High in the mountains, a white unicorn reclined in the shade of an ancient hemlock tree. Ostentatiously, she was reading a book, but had she been asked about its subject, she would have been unable to give a proper response. Her attention was far too heavily devoted to the view before her: across from the grove of the trees and a narrow mountain road, all of Equestria seemed to stretch out beneath the Canterlot Mountains, the leaves of its countless millions of trees ablaze with color. It was breathtaking, the scope of its color and beauty so grand that the unicorn barely even felt the brisk chill of the high mountain air. She found herself humming a tune, and after a few moments set the book down and produced a pad from one of her bags to record the notes that the scenic view had inspired.

Time passed quickly, and when she finally heard the sound of a pony approaching the isolated area, she looked up to find her notepad compressed almost solidly with notation and annotation that would no doubt take hours to actually decipher.

“Sweetie Belle!” called a familiar voice.

“Over here!” Sweetie Belle put her pad into one of her pockets and stood up from the shade of her chosen tree. She stepped out onto the worn road that bordered the rather sheer drop down the mountainside. Down the path, a red-maned earth pony was approaching. She was pale and thin, dressed in clothing that was perhaps too excessive for the relatively moderate chill in the air- -but she was still smiling broadly.

“A’m sorry I took so long,” she said. “You know how the fall season is. And we had an applesauce leak, and it took me an’ Applejack all morning to get it plugged. Don’t think the barn is ever gonna smell quite the same way again.”

“I’m surprised you managed to come at all. You look good.”

Applebloom smiled heartily, and her nearly luminescent green eyes seemed slightly less tired. “Yeah. Ah’ve been workin’ with Zecora. A few modifications to the redox formula, and now the medicine doesn’t make me sick anymore. Or as sick, at least.” Her smile became slightly more forced as she became more uncomfortable. Despite her pride in her potionmaking abilities, this subject was not one that Applebloom liked to talk about. She instead turned toward the road. “Oh golly, would you look at that view!” She approached the rusted metal rail and looked down. “Hey! I can see my house from here!”

Sweetie Belle smiled. As they had grown older, the Cutie Mark Crusaders had tended to take different paths. They did not spend as much time together as they used to, and Sweetie Belle missed it.

“Yeah,” she said, leaning against the rail with Applebloom. “I wish I brought some binoculars or something. Or even some of those weird little opera glasses that Rarity has way to many of.”

“I had no idea we were this high!”

“Well, Canterlot’s only a few miles that way. We’re about as up as we can get.” Sweetie Belle looked down at Ponyville below. It was a little bit larger than it had been when they were younger; there had been more developments around the sparkling crystal castle that had come to dominate its landscape, as well as several new developments, farms, and of course the Rich’s new and oversized McMansion pretentiously set on a hill on the distant outskirts. “I’ve got to wonder. We’re so high up and so far away, we can see all of it. Everything and everypony. But they can’t see us at all. They don’t even know we’re here, watching. It kind of gives you chills, doesn’t it?”

“The only thing that’s givin’ me chills is the chills,” said Applebloom, bundling her jacket around her. She looked around. “Hey, where’s Scootaloo? She wasn’t on the train, so I assumed she got here early with you.”

“I walked from Canterlot. I think she said something about taking the ‘scenic route’.”

“Scenic route?” Applebloom looked perplexed. She pointed out at the awe-inspiring view. “Well, there’s the scenic,” she then pointed at the cracked and eroded path that they were standing on. “And I guess that’s the route. Wait, so she’s going to actually use the old horse path? She’s going to walk ALL the way up THAT?”

“Unless she climbs,” said Sweetie Belle, her eyes widening as she looked down the rocky cliff. That was an absurd thought, but knowing Scootaloo, she would probably try it.

Then, almost on cue, a distant thrumming sound filled the air. Applebloom and Sweetie Belle looked at each other, confused by what exactly could be making such a sound in a relatively rural area with no ponies around.

The sound appeared to be growing closer, echoing off the stone and trees of surrounding area, and Sweetie Belle and Applebloom eventually found themselves turning their heads to look down the road. As the sound grew louder, a vehicle suddenly appeared around one of the bends: a two-wheeled device with more tubing and exposed metal than Applebloom’s family still, its machinery humming and complaining as it pulled the orange Pegasus atop it higher up the hill.

The vehicle approached quickly- -almost recklessly- -and then came to a sudden stop. The spinning and whirring magical device that allowed the vehicle to move cut and slowed to a stop, but as it did, a valve on one of the sides burst open, pouring a hissing cloud of acrid steam into the air.

The rider jumped off and fanned the coolant leak, her heavy swearing fortunately muffled beneath her helmet. She tried her best to intervene, turning valves and adjusting the complicated and sometimes dicey looking machinery until the steam slowed to a dull squeak of hot gas.

Satisfied with the result, Scootaloo stood and removed her helmet. The resulting smell of hair dye was so strong that it forced Sweetie Belle and Appleboom to both take a step back.

“Wow. That’s a statement,” said Sweetie Belle as Scootaloo’s long, rainbow-dyed hair fell out of her helmet.

“What, the mane? Yeah, I know.” Scootaloo put her hoof through it proudly. “It makes me at least twenty percent more awesome.”

Applebloom looked down at the vehicle. “You came up here. All the way up here. On THAT?”

Scootaloo smiled proudly, a smile which quickly became a frown as the coolant fizzled and popped loudly. “Of course. I was getting pretty good speed, too. Still need to work on the cooling, though. It doesn’t like to go uphill.”

“I’m surprised it goes at all,” said Sweetie Belle. “And I’m surprised that even you got onto it. And where did you even get the money for a magic engine?”

“This baby is the sum product of all of those hard summers in the weather factory,” said Scootaloo, patting the vehicle. “It took all of my rainbow money, but it was totally worth it.”

Applebloom eyed the motorcycle distrustfully. “I don’ like it. Horseless carriages, they just aren’t natural. Perversions of nature.”

“Neither is my hair color. But that doesn’t keep me from being the third sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, after this machine itself and Rainbow Dash.” She set her helmet on the handlebars of the vehicle. “So. Why am I here?”

“So you don’t actually know,” sighed Sweetie Belle.

“I can’t pay attention to EVERY detail,” protested Scootaloo.

“We’re here for that,” said Sweetie Belle, pointing to a path that led off into the thickly treed hills from the old road. “Diamond Tiara’s checking out ANOTHER venue for the Pony Prom, and she asked me if we could take a look at it.”

“Why us?” said Applebloom. “Can’t she look at it herself?”

“She says she’s busy,” shrugged Sweetie Belle. “And I’m okay with that. I mean, we’re supposed to help ponies in need, aren’t we?”

“That doesn’t mean we have to do Diamond Tiara’s dirty work.”

“She is our friend,” said Scootaloo. “I mean, she’s helped us out loads of times. She even got me a sweet deal on my cooling system.” As if to punctuate the statement, the broken valve on Scootaloo’s motorcycle released one more strong plume of gas.

“I know it isn’t a pleasant job,” said Sweetie Belle. “But how hard can it be? And we hardly get to spend any time together anymore. After the Prom, I’m going off to college, Scootaloo’s going to work full time, and you’re going to be working at Sweet Apple Acres all the time. I didn’t think one last adventure would hurt.”

Applebloom’s frown slowly converted to a smile. “It isn’t going to be our last, Sweetie Belle. We’re still the Cutie Mark Crusaders, no matter what.”

“Yeah,” said Scootaloo. “Assuming my rotary core doesn’t overheat on the way back down…then you’ll be out a Scootaloo…”

The other two laughed- -apparently thinking that Scootaloo was joking- -and then started for the dark, tree-lined pathway.

“So, what is this place anyway?” asked Scootaloo, looking up at the oversized and strangely threatening trees, their green needles standing in unnerving defiance to the autumn around them.

“Some old mansion, I think,” said Sweetie Belle. “There’s a bunch of them out here. It’s where the rich ponies used to live back when Canterlot was all temples and stuff. Most of them are just ruins now.”

“That’s kind of creepy,” said Applebloom. “Everypony just left? Why?”

“I don’t know. I guess fashion just changed, and everypony wanted to live in the city instead of way out here.”

“You would know about fashion,” said Scootaloo, somewhat sarcastically gesturing toward Sweetie Belle’s elaborate black dress.

“You can’t be Rarity’s sister and not be fashionable. Just like you can’t be Applejack’s sister and not be into apples. Or Rainbow Dash’s sister and not be…you.”

“I’m just saying, it’s a weird choice.”

Sweetie Belle shrugged it off. She liked dressing in black.

The trio continued up the path, and the trees just seemed to keep getting larger. Within a few minutes, the curving of the drive made it impossible to see the street. They were now virtually in the center of a hemlock forest, surrounded by dark trunks and tall trees that swayed slowly and ominously in the mountain wind. All three of them were becoming more nervous, especially with how silent it suddenly was.

“So,” said Applebloom, falling into step with Sweetie Belle. “You both are going to the Prom, right?”

“Of course,” said Sweetie Belle.

“Any idea of who you’re bringing?”

Sweetie Belle blushed slightly. “Who are YOU going to bring, Applebloom?”

“Well I’m not entirely sure…”

“Not sure?! The dance is barely two weeks away! How can you be ‘not sure’?”

“You know how it is. It’s almost impahssible to find somepony in Equestria who isn’t one of mah cousins. Although…” Applebloom giggled slightly. “Tender Taps is leading the list right now.”

“Taps?” said Scootaloo. “Seriously? You do realize he’s basically the dude version of me, right?”

“Yeah, appearance wise, he doesn’t score high,” joked Applebloom. “But he’s sweet. A lot of ponies won’t even get near me anymore, but when he found out I was sick, he actually gave me a hug.”

“Aww.”

“What about you? Don’t dodge the question this time. Inquahring minds want to know.”

Sweetie Belle sighed. “I don’t know either. I’ve gotten so many requests.”

“Must be tough.”

“I’m not trying to brag, but, you know. White unicorn. Every colt and probably about half the fillies want to take me.”

“So which is it?” asked Scootaloo. “Colt or filly?”

“I don’t know. I could go either way at this point…maybe I can do one of each. I’m pretty sure Button would be up for that…” Sweetie Belle blushed again and realized that she was saying more than she had wanted to. “And- -er- -Scootaloo, you’re in pretty high demand yourself, who- -”

“Rainbow Dash.”

“Um…what?”

“You know you’re kind of supposed to take a real date to the dance. It’s trahdition.”

“I don’t care. It has to be Rainbow Dash. Oh Celestia…if Rainbow Dash were a stallion, I would want to have all his pony babies for him. Is it normal to feel that way?”

“No.”

“Defiantly not.”

“You’re a pervert.”

“Oh,” said Scootaloo, somewhat disheartened. “Well…I’m still taking Rainbow Dash. She’s already agreed to it. We’re even getting matching dresses. This Pony Prom isn’t going to know what hit it!”

“You know,” said Sweetie Belle. “Diamond Tiara’s the one who sent us out here and whose putting the whole thing together. Do you think she has a date?”

“What do you think?” said Scootaloo, as though the answer were obvious. “Even after she mellowed out when we were fillies, I have NEVER seen a colt even try to take her on a date. And she doesn’t seem to mind.”

“Ahctually,” said Applebloom. “Silver Spoon was helping out with the fall harvest, and we got to talking. Apparently, Diamond Tiara has a coltfriend.”

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo both stopped, nearly tripping over each other. “Wait, what? HER? I mean, HER?”

“That was pretty much my reaction, too. Silver didn’t say much, just that he was some foreigner. There fahmilies have some business together or something. Diamond Tiara’s apparently been real excited about the whole thing.”

“But- -she’s DIAMOND TIARA,” said Scootaloo, still unable to process this news. “I mean, I always figured she’s get with Silver Spoon eventually, but…”

“Well, she’s gotten a lot nicer over the years,” suggested Sweetie Belle.

“Mah family has a saying. You can’t pick up a road apple by the clean end. That and you can’t polish one neither, but that doesn’t apply here, at least I don’t think so.”

Sweetie Belle’s eyes narrowed. Of the three of them, she was the one who had grown to tolerate Diamond Tiara the best. She was also beginning to become more nervous in the dark forest now that they were stopped. Something seemed to be moving between the trees, but Sweetie Belle could never lock onto it. It was either too fast or too dark to be seen clearly, but she knew it was there.

“She’s our friend, Applebloom,” she said, somewhat harshly, walking quickly to try to get the group moving again.

Applebloom looked somewhat hurt, and then ashamed. “Yeah, I’m sorry. But she’s just so…uppity. And arrogant. And temperamental. And just plain mean, even if she is trying to be nice.”

“And she always wears that tiara,” said Scootaloo. “You know, I’ve always wondered if she takes it off when she sleeps.”

“She can be a bit…abrasive. But she’s trying,” said Sweetie Belle, her eyes wandering through the trees and just barely catching a glimpse of something large skittering silently through the underbrush. She momentarily had a desire to run right back the way she came, but Applebloom and Scootaloo- -both of whom were more perceptive and athletic than she was- -did not seem to notice or care. Sweetie Belle did not want to worry them, so she just kept walking.

“Hey,” said Scootaloo, her rainbow-dyed mane and tail blowing in the wind while she was gleefully oblivious to whatever was moving around them. “You’ll never guess what I found under my crawlspace the other day…”

The Cutie Mark Crusaders- -though mostly Scootaloo, because her reckless abandon tended to lead to more misadventures- -continued to trade stories, lightening the mood as they made their way toward their destination. Sweetie Belle laughed several times, and she did feel happy- -but she could not shake the feeling that they were being watched. Applebloom seemed to be picking up on it too, continually casting her green eyes toward the trees and sniffing the air fruitlessly. Scootaloo, of course, was oblivious, as often tended to be the case.

When they finally reached their destination, Scootaloo was telling yet another story of something she had eaten recently- -an actually interesting subject, considering that many of the things she put in her mouth were only on the borderline of being classified as food. Sweetie Belle momentarily paused, feeling herself growing even colder in the autumn wind. The building itself was in good shape, even surprisingly good shape, and surrounded by formal gardens that, though overgrown, still maintained their general shape. There was nothing especially frightening about the building itself; in fact, it was architecturally stunning, a prime example of turn-of-the century design.

What made it strange was just how dark it seemed to be. Sweetie Belle was even sure that, for just a moment, she saw the outline of a pony move quickly behind one of its windows.

“Wait, Diamond Tiara wants to have the Prom HERE?” said Scootaloo, looking up at it.

“It certainly looks…big,” said Applebloom.

“I don’t like this,” said Scootaloo, seeming to become conscious of the disconerning nature of the location all at once. “We should go.”

Applebloom blinked, and then picked up Scootaloo’s rainbow-dyed tail and inspected the ground behind her.

“WHOA! Hey, what are you doing?!”

“Checkin’ for the eggs.”

“Eggs? Pegasi don’t lay eggs…I think…”

“No, but chickens do.”

Scootaloo frowned. “Oh, ha ha. It’s not like I haven’t heard that one. Every. Single. Day.”

“It’s just ah house,” said Applebloom, trotting toward the large door surrounded by marble columns. “Ah live in one. How bad can it be?”

Applebloom lifted her hoof to push on the door, and it swung open on its own.

“It can be that bad,” squeaked Sweetie Belle.

“It’s just the wind,” said Applebloom. “Come on, it’s not like we’re gonna find the Olden Pony in there or something.”

“You just had to say that,” whined Scootaloo. “You just HAD to say that…”

Applebloom laughed, and then walked into the darkness of the old building. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo looked at each other, and then ran after their friend.

“Wow, it’s dark in here,” said Applebloom. “Sweetie Belle?”

“Yeah, I’m on it.” Sweetie Belle focused her mind and charged her horn. It ignited with clear blue light, flooding the room with illumination and long, sharp shadows.

“Wow,” said Applebloom, looking up at the dusty but otherwise grand front hallway. “This place is darn fancy, isn’t it?”

“No,” said Scootaloo. “It’s dark, and cold, and there’s an Olden Pony in here.”

“Actually, I think this place would be pretty cool,” said Sweetie Belle. “I mean, with this big front room, I’d feel like I’m at the Grand Galloping Gala instead of a harvest dance.”

“What are we supposed to do in here, anyway?” said Scootaloo. “I just want to get it done and get out.”

“I dunno,” said Applebloom. “I guess she just wanted us to take a look around, see if everything’s in good condition and all.” She turned back toward Sweetie Belle, and both her friends winced at the unnerving fact that in the dark, Applebloom’s eyes really were luminescent. “Come on, let’s see if they have a ballroom!”

Applebloom trotted excitedly off, and Sweetie Belle- -as the light source- -trotted to keep up. Applebloom seemed excited, and Scootaloo seemed reluctant, but Sweetie Belle was just glad to not be outside where whatever was following them was.

The house was pretty standard for its era in terms of layout: a large front room with stairways that led to the second floor, and a large open area on the bottom, both of which led into a long system of straight corridors that likely formed a large square around an outdoor courtyard. The rocky topography of the mountains shifted the shape a little bit, skewing the layers toward one side, but Sweetie Belle was pretty sure she could guess where the ballroom and dining rooms were on the far side. They were as far away as possible from the front- -a substantial architectural faux pas, actually- -but that really did not matter much for a dance. What mattered was that Applebloom seemed insistent on trekking through the entire abandoned mansion to reach the other side.

As they made their way through the long halls, the feeling of being watched returned to Sweetie Belle. The large wooden halls seemed to tighten around her, amplifying her unfounded terror and causing her light to flicker just slightly.

Then a sound permeated the air. Scootaloo jumped and cried out, even though the sound was not intrinsically threatening. It sounded like a cricket or cicada, a kind of long chirp or buzz- -except much louder. That made it unnerving and strange, the fact that it was impossible to recognize exactly what kind of thing was making that sound or where it was coming from.

Then, all at once, it cut out.

“What…was that?” asked Applebloom, suddenly much more cautious.

“I don’t know,” said Sweetie Belle, restoring her light to full strength and immediately noticing that Scootaloo was abnormally pale, her eyes wide and focused down the hall toward where they had come from.

“Do you think…it had something to do…with…that?” She pointed a shaking hoof down the long corridor.

Sweetie Belle and Applebloom turned slowly, and Sweetie Belle felt her breathing stop just as her heart started to pound through her chest. A figure was lurking far at the end of the hall. Not an apparition or a shape- -but a definite silhouette of a pony, standing just beyond where her light could reach. The only part of it that was clear were a pair of reflective, silver eyes.

“Um…hello?” called Sweetie Belle, trying to sound brave. “Do…do you need any help?”

The figure did not respond, but nor did it depart. It seemed to sway slightly as it took a step forward.

“This- -this is private property!” cried Scootaloo.

“It’s probably his private property,” suggested Applebloom, taking a step back as the figure seemed to move closer.

“Not helping!” hissed Scootaloo.

“Are you…are you lost?” asked Sweetie Belle. “If you could just step into the light, we can…”

Sweetie Belle trailed off, realizing the mistake she had just made. Even though she could only see its silhouette, she could tell that it was not shaped like a normal pony. Something was wrong with it, some kind of disease. She did not really want to know what it looked like beneath those shadows.

The figure’s head tilted slightly, its silver eyes glimmering in the bluish light. Then, with a sudden cicada-like scream, it burst forward, rushing unnaturally quickly across the ground toward them.

Sweetie Belle turned and ran, her friends beside her. Scootaloo was crying, and her tiny, useless atrophied wings were buzzing wildly, unable to lift the weight of her body. Applebloom, likewise, was sprinting ahead in complete defiance of her degenerative illness.

There had not been much of a chance for Sweetie Belle to see the monster, but she had gotten a glimpse of it just as it entered her light. She saw the tiny silver eyes, and a mouth full of long, pointed teeth chomping at the air, hungering for the flesh of fillies. It was definitely not a pony, and it did not move like a pony. Worst of all, though, it was much, much faster.

Screaming, the trio of ponies dashed down the hall, Scootaloo leading the way. Being the less athletic of the three, Sweetie Belle was stuck behind the others, and she could feel the monster approaching, its hoof steps growing louder. She could feel its breath and see the devilish orange glow of its chitinous body as it came toward her. Her mind was filled with the thought of those enormous, needle-like teeth, and she could not help herself from expecting it to sink them into her flank and pull her down before coming after her best friends.

A sudden flash of white light filled the hall, and with a small electric-like explosion, the creature appeared in front of them. Its long, pointed teeth, blank, staring eyes, and sickly green skin were apparent to all three of them now. It hissed loudly, spreading a pair of wings from beneath the decaying rags it wore for clothing.

“In here!” cried Applebloom, pulling Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle into a side room. Sweetie Belle looked around and tried to grab the door, but she was too slow. Something heavy and warm landed on her from behind, and she screamed as she felt hooves clawing at her body.

“No! Let go!” she cried, charging her horn and trying to repel it. Her own magic was already weak, but in her terrified state, she should have been able to do something. Instead, the magic seemed to slip, as though she could not fully get a grip on the creature.

Sweetie Belle found herself turned over, and the monster’s face came within inches of hers, its enormous jaws opening wide toward her face and its silver eyes glinting wildly from just beyond the corners of its gaping maw. It reeked heavily of cinnamon, and Sweetie Belle wondered if that would be the last thing she ever smelled.

“No you DON’T!” cried Applebloom. A pair of pale yellow rear hooves immediately struck the creature in the side of the head and its tiny eyes widened. The force of the kick sent it sprawling across the floor, giving Sweetie Belle a chance to clamor away.

“Ow! My face!” it cried in an oddly non-treatening, almos squeaky voice. “My beautiful face! Why does everypony ALWAYS go for the FACE?!”

“Wait,” said Applebloom, the tension filling the room immediately dissipating. “You can tahlk?”

Before the creature was able to answer, a sound of muffled laughter filled the room. Familiar laughter.

A closet on the far end of the room burst open and two ponies spilled out. One immediately fell to the floor in a fit of hilarity.

“Diamond Tiara!” cried Sweetie Belle.

“You- -you should have seen your FACES!” wheezed Diamond Tiara, rolling on the dusty wooden floor in complete disregard for her inevitably perfect pink coat. “You were TERRIFIED! I’m surprised you didn’t PEE YOURSELFS!”

“The symmetric did,” said the monster, rubbing his head. Silver Spoon ran to his side.

“Pick, are you okay?”

“No I’m not okay, I just got kicked in the head.” A small white cloud of magic surrounded one of his teeth, emanating from a circular device in his chest plate- -which Sweetie Belle now saw was not chitinous skin but actually some kind of dark-colored armor. The tooth immediately came out, and his eyes widened.

Diamond Tiara continued to laugh, and Sweetie Belle felt herself seething with rage. Diamond Tiara had put them through a lot, especially when they were younger, but for the first time Sweetie Belle was actually considering hitting her. That is, until Scootaloo burst out laughing.

“Oh wow!” she cried. “I thought- -I thought we were going to DIE! That’s HILARIOUS!”

“Hilarious?!” cried Sweetie Belle. “How is this possibly funny?!”

“Come on, Sweetie Belle, it’s a prank! She got us good! Celestia- -this was even better than when Rainbow Dash put those snakes in my pillowcase!”

“I peed myself!”

Scootaloo serioused slightly. “Right. Right. Diamond Tiara, we are very, very disappointed…in…in…” her mouth began to waver, and her eyes began to water- -and then she broke out laughing again.

Sweetie Belle turned to Applebloom, looking to her more levelheaded friend for support. Applebloom, though, seemed somewhat ambivalent. She was much more focused on the creature who was now standing next to Silver Spoon.

“What, exactly, are you?” she asked.

“An idiot, apparently,” he said. “I don’t know why I put up with this…”

“Because you love me and would do anything I ask,” said Diamond Tiara, crossing the room and passing him a helmet that matched his armor.

“Thanks,” he said, taking the device in his magic and putting it over his head. It meshed perfectly with the edges of his armor, and there was a slight hiss as it reconnected, fully obscuring his pointed but now retracted teeth and dull green coat. “The things I’ve smelled…” He pointed at Scootaloo. “You need to take WAY more showers.” He turned his metal-clad hoof toward Sweetie Belle. “And just because perfume is on sale doesn’t mean you should buy GALLONS.”

“Hey! My perfume isn’t cheap!”

“Well, compared to Diamond Tiara’s,” said Silver Spoon, rolling her eyes.

“If it’s not cheap, you overpaid. Badly. Seriously, vanilla? VANILLA?” he feigned gagging and turned to Applebloom. “And you…you just smell like wood. Which is weird.”

Scootaloo immediately stopped laughing, and her and Sweetie Belle looked at each other. Even Diamond Tiara seemed to realize how awkward the situation had just become.

“Pick…”

“No, it’s okay,” said Applebloom. “It’s not like anypony in Ponyville doesn’t already know. I have lauralanthropy.”

“Laurel- -” Pick turned toward Diamond Tiara. “A laurelanthrope- -you made me chase a LAURELANTHROPE through this place?! The symmetric was bad enough, but HER?! And you didn’t think to WARN ME?!”

“It isn’t contagious,” said Applebloom. “You don’t have to- -”

“I’m not a moron, I know how laurelanthropy works. Putting you under all that stress- -I could have driven you into the acute phase! If I survived, I’d feel terrible for doing that to you. I’m truly sorry.”

“Acute phase?” said Applebloom. “What’s that?”

“You don’t- -no. You don’t want to know. But it’s not something you come back from.”

“How do you know all this?” asked Silver Spoon.

“Because wood from a werewoad is the rarest and most prized form of wood of Geoterra. Lord Niobus’s dial uses laurelanthrope heartwood at its core. In ancient times, my kind used to hunt yours when they went into the acute phase,” he said, turning back to Applebloom. “It’s more humane that way.”

“I’m sorry,” said Diamond Tiara, quickly, turning to Applebloom. “I didn’t know- -I didn’t want anypony to get hurt.”

“Aside from me,” muttered Pick.

“You’re a big tough stallion. Well, not exactly big, but I don’t have to worry about you.” She looked back at the Cutie Mark Crusaders. “I mean, you guys are my friends. Maybe I’m still not good at this whole friendship thing…”

“Nopony got hurt,” said Applebloom. “If anything, it gets us back for what we pulled on you on Nightmare Night.”

“I still have bad dreams about that,” said Silver Spoon, shivering.

“That one was hilarious too,” said Scootaloo. “And I heard Fluttershy’s managed to find at least sixty percent of the centipedes since then. But this was a real Celestia.”

“Celestia?” asked Diamond Tiara, confused.

“Because it really takes the cake!”

They all burst out laughing at that comment, save for Pick, who seemed to have no conception of who Celestia was. Even Sweetie Belle cracked a smile.

When the laughter died down, Diamond Tiara assumed that introductions were in order. “These three are the Cutie Mark Crusaders,” she said, explaining their identities to Pick. “Applebloom on the right, Scootaloo with the…er…interesting mane color.”

“I think it looks really nice,” noted Silver Spoon. “If it makes you feel any better, Diamond Tiara dyes- -”

“AND the ‘symmetric’ is Sweetie Belle.”

“Symmetric?” asked Sweetie Belle.

“It’s what he calls unicorns,” whispered Silver Spoon.

“Which is because ‘uni-corn’ is a stupid name for your race. No part of you is made of corn. ‘Monohorn’ would be more appropriate, but my dial translates the word for the deformity on your head as ‘symmetric’.”

“Deformity? Did you just call my horn a deformity?”

“Of course I- -no, wait, I…” he looked at Diamond Tiara. “You were right, they are exorbitantly sensitive, aren’t they?”

“And your friend there?” asked Applebloom.

“Diamond Pick,” said Diamond Tiara. “A fillyhood friend, son of my family’s primary business partner and…well…my Pony Prom date.”

The Cutie Mark Crusaders’ eyes all widened simultaneously.

“That?” said Scootaloo. “THAT is you coltfriend? Seriously?”

“And what’s wrong with that?” protested Diamond Tiara.

“Nothing,” said Applebloom. “It’s just that…well…is he even a pony?”

“Yes,” said Pick. “Yes I am, thank you very much.”

“How does your mother…you know…feel about this?” asked Sweetie Belle, being the most knowledgeable of the three about that particular part of Diamond Tiara’s life.

“She’s not happy,” said Silver Spoon.

“Spoiled will never be happy. Not until I’m some sort of model-hot mare like Sweetie Belle or you. And it isn’t my job to make her happy.”

“But Spoiled loves me,” protested Pick. “Because I’m adorable.”

“Wait, you think I’m...er… ‘model-hot’?” said Sweetie Bell, embarrassed.

“You are,” said Silver Spoon. “Actually, if you don’t have a date for the Prom…”

“Silver, focus,” said Diamond Tiara.

“Right, right,” she said, somewhat absently.

“Despite how it may seem,” said Diamond Tiara. “I didn’t ask you all up here to scare you.”

“Really?” said Sweetie Belle sarcastically.

“No. Of course not. This is actually the venue I want to use for the Prom.”

“Seriously? This place? It’s all and old!”

“It’s large, grand, and on the Canterlot historical buildings registry. It’s also a bargain for its size, which frees up a big part of the budget for the decorations.”

“A budget that your father is paying for?”

“Just because I secured some…ahem…additional funds doesn’t mean we shouldn’t use them wisely. This isn’t going to be some barn hoe-down. No offense, Applebloom.”

“It only offends me that you would think that offends me.”

“I want it to be formal, elegant, PERFECT. I don’t half-flank things.”

“Do you think we can get it cleaned up that fast?” asked Silver Spoon.

“Of course. Daddy knows a lot of cleaners, and they do good work. Really good work. They’ll have this place up and running in a week. But that’s why I asked you three here.” Diamond Tiara looked up at the group that consisted of almost all of her friends. “Applebloom, you’re the handiest pony I know. This place is historical, but it’s old. Is it too much to ask you to take a look? You don’t have to fix anything, but, you know, just make a note if anything’s really bad.”

“I’m sick, not dead,” said Applebloom. “Ahd be happy to help.”

“And Sweetie Belle, I was hoping that you could perform. I mean, if you want to. I’d hate to make you work on Prom night, but you’re kind of famous in Ponyville.”

“You mean sing? Really?”

“Just one number, if that’s- -”

“Have you seen my cutie mark? I bucking love singing. I’d be glad to. But I’ll have to check the acoustics, the performing area…which I guess is why you called me here, right?”

Diamond Tiara smiled and nodded.

“What about me?” asked Scootaloo. “I know! You want me to make this party AWESOME! Because, you know, as Rainbow Dash’s sister, that’s what I do!”

“Roof,” said Diamond Tiara. She nodded to Silver Spoon, who gave Scootaloo a spade. “The shingles here are real bad. Go strip them.”
“You mean…up on the roof? This place has like, four stories, you know that, right?”
“Don’t worry, Pick will be going with you.”

“Wait, I will?”

“You realize that neither of us can fly, right?”

“I can fly,” said Pick.

All of the ponies turned to him.

“Um…what?”

“Since when can you fly?” demanded Diamond Tiara.

“Since last year. It’s just…really awkward. Morlocks are burrowers, not flyers.”

“Can anypony else here fly?” said Scootaloo after a long moment of pause. “Just so I know?”

“I can,” said Silver Spoon.

“No you can’t,” said Diamond Tiara. She turned back to the group. “Thanks, guys. Everypony’s so busy getting ready, nopony wanted to come all the way out here to help me. I’m sorry for scaring you. Six years, and I’m still not one hundred percent on this whole ‘not being a little batch’ thing.”

“It’s okay,” said Applebloom. “We’re here to help. And I’m sorry I bucked your coltfriend.”

Silver Spoon and Scootaloo both snorted at the innuendo, and Diamond Tiara glared at Silver Spoon.

“That translated badly,” said Pick, turning the dial in the chestplate of his armor. “Could one of you explain the humorous implication? Because I don’t get it.”

“I will. Later,” said Diamond Tiara. “Once we’re back home.”

Diamond Tiara sat alone in a dusty but well-made chair at the venue’s long formal dining table. Through the large windows of the room, it was possible to see that the sun was starting to set behind the now still hemlocks outside, igniting the sky with crimson light. It was beautiful, but the fact that it had come so early in the shortening season made Diamond Tiara even more rushed and more frantic. She had forgotten to bring a crystal lantern, and did not want to have to review her notes while using Sweetie Belle as a lamp.

Strewn about the table were various documents relating to the Prom. What was concerning Diamond Tiara at this particular moment was the guest list. The venue was perfect for what she wanted, but while examining it, she had determined that the dining room was wholly inappropriate. Now, as the sun was setting, she was rushing to try to factor in a way that she could change it from one grand table to a number of smaller ones, accounting for all the ponies who would be attending including both her classmates and their dates.

The math only exacerbated Diamond Tiara’s weariness. She was already loaded down with pain medication, but her headache had been growing steadily for the last two hours. She had intended to finish reviewing the mansion by mid-afternoon, and then take her friends to Canterlot for a late lunch and to discuss their thoughts on decoration. That had not happened, though, for several reasons, the least of which was Scootaloo falling off the roof- -multiple times. Diamond Tiara had not eaten anything aside from the snacks Silver Spoon had packed her all day, and she was beginning to feel the effect of the prolonged hunger.

Diamond Tiara groaned and put her head down on the table. “Why does being perfect have to be so hard?”

There was, of course, no response- -all of her friends were at distant locations in the house. As far as Diamond Tiara knew, Silver Spoon, Applebloom, and Sweetie Belle had moved on to check the gardens while Pick and Scootaloo hopefully were managing to remain on the roof.

For a moment, Diamond Tiara’s headache spiked. She winced, and then picked up her head. Almost as soon as she did, she saw a tall and silent figure drift past the open door to the dining room. It seemed to stop, and Diamond Tiara sensed that it looked at her- -before it quickly vanished.

Diamond Tiara felt her blood run cold. The pain in her skull suddenly increased drastically, and she cried out. She reached up to her forehead and for just a moment thought she felt something there aside from her tiara. Something metal. She moved her hoof in a panic, but found that there was nothing there except for her beautiful pink- -and admittedly mildly porcine- -complexion.

Still, she stood up and walked to the door. Far down the long, straight hallway, she could a glimpse of the figure watching before it vanished around a corner. Like before, it was not clear in the dim light. Diamond Tiara could tell that it was a pony, but not much beyond that.

“Come on, guys,” she said, walking slowly down the corridor. “I get that I might have crossed the line a little with that joke, but I apologized.”

There was no response, apart from something like distant hoofteps and an odd buzz, like the kind a broken crystal lantern might sometimes make.

“And, really,” said Diamond Tiara, getting more annoyed. “Playing the same trick that I just did? Are you really that dumb?” She paused. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. Just come out.”

There was still no response, and Diamond Tiara felt herself slowing. Something felt wrong. There was almost no light in the hall, but not for lack of windows. Somehow, the sky outside had suddenly grown black without Diamond Tiara noticing. The air, likewise, had grown cold and strange. She heard the wind buffeting the house, but through the windows, saw that the hemlocks- -their needles somehow looking dark red in the dim twilight- -did not sway.

“This isn’t funny,” said Diamond Tiara, feeling her voice crack awkwardly. Unable to stop herself, she started following the trail of the figure. As she walked down the hall, Diamond Tiara noticed just how dirty it truly was. Before, it had just seemed mildly disused. Now, though, the edges of the hallway seemed to be littered with thick dust, faded and decayed trash, and fragments of stone.

“Hello?” she said, turning the corner where the figure had gone. She was now entering a part of the mansion where she had somehow never been before- -which made no sense. She had checked it several times well before the Cutie Mark Crusaders had arrived, and gone through with Sweetie Belle just a few hours before. Yet, somehow, she found herself in a new hallway.

Her sense of disease grew. This hallway was different from the others. It was dirtier, and larger, and somehow seemed so much older. The rock fragments that had littered the edges of the other hall had been replaced with much larger pieces, blocks of some strange pale stone that appeared to have been cut and carved by pony hooves long ago only to be abandoned. The air had grown damp, and Diamond Tiara smelled moss and something metallic.

“Hel…hello?” she said, edging down the slope of the hallway. “Pick, is that you? Don’t you dare try to scare me, Pick. It won’t work. I’ve seen you naked. You’re ugly, but not THAT ugly. I- -”

Diamond Tiara cried out as the figure suddenly passed within inches of her, somehow riding quickly from behind. It moved silently, and from its size, Diamond Tiara could tell that it was most definitely not Pick.

Instead of getting a clear view, though, her headache suddenly overcame her, causing her to cry out and back away both in pain and in the shock of having a pony somehow materialize out of nowhere beside her. The buzzing sound in her mind grew louder, but this time, it was followed with something else. A dull hissing that thrummed and shifted, resolving into something very similar to voices.

“No!” cried Diamond Tiara, forcing her eyes open against the pain. “You’re not going to get away from me that easily!”

She galloped ahead, jumping over the decayed tile and rotting wood of the hall, pursuing the tall figure as it drifted almost silently ahead of her. It was making noise, now, but Diamond Tiara could not hear exactly what. There was something like hoofsteps, and something like language, but both of them felt more imagined than real.

Then there was a sudden snap, like a small explosion. Diamond Tiara jumped and slid to a stop, barely avoiding falling out an open window. She looked around, confused. The sound, apparently, had been from the unsecured window frame slamming shut in the wind. Looking out the window, though, Diamond Tiara saw that she was on the second floor of the house- -when before, she had been on the first.

Behind her, the hallway was now different. It was one she definitely recognized, and though dusty, there was no debris on the floor. Nor was that branch of the hallway more than ten feet long, when before it had seemed to go for miles.

“What the…what in Luna’s name?” said Diamond Tiara, rubbing her head. The pain had mostly subsided, replaced with a dull ache that was pleasurable in comparison to the migraine of before. “What the buck just happened?”

She looked around, still trying to grasp how she had gotten to the next floor, when she saw something. She reached down and picked up a small object from the floor: a feather. At first, she thought that it could only mean that Scootaloo was the culprit- -until the dim light of the setting sun revealed that the feather was a deep salmon in color. Scootaloo was orange, and did not even have pink in her gaudy dyed mane. Likewise, this feather was far too long to have come from her puny, flightless wings.

For a moment, Diamond Tiara wondered if it could have come from Pick, but quickly dismissed that idea. Although he did indeed have wings, she had spent quite a bit of time inspecting them and knew that they were more of calcified plates than actual flight appendages. He had no feathers, and most definitely not pinkish ones.

“I must be hungrier than I thought,” said Diamond Tiara, dropping the long feather and looking out the open window. Then she turned to go back to where she had been, and almost ran directly into Diamond Pick.

“Gah!” he cried in surprise. Almost as soon as he called out, his wings extended and he took off, buzzing into the ceiling and several walls, crying out in panic the whole time.

“Pick- -what- -calm down! Stop that!”

“Do you think this is VOLUNTARY!” he yelled, bumping off the ceiling before finally landing on his back and spiraling for a moment before stopping. He stood up quickly, trying to straighten his wings and disguise what had just happened. “Don’t just stand in the dark like that! I mean, those EYES! I thought I was about to die!”

“What’s wrong with my eyes?”

“Only the fact that they’re so large that they no doubt consume most of your brain case.” Pick stood tall- -comparatively; he was not much taller than Diamond Tiara- -and tried to pretend that nothing had happened.

Diamond Tiara eyed him for a moment, and then burst out laughing. “You- -you fly like a cockroach!”

“I do not!” squeaked Pick, taken aback by the comparison. “It- -it’s an instinctive reaction! You startled me!”

“Oh wow- -at least you fly better than Scootaloo!”

“You have no idea how embarrassing this is!” said Pick, pulling off his mask and looking up at Diamond Tiara. He was blushing. “It’s bad enough thinking about you makes me chirp, now this- -”

“Wait,” said Diamond Tiara. “You chirp when you think about me?”

Pick blushed even harder. “No.” He was silent for barely two seconds when is wings immediately vibrated, releasing a stifled, cricket-like chirp.

Diamond Tiara smiled, blushing somewhat herself. “Well. I guess it makes sense. I mean, look at me.”

“That’s kind of causing the problem.”

Diamond Tiara laughed and poked Pick in the arm. “Hey, if I had wings, they’d probably chirp for you too.”

“Female morlocks don’t do that…but…I appreciate the thought.”

“So, is the roof done?”

“As done as it is going to get. I don’t know what a ‘Rainbow Dash’ is, but if I have to hear one more story about it I will throw the Scootaloo off the roof a third time. I don’t know why I couldn’t just use the drone for it.”

“Because you’re supposed to make friends. That, and because I want you to be at least as muscular as Silver Spoon. Some exercise wouldn’t hurt, you know.”

“Try to keep your expectations realistic, Diamond.” His silver eyes glinted across the room, finally coming to rest on the window. “Wow. That’s a nice view, isn’t it.”

“Yeah,” said Diamond Tiara. “I guess it is.”

Without any prompting, the two of them sat down at the edge of the window and stared out at the final moments of the sunset, where the brightness of the sun faded and the horizon momentarily became a dull but massive rainbow. They stayed so long that Luna’s moon began to rise, and the stars became apparent. Pick watched them in awe; having spent most of his life underground, the sky always amazed him. Eventually he leaned against Diamond Tiara. The thermal units in his suit felt warm against the cold night air, and Diamond Tiara leaned back.

Diamond Tiara could not focus on the view, though, nor on the colt who she had come to care for. Instead, she could not remove her gaze from the single salmon colored feather lying on the floor beside them.