“The biggest lie that Tirek tells us is that our sins define us, but like all lies, it eventually becomes the truth of the one who hears it long enough. It is our inner truths that guide our ambitions and determine our view of the world. It is what we allow to become our truths that will either build our prisons of torment and lead us to a path of self destruction, or show us the light of salvation and bring us closer to healing.”

-Mother Morning Glory- Church of Solaria

“Thank you, Doc. Thank you so much! I don't know how I can ever repay you for this,” says Granny Smith.

Doc, also known as Doctor Horse Heartbeat, is a unicorn stallion with an amber coat and a brown mane. He rushed over with Big Mac as soon as he got word of what happened and treated Applejack in the confines of her bedroom. Applejack still does not know why the doctor and her grandma refused to take her to a hospital, after all, a hospital is where the sick and hurt go to get better, and she is still sick and hurting badly. Especially below her stomach, like something has been crudely ripped out and her skin and insides being hastily stitched back together.

“There's no need to pay me back, Purity,” says Doctor Heartbeat. “I'm glad Macintosh got me here as quickly as he did. Any longer and Jackie could've died.”

Applejack swallows and shifts as quietly as she can under the thick covers while dragging a stetson Big Mac gave her closer to her barrel. She does not want them to know that she is awake. She wants to hear all of what they are saying so she can find out if they hate her or not, or what kind of trouble she will be in. She knows she will be in a lot of trouble since she broke Granny Smith's rule about using thaumaturgy, and made a huge mess in the basement, too. Her grandma hates messes and last time she made a small statue out of thaumaturgy, that old mare's head about exploded from rage. Only Celestia can save her from whatever punishment Granny Smith has in store for her.

“But... I'm afraid I could not heal her completely,” says Doctor Heartbeat dismally, bringing Applejack out of her paranoid thoughts.

The news of incomplete healing, however, sends a choking lump in Applejack's throat and her body tenses under her blanket as her hooves clutch the stetson tightly. She also bites her tongue to hide the whimper, but these things do not stop her body from trembling and her cheeks from becoming moist with tears.

“What do ya mean? What couldn't ya fix?” asks Granny Smith restlessly.

Applejack hears the cracks and tears in her grandma's voice, and she curls tighter as she squeezes her eyes shut, but a sharp pain inside her forces her to stop and wince. It seems like everything becomes still after that, and after a few seconds of silence, the floorboards creak with the leaving hoof steps.

“Let's talk downstairs,” says Doctor Heartbeat.

Applejack waits for the steps to fade down the stairs, and she waits a few more moments, silently arguing with herself on whether or not she should follow them and figure out how they plan on punishing her. She knows they are mad. They have to be for what she has done.

Applejack peeks between the opening of the stairway bars and observes Doctor Heartbeat and Granny Smith in the living room. She can barely see their faces in the dim, oil lamp light, but from what she can see, her grandma is having trouble keeping her proud posture. The old mare is sulking while the young doctor is having trouble looking at her. If she did not know any better, she would think that Granny Smith is genuinely worried, but she knows better. The look is obviously a ruse to fool the doctor into thinking that she is worried about the filly's wellness, but when the doctor leaves, Applejack knows there will be punishment for her meddling with dark magic.

“The ritual that your granddaughter performed removed her ability to bear any foals, and with a chunk of her insides missing it will cause complications,” explains Doctor Heartbeat. He sigh and runs his hoof through his mane and lowers his eyes to the floor. “I honestly don't know how much time she has left because of it, but the most I can offer is my silence on the matter and some medication to delude the symptoms. If anything, the medication will make her passing a lot less painful and hopefully add some time to her life.”

Granny Smith fidgets in her spot, nibbling on her lips and her eyes flicking between the floor and the doctor.

“Ya dealt with somethin' like this before?” asks Granny Smith after a moment of silence.

There is a hint of begging in her voice, but when the doctor shakes his head, her ears and shoulders droop even more and a small whine escapes her lips.

“No, I have not. This is... unique to say the least, and if the royal government finds out about this, they will take Jackie away for using dark magic,” says Doctor Heartbeat, his eyes lifting to meet at hers.

“What! But she is just a filly!” shouts Granny Smith, her body stiff and eyes wide with terror. “She made a mistake and-!”

“And whatever craft she used is obviously dark in nature and the government has a zero tolerance policy regarding dark magic. But I won't tell anypony about this, and I think I have a way to help ease her pain.”

Applejack shrinks back, shivering and biting her lip as the pain in her abdomen returns to slowly claw under her skin and rip her muscles. Her vision blurs with tears and she bites down on her hoof to stop the whimpers as the physical pain assaults her on top of the mental anguish of the government coming to take her away for what she did.

Granny Smith, meanwhile, collapses on her seat, eyes wet and desperate as she searches the doctor's face.

“What do you have?” she asks.

Doctor Heartbeat takes a breath. “Shortly before a colleague of mine left for Bernese with his son, he gave me a book of medical potions, and I believe one of the recipes could help Jackie greatly.”

“And you trust this pony and his potions?”

Doctor Heartbeat nods. “Me and Strongwind go back as dorm mates at medical school. He's a bit unorthodox, but his work has yet to fail anypony. If it came down to it, I would trust him and his work to save my life over the established hospitals and their pharmacies.”

Granny Smith hesitates for a few seconds. “Okay... Can ya cook us a bunch of whatever that special potion is?”

“Of course. I'll give you a batch of it tomorrow as well as a copy of the recipe so you can make it at home should there be any complications on my end. Keep Applejack in bed for the rest of the week and make sure she does not strain herself in any way. And whatever you do, make sure nopony find out what happened to Jackie, got it?”

Granny Smith nods, her eyes flicking up to the stairs for just a second. “For her sake, I'll make sure nopony'll ever know.”

Applejack lowers her eyes and backs up until the two adults are out of sight, then she turns around and sulks back to her room and gingerly crawls under her covers. She hears the two exchange some more words before the doctor leaves, then she hears the wood protesting with creaks and groans as her grandma treads up the stairs and down the hall. Moments later, the walking stops outside the filly's room and she shifts under her covers, holding the stetson to her chest again.

“Jackie?” calls Granny Smith softly.

Applejack makes a weak grunt, and she shifts a little to press her muzzle against her pillow when her grandma walks to the side of her bed. She gets the feeling that her grandma knows she eavesdropped on her; it is like dozens of spiders dancing on her back. She hates spiders, just like Granny Smith hates it when anyone listens in on a conversation that is supposed to be private.

“How much did you hear?” asks Granny Smith in a gentle voice that catches Applejack off guard.

Despite the pacifist tone, Applejack still wants to lie and say that she just woke up, but Granny Smith has an uncanny ability to root out lies from truth, so she knows it will be hopeless to play innocent.

“A lot...” whimpers Applejack. She lifts her head from her pillow and struggles to focus her bloodshot eyes on Granny Smith, and her lips tremble and her voice cracks with more tears dripping down her cheeks when she asks: “Am I gonna die?”

Granny Smith sighs heavily and smiles thinly as she crawls on the bed next to Applejack and carefully scoops her up in a hug.

“No, no you ain't gonna die,” coos Granny Smith over the filly's terrified whimpers while rubbing her back in soft strokes. “Yer gonna live a good long life and find a strong colt to take care of you. Heck, I know yer gonna live longer than me.”

“But the doctor said-”

“I know what he said, but you are an Apple, and it's gonna take more than a bad spell to knock any of us down.”

There is a moment of silence between them, but Applejack's mind is restless. Her grandma has yet to be wrong about anything, but even she is having a hard time believing that she will live long after that tree monster tore a piece of her insides out. On top of that, Applejack still remembers how furious Granny Smith was the first time she caught her using thaumaturgy, and what she did had been a whole lot worse than making a sand sculpture.

“Granny... Do you... Do you hate me?” sniffles Applejack, her hooves tightening around her grandma, worried that she will say 'yes' and cast her away.

Granny Smith sighs again and pulls Applejack away so they can look into each others eyes, and the old mare smiles again and brushes the filly's cheek. The soft, forgiving look in her eyes is something Applejack had not been expecting to see.

“Jackie... Applejack, I ain't gonna hate ya fer tryin' ta get yer parents back,” assures Granny Smith. “Ya made a mistake, honey, but that don't mean nothin' t' me. I'll always love ya and be there when ya need me, okay? Apples are always there for each other, through thick and thin, and that'll never change. I promise.”

Granny Smith then gives Applejack one more tight hug before lowering back on the bed and pulling the covers over her. Then she lightly kissing the filly on her forehead, which makes Applejack feel better. If only by a minimal margin.

“Now get some sleep, sugar cube. You've had a long day,” says Granny Smith softly.

Applejack nods, shifts under her covers, then closes her eyes, letting her grandma's words seep in as the older mare leaves the room. Once the door clicks shut and shrouds Applejack in darkness, her eyes open, acting like a pair of faint, green lights in the dark, and her face contorts to a grimace as disgust and sadness seep into her mind.

Her grandma has been right from the beginning. Thaumaturgy is dark magic. It is not a gift like her Uncle Mosley claimed it to be, it is a curse. Now, because of thaumaturgy's lies, she is like this, permanently broken and still without the parents that it promised it could bring back. All it did was take from her and leave her almost dead.

Applejack sniffles and squeezes her eyes shut, pushing out a trail of tears, and her painful whimpers and muttered apologies echo in the dark room.

“I'm sorry, Mama. I'm sorry, Papa... I'll never use magic ever again...”

Applejack's eyes snap open to the sound of scraping metal, and she uncurls her body and pokes her head out from under the thick blanket like a curious gopher. What she sees is a pale blue unicorn guard donning white prison armor, and behind him and his levitated chain is her door wide open, taunting her with freedom.

“Alright, can we try to have an easy day, today?” says the unicorn, his tag saying: Staff.

Quicker than a released wound spring, Applejack's legs catapult her off the bed, and she knocks the guard to the ground and gallops out of the cell with her hooves barely touching the rough floor.

“Here we go again!” yells Staff.

Applejack's hooves screech as she slides on the floor, and her eyes shrink to dots and her ears droop as a group of six more white-armored guards -one of which is the brownie pony- charge her from every direction. It is like they had been lying in wait, just outside her field of vision from the confines of her cell, waiting to ambush her when she makes yet another attempt to escape.

The brownie pony leaps for a tackle, but Applejack sidesteps her and dodges two more attempts at subduing her with fancy hoof-work before a gray stallion takes her down. The guard's armored body collides with Applejack's chest, violently forcing the air out of her lungs, and his hooves wrap around her neck, bringing her down to the ground in a blur of orange, gray and white. There is a flash of white and pain in the back of Applejack's skull from her head impacting the ground, but after her vision returns, she socks the one who tackled her in the jaw.

The gray guard yelps and falls off of Applejack, swearing up a storm, and she rolls on her hooves, only to have a yellow coated guard jump on top of her a second later. She immediately buckles under his weight and collapses on the cold concrete floor, swearing up a storm and trying to get him off by wiggling her body and bucking her hips. But despite her struggles, she still remains trapped underneath the larger pony.

“This is getting really old!” shouts the yellow guard.

“Get the cuffs on her, already!” barks Staff.

“Get! Off of me!” screams Applejack, giving one last buck that almost gets the guard off, but his strength overpowers hers and he slams her into the ground.

Her legs and ribs tingle with pain, and her heart speeds up and her movements become more frantic when she feels the metal cuffs clamp around her hooves. Like everyday for the past week, they seal them so they pinch against her skin with a set placed above the inhibitor cuffs on her forelegs, and all of them are connected by chains that barely allow her to walk. Then comes the collar slapped around her neck with a metal leash as if she is some kind of dog.

After they get the cuffs on, the yellow guard climbs off of Applejack and Staff tugs her up, which she obeys if only because she does not like the feeling of her neck getting pulled on. However, as soon as she gets up, the gray guard she punched stomps towards her with a bruised mouth and clocks her right in the jaw. The force sends her to the ground and her mouth explodes with the taste of copper as well as the unpleasant feeling of a metal boot to the face. That guard is immediately pushed back by the brownie pony and the yellow guard while everyone else shouts over each other to swiftly chastise him, though.

“Riposte, what the hell!” yells Staff.

“She busted my mouth, sir,” says the gray pony, Riposte, as he fiercely shrugs the yellow guard away.

“Ya wanna hit me again when I ain't restrained,” growls Applejack, licking her lips to sooth the pain.

“Shut up!” snaps Staff, then he jabs his hoof at Riposte: “You, stay here with Ruthenia and wait until I get back. As for you, Ruthenia, make sure he doesn't do anything stupid, got it?”

The brownie pony's hoof snaps up to salute. “Yes, sir.”

Staff then snorts and orders Applejack to follow him while tugging on her leash. She resists at first, mostly because she wants to slug Riposte again, but when a particularly bad, scratchy cough forces her hoof to her mouth, she loses her footing and almost gets a taste of cement. She catches herself, though, and begrudgingly follows Staff with her ears splayed back and a deep frown aimed at the floor while the taste of copper eats at her tongue. Out of the corner of her eye, and hearing past the metallic orchestra of chains clanking and metal clops of the guards, she sees Riposte glaring at her, hoof to jaw and muttering: “Bitch.”

Applejack turns fully to him and lurches forward, and Riposte swears and scrambles back into the wall, wide eyed and horn sparking defensively. Staff is quick to scold her over the snickers of the guards and give her a hard tug, though, and Applejack takes a few quick steps to keep herself from falling over, but despite the pain around her neck, she is still smiling. It was totally worth it.

“And to think, we gotta put her back in,” mutters the yellow guard, his tag saying: Picket.

Staff scoffs. “Yeah, don't remind me.”

In cell T-1918, Mosley has his hooves and ear pressed against the thick door, trying to figure out what had happened, even though he has a good idea of what is going on. It has been the same for the past week, where the guards would come by and take the new thaumaturgist for testing, and every time they opened her cell there would be chaos. She would fight and scream in her Ozark accent, and he guesses that the guards probably have to dog pile her on a daily basis just to get the cuffs on. However, when she is put back in her cell, he swears he hears a small army struggling to get her back in that usually ends with them being ordered to just throw her in using magic.

“Every day it's the same thing with her,” grumbles a stallion guard outside. “Why don't we just tranquilizer her and put a muzzle over her mouth as soon as we go in? It'll make everything easier.”

The guard Mosley is used to replies: “You know it is inequine to do that, Riposte.”

“Well, I'm sick and tired of doing these brawls with that stupid prisoner on daily basis. She's always trying to run and acts like she's being buried alive when we put her back in her cell. You'd think being the Element of Honesty she'd be more dignified about this instead of a big baby throwing a tantrum every chance she gets.”

Mosley's hooves scuff against the concrete floor when he jerks away from the door, eyes wide with shock, ears perked and his lungs devoid of air while his mind spins his thoughts in a blur. He knows Applejack is the Element of Honesty, and he remembers giving her one of his books about the art of thaumaturgy when she spent some time with him in Manehatten. He also remembers hearing about Applejack's parents disappearing when they went on a trip to visit the Pie's in the rock quarry country, and how Granny Smith forbid him from seeing Applejack ever again after an incident she refused to talk about.

His raging thought nearly make him not notice that the talking has stopped, but when he comes to that realization, he swiftly lies down own his bed, scoops up his book, opens it up to a random page and acts like he is reading. Not even a second later, the metal slot on his door opens and a pair of eyes spy on him.

Mosley keeps his phony focus on the page, pretending to enjoy the scene where the three friends are standing before the Saddle Arabian judge in cuffs, threatening to be thrown into a furnace unless they bow down to the king. Mosley struggles to keep his eyes on the page to keep his innocent ruse up, but it becomes more difficult to maintain as the seconds go by, and just when he is about to look up, the slot closes.

"So, anyway, did you hear about that crazy shootout with the griffins and EIB?" says Riposte.

Mosley's eyes flick to do the door and sees nothing but metal while the guards outside carry on their conversation. No eyes are staring at him. No trays of food are waiting to be eaten. It is just him and the metal holding him in his stone prison. Seconds later, the earth pony breathes through his nose and looks at the marking under his hoof, then glares at the door before him, flexing his muscles and giving the markings a light blue glow, knowing what he must do, now.

In the brightly lit laboratory, Applejack's brows and lips twitch from the pinch of a needle and the odd sensation of her blood being sucked out. It seems a lot longer than five seconds when the blood is finished being drawn, and afterwords Nebulous slaps a smiley face band-aid above the injection point, which has a red dot oozing out.

“There we go. Nice and quick,” chirps Nebulous.

Applejack stares at the smiley face band-aid with a small frown, hating how much it looks like a tool for mocking her and her situation. She looks up at the professor, watching him crossly as he hums lightly to himself and seals off the vial of blood before placing it in a secured container and handing it to an assistant. Said assistant leaves the room in a hurry through a pair of glass doors, where Meriaclock sits nearby on a stool, looking bored in his white suit and fedora, as usual.

“How many times do ya have t' take my blood?” asks Applejack crossly when Nebulous returns to her with a popsicle stick.

Nebulous shrugs. “As many times as I have to. Fresh blood is always better than that old stuff that sits in the fridge for a few days. Now, say 'Aaah'.”

“This is- bleh!”

She is cut off from awful, wooden taste of the flat stick being placed on her tongue, and the unicorn once again hums to himself as he inspects her tongue and the insides of her mouth.

“Have my medications been making you feel any better?” asks Nebulous while pulling the stick out to scribble some notes, muttering something about discoloration on the tongue.

“No, I still feel the same everyday. And what's that you said about my tongue being weird?” says Applejack, now running her tongue along her teeth and lips to get rid of the horrible taste.

“Oh, just a side effect of the medication I gave you for yesterday. It gave your tongue a green tint, kinda like a green apple.”

Applejack furrows her brows. “Is that supposed to be funny?”

Nebulous sighs and pats Applejack's shoulder sympathetically. “You really need to lighten up, my dear. It really is bad for your health to be this wound up.”

“Forgive me if I ain't a fan of bein' locked up in prison for life without knowin' where my brother and sister are.”

“...I can see why that would stress you out, but, tell me, have you been feeling anything strange with the other medications I've been giving you? Specifically with the hooves or brain.”

Applejack groans. "I already said I feel the same everyday, which means I still feel like crap 'cuz your fancy medications don't work, and ya won't let me use that potion I told ya about. You know, the one that's been keepin' me just fine ever since I was a filly!? If y'all just let me-”

Nebulous snaps his hoof up. “Ah-ah-ah, no can do with the homemade potions. They are not authorized or endorsed by the royal government or the Royal Pharmaceutical Committee.”

“But-”

“Applejack, I honestly would like to use them, but I cannot,” interrupts Nebulous, a bit of a sharp edge in his tone. He then sighs and levitates a notepad and a pen from a table and sits in front of Applejack. “Not yet anyway because the rules in place suck. Now, hold out your front right hoof, please.”

Applejack frowns and extends the requested hoof. Shortly after, a little poke at the fleshy bowl sends a ticklish tingle raging through her hoof and makes her flinch and giggle. She immediately regrets that when Nebulous looks at her with a curious smile while Meriaclock stares at her with a raised brow. With those eyes looking at her, her ears droop and she looks down to hide the embarrassed flush on her cheeks and ear tips.

“Sorry,” mutters Applejack.

“It's quite alright,” says Nebulous as he squints his eyes for a better look at her markings.

The unicorn's horn glows and Applejack feels the invisible tendrils return to grip her hoof and hold it up while he doodles on his pad. Or, at least it looks like doodling since it is way too chaotic with the pen's mix of circular and jagged motions to be writing. Applejack also gets a shiver up her spine when the invisible appendages coil around her hoof with more slithering up around her body, clutching her waist and running along her stomach and ribs.

“Stop that!” snaps Applejack, prompting Nebulous and the snaky tentacles to stop what they are doing.

“Stop what?” asks Nebulous innocently.

Applejack scowls. “You know what yer doin'. Don't play dumb with me!”

The tentacles retreat and Nebulous straightens his posture, but he is still smiling. “Does my writing disturb you?”

Applejack growls and the professor's antics, and he turns his notepad around and shows her a drawing of her markings with sloppy notes next to them. How anyone, including Nebulous, can read his awful chirography is beyond her, but she is glad that he stopped with his nonsense, which she knows he is doing on his own free will.

“It is nothing to worry about,” assures Nebulous. “I'm only taking notes for future references and study material.”

“Ya've been doin' the same note taking all week. If yer so interested in this... condition I got, why don'tcha move on t' somethin' else instead of staring at the same picture under my hoof?” asks Applejack, her tone announcing her disgust of the situation.

She also wants to ask him why he feels the need to feel her up with those creepy, invisible tendrils of his, but she has a strong hunch that he will deny doing such things to her and will end up making things more difficult than they already are. Nebulous' response to her question is fully expected, though. He hums lightly, casually looks back at his notes, then flashes her a big grin, all while his pegasus companion remains silent and by the door, forever watchful.

“Well, for starters, I don't think you have a condition, I think you have a gift,” says Nebulous. “A very special, misunderstood gift made better by your trip into the Void. Sure it might've taken a piece of you in the process, but such is thaumaturgy's way to keep things in balance.”

Nebulous falls silent for a moment as he studies the vital signs printed on the sheet, and his brows furrow with a questionable hum for just a moment before he looks back at the Element.

“As for this repetition? Well, it's a little habit of mine. It helps to keep things in order and find discrepancies,” continues Nebulous as he adjusts his glasses slightly and puts his notes on a nearby table. “Besides, thaumaturgists are rare, and me being the last true scientist, I don't want want anything to go wrong. This has to be perfect, and you are helping me towards the greatest scientific advancement of our time! I'm sure Celestia will release you from this prison just on that merit alone when we're done with my research.”

Applejack highly doubts that that would happen, considering how Celestia basically back-stabbed her by taking away her farm because of some dumb law, then marked her as an abomination and had her imprisoned. There was a time when she would call anyone who would predict Celestia's recent behavior crazy, but now thinking about the Sun Goddess releasing her because of her being helpful to a loony scientist? That is the new crazy.

And speaking of crazy, Applejack thinks about Nebulous calling himself the last true scientist. That is a bold statement in itself, and she's certain Twilight and this Nebulous character would have a very heated debate about who the better scientist is if it came down to it.

“Professor,” begins Applejack carefully, her curiosity getting the best of her, now.

“Yes?” says Nebulous without looking at Applejack.

Before she can speak, the assistant returns with a trot and gives Nebulous a small container of translucent, red gel pills. It honestly looks gross and hard to swallow for Applejack, but she ignores that for now and takes a breath before continuing.

“What didja mean by 'last true scientist'?” she asks.

Nebulous politely dismisses the assistant and looks at Applejack with a patient smile. “Well, my dear, that means that unlike my parents, sister and those other spurious ponies in lab coats seeking fifteen minutes of fame, I am driven by science's true purpose. That means my goal is to acquire knowledge and use it to make the world better no matter what. And no matter what includes investigating the forbidden realms of mythology and thaumaturgy.”

“So, you'll investigate all that forbidden stuff, but ya won't let me use a potion that's been helping me since I was a filly?”

“Precisely.”

Applejack opens her mouth to scold the professor for his stupidity, but clamps it shut when he raises his hoof again.

“Rest assured, I'm looking into this and am trying to get it to go through, but it is a nightmare,” says Nebulous, adding with a slight chuckle: “You wouldn't believe how much hair I lost trying to convince the government and my predecessors to allow me to study thaumaturgy. But now that I am the boss of the Starswirl Society, I can study you freely! Plus, I get some leverage in convincing those old coots running the medicine show to allow you to use your special potion.”

Applejack stares at the professor, unsure what to say and momentarily breaks eye contact when she hears some metal clanging. She sees Meriaclock standing by one of the tables, curiously tapping a metal rod against its surface. He only stops when Nebulous clears his throat, and that is after he gives the unicorn an annoyed glare.

“Meriaclock, please put that back where you found it. I don't want to be accused of breaking anything today,” says Nebulous sternly.

Meriaclock snorts in response, then tosses the rod inside a garbage can before sitting against the wall. After that is said and done, Nebulous sighs and looks at Applejack, and she, in turn, looks back at him.

“Anyway!” blurts Nebulous with a flare of positive energy as he pops the pill container open and plops one of the gel pills in Applejack's hoof, who stares at its large size uneasily. “Why don't we give this beauty a try?”

Applejack looks at him, her throat contracting in protest of having to swallow the massive pill while holding her uneasy expression. She retracts slightly in her seat when Nebulous uses his magic to grab a bottle of water from a fridge and pop it open for her underneath her muzzle.

“It's cherry flavor,” sings Nebulous.

Applejack sighs and sulks in her seat, still staring at the pill with drooped ears, knowing she is in for another long session with this weirdo.

“Hey, there, good lookin',” slurs a stallion.

Warden Frost Flower glances up from her fancy calligraphy menu, wearing a simple white dress with gold trim and a silver necklace with a polished, gold and glass sun as its pendant; behind her on the back of her chair is the heavy, blue winter jacket she wore.

With the sight before her, her eyebrow cannot help but rise up, leaving the other stationary, as Filthy Rich grins at her. Stupidly. And clearly plastered if is any indication by the stench in his breath and the way his suit and tie is mis-buttoned and loose. Just what she needed after a long day at the prison and a strange ride over to this restaurant. A rich, drunk stallion trying to pick her up.

“I'm taken,” says Frost flatly, hoping her bluntness will get rid of him.

Filthy Rich's ears droop and he sulks away, muttering: “Dang it.”

Frost watches with relief as the drunk earth pony staggers away to a much younger pegasus with a gray-blue coat and a curled mane of a darker shade sitting at a bar. The stallion leans next to his target and gives her the same smile he gave the Warden, but the pegasus ignores him for the most part as she puts her attention on her fruity drink.

“Hey, there. I'm rich,” says Filthy Rich.

That gets her attention.

“Really?” she says while she turns to look at him with a wolfish smile and a slow lick of her lips.

Frost rolls her eyes and looks back at her menu, not really understanding why a salad costs ten bits or a hay-burger fifteen, or why everything has to be written in Slavic calligraphy. She also does not understand why Nebulous rushed off to the bathroom after arriving at this restaurant or why she even thought of this stupid plan. In fact, now that she thinks about it, this is probably the dumbest thing she has done in the past year. Not that anyone else but her and her ex knows about the New Year Eve's fiasco with the melted cheese and jelly donuts...

Frost huffs and covers her eyes with her hooves, silently cursing herself for this. Truth be told, she really has no idea how to get information out of Nebulous without seeming like she is desperate for answers.

“And I'm back!” chirps Nebulous proudly.

Frost lowers her hooves and stares at the unicorn in front of her. He is still wearing the same dark purple suit and tie with the powder purple dress shirt from when he picked her up with his motor wagon, driven by none other than Meriaclock. His associate did not seem to be too happy about being a chauffeur, but Nebulous took it with a smile, like he seemingly does with everything else. That being said, nothing has changed between her being picked up and her waiting alone in a restaurant. A restaurant that she has not been to in a long time for reasons returning to her.

“Usually its the mare that stays in the restroom for an hour,” says Frost, her eyes going back to the menu. Specifically the salad section.

“I'm sorry, but I felt under-presented in your company, so I decided to do some touch ups to keep my appearance in check,” says Nebulous with a massive grin.

Frost has to suppress a gag and strains her muscles at a painful degree to give the stallion a pleasant smile. “Well, I can't fault a pony for wanting to look good on their meeting.”

“Date.”

“...Right... Date.”

Nebulous flips open his menu and traces the selection with his hoof. “I'm glad you agreed to this, because I know an overworked mare when I see one, and it is a shame to see somepony with some usable years left wasting away at their desk.”

The Warden's eye twitches. 'Did he just call me old?'

“You know, I was actually surprised when you sent your officer to give me the note,” continues Nebulous, appearing to be unaware of the physical reaction of his last statement. “My night was almost ruined because of my blunder, but you helped fix that, so, thank you.”

“Really?” says Frost slowly.

Nebulous looks up, still smiling, and uses his magic to close the menu while folding his hooves over it. “Oh, yes. If you had not sent that cute officer with the instructions on where I should pick you up and take you to eat, I would have been devastated and spent another long night alone.”

“What about your pegasus friend?” asks Frost, her hoof waving towards the general direction she saw the wagon go after they entered the establishment. “I'm sure you two could have figured out something to do. Like go to a bar or play a board game.”

Nebulous scoffs and waves his hoof dismissively. “Meriaclock is not exactly the best to have around for casual meetings. Besides, he's more of a bodyguard with a strong addiction to coffee and newspapers than an actual friend.”

Across the street, in the warmth and humble setting of a small cafe is Meriaclock. He is wearing a thick, white winter jacket over his usual suit, but has his fedora resting on the table, next to an empty cup of coffee. In his grip is a newspaper with the front page having a picture of the Flim Flam Brothers smiling and posing in front of a replica of a mechanical front hoof. The title above the picture is: FLIM FLAM BROS. DEVELOPING SCI-FI PROSTHETIC LIMB!

Even though the pegasus has the latest newspaper, his attention is split. Part of his time goes to the newspaper article describing the mechanical limb and the other goes to a mini-train with its back end completely covered by a what looks like a big, metal box. This vehicle is parked outside the restaurant where Nebulous and Warden Frost are eating, and he is certain that the bulky vehicle has followed them there. He has found it even more suspicious that he has only seen one pony leave empty and re-enter the vehicle with a bag of food and a couple of cups of what he assumes to be hot drinks in a manner that shows caution while trying to act casual. What makes it more suspicious for the pegasus is that he recognizes the pony as the guard that escorted him and Nebulous out of the Snowflake Gulag.

“More coffee, sir?” asks a female voice with a heavy Slavic accent.

Meriaclock glances away from the window and frowns when he sees a female griffin wearing an white apron and holding a coffee pot. He does not see the pleasant smile she is offering, though. What he sees is a fluke in evolution trying to be civil. That being said, his grimace grows and he slides the cup closer to her. She might as well be some use to him if she is offering a form of service.

“Don't overfill it,” he orders.

“I never do,” chirps the waitress as she carefully refills his cup.

Meriaclock grunts and adjusts his newspaper while staring at the mini-train out of the corner of his eye, just waiting for a reason to blow it and Warden Frost to bits.

Meanwhile, inside the covered mini-train, Limestone and Billy sit cramped next to each other, both wearing headsets hooked up to recording equipment and looking about as pleased as a pair of grumpy cats being forced into a shoe. Normally, the back of a covered mini-train would be spacious for cargo, or have seats to house extra ponies. In this case, it is filled with recording equipment that have constantly spinning tapes, a pair of small, gem powered heaters, and a wiry satellite dish aimed at the restaurant. There is also a slit of tinted glass that allows them to see what is going on, but no one can see inside. As far as passerbys are concerned, the tinted glass is just a racing stripe on a bulky vehicle.

Limestone takes a sip of her hot drink, suppressing a gag while Billy takes a casual sip and uses his magic to hold a bagel to his muzzle.

“I told you to get me hot chocolate,” complains Limestone, shuddering from the desecrating taste of minty coffee on her tongue.

“Star Bucks hot chocolate is gross. I did you a favor,” remarks Billy.

Limestone huffs and digs into the food bag and pulls out a large bagel speckled with large, black seeds. She blanches and searches through the bag for hopes of finding something good, but all she finds is more of the seeded bagels and humus flavored cream cheese spread.

“Billy!” whines Limestone.

“What?” grunts the unicorn.

Limestone squishes the bag of disgusting food shut and throws it at Billy, but it only bounces off his shoulder harmlessly and lands at his hooves, much to her disappointment.

“Why do your taste buds have to suck so much?” she says with a huff as she folds her hooves across her chest and glares straight ahead.

Billy shrugs. “Genetics, I guess.” He adjusts his headset. “Now, are you going to do your job or what?”

Limestone shifts in her seat and turns a knob to get a better hearing on the conversation between Nebulous and Frost. “This is not in my job description. I'm supposed to be a regular guard, not an undercover.”

Billy snorts. “Whiner.”

Limestone shoots a glare at him, then rolls her eyes and presses the headset harder against her ear when the stallion smirks.

“So, why do you have such an interest in thaumaturgists?” asks Frost, her voice somewhat fuzzed from static and the noises of the passing crowd outside.

“Why do you care?” asks Nebulous as he uses his magic to unravel his wrapped utensils and place his knife in the middle of the fork and spoon.

Before Frost can answer, a unicorn waiter drops by and places a basket of steaming hot rolls and warm butter in between them, then asks them if they are ready to order.

Frost, wanting to get rid of the waiter as quickly as she can, blurts: “Spinach salad, fizzy water to drink, go light on the ranch.”

Nebulous blinks, then chuckles and rubs his hoof together as the waiter scribbles her order on his pad. “Somepony knows what she wants. As for me, my dear boy, I would like a flower burger, wheat bun with extra mayo and horseshoe fries with lots of barbeque sauce. Oh, and Sunny Drops to drink with no ice.”

“Okie dokie,” says the waiter. He does a few hard strokes on his pad with his pen, then grins at the two and nods politely as he backs up. “I'll be back with your meals in a jiffy.”

Frost smiles thinly and thanks him while Nebulous levitates the menus back to their server. After the waiter leaves, she keeps her smile and puts he hooves under her chin and bats her lashes at Nebulous. She feels dumb doing it, but she figures if Nebulous is one of those hopeless romantics as seen by his desperation to get her on a date with him, she might as well use it to her advantage.

“Back on subject. Can you please tell me about thaumaturgy?” she says with a small purr, wanting oh so much to slam her face against the table for her desperation, even though it does give her the reaction she wanted. That reaction being Nebulous looking at her with a red tint in his cheeks. However-

Inside the mini-train, Limestone grimaces in disbelief while Billy arches his brow slightly.

“I do have a thaumaturgist is custody, and I would love to be informed about her amazing abilities,” continues Frost, putting quite a bit of emphasis on “love”.

Limestone facehoofs and finds her cheeks heating up with embarrassment for some reason, all while Billy snorts and mutters something about the conversation being “rich”.

Nebulous chuckles and shifts in his spot nervously while Frost continues smiling at him with her eyes drifting halfway and her blinks slow and mesmerizing. She really feels strange doing this since she has not done it in a very long time, but, again, her personal comfort is not as important to her as figuring out what Nebulous is trying to pull with her prison.

“Well.” Nebulous coughs awkwardly. “Well, um, Warden, I must say that this is unexpected. I think you are finally loosening up around me, which is nice because I thought we were going to have an awkward first date.”

“Oh, we don't want that,” says Frost, thanking the waiter when he slides their drinks in front of them.

Nebulous immediately grabs his cup and takes a big gulp while Frost gingerly sips her drink, shuddering and trying not to gag when she tastes flat soda instead of a fizzy drink. Just another reason to hate this place and condemn herself for being so stupid in picking it.

“Anyway,” says Frost, smacking her lips and rolling her tongue along her teeth. “I think it will be beneficial if I know what kind of... ability my special prisoner has, and you being the smart pony you are, I know you can tell me everything I need to know about thaumaturgy.”

Nebulous' chest swells with pride. “Well, my dear, I have been studying that form of magic since I was a foal messing around in my parents basement, and now that I got my own labs and a blank check to study it, I've made all sorts of progress. So, what do you want to know?”

Frost hums a little, tilting her head this way and that as her eyes roll to the ceiling. Out of her peripheral vision she can see Nebulous' grin widen and his body lean forward in anticipation. Finally, after some seconds of pretending not to know what to ask, she looks at the professor and puts on her feminine charm again.

“What's so special about thaumaturgy?” asks Frost. “All I know is that it is banned and Celestia has me house any and all captured thaumaturgists, which so far has been only two. I know I could just ask her personally, but...” -Frost deflates with a loud, disappointed sigh- “getting an audience with her is a nightmare. Especially now.”

“Well, you won't have to worry about going through a nightmare to see me. I'm always open,” says Nebulous. “Now, about staving that justified curiosity. In a nutshell, thaumaturgy is a special kind of magic. While regular magic uses mana reserves inside the body, thaumaturgy uses mana reserves and energy released from tectonic movements in the earth. Some of the more classical thinking thaumaturgists call this tectonic energy Sirius's Pulse.”

Frost's ears perk and she leans forward slightly, genuinely interested this time. “Why is it called Sirius's Pulse?”

“According thaumaturgist lore, an alicorn named Sirius gave his Most Faithful Student, Starburst Quartz, and those who carry his bloodline, the ability to manipulate matter in a set space,” explains Nebulous casually, using his magic to adjust his glasses. “However, after a couple of unpleasant incidents revolving around the destruction of Roam and the near conquering of the Crystal Empire, Celestia deemed it to be dark magic and had made a royal decree to persecute and prosecute any and all who possess such an ability.”

“What happened to Sirius?” asks Frost carefully.

Nebulous shrugs. “Don't know. One legend says Celestia burnt him to a crisp, others says he lost his godhood and died an old pony, then there is my personal favorite. Him getting sucked away into a void never to be seen again!”

That last part ends with Nebulous cackling like a goof and rubbing his hooves together as he flashes a devious grin. However, that light expression does not last, for seconds later, his countenance falls and he deflates in his seat while glancing around the dining area.

“Technically I shouldn't be telling you about this,” says the unicorn, his tone replaced with something more somber. “This kind of information about Sirius was locked away in the forbidden archives by Celestia.... Locked away, just like all those who hold such an amazing gift...”

Nebulous sighs and slouches further in his seat, his expression solemn and ears folded down.

“I am sure Celestia means well, though,” continues Nebulous dismally. “After all, she is all loving and forever merciful, righteous, and an acting guardian as well as the light of our lives.”

“You better not be mocking my goddess,” sneers Frost, her hoof going up instinctively to rub her pendant protectively.

“Oh, I meant no disrespect,” says Nebulous with a quick wave of his hoof, “but one of the things I know to be most true is that our best intentions are often the things that destroy what we hold most dear.”

While Nebulous has his eyes on Frost, she can see them becoming more distant. She has seen it countless times in interrogations when a guilty pony relives their crime and tries to convince themselves that they are in the right or wish that they could rewrite that day for a better outcome. With his distant look, she places both hooves under her chin and stares intently at the unicorn, now trying to decipher what kind of guilt he is harboring.

“Take religious fanatics for example,” says Nebulous, his tone continuing to dull. “They deny science, but scientists are just as guilty of their bigotry and intolerance for they, too, deny anything that has to do with religion, even though they are two sides of the same coin. All that we can learn from each other, stunted by this petty rivalry. It is saddening and disgusting.”

As much as Frost wants to interject, she really does not know what to say about Nebulous' claim. Besides, the more she stares at his eyes, the more she comes to realize that there is something off about them. She cannot put her hoof on it, but they seem flat to her, like his glasses have been enchanted by an illusion spell to make his eyes different. She actually finds that part disturbing, for she has never seen anything like that before and is now wondering why anyone would do that. Or, better yet, what he is trying to hide.

“Think about it. Both hold the well being of all close to their hearts, but their failure to cooperate and learn from one another has created nothing but animosity,” continues Nebulous with a hint of disgust bleeding into his saddened voice and his posture stiffening. “Then we look at Celestia. Her best intention is to save Equestria from its inevitable downfall, but it seems her actions are only quickening its end rather than repairing what has been damaged.”

Nebulous drifts into silence, and Frost keeps staring at him, not wanting to interrupt now out of curiosity to see what else he can tell her through his demeanor and tone.

“But if I can use Applejack to show the world that science and faith can coexist as one, like thaumaturgy shows, then...” Nebulous pauses to take a breath and adjusts his glasses again. “Then maybe I can open Celestia's eyes to the truth and advance the world to a new age of discovery. What you have in your custody, Warden Frost, is a possible remedy o at least one of the many problems we are facing in these troubling times. Who knows, maybe my research will help save Harmony in the end.”

Nebulous then forces a smile and holds up his glass to Frost.

“A toast, Miss Frost Flower, to a Harmony that is restored and perfected by the unity of faith and science.”

Frost blinks in question, but when the unicorn nods to her cup, she quickly grabs it and raises it to his as far as her hoof will allow. Nebulous guides his cup to hers, and after they gently clink together, the two take their sips and the unicorn ends with a loud gasp while the mare keeps her manners and quietly lowers her cup. This happens just in time for the waiter to bring out their food.

“Now then!” blurts Nebulous with a surprisingly bright tone and big grin as his plate of food is placed in front of him. “Shall we enjoy the rest of this night on a high note?”