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God’s Hand

by fourths

First published

A giant stone hand protrudes from the ground in the centre of Ponyville. Meanwhile, for the ponies that live there, life goes on as it always has.

A giant stone hand protrudes from the ground in the centre of Ponyville. Meanwhile, for the ponies that live there, life goes on as it always has.

Inspired by Hot Sugar’s God’s Hand, shortskirtsandexplosions’ =BIG= =DUMB= =OBJECT=, Nichijou, and, of course, living life to the fullest.
Preread by the lovely Nonchalant, and I made FloydienSlip take a look-see at the first chapter a few months ago to confirm that yes, this is weird.

Trauma

Author's Notes:

God’s Hand

(orta recens quam pura nites)


Friday

It was a beautiful morning in Ponyville, just like any other—except for the fact that there was a giant stone Object sticking up from the ground in the centre of Town Square. Yet the ponies didn’t let it bother them. At the crack of dawn, when the sun rays were just barely over the horizon, Applejack and Carrot Top were already on the fringes of the square, setting up their stalls so as to be prepared for the early morning market rush. And once they were finished setting up their stalls, they stood and waited, each with a bleary-eyed younger assistant in tow.

That’s not to say they didn’t notice the gigantic, blocky protrusions that seemed to reach so desperately from the soil. Apple Bloom in particular was very interested in the way the rough surface had pushed aside the dirt and clay as if it were nothing, extending what appeared to be fingertips towards the heavens. But she dared not abandon her position at the stall, lest she face a verbal lashing from her sister.

As the morning rolled around, other ponies started to make their way out of their houses and notice the anomaly. Nopony made a huge fuss, or ran around shouting about it; rather, there was just a hushed murmuring that filled the air, as friends turned to each other to discuss the Object. It wasn’t until a purple alicorn finally emerged from her castle sometime not long before noon that anypony decided to truly ask about it.

As she trotted down the path from her castle into town, Twilight Sparkle could see a small crowd had gathered in Town Square. It was perhaps a bit larger than usual, but the oddest thing about it wasn’t its size; it was that the ponies remained motionless, all staring at… something. Twilight flapped her wings, lifting up to get a better look.

And that was the first time she saw the Object. Her mouth hung open and her wings stopped beating for just a moment—yet that was all the excuse gravity needed to bring the princess back down to the ground, tumbling onto her face. Twilight picked herself up, shook the dirt off, and then galloped up to the edge of the crowd.

“Hey!” Cloud Kicker exclaimed as Twilight stepped on her tail.

Daisy winced, falling to the side as Twilight’s wing rammed into her. “Watch it!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Twilight hastily apologised, though she didn’t slow down. “Princess coming through! I need to see this up close!”

A wave of groaning washed through the crowd, but eventually Twilight made it to the front and everypony could stop getting injured by her clumsiness. However, as Twilight soon discovered, getting a closer look at the Object didn’t immediately reveal anything that a glance from far away didn’t: it was a massive monument made of inky black stone, and it looked like it had just gone and erupted from the earth that night. The surface of the thing was rough, not smooth; although the shape was obviously unnatural by the contours of the rock, it didn’t look like much care had been put into hewing or finishing it.

Twilight blinked, and then she turned around. “Do any of you have any idea what this is?” She waited a few moments, but there were only noncommittal grunts in reply. Sighing, she went on: “Okay, who were the first ponies out here, then?”

“It was me ’n’ Applejack, Your Grace,” came Carrot Top’s voice from the back.

“Just Twilight will do,” Twilight said, a hint of irritation creeping into her voice. “Alright, thank you. Could the rest of you ponies please clear out, unless you have information relating to this… this thing? I’ve got important work to do here.”

Only a few ponies in the crowd even budged, and most of those that did try to move could not on account of the fact that the ponies around them remained still. Barely anypony had even been looking when Twilight had made her decree; they were still too focused on the Object. “Please!” Twilight almost shouted, but only a few more ponies jerked their heads towards her. The edges of the crowd began to thin—much like Twilight’s patience.

“Don’t make me use the Royal Canterlot Voice!” she shouted, even louder, in a tone that verged on the very one she had threatened to use. This seemed to get most of the ponies’ attention, luckily, as the crowd suddenly dispersed, even more quickly than it had coalesced but an hour or two earlier.

“It’s a good thing ya showed these folks not ta incur yer wrath,” Applejack said with a grin as she approached through the now-empty square. “Can’t say I’ve ever seen a crowd clear that quick.”

“Definitely impressive work,” Carrot Top added. She was right behind Applejack, but her expression was more glum. “I guess that’s why you’re a princess and stuff.”

Twilight cleared her throat.

Applejack rolled her eyes. “If Celestia wanted a princess all boisterous-like, she’d’a just picked Rainbow Dash.”

“Ahem,” Twilight said, frowning.

“What d’ya want us for?” Applejack eyed the alicorn carefully. “Something ’bout this big hunk a’ rock here?”

“It was already here when we got here,” Carrot Top mumbled.

“Is that true?” Twilight eyed each farmpony carefully, leaning in and squinting as if that could somehow allow her to better see through any untruths they might tell.

“Sure as sun-up, sugarcube.” Applejack trotted over to the side of the Object and, letting her hat slide to the ground, leaned against it with her shoulder. “It’s a bit strange, but I think it makes a mighty fine monument, don’t you?”

“D-Don’t touch it!” Twilight exclaimed, her eyes wide in horror. “You don’t know what could happen! We don’t know where it came from, or how it got here!”

Carrot Top coughed. “Um, she’s already touching it. Wouldn’t something have happened by now?”

“You never know!” Twilight exclaimed. “It could be slow-acting! Quick, let’s get you under quarantine back at the castle!”

Applejack looked confused, but shrugged. “If you insist. Apple Bloom, watch the stand for me!” Once the red-maned filly shot her a salute, Applejack started after Twilight, who was already halfway across the square.

“Oh, and Carrot Top?” Twilight called, just as she was rounding the hill. “Can you watch the rock… thingie for me?”

“Uhhh…” Carrot Top uhhh’d.

“Thanks! Knew I could count on you! Just don’t let anypony touch it!”

Carrot Top gulped, and duly nodded—even though Twilight Sparkle was already out of sight. “Can’t be too hard… right?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she suddenly felt dozens of pairs of eyes settle on her—and the Object she was guarding. A bead of sweat formed on her forehead and, as she stood there, Carrot Top trembled in her horseshoes. The eyes blinked.


Less than a dozen metres away, one such pair of eyes—golden, like honey—watched the scene from out a shop window. They moved back and forth from Carrot Top to the other ponies, and even over to the hill Twilight had just disappeared over.

“Do you think it’s still called the Royal Canterlot Voice if we’re in Ponyville?” A pause. “I guess it could be the Royal Ponyville Voice, but that doesn’t have the same ring to it. Maybe—”

Lyra was interrupted by the blinds shuttering down and snapping closed, almost in one fluid motion. She jerked her head back, surprised. “Hey! I was watching that!”

“It’s no use—we already know Twilight’s probably closing the square again,” Bon Bon grumbled. “Just like when the dryads flooded the streets when Fluttershy was in Fillydelphia. And that was for days...”

“That doesn’t mean you had to close the blinds,” Lyra complained, her face turned down in a fuzzy mint-green pout. “I could be missing stuff…”

“Honestly, it’s like that pony doesn’t have any idea what closing down the town does to local businesses around here!” Bon Bon went on, ignoring Lyra as usual. “Even one day means a loss of more than a hundred bits, and that’s not even to mention the goods I have to throw out because they go stale!”

“If you need help with the extra, I think I know somepony who could help with that.” Lyra waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Bon Bon shot her an angry look, but said nothing.

“It’s m—” Lyra started, but was cut off by a stamp of Bon Bon’s hoof.

“I know it’s you!” the earth pony shouted. “And I don’t give a flying feather! This is serious!”

Lyra stepped back nervously. “Whoa, whoa… I know it is, babe. I’m really sorry. You know how I am—I just try and make jokes to lighten the mood a little…”

Bon Bon put a hoof to her forehead. “Yes, yes… I’m sorry, Lyra. I know I’ve got a bit of a temper, and some... bad stuff is going on, but that’s no excuse to be short with you like that. I’m just… I’m just worried, that’s all.”

“I know you are,” Lyra said, nodding. She stepped up to Bon Bon’s side, and wrapped her in a big hug. “But we’re going to get through this, okay? Even if Twilight closes the square for a day, a week, or a month.”

“A month?!” Bon Bon was bug-eyed. “Oh, Celestia… do you think she would do such a thing?”

“N-No,” Lyra quickly stammered. “No way!”

Bon Bon nodded, but this didn’t look to have allayed any of her concerns. “You’re probably right… oh, but what if she does? Lyra… I hate to say this, but you might actually have to get a job.”

Lyra blinked. “Wh-what? But I have a job!”

“No, a real job,” Bon Bon replied with a sigh. “You helping me here isn’t going to be much help if nopony’s coming by to buy things.”

Lyra went pale. “I… I could work more with Vinyl, and maybe we could make a record…?”

Bon Bon hummed. “I was thinking more something like the music store. You know, with Noteworthy? I bet with your experience, you could—”

“Look, Bonnie,” Lyra interrupted. Her expression was panicked, and her eyes seemed like they couldn’t settle on any one thing. “Twilight’s a reasonable pony, and we’ve known each other since we were fillies. If it comes down to her shutting down the square for more than a day, then I will personally go talk with her and make sure she realises the impact that that’d have.”

Bon Bon smirked. “Thanks, honey. I’d really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, sure,” Lyra grumbled in reply. “Anything for my Bonnie.”

“I’m going to go to the back room and figure out what I can salvage from today’s stock,” Bon Bon announced, gesturing towards the door in the back of the shop. “I don’t think anypony’s gonna come in today, so I can close the shop and you can come help me.” She paused, appearing to be mulling something over. “And if there’s anything I can’t save… well, you can choose a few things.”

Lyra grinned. “Huzzah!”

“I want to save something for Vinyl and Tavi, though,” Bon Bon continued. “The flowers they brought over the other night were absolutely marvellous, and I’d love to be able to do something for them in return. Anyway…” The mare stepped towards the door. “You coming?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Lyra said. “I’ll catch up with you, and I’ll flip the sign on my way.”

Bon Bon nodded. “Thanks, dear. See you in a moment.”

Once her marefriend was out of the room and the door was shut, Lyra’s neutral expression slid into a mischievous grin. She waited a few moments before slinking back over to the windows and putting her eyes up to the blinds. “Nopony tells me what to do,” Lyra whispered to herself, and though she knew she was being silly, she proceeded to lift a blind up with her hooftip…

...and came face to face with a lavender muzzle, squinting in. Lyra jumped back in surprise, landing with a loud thump on the floor.

“Everything alright in there?” Bon Bon’s called from the other room.

“Erm… yeah, I’m fine,” Lyra grunted. “Just… slipped.” Wincing, the unicorn stood up and stepped over to the door. With a burst of her magic, the handle turned and the door swung open.

Standing in the doorway was a confused-looking Cloud Kicker, eyeing Lyra as if she didn’t know what else to do.

“...Can I help you?” Lyra asked.

“Um… you guys are open, right?” Cloud Kicker asked. “It says so on the sign, but the blinds are closed and it looks deader than a dodo in here.”

Lyra sighed, and threw her head over her shoulder. “Bon Bon! Customer!”

“What?!” Bon Bon shouted. “Really?!”

Lyra put her head in her hooves. “I’m not messing with you, I swear! Are we open, or—?”

The door in the back burst open, cutting Lyra off. Before the unicorn could blink, a cream flash bounded through the room, sending the blinds up to the ceiling and flicking on the light switch.

“O-of course we are,” Bon Bon managed between breaths, having skidded to a halt in the centre of the shop. “Why wouldn’t we be? It’s a Friday morning, for Cookie’s sake!”

Lyra just grinned, and stepped back to allow Cloud Kicker to enter the store. She shimmied off to a corner, watching the pegasus as she stepped up to the counter and selected a doughnut—for breakfast, no doubt. Once Cloud Kicker had paid and left, Lyra let out a sigh of relief. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Lyra! Get your lazy butt to the back room and get the next batch out of the oven!” Bon Bon barked. “I’ve got to work the counter, so I need your help.”

“Aw, but Bonnie… I’m your marefriend,” Lyra pleaded. “Can’t I… take a break?”

“Before you’ve even started?” Bon Bon countered, raising an eyebrow. “You may be my marefriend, but you’re also my assistant—and a particularly inept one at that. Please.”

Lyra sighed, and sauntered off towards the door on the back wall. Bon Bon glared at her the whole way but said nothing more, and by the time Lyra was out of the room, a few more ponies had already entered the shop.

“And what’ll you be having on this fine morning?”


It was after noon by the time Twilight Sparkle made it back to the market square. She was pulling a large cart harnessed to her back, and though its contents were neatly covered by a blue plastic tarp, anypony walking by would have noticed that there was a loud jostling and clanging with every step she took. All she could do was hope that nopony was there to notice.

And, of course, there were ponies all around her, for it was the centre of town and, on top of that, there was a new and mysterious Object looming over them all. As Twilight trotted up through the ponies milling about, the air filled with a quiet murmuring. All of them had the same question in mind, but only one was brave enough to voice it.

“Hey Twilight!” Rainbow Dash’s voice called from above. Twilight looked up to see the pegasus reclining on a fluffy white cloud, lackadaisically splayed out across its surface.

“Uh… hi, Rainbow!” Twilight replied. “How are you today?”

“Pretty snazzy!” Rainbow rolled over, and her face became visible. “So… what’s up with the big claw thingie?”

Twilight blinked. “Claw?”

“Yeah, you know.” Rainbow Dash pointed to the Object. “Kinda hard to miss.”

“Oh, the Object,” Twilight said with a nod. “I’m… not sure yet. That’s where I’m headed with all this stuff, though. I’m determined to find out.”

“Cool beans.” Rainbow shrugged. “Well, okay. Just wanted to make sure you knew about it, I guess. Lemme know if you find anything cool.”

Twilight was about to reply, but Rainbow’s wings were already abuzz and she sped through the sky away from the square, leaving a faint rainbow-coloured trail in her wake. Twilight sighed, and turned back to the Object.

“Carrot Top!” Twilight exclaimed, upon seeing the orange-maned earth pony standing there. “I forgot I told you to guard for me!”

“...Yeah, I kind of figured,” Carrot replied, rolling her eyes. “You didn’t tell me this was going to take hours. I mean, Potato Peel’s doing a fine job managing the stand, but I’m worried that she and Apple Bloom might be up to no good.”

Twilight glanced over at Applejack’s and Carrot Top’s stands just in time to see the two fillies standing in front. They both spat on their hooves before shaking them, determinedly. “I see what you mean,” Twilight said, turning back to Carrot. “Don’t worry, though—I can take it from here. You made sure nopony else touched it, though, right?”

“It was pretty hard, but yeah,” Carrot said. “Well, okay. Good luck with… um… whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Thanks!” Twilight replied cheerily, and she watched Carrot Top walk off. Then, with aplomb and no further hesitation, she unharnessed the cart from her back and began the arduous task of unloading its contents out onto the dirt—all the while doing her best to ignore the small audience she had accrued.

Raining Blood

Author's Notes:

God’s Hand

(gutta cavat lapidem)


Saturday

The Hooves household was strangely empty on that Saturday morning, the day after the Object appeared. Upstairs, not a pony could be seen trotting about, even though the curtains had been drawn open and the sunlight was shining through the windows. And in the bedrooms, the beds lay empty, and the sheets were tucked in firmly at the sides—unused for days or more. No, there was nopony in the main body of the house.

Yet if somepony were to have stood in the foyer or the living room, they would have heard the sound of something moving beneath them. The sound of metal on metal, of hooves moving carefully across the ground, of things occasionally falling to the ground followed by a short bout of cursing.

For down the rickety wooden stairs and into what appeared to be a large concrete bunker, a tall brown earth pony was hard at work. The centre of the room was covered in a big blue tarp which held some sort of half-built structure of metal, and the space and worktables that lined the walls seemed to be filled with… more parts.

The brown earth pony was standing in front of a mirror, gazing at his reflection. His eyes—no matter how hard he tried to stop them—kept darting towards the one gold ring at his ear lobe. He lifted a hoof to touch it—but before he got there, he lowered it and leaned down to pick up a screwdriver between his teeth.

He trotted over to another workbench, and his eyes traced the edges of a small contraption that sat there, just below eye level. A moment later, his eyes lit up in realisation and the pony reached forward with his screwdriver, pointing it at one of the screws. He tried to turn the screwdriver once, twice, three times—but it simply didn’t want to budge.

“Hmm?” He spat the screwdriver out onto the workbench with an odd sound, and then used his hoof to flip it around. Then, a sigh. “Of course I had to grab the wrong one… ugh, I don’t even know if I have a Fillyps head this small… or maybe in the kitchen…?”

Grumbling, the stallion turned away and shimmied between the piles of junk and crud until he reached the hoof of the stairs.

He hadn’t even gotten to the second step before, as fate and circumstances would have it, he was given another reason to go up the stairs: a sharp knock on the front door.

“Coming!” he cried out, and he quickened his pace. A few of the boards seemed to bend down as his hooves touched down on them, but since none broke he didn’t have the time to worry about them.

By the time the stallion reached the door, he was gasping for air. He took a moment in the foyer to compose himself, and then—

Another knock!

The stallion sighed, and pulled the door open. Immediately he had to squint; the light was so very, very bright. He shook his head quickly, trying to regain his vision.

“Good morning, Doctor!” came a chipper voice from in front of him. Squinting, he was able to make out a yellow coat and a bushy orange mane.

“C-Carrot Top!” he exclaimed. “What brings you by at this hour?”

As Carrot’s form began to take shape in his field of view, Doctor Whooves could see she was raising an eyebrow. “It’s nearly ten.” She leaned forward, eyeing the stallion. “Did… did I wake you up? You look awful.”

“Heh, thanks,” Whooves said, rolling his eyes. “No, I’ve just been working. Got a few new projects in the works, and I’m hoping I can have something to show for it by the time the Summer Sun Celebration rolls around.”

“Ooh, I’m curious to see what you’ve got this time.” Carrot smiled, but then her expression turned grim. “Hey, I couldn’t by any chance ask a favour of you, could I?”

“Oh, of course,” Whooves replied. “I’ve been needing to stretch my legs, anyway.”

“Wonderful. Could you meet me down by Carrot Ranch in… oh, about half an hour?”

Whooves nodded. “I’ll be there.”

Smiling, Carrot turned and started to walk away. “Thank you! And please say hi to Derpy for me!”

Whooves blinked. “R-Right.” He closed the door, latch quietly clicking into place. The room once more was dark.

He stood in the foyer for several minutes, finally feeling at his ear with his hoof. Sighing, he used a divot in his hoof to rotate the gold metal until the ring came off. He stepped back into the living room to set the thing on top of a cabinet—next to a spare key, so he knew it couldn’t go missing. Then, after one last look, he turned back towards the stairs. Carrot Top hadn’t been specific about what she needed, so he’d have to come prepared.


Doctor Whooves’ mouth lay agape.

“It sure is a sight, ain’t it?” A laugh followed as Carrot Top trotted up beside the stallion. “I don’t know where they came from—they just showed up this morning like they’d always been here.”

As Carrot had said, the thick, churning mass of deep grey clouds looked like it had always been there—and that it always would be. But two odd things stood out about it. For one, the clouds only rolled out to the edges of Carrot Ranch, ending abruptly at the fence that marked the border of their property. The other strange thing was that the liquid pouring from the sky was red.

Whooves’ eyes were wide, gazing into the fray. “Just like that, huh?”

“Yep.” Carrot sighed. “At least it’s not what I thought it was at first, or else everything woulda really been ruined.”

Whooves stepped forward, stretching out a hoof. A thick drop of sticky liquid splashed down onto his coat, and he shuddered. Stepping back, he gave his hoof an experimental lick. “P-Punch?”

“You got it,” Carrot replied. “Which still ain’t good for the crops, but I was worried it was gonna be… well…”

“Blood,” Whooves affirmed, and Carrot nodded her head. Whooves looked down, watching the red liquid trickle down the stony path that led to the farmhouse. “And your sister? You’ve got her out of the house?”

“Yeah, I sent her to the Apples’ for the day. Told her I’d get this all resolved.” Carrot laughed nervously. “You can fix this, can’t you?”

Doctor Whooves hummed. “Most likely. I’m… just not quite sure how yet.”

“I’m sure you’ve got to have some crazy contraption or something...” Carrot looked to Whooves, pleading with her eyes.

“...We’ll see,” Whooves said, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “Hrm.” He listened as the pitter-pat of punch raining on the farmhouse resounded all through the fields. “How come you asked me and not a weatherpony, anyhow?”

“Most of them are off at a meeting with the Department of Weather up in Cloudsdale,” Carrot explained, “and the only pony they left behind is…”

“Rainbow Dash?” Whooves cut in, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Carrot said, “and she’s impossible to find.”

Whooves nodded. “Yes, I can see that. I suppose I should go find some help, no?”

“S-So you can’t do it by yourself?” Carrot asked. “I don’t know if I’ll have the bits to pay oth—”

“Oh, no, no bits required,” Whooves replied, cutting her off. “This is just a gesture of goodwill, from one neighbour to another.”

“You live clear across town,” Carrot deadpanned.

Whooves just smiled weakly. “See you in a few?”

“Yeah. I’ll just be at Sweet Apple Acres for a while, but it shouldn’t be long until I’m back.”

With that, the two ponies parted ways, each taking a different direction down the long dirt path. Each hoofstep sent a small burst of dust billowing up from the ground, nigh on mirroring the voluminous clouds above Carrot’s farm.


“You sure this isn’t your doing?”

Whooves was seated in Fluttershy’s cottage on one side of a small table in the living room. Across from him was the butter yellow pegasus, sipping at a cup of tea, and something that was much, much taller than either of them. Discord’s snake-like body bent up towards the ceiling, forcing him to shift his neck down so he could join them. Still, he seemed to be enjoying himself—even though he had turned his teacup into a Klein bottle and consequently was having some difficulty with drinking the tea.

“Of course I’m sure,” Discord replied in that sarcastic tone he always used, except when speaking with Fluttershy. “I’ve already done the whole clouds-raining-odd-liquid thing, and I assure you that I am not a one-trick pony. Nor a one-trick draconequus, for that matter.”

Whooves bit his lip. “But this has your name all over it…”

Discord laughed. “You said it was punch, didn’t you? My clouds rain chocolate milk. The two beverages are hardly alike; I’m not sure how you could confuse them.”

Whooves facehoofed. “Fluttershy? Do you know if Discord did this?”

Discord frowned and crossed his arms, but said nothing. The Klein bottle fell to the floor and shattered into a smattering of tiny Möbius strips.

Fluttershy took another sip of her tea. “Mmm… I’m not sure,” she replied in her usual soft tone. “I’m sure that Discord would have told us if he did, though.” She turned to her tablemate. “Wouldn’t you?”

Discord just rolled his eyes. “Well… maybe.” Fluttershy glared at him, and he twitched. “Alright, fine! Yes, of course I’d tell you! Tartarus above…”

Whooves took one last gulp of his tea. “Thanks for talking to me, anyway. I’ve got to run, but I hope the day finds you well.” Setting the teacup down, the stallion hopped up from his seat and trotted over to the door.

“Mare, that stallion’s annoying,” Discord grumbled.

“I’m still in the room.”

“I know,” Discord replied, “and I was hoping you would leave it.”

Whooves shrugged, and walked out the door.

“Oh, Discord, don’t be so mean,” Fluttershy rebuked him—or at least as much as she could without raising her voice. “You know he’s only trying to help Carrot.”

“He could’ve asked me for help, instead of jumping to conclusions,” Discord replied. He was absentmindedly drumming a couple of his claws on the table and looking to the floor where the tiny glass pieces sat, strewn about beside his feet. His nostrils flared.

Fluttershy said nothing, instead opting to take another sip of tea.


As Doctor Whooves entered Ponyville proper, the sky was bright and blue and the birds chirped from the trees. He did not like this. The ponies walking by him, more and more as he got further into town, didn’t help at all either; when Whooves was working on solving something, he preferred complete silence. But that couldn’t be helped, at least not then.

“Hmmm…” he hummed aloud. “Should I talk to a unicorn, perhaps? Maybe Princess Twilight, if she’s available?”

The answer to this question, however, became immediately clear once Whooves reached the centre of town. The plaza had always been the busiest place, given how many storefronts and domiciles lined its edges, but on that day it seemed busier than ever. Yet, oddly enough, the ponies were mostly sticking to one area; while they were all over the storefronts, nary a pony was anywhere near the centre.

Nopony except one, that is. The form of the purple alicorn was distinct even from a distance, standing nearly a head taller than anypony else around. What’s more, she seemed to be working on some sort of device, wires running from a metal box up to the large black stone that towered over her.

As he approached, Whooves’ eyes wandered along the edge of the plaza. Ponies coming out of shops would pause and whisper to their companions or even complete strangers as they walked by—all after staring at the stone behemoth.

“Good morning, Time Turner!” Twilight Sparkle’s voice called, and Whooves turned to see she was waving at him. When the mare had first arrived to town, Whooves had joked that his name was ‘Time Turner’, based on his cutie mark—and nobody ever had the heart to correct Twilight.

“Morning, Princess,” Whooves said, nodding his head. “What have you got here?”

Twilight scratched her head. “I’m… not quite sure yet, actually. This… thing apparently just came out of the ground yesterday morning, so now I’m trying to figure out what it is and why it appeared here, of all places.”

“Hmm…” Whooves looked up and down at the stone. “Looks kind of like a claw, don’t you think?”

“Perhaps,” Twilight said, pursing her lips. “I can’t be certain, though. Anyway, what brings you ’round here?”

Doctor Whooves looked confused for a moment, and then he blinked in realisation. “Oh, right! I was wondering if you perhaps could help with an… issue down on Carrot Top’s farm? She came to me for help, but I think it would be a lot easier for someone who’s more magically-inclined.”

Twilight looked from Whooves to the button-filled panel on top of the metal box beside her. “Um, maybe? What’s the problem?”

“There are strange clouds overhead, very thick and distinctly unnatural in formation,” Whooves explained quite matter-of-factly, “and they are raining fruit punch.”

“Have you tried asking Discord?” Twilight giggled. “Or maybe Pinkie Pie?”

“I already talked to Discord, and he said it’s not his doing,” Whooves grumbled. “And Carrot said that all of the weatherponies are out of town, so… I guess I don’t quite know what to do now.”

Twilight tapped her chin with a hoof. “Yeah, I’m not sure that I can help you. I might have a lot of magical power, but… did you see Rarity when I accidentally switched our cutie marks and she had to do Rainbow’s job? I’d be like that, but… without any sort of pattern. Clouds are surprisingly hard to hold onto, let alone move—even with alicorn magic. And I’m really not practiced with weather work, unfortunately.”

Whooves’ face fell. “Well, thanks anyway. I guess I’ll see if I have a contraption I can cook up, maybe cannibalise some parts from one project…”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Aren’t you forgetting someone?”

“What do you mean?” Whooves asked.

“Just because all of the current weatherponies are out of town doesn’t mean there isn’t anyone who used to be a weatherpony.”

Whooves blinked. “Oh… yeah, you’re… you’re right.”

Twilight merely smiled. “Honestly, I’m surprised that you didn’t ask her in the first place. She’s—” The mare stopped suddenly, giving Doctor Whooves an odd look. He could see her eyes dart up to his ear, to the empty space. “Wait, aren’t you? I could have sworn—”

“It’s... complicated,” Whooves breathed. “It sounds like I have a pony to talk to, though, and you”—he glanced over at the stone—“look even busier than I. A good day to you, Princess, and thanks for your help.”

“You can just call me Twilight!” the alicorn called after him as he walked away. If Doctor Whooves had heard her, he didn’t show any sign of it. Twilight let out a sigh, and turned back to her work.


“You’ve got to face your feelings, old fellow. You’ve got to talk to her, and make things right.” Hoofsteps on gravel, moving back and forth in a dim alleyway. “You’ve got to help Carrot Top, and this is really the only way. She’ll say yes, if even just for Carrot. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Whooves gulped. Still, he finally broke out of his back-and-forth line and trotted a half a block down the sidewalk until he reached the steps of a small storefront, packed in between two apartment buildings. ‘Equestrian Postal Service’ read the familiar sign above the door. Whooves took a breath as he stepped up the stairs and pushed the glass door in.

A spine-tingling breath of frigid air hit his coat, but he walked onward. The whole place was as small and homey as he remembered—a tattered couch on one wall, stamps from all over the world on another, and a short line of disgruntled ponies in front of the counter. A few ponies he recognised, but not their names—he never had been good with names.

But there was one pony in there whose name and face he could never forget, not even if he wanted to. She stood on the other side of the counter, talking quickly to the first pony in line and pointing towards a few rows of numbers that were printed on the countertop. Her navy blue apron and cap complemented her grey coat and blonde mane as well as they did the first day Whooves saw her.

Unsure what to do—and figuring he couldn’t just push his way to the front of the line—the stallion trotted over to the couch and plopped himself down. Despite the tears in the upholstery and the foam sticking out in large patches, the thing was actually more comfortable than most Whooves had had the displeasure of becoming acquainted with. Then, he waited.

Watching, and waiting. The clock ticked by above him, but he didn’t care to crane his neck out just to read the time; knowing it wouldn’t make it go any faster. So instead Doctor Whooves watched as the mare behind the counter stamped envelopes, weighed parcels, and punched digits into a computer machine. He’d seen her do this dozens of times before, sure, but after so long… there was an enthralling, droning repetition of it all. Calming, even, and he could feel his eyelids begin to droop.

“Doctor!” he heard somepony call, and his eyes snapped open. He was met with two yellow eyes right up close in his face, and a lock of yellow hair was tickling his nose. As soon as the mare noticed he was listening, she pulled back a bit.

“G’morning, Derpy,” Whooves mumbled. He looked down to his hooves, avoiding her gaze. “How’ve you been doing?”

“Just peachy,” Derpy said, cheerily. Whooves looked up. There really wasn’t a trace of sadness in her voice, or in her expression; she just looked happy to see him. “And how are your inventions coming along?”

“Mmm…” Whooves hummed. “Somewhere less than peachy, but at least above plummy.”

Derpy let out a girlish giggle. “You always know what to say, Doctor. I’m glad to have you around, yanno? Really a light in my life.”

Whooves blinked. “R-Really? But I thought…?”

“Shh…” Derpy put a hoof to his lips. “Look… I know that I was mad at you. And I know we both said awful, terrible things we regret. But that’s just it, isn’t it? We regret being mean, and that’s what makes us nice ponies.”

“I mean…” Whooves started, but then trailed off. “Hrm.”

“It’s in the past now,” Derpy continued, “and although it happened, and it hurts, we just have to move on.” She booped him on the nose. “Is that okay with you?”

“Y-Yeah,” Whooves stammered. “That’d be… great.”

“Perfect!” Derpy grinned. “Now, what brings you here, anyway?”

“Oh, right!” Whooves cleared his throat. “I was asked by Carrot Top to get help clearing some rogue clouds by her farm, and I figured you’re the best mare for the job.”

Derpy nodded. “Since all the better weatherponies are out of town, right?”

“No, no, not like that, I just—”

Derpy stuck her tongue out. “It’s fine, silly. I’d love to help. Ready to go?”

“Sure thing,” Whooves replied. He stood up from the couch.

“Hey, what about us?” called one of the ponies still waiting in line in front of the counter.

“Yeah!” called another

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back in a jiffy!” Derpy exclaimed. Before she could hear out any further objections, she had grabbed Doctor Whooves’ foreleg and pulled him out the door. “Alley-oop!”


“We’re going the wrong way!” Doctor Whooves exclaimed. Derpy’s forelegs were wrapped tight around his torso as the pair of them flew together.

“Stop shouting, or I’ll drop ya!” Derpy giggled. “But isn’t this the right way? You said Parrot Top, right?”

Carrot Top!” Whooves snarled. “The only one around here. You know, your friend from college?”

“Ohhhh! Right!” They lurched rightwards suddenly, and Derpy pulled a very narrow U-turn in the sky. Whooves closed his eyes tight, and he was suddenly very happy he’d skipped breakfast that day.

A few minutes passed, and Whooves could feel the breeze nipping at his coat. With his eyes closed, though, it almost felt like Derpy was just hugging him as they lay on the grass in a park, on a picnic. He let that image fill his mind, focusing on the red and white checkered squares…

“We’re here! Braaaace for landing!”

Whooves barely had time to open his eyes and steady his hooves before Derpy glided them straight down into a pile of hay with a loud thunk, sending hay up into the air.

“Ungh…” Whooves groaned as he stood. “Rough landing…”

“I thought it was fine,” Derpy said, wearing her usual grin. “So, where’s this problem?”

“Up there,” came a voice from behind them. Whooves turned to see Carrot Top making her way down the path from Sweet Apple Acres. “Good timing, Doctor. And I see you’ve brought your lovely wife…?”

“Aw, don’t make me blush. I’m just here to help!”

Carrot Top raised an eyebrow. “Erm… no offense, Derpy, but I’m not sure what you can do what the Doctor can’t, at least not here.”

“Watch and learn, sister. Watch and learn.” Derpy bent her knees and before Carrot and Whooves knew what was going on, she jumped up and flapped her wings speeding off into the sky. Nowhere near as fast as Rainbow Dash, of course, but still nothing to shake a stick at. Carrot and Whooves looked on in awe as the grey blur spun around in the sky. Her hooves reached out, batting at the clouds to make them dissipate. One by one the clouds vanished, creating bigger and bigger patches of blue sky. Within fifteen minutes, only a few spots at the edges remained.

Derpy did one last fly-around to catch the few stragglers and then, once she was satisfied with her work, she glided down to the entrance of the ranch—where she was greeted by the applause of Carrot Top and Doctor Whooves stamping their hooves on the ground.

“Thank you so much, Derps!” Carrot said cheerily, rushing in to wrap her forelegs around the mare. “I couldn’t have done it without you!”

“No problem!” Derpy replied. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

“Right,” Whooves said with a laugh.

“And thank you too, Doctor,” Carrot remarked as she pulled out of the hug. “Really glad to have both of you in my life.”

“And us to you,” Whooves said. “Have a good day now.”

“And don’t forget to tell us if you need help with anything else, ya hear?” Derpy shot Carrot a large, exaggerated wink.

“Well…” Carrot tapped her chin. “There is one thing you could do for me.”

“Oh?” Hooves raised an eyebrow. “And that would be?”

Carrot grinned. “To come over for dinner later! We’re having a nice carrot stew, and I would love to share it with you.”

“That sounds lovely, Carrot,” Derpy said before Whooves could reply. “We’ll be here around five-thirty, that okay?”

“Perfect.” Carrot looked back at her farm. “Well, I’ve got a lot of chores to do and a lot of punch to clean up. See you later.” She walked off, leaving Derpy and Whooves there in the middle of the path all by themselves.

Whooves sighed. “I don’t even like carrot stew.”

“I know,” Derpy said, “and I don’t either. I just wanted to do something nice for her.”

Whooves’ lips curved. “You really like doing that, don’t you?” He wrapped a foreleg around her neck. “C’mere, you. Let’s get back to town.”

They walked side by side down the path, and Whooves kept stealing glances of Derpy out of the corner of his eye as they went along. What kept him looking was to make sure that his eyes weren’t fooling him, but they weren’t; there was no golden glint among the smooth grey fur on her ear.

Mayday

Author's Notes:

God’s Hand

(fons et origo)


Sunday

“Ugh… did you really have to wake me up this early?” Lyra stood woozily in the doorway of her marefriend’s kitchen, hips leaned against the frame.

“It’s only nine, honey,” Bon Bon replied, though her voice was muffled from the cabinet she was reaching up into. “And I told you I was going to be needing your help early today, remember?” A bag of flour fell down from the shelf to the counter with a soft thunk. “Whoops.”

Lyra ran a hoof through her mane, which was wild and unkempt with wide tufts of mint green sticking up here and there. Bags a deep shade hung under her eyes. “I… don’t remember much of last night, come to think of it.”

Bon Bon turned Lyra’s way just to roll her eyes. “Yes, you were out late again. Very late.”

“Hrmph,” Lyra hrmph’d. “So what?”

Bon Bon raised an eyebrow. “So… nothing.” She paused. “I mean… well… eh, we can talk about it later. Regardless… the dishes, if you could…” The mare pointed to the kitchen sink, where an unusually tall pile of pots and pans filled one side.

“Ungh… couldn’t it wait ’til later?” Lyra added a touch of puppy-dog eyes to sweeten the plea.

“Lyra!” Bon Bon chastised. “We need all the time today that we can get! You know what day it is, right?”

The mint-green unicorn turned her head to look at the day calendar on the door, squinting her eyes to make out the red numbers. Her eyes suddenly widened. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah, exactly.” Bon Bon let out a sigh. “I promise, once it’s all over, we can take some time off and relax, but we’ve got a lot of work to do before then.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Lyra grumbled as she made her way over to the sink. “Let’s just get it over with.”

Shrugging, Bon Bon pulled a mitt onto one of her hooves and opened one of the ovens. She carefully held the front open and, using the mitt, slid a tray inside. She watched the dough sit there in the wavering heat, before letting the front close with a metallic thunk.


“Ready?” Spike had a claw on his hip as he leaned back, looking out straight ahead of him.

“Ready!” came the chorused reply from Derpy and Raindrops.

“Alright. On the count of three, then.” Spike paused, stepping back. He looked up to the sky. “One… two… three!”

Both pegasi, ropes attached to their saddles, trotted quickly forward on the grass. Behind them, with the ropes fastened to its top, was a tall wooden pole—and as the pegasi moved, the pole swung upwards. Multicoloured ribbons that hung from the top fluttered in the air below, looking not unlike the mane of Rainbow Dash mid-trick on a windy day. Once the pole was nearly pointing straight up, Derpy and Raindrops stopped in their tracks, each looking over their shoulders to see how much further they needed to go. Spike, who had been standing off to the side, quickly waddled over to the bottom of the pole and grabbed it, using his claws to shift it over into the small hole.

“Careful, Derpy,” Raindrops suddenly said. Spike looked back to see the grey mare had started to trot away with the rope still tied onto her saddle, and he facepalmed. Raindrops trotted over to help Derpy untie the rope, and then flew up to the pole to remove the ropes from the top—leaving only the ribbons hanging down limply towards the ground.

“Heh, whoops,” Derpy mumbled to herself as she uncinched the strap on her saddle, letting it slide off. “Sorry about that, Spike.”

“It’s no problem,” Spike replied, approaching her. “I keep forgetting things too, what with all that’s going on. And now that Twilight can’t be organising everything, well… now a lot of it’s fallen to me.”

“What about Pinkie?” Raindrops asked. She flew over to the pair of them, ropes in tow. “Did I miss something, or is there a reason she can’t help?”

“She’s out of town, ’cause her sister Limestone’s birthday is today,” Spike explained. “She’s going to be back for the celebration tomorrow, but she can’t really help with the planning before then.”

“Oh, okay,” Raindrops said, nodding. “Well, lemme know if there’s anything else I can help with, y’hear?”

“Of course,” Spike replied. “I think I should be good for now, since we did manage to find this new spot, but I’ll definitely keep you posted. The Cakes are going to be helping to set up tables and chairs later, and Mayor Mare has a volunteer group working on the decorations that’ll go up tonight, and… uh… somepony’s working on the lanterns, I think.”

“Oh, the lanterns!” Derpy exclaimed. “I’ve loved those ever since I was a filly…”

“They are pretty neat,” Raindrops affirmed, though she looked distracted. “Say, Derpy, don’t you have work to get back to?”

Derpy blinked. “Oh my goodness, I totally forgot! Thanks, Rainbow!” Before either Raindrops or Spike could say anything, the grey pegasus leapt into the air and, flapping her wings lazily, let the breeze carry her off.

Raindrops rolled her eyes. “I swear…”

Spike just smiled. “Well, again, thanks for the help. Now, if you’ll excuse me… I have a few other ponies to talk to.”

Raindrops nodded sharply. “Yeah… I should probably see if Rainbow Dash needs me for anything, anyway.” She crouched down, kicked a forehoof back, and took off; a blue and yellow blur was left behind in the empty space. Spike watched her fly away beyond the clouds, and chuckled to himself before making his own exit.

Left behind was the maypole, standing proudly vertical on the backdrop of blue sky and white clouds. The rest of the field lay empty; although a few houses lined the area, this patch of Ponyville had somehow remained undeveloped and wild (though its grass was being slowly cut by a village gardener). It was peaceful.


There was a violent knocking on the door, and Starlight Glimmer was ripped away from the book she had been reading. Though her head filled with thoughts of ponies going on wondrous adventures, of ponies falling in love, of ponies living more interesting lives—all of that faded in an instant once she heard the sharp rap of hoof on wood.

“Yes?” she called hoarsely. Coughing into her hoof, she tried again. “Hello? Who is it?”

“It’s me, Apple Bloom,” replied the voice from behind the door. “Was wonderin’ if I could talk to you about somethin’, since I can’t find Twilight or Spike.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, okay.” Starlight looked over to her messy desk across the room and back down to her book where it lay in front of her on the bed.. “Um… hold on a sec.” She lifted the book in her magic and trotted over to the desk, using a few more bursts of magic to quickly open drawers and shove things into them. Once there was at least some space cleared, she shoved a small paper into the book and let the pages snap closed before placing it down by the lamp. “Alright, I’m ready. Come in!”

The door swung open with a creak, and the yellow filly trotted slowly inside. “Uh… hey, Starlight.”

“Hi, Apple Bloom,” Starlight responded, smiling nervously. She had spoken to the filly once or twice, but didn’t really know her all that well; she knew she took after her big sister Applejack and was friends with Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, but not much beyond that. “What do you need?”

“Well… it’s about my sister,” Apple Bloom replied. When Starlight’s expression remained blank, the filly raised an eyebrow. “You… do know what I’m talking about, don’tcha?”

“Oh, um…” Starlight looked back and forth, biting her lip. “Is it about the catering for tomorrow?”

“Not… exactly.” Apple Bloom frowned. “Gosh, did Twilight really not tell you?”

“Er… I haven’t spoken much to Twilight in the last few days,” Starlight admitted. “She’s been busy with that, uh, ‘Object’ thing in the square, and Spike had to pick up the slack with the organisation. Meanwhile I’ve been stuck in the castle. Twilight told me before she left to keep a handle on things, but… she didn’t really give me any indication as to what I’m supposed to be doing.”

“Oh boy,” Apple Bloom droned. “Well… long story short, Twilight kidnapped my sister ’n’ she won’t let ’er go.”

Starlight blinked. “She… what?”

“You heard me.” The filly sighed, brushing a hoof through her crimson mane. “And Twilight’ll do that sort of thing sometimes, so it ain’t much of a problem, or at least it wouldn’t be if we didn’t hafta get ready for the May Day celebrations tomorrow.”

“I… I don’t understand,” Starlight finally managed to get out. “Why would Twilight kidnap Applejack?”

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?”


“And Twilight was like, ‘Don’t touch it!’, and I was like, ‘But I’m already touching it!’, and so she dragged me off to the castle ’cause she said she thought it could be dangerous and that she didn’t know where the thing came from. Which I understand and all, but… sometimes that filly’s more careful than a vase collector on movin’ day.” Applejack paused, taking a breath and leaning back in her seat. “And once we got back to the castle, she was more focused on gettin’ her tools together to take back to the Object, so she just told me to wait in here.”

“...and she forgot that the door locks?” Starlight guessed.

“Yep,” Applejack said. Her stomach rumbled and she leaned down to take a bite of a sandwich Starlight had whipped up once they realised Applejack had been locked in the study for the last two days with no food.

“Hmm…” Starlight tapped her chin with a hoof. “That’s weird, though. She isn’t usually so absent-minded, especially when it comes to her friends.”

“Yeah, I found it mighty strange myself,” Applejack replied, “but there weren’t much I could do about it. I tried to yell for her, and Spike, and even you—”

Even me?” Starlight asked, eyebrow raised.

“Even you,” Applejack said with a laugh. She rolled her eyes, and took another bite of the sandwich. “But obviously nopony could hear me so I just found a book that looked interesting and hoped you’d be by before too long.”

Starlight tilted her head. “That’s… not exactly a great plan.”

“Well, I woulda just bucked out the windows if I felt hungry enough, but I figured I might as well spare y’all the trouble of having to fix ’em,” Applejack explained. “Plus I got pretty darn sucked into that book.”

“Ooh, what book was it?” Apple Bloom asked. She was seated on a swivel chair by the desk, and her face came into view only every few seconds.

“Heh, it don’t matter none,” Applejack replied, though her cheeks grew red. Starlight could’ve sworn that the mare used a hindleg to kick something below the couch at that instant, but it could’ve also just been a trick of the light. “Anyway… since I’m still up and kicking, you reckon I’m safe to go?”

Starlight looked Applejack over for a few moments, and then nodded. “Yeah, you should be fine. Of course, you should let us or the hospital know if anything happens, but… if something were gonna happen, it would probably have happened by now.”

“Phew,” Apple Bloom said, relieved. “I thought we were gonna have to set everything up for the festival without your help, sis, and that woulda been a mess.” She nuzzled her sister with a smile.

“I bet you coulda taken care of it,” Applejack said with a wink. “Thanks a bunch, Starlight.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Starlight replied, though she looked lost in thought. “Honestly, though, I’m… really surprised Twilight brought you here. This isn’t a proper magical or medical quarantine, at least as far as I can tell.” Her horn lit up, and a burst of turquoise light rolled over the room. “Yeah, no signs of spells. I guess you’re… away from ponies, which helps, but… I just don’t get why she’d bring you here.”

Applejack shrugged. “Not sure either, sugarcube, but it don’t really matter.” She turned to Apple Bloom, who was spinning faster. “We gotta get back to the farm and help Granny and Big Mac with the baking. We can always ask Twilight about it later.”

“Yeah, I’ll go talk to her tonight,” Starlight remarked. “Well, good luck, and I’ll see you both tomorrow for the festival!”

After a quick hug to her savior, Applejack followed her sister out the door, and Starlight could hear their hooves clacking on the crystalline floor as they made their way to the front of the castle. The unicorn let out a sigh, and rubbed her face with her hooves. And, with a final shrug, she trotted out of the study.

If anypony had been left to watch, they would have noted that a touch of darkness seemed to overtake the sky, even though nary a cloud was in sight.


“Is everyone back from the playground?” Cheerilee asked. She was standing in the front of the schoolroom, looking over the desks carefully. “I know Apple Bloom is excused for festival preparations, but…” She counted the fillies and colts at the desks once more. “Hmm. Where’s Silver Spoon?”

“She had to go home sick,” Diamond Tiara replied from the right side of the room. “She threw up, so we called her mom and she got picked up.”

“Oh, goodness, okay.” Cheerilee bit her lip. “I hope she’s feeling better tomorrow for the festival.” She paused. “Anyway, now that you’re all accounted for… it’s time to talk about May Day.” She pointed at the chalkboard behind her, where she had written the words ‘MAY DAY’ in large white block letters, shadow drawn in shaky blue. “As you all know, May Day is the oldest holiday still celebrated in Equestria, going back to even before the Confederation was formed. The first records we have of a spring festival being celebrated date back to the seventh century before the Nightmare, but the texts indicate that it had already long been a tradition by then. Regardless, this means that…”

“Psst.” Diamond Tiara could hear a whispering from her right, so she turned to look as subtly as she could at her classmate.

“What?” the filly hissed.

“Is that true?” Sweetie Belle whispered. “Did Silver Spoon really go home sick?”

Diamond raised an eyebrow. “Um… where else would she have gone?”

“I dunno,” Sweetie replied. “You tell me.”

“She went home,” Diamond said flatly. “I watched her throw up into a trash can. Pretty sure she wasn’t faking it.”

“Huh. Well, okay.”

“Sweetie Belle, Diamond Tiara,” Cheerilee said, snapping the two fillies out of their conversation. “Is there anything you two would like to tell the class?”

Diamond just rolled her eyes and shrugged, leaning back in her seat.

“We’re expecting!” Sweetie exclaimed with a grin.

“Filly or colt?” Featherweight called from the back.

“I bet it’s a gryphon,” Scootaloo cut in.

“Which one of you is the bio-mom?” Dinky asked.

Cheerilee rubbed her temple with a hoof. “Alright, alright, that’s enough. But please, Sweetie and Diamond, if you’re not going to pay attention, could you at least keep quiet so everypony else can hear?”

“Sure,” Sweetie replied sweetly.

“Thank you. As I was saying…” Cheerilee looked up. “Oh. Yes, Rumble?”

“Could you tell us about the Object?” Rumble asked. As the words left his mouth, a dozen pairs of eyes around the room lit up with interest.

“The… Object?” Cheerilee asked, though she knew full well what he was talking about.

“Yeah, you know, the one in the Town Square.”

“I don’t know…” Cheerilee tapped her hoof with a chin. “We have a lot more about May Day to talk about.”

“But you tell us every year,” Scootaloo said. “I already know everything about May Day.”

“Then I hope you won’t mind a five-paragraph essay about the history,” Cheerilee remarked. The room groaned. “Now… I wouldn’t mind telling you about the Object, but… honestly I don’t really know anything about it.”

“What do you mean?” Rumble asked. “You’re, like, the teacher.”

Cheerilee smirked, leaning her elbow on her desk. “Teachers don’t know everything, unfortunately. Especially when it comes to something as new and mysterious as the Object. But I’ll try to talk to Twilight before the festival and see if I can’t find out what she’s discovered.”

Diamond Tiara yawned. “Can we go, then?”

“If you don’t have anything more to tell us,” Sweetie Belle added.

Cheerilee looked up at the clock and sighed. “Yes, yes, alright. I’m sure many of you have festival preparations to work on, and I’m looking forward to seeing everything you pull together. Remember, the essay is due on Friday! And I will not be accepting any extensions this time without a doctor’s note!”

A wave of groaning washed through the back of the classroom, but a quick glare from Cheerilee made the room fall silent. Once it was clear nopony had anything more to say, the teacher lowered her head down to her desk to look at her notes, signalling that the students were relieved of their duties. Everypony in the room quickly began to shove notebooks and pencils into their backpacks, trying to get going as quickly as possible.

Everypony except one, that is. While everypony else began to stand up and file out the door one by one, a filly remained in her seat, even after she’d filed her notebook away into her bag. It wasn’t until everypony else had left the room that Cheerilee looked up, and opened her eyes wide in surprise upon seeing the straggler.

“Do you… need something?” she asked.

Dinky Hooves’ eyes flashed with worry for a moment, but then she shook her head. “No, it’s… it’s nothing.”

Cheerilee pursed her lips. “Well, alright. But you know my office is always open if there is something going on, right?”

Dinky nodded, meekly, and then reached down to grab her saddlebag. “Thanks, Cheerilee. I’ll… I’ll keep that in mind.”

Cheerilee watched curiously as the filly trotted up past the empty rows of desks and out through the door, not looking back. The door swung shut behind her, rocking back and forth ever so slightly before coming to a stop. Sighing, the teacher looked back to her desk and picked up a stack of papers, straightening it against the desk’s surface.

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