It was yet another sunny day. The sky was blue and vast, and although a few clouds floated by high in the air, the visibility was amazing. Far in the distance, Toaster was able to see her old home, the city of Canterlot, perched high on a mountain ledge. It looked so far away, and so small.

She leaned back in the bench on which she sat and savored the cool breeze of the summer’s wind as it blew through her unclothed coat. The air smelled so sweet, like forest and fresh-cut grass with a hint of lilac. All around her, everything was so green and alive. There were trees and grass and flowers, and even rocks, which were not technically alive but were still important parts of the landscape.

Toaster shifted on the bench. Sitting on benches, apparently, was one of Lyra’s favorite activities aside from constructing anthropomorphic weapons of mass destruction. Toaster did not enjoy it so much, but it was still pleasant.

A few ponies had gathered in the park to enjoy the day. The bench roughly faced a small pond, in which Scootaloo and her friends were playing. At first they had been splashing each other in the water, but now they seemed to be focused on attempting to get Scootaloo to fly by having her climb up onto a high tree branch and jump- -and ordeal that invariable resulted in belly-flops into the water followed by laughter and suggestions for improvement. Toaster could not help but feel a certain sympathy for Scootaloo; just as Scootaloo had been born with nonfunctional wings, Toaster had been born with a defective and useless horn.

Of the three fillies in the pond, the only one that seemed to care much about Toaster’s presence was the pretty one. The small white unicorn would occasionally give Toaster dirty glances, at which point Toaster would usually just smile and wave. She understood that the small unicorn was still angry that Toaster had beaten her sister- -or potentially mother, Toaster was not sure- -but according to Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle would forgive her eventually now that Toaster and Rarity had gotten on reasonable terms.

In a nearby field, other ponies were doing various activities. Some were having various picnics, while others were running and playing games in the grass. Of those playing, most were colts and fillies, but one gray mare did stand out amongst them all. Muffins was playing with her dog: it would occasionally throw a stick, at which point Muffins would pursue it, catch it in her mouth, and return it. Toaster was not sure that was how that sort of thing was supposed to work, but Muffins seemed to be enjoying it, so Toaster had no complaints.

The day, in other words, was perfect. The only thing that could have made it better was if Toaster’s father had been able to share it with her. She did not know what he actually did, but had a vague understanding that he was a very busy stallion. Even with his work, though, he had always been there for Toaster in her fillyhood, and she knew that he had always done everything he could to make her happy. She loved him dearly, and was sad that he could not come and sit on the bench with her and see how pretty everything was.

For the first time, Toaster realized that she might just have been happy. She was not preoccupied with her special talent, or her job, or doing anything in particular except being herself. She had friends who cared about her and who could help her when she needed help, and who she would help if she was able. She had a job she was good at and a place to live. She even had a special somepony. Her life was going better than she had ever expected it would.

“Toaster,” said a voice that nearly made Toaster fall out of her seat. Toatser turned around rapidly and saw Bread behind her.

“Bread!” said Toaster. “Hello! I was definitely not thinking about you right there.”

“Fantasizing about those frilly stallion-panties again?”

“Maybe a little,” she said, embarrassed.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Do you mind if I sit down?”

“Sure,” said Toaster.

Bread sat next to Toaster and spent several seconds trying and eventually failing to find an appropriate position.

“Why do we even have benches anyway?” he asked. “It doesn’t seem like the kind of thing ponies would use. There’s no way to get comfortable.”

“You have to do it like this,” said Toaster, slouching backward and making a serious-face, pretending to be Lyra.

Bread snorted and smiled. “Does that make me Bon Bon, then?”

“Only if you start swearing in Italian and hitting me with a newspaper.” Toaster sat more properly, and then leaned sideways until she was leaning against Bread entirely. He felt soft, and she could feel his wing against her. “You smell like fresh bread,” she noted.

“I do my best,” he said, putting his foreleg around her.

“I just saw your sister. She was playing with that weird-looking dog you guys have.”

“The dog is not weird looking,” said Bread. “It is an adorable dog.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t adorable. It’s just…strange.” Toaster looked out to the field, and saw that the dog was gone. She scanned the remainder of the park until she saw a pair of gray wings protruding from the nearby pond, just drifting slowly by.

“Is she okay like that?” said Toaster, pointing.

“She’s fine,” said Bread. “Muffins is great at the deadmare’s float. She can stay like that for hours.”

Toaster saw a colt across the pond poking Muffins with a stick. She seemed pretty nonresponsive, but Toaster shrugged it off. Bread knew his sister better than any pony- -in some ways, even, that were not really appropriate for siblings- -and she trusted his judgement.

“It isn’t Taco Tuesday yet,” said Toaster, looking up at Bread. “I’m surprised you came to see me.”

“I actually have something for you,” he said.

“Is it food?”

“No. Better.”

“Better than food?”

Bread smiled and produced a magazine from under his wing. Toaster looked down at it and saw that it was a dog-eared copy of Pony Geographic with a front cover of a pony archeologist standing next to a large sandstone block with what appeared to be a changeling fossil in it.

“What’s this?” said Toaster, taking the copy from Bread.

“Turn to page eighty seven.”

“Okay…” Toaster opened it and counted the pages. When she finally reached the page in question, she found that it consisted of a perfume advertisement. Then, when she saw the bottom, she gasped.

“When you described it, I knew I had seen it somewhere,” said Bread. “I spent all of last night going through Muffin’s back-issue collection, but I finally found one.”

Toaster was at a loss for words. There, at the bottom of the page, was a picture of a pony in socks and a saddle, stretched out across a vista of the Los Pegasus skyline- -the exact image she had cherished in her youth.

“I can’t believe you found this,” she said, wiping a tear away from her eye.

“Did I do something wrong?” asked Bread, sounding genuinely concerned.

Toaster shook her head, and then wrapped him in a powerful hug. He hugged her back more gently.

“Get a room!” cried Scootaloo from the pond. She and her friends giggled slightly, and so did Toaster. She and Bread separated, blushing.

They sat for several minutes not talking but enjoying the scenery. Then, for some reason, Toaster felt the scenery change. An unusual number of shadows crossed the ground, and Toaster looked up, expecting to see a flock of Pegasi overhead. There were indeed things flying, but they were neither birds nor Pegasi. Toaster was not sure what they were.

Then, all at once, a contingent of heavily armored griffons landed around her and Bread, filling the park. Toaster was momentarily impressed; she had never seen griffons in real life, and they were majestic creatures.

Then the circle began to tighten, and Toaster knew that something was wrong. Bread stood up.

“What is this?” he asked.

Almost as soon as he said it, the wall of castle guards separated and a violet pony dressed in ceremonial armor stepped through, accompanied by the town mayor among others. Toaster was momentarily confused, but then she noticed that the violet pony had a horn and wings.

“Princess Twilight!” she said in awe, immediately bowing, as did Bread. “Oh wow! I’m so happy to meet you! Fluttershy told me all about you and what a good friend you are to everypony in Ponyville! You’re shorter than I expected, though, but I guess- -”

“Toaster of the Order of Toastmasters,” said Twilight. Toaster lifted her head, not understanding what ‘Toastmaster’ meant, although she thought that she had heard the word somewhere before. Her smile faded rapidly when she saw how serious the Princess was, as though she were on the verge of crying.

“Princess?” said Toaster. “Is…is something wrong?”

Twilight looked Toaster in the eye, and Toaster saw that the princess was crying. “By my royal decree, you are henceforth banished from all populated regions of Equestria…”

“WHAT?” cried Bread, stepping forward, only to be nearly skewered by griffon spears.

“…this order is effective immediately and is my final decision. It cannot be appealed.”

Toaster smiled for a moment, thinking that it was a joke- -but then she realized that it was not. Her heart sank deeper than it ever had. “You’re…you’re banning me?” she said.

Twilight nodded. “You have four hours to collect your things.”

“But…but what did I do?” squeaked Toaster, feeling tears well in her eyes. “Whatever it is, I’m sorry! I really am!”

“No,” said Twilight. “I’m sorry.”

“You lying little- -” Bread attempted to leap forward, but was held back by a sudden flash of gray.

“Don’t!” said Muffins. “Bread, don’t!”

“You LIED!” cried Bread. “You promised! You PROMISED!”

Twilight turned away. She could not look at either of the ponies before her. The ponies behind her were equally saddened, save for Spoiled Rich, who just smirked.

“But…I love Ponyville,” said Toaster. “And…and I finally have friends. Real friends. Lyra, and Scootaloo, and Bon Bon, and Lacy Leather, and Muffins and Bread, and all the others…”

“Please,” said Twilight. “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

“Oh,” said Toaster, looking down at the ground. She sniffled slightly. “Well…if the Princess of Friendship says I shouldn’t have friends, I guess I really shouldn’t.”

“No. No!” cried Bread, trying to break free of Muffin’s grip. “Don’t leave! Please! Not now! Not after all this!”

“No,” said Toaster. “I’m a bad pony. And bad ponies don’t get to be happy.”

She turned around, and the griffons parted. Toaster slowly trudged toward the opening.

“Wait!” cried a voice from outside the circle. Toaster craned her neck to see Scootaloo and her two friends trying to break past the line of griffons. “Twilight, there must be some mistake!”

“Yeah!” said the red-haired earth pony. “This just ain’t right!”

“Even she doesn’t deserve this!” said the unicorn.

“Yes I do,” said Toaster. She ignored Scootaloo’s pleading and began to make her way back to Lyra’s house to once again pack her things. She momentarily looked down at the magazine that Bread had just given her, but decided against taking it. It would only remind her of the life she could never have.

As she left, Bread looked up from the ground with tears in his derped eyes. His sister released his grasp, and he stood, glaring at Twilight.

“How dare you call yourself the ‘Princess of Friendship’?” he said. “I thought you were on our side. I didn’t want to believe what they said. But now I see what you really are. Chrysalis should have killed you when she had the chance.” Then, without warning, he spit in Twilight’s face.

The griffons immediately bristled into action, but Twilight held up a hoof. “No,” she said. “I deserved that. Just make sure she gets to the edge of town safely.”

“Twilight,” said Muffins. “I’m very disappointed in you.”

Twilight sighed, using all of her ability to hold back the tears. She had never realized that being a princess would be so hard, that she would have to do such terrible things. But it had to be done. Exiling Toaster was the only way to save her life.

Then, as silently as they had come, the griffons took off to the sky. Twilight and her entering turned away, walking back into the distance. Bread watched them go, and then collapsed into his sister’s grasp, weeping onto her shoulder. She held him, trying to comfort him as the Cutie Mark Crusaders looked on in sadness.

Above them, a pair of armored Toastmasters watched the proceedings from a dense tree. Satisfied with the result, the quickly departed back toward the edge of the village to where their father was awaiting their return.

Neither one of them saw the horde of blue, blank-eyed unicorns that watched them leave, nor did they see the smiles that simultaneously crossed all of their cold, lifeless faces.