Don’t listen to anything the smiling social workers tell you; Equestria’s foster system sucks. I should know. Back when I was a foal, I thought it was because adults are cruel and the potential parents coming in didn’t like me. By the time I turned fourteen, I’d been shuffled around a dozen families, five foster homes and three orphanages. I figured I was just an eyesore, so I stopped caring.

Of course, I get it now. The system was designed to fail. Celestia made a bunch of royal decrees Goddess knows how long ago that were supposedly ‘fair’ and would give less capable families a chance to raise a foal. Let’s ignore the fact that those families didn’t have the financial or mental means to raise foals and ended up giving them back to the system in less than a year, either willingly when they realized their situation or by force when they were too dumb or naïve to understand.

At least I didn’t get picked up by one of those families that just wanted a nubile young filly or colt to play with. I heard some horror stories, and the looks I saw in some kids’ eyes have never left me.

My awareness of the realities of the system may be what drew me to Amethyst. I knew from the moment I first saw her that she’d seen something bad already. I still didn’t care much for myself at the time, but Amethyst?

She gave me something worth devoting myself to.

—Vinyl Scratch, Book of Shadows XLVIII

May 19, 1007

The social worker spoke again. Vinyl stared out the side of the wagon, letting the sounds of the Hoofington street drown out the stallion’s words. It’s not like she hadn’t heard the same spiel a thousand times already. An overcast sky threatened rain and the few ponies still on the streets hurried to find shelter. Vinyl absent-mindedly wondered if the downpour would start before they arrived. Might make things a little more interesting, at the very least.

The wagon rocked on the uneven dirt road. Vinyl turned her eyes forward to the closely spaced homes and townhouses. Though not new, they certainly weren’t the dilapidated ruins Vinyl had been around in the past two or three years. There was some comfort to be had in that, but she knew it to be a small reprieve. An orphanage was an orphanage. She’d been in enough by now to know they never changed on the inside.

The exterior is an entirely different matter. The wagon rolled to a stop before a four-story structure squeezed between a farrier’s shop and some lawyer’s office. Probably meant to be white, the whole building had aged into a dull grey. Even so, it appeared well-maintained; no cracks in the windows, no rotted or missing pieces of wood in the walls, gutters that served a purpose other than holding plants.

“So, what do you think?”

Vinyl glanced at the smiling social worker, an orange unicorn. She grunted, hoping he would take it as a sign of her approval and shut up.

“The headmistress is Miss Dry Eyes,” he continued in that merry way that had Vinyl grinding her teeth. “Why don’t we go introduce you and let you meet your new friends?”

Sure, new friends, to be had for four months tops before I get shuttled to the next place. Vinyl thought about the headphones in her pack but resisted the urge to take them out. They’d only gripe at her for being unfriendly – again. Better to wait until this jerk left and she could be alone in whatever room they offered her.

The stallion led her through the front door just as the first drops of rain fell. Vinyl considered pausing to let herself get wet. It would be fun, and it would annoy the social worker. Letting her new guardians know exactly what they were dealing with could be entertaining, but she instead let the door close behind her. Not now, not in the mood.

The lobby was as Vinyl expected; full of images of happy kids and posters displaying the joys of parenthood. The place was brightly decorated and well furnished. Vinyl turned a circle as the social worker went to knock on the office door. Nothing caught her eye, so she shuffled her way to the office. Another dull home.

Joy.

The door opened, revealing a dark brown mare with a green mane. She wore a pink sash wrapped about her neck and sported small square glasses. “Ah, you must be Mr. Sunny Smiles.”

“That’s me,” the stallion said with a grin. “Am I to suppose you are Miss Dry Eyes?”

“Indeed.” Dry Eyes looked to Vinyl, who made a point of not looking her way. “And you must be Vanilla von Scratchington.”

“Vinyl Scratch.” Vinyl ground her teeth together and absolutely refused to look at the mare.

“Of course, Vinyl. Whatever you say.”

We’ll call you whatever you want, so long as you behave and play nice. Vinyl kept her eyes on a nearby painting that featured a grassy meadow with a lone tree on a hill. Boring, but better than listening to the two adults drone on about the particulars of her arrival.

At least the paperwork had all been done ahead of time. That meant a shorter conversation before Mr. Smiles-Too-Much went on his frustratingly merry way. He reassured Vinyl that he really enjoyed her company on the long trip before his departure, though. Bucking two-faced liar.

“Come along, Vinyl.” Dry Eyes pushed open the door leading into the rest of the orphanage. “Let me show you around and introduce you to your new friends.”

Right. One meeting and we’ll be chums forever. Whoop-dee-bucking-doo.

The headmaster brought Vinyl all over the orphanage. The first floor play area wasn’t the smallest she’d ever seen, and its range of toys for the younger kids certainly impressed. It lacked in items that might interest a filly Vinyl’s age, but that came as no surprise as these places always favored the blank flanks. The second floor sported the learning center, nothing special to remark upon there, save that it seemed to be where the older foals hung out. Dry Eyes introduced her to the half-dozen other teenagers, most of whom were right around Vinyl’s age. She made a point of remembering their names for later, but otherwise showed little interest.

At last, the headmaster brought Vinyl up to the residential part of the orphanage. A full two floors were devoted to housing the foals and the three administrators. Dry Eyes led her up to the fourth floor while droning on about bedtimes and noise levels, but as they reached the top of the stairs the mare grew quiet. Noting this, Vinyl found herself paying closer attention.

Dry Eyes’ smile had faded, replaced with a look of worry. She paused in the middle of the hall and turned to Vinyl. “I would like things to be clear between us.”

Vinyl cocked an eyebrow and said nothing. She knew when some ridiculous, ‘you’ve got to have hope’ speech was on the way. She’d learned long ago that it was always better to shut up, nod a few times and let the ignorant adult get it out.

Dry Eyes heaved a long sigh, and the mare abruptly seemed a lot older. “I’ve been doing this for longer than you’ve been alive, Vinyl. In that time, I’ve come to understand what’s coming. I hope you like it here, I really do, but I know exactly what’s going through your mind right now.”

Wow, that’s a new one. Vinyl nodded and pretended to be understanding.

“And I’ve seen that look a thousand times.” Dry Eyes sat and shook her head. “You’ve been thrown all over Equestria. By this point you don’t think there’s any reason to get attached to anything here, because in all odds you’ll be gone in a few months. You won’t play nice, you don’t want to make friends, and you seriously doubt anypony will adopt you.”

Vinyl felt her jaw drop. She had suddenly become much more attentive.

“I’m not going to play word games with you, Vinyl. You’re fourteen and the system has done you no favors. If anything, it’s made your situation worse.” The headmaster set a hoof to Vinyl’s shoulder with a neutral expression on her face but concern in her eyes. “Nopony here has been through the system even half as long as you have. So I get it. You’re angry and you’re going to be distant. I promise not to pressure you into doing things you don’t want to.”

Vinyl stared up at her, mind reeling from this completely unorthodox behavior. Her lips opened and closed a few times before she finally managed to utter, “Uh… thanks. I guess?”

“You are welcome.” Dry Eyes offered a weak smile. “Now that that’s out of the way, we have a little problem that I hope you will be understanding of. You see, Vinyl, with you here the orphanage is now filled to capacity. That means there’s only one bed you can take.”

“That’s okay.” Vinyl shrugged the hoof off her shoulder. “I’ve had roommates before.”

“True, but they usually try to room you with a pony your age or older, yes?”

Vinyl nodded, not sure she liked where this was going.

“Well, I’m afraid the only space left is with a pony much, much younger than you.” Dry Eyes’ smile grew to give her an embarrassed manner. “Amethyst is only four.”

Vinyl’s eyes became like saucers. “I… uh… don’t do well with the young ones.”

“I understand, but I think the two of you will be okay together.”

“You just said you wouldn’t force me into doing something I didn’t want to.”

“And I intend to keep that promise,” Dry Eyes said swiftly. “For now, though, I need you to be cooperative. Give it a week, and if you can’t take it then I’ll try to see if somepony will trade places with you. Please, Vinyl, give it a try. I really think you would be a good match for Amethyst.”

Vinyl rolled her eyes. “Goddess, this stinks. Fine, but only because I don’t feel like arguing right now. One week won’t kill me… I hope.”

“I know, I know, it’s not what you had in mind, and I— Wait, you’ll do it?”

“That’s what I said.” Vinyl was tempted to smirk at Dry Eyes’ gaping, but managed to hold back and maintain her stony, disinterested demeanor. “You didn’t try to scratch my ears and give me some bullcrap about things getting better. After spending three days with Mr. Freaky-Grin, that’s a nice change. So yeah, I’ll put up with the baby for a few days, but you can bet your cutie mark I’ll be out of that room by next week.”

Dry Eyes sagged as a wan smile spread across her face. “Thank goodness. I was really hoping you wouldn’t fight me on the matter. Amethyst could really use a friend, so I thought—”

“Yeah, gonna stop you right there.” Vinyl turned her sight to the wall, crossing one foreleg in front of the other. “No chance I’m gonna be friends with anypony here, much less a foal ten years younger than me.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Dry Eyes grinned and resumed walking down the hall, gesturing for Vinyl to follow. “You might find that the two of you have a lot in common.”

“Right.” Vinyl eyed the doors, noting the signs marking one as Dry Eyes’ bedroom. Two more doors had signs indicating the names of the other two adults running the place. Vinyl made no attempt to memorize the names, her eyes skimming along the letters without taking in anything.

They stopped at the very next door, which raised Vinyl’s suspicions. “Why is she here?”

Dry Eyes cocked her head, hoof halfway to the door handle. “What do you mean?”

Vinyl gestured to the doors. “You’ve got her right next to you guys.”

“Oh, that.” The headmaster hesitated. “Amethyst has… problems. She’s a filly with a lot of needs, and it’s better to have one of us around to be there for her.”

Vinyl grimaced; now she liked this idea even less. She was a mare of her word, however, and made sure to keep a semblance of confidence in her expression. As Dry Eyes pushed the door open, Vinyl braced for the barrage. Would it be a bunch of crying? Screaming? Or excitability, which easily qualified as the worst possible thing.

“Amethyst? Somepony would like to meet you.”

Not a single expectation was met. Vinyl stepped into the typical messy room of a foal – in fact, just messy enough to be comfortable to her own sloppy sensibilities. A few toys littered the floor; in the corner was a makeshift art gallery of scribbled, colorful drawings taped to the walls; the bed on the right was a tangle of sheets. Messy, but not unreasonably so for a four-year-old.

Said four-year-old looked up from her current coloring project. “Hello, Miss Dry Eyes.” Then her gaze set upon Vinyl. The filly stood bolt upright and backed against the wall.

“Amethyst, this is Vinyl Scratch.” Dry Eyes patted Vinyl on the shoulder. “She’s going to be sharing your room.”

Quiet lingered over the ponies, giving Vinyl just enough time to look Amethyst over properly. Her overall summary: purple. With just one word, she had Amethyst’s description down. Then she noticed the tiny horn poking through the thick mane and amended her description to ‘purple unicorn.’

Amethyst’s big eyes were set upon Vinyl. “No.”

“Now, Amethyst,” Dry Eyes said with a tone both reassuring and lecturing, “I told you this might happen. We have no more beds. Somepony has to stay here.”

“No.” Amethyst stared at the floor. “She’s gonna say bad things.”

Vinyl’s eyebrows rose. Why would she do that? Granted, she wasn’t the nicest pony around, but…

“Vinyl will do nothing of the sort, will you, Vinyl?”

“Uh… no.”

Amethyst pouted.

“Vinyl will be different.” Dry Eyes glanced at Vinyl, her eyes a silent plea. Clearly she expected Vinyl to say something.

Exactly what that something was, Vinyl had no idea. She really wanted to put on her headphones about now. “I… er…” She looked to Amethyst, who wouldn’t meet her gaze. For reasons unknown, anger welled in Vinyl’s chest. She raised her head high and gave the filly a firm look. “Hey.”

Amethyst flinched, but looked at her anyway.

“I’m not gonna pick on you or bully you. I’ve been bullied myself a bit, so I know what it’s like. Got me?”

The filly cocked her head, eyebrows furrowed, then sat and looked at her hooves for several seconds before bringing her eyes back to Vinyl. “Umm… no.”

Vinyl promptly facehoofed. “Look, let’s just try this out, okay?”

“Please, Amethyst?” Dry Eyes nodded encouragingly. “Think about how nice it’ll be to have somepony here at night.”

Amethyst shuddered and cast a wary glance at the bed. “O-okay. I’ll try.”

“Wonderful! Thank you so much, Amethyst.” Dry Eyes broke into a grin so broad Vinyl thought her face might break. “I’ll let you two have some time to get acquainted. Remember, Vinyl, dinner will be served at six o’clock and it’s lights out at nine. In the meantime, feel free to explore and meet the others.”

Vinyl grunted her acceptance and dumped her pack on the remaining bed. She immediately began rummaging through it. After a short time, she procured her headphones and Walkcolt. As she sought out a certain cassette, she glanced over to see Amethyst watching her intently. “What’s up?”

“Miss Dry Eyes left.”

A glance at the closed door proved Amethyst’s claim true. “So?” Vinyl found the album she was after and raised it high with her magic.

Amethyst stared at the floorboards, one hoof tracing a circle. “Are you going to be mean to me now?”

Vinyl sighed upon realizing that she wouldn’t be getting to her musical daydreams as soon as she’d hoped. “Why would the other foals pick on you?”

Her new roommate chewed her lip and glanced aside. “Because mommy was a pegasus.”

The cassette nearly hit the floor before Vinyl remembered to catch it. She stared with wide eyes at the foal, paying particular attention now to the horn. A much better image of this foal’s past had made itself clear to her.

Amethyst pressed against the corner of the room again, a light whimper escaping her.

Feeling foalish, Vinyl struggled for some kind of response. “So… does everypony know?”

Amethyst’s nod encouraged Vinyl’s stomach to twist. She knew how things worked; every potential parent who came looking for a foal would be told this information. It was only illegal in a few major cities, but a mixed bloodline was still taboo. Amethyst would never be adopted. Vinyl was as sure of this as she was that the sun would rise in the morning. At least she had a chance of landing some permanently family, no matter how small of one. Amethyst, though, was doomed.

‘Problems,’ indeed.

Vinyl took a couple steps closer, but paused when Amethyst flinched away. “Hey, look at me.” She waited for Amethyst to do so, which took a considerable amount of time. “I’m not going to say bad things about you. You’ve done nothing to deserve it, okay?”

“B-but I’m a bad filly.”

“No, you’re not.” Vinyl scowled at the suggestion. “You’re just unlucky. Tell you what, if anypony gives you any trouble, you come to me.

“I’ll set them straight.”

“Vinyl, is there a reason you keep ending up here?”

A cotton swab soaked in a foul-smelling something-or-other pressed against the cut on Vinyl’s shoulder, forcing her to hiss at the sting. She made no other attempt to answer Ms. Woundsalt.

The mare sighed as she eyed Vinyl’s many bruises. “This is the third fight since you got here, and it hasn’t even been as many weeks. What in Equestria could be so worth fighting over?”

Vinyl kept her lips sealed and glared at the picture of flowers on the wall of the orphanage medicine room. She would offer no explanation. What good would it do?

“You can’t keep getting into fights like this,” Ms. Woundsalt lectured as she wrapped a bandage about Vinyl’s leg. “Even ignoring the threat to your health, I’m not sure my medical supplies can keep up at this rate. You don’t have a record for such violence, so why start now?”

Vinyl gritted her teeth and kept quiet.

“I know you’re young and feel like you’ll live forever, but there’s no need to waste all that energy on something so trivial.” Ms. Woundsalt didn’t notice the glare at her back as she worked to put away her supplies. “You like music, don’t you? Focus on that.”

Vinyl made no attempt to disguise her growl. “Are we done here?”

If Ms. Woundsalt noticed the anger, she did a wonderful job of hiding it. “Only if you promise not to get into any fights for a while.”

“No can do.” Vinyl exited the room and made for the stairs, her head low and eyes sharp. A few foals poked their heads out of the nearby doorways to watch. Some cowered back at her glance while others looked down on her with blatant disdain in their eyes. She didn’t care one way or another, just so long as they understood two things: she was not a pony to be crossed, and right now she was pissed off. Apparently the message was clear, for none dared interfere with her passing.

Ms. Woundsalt’s words echoed in her head over and over again. Vinyl wanted to lash out at the bigot, but knew better than to try. She had to take at least some of the mare’s advice and avoid fighting for a while.

That thought nearly made her pause, but for the sake of the image she forced her legs to keep going.

She pushed her way through the door to her room to find Dry Eyes sitting with Amethyst on the foal’s bed. They both looked up upon her arrival. Amethyst leaned over the edge of the bed. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” Vinyl pulled the door closed with her magic and flopped onto her bed. “Ms. Breeze told me to stay in the room for the rest of the day, though.”

Dry Eyes nodded, lips pursed. “And Junebug?”

“Same thing.”

“Good.” The headmaster stood with a groan. “This is going to be a problem. I’m sure Amethyst appreciates you standing up for her, but this fighting needs to stop.”

“Well, what else am I supposed to do?” Vinyl turned so her back was to them, hissing at the pain that ran up her leg when she applied a little too much pressure. “Junebug treated her like dirt. She had it coming.”

“There are ways to resolve your problems without violence, Vinyl.”

“Maybe, but it sure felt good cracking my hoof across her jaw.”

Silence permeated the room, but Vinyl knew better than to hope the conversation had ended. She braced for the inevitable lecture.

“Don’t fight anymore.”

Vinyl blinked and sat up to find Amethyst reared up against the side of her bed. The filly stared at her with the kind of big, pleading eyes only a foal could manage. “Please, Vinyl. No more fighting.”

Those eyes threatened to crush Vinyl’s still-bubbling anger. “B-but, I was fighting for you.”

“You’re hurt.” Amethyst set her chin to the bed, her eyes rolling up towards Vinyl in a way that only amplified the effect and left a sting in Vinyl’s chest. “I don’t want you to be hurt anymore.”

“It’s not that bad.” Vinyl shifted her legs so the bandage was hidden. “Really.”

Dry Eyes stepped forward. “Think about this, Vinyl; these violent actions of yours are not going unnoticed. I have to issue reports to the government on such things. What if you take one of your brawls too far? They could send you to a juvenile detention center.”

Vinyl snorted and rolled her eyes. “Just another home.”

“Amethyst won’t be coming with you.”

She stiffened, staring at her hooves and fighting not to look at the filly still gazing at her. “That’s…” The lump in her throat prevented any further speech.

“If you get into enough fights, you won’t be around to protect her at all.” Dry Eyes set a hoof to Vinyl’s shoulder. “Despite your words when you first arrived, you’ve grown attached to her, haven’t you?”

“Hey, you’ve got the wrong idea.” Vinyl shoved the hoof off and started to turn away, but paused when Amethyst flinched. “I m-mean… I just feel…” With a groan, Vinyl covered her face to hide the blush. “I just don’t think she deserves to be picked on, okay?”

“They can.” Amethyst ducked so only her eyes were visible over the corner of the bed. “L-let them. Don’t go away.”

Vinyl and Dry Eyes shared startled expressions. “Amethyst,” Dry Eyes said, lowering head to the filly’s level, “do you want Vinyl to stay with you?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“No you don’t.” Vinyl crossed her hooves and sulked, not even bothering to hide her blush this time. “I never play with you or anything like that. I’m not a nice pony.”

“Uh-huh.” Amethyst nodded and nudged Vinyl’s leg with her muzzle. “You’re not mean. I like you.”

“Oh, come on.” Vinyl pulled away with a grimace. “You’re making it real hard to keep up my image, kid.”

Dry Eyes laughed and ruffled Amethyst’s mane. “Sorry, Vinyl, you can’t deny you’ve made a friend.”

“I sure as Tartarus can try.”

“Vinyl…”

“It’s okay,” Amethyst said, dropping to the floor and stepping back from the bed. “Vinyl wants to do big pony things, and I’m a little pony. I’m just happy she’s here.” She turned and pranced to the other side of the room, where a large collection of very organized building blocks were arranged.

Vinyl and Dry Eyes watched her play for a few seconds, the younger unicorn distracted by an insufferably pleasant rising sensation in her chest. She jerked her face away when she caught Dry Eyes studying her with a sly smile. Would her face ever stop burning?

“I think you understand,” Dry Eyes said, her tone patient. “Amethyst’s never had a pony to look after her like you do. If you left she’d be back to square one. I can only do so much. Please, Vinyl, find another way.”

Vinyl refused to meet Dry Eyes’ gaze, and after a while the mare left her alone. At first Vinyl planned on listening to some music to pass the time, but she found herself watching Amethyst play with her blocks. She wanted to be angry at the foal for getting under her skin the way she had, but such an emotion never came to be no matter how she encouraged it.

It dawned upon Vinyl that she’d always been angry at somepony: at her nameless parents for ditching her in that dumpster, at the dumb ponies who kept failing to give her a home, at Celestia’s broken system for letting them try. For every problem Vinyl ever faced, the origins of that problem could be traced back to somepony or something else.

Amethyst was a problem, and for the first time in her life Vinyl could think of nopony to blame. She couldn’t blame Dry Eyes for having no other place for her to sleep, nor was it the system’s fault that Vinyl ended up in this specific orphanage. Oh, she could make the argument that the system and Celestia and the proverbial ‘they’ had led to her being here and growing attached to a filly, but the excuses seemed paltry.

Vinyl didn’t want to take responsibility for her feelings. She’d never been responsible for anything, and now she was supposed to… to what? Be a big sister? She’d barely known Amethyst for three weeks! That kind of bond took a lot longer to form.

So why did she feel so happy when that foal smiled? Why did she get so angry when the other kids bullied her over her heritage?

Maybe this was less of a problem than Vinyl had thought. She stepped off the bed and went over to Amethyst and her blocks. “Whatcha buildin?’”

Amethyst smiled up at her. “A mineshaft.”

“A… what?” Of all the possible answers that could be given, that was not one Vinyl expected.

“A mineshaft,” Amethyst repeated with confidence. She pointed to the yellow bricks, which were arranged in a semi-domed shape. “That’s the mountain.” Her hoof rose to a half-finished, square structure halfway up the ‘mountain.’ “That’s the building over the mine.”

Vinyl cocked her head, but had to admit that she could see what Amethyst had been trying to do. “Why are you building a mineshaft? What are you mining?”

“Jewels.” Amethyst picked up a pile of green, blue and white blocks and lifted her hooves, letting the colorful pieces cascade back to the floor. “I’ll dig them up and sell them. That’s what daddy did.”

“Oh.” Vinyl was so busy trying to process how a four-year-old understood anything about mines that it took her a moment to register exactly what Amethyst had said. “Wait, so you remember your parents?”

Amethyst flinched and looked away. “Yes… but I don’t want to.”

Vinyl flicked some blocks around with the tip of her hoof, wondering about the words on the tip of her tongue. “Um… were they mean?”

The foal hunched over her little mine, face hidden from view. “I don’t know. Were your parents mean?”

Recognizing the dodge, Vinyl thought it only fair to accept defeat for now. “No. I don’t even remember them.”

Amethyst looked up at her, surprising Vinyl with barely controlled tears. “Good. That’s better.”

“Uh… okay.” Vinyl forced a smile, sat and waved to the half-finished mine. “Can I help?”

“Y-you want to play with me?” The foal’s ears perked and she rubbed the moisture from her eyes.

“Sure, why not?” Though she dreaded the potential embarrassment of being caught playing with a foal so young, Vinyl sucked down her pride and grabbed some random blocks. “You finish the mine and I’ll… uh…” She noted some wheels in the organized blocks beside the mine and grabbed one in her magic. “I’ll make the wagon that carries the jewels to the store! How ‘bout that?”

Amethyst’s smile might have outshined the sun. “Okay! But you gotta make it right.”

“Aye-aye, cap’n!” Vinyl saluted, having every intention of making the wagon wrong. She couldn’t resist a smile – a genuine smile – at the way Amethyst giddily clapped her hooves.

The shadows on the ceiling were as still as death. Vinyl stared at them, hooves behind her head and horn gently glowing. A fifteen second portion of a popular rock song played in her headphones.

Click, she rewound the tape. The same music played.

Click, she listened again.

Click.

Click.

Click.

It didn’t fit. Vinyl kept repeating that small section over and over and over again, lips set in a deep frown and brow furrowed. The music was good, but it also felt wrong. She could hear it, a missing element or perhaps a note that wasn’t quite right. If only she could get her hooves on a DJ booth, but she’d only ever used one. That event had birthed her cutie mark and got her thrown out of the house she’d been living in after less than a month.

That was three years ago. She’d give just about anything to get her hooves on another, even if it was just a basic turntable machine.

The shadows on the ceiling came alive and danced as a red and purple glow appeared on the other side of the room. Vinyl tensed, dread rising within her as she watched the shifting darkness. Turning her head, she looked towards Amethyst’s bed at a now-familiar sight; the filly’s horn was creating sparks. They weren’t much, but in this darkness they were impossible to miss.

Vinyl cut off the music and sat up, removing her headphones and slipping off the bed. Moving slowly so as not to wake the filly, she approached and peered at Amethyst’s face. Her lip trembled and tears fell from her tightly closed eyes, and every now and then a whimper would rise from her. She would occasionally yelp, and every time the sparks from her horn would grow brighter. Sweat beaded the poor thing’s brow.

Fifteen times Amethyst had done this. Fifteen times in less than three weeks. The first time or two, Vinyl had dismissed it as something related to the bullying. When it continued, she’d asked Dry Eyes and found that the headmaster was aware of the nightmares, but not the cause. As she studied the filly now, watching her tiny legs kick under the covers, Vinyl couldn’t help thinking that she had to know what disturbed the filly so much.

“Amethyst.” Vinyl shook the filly with one hoof. She jerked away when Amethyst let out a particularly loud shout and kicked at her. Not to be discouraged, Vinyl tried again, this time with two hooves. “Come on, Amethyst, wake up.”

The filly’s breathing increased in pace, becoming shallow and rapid… but then her eyes flitted open. Her mouth opened wide as if she were going to scream, but she stopped herself before anything more than a hoarse wind could come out. She gazed at the ceiling with wide eyes and tiny pupils, which slowly turned to Vinyl.

“V-Vinyl?”

Heaving a long sigh, Vinyl nodded. “Yeah, kiddo. It’s me.”

Amethyst relaxed and the sparks of her horn died. She sniffed and turned her face away. “I’m sorry. I woke you up.”

“Nah, I stay up real late.” Vinyl helped the filly sit up, then sat next to her on the bed. “You have a lot of nightmares.”

“No.” Amethyst hunched over and leaned away from her. “Just one.”

Vinyl nodded, having expected as much. “You want to tell me about it?” The filly shook her head. “Come on, please? Why not?”

“It’s scary.” Amethyst hugged herself tightly. “I don’t wanna remember.”

Though using the advice of some of the adults she’d met made her feel uneasy, Vinyl knew she had to get something out of Amethyst. “Maybe if you tell me about it you’ll feel better. Come on, you can trust me.”

“But it won’t go away,” Amethyst whispered.

Vinyl glanced at the door, ears perking for the slightest of sounds. She heard nothing and could only assume nopony had heard Amethyst. Of course, that was a ridiculous thought; Amethyst was hardly a loud filly. Still, Vinyl moved with great hesitancy as she wrapped her leg around Amethyst and tugging her close. She just knew somepony would burst in right about now to catch her acting all nice.

But this trumped her reputation… mostly. “If it doesn’t go away,” she whispered, “maybe it won’t be so scary.”

Amethyst perked her ears. Her eyes shifted about as she thought on this possibility, lips tightly closed. Vinyl made no attempt to press her, knowing she wouldn’t want to be if she had been in the same position.

“ ‘The Archons killed your parents.’ ”

Vinyl blinked and looked down at Amethyst. “What?”

“That’s what he says,” Amethyst whispered, pressing against her. “ ‘The Archons killed your parents. Fear Celestia and stay away from Canterlot. You don’t deserve this, and I am sorry.’ ”

“Uh… Is that… from your nightmare?”

“Not a nightmare,” Amethyst said before burying her face between Vinyl’s leg and barrel. “I remember. It h-happened.”

“What?” Vinyl lowered her head to better hear. “Amethyst, what do you remember?”

“Mommy and D-Daddy.” Amethyst began to cry and wrapped her legs around Vinyl’s foreleg. “I saw them d-die. I see it again and again. It’s horrible.”

Vinyl’s blood ran cold. “Oh Goddess… seriously?”

Amethyst somehow managed to avoid sobbing. “Some muddy stallion took me away while Daddy… D-Daddy burned. ‘The Archons killed your parents. Fear Celestia and stay away from Canterlot. You don’t deserve this, and I am sorry.’ He made me drink and… and I can’t forget.”

Vinyl gazed at her, mind blank. She fought to come up with some kind of response, but… How do you respond to something like this?

Would the Archons do something so terrible? What for? What possible advantage could there be to making a filly remember something like that? Then again, everypony in the orphanage knew Amethyst’s background. They all shunned her, just like they were supposed to. It dawned upon Vinyl that Amethyst might be nothing more to the Archons than an example, a warning to others not to repeat her parents’ mistakes. Fire burned fresh in Vinyl’s mind. She held Amethyst close and slowly lay down on the bed, letting the filly cry silently in her shoulder.

Images of Celestia came to mind, pure artworks shown all over Equestria of the great deliverer of light and good and justice. For her part, Vinyl had never been enamored with the princess, for she was peripheral to everything Vinyl knew. Yet now that she really stopped to think on it… on the system and its flaws and the way it came to be, on how it had turned her life into one big joke…

Vinyl entertained the thought that she might be wrong. Amethyst could just be having a recurring nightmare, or perhaps she was sick in the head. Vinyl thought on the subject and could easily see how many might form such a conclusion.

It was a veil, a blanket of comfort. Vinyl rejected that blanket. Amethyst’s pain, her quiet sobs were real. They didn’t come from some trick of the mind. Everypony knew the Archons were everywhere, doing the dirty work Celestia couldn’t. How curious that all the nefarious deeds the Archons were accused of had never been condoned by the princess, yet they did them anyway. All Vinyl’s life, she’d heard the same story; Celestia cannot control the Archons, she can only influence them.

The Archons killed your parents. Fear Celestia and stay away from Canterlot.

It sounded like a conspiracy theory playing out in her head, but what if Celestia really did control the Archons? If Amethyst’s little story was true – and Vinyl was determined to give her that much – then it may be that somepony had opened a window into the true nature of Celestia. Perhaps that was crazy. Most ponies wholeheartedly believed that Celestia brought forth everything good in the world. If ponies questioned the word of a goddess, were they inherently wrong, or coming upon some profound and deeply hidden truths?

Vinyl didn’t like where these thoughts were taking her.

The crying had stopped. Vinyl discovered Amethyst cradled tightly against her barrel and sound asleep. Biting her lip, she glanced at the door. Maybe she should…

With a grimace, Vinyl forced her head down and tried to relax. Amethyst needed her. This filly was broken, and Vinyl was worried about her image?

Buck the image, and buck the Archons. She cradled Amethyst and closed her eyes. I’ll look after you, little Sparkler. Goddess knows nopony else will.

Besides, us misfits have to stick together.

Author's Notes:

I probably mentioned it before, but the 'books' I'm writing are not going to be presented in chronological order. Those of you paying attention to the dates will have noticed that this chapter takes place three years after Intermission I and a full four years after the last Fine Crime chapter. Other things have already happened in the meantime, such as other ponies being inducted into the Order of Shadows. This means that some things will pop up later that will leave the reader with questions. I can assure you, those questions will be answered in time.

Vinyl's appearance in Trixie vs. Equestria amounted to nothing more than a cameo, but when I conceived of Order of Shadows I faced the serious challenge of coming up with her backstory. I'm not 100% sure where this story will take her, but hopefully I can make her situation worthwhile.