Chapter Thirteen: Spring

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A strong wind rattled the windows in their frames, intensifying the patter of the rain, if only for a moment. The distant, low rumble of thunder rolled in soon after.

Spring had definitely arrived.

The sound of falling rain brought great comfort to Fluttershy, and once upon a time, it would have lulled her to sleep. Now that sleep was no longer an option, hearing it while she lay in bed made her feel somewhat cheated. The mattress squeaked softly as she sighed and rolled over. Beyond the window, behind the mostly barren trees surrounding her home, she could see the soft glow of street lamps in the damp haze. She stretched her hind legs and prepared to slip out of bed, but she hesitated when she heard a soft inhale behind her.

“Fluttershy?” Pinkie Pie murmured.

Fluttershy looked over her wither, meeting Pinkie’s sleepy gaze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Pinkie shook her head slowly, reaching for the pegasus with her forelegs. “No no, it’s fine. I’m having a hard time getting to sleep anyway.”

Fluttershy rolled back toward Pinkie, uttering a soft, happy sound when Pinkie gave her a squeeze. “Nervous about tomorrow?”

A small nod preceded Pinkie’s words. “I’m not trying to be a nervous Nancy about it, but yeah.”

“Well, why are you nervous?” Fluttershy leaned back, showing Pinkie a gentle smile. “You’ve worked in a bakery for as long as I’ve known you.”

“Cause this is different than just working in a bakery, cause it’s not gonna be someone else’s bakery.” Even lying down, Pinkie began to bounce excitedly, the mattress creaking softly under her. “I mean, I’m really excited, because this is gonna be soooo cool, but—” She took a deep breath, closing the space between them and nuzzling into the side of Fluttershy’s neck.

“If I was running Sugarcube Corner for a day or two, I knew that if anything went wrong, Cup and Carrot could fix it when they came back… Now it’s gonna be my responsibility to make sure everything stays peachy-keen since it’s gonna be my bakery.”

Pinkie wrapped her forelegs around Fluttershy a bit more tightly. “I guess that’s kinda scary to think about.”

“Oh, Pinkie… I know you’ll do just fine.” Fluttershy kissed her on the forehead, stroking along her back. “And you won’t be doing it alone. I’ll be there to help you however I can, and so will Ditzy and Scootaloo.”

“Hey, Scoots said she was gonna move out here after a few paychecks. You think maybe I could rent out a room in the back of the bakery to her?” As Pinkie’s gaze began to wander, Fluttershy pondered how much of what was said was actually directed at her. The bubbling pony winded down with, “I don’t really need an office and they built in a pretty big office!”

Fluttershy rolled her eyes and giggled, resting a hoof on Pinkie’s breast. “Pinkie Pie, it’s your bakery. If you want to rent a room to Scootaloo, then feel free to do so. Now, do you feel less nervous about tomorrow?” Pinkie nodded eagerly, and Fluttershy giggled a little more. “Okay, then I think you should try and get some sleep.”

A long stretch of silence followed after Pinkie closed her eyes. Fluttershy let her thoughts wander, idly watching the gentle rise and fall of her lover’s breast. Then, in an almost fish-like fashion, Pinkie flopped to one side, then the other, squirming all the while. Fluttershy cover her muzzle to keep herself from laughing during the display. After several failed attempts to get comfortable, Pinkie rolled onto her back, dropped her head against the pillow with a feathery thump, and sighed.

“No dice,” Pinkie flatly murmured, staring up at the ceiling with eyes squeezed shut.

“I can fix you some tea, if you’d like,” Fluttershy offered, rubbing Pinkie’s foreleg. “Or maybe some warm milk?”

Pinkie’s eyes practically sparkled as they opened into darkness, reflecting the soft teal glow of Fluttershy’s gaze. “Actually, I just thought of something else! What if you do… you know.” She arched her brows and nodded toward Fluttershy, then opened her eyes as wide as Fluttershy imagined they could go. “That hypnosis thing.”

Fluttershy’s smile vanished. “Oh, Pinkie… I don’t—” She glanced away. “I mean, I really shouldn’t.”

“Puh-leeeease?” Pinkie squirmed back into view. “You can put me out in like, a minute! I know you can!”

Fluttershy sat in silence, her lips twisted up with discomfort as she began to reminisce on the night she had learned how to hypnotize. An intense wave of nostalgia crashed over the pegasus, bringing an urge to flee along with it.

Why did you have to bring that up, Pinkie Pie? It’s bad enough that I have to drink a few drops of your blood every day. Fluttershy swallowed, nearly choking on anxiety. She could feel frustration rising to take its place. You know… you know I just want to be a normal pony. We’ve talked about this. Did you forget? How could you forget?

Pinkie gave her puppy-dog eyes, bringing her forehooves up under her chin; completely oblivious to the inner turmoil she had just stirred up.

No. No, I know you didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, Pinkie. Her forelegs began to tremble. I don’t want to stress you out with any of this. Not when your big day is tomorrow. I should go... somewhere… anywhere. Getting out of the house might help me clear my thoughts, she reassured herself. I wanted to take a walk. Yes, I think I’ll take a walk.

With a deep sigh, Fluttershy nodded, sitting up on her haunches. “Just this once. I don’t want this to become a habit.”

“It won’t!” Pinkie settled back down, resting her head against the pillow. “I promise.”

Fluttershy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay. Ready?”

“Yep!”

When Fluttershy opened her eyes, their glow had intensified to the point that it cast flickering shadows. A blue haze welled up around the edge of her vision. Pinkie’s expression went completely vacant as Fluttershy made eye contact.

“I’m going to count back from twenty. By the time I reach one, you will have fallen into a deep sleep. You will not wake from this sleep until I say ‘Good morning, Pinkie Pie.’” She paused briefly, letting her instructions sink in. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Pinkie droned.

“Good. Let’s begin. Twenty… nineteen… eighteen…”

The closer Fluttershy came to “one,” the further Pinkie’s eyelids descended, her breathing and heart rate slowing to a relaxed pace. Only when Pinkie had drifted off did Fluttershy allow herself to blink, the flickering glow of her eyes snuffed out. Their normal, delicate aura washed against Pinkie as Fluttershy leaned in closer, spending a moment just watching her sleep.

“I wish I could join you,” she lamented. Feeling a bit melancholy, but smiling fondly, she kissed Pinkie on the lips and whispered, “Goodnight, my love.”

This time, as she went through the motions of getting out of bed, Pinkie was unresponsive. The beginnings of a snore reached Fluttershy’s ears just as she stepped out into the hall, quietly closing the door behind her. Another, closer rumble of thunder rattled through the house as she descended the staircase, stopping at the front door to slip into a rain poncho.

The smell of early spring rain rushed to greet her as she stepped out into the night; a dank scent that hinted at the blooming to come. High above, a puffy, rolling patchwork of storm clouds blanketed the sky, offering an occasional glimpse of the moon. A powerful gust pulled at her hood and made the bare branches sway and groan, as though they were reaching for the clouds, begging for more. She looked ahead, through the dark and the fog, and made her way down the path to the main road.

Houses lined both sides of the road now, hugging the perimeter of Luna’s castle and skirting the edge of the cliff, some more loosely spaced than others. Fluttershy reflected on her former concern about the influx of neighbors. They respected her privacy for the most part, with the exception of the occasional colt or filly that wanted to climb her trees or play with the animals that lived in her yard. She didn’t even consider that to be a bother, since she enjoyed teaching them about nature.

A pair of ponies trotted briskly down the street, accompanied by a rather short diamond dog. They brought Fluttershy out of her thoughts as they all bid her “good evening.” Zecora lived in the opposite direction from which they had come. The decision to pay her a visit came suddenly.

I haven’t seen her in a while, Fluttershy mused. I wonder if she would mind me stopping by to say hello.

Less than a minute later, Fluttershy stood at Zecora’s front door, hesitating to knock. She had just started to turn away when the door creaked open, meeting Zecora’s curious stare.

The zebra smiled, opening her door the rest of the way. “Ah! Fluttershy, my dear. On such a night, what brings you here?”

“I was feeling…” Fluttershy glanced away, an ear folding back. “Well, restless, so I thought that I would take a walk, and then I thought maybe I would pay you a visit.” She cautiously returned Zecora’s gaze. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Yes, of course, it’s more than okay.” Zecora nodded, stepping aside and gesturing into her home. “By all means, you’re welcome to stay.”

Hearing that brought a delicate smile to Fluttershy’s lips. Zecora gently closed the door behind her, passing by as Fluttershy shed her poncho and hung it beside several of Zecora’s cloaks.

Fluttershy spent a moment at the door, letting her gaze wander over the interior of Zecora’s home. The construction was clearly of pony design, a far cry from her former home in the Everfree, but she had effectively made it her own. Rows of dried roots, leaves, and flowers hung from the ceiling, a small fraction of which Fluttershy had only heard of or read about. Several painted masks hung from the walls, while every available shelf and table had been covered with corked bottles and candles. A large, black pot rested within the fireplace, bubbling in rhythm with the fire crackling beneath it. All telltale signs of an alchemist were present, and the smell of the place drifted somewhere between spicy and earthy, much to her delight.

“I was not expecting you,” Zecora called from the other end of the room, “so please bear with me.” She stepped into her kitchen, adding, “Once the water is hot, I’ll make you some tea.”

The pegasus nodded, approaching one of the large cushions laid out in front of the fireplace. “I would like that very much, thank you.” Fluttershy set herself down carefully, surprised to find that the cushion felt more like a cloud than cotton.

Zecora stepped back into view moments later, smiling as she sat across from Fluttershy. “So tell me, if you will, how is Pinkie? Her own business; she must be quite happy!”

“Oh, yes, she’s been rushing around all week getting ready for the grand opening.” Fluttershy giggled quietly. “I don’t think I would be able to handle that much stress, but she seems to love it.” Her smile faded. “I hope that doesn’t change once she’s actually in business, though.”

Zecora nodded, glancing up in thought. “No one knows her better than you. Do you think she’ll bite off more than she can chew?”

“Just a little. I feel bad for worrying, though.” Fluttershy looked down at the cushion under her, gently pawing at it with a forehoof. “I’m supposed to believe in her and support her.”

“Do you?”

Fluttershy lifted her head, meeting Zecora’s gaze. “Absolutely.”

“Then, my dear,” Zecora began with a smile, “you have nothing to fear.”

“Tonight, though, she—” The pegasus glanced away again, biting her lip. “She asked me to hypnotize her, to help her sleep. I… I don’t really like bringing up my… you know, my powers, I guess, and she knows that. I think she just forgot, so I did as she asked, but now I… it made me...” She swallowed, trying to figure out how to say what she wanted to say. “I can’t stop thinking about Mahara.”

“I can see how that would disturb you, indeed.” Zecora nodded slowly, shifting her weight. “Somepony to talk to, is that what you need?”

Fluttershy shrank back, peering up at Zecora. “I don’t want to be a bother. I can leave if you’d like.”

“Certainly not; you are my friend. If you are concerned, my aid I will lend. It‘s better to speak than bottle your woe. What is it that troubles you so?”

“I’m just… it’s hard to really explain. I love Pinkie Pie, with all my heart, but sometimes I find myself thinking about being with Mahara.” Fluttershy shook her head, ears pinning back. “No, that’s not it. I don’t want to be with her, or anything like that, but… I wonder what would have happened if she had stayed, what my life would be like right now.” Looking down at the floor offered no distraction from her guilt, nor did closing her eyes. She heaved a deep breath, adding, “And that just makes me feel awful, like I’m cheating without actually cheating. Does that make sense?”

“Your ties with her were quite violently severed. It’s only natural that what-ifs are endeavored.” Zecora briefly glanced into the fire. “Are you unhappy with Pinkie Pie? If something is missing, that may be why.”

Fluttershy’s attention snapped forward, eyes wide, and feeling as though the wind had been knocked out of her. “I’m very happy with Pinkie. I want this to go away so that I can continue being happy with her, and I know I need help dealing with this, but I…”

She squeezed her eyes shut, her whole body tensing. “I don’t know if this is something she can help me get over… I know I’m not actually doing anything wrong when I start thinking about Mahara, but it’s…” Her eyes opened again, following grooves in the floorboards. “I’m worried it would make her uncomfortable if she knew.”

“Then, my advice would be to find a sense of closure.” Zecora heaved a deep sigh. “Though how you’ll do that is beyond my composure.”

“I just want to know if she’s doing alright wherever Celestia sent her. I want to believe that she’s safe and happy, but…” She locked eyes with the zebra, her brow heavy. “Zecora… in the time since Mahara has been banished… have you ever tried to use… clairvoyance? Can you still see through her eyes?”

For several moments, Zecora sat in silence. Then, without a word, she stood got to her hooves and made her way to a full length mirror. “I tried once, a few nights after her leaving. I believe the other realm is beyond our perceiving. Despite my best efforts, I could not see. Nothing but darkness was revealed to me."

Fluttershy followed her, meeting her gaze via reflection. “Could you teach me how to do it?”

Zecora turned away from the mirror, her expression almost vacant. Before Zecora could say anything, a shrill whistle sounded from the kitchen, drawing their attention. The zebra flashed a little smile and casually crossed the room. From where Fluttershy stood, she could see Zecora moving around the kitchen, carefully filling two cups with steaming water and lowering a teabag into each. She returned with a wooden tray balanced across her back, her every step so careful that the cups didn’t so much as rattle.

“I will teach you how to see through eyes not your own, but I can’t promise success greater than I’ve known.” She set the cups on a nearby table, resting the tray against it as well. “Stare into the eyes of your own reflection. Think of Mahara; do not force a direction.”

Fluttershy glanced between the mirror and Zecora. “That’s it?”

The zebra nodded slowly, blowing on her tea before taking a sip. “You are more than welcome to practice it here. I just hope what you see will help your thoughts clear.”

The pegasus gave a deep nod, smiling. “Thank you so much, Zecora. This means the world to me. I just… um… there’s one other thing I would ask of you.”

Arching a brow, Zecora looked up from her tea. “Mm?”

Fluttershy made an effort to speak, but she nearly choked on what she intended to say. Zecora tilted her head, but Fluttershy lifted her hoof, gesturing her to wait. She took a deep breath, calming herself and finding her voice.

“Please don’t tell Pinkie about what we discussed, or that you taught me how to do this.” Fluttershy sat down by the mirror, cautiously making eye contact. “I don’t like to keep secrets, but…”

Zecora nodded, slow and solemn. “You need not worry, I understand. Telling Pinkie is not what I’ve planned.”

“Thank you,” Fluttershy said with a sigh.

The guilt lingered, but the more she reassured herself that keeping it a secret was for Pinkie Pie’s own good, the more she felt comfortable with it. She looked to Zecora, then the mirror, exhaling slowly as she met the gaze of her own reflection.

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“And how soon might I expect the next shipment?”

A few wrinkles formed along Rarity’s nose as she lifted her glasses closer with her magic, carefully scanning the next line of the invoice spread out before her. As usual, the lighting within the subterranean grotto was exceptionally poor for her tastes, so she levitated a lantern off the wall and brought it closer for good measure. The flickering firelight made it somewhat easier to read.

“Soon as it’s done, Pony Rarity,” replied the diamond dog standing across from her. “We’re on schedule, like always.”

The unicorn glanced up from her reading, one brow raised, to discover that the diamond dog was grinning. She lowered her glasses, grinning a little herself.

“That’s what I like to hear. I’ve come to expect nothing less of you.” She tilted her head, adding, “But, that’s Miss Rarity to you, Mister Rover. It wouldn’t do for an associate to refer to me as pony anything.”

Rover snickered, putting his paws in the pockets of his vest. “Whatever you say, Miss Pony Rarity.”

Rarity slipped off her glasses and closed them with a little snap. “Do I detect sarcasm in your voice, Mister Rover?”

“Sarcasm? Never.” He pulled something out of his vest, casually inspecting it between two of his claws. The bulk of his paw kept it concealed. “I have the utmost respect for you, Miss Pony Rarity.”

Scowling, Rarity stepped around the slab of stone she had been using as a table. “Is there something you wish to discuss with me?”

Rover glanced up from what he had from between his claws, lowering it just enough for Rarity to identify it as a diamond the size of a chicken’s egg. Her expression immediately changed to one of delight.

“Oh my!” She regained her composure immediately after her outburst, adding, “Is that part of the shipment?”

“What, this?” He took a few steps closer, turning it over in his paw. “If you want it, it’ll cost extra.”

With one ear cocked, Rarity took a careful step forward, lowering her nose and narrowing her eyes. “Extra? Are we negotiating now?”

“Negotiating? No. I make an offer, and you either take it or leave it.” Rover flashed a toothy grin, bringing the diamond closer to his eye and peering through it. “Very good quality, this one.”

“Is that to say that I’m getting merchandise of inferior quality? You expect me to beg for anything better than scraps?” Rarity stood her ground, lifting her head. “Need I remind you that I’m your only client?”

“Not at all. Just, this one is better than the rest.” The diamond vanished back into Rover’s vest pocket, and he stepped right up to her. “And you were our only client. Other ponies are starting to see how useful we are.”

“Digging those tunnels for the telegraph lines was done on commission basis and you know it!” Rarity stomped and huffed, glaring up at him. “We have a contract, and I am your employer!”

“You’re saying you got leash on me, and I should drop it like a good boy?” He arched a brow, looping his claw through his spiked collar and leaning down until he was nose to nose with her. “What if I wanna bite the hoof that feeds me?”

She swallowed, eyes wide as Rover stared back at her. Words failed her.

There was wildness in his eyes that gave Rarity reason to pause. The feeling in her breast reminded her of fear, but she couldn’t quite put it in that category. If anything, it felt closer to admiration of his sheer audacity. Eventually, he grinned and started to settle back, but not before the sound of Trixie’s voice shattered the silence.

“Hey, are you two done in here? We’re all finished loading up and… huh.”

Trixie came to a dead stop, glancing between the two of them. Startled and frozen in place, the diamond dog and the unicorn returned her blank stare, then jerked away from one another in unison.

“Is the Great and Powerful Trixie interrupting something?” A wide grin spread across her lips. “She can come back if—”

Rarity cleared her throat and quickly said, “Just discussing business.” She crossed back to the stone slab on which she had been reviewing the invoice, folding it up and slipping it into her saddle bag. “We’ll be along presently.”

“Yeah, sure. Business.” Trixie turned back the way she had come, snickering as she slipped out of sight.

Left alone again, Rarity gave Rover another long look, cocking a brow. Rover put his paws back in his vest and tilted his head, donning a toothy grin. She considered resuming the argument, but settled on leaving it alone for the time being. The sound of Trixie’s hooves on stone echoed through the winding tunnel ahead, joined shortly by the resounding clip-clop of Rarity’s own trot. The two-beat gait of the diamond dog behind her was much softer by comparison, the click of his claws barely carrying into an echo.

The dimly lit tunnel opened into a much larger cavern after a few moments of walking, busy with diamond dogs and more than a few ponies. At the center of all the activity were dozens of enormous crates, each one stamped with a short sequence of numbers and letters to designate their contents. True to Trixie’s word, the crates had been loaded onto a series of wagons and strapped into place. Several diamond dogs nodded to Rarity as she passed by, a few of them including “Boss” in their greetings. Just hearing it made Rarity shiver with pride.

“If everything is in order,” Rarity announced as Rover helped her up onto one of the crates, “I do believe we should begin moving these materials to Duskhoof.”

“You heard the lady!” Rover sternly barked.

Pony and diamond dog alike fastened themselves into the wagon harnesses without delay. Rarity dismounted the crate as stoppers were removed from beneath the wagon wheels, and soon enough, her precious cargo was in motion, slowly rolling toward the open mouth of the cave.

Rarity had made the mistake of stepping straight out into daylight on several prior visits, but this time, she was spared direct sunlight by the storm clouds overhead. The scenery around Rambling Rock Ridge was as bleak as she remembered. The grey haze of overcast certainly didn’t help. She cast a sideways glance to Rover, the diamond dog keeping steady pace with her as they walked alongside the wagons. A dull buzz of chatter between wagon pullers mixed with the rattle and crystalline shifting of the carts and their cargo, none of which held her attention beyond passing interest.

With nothing of interest to occupy her thoughts, she found herself thinking back to their earlier argument.

Am I wrong to feel that I should be given that diamond free of charge? I’m providing more than a fair sum of bits for their services, and I’m hardly unreasonable with the quantity and frequency of my orders. She grinned as Rover sneezed, rubbing his nose with the back of his fuzzy wrist. But then, you did dangle it right in front of me, and I took the bait.

Rover idly glanced over at her, his gaze wandering until he made eye contact. As if suddenly realizing that she was staring right back, he quickly snapped his attention forward, his pace faltering for an instant. Rarity giggled quietly, following his example and turning her gaze to the forest ahead at a much more casual speed.

You sly dog.

A few moments passed before he mumbled, “Something on your mind, Miss Rarity?”

“Nothing in particular.” Rarity suppressed her grin as she looked toward him. “I suppose I’m just wondering if we should turn back and put canvas over these crates. Were it to rain—”

“Wouldn’t make sense to go back for rain-proofing. We’re almost to the edge of the forest.” He snickered and added, “You worried about your gems getting wet?”

Rarity sighed, smiled, and shook her head. “No, I suppose not. We had best continue on, then. I’m in no hurry to get wet.”

As they entered the Everfree forest, the scenery improved, if only slightly. The road which connected the diamond dog mines to the rest of pony society was still rather crude. She knew that the canines had put forth a great effort in cutting a wide swath through the forest, and then pulling up the stumps and leveling the earth. It was certainly adequate, but it lacked pony finesse, and it seemed as though the very nature of the surrounding forest made the soil unruly. This meant that riding the wagons from their mines to the main road into Duskhoof was out of the question, as Rarity had learned the first and only time she attempted to do so.

Forked, barren branches stretched over the road on either side, but the gloom of the Everfree Forest was lessened without a dense layer of foliage to block out the sun. Rarity knew that by mid spring, the forest’s shadowy nature would be alive and ominous once more. The deeper they pressed into the forrest, the more conversations were hushed, until they had ceased all together. The silence of the forest hung over the caravan like a cloak. All ponies and diamond dogs present showed respect for the untamed wilderness though which they tread, ears perked and eyes wide, alert for any sign of danger. Without Zecora acting as an escort, Rarity couldn’t help but share in their unease.

A palpable wave of relief rolled over the party as an intersection came into view. Not far ahead, the packed, uneven earth of the road abruptly gave way to a road of paved cobblestone that stretched off in opposite directions. Several carriages rattled by, some on their way to Duskhoof, others on their way to Ponyville. When the coast was clear, Rover looked back and waved the caravan onward, lifting Rarity onto one of the passing wagons. Once all the wagons had safely merged onto the main road, he caught up to her wagon and leapt up beside her.

“Rover,” Rarity began as he got comfortable, “if you really want me to pay out of pocket for that beauty of a diamond, I could be persuaded to do so.” Grinning, she added, “Not without a bit of haggling, of course.”

“Nah, I was just kidding around.” He plucked the jewel from his vest and held it out for her. “You can have it, boss.”

“At least accept a little bonus as compensation.” A smile broke across her lips as she levitated it away from his paw. Even in the cloud-dimmed light, it sparkled. “After all, this piece is a cut above the rest of this shipment, no?”

“It uh…” Rover looked away, scratching the back of one paw with the other. “It wasn’t part of this shipment. Found it in my free time.”

Rarity’s brows shot up. “Oh!” She put a hoof on his shoulder, still carefully inspecting the diamond floating in front of her face. “In that case, I refuse to pay anything less than full price.”

“Rari—” Rover cleared his throat, lifting his paw, hesitating, and then letting it drop. “Miss Rarity, I want you to have it. You know…” He turned toward her just enough that she could see the sheepish smile on his muzzle. “Like a gift.”

Again, Rarity found herself speechless. She withdrew her hoof as she looked between the diamond and the dog several times, mustering every ounce of restraint she could manage before finally murmuring, “I couldn’t. What have I done to deserve such magnificent stone?”

Rover looked skyward, his brow furrowing. “When we met years ago, you saw us as monsters because we acted like monsters. What we did was wrong, selfish, but…” He smiled, meeting her gaze again. “You came back anyway, because you thought that we could be more than monsters. Other ponies are starting to see that in us, too.”

Rarity glanced down as she felt his paw against her forehoof. He added, “And that’s because of you. So… thank you.”

“Oh, Rover, I…” She realized she was whispering, and immediately after that, felt the blush burning across her face. “I don’t know what to say.”

He shook his head, leaning toward her. “You don’t—”

A loud honk caused the both of them to jump. The diamond tumbled out of her levitation and landed on the crate under them. As Rover frantically slapped his paws around around to recapture it, she found the source of the noise. A carriage rolled by without the aid of ponies, chugging out puffs of black smoke through a smoke stack in the rear. After passing the caravan, it sped off toward Ponyville, leaving a trail of clouds of soot in its wake. The caravan slowed down after that, wagon-pullers chattering excitedly.

“What was that?!” Rover barked, his ears pinned back.

“I do believe that was an auto-carriage.” She nodded to herself, turning her attention back to Rover. “They’ve become quite trendy in major cities, so I suppose it’s only natural that we would start seeing them out here as well.”

With one ear still folded back, Rover asked, “It moves on its own?”

Rarity tilted her head, lifting a hoof. “Well, no. There’s a pony inside, driving it, but it doesn’t need anypony to pull it. I’ve considered buying one myself, truthfully.”

“Thinking of replacing us, Miss Rarity?” Rover teased.

Feigning insult, Rarity mused, “I may be a shrewd business mare, but I’m not heartless.” She smiled, locking eyes with Rover. “No, I don’t believe I could replace you if I tried.”

\/ /\ /\ \/

Scootaloo nickered quietly as she checked the buckles of her harness for what Pinkie counted as the seventh time since slipping it on. She had a map tucked under one wing, and a box wrapped in brown paper secured to her back by several velcro straps. The flight goggles she had pressed up on her forehead reflected a bit of sunlight from under her mane. It was a picturesque spring day, and the sky was clear as crystal, but the mid-season winds were as intense as ever. A strong breeze swayed the budding trees and whistled over the surrounding roof tops, pulling at Pinkie’s mane, tail and apron. She glanced back to watch Scootaloo take the map between her teeth, spreading her wings and giving a few test flaps. Another roaring wind nearly lifted her off the ground as it caught her by the wings.

“Jeeze!” Scootaloo shouted as she pointed her wings straight up, laughing and dropping back to all fours.

“Pretty choppy out today!” Pinkie commented as she began to scan the horizon. “You sure you wanna fly this one?”

Grinning and wrinkling her nose, Scootaloo quipped, “You don’t pay me to take my sweet time making deliveries, Pinkie! Of course I’m going to make the run by air!”

“Aaaalright then!” Pinkie Pie shouted as she made her way to the enormous sling-shot mounted on the highest point of the roof.

She knelt down to check the series of bolts that fastened the sling-shot to the roof, making sure they wouldn’t pop loose under stress. Her attention shifted to the slingshot itself after that, putting all her weight against the wooden Y to make sure it could bend without snapping. After going through these motions eight or nine times a day, it had become nearly second nature, and she finished the safety check in under a minute. Scootaloo was giving her delivery harness one last once-over, concluding with a vigorous shake to make sure the package on her back wouldn’t come loose mid-flight.

Pinkie pulled a lever at the base of the sling-shot, swiveling it until she had lined it up with the direction of the wind. She pulled the lever again to lock it into place, then looked Scootaloo in the eyes. “Ready?”

Scootaloo backed into the elastic band, tucking her hinds, and then putting one foreleg after the other onto the wooden frame. With a single, swift flick of her head, her flight goggles dropped over her eyes. She glanced back at Pinkie from behind mirrored lenses and grinned. “Ready!”

Satisfied, Pinkie put her forelegs on Scootaloo’s hips and began to pull. The elastic creaked softly as it stretched, with Scootaloo carefully balancing herself in the middle.

“One!” Scootaloo cried, lifting her forelegs off of the frame and curling up as straight and tight as she could.

“Two!” Pinkie shouted, gritting her teeth as—at two full pony lengths from the frame— the pull of the elastic began to sap her strength.

In unison, they screamed, “Three!”

Pinkie let go of Scootaloo, and with a snap, the pegasus became a speeding blur, sailing high over the rooftops with a gleeful squeal. There were orders to make and customers to serve, but Pinkie spared a moment to sit back and smile, watching as Scootaloo cut through the air, becoming little more than a speck on the horizon over Ponyville. She sighed happily and turned toward the roof hatch, tugging it open against the breeze and sliding down the ladder.

The ladder deposited her in the stock room of the bakery, between several tall stacks of flour sacks. She moved briskly down the aisle, stepping around a young, lanky unicorn that she had come to know Decaf, hired just a week prior. Organization was what he claimed as his best quality, and it certainly seemed to be what he excelled at, further suggested by the image of an index card on his mocha flank. He was busy gathering ingredients, as she had asked him to, but realizing that she had missed a chance to say hello gave her reason to pause. She came to a full stop and back peddled.

“Hey! So, how are you liking Duskhoof?” she asked, flashing a smile.

The colt glanced up from his levitating clipboard, his green tea colored eyes simultaneously startled and cheerful. “Oh, uh… yeah, it’s pretty cool so far. They just finished building the school.” He nodded, a few lemon sherbet locks falling into his face. “I got to see my classroom for the first time yesterday.”

A few jars rattled as Pinkie leaned against a shelf. “Back to school? You must be pretty excited, huh?”

“Mmhmm!” He nodded eagerly, displacing his mane to the point that he had to brush it out of his eyes. “It’s only been a month since we moved here from Canterlot, but I really missed going to school. I can’t wait to start learning again.”

“You remind me of a friend of mine. Total egghead!” Pinkie flashed a nervous smile and shook her head. “Not that you’re an egghead! I just mean that she really loved reading and learning! It was supposed to be a compliment!”

“I was the best student in my grade.” He snickered, lifting his head proudly. “I do take that as a compliment.”

“Terrific! Anyway, I’ll let you get back to it.” She turned and cantered toward the kitchen. “Don’t be a stranger if you need a hoof!”

For Pinkie Pie, getting back to work was never something to dread, and becoming her own boss had only made her work that much more enjoyable. She tried her hardest to make sure her employees could share in her enthusiasm, especially since nearly her entire staff was composed of close friends. Seeing the kitchen empty and the cooler door wide open was consequently a sign that something was amiss. Her breath fogged just slightly when she peered into the chamber. Ditzy Doo stood within, swaying in front of a shelf of un-frosted cakes. She muttered something, then let loose with a long snore, ears flicking.

“Heyooo,” The pink pony called, setting hoof inside. “You got everything under control in here?”

Ditzy jolted, wings snapping to full span and tail flicking. “I swear I delivered it to the right address!”

Pinkie crossed the cold, metal floor, snickering. “I know you did, silly. You’ve been doing a great job, you’re a natural delivery mare.”

“Thanks.” Ditzy’s smile was half hearted.

“I’m not mad, but I keep catching you napping on the job.” The curls of Pinkie’s mane bobbed as she tilted her head. “You okay?

“No…” Ditzy turned toward her, but didn’t make eye contact. “Haven’t been getting much sleep. I know how stupid this sounds, but I keep having nightmares about getting fired. Then again, I guess that’s just as stupid as having nightmares about not studying for tests.” She glanced up, meeting Pinkie’s gaze with her good eye, her expression blank. “And I still get those sometimes.”

Pinkie came closer, lifting a hoof to Ditzy’s shoulder. “Ditzy, even if you screw up a delivery, I’m not going to fire you.”

“That’s what the Postmaster said, too, and look how that went. I’m eventually going to screw up, and I’m eventually going to screw up so bad that even you’ll want nothing to do with me.” The pegasus shook her head, sighing. “I just know it.”

“Aw, come on, don’t say that! You’re totally one of my bestest friends!” Pinkie wrapped her other foreleg around the back of Ditzy’s neck, pulling her in for a hug.

“Besides, even if you deliver a cake to the wrong address, that’s like, awesome marketing.” She turned her head to the side, grinning and deepening her voice. “Sometimes On a Wing and a Pastry delivers free pastries to a random address for free!” She turned back to Ditzy, brows arched. “We could pretend they won a raffle or something, make it seem totally legit!”

“Yeah… yeah, alright.” Ditzy sighed again, but a smile followed it. “Thanks, Pinkie.”

Pinkie grinned, giving Ditzy another squeeze. “Anytime.” She took a step back, tapping a hoof. “Not to cut this short, but I gotta get back to work. You gonna be alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Ditzy gave a nod, her smile seeming much more genuine. “Sorry to worry you.”

“That’s what friends are foooor,” Pinkie sang as she stepped out of the cooler.

Fluttershy stepped in from the shop front at around the same time, flashing a little smile as Pinkie trotted up to her. The pegasus spread a wing, wrapping Pinkie in soft plumage and holding her close. Touching noses turned into a peppering of kisses, and then back to nuzzling. Pinkie sighed happily, Fluttershy’s face buried in the side of her neck.

“Still busy?” she murmured, nibbling the tip of Fluttershy’s ear.

“Not so much.” Fluttershy replied, giggling and flicking her ear. “The lunch rush is dying down. We’re running low on twelve grain and we’re down to the last three scones. The coffee cake isn’t really selling today, though, and we still have plenty of cupcakes and sweet rolls on reserve.”

Pinkie Pie leaned back, smiling as she met Fluttershy’s radiant gaze. “Alright, I was just about to get back to baking. Twelvies and sconies are priority!”

As if on cue, Decaf trotted into the kitchen, a bag of flour slung across his back, and a cloud of other ingredients levitating around his head. Pinkie smiled and pecked Fluttershy on the nose, but there was a vacancy in her stare, as though her thoughts were elsewhere. She came out of it as Pinkie nudged her, grinning and cocking her head.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” The pink pony leaned in closer, her grin widening. “Last night?” she whispered, arching a brow.

In an instant, Fluttershy’s face had flushed a gentle shade of pink. She made a small, pleasant sound not unlike a laugh, but shook her head. “Well now I am…” She smiled and nuzzled in closer, snickering quietly.

Pinkie giggled, nibbling on her ear again. “What were you thinking about before that, then?”

“Oh, um…” Fluttershy shook her head, looking down at the floor. “It’s nothing. Didn’t you say you needed to get back to work?”

“Aw, what?” As she said this, Ditzy pushed her way out of the cooler, carrying a bucket of frosting with each wing. Pinkie flashed her a smile and a nod, then returned her attention to Fluttershy. “I can put off baking for another few minutes. What’s on your mind?”

Attempting to turn away, Fluttershy took a few steps to the side, but Pinkie moved around to block her. “No, it’s okay,” the pegasus murmured. “Really.”

“Come oooon,” Pinkie nearly whined, pressing her nose to Fluttershy’s. “Tell meeee.”

Fluttershy continued to avoid eye contact. “I’d rather not—”

“Pleeeeeeease?” Pinkie interrupted, with puppy-dog eyes.

Fluttershy wrinkled her nose, fighting a smile. “All that construction Luna hired the diamond dogs to do underground?” Her cheer quickly evaporated. “Well, they started digging around under our house this morning, a little while after you left to open.”

Pinkie cocked her head. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. It feels like we’re getting hit with an earthquake when they’re at work. I know Rarity reassured everypony that they’re experts, and that it’s perfectly safe for them to carve into the rock under the town, but all the noise…” Fluttershy shook her head, ears splaying. “None of the animals like it. I don’t like it.”

Pinkie slowly nodded along, and when Fluttershy had finished speaking, she simply said, “Yikes.”

“Yeah,” Fluttershy mumbled through tense lips. “And I hope they finish soon, because I don’t know how you’re going to sleep through that.”

“Well, I’m sure they’ll be done soon! And anyway, you don’t need to worry about me sleeping, because you can always just hyp—” Pinkie snapped her mouth shut so fast that she heard her own teeth clack, but Fluttershy’s stare had already turned cold. Rapidly shaking her head, Pinkie began to repeatedly shout, “I’m sorry!”

“It’s fine.” Fluttershy mumbled. “Besides, that’s not what was really bothering me.”

“You didn’t say anything was bothering you, Shy!” Pinkie redoubled the effort to cheer up her partner, wiggling her ears and arching her brows. “What’s got you down?”

“Pinkie, we’re…” Briefly, Fluttershy’s gaze wavered, then locked with Pinkie’s. “We’re still getting a lot of requests for meat pies, and I respect the diamond dog’s right to be carnivores, but…”

Fluttershy snorted softly, glancing away again. “It really bothers me that they would want us to make— to sell something like that. I mean, it would be different if they’re hunting to survive, but this is… they would be…” She took a deep breath, vigorously shaking her head. “What I’m trying to say is; I’m still not comfortable with the notion of making a profit selling dead animals.”

This was a subject that had already been thoroughly discussed on several occasions. Pinkie frowned, nodding slowly. “Okay, I guess I need to hang up a sign or something. I’m really, really sorry that they upset you again. Did you say anything when they asked you?”

“No. I didn’t want to risk making you lose business. I just told them that I would have to ask you about it.” Fluttershy shivered and peered up at her, ears splaying. “I’m sorry that I keep bringing this up.”

Pinkie lifted a foreleg, giving her a squeeze. “Hey, it’s alright.” Fluttershy’s silence weighed heavily on her. “Is there something else you wanna tell me?”

“I…” Fluttershy swallowed, her lips moving without sound for a moment. She glanced away from Pinkie, her gaze sweeping the room.

“Aaaaand I’m back!” Scootaloo shouted from the front of the shop, accompanied by a jingling of bells as the door opened and closed.

Fluttershy took a deep breath, motioning toward the cooler. “Can we go somewhere private?”

“Sure,” Pinkie almost whispered, her ears drooping.

Without saying another word, Fluttershy pulled away and crossed the kitchen, silently slipping into the cooler. Pinkie Pie glanced over her withers, meeting looks of concern from all ponies present.

“Hey, is everything alright?” Scootaloo asked from the kitchen entrance, seeming more confused than anything.

Pinkie forced a smile. “Yep! Everything’s peachy! Nothing to worry about!”

Her smile vanished as she pulled open the door to the cooler, quickly closing it behind her.

“I know you really love living here,” Fluttershy began the very instant the door clicked shut. She hung her head as she spoke, staring at the floor. “Having your own bakery and you own house, but… do you ever miss living in Ponyville?”

Hoping her enthusiasm might spread, Pinkie nodded eagerly. “Sometimes! But hey, we’re not that far away! If going to the spa with Rarity isn’t enough, we can always visit just for the heck of it! I mean, Twilight and Spike are still out of town, but we could always go see Applejack and Rainbow Dash! I bet they’d love having us down on the farm! It’d be like old times!”

“That’s what I mean, Pinkie…” Fluttershy slowly lifted her gaze, the corners of her eyes wet with tears. “I miss the way things used to be. I miss my cottage. I miss walking into town in the morning to sell eggs and go grocery shopping. I miss being able to eat normal food whenever I’m hungry, instead of sucking blood. I miss being able to sleep.” She took a deep breath, fighting back a sob. “I miss being normal!”

“But Fluttershy,” Pinkie lowered her muzzle, gently nuzzling between Fluttershy’s ears. “If things were different, we might not be together.”

“And I would never want that to change.” Fluttershy carefully raised her head, nose to nose with Pinkie. “I love you, Pinkamena. I love you with all my heart. You’re the only thing in my life that makes this bearable, but… I just… It’s almost been a year, and it’s still so hard for me, living like this. I feel like it’s selfish to want my old life back and have you at the same time, but that’s what I want more than anything else.”

Fluttershy shuddered as she exhaled, a line of damp fur trailing down her cheek. “Am I just screwed up?” she whimpered. “Am I broken?”

“No, you’re not screwed up, and you’re not broken.” Pinkie found the strength to smile in the truth of her words. “You’re beautiful, and I love you. I’m here to help you, Fluttershy, and I know we can get through this.”

Very gently, she lifted a hoof to the side of Fluttershy’s face, sliding it to the back of her neck.

“Everything is gonna be fine. I Pinkie promise.”

\/ /\ /\ \/

As far as Twilight Sparkle could tell, the constant presence of ponies seemed to be having an effect on the very nature of the Everfree Forest.

When Duskhoof had been founded, it still had a sort of gloom about it that one might expect to see in the surrounding woodlands. In the winter of that same year, the ambient shade of Duskhoof seemed to have dissipated entirely, and the wildlife in the immediate area began to behave in a more docile and generally more intelligent fashion. Not more than a few months after her last visit, the change seemed to be spreading outward, beyond the borders of the town.

The air resonated with the music of birds, mingling with the laughter of foals and full grown ponies alike. Looking over all the fresh, green growth pushing out of the ground and from every swaying branch, picturesque came to mind, despite the fact that the town was still right in the center of a dangerous and mysterious forest. She very nearly forgot that she wasn’t in Ponyville as she walked down the street, returning the greetings of passersby. Seeing the occasional diamond dog or bat-winged pegasus served as a pleasant reminder to the contrary. She regarded it as a very strange place, but it had a sort of bizarre charm to it for the same reasons, like something out of a book.

A place where monsters and ponies live together, she mused to herself.

When she laid eyes on Zecora’s home, the nebulous mixture of her idle thoughts resolved into defined priorities, and the muted sounds of Celestia and Luna’s conversation became clearer.

“…haven’t heard from Saliant, I’m afraid.”

Twilight glanced back at the regal sisters, noting the way Celestia cracked a smile at Luna as she spoke. A small entourage of guards followed in the wake of the princesses, silent and alert, but calm; save for a single pegasus of the day guard. Twilight immediately remembered his face, but she could not put a name to it. His gaze swept past Twilight, barely making eye contact.

 “But then,” Celestia continued, “the dragons never did respect me as they respect you.”

Luna shook her head, and before Twilight turned her attention forward, she saw that Luna’s own lips had curled into a smile.

“Dragons are notoriously stubborn, sister. Do not take it to heart. However, I fear I have not had much success either. He has repeatedly, but respectfully declined my request to send a representative here. He—” Luna paused. “Or, at least, his peers seem to believe that the political atmosphere in Equestria would be unfavorable to them.”

Their combined hoofbeats slowed to a stop. “Ah, but we may discuss this further at another time. We have arrived.”

Twilight glanced back at them, nodding. “I’ll go let her know we’re here.”

On her way to the door, she overheard Celestia addressing someone in a rather hushed tone. Twilight lifted her hoof to Zecora’s door and knocked, but curiosity got the better of her as she waited. Peering out of the corner of her eye, Twilight saw that Celestia had pulled one of the guards aside. She recognized him as the one that had seemed anxious, but his name continued to elude her. Their words were quiet, but not enough that their conversation was inaudible.

“Cloud Burst, you gave me your word that your presence here would come without incident, and I intend to hold you to that.” Celestia’s voice was stern, but not aggressive. If anything, the way she had lowered her head, and the passive stance she had taken read more as concern. “So before we enter, I’ll ask you again: are you sure that you’ll be able to accompany us?”

“I did not insist on coming along to pick a fight with one of this town’s blood suckers.” Celestia’s brow furrowed, but he continued. “I am here to guarantee the safety of you, your sister, and Miss Sparkle in the event of—”

Celestia lifted her head so suddenly that he stopped short. “You know very well that Zecora is not a threat.” Narrowing her eyes and bringing her hooves closer together, the sun princess flatly added, “The presence of any guard on royal business is purely procedural, and you are no exception. If I detect a shred of antagonism from you, you’ll be cleaning the palace bathrooms for the rest of the month.”

Luna began to quietly snicker, but Celestia ignored her and lightly tapped her gilded forehoof against the cobblestone. “Am I understood?”

Cloud Burst bowed his head. “Yes, princess. I will not step out of line.”

“Good,” Celestia coldly replied.

Celestia looked up from the armored pegasus, seeming surprised to meet Twilight’s gaze. Twilight bristled as she realized that she had turned her head to watch, whipping her head around and staring intently at the door in front of her. It opened a moment later, revealing a zebra with squinted eyes and a sharp-toothed smile.

“Twilight, how good it is to see you!” Zecora tilted her head just slightly to the side, her ears swiveling forward. “And both royal sisters have come along, too?”

Twilight gave a cheerful nod. “Well, since this is already a collaborative effort, I thought that having them present for the process would shorten the amount of time and money we would have to spend editing and refining our notes through post.”

“I think this will sound like a silly question…” Zecora took a step back, into the dimmed light of her home. Her eyes emitted a soft glow as she opened them wider. “But are you planning on writing this book in one session?”

“Well…” Twilight glanced to the side. “No. But if I have everypony here at the same time, then I can ask for feedback on the notes I’m taking as I’m taking them.” She held herself proudly, her smile brimming with confidence. “That way we’ll get it written faster.”

Taking another step back and to the side, Zecora cocked a brow and snickered. “Forgive me for saying, but that’s far too ambitious. I’m afraid that writing is far more repetitious.” She laughed and gestured into her home. “But where are my manners!” She smiled to Twilight, then looked past her. “Please, come inside! In a short while, food and drink I’ll provide.”

Twilight returned the smile and nodded as she passed Zecora, turning to watch Luna, Celestia, and two guards file in behind her. All but Cloud Burst greeted the zebra in turn. He and Zecora came to a standstill in the doorway, locking eyes, but saying nothing. Cloud Burst began to say something, but then he abruptly turned away, leaving Zecora standing in a pool of sunlight. Her ears splayed, and she slowly closed the door. Twilight took a step toward her, but Zecora lifted a hoof and shook her head, gesturing toward the rest of the group. Sighing quietly, Twilight nodded and did as suggested.

Zecora’s home was lit mostly candles and her fireplace, with a few long rays of sunlight stretching across the floor from beneath windows with drawn curtains. Once the door was closed, the light level dropped dramatically, reducing Twilight’s surroundings to silhouettes. Zecora led them toward the fireplace, making a wide, sweeping gesture toward the various cushions spread across the floor. A circle of candles had been placed around the seating area, creating a mesh of flickering shadows.

She stood before the crackling flame for a moment, studying her guests, then fixed her gaze on Twilight. “Forgive me for asking if the cause is unpleasant, but is there a reason that Spike is not present?”

Twilight shook her head, carefully lowering herself onto a silk pillow. “He’s just visiting Rarity. He said he would join us later.”

“And how is Rarity taking to her work?” Celestia asked, her gaze drifting toward her sister, seated beside her.

“Astonishingly.” Luna’s smile glimmered through the flickering shadows. “She has yet to disappoint. Quite the opposite, in fact; she has exceeded my expectations at every opportunity.” Luna paused, shifting slightly, as if to get more comfortable in her seat. “I chose my seamstress well.”

“I find it fascinating that she was able to get the local diamond dogs to cooperate with her. More than that, they seem to be settling here as well. Is that correct?” Luna nodded in response. “You’ve established quite a remarkable community here, Luna.” Celestia smiled fondly at her sister, reaching out to rest a hoof on Luna’s wither. “I’m impressed.”

Luna closed her eyes and bowed, barely concealing her bashful smile. “I am only as accomplished as the ponies that live and work here.”

Celestia hummed softly, seeming to give that some thought. She met Twilight’s gaze a moment later. “So, for the sake of getting us all on the same page, Twilight, would you like to recap the goals of this project?”

“Yes, of course.”

Twilight levitated a roll of parchment out of her saddle bag and opened it. Without even needing to be asked, Zecora brought her a candle. Twilight smiled, nodded, and lifted it with her magic.

“Thank you. Okay, uh…” Her eyes darted over the parchment, straining to adjust to the added light.

“So, when I learned that an entire moment in history went mostly unrecorded… or, well, overshadowed is the better phrase, I guess. Anyway, it was a point in Equestrian history that did not receive the documentation it deserved.” She looked to Luna, then back to Celestia. “My first objective is to fill in the blanks behind your quarrel. Not so much the specifics of why you fought, but what was going on in the background as you fought.”

The sisters nodded, and Twilight continued. “My second objective is to educate the reader about ponies and zebras like Fluttershy and Zecora. I want the reader to be able to understand them better, instead of just looking at them like monsters. So…” She chewed her lower lip for a moment. “I want to explore some of the myths of zebra folklore regarding the Children of Nightmare, and if possible, disarm them. Similarly, I want to fully detail their needs and capabilities, to remove some of the mysticism that might lead some ponies to make bad assumptions.”

Twilight lowered the parchment, glancing around. “That’s all so far. What do you think?”

“Your priorities seem to be in order,” Celestia replied, smiling, “so you’re already off to a good start. I recall mention of several potential titles.”

Nodding slightly, Twilight returned her focus to the parchment. “I’ve narrowed it down a bit more, but the one I like the most is: Children of the Night: Fact, Fiction, and Physiology.”

“Rather direct,” Luna murmured. As Twilight looked up from the parchment, Luna gestured toward her with an upturned forehoof. “Please, continue.”

Twilight nodded, taking a deep breath. “Well, what that means is—”

A quick series of thumps at the front door made her jump. Celestia murmured something, and Twilight blinked rapidly as she glanced up from her notes and toward the source of the commotion. Zecora was already nearly to the door, the speed and silence with which the zebra moved startling her anew. Twilight squinted into the glare of day as the door opened. A short, bipedal silhouette occupied the frame.

“Hey Zecora,” Spike almost sighed. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Why do you frown with such severity?” Zecora turned to follow Spike as he moved past her, flicking the door closed with her hind leg. “Did you enjoy visiting Rarity?”

Spike stumbled in the darkness as he approached the flickering circle of candles. “No. I didn’t. And I don’t really want to talk about it. Let’s just do this book thing, okay?”

Twilight glanced back at Celestia and Luna, her eyes adjusting enough to note their own exchange of confused looks. They both turned their attention to Twilight, then Spike as the dragon knelt down beside her.

“Yes,” Celestia began after clearing her throat. “Twilight was just explaining the objectives of her work. I trust you’re familiar with the material already?”

“Yep,” Spike flatly replied, looking down at the floor.

Celestia frowned, glancing to her sister again. Luna offered a shrug. Again, all eyes turned toward Twilight.

Twilight leaned down to him, her nose practically bumping his ear-fin. “What’s wrong?” she whispered.

“ I just…” He let out a low sigh, wringing his claws. “I’ll tell you about it later, okay?” He looked up at her, forcing a smile. The wetness in the corners of his eyes told her that he had been crying recently. “Your number one assistant is here. Let’s get to it.”

With a slow nod and a gentle smile, Twilight reached out hugged him tightly to her side. He rubbed at his eyes a moment later, and then, nodding, held out his claws for a quill and a fresh roll of parchment. A flood of fond memories filled her with a sense of nostalgic joy as she watched him shift into a more writing friendly position.

It was Luna’s voice that brought her back to reality. “Twilight, you were going to explain something?”

“Right! Sorry.” Twilight shook her head a bit, sifting through her thoughts. A grin spread over her lips when she got her train of thought back on the rails. “The contents will be divided into three sections.”

Twilight un-tucked a foreleg and divided an invisible line with three chops. “Facts would be things like… the history behind the Children of Nightmare; how and why they were created, the part they played in the conflict, and what became of them after the conflict ended.” She gauged the expressions of her audience, pleased that they were giving her their full attention. “So while that will be largely for Celestia and Luna to consider, it will also include much more recent events, right up to the present.

“Fiction would be more along the lines of folklore.” Twilight nodded toward the zebra. “Zecora, that will be your field, more or less, and I say that because it doesn’t seem like any relevant stories survived in pony culture.” She swept her extended foreleg toward the princesses. “But if either of you have things you’d like to contribute, every little bit will be helpful. Things like… stories from the conflict, or rumors that circulated after the conflict had ended.”

A round of nodding swept through the equines seated before Twilight. Taking their silence and attentiveness as a sign that there were no questions, she leaned toward Spike and murmured, “Did I miss anything?”

The dragon shook his head, idly tapping the feathered end of his quill against the parchment. “Nuh-uh. Sounds about right to me.”

“Great.” Twilight settled back onto her cushion and smiled. “Lastly, physiology. Since Fluttershy doesn’t really want to be a part of this project, I’ll be mostly relying on Luna and Zecora regarding the physical and supernatural nature of Children of—”

Twilight came to an abrupt stop as Spike’s claw shot into the air, waving from side to side. She gave him a squinting glance, unable to resist the urge to grin.

“Yes, Spike?”

Spike cleared his throat, letting his claw drop. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but...” he glanced from Twilight to Luna. “Are we going to refer to Children of Nightmare by their full title each time they come up in text?”

The night princess scrunched her lips to one side, deep shadows forming as she wrinkled her nose. “I suppose that name is rather cumbersome. I wanted them to sound extravagant and mighty, but now it just sounds rather… excessive.”

Twilight glanced around, all present nodding in agreement. Luna began to smile now, directing her attention to Zecora. “And I would be lying if I said that I had not given consideration to giving my creations a new title.”

“What did you have in mind?” Celestia asked, her raised brow and her smirk betraying her amusement.

Luna hardly noticed, giving the zebra her full attention. “Zecora, would you be at all opposed to being called a duskhoof?”

Spike made a soft, confused sound, tilting his head. “As in, the name of this town?”

Luna nodded. “The plural of which would be duskhooves.” She stifled a quiet giggle. “I know it sounds a bit silly, I just thought that, rather than regarding them as a reflection of my mistakes... their name should reflect the good I’ve done.” Luna smiled, lifting her hoof toward Zecora. “Does this please you?”

For a long few moments, silence settled over the room. Zecora briefly looked to the floor, and then, lifting her head and glancing from face to face, began to nod.

“I can find no fault with this name change.” Her smile became a toothy grin, fangs glistening in candle light. “Next to words like ‘pegasuses’, duskhoof isn’t so strange.”

“We’ll make a note of that in the preface,” Twilight said as she flashed a smile to Spike, who was already busy jotting it down. “So, I suppose we should start with ancient history. Luna, Celestia, how would you like to begin?”

\/ /\ /\ \/