When I open my eyes, I’m not in my bed. There is birdsong and morning light all around me. As I take in my surroundings, I realize that I am not only in a wooded clearing; I’m not even in Equestria anymore. Straight above me are high-voltage power lines, and I’m lying in the middle of a track worn into the ground. The longer I stare, the more I realize that I’m on a power line access road, and a familiar one at that.

Slowly, I push myself onto my hooves, but that’s child’s play. My mind is too full of questions right now to contemplate my hooves. The obvious question is how I ended up on Earth again. My real worry is the why—not just why I’m on Earth, either. Picking my direction along the access, all I can wonder is why I’m so close to home.

All paths eventually lead to a choice, and this one is no different. Do I take the path that branches off, heading into the subdivision proper, or do I continue on until I reach the brook that crosses through the back yard? Chancing a glance at my wings, I sigh. There are no pegasi on Earth, so cutting straight through the subdivision would be inadvisable.

Seeing as my choice has been made for me, on I go, picking my way through the bushes and mud pits worn into the path by recreational vehicles. It’s a nice little walk, but the whole time, I feel as though something is... off. When I visited Earth to make my goodbyes, my family was hardly accepting, so why would anypony bring me back here.

Regardless of whether or not my family likes it I’ve still gotta find a way to get word to Equestria. I don’t belong here any more; there’s no place in this world for an Equestrian pony on her own. Not only that, but ponies will notice I’m missing. How could they not notice that I’ve seemingly vanished from the world without a trace?

Oh... Right. I get lost easily. Candy might just figure I’ve wandered off somewhere and gotten lost. Yep! I better get on that then. Now, let’s see... I remember this little bog at the bottom of the hill here. So... that means the brook is probably about a hundred meters ahead.

It’s curious though. Since the power line access is between the subdivision and the highway, you’d think that I would be able to hear all the highway traffic. There’s no cars or eighteen wheelers passing by. There’s not even the sound of motorcyclists hotdogging it up the highway going one-twenty. There’s just... nothing—nothing but the birdsong.

Part of me wishes to simply fly up and take a peek at the highway, but the sensible part of my mind knows better. The idea of just flying might become too appealing to turn down upon seeing the lack of cars. All it takes is a single driver to see me, and then things go south real quickly.

Instead, I spread my wings, and glide relatively effortlessly over the bog. It’s nothing compared to flying hundreds of meters above the ground back in Equestria, but again there is this disconcerting feeling that something is off. Even though I’m just gliding through the air close to the ground, there’s no drag in the air at all, like I’m gliding along a greased surface.

There’s this nagging feeling that these oddities should be bothering me, but I somehow can’t bring myself to care. It’s like there’s this voice whispering ‘blame the unreal and unreasonable on whatever brought you here’ in my ear. What’s worse is that it is so... easy to listen to. Much easier than the one that warns me not to go through with this.

So just like that, I land on the far side of the bog like nothing other my presence in this world is wrong. It’s easy enough to walk this path without getting lost because it’s one I’ve walked dozens of times in the past. I know it well because it’s not Equestria, if that makes any sense.

Finally, walking down the middle of the brook, I reach the backyard of my old home. Aside from a new layer of paint on the pool deck and its enclosure, everything else looks like it’s seen better days. The whole yard is almost overgrown with weeds and scrub brush, like without me there to mow it, they can’t be bothered to care any more. Despite the obviousness of it, nothing strikes me as odd about the overgrowth.

I don’t bother trying to pick my way through the mess of the yard and the expected spread of dog droppings between me and the lower sliding door. Instead, I just leap up into the air and thrust forward using my wings. As all good things do, my luck comes to an end soon after, as I careen straight into the glass pane like a drunken magpie. At least it saves me having to knock.

All at once there is an eruption of barking and snarling on the other side of the door as I flutter a few feet above the cobblestone outside the door. Three cloudy black masses shove the curtain aside and begin baring luminous white fangs, snarling some more. These beasts of red eyes and smoke aren’t anything like the dogs I remember... Just what in Tartarus is going on here?

“What are you doing here?” a hateful, masculine voice calls out from my right. Cautiously, I turn my head, only to be revolted by what I see. Now, on Earth, when you hear a voice, you expect to see a person when you turn to look, right? What you don’t expect to see is something akin to a completely naked fleshy mannequin, with only a smooth patch of skin where its face is, standing on the pool deck. When it speaks, again, there is no movement to indicate a jaw or anything of the such; it’s as though it’s speaking into my very mind with the voice of my father. “You’ve already taken our son from us. What misfortune do you have in store for us this time, you winged little monster?”

Slowly, I back away from the house and away from the thing speaking with my father’s voice. “D-dad?” I fearfully stutter. “W-what’s going on... What happened to your face? The dogs?”

“Magic happened, you fucking little idiot!” another familiar masculine voice shouts from above me, my ears twitching at the word fuck. I look up at it and cringe. A skeletal figure, unburdened by flesh glares down at me from the patio with empty eyes. “After your little ponies took you away from your family, the whole world went to fucking shit! Electronics no longer worked, and people started getting sick—so many mutations! All because you forsook your humanity!” Again, my ears twitch each time the thing swears. Did I really sound like that before part of Lyra overwrote me?

“That’s a lie! I didn’t forsake anything!” I scream back, furthering the distance between us. “I was stuck as a pony and they didn’t want me! What was I supposed to do?”

“You didn’t make any serious effort to turn back, did you!” the living skeleton jibed. “It’s because you wanted to be a pony all along!”

“S-shut up!” I cry. “I did make an effort, but Twilight said—”

“Fuck Twilight!” he shrills. “You ruined me, and now I’m going to ruin you.”

What? “W-who are you?”

Suddenly, I notice the sack in his skeletal hand. At least, I think it’s a sack. It’s kind of fleshy to be just a sack though... “I’m the humanity you threw away, you stupid cunt!” he laughs, pulling the sack over his skull, revealing it to be the face and scalp that were once my own. “C’mere so I can kill you!”

Things happen very quickly as he says this. First, the glass pane of the sliding door shatters, loosing the dogs as I turn to fly away. At the same time, the monster wearing my face points a skeletal digit at me, and a fingerbone flies at me. Unbelievably, the bone projectile shreds through the base of one of my wings, shattering the bone and sending me tumbling to the ground in absolute agony.

The dogs are upon me immediately, biting and tearing. I try to scream out in pain and fear, but one of the dogs latches onto my throat and tears it out. Despite the agony of being torn apart and drowning in my own blood, I can hear that monster laughing in my voice. What is worse, I can hear the clicking of bones as it walks towards me, clapping as one of the dogs rips open my abdomen.

I want to ask him why he is doing this to me, but without vocal cords it’s difficult to say much of anything. Despite this, thing smiles in recognition, as though it can read my very thoughts. “Why?” he says, sneering. “Because I can. Don’t worry, what I’m about to do won’t hurt at all.”

The skeletal monstrosity kneels beside me, and the dogs back off immediately. Baring his teeth, he reaches down and shoves his hand into my chest cavity. I writhe in agony, choking on my own blood, as his hand presses further and further into my chest until I feel the cold lengths of his fingers clench around my heart.

Finally, he leans down next to my ear, cruelly stroking it with his free hand. “I lied.” he whispers. With a heaving yank, he pulls my heart free from my chest.

Earsplitting screaming jars me out of my sleep. It’s absolutely blood-curdling, as though somepony is being murdered. It isn’t until the door swings open and two bleary-eyed ponies burst in, staring worriedly at me through the darkness, that I realize that the screaming is coming from me and I stop. After a few moments of crying, I realize that the ponies are Candy and Forceps.

When I finally calm down enough that I’m only sobbing and sniffling, the good doctor plods over and perches herself on the side of the bed. I can see the genuine concern in her eyes as she conjures a box of tissues. “Silver, dear, are you alright?” she asks, offering a reassuring smile.

Shaking my head, I let out a whimper. “Not really...” I morosely croak. “It was such... a nightmare...”

Candy quickly joins the impromptu gathering on the bed by nestling down on the other side of me. “We can talk about it, if you want...” she says softly, pulling me into a light hug. “We’re here for you, you know.”

It’s true enough; Candy and her mother are always there for me. Even though they aren’t obliged to, they treat me like family. They claim its the pony way, but I honestly can’t say that some other pony family might have taken to me the way they have. I think it’s more because they’re lonely without Candy’s father in the picture. It’s because of this that I just can’t bring myself to burden them with my emotional baggage.

“I know... I know!” I reply, trying to shrug away. “It’s just, I don’t think either of you will understand or like what I say. I’m broken in a way normal ponies can’t understand.”

Forceps and her daughter exchange a look. “We won’t force the issue then.” she says, eying me sadly. “I just wish you’d open up. Bottling it up and hiding from it with sleep aides doesn’t solve anything.” She shakes her head. “Just remember how we met, okay?”

Ouch... That’s a low blow. You don’t just remind a gal that she has a history of mental illness like that. Especially not when the implication is that I’m somehow a threat to myself. Before I can answer, though, it’s Candy’s turn to speak up. “If you won’t talk to us about it, at least promise to talk to somepony about it. I’ve only ever heard somepony scream like that after something terrible.”

Who would I even talk to about that dream? It’s hard enough just figuring out who to trust. I haven’t been able to go making friends with all the prep I’ve been doing, and I don’t want to break Candy and her mother. If I went to a shrink, I would be dividing the amount of time and focus I’d be able to dedicate to my alchemy studies. I don’t even know if the university will accept me if I’m actively seeking mental help. Not only that, but how would it look for Princess Luna if her first sponsorship looks like she’s losing their mind even before. Princess Luna...

At that thought, I spring off the bed with sudden vigor. The two watch me with intense concern as I rifle through my chest of belongings in the still dark room. It doesn’t occur to me to light a candle as I search for my cloak, but at the same time, I don’t really need light to find it. After all, it’s right where I left it: beneath a fair amount of clothes for a human-turned-pony.

Tossing it over my shoulders and clasping it in the front, I turn back to them. “I’m going to go visit the Night Court.” I explain. “I need to make an appearance anyway, and—” I glance at the clock illuminated by the moonlight. “—given how late it is, there probably aren’t any ponies petitioning. Even if there are, I’ll have plenty of time to think my way through this.”

“Silver, please, just talk to somepony.”

I push open my window, and glide down onto the streets.

Like most ponies, I have never been inside the Canterlot Castle before. I often stare at it from a distance, but I never have it in me to visit the Day or Night Courts. It’s kind of silly when I think about my arrangement with Princesses Luna and Celestia. There’s just this intimidating something about the place that prevents me from ponying up and visiting. The nobles are a likely excuse as they are, after all, a judgemental lot, and would not bother to mask their disgust at some lowly commoner filly wasting the princesses’ time. That’s probably the reason why I stick to written correspondence.

Still, this need to be done, and I need to stop being just a cowardly little pony. No matter how long I stare up at the castle spires, I’m not just going to be magically teleported into the castle. All I can do is suck it in, get the job done, and ignore those stuffy blow-hards. It’s time.

Sucking in a shaky breath, I march onto the castle grounds through the main portcullis. Aside from lanterns lining the main walk and the moon above, there isn’t much in terms of light out here. I imagine the main grounds are a lot more impressive during the day. After all, it’s more than just a cobblestone walk that is lined by grass, lanterns and darkness at the moment.

As I march on, my way is barred by gilded doors. A unicorn guard, dark gray in a steel-blue barding, steps forward to intercept me. Locking his golden eyes with my blues, he orders plainly, “State your name, from where you hail, and your purpose for seeking audience with Her Majesty.”

There is no offense taken to the brusqueness of the guard. It is his duty to ensure the safety of the royalty, and it is one worth taking in the most serious light. Looking up into the stallion’s eyes, I remove my hood before speaking. “Silver Script of the Canterlot Residential Zone,” I reply in my clearest voice. The next part is a bit more tricky, because even though I might not take titles seriously, the Royal Guard does. “My purpose is to discuss an arrangement previously made with Her Royal Highness, Princess Luna.”

The unicorn raises an eyebrow at the vagueness of my statement and stares, as though he’s trying to figure out whether or not the diminutive shrouded pony before him really has business with Princess Luna, or is simply some guttersnipe filly hoping to meet the princess. After a long moment, he nods and returns to his post on one side of the door. “Proceed into the entry hall, and wait with the other petitioners,” he directs, igniting his horn and pulling open the large doors. “Word will be sent ahead with your description, name, and purpose so that a guard may present you.”

Nodding politely to the guard, I walk through the newly provided opening. The following entry hall is nothing short of grandiose. It’s a long and cavernous—not to mention lilac!—chamber, well lit by magelight torches and decorated heavily by tapestries and stained glass. The red carpet, upon which stands a file of ponies waiting patiently for an audience with the Princess, stretches along the length of the hall, branching off at every side hallway that bisects the entry hall. I can only guess that the princesses take their audiences in the throne room itself.

The line stretches on about thirty bodies in length, and the ponies in line ahead of me are nothing if not varied. There are unicorns, pegasi and earth ponies of seemingly every shade, but that’s the normal for Equestria. What catches my attention is the minotaur at the head of the line, and the grizzled looking group—gaggle, murder, flock?—of griffon mercenaries lined up behind him. If I didn’t know better than to expect to see every character I’ve seen in the show at some point, I’d swear that the minotaur was Iron Will.

Unfortunately for me, the pony right in front of me looks frighteningly similar to the most obnoxious ‘member’ of the Royal Family, Prince Blueblood. That compass rose in combination with that light amber mane and tail is unmistakable! I just hope he doesn’t take notice of me. From all the rumors I’ve heard, Blueblood comes in three varieties, mood permitting: salacious flirt, nasty drunk, or spoiled child disguised as a stallion.

None of those particularly appeal to me, especially given the smell of alcohol radiating from his clothes. He’s going before the princess to petition something, and he’s smashed out of his gourd; who does he think he is? Why did the guards even let him in? Does being a noble and supposed nephew to Celestia and Luna really give a pony the power to be a drunken lout and not be reprimanded?

I’m not completely sure, but I’m pretty sure he’s also talking to himself. Given that his words are slurred and that he’s mumbling, he’s barely at all understandable. The only thing I can figure is that Blueblood is here because he doesn’t approve of the princesses doing something for the commoners—something that the nobles clearly don’t think we deserve. Can’t have us lowly commoners getting special treatment from the royals! That would even the playing field! It’s all I can do not to let out a derisive snort, and attract the drunken noble’s ire.

Instead, I choose to stare at the nearest tapestry until the line moves on. It’s a really bland piece, but it beats staring at Blueblood’s behind the whole night. Each time the line would move forward, I would move on to the next tapestry or stained glass window—each more boring than the last. No matter how long I wait though, the line doesn’t get any longer. Either the guards or refusing any more entries, or this really is the dead end of the Night Court.

The most interesting thing during the entire wait is the moment when I look away from the tapestries to see the minotaur—from the three quarter profile, she’s clearly female; there’s no hiding breasts on a bipedal mammal—from earlier bound in chains, being passed off to guards by the griffons. So they were bounty hunters. I can’t help but wonder what she had to do in order to get a bounty on her head, paid directly by the Princess. Eh, maybe that’s the closest Equestria Courts can get to extradition.

Once that little bit of entertainment is done with, the boring nature of the hallway quickly begins to wear away at my exhausted mind. I barely even notice the fancy windows and wall hangings. Aside from moving when the line moves forward, I’m barely aware of the passage of time. I’m just so tired.

It would be apt to point out that I’m not even aware that I’m standing in front of the door until the doors swing open and a furious Blueblood is being escorted from the throne room. The stallion is just shouting like a madmare. “Thish ish an outrage!” he slurs, struggling against the telekinetic grips of two unicorn guards. “I will not shtand idle while shome ushelessh commoner livesh off of the taxesh paid by the noblesh, and getsh a univershity education at no charge while my own shishter hash to pay! What ish it to be a Prinshe or Prinshessh if we pay for our tuition like the commonersh?”

Dear Celestia, he’s been mumbling about me this whole time? He was here because of me? I have to say that somehow I did not see this coming. Really though, how couldn’t I? Nobles definitely have access to the resources needed to find out about the spending of the crown, so why wouldn’t they know that the princesses are essentially sponsoring me until I have a sustainable career? Of course they’d only care that the princesses are doing something incredibly generous for a commoner—an immigrant, at that—and not the why.

At least he doesn’t know who I am or what I look like, making it simple enough to just avert my eyes and pretend I’ve seen nothing. Soon enough the guards drag him past, and I’m no longer required to look away. Honestly the whole situation was awkward, and a part of me is glad that he didn’t know what I looked like.

Finally, one of the guards beside the door motions for me to come forward. I acknowledge him with a nod and follow his lead into the throne room. While nowhere near as long as the entry hall, the throne room is every bit as wide, and no less lilac. The stained glass windows in here are much more interesting, depicting many familiar scenes and a few unfamiliar, as well. The banners hanging from the ceiling bear Princess Luna’s colors and cutie mark, offsetting the purple of the walls quite well.

Now, you’d think that the first thing I’d look at upon entering the throne room would be the princess herself, but it’s not really every day you get to just walk into the throne room. All of those details are ones I’ve taken in at just a cursory glance as the guard leads me up the red carpet towards the raised dais of the throne. Flanking either side of the steps up to the throne are two unicorn mares bearing Luna’s night guard motif.

“Presenting Miss Silver Script of Canterlot,” the guard side me announces loudly, almost causing me to flinch as I direct my gaze up at Princess Luna. The princess looks back at me, and smiles as she rises from the throne. “She claims to have prior dealings in business with you, Your Highness, but it is almost time for the dawn. Will you take her audience now, or shall she be asked to return tomorrow night?”

I take a cue from the guard and kneel before her, bowing my head forward. “Please, stand,” Luna directs, and I do so. “It’s alright, Sir Cutlass. I would actually prefer to discuss her business in the sitting room after I lower the moon. There are matters I wish to discuss with her that are of a more personal nature.”

The guard, Cutlass, gives me this appraising look before looking questioningly at the princess, as if to ask if this is wise. He’s probably thinking by my unkempt silver mane that I’m hardly worthy of her presence. It only takes a raised eyebrow and a slight frown from Luna to convince the guard that she knows what she is doing. She’s an all-powerful alicorn after all. It would doubtlessly be simple for her to cleave me in half with but a thought.

Without another word, Sir Cutlass leads me back out of the throne room, through most of the entry hall, and through a side corridor. It kind of bothers me that the princess wishes to see me in private, but I’m doing my best to ignore that spark of paranoia in the back of my mind. After leading me through an absolute maze of passages, the unicorn stallion opens a door with his magic and ushers me in. “Please wait in here and don’t do anything suspicious. I will be directly outside this door.”

I look wordlessly at the guard, ruffling my feathers anxiously. Is it bad that I want to tell him that he has nothing to worry about unless he counts cleaning a pony-shaped stain off the floor as worrisome. If anything, I’m the one who would need protection from a princess. After all, I’m just a wingy pony with a head full of crazy. I don’t even have a horn with which to gouge eyes—or thumbs; I don’t even have thumbs!

There isn’t time to reassure myself that the princess doesn’t wish to harm me as I watch the sun rising through a large window in the sitting room. I’ve been so lost in my introverted old ways that I haven’t even taken a good look at the chamber beyond the fact that there are two large couches and a coffee table between the two. Hay, aside from unconsciously moving toward the window, I haven’t done anything since entering the room other than fretting.

When Luna arrives, it isn’t with the accompaniment of a closing door or even the crack of magic; she’s just there. The only reason I know she’s there is because she speaks to me. “Soren, we need to talk.”

My ears twitch at my original name, and I turn to face her. “Have I done something wrong, Princess?” I ask, quickly turning my eyes to the floor. This is probably about Blueblood or the lack of in-person visits.

“In a sense, yes. Please sit down,” she directs me to one of the couches with a gesturing hoof. Even as I follow her instruction, she conjures a tea set on the table, complete with a steaming kettle of what is unmistakably chamomile. After we’ve both situated ourselves on the couches, she gives me a sympathetic look. “Before we talk about what you are here for, please tell me about your dreams as of late.”

The shock that crosses my face is maybe a bit unnecessary. Of course Princess Luna of all ponies would know about my dreams. Did she see that dream? “I don’t actually dream much, or rather if I do, I don’t remember most of them.” It isn’t a lie, even if it somehow feels like one. “I have troubles getting to sleep, so I’m pretty reliant on sleep aids. The first dream I remember in a long time was tonight.

“I found myself back on Earth, not far from my family’s house. It felt real enough that my first reaction was to go to my parents.” I explain, feeling my voice go hoarse. “When I got there, everything was so wrong. My father had become this indistinct, faceless mannequin-like creature. H-he accused me of taking myself from them. He called me a monster!

“That’s not even the worst part, either.” I’m suddenly very aware that I’m crying again. I raise a hoof to wipe my tears, and then notice a cup of tea floating before me, wrapped in a midnight blue aura. Gingerly accepting the cup, I take a sip in an attempt to calm myself. It doesn’t help, just like turning into a snake; it never helps. “The worst part is that I was confronted by something I’m pretty sure was me. It blamed ponies for bad things happening on Earth. It accused me of forsaking my humanity and then said that I didn’t even try to become human again...

“It loosed the dogs on me. After having my throat torn out, he tore my fucking heart out!” I scream. Suddenly, I feel sick to my stomach, having realized I’ve just sworn for the first time in six months. The first time in months that I swear, and it’s right in front of the princess. I lay my ears flat against the side of my head. “I’m sorry... I shouldn’t have... I-I—”

“Stop, please!” Luna says softly. “It’s o—”

“It isn’t, your highness!” I whimper, staring at the couch cushions. “One dream shouldn’t bother me so much, so why do I feel like everything I do is a betrayal of myself?”

“One dream isn’t enough,” Princess Luna agrees. “But this isn’t just one dream, my dear subject. It’s a recurring nightmare.”

I shake my head emphatically. “This is the first time I... It isn’t is it?” It hits me that sleep aids tend to hamper dream recall. Staring at the her, I ask, “Wait, are you telling me that I’ve been having this nightmare every night since I started with the pills?”

She nods sadly. “Every night that I have peeked into your dreams, yes, but you do not hear my words. It’s as though you don’t want to listen.” Does that mean her voice was the one in my dream telling me not to go home? “You are bothered by your fears that you’ve abandoned who you are, aren’t you?”

I don’t know. Have I really been having that nightmare out of some crazy sense of self betrayal? That can’t be; I’ve never stopped being true to myself! Yeah, I stopped swearing like a sailor, and my thoughts have been a lot less violent, but that is a result of Lyra’s imprint! Isn’t it? But what if it is really a subconscious admission of defeat that I made? I look pleadingly at the princess. “Why am I broken?”

To my surprise, she rises from her couch and moves over to the one I am occupying. It’s unfathomable that she would nestle herself beside me, draping her wing over my back, drawing me into her warmth. “You’re afraid, not of ponies around you or where you came from. It’s yourself that you fear.” she says soothingly. “You worry that who you are is not somepony others can accept. You pretend that your feelings of abandonment and betrayal aren’t real because confronting them would be admitting that you are an outsider.”

I look up at her in wonderment. Is she really... “When I first returned to Equestria as Princess Luna, everypony feared me. I convinced myself that there was no place for fun or being friendly with my subjects, as was proper in the days of old. It was a lonely existence that I thought was required of me. If ponies needed a polar opposite of warm and playful Celestia, I would give them a scary and unpassionate Luna.

“It worked, for a time, but the longer the charade went on, I became lonelier and more jealous of my sister,” Luna explains in a melancholy tone that I can feel more than I can hear. “It was only when I found out about Nightmare Night that I could take it no more. I felt besmirched and mocked by this celebration, not understanding that in spite of its dark nature, ponies took delight in the fright of my legacy.

“Twilight Sparkle and her friends changed all of that.” she continues wistfully. “They showed me that I did not need to be an imposing figure of authority, to be feared by my subjects. More than that, though. They taught me that I was hurting and deceiving myself by disallowing friends and fun. I was betraying the part of me that yearned for the love of others.”

“When you realized this, and took these changes to heart, you became much happier, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did.” She levitates her own cup of tea before her and drains what remains from the porcelain piece. “You will be much happier if you stop deluding yourself that you aren’t bothered by all this. While it might be true that you have ‘gotten over’ everything that has happened, you have not comes to terms with these things. You simply play the happy pony and press on, hiding from yourself.”

Her words bring a sense of relief to me. They are entirely true, I realize. She of all ponies knows most of all what is going on in my mind, because she went through the same thing. It’s time to be true to myself. “You know, if anypony else had said what you just said to me, acting like they knew how I felt, I would have called them a lying sack of s-shit, and threatened to put my horseshoe so far up their arse that they’d be tasting iron filings for weeks.” She gives me a shocked look for a minute, before stifling a giggle. “Maybe you’re right. I may very well have gotten too caught up in being a pony that I stopped being myself at some point.”

“Promise me you’ll be truer to yourself in the future, Silver Script.”

I can’t help but smile at her. “I’ll try, Princess,” I say with a slight giggle. “I can’t guarantee I’ll have much time to dedicate to being me, assuming our deal is still on.”

“Indeed! I imagine you will be quite busy at the university.” She has her own smile spreading across her face. “I would not renege on our agreement after my nephew’s little display tonight. It is high time that he and his obnoxious toadies learn a lesson that royalty is good to its word, and that ponies who aren’t as fortunate as them deserve every bit of privilege that they do.” Trollestia be damned; Trolluna is best troll princess.

I smile up at her appreciatively. “So, how is this going to work?” I ask, and then flush red when I realize that what I just said could be misconstrued. “Do I just go into the admissions office once the off-week is up, sign some paperwork, and present them with some sort of proof our dealing?”

“Something like that...” she says with a mischievous look that I don’t quite trust.

Author's Notes:

I was originally intending to release this and the following interlude chapter simultaneously, but due to some the busy schedule of my editor, I felt it better to give you guys this now, rather than later. That being said, the end of this chapter trails off into something that is a lead-in to something that will be a commonality on the interludes. I won't spoil anything about that though.

As many of you who read When a Pony Calls found out, I particularly enjoy writing dream sequences. There isn't any real song and dance behind it; I just find the abstract direction you can go with dreams to be really enticing... liberating, even. I've particularly wanted to write a 'torn apart' style dream for some time, after having one such nightmare myself.

As always, comments are welcome. Also, if anybody wishes to volunteer to help with editing, feel free to ask.