"But why twelve?" Hat Trick said as she levitated another suitcase off the carts. "Why not seven? Or a hundred? Why so specific?" The suitcase-- a steamer trunk--- hit the floor of the suite with a thump. "There has to be some significance."

I had learned over the past year that my unicorn bodyguard had a driving fascination for puzzles, riddles, and logic games. I suppose one had to have some sort of mental activity to pass the long hours standing guard. It certainly made for interesting conversations ever since she joined my personal detachment of plainclothes pony protectors.

Speaking of which, they were all present at the time. Since the attack Equestria had been on high alert, and my humble guards were now stationed with me more or less 'round the clock, even moving their sleeping quarters into a spare couple of rooms in my suite. Personally I was all for it; I found it rather galling that my bodyguards, when they were off shift, went and slept in barracks and ate in the canteen while I slept on plush pillows and sheets and ate from silver plates.

I should take a moment and note that the usual portrayal of three tribes, even though it was used commonly by the ponies themselves, wasn't entirely correct. There were in fact at least five or six pony tribes. There were also the Sea ponies... though for obvious reasons they almost never visited Canterlot. There were the Crystal Ponies, of course. And, as I had suspected ever since my citizenship application, there were Flutterponies. They were even more petite than the unicorns, and tended to keep to themselves in the deep forests. And then there were the negasi, the bat-winged ponies you have all surely seen pulling Luna's carriage on Nightmare Night.

As it stood, I now had representatives of five of the six tribes in my entourage: Pegasus, Unicorn, Earthpony, Flutterpony and Negasus. If I ever had the temerity to go swimming in anything larger than a kiddy pool, I probably would have found myself introduced to my very own seapony bodyguard.

The Negasus was a bat-winged, fanged, yellow-eyed pony with indigo coat and jet black mane by the name of Moth. His Cutie Mark, appropriately, was a single dark-blue moth. As I understood it, his "special talent" was an almost preternatural gift for stealth. Even when he wasn't lurking in the shadows he moved with amazing quiet, and when he spoke it was barely two or three words, scarcely above a whisper. He could almost disappear while standing quietly in front of you. It was a bit unnerving at times. His other abilities, including bat-like sonar and the ability to see in the dark--- were scarcely less so.

The Flutterpony was a tiny filly named Jonquil. Imagine a full grown filly with butterfly wings and antennae, no bigger than a kitten, with a cutie mark of the flower for which she was named. She was apparently part of some sort of cultural exchange program. She could often be found hiding, nearly invisible, in Bright Dawn's mane. I had misapprehensions as to what such a tiny thing could contribute to a security detail, but I was repeatedly assured that she had skills (not to be disclosed) of value to the group.

My inner Brony found her culture to be endlessly fascinating.(1)They flew (obviously), though not as high or fast as the pegasi. They had magic as well, though only a fraction as powerful as the unicorns. They had cutie marks as well, though the rules thereof were quite different; like the larger ponies, their cutie marks appeared with the discovery of their special talent... but the cutie mark was never indicative of what it was. It was always of the plant, flower, or fruit for which they were named.(2)  Among the Flutterponies, a pony's special talent was a very secret and private thing, rarely shared with another outside of one's family.  It had made for some scandalous moments when she'd first joined us.

Of more than passing interest was the fact that the Flutterponies knew and used the language of flowers for nearly everything-- decor, signposts, naming conventions, etc.... I only knew a smattering of this Victorian era form of secret communication, but it was a second tongue to Jonquil, if not a first. She was taking some efforts to try and teach me, at my request; after all, it seemed like it might have some utility.

Am I meandering? I'm quite certain I'm meandering. Where was I?....

Oh yes. As I was trying to say, I and my entourage were in the process of helping the Mane 6 and their entourages move into their new quarters. Yes, they had their own... and not just their own guards.(3) Firstly of course they had their own families. Twilight's parents, the Apples (Applebloom, Big Macintosh and Granny Smith, that is. They'd done a nose count of the Apple clan at large and decided, quite firmly, to limit security to the immediate family), Rarity's parents and sister SweetieBelle.... Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy didn't have any immediate family, but it was summer and Rainbow Dash had promised to spend the summer giving Scootaloo flying lessons(4), and had insisted on bringing the little orange filly to the castle (much to the little buzz-bomb's glee). And of course Fluttershy had her animals to consider... most, thankfully, were fine on their own living in the woods, and those few that weren't, were easily merged into the royal gardens with the other animals already there.(5)

The Apples weren't quite so sanguine about leaving Sweet Apple Acres untended for such an indefinite period. The Princesses, arguing the interest of national security, came up with a solution that shocked nearly everyone involved to the core:(6)

They bought Sweet Apple Acres. The barn, the orchards, the fields, the zap apple trees, the whole shooting match.

They didn't just buy it, they used their own royal funds(7) to make an offer that, at my best estimate, was four times its net value. Even then, the Apple family dragged its hooves at the offer.... hard times or not, this was their family home, after all, with over a century of love, blood, sweat, and tears in the ground. It was then that Celestia clarified: Sweet Apple Acres would be royal property,  but the Apples would still live there in their ancestral home, on retainer as caretakers and royal administrators for as long as they wished.(8) From now on the crown would handle the costs of running the farm, maintenance and repairs, staffing--- no more breaking their backs; the crown would hire more than enough farmhands to keep the place in tip-top shape, enough that none of the Apples would have to lift a hoof of their own unless they wished--- And the bulk of the Apple's crop would go straight to the royal tables.

That was all for after the crisis was past, of course; For now, though, Celestia and Luna would send staff to take care of the farm in the Apple's absence.

Even then Applejack was conflicted.... till someone finally pointed out to her that, with the buyout price the Princesses were offering, if they decided they didn't like being gentlepony farmers they could probably buy Sweet Apple Acres back--- or go out and buy four more farms just like it and start from scratch.(9)

It took hours for Applejack to wipe the shell-shocked grin off her face.

It may have sounded like flamboyant charity. I knew better. Celestia had discussed with me the possibility of the Apples (sensibly) balking at leaving Sweet Apple Acres untended. She'd also confessed that for years, decades even, she had wanted to secure the world's only known source of domestic zap apples for the throne.(10) Even for earth ponies, domesticating a powerfully magical fruit like the zap apples was an astonishing achievement; she intended to put the Apples to work trying to domesticate other exotic magical fruits and plants as well, if they were game.... she had one golden apple tree, for example; she was ambitious however for an entire golden orchard....

At the moment, we were helping Rarity move. We were helping her move her whole benighted boutique. When she had learned she was expected to move into the palace for an unforeseeable period, she had all but stripped Carousel Boutique to the wall joists, boxed it all up, and had it delivered. Thank God that Canterlot Castle had rooms and rooms to spare. She had secured a suite that was literally large enough for them to have rebuilt the entire building inside and was rapidly setting up shop, fussing and rearranging even as the rest of us were still hauling in rolls of cloth, dress forms, racks of already-made dresses, her furniture...

Very well. everyone else was hauling in all that. I was more or less standing around supervising.

For lack of anything to put my hand to, I decided to put my mind to the question. "Hard to say," I ruminated. "There's a lot of cultural significance to the number 12, at least on Earth. Twelve months in a year, the twelve Apostles, twelve tribes of Israel, high noon and midnight are twelve o'clock, twelve in a dozen, twelve twelves is a gross, twelve Olympians in the Greek Pantheon, umm, twelve feats of Hercules...." I shrugged. "But none of that should have any meaning to a Draconequus, I shouldn't think."

"It sounds like a math thing to me," a familiar raspy-yet-squeaky voice said at my elbow. I started and looked down; to my surprise Snips was standing there. He was fitted out in a shirt, tie and vest, and looked as if someone had ruthlessly gelled and combed his mane sleek to his skull. "Whoa, hey there, Slick," I said. "What are you doing here?"

The colt shrugged and rolled his eyes. "Summer job," he said, pointing a hoof at Rarity. "I'm gonna be helping Miss Rarity."

"You don't say? Seriously, Rarity?"

The fashionista looked over at me. "Oh absolutely, darling," she said. "He may not be a tailor, but that scissors spell of his--- he can cut an entire dress pattern out with a single wave of his horn! Now I could hardly turn down his request for a job when that talent of his would save me absolutely hours of work, now could I?" She flashed a cheerful smile at me before diving back into her boxes. "Besides, it makes me feel better knowing that SweetieBelle will have a little friend around to keep her company when our parents and I are running about..."

The filly in question was sitting nearby, perched on top of a steamer trunk. She waited until Rarity and Snips were looking the other way and gave me a silent grimace of horror.  It took all my willpower not to choke to death with laughter. "Indeed," I managed, with some effort. "You were saying, Snips?"

Snips looked up at me. "Oh. Yeah. I was saying it sounded like a math thing," he said. "Snails would know..."

"Know what?" said a voice from the doorway. I looked over. Two of Rarity's fashion-model bodyguards were at the entryway, barring someone from entrance. One looked over her shoulder and asked, "Is it alright for him to enter, Miss Rarity?"

Rarity looked up and saw who it was. "Oh yes, he's harmless," she said with a dismissive wave of a hoof. "He's a friend of Snips. Let him on in." The two elegant mares stepped aside, letting a familiar gawky unicorn colt with a green mane step inside.  "Snails?" I said. "What is this, old home week? What brings you to the castle, fella?"

"Hey, Snails." Snips said. The two brohoofed. "So wassup?"

"Ahhh, nuttin' much, eh?" Snails grinned awkwardly. "Math camp at the School for Gifted Unicorns," he said. "We have the afternoon off today so I came by to see everyone."

Snips' expression spoke volumes. "Math camp?" he said. "Aww, dude. Bummer! A summer vacation doing homework? What're your parents gonna do for your birthday-- get you a broccoli cake?"

"Eyy," Snails protested. "It's not so bad... in fact lots of it is kind of cool."

"Yyyeah, right. Try not to catch a case of boring before you go back home." Snips rolled his eyes.

"What?" Snails mulled that over a minute. "Heyyy..." He snorted. Then grinned and jabbed Snips with a hoof. "Well at least I'm not gonna spend all summer making dresses..."

At that moment three or four of Rarity's female guards came walking in. Or perhaps I should say slinking; they were dressed to kill in some of Rarity's finest "semi-casual" designs and were moving like panthers on the prowl. They glided by the two colts, who had stopped needling each other to stare slack jawed as the mares passed. The last one in line, a soft peach earth pony mare with a honey colored mane, wearing a gauzy thing of translucent silks and  knee-high laced sandals on all four hooves stumbled a bit as she walked past Snips. She stopped and fussed with her hoofwear. "Oh shoot, I can never get these darn little buckles and straps to catch right. Snips?" She looked over her shoulder and stuck out a graceful hind leg. "Would you be a dear and help me fix the straps right on these? I can't quite reach the ones in the back..."

Snips' and Snails' eyes went round for a moment.  The fashion ninja saw Snips' expression and laughed. "Oh don't be silly, sweetie, we're going to be working around each other all summer. There's no point in being bashful..."

Snips said nothing. He just whipped his head around to look at Snails and smirked. They regarded each other for a moment. "You win this round," Snails said dolefully.

Several of us had a good chuckle. While Snips went to help the lady with her legwear (using his magic rather than his hooves, thankfully), Bright Dawn got Snails' attention and motioned the disgruntled math prodigy over.

"Hey, smart guy, think you can solve a math problem for Mister Arcturus?"

"Uh, sure, I can try," Snails said, rubbing his head with a hoof. "What's the problem?" Bright Dawn told him about the Rules of the Game. Particularly the first. "Twelve, huh?" Snails said. "Yyyikes." He scratched his head with his hoof. "Umm, lemme think," he drawled. There was a moment of silence while he ruminated, his nose to the floor. Even the staff unloading the boxes and luggage paused in mid stride to listen. "Gee, umm... okay, it's a natural number.... has six divisors..... a dodecahedron has twelve sides...." He mumbled a bit. "Maybe it has somethin' to do with the kiss number?"

"The kiss number?" One of the fashion models standing next to him, a pale yellow mare with a silky ebon mane, said.

"Ahyeah, the--" Snails raised his head, and promptly developed the red-faced stammer of an adolescent boy who finds himself suddenly speaking to a very attractive lady at close quarters. "Oh, ah, hee, uh, yeah, the ah, k-kiss number--" He kicked a toe in the floor and looked away hastily, face blossoming red. "Its talking about how many balls can be stacked together." He stepped over to a box of yarn and started magically stacking the balls in midair. "If you take a ball, and stack other balls the same size around it, the most you can make touch the first one is twelve... see?" he levitated the cluster of yarn over to us.

We all counted furtively. Twelve. "O' course, that's only in three dimensions," Snails said. "In four dimensions it's 24, in five it's 40 to 44, and in six it's 72 to 78---"

I waved him down. " we get the idea," I said. "Good work."  I picked up a ball of yarn and considered. "It would make sense though. Say that this--" I waved the ball of yarn I held. "Is the universe. And we have twelve other universes bumping up against it. It would stand to reason that we could have only so many in direct contact with our own universe. We're the disputed territory, the other twelve... launching platforms for the other Draconequi? Territories already claimed?.... packed around us, isolating us from the rest of the multiverse."

"So what you're saying is that basically they've got us surrounded," Bright Dawn said.

"Thank you, Bright Dawn," Hat Trick said, deadpan. "You should do motivational speeches."

Twilight Sparkle trotted over from where she'd been shuffling some furniture about and checking one of her infamous checklists off. "Seems like a lot of speculation on little evidence," she said doubtfully.

"True enough," I shrugged. "It's all wild-eyed guessing. But I'd rather spend my time guessing than just waiting."

Twilight nudged a cushion over and sat down. "Well, we're doing our best to eliminate the guesswork," she said. "the Professors at the Unicorn Academy are throwing everything they have into digging up anything we have on Discord." She gave a puff of exasperation, blowing the mane out of her face. "The only thing is we have next to nothing. Even the Princesses don't know much about Discord's past. They say one day he was just there, messing things up..." she shook her head. "They say Equestria suffered a full year of his pranks before anypony even saw him face to face."

Moth suddenly spoke up. He instantly had everyone's attention; when the taciturn negasi said something, it was an event. "Do they know it was just him?"

Twilight blinked. "Well yes, I assume---"

"How?"

We all paused; there was a sense in the air that we were about to all have an epiphany. "Well," Twilight said carefully, "Everything they described seemed typical of him. Deranged, chaotic, destructive, havoc-causing... a full year of it, and something different every month..."

"For a year... or twelve months," Hat Trick pointed out. "Or one draconequus a month?"

Twilight blinked, thinking this over. "You mean.... oh gosh, you think this happened before? It would make sense....." She got to her feet and trotted out the door, a thoughtful expression on her face that we all recognized; wheels and gears were turning like mad behind those purple eyes. A couple of unicorns in plainclothes pulled themselves away from the walls to escort her. "I have to go speak to the princesses again, see how much they can remember..."

 

---

 

Once Rarity was more or less settled in, I decided to take a quick tour and see how the other Bearers were doing. I started with Rainbow Dash. The pegasus speedster had been the quickest to move in, by virtue of simply having her cloud home pushed to Canterlot. It had taken some fussing and quibbling to find a place for it that didn't block the sun for the gardens, or the view from any of the windows, but they'd finally anchored it in place to one of the lower towers. A few extra "walkable cloud" spells, a fluffy white staircase and they were in business. "Didn't even have to clean the place up," she'd said with satisfaction.

I made my way to the tower with my guard and a few other ponies tailing behind. By the time we arrived, I think she was glad for company. Scootaloo was rooming with her, and the little orange filly was bouncing off the walls-- literally; apparently the new spells on her cloud-house were still setting and the walls, floor and ceiling were still at the consistency of a carnival bouncy castle. Dash paused in her efforts to catch the ricocheting filly and greeted us. "Hey guys, hey Arcturus," she said. She sounded a trifle exasperated. "Man am I glad to see you! Think you could take the Pony Pinball here off my hooves for a little while?"

"Actually, we were hoping to foist somepony off on you," I said with a chuckle. I pointed to where SweetieBelle had joined her fellow crusader in bouncing across the cloud-house's elastic floor. The two fillies were squealing with glee. Rainbow Dash groaned at me. "Don't do this to meeeee....!" she pleaded, holding her hooves together and begging.

I laughed out loud at this. "Calm down, calm down," I said. "Rarity asked me to take SweetieBelle off her hooves for a bit. I'm going to see how everyone else is settling in and figured I'd round up the Trio of Terror and find something to keep 'em occupied."

SweetieBelle chipped in as she bounced on the cloud sofa. "Yeah, anything's gotta be better than watching Snips and Snails goobering around all day getting cooties all over everything," she said.

"Those two are here?" Scootaloo asked in disbelief, bouncing along.

"Yeah, they were both there, drooling all over Rarity's models," SweetieBelle said. Both fillies went "ewwww" and started making 'gag-me' motions.

"You're serious?" Rainbow Dash said, eyeing me. I nodded. "Thank you thank you thank you thank you," she said, just low enough for Scootaloo not to hear.

"We're going with you? Cool!" Scootaloo said.

"Where are we gonna go?" SweetieBelle said.

"I dunno, We'll find someplace. I figure someone in Canterlot needs a building demolished," I said with a smirk. Both girls blew raspberries at me.

 

---

 

The next stopoff was the suite where the Apples were residing. They had taken up residence at the bottom of the same tower, just off the entryway. The first thing I noticed as I approached the door was that there was a certain disparity in the guards on either side. One on the right was the typical stalwart armor-clad stallion; the one on the left, on the other hand, appeared to be scarcely more than a helmet and four hooves.

As we approached the helmet stepped forward and issued challenge. "Halt!" it said in a high squeaky voice. "Who goes thar?" Scootaloo and SweetieBelle giggled; I heard one or two of my bodyguard stifle a snicker as well.

I leaned over and addressed the belligerent headgear. "Sir Arthur Arcturus, council to the Princesses, and company-- here to see the Bearer of the Element of Honesty and her family."

The helmet wasn't having it. "Uh uh! The Princess says nobody gits in to see the Bearers, no body, no way, no how!" The voice echoing inside the helmet turned suspicious. "Y'all might be a sab-oh-two-er."

"Oh well then," I said. "I was planning on taking Scootaloo and SweetieBelle here out for ice cream and wanted to invite Applebloom to come along, but since I can't get in to ask..." I turned and pretended to walk off.

"WAIT! Uh, I mean maybe ah can reconsider--" the ambulatory helmet tried to scurry after me, tripped and not so much stumbled as turned turtle, rolling completely over its own dome before falling flat with a clang. I stopped and picked the helmet up, revealing a yellow filly with an apple-red mane and an enormous bow sprawled on the floor. "Now what if I had been an actual saboteur," I chided her, teasing, "and all it took was a bowl of ice cream to get you to leave your post?"

Applebloom looked disgruntled. "Nuts," she said. "No Royal Guardpony cutie mark for me, ah guess..." Out of the corner of my eye I saw the guardsman's eyes twinkling and his sides heaving as he struggled to hold back a laugh.

I chuckled and tousled Applebloom's mane. "At least there's still ice cream," I said.

I looked up and saw a second Guard, sans helmet, come striding up, and handed him his headgear. He looked apologetic. "Sorry, sir," he said, donning the helmet. "Trip to the little colt's room."

I gave a half-bow. "With your permission, gentlemen?" They pushed the door open and I strode inside.

Oh dear.

The room was posh. Posh, posh, posh. The walls were hung with ornate paintings in gilded frames; the furniture, even to my untrained eye, was obviously antique and richly appointed; the rooms were lit with subtle crystal chandeliers--- what passed for subtle in a marble-and-gold layered royal palace, that is. Expensive and fragile knicknacks were everywhere. Applejack, Granny Smith and Big Macintosh were all in, seated around the posh welcoming area around a tea set that looked as frail as eggshells and probably cost more than their barn back home.

Applejack looked tense. Granny Smith looked irritable. And poor Macintosh looked positively miserable.

I looked around the rooms. "....Well," I said. "All settled in?"

"Ummm, more or less," Applejack said, with an awkward grin.

".... Didn't you bring anything from home?" I asked.

"Ahwell, some clothes, Applebloom's toys, Granny's knittin' things... not much else," Applejack admitted. "Nuthin' we had would really fit in such a fancy place like Applebloomwipeyourhooves!!"

"Ah did, ah did!"

"Well do it again!  Um, sorry, Mister Arcturus...."

Mister Arcturus, I noted. Not Arthur. "I'm... sensing you're not very comfortable at the moment."

"Like a settin hen layin' square eggs," Granny said sourly. "Cain't git comftible in this fancy-schmancy chair..." she shifted around, scuffing the legs on the carpeted floor.

"Granny, don't scuff up the chair like Applebloomdon'tTOUCHthat!!"

"Touch what?"

"Anything!!" the sheer panic in Applejack's voice was almost comical in its pathos.

Big Macintosh let out a faint groan. "What's wrong?" I asked.

Applebloom grimaced. "He ain't been feelin' well," she said. "Tummy troubles."

I gave the burly stallion a look."Well, they have doctors on staff here, um, I'm sure they can get you something," I reassured him. "maybe some seltzer?"

"Eenope," he muttered . "Tain't that." He got to his feet and gingerly picked his way through the ornate furniture, motioning for me to follow with the air of a man showing something only another man could understand. Curious, I trailed behind him. He led me past the bedrooms to an unobtrusive door and opened it for me.

I looked inside.  It was the bathroom. "Ye gods," I murmured. The bathroom itself? Large, spacious, with an oversize tub, sink, toilet, and cabinets for towels.... quite nice. The decor?

It was horrific. It was appalling. It was.... frilly. I cannot emphasize how frilly it was without perhaps dipping into exotic foreign languages. What wasn't frilly, was fluffy, what wasn't fluffy was crocheted in pink. The window curtains, the shower curtains, the bathmats, the toilet seat cover. There were potpourri.... things..... everywhere, done up in ribbons. There were folk craft pieces, or what I suspected a blind gay San Francisco interior decorator would mistake for folk craft pieces, decorating the walls. The sink, medicine cabinet, bathtub, soap racks, were overwhelmed with fancy frou frou bottles of pink bath oils, seashell soaps,  and countless miniscule bottles of prissy toiletries--- many with their own cutesy cozies.

It looked like Martha Stewart had exploded.

The jokes about men and the bathroom are legendary.... the male of the house retreating to "sit on the throne" is an iconic image in modern culture. Women find it alternately annoying or funny. What most women don't realize about men is that this is a biological necessity. A man, especially one surrounded daily by women, needs a sanctuary. That sanctuary is usually the lavatory.... primarily because it is the only room in the house that a man can lock the door behind him and noone can bother him under any circumstances. What is more, it's a place where he has to feel at his ease. Radically changing a man's sanctuary can have very real and unpleasant effects on his health.

Back home, Big Macintosh had a bathroom of his own. I'd seen it; it could best be described with words like "spartan" and "rustic." Now, he'd been moved into the castle and been subjected to this: a bathroom from which every last drop of manly solitude had been expunged and replaced with a foot-thick layer of estrogen. And it was a safe bet that the other bathroom in the suite was as bad, or worse. It was a violation of personal manly space on a grand and tragic scale.

I looked at him. "Constipated, huh."

He looked at me, the strain visible in his eyes. "Like a Diamond Dog's garbage disposal," he said miserably.

There was no choice. It was a mission of mercy. Big Macintosh was hesitant to do anything---- I was not.

Before Mac could stop me I stepped into the bathroom and began tearing things down. I tore down the floral-print shower curtain and laid it in the floor. I whipped off the coverlets and cozies, swept the shelves clean of bottles and tubes, stripped everything out till I was down to the tile and the bare walls. I piled every bit of it in the shower curtain, rolled it up in a bundle and threw it out the door, to the startlement of those outside.

I looked around the room. Bare tile and chrome, the way God intended. I looked at Big Macintosh. "Better?" I asked.

He hesitated, apprehensive at the audacity of this random act of redecoration. Then he looked at me with a hint of relief. ".....Eeyup."

There was still a lot of pink, and the aroma of potpourri still hung in the air. I reached in my saddlebag and pulled out a book I'd picked up a while back. "Here you go, big guy, this might help," I said, handing it to him.(11) He held it in his hoof (how DO they do that???) and read the title frowning in puzzlement.

"Uncle John's Bathroom Reader..."

"You might be in here a while," I said. I gave him a pat on the withers and sidled past.

I left Big Macintosh to take care of business and went back into the welcoming room. "Applejack, do you trust me?"

She looked up, puzzled at the question. "Well yeah, ah s'pose so...?"

"Then will you let me make a few changes here? I promise you'll be a lot more comfortable when we're done." Applejack nodded. There were a couple of maids flitting about the corners of the room, dusting at things and looking apprehensive. I cornered one and spoke to her. "Get the majordomo, tell him I said to send the staff and have them basically do for this suite what they did for mine, all right?"

She blinked at me. "Sir?"

 

Back when I had first moved into the castle, I had found my suite had been decorated in the same fashion--- packed to the walls with priceless art and antiques and casually breakable items that were worth more than my annual income back home. Naturally, I'd freaked. I'd promptly demanded that the staff take all the costly accoutrements out of my living quarters, move them someplace safe, and re-fit my room with furniture that wasn't worth the GDP of Bolivia. The head of staff had finally relented and had refit my suite with furniture taken from the servant's quarters--- sturdy, comfortable and affordable. I had to wonder what had possessed the majordomo to move a farming family into a living space so full of expensive bric a brac that they'd be afraid to even move.

"He'll know what I mean," I reassured her."Oh, and have them find a rocking chair for Granny Smith...." She trotted off obediently.

  "Well, I was planning on taking the girls out for ice cream," I indicated the CMC, who were, for a miracle, standing very still in the middle of the room, "but I think we could make room for a few more. Care to join us while they're redecorating in here? Trust me, you'll be a lot more comfortable once they're done." And poor Macintosh will have some place to put his hooves without crushing something, I added mentally.

"Sounds like a plan," Applejack said.

There was a sound of a door locking, and of running water. A terrible groan emanated from the distant bathroom, an ascending and descending scale that dragged on for over a minute, like the refrain from a distressed whale. The room fell awkwardly quiet as the sound of flushing echoed.   "We may need to wait a bit for Big Macintosh, though," I added unnecessarily.

 

---

 

knock, knock. "Hey Pinky. We're going to get ice cream--"

Gallop gallop gallop Slam! "ICE CREEEEEAAAAM!!!"

CRASH!

"Artie? Artie, you okay?"

 

---

 

Gathering the rest of the crew was more or less uneventful. Fluttershy was in the royal gardens, cautiously making acquaintance with the animals there with the help of the groundskeeper. True to her shy nature, she opted not to go. I promised to bring back a pint of violet-petal and vanilla for her.

Twilight had taken up her old quarters again, but at the moment was encamped in the royal library with Princess Luna, and what had to be half the scholars in Canterlot... We couldn't have pried Twilight away with a crowbar, but Spike was more than willing to be pulled loose. Twilight brushed him along after us, barely looking up from her scrolls to secure a promise of a pint of butter brickle.

In short order we were all down at the local ice cream shoppe, much to the consternation of the staff, and enjoying our ice cream. Pinkie Pie amused me to no end by forcing ice cream cones on all the security staff that had accompanied us. I dare anyone, even a guardpony of the strictest military discipline, to refuse those puppy-dog eyes. The rest of us had gone for various sundaes and other treats; the Cutie Mark Crusaders were sharing a banana split large enough that the three of them could have gone canoeing in the dish afterward and pummeling Jonquil (who was working her way through a honeysuckle cone nearly as big as she was-- Tres adorable) with nonstop questions about all things Flutterpony.

The small talk inevitably drifted around to the crisis of the hour--- the Draconequi-- and whatever it was that Twilight was up to. "So yeah, Twilight's been running everyone ragged all day," Spike told us over his sapphire sprinkle sundae. "Something you said to her clicked, I guess.  She's been picking the Princess' brains for every little detail about when Discord first showed up." He gulped down another scoop of ice cream. "Whatever it is, I think it must be mega huge."

"Did she tell y'all whut it was?" Applejack said. "Or give y'all a hint?"

Spike shook his head. "Nah, she didn't tell me anything. Nothing that made sense, anyway," he said. "But whatever it is, she says they'll probably be making an announcement in a couple of days."

"An announcement? To whom?" I asked.

Spike licked his spoon. "To everypony," he said.

 

---

 

About a week later, the throne room of Canterlot castle was packed. All three alicorn princesses, Celestia, Luna, and Cadence, were holding court, and every pony of note or influence was in attendance--- nobles, dignitaries, scholars, the staff of the Unicorn Academy, the leaders of the military, the press, the mayors of every city, ambassadors from several neighboring nations, the Bearers of the Elements.... and Celestia and Luna's advisory staff, including my good self.  We were all present for the first major briefing concerning the Draconequus threat.... a presentation given by several of Celestia, Luna and Cadence's top researchers, to be led by Twilight Sparkle, acolyte of Celestia, bearer of the element of Magic. All of Equestria was glued to its radios and television sets,(12) waiting for whatever crumbs of knowledge the assembled ponies had to give.

Twilight Sparkle climbed up to the podium and addressed the audience. To her credit there was no quaver in her voice. You'd have to know her to see how nervous she was. "Mares and Gentleponies," she said. "Not long ago, our nation was put through a tremendous challenge, with the escape and return of the chaos entity, the tyrant Discord. He was, thankfully, quickly defeated and re-imprisoned, and Equestria was restored to order and sanity by the power of the Elements of Harmony." There was a smattering of applause. "Unfortunately, recent events have confirmed that this was not the end of the issue. Unbeknown to anyone, even the Princesses, Discord's... life cycle was nearing its end. The strain of his escape, and of his subsequent re-imprisonment, hastened his end." There were actual murmurs of dismay at this. At times even I must confess that these ponies are better at heart than most men.

"We learned, after the fact, that his demise held consequences for all of Equestria" she continued. "Consequences nopony could have foreseen. With his dissolution, the territory he once controlled has now come into dispute with others of his kind." The murmuring amongst the audience grew. Twilight raised her voice to be heard. "Our kingdom, and possibly our entire world, are now the prize in a conflict between the Draconequi."

The murmur rose into a full roar at this. Celestia got to her hooves, wings flared, and called for "Silence, please!" the roar hastily dropped to a murmur and faded out. "Who are they?" Somepony shouted. "What do they want?" before being shushed by those around them.

Twilight looked in the direction of the pony who spoke. "The draconequi are, self-evidently, Discord's species," she said. "They are extradimensional beings who live outside of time and space, between the Universes. They are entities based and rooted in Chaos magic, and they feed on Order. As to what they want... they are competing for the role of Avatar of Chaos in our dimension.

"There are certain things we have already confirmed. We know that there are twelve of them." This caused some rather vocal alarm. "We know that they are all younger, and at least as powerful as Discord was. We also know," she said loudly, over the raised voices, "that they are bound by certain rules in their contest for this world. And we know that we can influence the outcome of this contest, and will strive to do so in our favor."

Though we don't know how to influence it, I thought to myself. Or if there is any outcome that works in our favor at all. We may be stuck with a choice of the lesser of two evils.

A pegasus reporter pony stepped forward, waving a hoof for attention. " Byline, from the Cloudsdale Clarion...And how do we know all this?"

"Because this is not the first time this has happened," Twilight said. A ghostly magical screen appeared in midair behind her. Several woodcut-style images of a Draconequus, presumably Discord, rolled by. "Several thousand years ago, when Discord first appeared in Equestria, he was first heralded by twelve months of strange, unnatural phenomena." The woodcuts were now interspersed with various sketches, carvings, bas-relief images, images from tapestries... each showing the Chaos entity engaged in some particular mischief or other. "Rains of fish and frogs, lakes that disappeared and reappeared, upside-down mountains, forests that uprooted themselves and started walking....in retrospect they were all attributed to Discord, but the evidence we've gleaned suggests that each of these events was actually caused by a different Draconequus, each one a .... contestant for the role of Avatar of Chaos. We consulted with the Princesses, who confirmed that each of these events was separate. Each one taking place by itself, no more than one each month, for twelve months."

She lowered her eyes. "The winner was obviously Discord." The image changed to show a crude drawing of Discord, tapping a pony on the head with his claw. The pony in the image was half greyed-out. "We believe that his... trial run... was the fifth. The ponies at the time called it the Gray Plague. Any pony afflicted by it lost all their coloration, and had their personality completely changed, even inverted--- Effects that were more or less Discord's signature. The mayhem it caused in that short month was immeasurable. We have since developed defenses against mental attacks like this and made them available to the public. But it was most likely what 'won' the contest for Discord back then." The screen disappeared.

The inevitable question came up. "Why twelve?" somepony in the press pool asked.

"For that, I'll have to turn you over to my associate, Professor Cosmic Constant," Twilight said. She stepped down, gesturing to a pony standing nearby. It was a light yellow-green Earth pony in a white lab coat, with a grayish mustache and a white mane that hung about his head like a cloud. Another of Equestria's chronic little amusements. I was willing to wager he had an atomic symbol on his flank under that coat. Or maybe E=mc^2?

The science pony stepped up to the podium and spoke. "Tank you, Docterr Tvilight," he said (oh glee, german accent and all!) "Vell, you are asking vy there should be only tvelve of ze Draconekvus. It so happens dot a recent discovery in ze matematics and theoretical physics may shed light on dis. Inspired by an insight from my young pupil and assistant, Shnails--" he gestured magnanimously to the colt, who flushed and shuffled his hooves bashfully-- "into ze nature of ze mathematical structure of ze universe. Schnails, iff you vould please...?"

Snails took his cue and pushed a small bucket forward. A brief flicker of his horn and a ping pong ball floated up out of the pail. "Now, ze kvestion is related to ze Kepler Conjecture, or ze 'kiss problem,' as it is sometimes known. I dunt know about dot. Vere I come from ze 'kiss problem' has to do mit a pretty girl und standing on ze porch after a date." Here he grinned and waggled his eyebrows at the audience, his eyes twinkling. There was scattered laughter. "But no. ze 'kiss problem' is ze kvestion of how many spheres of ekval size can be placed so zat dey are all touching a central sphere of ze same size." As he spoke, more ping pong balls came floating up out of Snails' bucket. They clustered around the first one in a tidy packet. "As you kin see, ze answer in three dimenshunz is twelve. Coincidentally, ze number of sides in ze dodecahedron, und corners in ze isocahedron... vich are both related in structure to ze golden ratio. In higher dimensions, ze kiss number is much higher, of course. However, internally ve are a three dimensional universe with certain given mathematical constants."

He made another hoof-motion to Snails. The clustered ping pong balls spread out, forming an isocahedron around the central ball. "Now, let us pretend zis central ball is ze universe.  Even in higher dimensions, zere are constants determined, by ze golden ratio. Vich means that ven you extrapolate zese mathematical constants outvards, only a certain number of universes touching ours, at external points determined by ze golden ratio, will share in our constants and are zerefore capable of bridging mit our own. "

"You mean our universe is linked to twelve others....?"

"Nein, nein..."

"Nine of them--"

"Ach," Cosmic Constant said, facehoofing. " I mean NO! Dumkoppfen.... It is more...." he fumbled a bit. "Ah, do you remember ze toy, der ball mit der shapes---" he sketched a shape with his hooves in midair.

Twilight's face lit up. "Ah, I know what you mean, Professor..." Her horn glowed and the screen reappeared. On it was a rather familiar spherical toy with shapes cut in the sides. "Ah, yes," Cosmic Constant said. "Dats der jasper."

Twilight blushed. "I had one as a filly," she said.

"Hey, I had one of those too," Dash said next to me. "Too bad it broke."

"What happened to it?"Spike asked her.

She turned red. "I got the shapes stuck in the wrong holes..."

"Ehh, a good whack with a rubber mallet 'd get them out," Spike said knowingly.

"Anyvay.... imagine dot ball is our universe, and ze shapes are stars or planets--- or ponies. And ze holes, zey represent our universal constants. Zey can only get out through ze holes, and only get in another universe mit der same holes. Another universe mit different holes? No good." He shook his head. "Ze Drakonekvi, they may live in the Outer Dimensions, but zey vant universes like ours. Mit our laws of time, und space, und nature. And such universes will have ze twelve points. Vich, as cosmic coincidence vould have it, are also ze point vere other universes like ours vill be close to us, in ze hyperspace.

"So each vun has taken up one of ze access points...." he pointed to the hovering ping-pong balls. "Till ze contest is decided. Not so much to keep us in--- but to keep other drakonekvi out. Ve haff tvelve Discords because ve have tvelve points of access."

"So let me see if I have this straight," a blue green unicorn reporter said. "We've basically got twelve Discords because our universe has twelve seats?"

I had a brief vision of twelve Draconequi sitting in the contestant's row on 'The Price is Right.' "Discord Draconequus, come on down !!...." I shook it off. Cosmic Constant mulled that over. "Er, yah," he said reluctantly. "I suppose dot could be a... vorkable summary.... Mister...?"

"Teal Deer, Daily Tweet."

("You would be," I muttered to myself, facepalming. Applejack shushed me.)

"And my next question; what good does all this information do us? What's the point of this?"

The Professor stood there a moment, flummoxed. I didn't have to read his mind to know why. Cosmic Constant wasn't tongue tied because he didn't think the information was useful. He was tongue tied because he was a pure researcher. To him the question was irrelevant. For him, the data was the whole point of the exercise.

Of course, to the average pony it looked like he'd been 'caught out' by a clever question, that a clever reporter fishing for a bumper-sticker caption had unmasked the proceedings as pointless smoke blowing. The crowd stirred restlessly. Even as Teal Deer stood there smirking I could hear the morale of the citizens back home fizzling away like a punctured balloon.

Thank God, Twilight Sparkle stepped up to microphone. "The point, Mister Teal Deer, is that we have hope," she said, glaring at him. "The point is that they may be playing a game, but we're playing to win. And we've already done more than even Discord expected of us--- we're figuring out the rules. And every new rule we figure out means we're another step closer to winning.

"This is not the first time a Draconequus has underestimated us. There's an empty pedestal out in the royal hedge maze that stands proof to that. We are not helpless pawns in this contest, we are not toys to be played with, and when this is over and we've beaten them at their own game, every last one of those fricking lawn ornaments will know it!"

The applause was thunderous. Twilight went on. "We know now that we will face twelve of these creatures, each in their turn; that these attacks will be spaced a month apart; that each Draconequus will be limited to one change to reality. That gives us leverage, it gives us breathing space-- and most importantly it gives us time. Time to prepare for each attack, time to find a way to further turn the tables on the Draconequi. I would urge every pony listening now to follow the advice that the Princesses have released to prepare for a Discordian event, and that they work together through this challenging time. That we all keep calm, stay strong, and carry on." More applause greeted this.

Another reporter stood. "Do we have any idea what each of these attacks will be like?"

"For that I have to turn you over to Parchment Pages, our head archival researcher," Twilight said. "Pages?"

A dark blue unicorn with a parchment scroll cutie mark stepped up to the microphone. The floating screen reappeared; some of the images seen before flickered past. "One is tempted to say that a Chaos Avatar's behavior is, by definition, impossible to predict," he said drily. "Fortunately for all of us, draconequi are still thinking beings, and therefore creatures of habit--- and not particularly original ones at that." There was a brief chuckle from the audience. "During his reign, for example, Discord demonstrated a tendency to the same sort of tricks and stunts, over and over again. Chocolate rain, cotton candy clouds, checkerboard grass, floating upside down houses.... the stunts of someone who got their concept of 'chaos' by browsing the first wing of a modern art museum." More laughter greeted this. "This of course was his own individual quirk. It's safe to suspect that other Draconequi would have different 'styles' or motifs."

More images slid past. "However the events that took place in what we now call the Chaos Ascension--- the period which Discord and the other unknkown Draconequi competed for the throne of Equestria--- shows a radically different motif... and yet a predictable theme." More images, in rapid succession. "Inverted mountains. Flying rivers. Disappearing lakes. Rains of frogs. In short.... a theme of Nature. Even the 'winning' entry... the 'discording' of ponies... was arguably a tampering with a fundamental feature of Nature, namely the Pony species itself."

The screen vanished again. "Apparently, the competition is based off a preselected theme. Best entry... presumably the one that causes the most chaos with the least effort, without breaking from the theme."

"Do we know what theme they've selected this time?"

Cosmic Constant stepped back to the microphone, edging Parchment aside. "As a matter of fact, ya, ve do haff a good guess," he said. "It seems dat zis time zey are meddling with things more.... fundamental. Ze laws of physics zemselfs."

The audience rumbled. "And how do we know this?" the reporter persisted.

"Because we have suffered one attack already," Parchment Pages chipped in. "The anomaly that hit Canterlot a few weeks ago."

"Dot vun," Cosmic Constant said, "Vas a tampering mit ze laws of gravity."

"--By a chaos entity we now know to be named 'Ataxia,' Parchment Pages said.

There was a loud clatter. Every pony on the dais jumped. It seemed that all this time Snails had been obediently levitating the ping-pong ball display and, finally, had lost his telekinetic grip. Ping pong balls bounced and skittered about underhoof. "Sorry, sorry..." he said, scurrying about, trying to catch the bouncing globes.

"Ach, vy did you not put dose avay?" Cosmic Constant said. "Quickly, now, get zem up-- ach, schnell, Shnails, schnell!"

There was good natured, if nervous laughter as Snails gathered up the wayward balls. Eventually everyone decided to ignore the "pock pock pock" of bouncing ping pongs and focused on the task at hand. "How soon will the next attack? Do we know?" somepony finally ventured.

"Soon," Twilight Sparkle said. "We don't know exactly how long, but it has been very close to a month since the last event, so it could be any day or moment now. Again, we urge everypony listening to be prepared, to the best of your abilities...." the pock pock pock noise in the background continued. "Snails, would you please just scoop those things up??" Twilight said over her shoulder.

"Uhh..."

"Mein Himmel, boy, be about it..."

"Uhh, Professor..."

"Ach, can you not handle a simple task like--"

"Professor!"

Everyone stopped. The scientists and scholars all turned to look at Snails. He was standing foursquare in the middle of the stage, eyes riveted on a single bouncing ping pong ball. Which was not slowing down. It was, in fact, increasing its height with every bounce. "....I think we have a little problem..." Snails said.

Everyone present watched as the ball ticked off another, setting it to bouncing as well and traveling across the stage. Then another, and then those two ricocheted off others.... "Actually, it's a BIG one," Snails corrected himself, slowly backing away.

The bizarre display continued. Soon every loose ping pong ball was bouncing of its own accord. And it took a moment, but anyone could see they weren't bouncing right. Some seemed to be bouncing almost in slow motion; others were careening back and forth, altering their trajectory for no apparent reason. Some were striking the floor and stopping cold, as if they'd stuck to flypaper... only to spontaneously start bouncing again, popping into the air like a popcorn kernel. As I watched, a single ball struck a briefcase.... which promptly sailed across the room, careening off a wall. Another struck a stage light sending it tumbling end over end like it had been swatted with a baseball bat.

Cosmic Constant spun and looked at the Princesses. "Sound ze alarm, your Highnesses," he said, his face grim. They hesitated. "Sound ze alarm!" Cosmic Constant repeated, shouting. "It is ze second attack!"

Celestia stood, horn flaring. All over the city klaxons began sounding; the sound made known all over Equestria as the Discord Alarm. Twilight held on to the microphone even as the room began filling with loose objects moving at impossible angles and irrational vectors. "Attention to all Equestria! This is it, this is the second Chaos Event. Please follow your local Civil Defense plans and stay in your homes!"

The bodyguards went to work, doing their best to lead important figureheads to safety even as the panic around us grew. "What in tarnation's going on?" Applejack shouted.

"Draconequi, DUH," Rainbow Dash shouted back, dodging a camera that went hurtling past.

"Ah know that! But what are they doin'?" Applejack waved at the chaos around us. Even as we watched, a pair of guards running to the rescue bumped into each other and went shooting off in opposite directions like a pair of superballs.

"Action and Reaction," I said over the tumult. "Conservation of momentum. Don't look now, but it looks like Newtons' three laws of motion just went out the window!"

 

---

 

1)okay, my inner Brony was also going "squee" a lot.....

2)How their parents knew ahead of time what to name their child was something of a mystery to the other pony races, who in their own case resorted to either outright name changes, or heaping scads of "middle" names to cover any possibilities. "We just know" was the only answer any Flutterpony mother could give.

3)Celestia and Luna were getting remarkably subtle and clever about the bodyguards chosen for each of the Bearers. Twilight, for example, had an escort entirely of unicorns, the better to coordinate their magical defenses with her own considerable abilities. Rarity's protectors on the other hand were a team of graceful and lovely mares. Their cover was as models working for her, and served in that capacity--- but I was assured that under the coiffed hairdos and frou-frou dresses each of them was a ruthless and efficient fighting machine, and that even the daintiest of them could have folded up Big Macintosh like a cardboard box.

4)Modified lessons, admittedly. It was something of a co-op between Rainbow Dash, Scootaloo and Twilight, who wanted to analyze Scootaloo's unusual flying style.

5)save, of course, for the redoubtable Angel, who never left his mistress' side.

6)I think U C wat I did ther.

7)To get an idea of how the Princesses got their pocket money, watch THIS.

8)That wasn't extravagance so much as common sense; who else would the Princesses hire to take care of Zap Apple trees?

9)Granny Smith's reaction to the offer could be best paraphrased as "And up from the ground come a bubblin' crude!"

10) getting her little hoofies on a royal supply of Sweet Apple Acres Cider didn't hurt either.

11) Law of nature: including reading material in a bathroom increases its manliness quotient 15%.

12)The Princesses were all long convinced of the value and utility of television and radio communications. after the gravity attack incident, they were no longer willing to tolerate any hoof-dragging by the government and implemented the technology nationwide. Within mere days the military and civil services had a full, if crude, network of radio communications, and every town and hamlet in Equestria had at least one functioning radio station. Cheap TV sets were jumping off the shelves shortly thereafter. The setup and broadcast regulations would have the FCC tearing its hair out and any electronics engineer who looked inside one of the sets would be left curled up in a corner sucking his thumb and sobbing, but it worked.