Back, I have to go back...

        You can’t.  Not after what you’ve done.

        But I need to!  I owe her my life!  I owe her my life and in return I hurt her...

        Exactly!  You saw her there, on the floor, bleeding.  Do you think she’ll want to see you ever again?

        I don’t care!  I need to help her!

        What if she’ll never fly again?  What if she’s d—

        DON’T THINK THAT!

        Why?  It could be true.  You can’t go back. They may even be looking for you right now.  Hunting you down, to make you pay.  Maybe there’s a bounty.

        That doesn’t matter.  I need to help her.  I need to fix what I’ve done.

        How could you do that?  You don’t know anything about this place.  You don’t remember anything.

        I can help her, I know it.

        How?  How do you know?

        Because it’s part of who I am.  I don’t understand it... I can’t remember... but it’s there.  It’s in me, and I can help her.

        Good luck with that.  You’re an amnesiac lost in a maze of trees.  You’ll never find your way back.

        I’ll find my way back because I have to.  We’re saving her.  You’ll see.

        Fine, then.  Go.  She’ll hate you forever.  She may not even want your help, not after what you’ve done.  Or it could be even worse... like I said, she could be—

        Stop.  I told you not to think that.  She’s alive, I know she is.  And she won’t hate me.  She doesn’t have the ability to hate.  Which is horrible, because if anypony deserves hate, it’s me.

        You shouldn’t have run.

        …

        …

        I know.  I shouldn’t have run.

***

The magic simply wouldn’t come.  There was none to use, nothing left from her experiment with the vial.  It was all gone.

But Twilight still stood before her unconscious, bleeding friend, head lowered in concentration, face twisted in effort and desperation.

“Grraaaaaah!” She stood, hooves digging hard into the cottage floor, attempting to summon something, anything.  Even a low-level healing spell for cuts.  But still nothing came, and instead of that indescribable sensation of cool flowing water, she was greeted by the unbearable feeling of her mind scraping against the bottom of a rough well, like nails on a chalkboard.  Her head and her horn screamed for her to stop.

But she couldn’t.  Her friend needed her.  She just needed magic.  A puddle, a drop.  Anything.

And still none came.

And then she realized: the vial!  She searched herself for it, ignoring the way the world spun about her.  Where is it WHERE IS IT?

Then she remembered.  It was at home in the library.  She had left it there to keep it safe, and also so that she wouldn’t be tempted to waste any more before they even left on their journey.  She had left it there, and now she needed it more than ever.

Eventually the strain became too great for her, and she collapsed upon the floor.  The world closed in on her like a black drape, but before she submitted to the blissful emptiness, she caught sight of her friend who also lay upon the floor, breathing in haggard breaths.

It took all her strength to get back onto her hooves, but when she did her mind felt clearer than before.  No magic.  It wasn’t an option.  There was only one choice now.  Twilight moved next to her friend and began to roll the pegasus onto her own back.  She would have to carry her.

***

Oh, not this tree again!  I don’t have time to go in circles!

She was crying, racked by a host of emotions that drove her forward.  The desperation, guilt, frustration, self-loathing, and isolation overwhelmed her thoughts and all hope of finding her way back or discovering her original path were wiped away.

She needs me, I can’t stop, I just need a way out...

In her mind all was yellow: that yellow pegasus, the one who saved her, the one whom she reduced to something unthinkable.  And she couldn’t wipe away the image of that pegasus upon the floor...

For what seemed like hours she ran, this time with no aura of energy to blaze her trail.  The forest fought back with every step, brushes and rocks snagging her coat and tripping her.

Trees, barbs, vines, stones, mud.  The world was a labyrinth that had no entrance and no exit, only twists and corners and dead ends.  And then she was in a clearing.

She began to calm down at once, just a little.  Because now she was bathed in that impossible color of starlight, that strange hue that only seems to exist in the latest hours of night when the grass has begun to dew and your breath is pierced by those rays of white that travel billions upon billions of miles in a journey that takes years even at the speed of light; and she felt that light warm her and spread across her, and she felt home.

She looked up to the sky, and there they were, old friends and neighbors that she knew by name.  There was Acamar, the old and wise; Mira, the joker; Nashira, the farmer; Rigel, the watchpony...

These names—where did she know them from?  Each beautiful twinkling dot in the night sky sparked a million memories of her old life, which flared across her mind’s eye like a meteor shower; but, like a meteor shower, each memory—every taste and scent and vision from those old days in the comfort of friends and loved ones—faded into nothingness, and she was left wondering what it all meant and why that fantastic matrix of silent celestial lights filled her heart with such feelings of comfort and belonging.

But though in the incredible expanse of infinity above her she felt a confused kinship, she also felt a guiding force, a sense of direction, a waypoint—there was Rigel, brother of Sirius, pointing west.  And Spica, brighter than his neighbors, defining east.  That’s the way she needed to go.  That was the way back to her friend.

Without wasting any more time she ran east, guided by friends who existed only as shadows in her blurred memories, but guided by friends just the same.

***

Fluttershy didn’t hurt.  In fact, if anything, her world was defined by a numbness, one that spread throughout her body, its gentle tendrils reaching even into her mind, caressing it and lulling it.

That was bad.  She knew somepony who suffered from amnesia after an accident.  What if she was amnesiac now, too?  Suddenly she feared more for her memory than for her body.  What if the blow to her head had jumbled her thoughts, had dispersed her memories into the furthest corners of her consciousness?  What if she wouldn’t recognize her friends ever again?

Desperately she tried to conjure images of them.  There was Twilight—that bookworm of a unicorn.  She sensed that Twilight was nearby, wherever she was, and that eased her aching mind.  If Twilight was near, she had nothing to worry about.

And there was Rainbow Dash, her fellow pegasi, that lovingly arrogant speedster.

She let out a mental sigh of relief—there were her memories, safe and sound.  Twilight, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Applejack, Rarity.  All where they belonged, right there in her head.

An inquisitive part of her subconscious spoke up: How do you know you’re not forgetting anypony?  If you really were amnesiac, you wouldn’t know that you forgot.

She couldn’t think of an explanation, but yet she knew it to be true.  It was like a dream in which she realized she was dreaming: she had no proof.  She could just tell.  Everything was right in her mind.  Simple as that.

Her attention turned to her body and surroundings.  That comforting-yet-worrisome numbness still prevailed, though she was aware she was on her back, facing the sky.  There was a displeasing taste in her mouth, like it was filled with coins.

She wasn’t sure if she could move.  She didn’t want to find out.  She didn’t want to do much of anything.  Instead, she just lay on her back (which, though she wasn’t aware of it, was held up by Twilight’s own) and tried to resubmerge herself back into that floaty sensation.  Dimly she was aware that she was in trouble, that she would soon be in pain, that something bad had happened.  Instead of acknowledging this, she just drifted, lighter and lighter.  If there would be pain, let it come later.

Everything became blank once more, the all-encompassing numbness stealing her mind away.

***

A light through the trees.  Maybe one of those night-lamps that Fluttershy had told her about, the ones that were like little stars in glass that lit up the ground when the sun was away and the moon was not enough to see through the night.  Or maybe it was something else.  It didn’t matter—she could see it beyond the trees, and if she could see beyond the trees, the end of the forest was just ahead.

With new determination, she ran on.

***

Twilight heard a choked groan.  She could even feel it, traveling through the pony on her back like a clash of seismic plates, and finally down into her own body, where it reverberated through her chest and came out her mouth as a gasp of weakness and exhaustion.

She could move no further.  Fluttershy wasn’t heavy—like any pegasus, her bones were hollow and built for flying—but the effort she had put into summoning magic had ravished her mind and body, and now each step was a struggle, but one that she had to endure, for she was beginning to fear that her friend’s life was at stake.

With a grunt, she took another step, no energy left to call for help, not even enough to cry.

***

The house was empty.  Nova ran madly from room to room, calling out in desperation.

“Fluttershy!  Fluttershy, where are you?  Twilight?”

The bedroom, her bedroom, the one Fluttershy had let her use.  That’s where it had happened.  The floor was still red with blood, but it had darkened as it dried, staining the wooden planks a deep crimson in splotches and patches, thickest where a floor board had split in two.  The room she had come to love was now deathly silent, the blood stains and strewn furniture telling a story that she couldn’t bear to revisit.

After checking every room, Nova stood in the silent kitchen, breathing heavily and suddenly feeling completely and hopelessly alone.  The silence threatened to swallow her whole, pick her apart; it bore into her skull, painting a picture of a happy little cottage on the edge of town that was inhabited by the kindest soul a pony could meet.  Then that image melted away, leaving a deserted, dilapidated ruin that sat dead when there should have been candlelights in the windows and a stream of smoke from the chimney, where instead of a neat bedroom with perfect white walls and a figure sleeping peacefully in bed, there were walls dotted with red spatters like a deadly nebula and a bed with sheets hastily thrown upon the floor next to broken floorboards.  And she knew it was all because of her.

She almost broke down completely, she almost submitted to the despair that seemed to leak from the kitchen walls like jam.  But then she heard a distant yell.  It was Twilight.

Like an unstoppable force, she was off again, closing the distance, not sure what she could do to help but still certain that she could do something.

***

Twilight opened her eyes.  Focus.  She had to focus.  She shifted her attention to the weight on her back—but it was gone.  Fluttershy wasn’t there.

She drew in a sharp breath.  Her mind was clouded by exhaustion, muddled by over-exertion.  She tried to open her mouth to call out, but couldn’t—she realized her chin was against the ground.  She was on her stomach, legs spread out on all sides.

The muscles in her neck ached when she tried to move them.  With some effort she managed to look to her left.  There, on the ground, was Fluttershy.  Standing above her, hunched over, was Nova.

She opened her mouth to say something, but couldn’t manage more than a weak croak.  She had been running completely on adrenaline, but now that was all used up, just like her magic.  Though she tried to fight it, the darkness was creeping in again, blurring her vision and trying to steal her away into a safe unconsciousness.  Little by little she began slipping away.

The last thing she saw—or thought she saw—was a great flash that for a moment pushed back the spreading darkness, but then faded into nothing as she finally drifted off.

***

Even before she opened her eyes, Twilight knew she was in a bed.  She even knew which bed, because she had been in it plenty of times before during periods of sickness ranging from a slight cold to a severe case of Bloom Fever.  It was a very comfortable bed, and she lay there contentedly for nearly a minute until she remembered that one of her best friends was dying.

The comforter exploded off her and onto the ground as she leapt from the mattress and landed on the floor beside the bed with a vigorous thud.

“Fluttershy!”

She turned around frantically, looking every which way.  The room.  That was the room in which the explosion—or whatever it was—had happened.  She glanced to the walls, her quick mind racing to find evidence of the disaster.  No aberrations, no tears in the flowery wallpaper.  Down to the floor.  No broken floorboards.  No blood.  Nothing to suggest that somewhere out there a yellow pegasus was bleeding and unconscious.

Had it been a dream?  A terrible nightmare?  How much of it had been a dream?  Was Nova a dream?  Suddenly she felt completely disorientated, unsure of what was real and what was delusion.  Was the magic actually gone—was the Spring actually empty?  She wanted to know, but was afraid to find out.

“YesTwilightwhatisitareyouokay?”

Fluttershy burst through the door, and Twilight nearly tackled her in an embrace.

“Fluttershy, I thought something horrible had happened to you!  I think it was a dream, in fact I’m sure it was a dream, but it’s over now and I’m so happy to see you.”

“Oh, right.  Well, um, don’t worry about it now; I’m okay and you’re okay and everything’s fine.”

Twilight ended the embrace, stepping back to get a better look at her friend.  No cuts, no marks.  A dream.  That’s all it was.  “It was awful... something happened to you, and I was carrying you, and... I don’t even want to think about it anymore.  It was the worst dream I’ve ever had.”

Fluttershy looked away, inspecting the wallpaper.  “Well, Twilight, you see... none of that was a dream.  But it’s okay, because everypony’s fine, so you don’t need to worry.”

“But... so then...”

“Twilight.”  Fluttershy turned back to her friend, glancing solemnly into her eyes.  “I’m okay.  You’re okay.  Everypony is okay.  There’s nothing to worry about anymore.  It’s over.”

It’s over.  Twilight tried to process it.  Something bad had happened, but it was over and there was no need to worry.  She stopped thinking and grabbed her friend in a tight hug again.  “Okay.  It’s over.  I’m so glad you’re okay.”  Then she remembered something.  “So then Nova wasn’t a dream, either?”

Fluttershy shook her head.

“Where is she?”

“She... she hasn’t come out of the other bedroom.  I’ve been bringing her food, but she won’t open the door.  She’s locked it somehow.  I don’t know how, since it doesn’t have a lock.”  She lowered her voice, eyes somber and wide.  “I’m really worried about her.”

Twilight nodded, trying to piece everything together.  “Fluttershy... do you know what happened?  Do you have any idea why there was that... explosion?”

Fluttershy was about to explain that she wasn’t sure what caused the event, but she noticed Twilight’s eyes drift over her shoulder to something behind her.

She turned around, and there was Nova standing in the doorway, head lowered and body limp, as though she no longer wished to inhabit it.

“It was my fault,” Nova said.  “It was me.”

Even with her head down Fluttershy could see her eyes squeezed shut tightly and her face contorted from the force of her guilt.  “I don’t know why or how it happened.  I was sleeping.  And then I felt this... discharge.  I think I’ve felt it before, but I don’t remember.  It was all because of me.  I’m so sorry.”  Trembling, she nearly collapsed to the floor, as if the weight of her conscience were too great for her to carry any longer.

“Nova,” Fluttershy said, voice so stern that Twilight’s eyes widened in surprise, “listen to me.  We don’t know what happened or why it happened, but I won’t have you acting like this.  Whatever it was, it wasn’t your fault, and if you try to blame this on yourself, I... I’ll be very upset.”

Nova sniffed, lifting her head to meet Fluttershy’s gaze.  Like a child, Twilight thought.  Like a little filly.

“There’re a lot of things we don’t understand right now.  But what we do understand is that you saved my life.  And I won’t have somepony who saved my life acting like this.”  Fluttershy stepped toward Nova and pulled her into a tight embrace.  Twilight noticed that as Fluttershy moved forward, Nova’s eyes grew wide, as if she feared that simply touching the pegasus would cause another disaster—but after nothing happened, she returned the embrace, pulling her friend tightly.

“I’m so scared,” Nova whispered into Fluttershy’s shoulder.  “I don’t know who I am or what’s wrong with me.  I don’t know why that happened, or if it will happen again.  I can’t be near anypony.  I’m not safe.”  She took in a choked breath.  “I’m a danger.”

Fluttershy patted her back gently.  There was nothing she could say to that, not without lying.

“Actually,” Twilight said, staring out the window in thought, “I think I understand.”

The two ponies turned to Twilight.  She took a breath, meeting first Fluttershy’s gaze, which peered back with somber curiosity, then Nova’s, which brimmed with tears.  She realized that the time had come—Nova had to learn the truth.  Or, at least, most of it.

Nova’s glance burned with such fear and confusion that Twilight’s heart nearly broke; the feeling was intensified knowing what she was about to say.

“Nova... do you know the First Law of Magic?”

“First Law of Magic?”  She turned from Twilight to Fluttershy, more lost than ever, hoping for some guidance from the one who had taught her so much.  But Fluttershy didn’t return Nova’s gaze—her eyes were still transfixed upon Twilight’s, now with new understanding.

“The First Law of Magic,” Twilight continued, “states that magic repels other magic (with some rare exceptions).  The meeting of two bodies of magic, if they are powerful enough, can cause a reaction that can emit a great amount of energy.”

“This has happened before,” Fluttershy said suddenly, eyes far away in a memory.  “I think I understand it now.”

“What?” Nova said, turning desperately to Fluttershy.  But she was still far away, reliving a moment from the past.  For one terrible second Nova felt abandoned, nopony there to guide her, nopony to help her understand the unknown and dangerous thing she held within herself.

“The Rose,” Fluttershy murmured, emerging from her memory.  “Twilight, in the very beginning, when you tried to fix it with magic... there was an explosion just like this one.”

“Exactly,” Twilight said.  She turned to Nova.  “The Rose was a very powerful magical artifact.  When I tried to touch it with magic, there was an enormous explosion—just like the one that happened last night.  Do you see?” she said soothingly, hoping the truth would ease the terrified pony’s mind.  “Do you understand?”

Nova looked down in thought.  Magic repels other magic.  Causing damage.  Explosions.  Which is exactly what happened the night before.

“Are you saying... that I can use...”

“Magic,” Twilight said, nodding encouragingly.

Nova looked to her two friends in frustration, her normally timid demeanor replaced by a helpless dismay.  “But all the magic is gone!  If nopony else can use magic, why can I?”

“Because other ponies draw their magic from the Spring.”  Twilight sat down next to Nova, wrapping a comforting hoof around her shoulder.  “But not you.  Your magic is held right inside of you.”

Nova looked down at herself, eyes wide, as if expecting to see some hint of the power within her, perhaps a faint twinkle or a dull glow.  “Inside of me?”

“Yes.  In fact,” Twilight said, standing up, her eyes growing wide with new realization, “do you know why you ran into that tree, causing your amnesia?”

Nova closed her eyes in thought.  “...No,” she said.  “I can’t remember that far back.  I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Twilight said.  “There’s no need for that.  You see, when we first found you against that tree, I decided the best way to bring you back here to Fluttershy’s was to teleport you.  Because it would have been quickest, and you needed urgent care.  But when you realized I was gathering my magic for the spell... well, you panicked, and dove out of the way.  Into the tree.”

Nova squeezed her eyes shut in frustration.  Too much, too much information and too many questions.  It threatened to overwhelm her, and only by taking a deep breath and thinking of the night sky was she able to calm herself.  “But why?”

“Because you knew.  Because you knew that there was magic within you, and you knew it would erupt if it encountered my teleportation spell.  So you dove out of the way.”  Twilight cocked her head to the side, surprised by yet another realization.  “Nova... you prevented a huge catastrophe.  You... you might have saved all of our lives.”

Nova thought.  The unknowns swirled around her, tormenting her, taunting her.  But what Twilight said made sense.  “So, last night, when I was sleeping...”

“...I used a small amount of magic to place the blanket over you.  It must have encountered your own magic, causing another outburst.”  Twilight looked down, her features marred by guilt.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t know.  I mean, I knew that you had magic within you, but I didn’t expect it to react so violently.”

“It’s okay.  You didn’t—wait.”  She pulled herself out from under Twilight’s hoof.  “You knew that there was magic inside me?  The whole time?”  She stared at Twilight, waiting for an explanation.

“Well...”  Twilight said, glancing to the ceiling and quite clearly taken aback.  “It’s... yes, I had suspected that.”

Nova just kept staring, features unchanging, apparently unsatisfied with the answer.

“But only because we wanted you to figure it out for yourself,” Twilight added quickly.  “I’ve done lots of research on amnesia since we met you.  Looking for answers, looking for ways to heal your memory.  And each book I read noted how important it was that the amnesiac rediscover herself on her own.  It’s like how you’re not supposed to wake a sleepwalker.”

Nova looked down, silent.  Nearly expressionless.

Oh no, Fluttershy thought.  Oh no.  She knew what Nova would ask next.  Oh please don’t ask.

“But...” Nova said, looking back to Twilight, eyes now wide, earnest, and lost.  “Why?  Why am I here?  Why now?  I know... I know I have a purpose...” She shut her eyes tightly, as though her purpose were awaiting her in the ensuing darkness.  “I know I’m meant to be here.  For... for something.  But I just don’t know what.  I just don’t remember.”

Twilight stared into the unlit fireplace.  “She has to fuel the Spring, but she can’t do it if she doesn’t know how, if she doesn’t even know who and what she is.”

“We don’t know, Nova,” Twilight lied.

Nova nodded slowly.  “I just wish I understood.  It’s so... so scary not knowing why I’m here.  Not even knowing where I came from or what I’m supposed to do.  But now I know that there’s magic within me.  That’s a start.”

“Wait,” Fluttershy said.  “She has to fuel the Spring?”

“It certainly is,” Twilight agreed.  “And now we know to be more careful when using magic near you.” Twilight sighed, crossing her eyes to look up to her useless horn.  ”Though I guess that won’t be an issue any more.”

Will that hurt her?

“Nova,” Fluttershy said suddenly.

Nova, who had been staring at the ground in deep thought, turned to Fluttershy inquiringly.

“You saved me last night.  You saved my life.”

“Well... well, it was my fault that—”

“Nova.”  Her voice wasn’t as stern as before, but it was very solemn, so solemn that Nova shut her mouth.  “Listen.  I was bleeding.”  She held a hoof before her eyes, staring at it intently.  “I think this leg was broken.  It didn’t hurt.  I was too dazed to feel anything.  But I knew I was injured.  It was bad, Nova.  I shouldn’t have made it.”  She looked up from the hoof and into Nova’s eyes, which stared back in amazement.  “I shouldn’t have made it, but you saved me.”  Her own eyes teared up, and her quiet voice shook with gratitude.  “Thank you.”

Nova smiled, flustered.  She just couldn’t accept gratitude from the one she had harmed.  The image of her friend bleeding on the floor flashed through her mind, and she shuddered.  But she remembered what Fluttershy had said about blaming herself, so she did her best to brush those dark and corrosive thoughts from her mind.  “Well, Fluttershy... you saved me.  I guess I was just returning the favor.  And I hardly remember any of it, it just happened.  But I’m so glad it did.”

Fluttershy smiled in gratitude, but on the inside she groaned in frustration.  I hate this.  I hate having to lie to her.  But what else can we do?  We can’t tell her she’s meant to refill the Spring.  How do you tell somepony that?  That they’re a tool for the rest of pony kind?  Oh, I hate this so much.  She doesn’t deserve this.  Nopony deserves this.

Fluttershy’s eyes must have betrayed some of this deep sorrow, because for a moment Nova appeared puzzled, like she had seen something through Fluttershy’s fake smile.  In that moment, Fluttershy thought Nova saw the truth, right through Twilight’s lie.

You don’t have to do it, Fluttershy thought.  Princess Celestia said you get to choose.  You don’t have to.  Please say you don’t want to do it.

“So what do we do now?” Nova asked.  “Is there any cure for amnesia?  Twilight, I miss my home.  I miss it and I don’t even remember what it looks like.  Getting my memory back would solve everything.  Please tell me there’s a cure.”  Her eyes knew the truth, knew that nothing could be done, but they pleaded with Twilight anyway.

“Well, actually, there is,” Twilight said seriously.  “Nova, do you know what dominos are?”

“Dominos?” she said doubtfully.  There’s a cure?

“They’re little rectangular game tiles that fillies line up for fun.  When you tip over the first one, it hits the next, and that hits the one after that, and they all fall over.  Even if there are hundreds of them, they all fall, and all it takes is for you to push the first one.”

Nova nodded, though Fluttershy could see she was still lost.

“What I’m saying,” Twilight continued, “is that memories are a lot like dominos.  If you can trigger just one, then it may just trigger another, which may trigger two more.  If we can unlock just one of your memories, we may be able to unlock all the rest.”

“I think I understand,” Nova said.  “So then... what’s the first domino?”

“Well,” Twilight said, easily slipping into her scholarly role, “the sense that is most closely linked to memory is smell.  The problem is, I’m not really sure we could find anything that would smell like something you remember.  So we go on to the second most powerful connection with memory: location.  We need to bring you somewhere you’ve been before, somewhere that has strong links to your past.”

Nova squeezed her eyes shut in thought once more.  “But where?  How do we know where I’ve been if I can’t remember anything?”

Twilight turned to Fluttershy, hoping to give her a knowing glance, reminding her that they had already discussed just that.  But Fluttershy was staring at something far away, beyond the walls of the room.

“Well, you see,” Twilight said, turning back to Nova... but then she paused.  How could she explain to Nova that she already knew her purpose, knew where she’d been, and knew where she had to go?  How could she explain that she already knew all the answers to all the questions that kept Nova awake at night, that caused her such distress?

At that moment, there was a powerful and relentless pounding on the front door.

“If that’s who I think it is,” Twilight said, grinning despite the circumstances, “maybe she could explain it better than I could.”

***

“Listen, Twilight,” Dash said, floating around the room and gesturing wildly.  “Half the town—no, the whole town, and probably every other town in Equestria—is going crazy.  Where’ve you been?  The magic just isn’t working!  It’s like there’s none left.”

“Dash,” Twilight said, “I think—”

“No!  Let me finish.  Do you know what the worst part is?”  She landed beside Fluttershy, who blinked and backed up timidly.  “Not only is all of Equestria panicking because there’s no magic, but Princess Celestia herself has made the announcement that her most capable companions are on the case to get everything working again.”  She spun around, glaring first at Twilight, then at Fluttershy, then at Nova, who shrunk back.  “And those capable companions are us.  We’ve got all of Equestria counting on us to help them.  And you know what happens if we fail?  Crops won’t grow nearly as well without magic fertilizer.  Ponies will starve!  And that’s on us!”  She finally stopped her dizzying path around the room and turned to Twilight, floating in the air and panting.

“Dash,” Twilight said, exasperated, “listen.  Nopony’s going to starve.  We’ll see this through.  But first I need you to explain something... I need you to explain about the city of Dressage.”

Dash gawked.  “Twilight, did you hear anything that I just said?  This isn’t the time for that!  We’ve got big problems, huge problems!  Like, Discord-returned-and-brought-friends problems, except worse than that, since—”

“Dash,” Twilight said assertively, staring down her friend with a glance that she hoped said I understand, but shut up and listen to me for a second.  “I know.  We know.  But this is even more important than that, trust me.  Actually, everypony should be here to hear this.  I can't use magic to send out a message, so you're going to have to wake the others and bring them here, Dash.  Then you're going to tell all of us about the city of Dressage and what happened there.”

Dash pulled at her face in frustration, looking around the room for support.  Fluttershy just stared back with an expression that was both apologetic and pressing.  Nova wasn’t even watching—she had her eyes closed and wore a look of deep concentration, so great it nearly looked like pain.

Because that name, that city of Dressage, sounded so familiar...

Rainbow, with nopony to side with her, turned back to Twilight in defeat.  “Alright, fine, I’ll tell you about Dressage.  But why?”

“Because we’re going there,” Twilight said.

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