"And they all have stupid, made-up names. Like 'Francis.'"

The Everfree Forest was full of Keynesian liberal socialists. Sweetie Belle got kidnapped no less than three times by their shadowy vines. The first two times Apple Bloom and Scootaloo managed to wrestle the vines to the ground and forced them to release Sweetie Belle, but the third time the vines snatched her away before they could catch her.

“Don’t worry, Sweetie Belle!” Apple Bloom called as she and Scootaloo walked through the forest. “We will bring the light of economic knowledge into the darkness and save you!”

“For Austria!” Scootaloo added.

Fighting their way through the forest of economic fallacies[1] was actually kind of fun, almost like a game—a game, Scootaloo was quick to remind them, concerning the very fate of cooperation in Equestria. Scootaloo’s unerring aim with an acorn got them through one challenge, and Apple Bloom took them through a maze of thorns by always turning left. Crawling under the last of the thorns, they emerged into a clearing lit by a blue glow. In the center was a statue of a Pegasus holding a book in one forehoof and a spear in the other. There was an inscription at the base of the statue. Apple Bloom read what was legible out loud.

Knowledge shrinks what ignorance compounds

Uncertainty brought you here to-day

No profit led you, but profit you found

When the Night called you to play

“What’s that mean?” Scootaloo said.

[1]”Everfree?” Apple Bloom shouted, kicking a rock. “How about the Competitive Market Price Forest? Socialists!”

“Who’re we playing with?” Apple Bloom demanded. “Life ain’t a game.”[2]

There was a clip-clop of hooves behind them, and a deep voice spoke. “Frankie Knight, an economist subtle. To this day she remains a puzzle.”

[2]The Tree of Isomorphism, which, unbeknownst to Apple Bloom, was only a few meters away, bristled at the insult. Fortunately for our young heroes, the Tree of Isomorphism was also incredibly shy, and, more importantly, a tree, and so not really capable of doing much.

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo spun around. Entering the clearing was a black-and-white striped pony with gold hoops in her ears and around her neck. She was carrying a saddlebag and Sweetie Belle on her back, who gnawed on her scalp.

“I caught a Keynesian liberal socialist!” she said in between bites of striped pony head. “Quick, help me take her down!”

The striped pony looked embarrassed. “Found I did this young one hither among the vines that snake and slither. A Keynesian socialist I am not. I believe her name is Sweetie Bot.”

“Sweetie Belle!” Sweetie Belle said. “Fear my a priori magic!” She closed her eyes. A faint green glow appeared at the tip of her horn, wavered, and soon gave up in a way that reminded Scootaloo of ponies considering her for adoption.

The striped pony shook her whole body, sending the gold hoops jangling and Sweetie Belle flying off. She landed with a thump on the soft dirt and jumped to her feet.

Apple Bloom strode to the fore. “Girls, we can’t win on our own. Let’s unite! Praxeology mode!” Sweetie Belle dashed to her side, and Scootaloo jumped on top of their backs.

“With the power of our scientifically logical friendship, we’ll ev—evisc—eviscerate you!” Scootaloo declared. She thrust her forehoofs out. “PRAXEOLOGY BEAM!”

Nothing happened.

The striped pony’s eyes were wide and uncomprehending, like Applejack’s had been when Apple Bloom had asked if it was really okay to eat nothing but apples for every meal. “The forest’s magic is a peculiar kind, but you young fillies are out of your minds. My name is Zecora, and know this: I am a zebra; you judge amiss.”

“You’re not a Keynesian liberal socialist?” Apple Bloom grunted under Scootaloo’s weight. Zecora shook her head. “Well, would you like to be an Austrian?” Zecora hesitated, then nodded. Apple Bloom glanced at Sweetie Belle, who was clearly suffering. “Uh…you’re an Austrian.”

“Hooray!” Scootaloo jumped off their backs and held a hoof out to Zecora, who touched it awkwardly. “Now we are four. For Mises!”

“And Hay Ech!” Apple Bloom said.

“And Davenport!” Sweetie Belle said.

Scootaloo facehoofed. “Sweetie Belle, get with the program, will you?”

Zecora watched all this in utter bafflement. “Don’t you know a zebra’s nature? Ponies fear us frightful creatures.”

“Nah, we’ll just trade with you,” Apple Bloom said.

“I don’t know anything about zebras. I don’t know anything at all!” Sweetie Belle giggled and played with her hair.

“Your parents will be looking for you. Return to your homes and speak not of what I do.”

“I don’t have any parents,” Scootaloo said brightly. “What do you do?”

“Yeah, and our sisters are out slaying a dragon,” Apple Bloom said. “We reckoned it might be in here. Are you the dragon?”

“I am a zebra, as I said. Were I a dragon, you three would be dead.”

“Didja see which way it went?”

“No dragon will you find here. Greater dangers lurk, I fear. You fillies should not have strode into the Chaos King’s abode.”

“Whatcha gonna do about it?” Apple Bloom said. “We got freedom.”

“Yeah!” the other two said.

Zecora sighed. “Then come with me, and I will keep you safe. I have work to do, so do not chafe.”

“What kind of work do you do?” Scootaloo said as they bounced after Zecora through the forest.

“Work the Princess Eos has requested that the King of Chaos may again be bested.”

“Princess who?”

“King of what?”

“What do you do?”

Zecora mulled over her answer. “In the forest much is hidden of Equestria’s history unbidden.”

“You’re learning about the past?” Sweetie Belle said. Zecora nodded.

“When the shattered atmosphere returns in full, the heavens the Sisters will no longer pull. Equality and peace will reign, and on no magic will depend our rain.”

“What?” Scootaloo said.

“She’s going to make the sun move on its own!” Sweetie Belle translated, too engrossed to be stupid.

“That’s how it used to be?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Yes, good guess. Know we do from ancient primates that something went wrong with our climate. Finding out more about the original state is what I do to help wipe clean the slate.”

Apple Bloom completed the rhyme automatically. “Opportunities forgone and ponies ignored led to a world that was nearly destroyed.” She frowned. Where had that come from? The word was on the tip of her tongue. Ex…extinction? No, exter…extermination?

“You have learned something important,” Zecora said, looking serious. “This knowledge you cannot recant. Some things have a price unseen when no pony hears another scream.”

“Outer space?” Scootaloo said, completely lost.

Zecora pushed aside the brush. A small house emerged into view. “If you are so convinced to trust me, then come inside; it is hardly musty. But perhaps a zebra you cannot understand, being ponies from another land.”

“You got food?” Apple Bloom said.

“Yes, watercress.”

“Then we’re coming in.” Applejack said never to turn down free food, or free anything for that matter.

The inside of Zecora’s house was a lot like Twilight’s old treehouse but smaller. It was filled with books and was otherwise sparse except for a big cauldron bubbling green stuff in the center of the room. Zecora came in after them while they crowded around the cauldron.

“What’s that?” Sweetie Belle said.

“Is it a hot tub?” Scootaloo said. Rainbow Dash said she was going to buy one because they were awesome. Scootaloo didn’t know what a hot tub was, but now she was all about hot tubs.

“It is a tub and it is hot, but do not hop into the pot. This is a time machine I am baking so the world I can be saving.”

“You can’t bake a time portal,” Apple Bloom scoffed.

“No? I rather think I can. Or at least that is the plan. Tested it I admit I’ve not. So perhaps it’s all of you into the pot!”

Apple Bloom spun around, teeth bared, but Zecora laughed. “The faces on you fillies sweet, so ferocious as to be a treat! Perhaps I am unused to ponies so blind that to a zebra they can be kind.”

“We don’t care if you’re a zebra,” Apple Bloom said, her heart still pounding. “Just don’t eat us is all.”

“I promise on the Life Creator that to my word I am no traitor. No filly shall I eat today, in this time and in this way.” She caught Apple Bloom’s expression and laughed again. “Zebras do not eat meat! To choke one of you down would be a feat.”

“Not knowing things about other ponies is scary,” Apple Bloom objected. “Tain’t right.”

Zecora bent her four knees and bowed. “Apologize I truly do. You fillies are a pure-hearted crew. Perhaps my test will be a success if with your company I am blessed.”

Scootaloo’s eyes grew wide as saucers. “We can travel back in time with you?”

“If we step on an ant, will our grandmares not be born?” Sweetie Belle asked.

Zecora frowned. “No direct interference should be possible. To the past we are not even audible. That is the nature of speech. Backwards in time it does not reach.”

“Communication sure is hard,” Apple Bloom said, mostly to herself. “Okay! Let’s do it, girls! We’ll learn what the past never could have told us and use it to create a second Austria! Once we find out what the first one was!”

“Yeah!”

Zecora smiled. “Then into the pot with you three at once. Our meeting surely is a bunce.”

“Now she’s reaching,” Sweetie Belle whispered as they clambered into the cauldron. The green liquid was thicker than water, but not unpleasant, like sitting in hot green apple juice.

“Are you coming?” Scootaloo said.

Zecora nodded. “I will come, but as an enchantress, so for this ritual I must do my dances.” She cavorted around the cramped room in an odd way. “Look at me while I do my prances. Now what will I do? I will jump in the stew.” She landed with a splash in the middle of the three of them, nearing upsetting the cauldron. “And we’ll travel back in time in this hot tub time machine that I brewed!”

The pot began to shake; the green liquid bubbled up around them, everything began to spin, and the world blurred; Apple Bloom clutched the edges of the cauldron, which tipped over, spilling them out onto the ground.

“Are we in the past?” Apple Bloom said, getting shakily to her feet. “Did it work?” She looked around and seemed to have her answer. The cauldron was still there, but the rest of Zecora’s house was gone. The forest looked different, too. The trees weren’t in the same places as before. Then again, in the Everfree Forest that wasn’t much proof.

“Eek, my coat!” Sweetie Belle wiped desperately at the green stuff. Zecora produced a flask of something clear she poured on their coats, and the green stuff fell off like it was afraid of their hair.

“What time did we come back to?” Scootaloo said.

“We returned to a time of which I am most curious, when the Knights of Economics were at their most furious.”

“The Knights of Economics?” Scootaloo said. “That sounds almost as cool as being an Austrian Crusader!”

“I do not know these Austrian warriors. Yet it can be assured the Knights were much gorier. Come, little fillies, to see a sight of great econoponies in their might.”

“Gore?” Scootaloo said. “Cool!”

They followed Zecora through the forest. True to her word, even the Everfree Forest didn’t seem to notice them. They walked past thorns and vines as if completely invisible.

Soon a castle came into view. They walked across the drawbridge, passing a trim-looking sea serpent, and went inside the walls. There were seven main buildings, each a different color. Zecora set off for the one in the center, painted violet.

“Approach we do the ancient library. Though I would like to sample the heralded winery.”

In the library was a big round table and seven ponies sitting around it. It looked like there was room for two more. They heard the clip-clop of hooves striking the ground behind them, and they quickly moved to the side as a Pegasus slowly walked into the room. She carried a book tucked under her foreleg and a spear in her mouth with tattered pages stabbed around the point. The ink on the pages looked like it had run and now was drying. It looked like blood spilled on the carcass of a dead animal. As for the spear itself, it was twisted and knotty like a branch that had tried to grow from itself back to the tree, or like two branches intertwined. The point looked like something ancient, not quite stone, and the edges were marred, chipped; the spear was for use, not for show. The mare’s face was controlled and serious, and something radiated from her, an aura, Apple Bloom would have called it, if she had known the word.

This Pegasus, Apple Bloom didn’t quite have the vocabulary to express, had an Aura of Power. It was bigger than Twilight’s. It was even bigger than Miss Cheerilee’s, and she was a teacher.

“So pleased you could make it, Frankie,” said the Unicorn at the seat opposite to where the Pegasus strode, sounding very much unpleased. Her mane was trimmed short, and when she spoke, wrinkles moved around her eyes like the ripples from a stone cast into a pond. She had a bag that she clutched tightly to her, and her pink magic wrapped around it protectively. Apple Bloom only knew a little bit about magic, but the shield looked even more serious than what Twilight used to protect her books when she and the other fillies were “roughhousing,” the word Twilight used for “playing.”

The Pegasus set the book down and leaned the spear against the table. She carefully plucked the pages off the point and set them inside the book. Then she sat down.

“Forgive my lateness,” she said. “Ludmilla. How is Wieser?”

The fillies gasped. “She is well,” Ludmilla von Mises answered curtly. “And your student?”

“Her thesis is trash. She will fail, like all the others.”

“And those ruined pages? Whose book did you review?”

A slight smile touched Frankie Knight’s face. “One belonging to a Ms. Hay Ech. I think you know her.”

Ludmilla grunted.

“I don’t think they like each other very much,” Sweetie Belle whispered.

“Well!” said a smaller pony who seemed to be thinking along similar lines. Her chin was long and her mane a curly mess. She carried an ornate staff somewhat awkwardly, as if it was something she had inherited not long ago. Frankie Knight glared at her, and she withered. “Um, um…Ludmilla, how are the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony? And the Elements themselves?”

“They are safe and well, Cecilia,” Ludmilla said stiffly, patting the bag. “We used their power recently to drive back a terrible evil. Now it doesn’t know how to make any kind of decisions at all. That should hold it back—for a while, at least.” Frankie Knight snorted.

“Cecilia Pigou,” Zecora said. “A younger knight, that I knew.”

“Frankie Knight doesn’t like her very much either,” Sweetie Belle said.

“I don’t think Frankie Knight likes anypony very much,” Apple Bloom whispered. None of the knights could hear her, but they all talked in low voices for some reason. Apple Bloom had the feeling they were Getting Into Hijinks.

“All problems have the same fundamental structure,” Frankie Knight said. “If the Elements are a source of confusion unto the darkness, then they are the same unto us.”

“Don’t be absurd, Frankie, girl!” exclaimed an Earth Pony wearing the weirdest goggles Apple Bloom had ever seen. They made one eye look big and the other look small. She was frightfully skinny, the tendons visible under her skin. “You always did dislike new things. Speaking of which, come take a look at my filing system sometime. I think it will delight and terrify you.”

“No, thank you, Irene,” Frankie Knight said. “Are you feeling well?”

“Healthier than a diet of wheat and honey!” Irene said. “Keeps me on track and organized! Got to love organization!”

“Irene Fisher, if I am not mistaken,” Zecora said. “Do not ask where her daughter was taken.”

The stout red Earth Pony opposite Irene let out a huge burp. The commotion rattled the long, thin blade engraved with faintly glowing ancient mystic runes[3] that she had leaning against the table. She took a long drink from a flask and wiped her mouth with her foreleg. “Ahh! Nothing like a diet of fresh eggs and friendship.” She shook her flask, looking disappointed at the weak sloshing. “Would that diminishing returns were not a universal principle. Ah, well!” She finished off the last of the stuff in a single gulp. Even from a distance and through the eons of time, Apple Bloom could smell it burning, like the apple stuff Big Mac would brew sometimes and never let her touch.

“Phila Wicksteed, who for the knights made armored dresses,” Zecora said. “A Unitarian who believes in only one of the Princesses.”

[3]Everypony can recognize ancient mystic runes. A little-known fact is that ancient mystic runes don’t actually mean anything. They exist to say, “Right, you are messing with ancient mystic stuff right now, piece of advice: don’t.” As for the ancient mystics themselves, they mostly like to be let alone to live lives of simplicity and internal peace as best exemplified through the mastery of eldritch and deadly magical arts. Like time travel.

“I was thinking about that just the other day,” said a Pegasus wearing a stylish red jacket and a white cravat. By her side was a many-legged box that looked more like it was dozing than inert. “But today I am thinking about something else entirely. I envy your powers of concentration, Frankie.”

“You have nothing to envy, Francesca,” Frankie Knight said, looking absently at the table.

“Francesca Edgeworth of the Box,” Zecora said. “It was known to carry many socks.”

An oversized pair of scissors glowing in a blueish light swooped and dived through the air, running into the table, where it cut through the stone like it was paper.

“I apologize,” an aged Unicorn said, levitating the scissors to her. Though her body was frail, her gaze was deep. By the way the skin sagged around her head, it almost looked as if the contents of her skull had just gotten too heavy to hold up. “My word, these scissors of mine do seem to be able to cut through anything, don’t they? Eh, Cecilia?”

Cecilia nodded uncomfortably. “As you say, Alice.”

Zecora spoke. “Alice Marshall, held in high esteem. Of the crop she is the cream.”

“And that’s everypony, isn’t it?” Frankie Knight said. “Where is Nute?”

“Nute, ‘your majesty’s most obedient servant,’ is in the Cyrstal Empire, doing Celestia-knows-what there,” Irene said. “Useless pony.” She looked to Ludmilla. “Well? Got anything to say for her?” Ludmilla grimaced and didn’t answer.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence.

“Nute Wicksell, I assume,” Zecora murmured to herself. “Did her absence bring their doom?”

“I don’t think any of these ponies are friends,” Apple Bloom said. “I don’t think they like each other. Especially none of them like Frankie Knight, and she doesn’t like any of them. She shouldn’t be the leader.”

Zecora shook her head. “Frankie Knight is not just a smarty. She is the pony of no party.” Her eyes glowed with interest. “Was there anypony who ever saw so far as to the Universal Question and the end of war?”

“But they’re not friends,” Apple Bloom insisted. She knew, without being able to explain, that there was something wrong with these ponies. They were missing something she had always taken for granted.

“Well, I’m just glad we’re all together again,” said a yellow Unicorn with a red and yellow mane and a fiery red and yellow sun on her flank. “Since you’re all my very best friends.”

Zecora frowned. “That Unicorn is Sunset Shimmer. Of her I confess my knowledge is dimmer.”

“So is the meeting about to start?” Sweetie Belle squeaked. “What’s going to happen?”

Sunset Shimmer spun around and looked at where they were standing. No—she looked at them. Apple Bloom stared wide-eyed into the shocked face of Sunset Shimmer, who had a red crystal pinned to her chest. Then her eyes narrowed, turned predatory, cruel. The corners of her mouth turned up as sharp as dragon teeth.

She turned around. “Well, shall we start the meeting then? Somepony will just have to fill in Nute later. I can do it if no pony minds.”

“W-What just happened?” Sweetie Belle trembled.

Zecora looked stunned. “Surely it is a coincidence. Otherwise it makes no sense. In the past we cannot be touched by the hoof of causality.”

“Any filly knows if you can see them then they can see you,” Apple Bloom said. “Closing your eyes don’t help! We got to get out of here!”

Sunset Shimmer’s horn glowed, and the doorway behind them slammed shut.

“It was drafty,” she explained, smiling at the other ponies.

“Why’s she doing this?” Scootaloo whispered. “She can hear us?”

“Sunset Shimmer is fat and ugly!” Sweetie Belle said loudly. Sunset Shimmer didn’t react, and neither did any of the other knights.

Zecora breathed. “Perhaps it is all mere chance. What knowledge could be gained from our existence?”

“That time travel works?” Apple Bloom said.

“To order,” Frankie Knight said. “Efforts to purify the Everfree Forest of the chaos are continuing slowly. Ludmilla—“

“I have a question,” Sunset Shimmer said in a sing-song voice. “Why does Ludmilla get the Elements of Equilibrium? I mean, it hardly seems fair.”

Ludmilla stirred. “Because I’m the only one with friends.”

“We’re friends,” Sunset Shimmer pouted. “I just think it’s strange that Ludmilla goes off on all these extra special adventures to save the world while the rest of us go on only normal adventures to save the world.

“I think you’re right,” Phila said, way too loudly. “It’s a load of horse apples. I’ll stitch a dress to vent my displeasure!”

“It’s a matter of organization,” Irene said smartly. “Ludmilla’s schedule must be looser than the rest of ours.”

“It isn’t,” Ludmilla growled. “I have students to teach.”

Frankie Knight made a noise. Ludmilla faced her. “Well?” she snapped. “And?”

Frankie Knight leaned back, looking relaxed. “If you think ponies can be taught.” She managed, without saying it, to convey the rest of the message: then you’re a fool. And in that unsaid fragment Frankie Knight packed more derision than even Diamond Tiara could.

“Students have no talent for organization,” Irene said. “And they give me ulcers.”

Apple Bloom frowned; something tickled the back of her mind. Apple cider, dresses, organization, party ponies, and as for awesomeness, well, there was nothing cooler than the idea of a bunch of old economist ponies assembled as an order to battle evil. Or loyalty, the absent Nute Wicksell. It was like a riddle. The only thing missing was kindness or butterflies.

“I love teaching new students,” Sunset Shimmer said. “They’re so eager to learn!”

Ah. From the way the other ponies looked at her, even Frankie Knight, Sunset Shimmer was the missing piece of the puzzle.

But there was no kindness here, none at all, just a false smile and a simpering voice. All the elements, they were perverted. Apples to lose yourself in, dresses for battle, and Frankie Knight didn’t seem fun.

This is what happened to ponies, Apple Bloom didn’t quite think, when they didn’t have a good Fluttershy.

“We could teach,” Cecilia said uncertainly.

“I think that’s a grand idea.” Sunset Shimmer smiled at Cecilia. “I think Cecilia should be in charge of the Knights of Economics.”

“Why do you think that?” Frankie Knight said while Cecilia spluttered.

Ludmilla pushed away from the table, never letting go of her sack that contained the Elements of Harmony. Apple Bloom noticed how Sunset Shimmer’s eyes followed the sack. “I have no interest in this squabbling. Some of us have work to do. The Smooze’s cage must be maintained. If even a single bit of ooze gets through….”

Ludmilla’s horn glowed, and the door opened.

“We should go,” Apple Bloom said. “Let’s get out of here!”

“Oh, you can go,” Sunset Shimmer said, looking at Ludmilla. “I’m sure you’ll do a great job containing this. Good luck!”

Ludmilla snorted and walked out.

“She meant us,” Apple Bloom said urgently.

“Just a moment,” Zecora whispered. “I must see what she will foment.”

“Now,” Sunset Shimmer said, turning back to the other knights. “I just think the pony in charge of the Knights of Economics ought to be the best economist among us.” Then her horn glowed green, and something in front of her flashed red. The ground began to shake—Frankie Knight reached for her spear—

"Joking, joking," Sunset Shimmer laughed. "Frankie, you're no fun."

The other knights were looking at her, their hoofs on their weapons. Sunset Shimmer was laughing quietly, as if at some private joke.

"We really gotta go," Apple Bloom said.

Zecora's eyes were wide. "I do agree. Now is the time to flee."

"Bye," Sunset Shimmer chuckled. Apple Bloom shivered. Finally, they left.

“Must be nice to have a time machine,” Sweetie Belle said as they bounced after Zecora away from the castle.

“Maybe you shouldn’t use it in here, though,” Apple Bloom said.

Zecora nodded. “It may be the reason that Sunset Shimmer saw us is due to the interference from the Chaos Forest.

“I’m confused,” Scootaloo said as they reached the upturned cauldron. “Why did we do all that? What was the point? What did we learn?”

Zecora righted the cauldron and produced more flasks from her saddlebag. In a short time she had the contents of the cauldron green and bubbling. They all jumped in while Zecora finished her preparations.

“I am not sure,” Zecora said. “I can only hope it was not a bore.”

She jumped into the cauldron with them, and they returned to their own time.

Zecora led them to the end of the Everfree Forest, leading to Ponyville.

“The beginning of the Everfree Forest, you mean,” Scootaloo said.

“Who’re you talking to?” Sweetie Belle asked.

Scootaloo shrugged. “Who do you think Sunset Shimmer was talking to?”

Apple Bloom decided to ignore her friend’s apparent newfound ability to speak to the narrator. Instead she looked at Zecora, whose gold hoops jangled as she walked.

“We came all this way, and we don’t have anything to impress our sis—uh, Applejack, Rarity, and Rainbow Dash. Please, what is the meaning of the story of Sunset Shimmer?”

“Why couldn’t they work together?” Sweetie Belle said.

“Why were they all so selfish?” Scootaloo asked.

Zecora thought about it. “Studying the science of friendship brings great clarity. But true mastery suggests a duality. To know theory and practice is a great rarity.”

“It rhymed three times,” Apple Bloom gasped.

“It’s a trick!” Scootaloo said. “Somepony stole Zecora’s body!”

Zecora shook her head, shaking from silent laughter. “No, little ponies, I am no phony. In zebra society rhyming is a matter of great propriety. Couplets are for everyday conversation, but for more severe matters our rhymes we need not ration. The order that sent me here built up from a rhyme that lasted nearly a year!”

“Zebra society sounds really impractical,” Sweetie Belle said. “Um, tee-hee!”

Zecora smiled. “Know this, kind beauty, that a zebra’s name implies a duty. My name is Zecora. It means one who shows kindness to flora.”

“What kind of duty is that?” Apple Bloom said, preemptively defensive of her family’s orchard.

“Economists worry about that which cannot be heard, moving us from the first-best to the second to the third. A tree that falls in a forest when no pony is around, does it make a sound?”

“Yes,” Apple Bloom said just as Sweetie Belle said, “No.”

“Furthermore, logic states that that which makes no sound cannot not be heard. Perhaps it seems a bit absurd.”

“Not at all,” Scootaloo said, who sometimes did the monthly puzzles with Rainbow Dash.[4]

[4]False assertions yield true statements. Logic….

“Who will care for those who cannot call, who cannot even be ignored by all? Guard that pony, for she is precious, even if she is sometimes obnoxious.”

And with that they walked out of the Everfree Forest. Blinking in the light, it took a moment for Granny Smith, Big Macintosh, and two dozen other ponies from Ponyville to come into focus.

“Apple Bloom!” Granny crawked. “Where have you been?”

“In the Everfree Forest hunting dragons with Zecora,” Apple Bloom said, gesturing at the zebra. She and the other fillies hopped over to Big Macintosh, who was a lot less frightening than an old mare with a wooden cane and bad eyesight.

Zecora held up one forehoof off the ground as she faced the Ponyvillians. No pony said anything. Then, with a smile and a toss of her head, Zecora returned to the Everfree Forest.

“Don’t be mad,” Apple Bloom said. “She taught us cool stuff.” Next Chapter: A Long Conversation About Privilege Estimated time remaining: 44 Minutes