It had snowed again in Canterlot in the intervening hours since our arrival. The street sweepers were out in force as Twilight, Spike, Pinkie, and I traipsed through the less ritzy residential section of the capital city’s middle tier. Above us, leaden clouds scudded sullenly across the sky, threatening to dump their wintry payloads at even the slightest errant brush of a pegasus feather.

I could only spare enough attention to my surroundings to follow along without stumbling into anything. My mind was too busy wrestling with an intractable problem surrounding the missing member of our party.

Faran wasn’t joining us for this little outing. After she and Silverclaw had made their report to the Princess, my irascible nurse had decided that she needed to lay down for a while to recover from whatever emotional hell she’d been through as a result of my earlier “harmonic surge,” as Silverclaw had called it.

The fact that a mystery stallion had joined in with my mystery woman for the second Harmony Song during the exam still occupied my mind in the immediate aftermath. From her reaction, it was clear that Faran knew him, and that he was associated with some painful event in her past. That was all I could figure out about him on my own. Given Faran’s mental state, though, I doubted that she’d be willing to tell anyone for the time being.

And that assumed that she’d ever be willing to divulge anything about him. My stomach churned at the thought. For some reason that I couldn’t fathom, Faran keeping secrets bothered me. After all, she was at best an acquaintance. I wasn’t emotionally invested in her happiness. And yet, I had offered her a comforting gesture when she’d started showing signs of emotional distress during the final portion of the exam.

Why did her mental anguish affect me so? Why did it feel like I was helplessly watching a loved one struggling with her inner demons because her pride demanded that she handle it on her own?

I had no answers. But as frustrating as the situation was, I eventually decided to put it aside for the time being and focus on the purpose of our little outing. The only thing Twilight had revealed about our initial destination was that we were going to see a mare named Minuette. I vaguely recalled that Twilight had mentioned her during our lunch with Lyra and Raindrops the day before. As luck would have it, Pinkie already knew her pretty well, because she and some of Twilight’s other Canterlot friends occasionally came to Ponyville to visit Lyra.

It also turned out that Twilight was completely unaware of this, much to Pinkie’s dismay and my surprise. The incredulous look on Pinkie’s muzzle, in fact, was very reminiscent of the one Rainbow had worn when I’d confessed my ignorance of the Wonderbolts.

“I’m sorry, Pinkie,” Twilight said as we came to a halt in front of a particular residence. “I wasn’t as close to my Canterlot friends as I am with you girls, so I kind of lost contact with most of them when I moved to Ponyville. I always figured that they’d moved on, so I never bothered to ask Lyra about them.”

A pause. Twilight’s next words were tinged with remorse and more than a little self-abasement. “Between that, and the way I’d abandoned them in my rush to save the world from eternal night all by myself, I just thought they’d suffered so much because of me that maybe it was better if I just let them be. I didn’t want to reopen any old wounds that I’d caused.”

Pinkie, being Pinkie, seemed unperturbed by this. “Don’t worry about it, you silly filly!” she chirped, “That’s all in the past. Now’s your chance to wow them with all the amazing stuff you’ve learned about friendship since then! I’m sure they’ll forgive you if you just give them a chance!”

Twilight offered her friend a wan smile. “Thanks, Pinkie. If there’s anypony who can help me make amends with my old friends, it’s you.” The two mares then shared a friendly nuzzle.

I did my best to hide a smile at the display as I looked over the facade of the Victorian-style townhouse before us. The exterior walls had been painted a purplish shade of blue, and the head of each lavender window frame had been embossed with a stylized hourglass. A small set of white stone steps led up to an hourglass-shaped door, above which a rather substantial decorative hourglass kept constant vigil.

“Gee, d’ya think whoever lives here might be a fan of timepieces?” I quipped sardonically.

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Be nice. That’s actually Minuette’s cutie mark. Most ponies in this part of Canterlot decorate their homes in this fashion.”

To emphasize her point, Twilight waved a hoof at a house on the other side of the street. A caramel-colored unicorn stallion with a silvery mane and tail was just emerging from the open doorway. Sure enough, his cutie mark ‒ a pair of ivory dice showing boxcars ‒ perfectly matched the exterior decorations on his home.

Well, craps.

“I… see your point,” I murmured, suitably chastened.

As we stood on the threshold of Minuette’s residence, Twilight raised a hoof to knock, only to pause mid-motion as a look of trepidation crossed her features. As Twilight stood there, paralyzed by anxiety with one foreleg hanging in the air, I came to a decision.

“You wanna knock, or shall I?”

No response.

I let out a long, exasperated sigh, I reached out, and rapped firmly on the door in the classic “shave and a haircut” call-and-response pattern.

Strangely enough, Pinkie rather vocally supplied the “two bits” response just as I was beating it out on the door. I shot her a dirty look in response, to which she merely responded with the same cheerful smile she always seemed to wear.

The resultant rolling of my eyes was cut short by the sound of the door opening. What lay inside was not quite what I was expecting, given what I’d been told of Minuette’s personality. While the place was fixed up with lighting, none of it seemed to be on at the moment, and the shaft of sunlight through the door was the only thing piercing the gloom. A smattering of cobwebs suggested that the occupant dusted infrequently.

And yet, from what I could tell, the residence was gaily decorated in bright colors that probably looked even brighter under a stronger light. The space was filled with modest, yet stylish furniture, and the theme of antiquated timepieces from the outside continued inside.

I had no time to ponder the unusual duality, however, as the doorway was quickly occupied by a light blue blur that resolved itself into a unicorn mare of comparable size to Twilight. Her two-tone blue and white mane and tail were styled in a manner that provoked a subconscious desire to brush my teeth, despite having already done so several hours earlier during my morning ablutions. A quick glance at her flank confirmed what Twilight had said about her cutie mark being the basis for her choice of home decor.

Her bright blue eyes quickly focused on my unicorn companion, lighting up in a combination of surprise and excitement. “Twilight Sparkle, you old so-and-so!” she cheerfully exclaimed as a girlish giggle escaped her. “What are you doing here?”

Twilight opened her mouth to reply, but the brightly colored mare had already moved on to another member of our party. “Hey, Spike!” she cooed warmly at the pint-sized dragon in question.

I was quickly getting the impression that this pony was almost as excitable as Pinkie Pie.

Speaking of Pinkie, the unicorn’s attention had already turned to her. “Hey, Pinkie Pie!” she squealed.

“Hey, Minuette!” Pinkie chirped back. She then engulfed the other mare in a bone-crushing hug that was just as enthusiastically returned.

As they disengaged from the warm embrace, Minuette at last set her sights on me. “Woah,” she murmured as she craned her neck a bit upwards to meet my gaze, her voice betraying a slight sense of awe. She gave me a quick once-over before shooting a sidelong gaze at Twilight. “Say, Twi. Who’s Mister Tall, Bipedal, and Handsome?”

“H-handsome?” Twilight and I replied in unison. I shot Minuette a skeptical look at the notion that an alien pony could find me handsome, while Twilight was reduced to stammering and blushing.

Unfortunately for me, it seemed as if Minuette had misinterpreted our reaction, because her eyes lit up in excitement once more, as her face morphed into an arch expression.

“Twilight, you dog! Why didn’t you tell me you had finally found a special somepony?”

If I had been drinking something at that moment, I would’ve done a spit take.

“What?” Twilight sputtered. “No! I-I mean, it’s nothing like that! The princesses merely asked me to look after him for the time being while he’s stranded here on Equis.”

Minuette’s ears pricked up at that. “Wait, so he’s really an alien? I thought that was just wild speculation from the gossip column in the Canterlot Times.”

“No, it’s all true,” Twilight replied with a shake of her head. She then shot me a dirty look.

Adopting an innocent expression, I silently mouthed, What?

Our impending debate about my nighttime activities was cut short by a loud gasp from Minuette as her excitement completely took over her face. “Oh, wow, Twilight!” she exclaimed, “I didn’t realize that your taste in coltfriends was that exotic!” A teasing glint shone in her eyes at her last words.

“Oh, for Celestia’s sake, Minuette!” Twilight groaned. “Derren’s not my coltfriend! Just because we’re living togeth‒”

“You’re living together?” I could’ve sworn I heard a sound like a squeaky toy being languidly chewed on emanate from Minuette as Twilight continued to make matters worse for herself. “Wow, you sure move fast, eh, Twilight?” She punctuated her words with a salacious waggle of her eyebrows.

Twilight buried her face in a hoof, blushing furiously.

“Twilight,” I admonished, “One of the most important life lessons my father taught me was what he called The First Rule of Holes: if you find yourself in one, stop digging.”

I then fixed Minuette with a level stare. “I promise you, Minuette,” I said, holding up my hand like I was swearing in to give testimony in court, “There’s nothing going on between Twilight and I. She’s just my landlord at the moment. We might be heading towards something resembling friendship later, but it’s a little too soon to say at this point.”

Minuette blew me a playful raspberry. “Oh, sure. Just throw a wet blanket on a poor mare’s dreams of happiness for her friends.” For good measure, she threw in the best puppy dog eyes she could manage, though the effect was slightly marred by the sheepish grin she was wearing.

Needless to say, I was unmoved. Seeing my deadpan expression not dented in the slightest by her adorable assault, she let out a theatrical sigh.

“I suppose you’re right,” she reluctantly admitted. She then looked at Twilight with a contrite expression. “I’m sorry, Twilight. I just couldn’t resist. You know I only want what’s best for one of my best friends.”

Twilight visibly composed herself. “It’s alright, Minuette.” She paused, and a goofy grin wormed its way onto her muzzle. “I almost forgot that you were kind of the matchmaker in our group.”

“Yeah, I kind of was,” Minuette giggled. Her expression took a sudden serious turn. “I stopped for a while, though, when my meddling backfired spectacularly on Lyra. I’m just glad she’s so resilient when it comes to the slings and arrows of love.”

“She must’ve found the strength to move on with her life in the interim,” Twilight said with a sad smile. “I think the time she spent away from the machinations of Canterlot nobility did her a lot of good. She’s certainly a lot happier in Ponyville.” An odd expression settled on Twilight’s features. “I know that I’ve been a lot happier since moving there.”

“Must be something in the water,” I quipped, earning both a derisive snort and an eye roll from Twilight, who then slowly turned her gaze to her old friend once more. A wan smile dawned on her lips in response to Minuette’s ear-splitting grin.

“I-It’s good to see you again after all this time, Minuette,” she said, one hoof digging anxiously into the cement steps.

Minuette’s ever-present smile developed a gentle warmth to it. “It has been a long while, hasn’t it, Twily?” she said, suddenly rushing forward to nuzzle her friend.

Twilight slowly draped a foreleg across Minuette’s withers as she returned the affectionate gesture. I could’ve sworn I saw tears glinting in the eyes of both mares as they held one another.

“So, what brings you back to Canterlot after all this time?” Minuette asked animatedly as they broke the embrace. “I mean, we’ve seen you in Ponyville from time to time, but you’re always busy with running the library there and all your adventures with your Ponyville friends. We just sort of figured that you’d moved on.”

Twilight let out a rueful chuckle. “I’d figured the same thing about you girls. I have several reasons for why I came, and one of them was to get in touch with all of you again. If you could help me find Lemon Hearts, Twinkleshine, and Moondancer, I’d be glad to tell you all more about it.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Minuette replied cheerfully. She turned to face Pinkie. “Right, Pinkie?”

“Yepperoonie, out by noonie!” came Pinkie’s enthusiastic reply.

“Then, let’s fly!” Minuette exclaimed. She leapt into the air, only to come back down with a slight grunt at the bottom of the steps. “Well, we could if we had wings, or a pegasus to carry us,” she amended sheepishly. She looked at me hopefully. “I don’t suppose you could flap your hands and get us airborne?”

I blew out a playful raspberry at her. “Nope. We’re all earthbound for this trip.”

“Pity,” she playfully pouted, “I was hoping we could take the scenic route.”

Our group laughter filled the narrow streets as Minuette led us back out into the beating heart of Equestria’s capital city.

“I’m afraid we didn’t have any luck,” Twilight reported to our expanded party an hour later. We were sitting around a circular table inside a pretty snazzy-looking donut shop called “Donut Joe’s” in the middle of Canterlot’s commercial district. Pinkie had managed to retrieve Lemon Hearts, while Minuette did the same with Twinkleshine. Twilight, Spike, and I had decided to go after Moondancer.

“Either Moondancer wasn’t answering the door,” I supplied, “or the contact information we found wasn’t up-to-date. Whichever it was, we couldn’t find her.”

“That’s too bad,” Lemon Hearts replied, her rose-colored eyes filled with concern. “It’s been a while since I last saw her.” She was sitting with Twinkleshine and Minuette across the table from Twilight and I, while Pinkie and Spike were ordering donuts for our table.

“I don’t suppose either of you might know where she lives, do you?” I asked the two newest mares in our entourage.

Lemon Hearts shook her head sadly, causing her candy-blue mane to sway back and forth like a pendulum with clinical depression. “I’m afraid I can’t help you there.”

“Really?” I asked, unable to mask my disappointment. “That’s too bad.”

Thankfully, Twinkleshine seemed to have an answer.

“I think she moved out by the stadium,” she said. “I can’t say for sure, though. We kind of lost touch with her after that party she threw for the Summer Sun Celebration that Twilight was too busy to attend.”

Twilight winced and adopted a guilty expression at those words. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why: that would’ve been the day Twilight was sent to Ponyville to meet her fellow Element Bearers and save Equestria for the first time.

“Umm, no offense, Twilight,” Twinkleshine added lamely.

“None taken,” Twilight replied, though she still looked like she’d had salt rubbed in the wound.

“So, you haven’t heard hide or hair from her in almost two years?” I queried, seeking confirmation of my suspicions. I received a nod from Twinkleshine in response.

“Isn’t that kind of a long time to go without a response?” I pressed.

“We tried inviting her out a few times after Twilight left for Ponyville,” Minuette admitted sadly.

Seeing her expression reminded me of something. I’d only known her for the better part of an hour, but there was one thing I noticed about Minuette. The mare was full of joie de vivre, so much so that few things ever got her down for more than a few moments. She was very much like Pinkie in that regard. The difference was that Pinkie, it seemed, could be prone to some unsettling mood swings if she thought she’d failed as a friend ‒ I’d seen the evidence first hand on the train ride up. Minuette, on the other hand, seemed to be made of sterner stuff.

I found it to be a refreshing surprise.

I was pulled from my reverie by the voice of the mare in question. “Unfortunately, she was always busy with her studies, so we eventually just stopped asking.”

Twilight slumped down until her head was resting on the table, closing her eyes mournfully. “This is all my fault,” she moaned.

Twinkleshine cocked her head at Twilight, the hot pink locks of her curly mane framing a quizzical expression. “How do you figure that, Twilight?”

Twilight’s head didn’t move, but her ears were flat against her skull and her eyes were full of guilt as she met Twinkleshine’s gaze. “I blew off Moondancer’s party because I was obsessed with finding out about the prophecy of Nightmare Moon’s return. If she’s become such a recluse as a result, then it’s clear that my careless act hurt her deeply.” A deep sigh escaped her as she finally disengaged from her embrace of the table.

“That’s actually why I wanted to meet with all of you today.” She passed a glance at each of her friends across the table, each time meeting a face full of concern. “I took your friendship for granted as a filly, and I’m sure it’s caused you all as much pain as it did for Moondancer. I wanted to apologize for the way I’ve acted all these years. I hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me.”

An awkward silence descended upon our table, hanging thickly in the air for a long moment. It was shattered by a round of raucous laughter from the three mares facing us.

“Oh, Twilight, you silly filly,” Minuette sputtered through sporadic chuckles, “Sure, it might have stung a little bit when you ran off to Ponyville without saying goodbye.”

“It’s not like we weren’t used to that from you, though,” Lemon Hearts added, gently laying a lemon yellow hoof on one of Twilight’s.

“Yeah, we didn’t take it personally,” Twinkleshine finished for them, mirroring Lemon Hearts’ action with one of her own powder white hooves.

“It still doesn’t make it right for me to have been so cavalier with your feelings,” Twilight rebutted. She then offered her old friends a wan smile. “I’m glad you’re willing to forgive and forget, though.”

“Of course, Twilight!” Minuette chirped. “After all, isn’t that what friends are for?”

The four friends, thus reunited, shared a heartfelt embrace. As they disengaged, I saw a genuine smile on Twilight’s face, and not a single pony eye at the table was dry. I looked on impassively, but not without registering the warmth reflected from their renewed friendship. After all, what Myrmidon, or Dolopian, or warrior of fierce Ulysses, could keep from warm and fuzzy feelings in hearing such a story of friendship?

I shook my head. This was not the time to butcher the classics ‒ not when I’d just caught Pinkie Pie and Spike out of the corner of my eye. As I focused on their approach to our table, I spotted a veritable pyramid of donuts situated on a plate that was precariously balanced on the pink mare’s back. Twilight must’ve noticed my shift in attention, because she too followed my eyes to watch her friend’s arrival.

“You were right, Pinkie,” she said, offering a warm smile to the pony in question. “I shouldn’t have worried so much.”

Pinkie’s ever-present smile grew. “See, Twilight? Good friends will always forgive you, even if they don’t think you have anything to apologize for!” Suddenly, her eyes bulged, and she gave a loud gasp. “Does that mean you’ve learned something about friendship? Are you going to write a letter to Princess Celestia about it?”

Just then, a lightbulb seemed to go off in her head, and her babbling grew even faster. “Ooh! Maybe Derren learned something about friendship, and he can write to Princess Celestia about it! Wait, Derren’s still learning how to write in Equestrian. Maybe Spike should write the letter for him, or maybe the princess can cast a translation spell to read what Derren writes, unless she already knows how to read his writing, but what if he has sloppy hoofwr‒”

I stared in awe as Pinkie’s babbling was suddenly cut off, accompanied by an unexpected zipping noise. Though I had been reaching out to clamp down on her muzzle with my hand, it seemed that Twilight had come up with her own method of stopping Pinkie’s verbal diarrhea. Namely, one that involved an almost cartoonish zipper-over-the-mouth effect. I wasn’t sure it was as effective as Twilight had hoped, however, because the pink mare continued to mumble unintelligibly against the restraint on her mouth.

“I think you’ve made your point, Pinkie,” Twilight said with a crooked smile. I stared in bemusement as the zipper disappeared from Pinkie’s mouth with a puff of pink smoke.

“I suppose I did,” Pinkie said, sporting a sheepish grin.

That produced a round of polite laughter from the assembled mares.

“Well,” Minuette said once everyone had gotten ahold of themselves, “I’d like to suggest that we dig into this delectable display of donuty delights, and then go out to the stadium to see if Moondancer is there.”

Twilight nodded. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

“I dunno,” I interjected. “I feel like I’d get diabetes from all this sugar.”

“You’re supposed to share the donuts, Derren,” Twinkleshine chided with a deadpan expression.

“I know that,” I replied indignantly. “But even thinking of just my share has my pancreas curling up in a fetal position and whimpering pitifully.”

Twilight snorted derisively. “Just eat the donuts, Derren,” she said, jabbing me playfully with a hoof.

“Oh, fine,” I replied melodramatically. “Have it your way.”

That sparked an even bigger outburst of laughter from everyone at the table, myself included.

“You know,” I mused as we made our way through the streets of downtown Canterlot, “This would be a lot easier if Equestria had phones.”

“Phones?” Lemon Hearts queried from her position behind me. Twilight and her old friends had surrounded me when we emerged from Donut Joe’s to begin our trek to the outskirts of Canterlot. Minuette and Pinkie formed the vanguard of our little entourage. It was the first time I found myself in the unenviable position of watching Pinkie from behind as she engaged in her usual method of getting around, and with the way her tail reached the crest of each bounce a second after the rest of her, hanging in the air just that much longer…

Needless to say, I quickly found myself wishing for brain bleach. Maybe I should see if Twilight knows a selective mind wipe spell...

Meanwhile, Twilight and Twinkleshine were flanking me on either side, with Spike in his usual perch on Twilight’s back. It was as if they had formed some unspoken agreement to shield me from wandering eyes.

Not that I needed such “protection.” Most of the citizenry seemed content to ignore the alien monkey in their midst, as if some intangible energy field had convinced them that I was someone else’s problem. I wasn’t too surprised by the lack of a reaction. As the capital city of Equis’ leading military, cultural, and economic power, Canterlot was probably home to almost every variety of sapient species on the planet. If anything, it was the self-important, condescending looks that I was receiving from the more conspicuously well-to-do residents that bothered me most.

Up ahead, I noticed that Pinkie and Minuette ‒ who up to that point had been happily chattering with each other about whatever subject came to mind ‒ had halted their discussion, and looked at me to see how I would respond to Lemon Hearts’ innocent question. Twilight and Twinkleshine were doing the same in their peripheral vision.

“What are ‘phones?’” Lemon Hearts repeated.

We stopped at the side of the street, and I turned to address her. “It’s a human technology that allows us to talk to one another over long distances.” I raised an eyebrow quizzically at her. “I don’t suppose you’ve ever taken a pair of tin cans, connected them with string, and used them to talk to one another, have you?”

She nodded. “We did a science experiment of that sort when we were yearlings.”

“Yearlings?”

“That’s what we call teenage ponies,” Minuette cheerfully supplied.

“Ah,” I grunted. “At any rate, that’s the basic principle behind a telephone, except that instead of vibrating string, we use specially designed electronic circuits to translate sound into electric pulses that go along conductive wire to the other end, where the pulses get translated back into sound.”

“You have that much control over electricity? What else can you do with it? This is so exciting!”

Twilight’s outburst drew my attention sharply to her. A scroll and quill were floating beside her, tinged in the same raspberry glow as her horn, and she was listening with the giddiness of a mad scientist as the quill flew across the scroll.

With barely a pause to roll my eyes, I addressed her question. “Actually, a lot of our technology is based on the controlled generation and transmission of electric power. It’s enabled a lot of conveniences in our daily lives that don’t exist here in Equestria, from what I’ve seen. But it’s also a weak point in our society. If any one of our cities suddenly found itself without power for an extended period of time, we’d be pretty screwed.”

I turned back to Lemon Hearts. ”Anyway, we’ve had telephones, in one form or another, for a little less than a century and a half. In that time, the technology has improved to the point where we can carry around little pocket-sized versions that are powered by rechargeable chemical batteries and don’t need a physical connection to transmit and receive signals. They’ve even gotten good enough that you can play games on them, among other things.”

“Ah,” came Twinkleshine’s deadpan voice. “Is that what you meant when you told us that ‘human children play with more sophisticated toys?’”

My neck craned in her direction so fast, I had a momentary fear of whiplash. The look on Twinkleshine’s face was just as unamused as her tone. “Wh‒ How did you…?”

My voice trailed off as comprehension dawned. Oh shit, she was there when I made an ass of myself!

“I was right behind you, remember?” she said, as if in confirmation of my panicked thoughts.

I looked at her again as if I were seeing her for the first time. “I didn’t know. I thought you looked vaguely familiar when we met at the donut shop, but I didn’t place it until just now.” I stared intensely at her for a moment, puzzling over the new information, and something struck me about her. “So, why were you part of the group giving me the tour?”

“I’m an astronomer,” she said, turning to bring her flank into view. Three light blue stars, barely distinguishable from the white fur surrounding them, adorned the distinctly equine expanse of her thigh. “I’ve always had a fascination with the stars, and my research helps ponies understand and appreciate the beauty of the night sky. When I discovered that it was my special talent, I knew I had to apply for a job with the institute as soon as I graduated from Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns.”

“Sounds like your dreams came true,” I mused, feeling a warm smile coming on. It vanished in a moment of sobriety, however. “Though I doubt your dreams included having your world’s technological prowess denigrated by an alien ape,” I amended ruefully, idly inspecting my glasses for specks of dirt and fingerprints.

The corners of Twinkleshine’s mouth quirked upwards wryly. “No, I suppose they didn’t.”

“At any rate, I shouldn’t have gone off on you and the others at the Institute like that,” I admitted. “I… wasn’t exactly in the best frame of mind, and… Solid Gear?” I looked at Twinkleshine imploringly, and she nodded in confirmation. “Anyway, Solid Gear’s presentation of the difference engine was basically the proverbial straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back.”

Twinkleshine’s gaze scanned over me, as if she were trying to gauge the sincerity of my words. “Well, it’s certainly not the sort of apology I was expecting,” she eventually said. A moment later, she gave the pony equivalent of a shrug.

“I suppose it will do. Consider yourself forgiven, Derren.” A wide grin split her muzzle, and she extended a hoof towards me.

“Thanks,” I replied lamely, taking her hoof and shaking it.

“Don’t thank me just yet,” she replied, a slight smirk on her features. “You still have the other members of the faculty and staff that were on that tour to make amends with.”

“Don’t remind me,” I replied with a grimace that had a hint of steel to it. “Princess Luna has been making the arrangements for the last week.”

“Do you have any idea what you’re going to do for this public apology?” Lemon Hearts asked, concern evident in her voice.

I thought hard for a long moment. My face lit up as inspiration struck. “I think I just might.” I shifted my gaze between Twilight and Twinkleshine. “I don’t suppose either of you girls might be able to help me to get my hands on a large quantity of dominoes, do you?”

“Umm… Maybe?” Twilight’s voice was uncertain.

“Just how large a supply are we talking?” Twinkleshine inquired.

“Umm…” I winced at the answer I came up with. “Probably a few thousand?”

“What?” the two mares cried in disbelieving unison.

Yep. Knew that’d be a sticking point.

“It’s for a visual aid,” I said, holding up my hands in a placating gesture. “One of my professors when I was in college did a similar demonstration.”

“Ah, I see,” Twilight murmured.

“Anyway,” I said, “The Institute showed me some of the stuff they’d been working on, and I figured it’d only be fair if I returned the favor by sharing some of Earth’s scientific knowledge. Y’know, like we were originally supposed to do.”

“Oh,” Twinkleshine replied, wearing a suitably sheepish expression.

“I’ll see if Princess Celestia would be willing to help me scrounge up the dominoes,” Twilight offered.

I nodded in appreciation. “Thank you, Twilight. Now, there’s one more thing I’d like to be certain of if this is going to go well. Twinkleshine,” I said in the most diplomatic tone I could muster, “I’d like to ascertain the state of mathematical knowledge in Equestria. Specifically, binary logic. Do you know who would be the best person to talk to about that?”

“Oh, that’d be Fractal Space, the head of the Advanced Mathematics department,” she replied with a demure smile. “I’ve sat in a few interdepartmental faculty meetings with her on behalf of my boss, so I know her a little bit. I can see about arranging a meeting once we’ve found Moondancer.”

I returned her smile. “That’d be great.”

“Then let’s go find Moondancer!” Minuette and Pinkie cheered in unison.

With a murmur of agreement from the rest of the group, we set out once more into the streets of Canterlot.

It was a little past three in the afternoon when we approached Moondancer’s presumed current residence on the outskirts of Canterlot. The “stadium” that Twinkleshine had mentioned loomed large in the distance. Looking for all the world like an ancient Roman circus painted a pastel blue, it dominated the outer edge of the terrace upon which Middle Canterlot resided. Minuette had explained that the Wonderbolts ‒ the aerobatics team that Rainbow Dash was so enamored with ‒ often performed there, and that the performance area had a retractable floor that could be opened to the air below if a show called for it.

The stadium was the least of our concerns, however. We were more interested in the residence at the far end of the cul-de-sac that we had just entered. The building had become the unfortunate victim of long neglect, as if it in some way reflected the occupant’s mood. The front lawn had grown long in the tooth, weedy and unruly. Some of the masonry was chipped, and the faded purple paint on the woodwork was peeling badly.

Per previous agreement, the rest of us stood off to the side, out of sight, as Twilight approached the front door. She knocked three times, only to receive no answer. She waited a moment, then knocked thrice more. On the final knock, a small, roughly hoof-shaped section of the wood splintered with a sickening crunch, leaving Twilight’s hoof caught in the door momentarily.

Twilight barely had time to extricate herself from the ruins of the door before it was flung open violently. The cream-colored mare who answered was glaring daggers at Twilight, clearly not thrilled to be receiving visitors at this hour. Or any hour, really.

“Moondancer?” Twilight inquired, her voice half excited and half nervous.

“What do you want?” The mare demanded, her bushy red eyebrows furrowed in irritation.

It seemed we had finally cornered our elusive quarry.

Moondancer’s state seemed to mirror that of her dwelling. She wore a rather ratty purple turtleneck sweater, and her black-rimmed eyeglasses were crudely held together with white tape, as if she were consciously living the nerd stereotype. Her mane was a rat’s nest of flyaways that peaked in a manner that resembled an Asian-inspired topknot on a human. It had a similar coloration pattern to Twilight’s, though the actual colors used were different. Red, tinted slightly orange, had replaced the indigo that dominated Twilight’s mane hair, and while they both sported an identical two-toned stripe just to the left of the horn, Moondancer’s stripe consisted of two different shades of purple, as opposed to Twilight’s light purple-and-hot pink combination.

“I’m trying to study,” Moondancer grated icily.

Twilight’s friends seemed to take that as their cue to pop out of hiding. Minuette, currently serving as Spike’s mount, laid a hoof across Twilight’s withers. Pinkie had somehow managed to drape herself across the backs of both Twilight and Minuette, lying on her side and propping her head up with one hoof while shooting Moondancer one of her patented gigawatt smiles. On the other side, Twinkleshine stood between Twilight and Lemon Hearts. Given the cold welcome Twilight had received thus far, I remained hidden, so as not to exacerbate Moondancer’s bad mood.

“It’s us!” Twilight cheerfully announced, “Your old friends!”

With a loud growl of frustration, Moondancer retreated into her apartment, slamming the door in Twilight’s face.

If her laughter was any indication ‒ slightly tinged with sheepishness as it was ‒ Minuette seemed to take the rejection in stride. “That’s old Moondancer, alright!” she declared gaily. “She always did like her books.”

Minuette’s eyes sprang open in realization. “Hey!” she said to Twilight, “Kind of like you used to be, eh?”

Unlike her bubbly blue friend, however, Twilight sported a startled expression, ears drooping guiltily.

“Exactly how I used to be,” she said mournfully.

Author's Notes:

Don't worry about the donuts, Derren!

Also, Publius Vergilius Maro is probably rolling in his grave at Derren's internal reaction to Twilight reconciling with her Canterlot friends.