Manifest stood at the end of what appeared to be an indoor swimming pool in a room that smelled like slightly less potent paint thinner. The liquid looked like water, but Manifest knew that this wasn’t the case. Around him were dozens, maybe even a few hundred other calvary ponies. The ones around him he knew well.

“Can’t ya believe it Manifest!? We’re goin’ home!” Repeater said excitedly, pulling him close with one of his hooves. “Ah can hardly wait! Headin’ back ta Appleoosa, it’s been ages!”

Despite the power of the earth pony’s over the shoulder hug Manifest was still able to nod his head in agreement.
“Yeah, I get to go back to Filly.”

“Aw, come on partner, ya don’t sound near excited enough!” braeburn said, with a smile so large it looked as though it almost hurt. “Wars over! And ya know what they say?”

“No?”

“It’s always sunny in Fillydelphia!”

Manifest cracked a grin. He had forgotten how infectious Repeaters good moods were. “I guess so.”

“Ah get ta meet with all mah friends back in Appleoosa.” Repeater said, now staring off into the distance. “Little Strongheart, Sheriff Silver Star. Ah can talk with all the colts that joined up, and ah’ll mah ranchhooves. Hay, it’ll take a week ta touch base with all a’ them folks.”

He turned over to Manifest. “And how about you? You got a lotta folks ta meet with?”

Manifest hesitated. Compared to Repeater, he didn’t. In fact compared to most ponies he didn’t. His lack of an answer was mercifully cut short by a bellow behind them.

“Well everypony, the wars over. You did your part of the deal, so now its time for me to do mine.” The Artist cut through the crowd of ponies to the very front, and turned to face them. “You were all good killers, and excellent soldiers, but now you are one bath of noxious crap away from washing the war and filth away in this wonderful dye stripping solution and going your separate ways. I’ll head back to my art studio, and you all can go back to doing whatever the hay you did before this misery.” A few ponies cheered, but Manifest didn’t. The Artist continued. “Everypony goes into the remover, submerged for thirty seconds, eyes shut tight. It would be a shame if any of you were beaten by a simple chemical bath after all the Unicornians threw at you.” He faced the liquid. “INTO THE BATH.”

All the ponies trotted in, and as they did the die that they had dispersed into the liquid, turning it to brown. Once they got out of the pool they’d look like themselves again. It had been a year. “SUBMERGE!”

Manifest shut his eyes and lowered his head into the water. He was going to be Static Sparks again in about 30 seconds. He smiled to himself as he floated in the liquid, the same sort of peace that he felt when the dye was being put on washing over him. He would be done with the war, and all of it. He would go back to working the projector at the Fillydelphia Royale 32. He would write reviews for the Fillydelphia Flyer under a pen name.

He wouldn’t have a destiny.

Or perhaps he would.

Any feeling of peace left him, and he started to feel sick as above him a whistle blew. He raised his head above the water and opened his eyes.

He was the only pony in the pool.

He looked around. He was the only pony in the room. There were hundreds mere seconds ago, right before he got in. There was no way that they could all leave without him noticing, he’d have felt the liquid move. They had to still be in there under the now muddy looking liquid, perhaps Repeater had arranged a practical joke. So he took a deep breath, and held it as he waited and counted.

At 43 seconds he started to feel dizzy, so he took a breath. Nothing had happened, nopony burst out of the water gasping for air, and they would have had an additional 30 or so seconds of holding their breath than Manifest did. Slowly Manifest started paddling to the edge of the pool, expecting less and less to run into a submerged comrade. He made sure to take his time, just in case they all burst out of the pool with some sort of a lame ‘gotcha!’ As he clambered out nothing of the sort happened.

Maybe they did all leave in the time he was under, and he didn’t notice. He climbed out of the pool and looked himself over. His aquamarine blue was back, and his flank was still as bare as could be. His ears drooped, but he also let out a sigh of relief. It wasn’t the worst thing that could happen.

He looked up and saw a set of double doors, clearly marked ‘exit.’ Beyond that he guessed would be a few hundred multicolored ponies and Repeater…no, not Repeater after all. Sparks racked his brain. Fiji? Golden Delicious? Braeburn! Oh thank Celestia, he remembered after all. Braeburn would be standing out there in front of everypony and he’d yell a loud ‘GOT YA PARTNER!’ At least, that’s what he hoped would happen. He pushed through the door.

He was in Fillydelphia. He knew the street, only a block or so down from where the theater was. In front of him ponies pulled carts in the streets, and trotted down the sidewalks. Braeburn wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Sparks shook his head. This didn’t make sense. A earth pony wearing a flat cap was leaned up idly against a nearby streetlight. Sparks approached him

“Sir, excuse me, but have you seen anypony leave this building in the last few minutes? I’m looking for some friends, think they might be playing a trick on me.” The earth pony didn’t respond, refusing to even make eye contact. “Sir, SIR!” there was still no acknowledgement of Sparks existence on behalf of the pony directly in front of him. “I’m talking to you!” still nothing. “Sir, I fought in a war for you, so the least you can do is answer my questions.” The pony twitched an ear idly to scare off an errant fly, but that was it. Sparks shook his head. “Well, I guess that I’ll just talk to somepony else then. Sorry to waste your time. ” Sparks said, and he turned away to look for a more helpful pony.

Just across the street there was a pair of mares talking in front of a shop. Sparks looked both ways, and the road seemed clear, so he started trotting across to them. Abruptly he heard rapid hoofbeats on brick to his left, and he saw something moving out of the corner of his eyes. He turned to see a pony hauling a cart down the road quickly, heading right at him and nearly on top of him, and he wasn’t slowing down either. He jumped out of the way and the cart rattled past. “HEY! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!” Sparks yelled down the road at the rapidly diminishing cart. He hurriedly finished crossing the street.

He trotted up to the two mares, who were engrossed in a conversation about gardening. He paused for a second, he didn’t really want to interrupt, and perhaps there was somepony better to talk to. He glanced around quickly, everypony else was trotting to and fro, so only these two would have been here long enough to figure out where Braeburn and the others had gone. He cleared his throat. “Excuse me,” He said quietly. They continued their conversation.

“Excuse me.” He said this at conversation level, but they still hadn’t noticed. “Ma’ams?” he said, waving a hoof to get there attention. It didn’t work. “Hello!?” he said, a bit loudly. They still hadn’t turned to see him. He hesitated for a moment, but finally worked up the courage and took a deep breath. “EXCUSE ME!” he practically yelled. They didn’t look at him, they didn’t stop their conversation, they didn’t even flinch. He trotted directly in between them and looked one in the eye. She still kept talking, putting a hoof to her mouth to suppress a giggle at a joke the other must have told. “Miss, are you ignoring-“she cut him off mid sentence in reply to the mare behind Sparks. Sparks shook his head in disbelief. “What the hay???”

He trotted away quickly, heading towards a unicorn with a monocle heading down the street toward him. “Sir, can you help me, I’m looking for my friends and…” the unicorn didn’t bat an eye under the monocle. Sparks trotted even faster, up the road there was a couple trotting away, and he galloped to get alongside them. “Can you lend a hoof? I’m really beginning to…”

Nothing. He darted across the street to the nearest other pony. “Can you hear me?! Can you see me!?” silence. He galloped out into the middle of the road looked around. There were ponies all around, but none even cast a sideways glance at him.
“ANYPONY! PLEASE!!!”

He felt a shove on his shoulder, and he jolted upright in surprise, spinning around. He was in a passenger car, sitting next to a concerned standard brown earth pony who was shaking his shoulder hard. “What the hay!”

“Take it easy lieutenant, you were having a nightmare. It’s alright, you’re safe now, wars over.”

He looked at his hooves, and they were the same standard earthy brown that the pony next to him and everypony else on the train wore. He was still Manifest Destiny, for now anyway. He faced back to the pony sitting next to him, with the two bars on his flank that meant Corporal. “Thanks.”

“No problem Lieutenant.” The earth pony said. “You must have seen some pretty bad stuff out there for a nightmare like that. Was it a dream about the war?”

Manifest nodded his head shakily, still disoriented from the dream. “Yeah, it was about the war.” His ears drooped and he lowered his head. The fact that it wasn’t worried him more than anything else.

The corporal dropped an ear, and looked concerned. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself short. “You, uh, you wouldn’t want to talk about it, would you?”

“No,” Manifest said, too bluntly. The earth pony nodded.

“I understand. I was only really in combat once, but I think about it all the time.” He paused, and looked out the window, lost in momentary thought. “Anyway, I’ll leave you be lieutenant.” He motioned out the window. “We’re almost at Fillydelphia station anyway.”

Manifest looked to where he pointed, and saw the brick buildings of outer Filly scrolling past the window. Ponies were bustling about on the snapshots that he got of the streets as they moved in and out of view. Briefly, he caught a view of the belltower of city hall. He was almost home. After the dream, it made him feel uneasy.

A burst of static emanated from above him, and he looked forward to where the conductor was speaking into the intercom “Now approaching Fillydelphia Grand Union Terminal. This is the final stop, all passengers are required to disembark the train. On behalf of the Great Eastern Railway, thank you all for your service.”

Manifest looked back out the window, the buildings still slid past, but now he thought that there was something else. Above the chuffing of the locomotive and the chatter of the other soldiers, he thought that he heard music. He popped the locks on the window in front of him, and slid it open. He could hear horns in the distance, like trumpets. He leaned his head out of the train and looked to the locomotive. The train was pulling into the station, entering into a immaculate building of brick and steel, supporting a giant glass ceiling. Manifest didn’t care about the architecture of the grand union terminal, for the sight that awaited him on the platform was far greater.

There was a veritable sea of ponies, so many that getting off of the train seemed like a impossible task. Equestrian banners of the sun and moon were waved around with such intensity that they were not much more than a blur of blue, yellow and gold. And there was a band, playing just loud enough to get their melodies in above the cacophony of cheering. Pegasi flying in the rafters were dropping a steady rain of streamers and confetti, getting everywhere. The ponies on the train all crowded to the platform side, opening every window and leaning out with him to see this beautiful sight. The train lurched to a stop.

“What the hay am I sitting here for?” the corporal asked nopony in particular incredulously, then he bolted up and ran for the exit. He got hardly a full gallop in before almost the rest of the train bolted for the door with him, blocking his path and filling the isle with barely civilized ponies that wanted little more than to get out onto the platform and into a celebration with a world they were long separated from. Manifest stood for a second, then sized the situation. He would never win the shoving match that getting off the train first had devolved into, and he didn’t really want to try. He contented himself with looking out the window as the car emptied around him.

As the cavalry ponies began to empty out into the crowd, Manifest could watch as the flags slowed their waving, then stopped. The band kept playing as the faces in the crowd stopped smiling, and the ponies strained their necks to see the ones getting off the train. They started looking concerned. For their part, the cavalry ponies were pushing through them, the enthusiasm that they had to get off the train being struck down by the crowds fading mood. Manifest couldn’t understand what had changed, and for a moment memories of the fading dream haunted him. The realization occurred to him as brown spilled into the multicolored crowd and dulled it. ‘They can’t recognize us.’

“AMBROSIA!”

All the heads in the crowd turned to the source of the yell, and a cavalry pony shoved his way through the crowd to a pale yellow earth pony with white mane and tail.

“Nectar?!” she asked. The cavalry pony nodded once, then quickly swept her up into hooves and held her tight against him. They held it for a few long seconds, before he swung her around and leaned her back. They looked at each other achingly for a moment, and then he leaned in and kissed her. There was the flash of a camera, but they stayed together for a few seconds more before separating.

The brazen act of love and affection seemed to win over the crowd, and the concern that they showed was swept from their faces. Slowly more and more of the cavalry ponies were finding their loved ones, and the mood was returning to that of their rapturous welcome. Only Manifests emotions were out of sync with the crowd. He felt a pang of jealousy of the couple, not for what they had but for how open they were in showing it. He felt that he loved Amber, but he knew that he couldn’t do what they did. Looking at this scene of unadulterated happiness before him he let out a sigh. The train car had already almost emptied, and Manifest gathered his saddlebags and trotted out.

He snuck through the crowd, trying his best to avoid collisions with ponies and not disturb their reunions or their searches, and having only some success in not blundering into revelers. If there was one thing that he was glad of, it was that he had anticipated the crowds, and had sent a telegram to his family telling them to meet him under the clocktower at the end of the platforms near the stations entryway. While the planning would make his mom and dad easy to find, him picking one of the last cars of the train meant that he had a long and crowded trot to the station front ahead. He stumbled through the sea of ponies, moving as fast as he could manage.

And then he saw through the crowd a glimpse of golden orange, and his movement was instantly arrested. Ponies were blocking his vision of it, but he thought that he saw… he started pushing his way through the crowd with newfound authority, until it opened up again.

And there she was.

And after having only seen her in photographs taped to steel and folded into bags for the last year, she was beautiful to behold.

He stopped, and just looked. Her amber fur that she took her name from, the brights of the sunflower yellow and the burnt orange of her mane and tail, her bark brown eyes. All the colors that he couldn’t see in the black and whites, and were never as vivid in the coloreds. Maybe she had looked this way all along, more likely the years worth of separation enhanced the feeling, but he couldn’t get over it. as she looked over the crowd, he just kept staring at how her mane fell around her horn, how her tail flicked idly, how cute she looked when she pinned her ears. He wanted to trot right up to her, and hold her like that other pony did, and kiss her in front of all of Fillydelphia with all the confidence and gusto and passion and reckless abandon that couple shared.

But he didn’t, he couldn’t. Even though he had known her for years, and even though he had written to her every day, and she had written him back, he felt intimidated by her beauty. The intimidation changed to nervousness. The dream flashed into his mind again, and with it the most dreadful thought. ‘She won’t recognize me.’

The thought had hardly formed in his brain when another quickly superseded it. ‘Give her a chance to.’ He gulped air. The only way to find out was to trot up to her, but he felt painfully nervous. ‘She’s your friend, walk over to her.’ he thought. But she wasn’t just a friend, and he didn’t want to screw things up between them, or have a painful memory. He shook his head. ‘Just do it Sparks!’ he thought to himself, forcefully. He could live in constant doubt or he could force a result, and he knew that knowing would be preferable to ignorance. ‘Okay.’ he thought. Just trot up to a old friend. Nothing to lose… right? He nodded to nopony, and started walking her way. she didn’t seem to see him at first, but as he closed the distance her eyes locked with his. And she smiled. And the insecurity he felt flew from his mind. He trotted towards her, and her smile that was as warm as the morning sun.

That smile changed as he trotted nearer into a mischievous grin. “Aren’t you a little short for a soldier?”

He grinned right back at her. “I’m a little tall for a tanker.”

“I’m looking for somepony. Unicorn, about your height. Blue fur, blue mane, blue eyes. just blue really? See anypony who fits the bill?”

“Everypony coming off this train is the same shade of brown. This pony you’re looking for, is he a friend?”

“Maybe. Maybe a little more.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Lucky guy.”

She looked him over, and cocked her head. “Maybe not.” She shrugged. “Eh, I’m not too picky. You’re a short unicorn with blue eyes. Close enough. Three out of five ain’t bad.” She trotted over to him and stood alongside. “You wanna get out of here?”

“Yeah.”

They walked together, and as they went she nuzzled his side, then turned and whispered into his ear. “Sparks, I’m glad you’re home.”She wrapped a hoof over his back and pulled him in close as they trotted along, guiding him through the crowd as well as giving him quite the comfortable side-hug. It had been nearly a year since he had one of those.

“How’d you know I was going to be here?”

“Would you believe it if I said I had a feeling that track 5 of the Grand Union Terminal was just the place to be today?”

“No.”

“Well then would you believe that you’re parents actually kinda like having me around and told me you were coming when they got the message?”

“Not really.” Sparks jested. “They like having you around?”

"Just for manual labor and because I can get them cheap grain, but yeah, they kinda like me.”

“How’d you get out of work?” Sparks asked. Amber had picked up a part time job of working at the Fillydelphia locomotive works, working on installing the driver’s instrument gauges into the cavalry tanks.

“Sparks, today’s like a national holiday, the whole plant got the day off. The whole city got the day off. Maybe even the whole week as long as ponies keep coming back.”

Sparks smiled. A week off sounded great. “All this for us?” he asked, motioning back toward the band and decorations that adorned the station.

“Oh, this isn’t the half of it.” Amber said as she waved a dismissive hoof over her shoulder at the station. “Just as soon as the word got out that everypony was coming home the whole city got together to figure out how to celebrate. There’s going to be all kinds of things. Tonight there’s a victory fair at the bay boardwalk, there’s a weeklong festival at the central park, and at the end of the week they’re going to have a victory parade that anypony in the military can take part in. Trust me, that’s nothing.” Something about what Amber was saying didn’t sit well with Sparks, but if he showed it she didn’t notice.

“A victory parade?”

“Oh yeah. And I’m pretty sure that ponies are going to ask for you to be on a float. You’re the city's war hero after all.” Something caught her eye and she looked away from Sparks for a second, then she tugged him around in the hug and reared up, pointing at him with her free hoove “I FOUND HIM FOR YOU!”

He followed her eyes to who she was looking at, and saw his parents. Amber released him from her hold, but he didn’t trot for a few seconds. He hadn’t expected this reunion to be emotional, but the weight of time that had separated them finally overcame the joy that he felt upon seeing them again. So much time spent worrying that he would never see them again. So much time being barred from writing to them by censors afraid he would reveal the secret of the tank to spies. Even in the past month, simply time spent wondering how long until the war would cease and they would be reunited. He could see the weight that he felt on them too. In this way at least, they had suffered with him. He started walking toward them, trying to suppress long held in emotions enough to be able to look like the hero that he had been made out to be. But the tears welling up in his mother’s eyes, and his father's reassuring smile told him that he didn’t have too. He trotted the rest of the way, and before he could say a word his mother leapt up and embraced him, clutching him tightly to her. He softly wrapped his hooves around her, and his father joined in the embrace.

Amber made him feel welcome, but his parents made him feel home.

His father broke the silence. “I, uh, almost didn’t recognize you underneath that brown dye. W-why do you still have it on? The wars over?”

Sparks backed away from the embrace. “It isn’t over yet.”

“What? All the papers say that we’ve pushed them back to the border, that their military is smashed for cryin’ out loud? How isn’t it over?”

“They left us a copy of their conditions for surrender. All that’s left is for everypony to get together and negotiate the peace.”

“So you’re still dyed in case they don’t?”

“I guess.”

“Well that’s just ridiculous,” He huffed. “It is going to happen though, right?”

“If it didn’t, I don’t know what they’d fight us with. All the way to the border we were passing cannons and shot up carts of ammunition and weapons. So unless they want to fight with spears, I don’t know what they can do.”

“So it is going to happen then, peace, right?”

“I think so.”

His dad frowned slightly, the answer obviously wasn’t the one that he wanted to hear, but it was an answer. His mother however, smiled assuredly.

“I’m sure it will. So, do you have any plans?”

Sparks cocked his head. “Plans like what do I do now that the war is over, or am I doing anything tonight?”

“Are you doing anything tonight?”

“I was hoping that all of you would have something.”

“Well, there is a fair on the waterfront for the soldiers.”

“Amber told me about it.”

“I think it might be something for you to do.”

“Me to do?”

“I don’t think that we would really be up for it-“

“-Me and your mother don’t care for the games and rides-“

“But don’t let us hold you two back.”

Sparks didn’t really know how to answer. After all this time, they didn’t want to be with him? “What about you two?”

“We’ll have a nice dinner, much better than that carnival crap they sell.”

“Language dear.”

“Sorry.”

“But-“ Sparks was immediately cut off by his father.

“We’ll meet tomorrow at 11:30. The Bluebird café. Have a nice lunch and talk it over with you then. But tonight we think that you deserve to have a good time.” He glanced over Sparks shoulder at who could only be Amber, before his Mother interjected.

“You looked like you were enjoying yourself with her, and she has been such a help to us.”

“So you’re sure that you want to wait ‘til tomorrow to catch up?”

“We know that you’re safe. That’s enough for now.”

Sparks gave her another quick hug, then one to his father. “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow then. Thanks.”

“Have a good time!” his father said as Sparks turned and trotted back toward Amber, who looked only slightly surprised.

“You weren’t kidding.” Sparks said, “They actually do kinda like you.”

“I know, right? It’s still just because I can get them cheap food, but it’s something. So they said that you should take me to the fair?”

“Were you eavesdropping?”

Amber raised a hoof to about barrel height and wiggled it. “Only a little. I connected the dots. You aren’t going with them now, and the only thing of note tonight is the fair so... do you want to go to the fair?”

“Yes.”

“Then we’ll go to the fair,” she said as she started off, Sparks moving to keep up. “but as your dad said, the fair food is crap, so we’ll get something on the way.”

“Anything in mind?”

“I don’t want much, just a snack maybe. What do you think about pastries?”

“Apart from lunch today I’ve had canned foods for about a year. I’ll take anything.”

“Then we’ll make a stop at Mr. Muffins. So what did you have for lunch?”

“Oh. The best food. But that isn’t the half of it. What was the last letter you got from me?”

“Just after the Second Battle of the Galloping Gorge.”

“Really? You’re 10 days behind!”

“Yeah, the mail has been kinda overwhelmed lately. They say it’s because the advance was so fast they couldn’t catch up.”

“So you don’t really know what I’ve been up to?”

“Not until yesterday evening. One of my customers busted in and said that we took back Vanhoover. Then this morning I got The Flyer and you were on the cover. First tank into the city, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“So what was it like?”

“For the first mile down the main strip it was incredible. We were all thinking that we were going to have to fight them for it, but everypony came out to greet us, and said that they had pulled out the night before. And they were all so happy to see us. Half of them at least were crying. And they were waving yellow and blue ribbons and showering us in confetti.”

“So you loved it.”

“Amber, for the first time in the entire war I think that I felt like a hero.” Sparks smiled at the memory. “Of course, halfway through the parade the engine overheated because radiator hose was leaking and the tank almost caught on fire.”

“It broke down at the right time, huh?”

“Yep. They said that we had to finish the parade though, so they got some ropes and tied them to the front and dragged us to the end. 40 ponies who hadn’t had a good meal in months gathered together and dragged this 20 ton tank a half mile. And I couldn’t talk them out of it.”

“So that’s how they thanked you.”

“Yes. I think it means more to me than any of the medals that I got.”

“Seems like it. Where are they?”

Sparks motioned over his shoulder. “Wrapped up in my saddlebags?”

“Why aren’t you wearing them?”

“I think that I want some anonymity right now. Ponies in Canterlot were recognizing me from the papers with all of those medals, and I’m just not really used to all the attention.”

“Canterlot?”

“I stopped there this morning on the way back from Vanhoover to meet The Duke and have lunch.”

“The Duke? Why the hay did you want to meet with him? Everything you’ve ever written about him was about what a giant piece of crap he was!”

“Just wanted to see if he was a decent pony outside of the war.”

“Huh. Is he?”

“Actually, yeah.”

“Well color me surprised,” she said skeptically.“Anyway, ponies in Canterlot recognized you from the papers, so you want peace and quiet?”

“Yeah.”

“So you’re the only pony in history who doesn't like being famous?”

“Courts still out on that. I mean, I kinda like it. Nopony’s ever seen me on the streets before and stopped what they were doing to talk to me. It’s crazy. I mean, it’s only been happening since this morning, but just as soon as I put the dress uniform on everypony started lining up to talk to me.”

“What's not to like about that?”

“Imagine if it took an hour and a half to trot one mile.”

“Oh, oh wow.”

“Yeah. And eventually I just had to start brushing ponies off so I could get to my lunch.”

“The lunch with the best food?”

“The best food.”

“So where does one go in Canterlot for the best food?”

“Canterlot castle.”

“You ate lunch at Canterlot castle?”

“Yes I did.” Sparks said smugly, a goofy grin on his face.

“You can’t just eat lunch at Canterlot Castle right?” Amber asked. She was probing for something to refute an answer that was almost too hard for her to believe.

"No you can’t. You either have to work there or be invited.” He grinned more, watching as she tried processing what he was telling her and her flashes of disbelief that she had at her own conclusions.

“So you were invited?” One nod. “By who?”

“I think you know.”

“P-Princess Celestia?” she said quietly, as if the quieter she spoke the easier it would be to take back a wrong guess. And with the biggest grin that Sparks may have ever had, he nodded one more time.

For her part, Amber was stunned for a second. “You aren’t joking, right? I mean, you never do, but you didn’t pick up a sense of humor in the past year, right?”

“It’ll be in the paper tomorrow.”

“Princess Celestia?” Another nod. “Invited you for lunch?” Again. “And she didn’t just invite you to have a meal, right? Like she was at the table too?”

“Her and the other princesses.”

“Holy Celestia.” Amber said in awe.

“That’s what I said.”

Amber quickly reached a hoof around and yanked Sparks face toward her and leaned in until they were touching muzzles. “Tell me everything!”

“Everything?”

“Yes! What are they like!? What was it like!? What were you thinking!? Spill-spill-spill-spill-spill!”

Sparks backed away from the intense glare that she was giving him. “Well, they’re exactly like you think they would be, but they aren’t.”

“You gotta do better than that.”

“Well, all of them are royal and regal and confident, but they all seemed vulnerable too. They were all kinda worried, except for Princess Twilight I guess.”

“Worried?” Amber said, with almost as much disbelief as she had shown mere moments earlier. “What about?”

“The very first thing that Princess Celestia asked me was how the ponies in Vanhoover and occupied Equestria seemed. Princess Luna asked me how all the cavalry ponies were holding up. And Princess Cadence wanted to know if I knew much about how the Unicornian prisoners were being treated, and if we were taking them.”

“So, what are the answers?”

“I already told you about the occupied ponies. They seem happy, but they’re hungry, and there's a lot that I don’t know.” He stopped, and the spectre of horror ran across his face. “There was something though. I don’t know if this was in the papers or not, but if you haven’t heard it you may be in for a shock.”

Amber shook her head slowly. “I don’t think that I read anything too bad. What is it?”

“To keep control of pegasi they had their feathers plucked.”

Amber was silent. Her mouth moved, but the words that she wanted wouldn’t form until she blurted out an exasperated “W-what? Why?”

“Because Pegasi could fly, and they were too hard to control keep track of. All the pegasi I saw had bare wings, and some of them looked hurt, bad.”

“All of them?”

“Even colts and fillies.”

“Those Unicornain…how can they do that and sleep at night?”

“I don’t know, but they can.”

“Did they do anything else to them?” Amber said, angrily.

“Not that I could tell.”

“They better not have.” She shook her head. “If we don’t change the subject I’m gonna be mad all night. What about Princess Luna and the cavalry?”

“I told her that she would know better than me.” He looked back to his saddlebags wistfully. “You know about the note, right?”

“What note?”

“I never wrote about it?”

“Maybe? I don’t know.”

Sparks stopped in the street and popped open the bags, and without having to look levitated out a battered, ripped, and stained scrap of paper. He showed it to Amber.

“Don’t choose to be someone that you’ll regret being?” she read.

“That’s advice that Princess Luna gave me, about a year ago. I was having a nightmare, and she came and stopped it. I don’t really remember what she said, or even what happened, but I wrote down this. And I’ve had it on me or taped to the turret ever since. She helped me a lot, and I think she's helped a lot of other soldiers too.” Amber looked at the weathered paper with newfound appreciation.

“Did you tell her about this?”

“I asked her if she remembered me. She told me that she didn’t. So I just told her that she had helped me in a time of need, and that I wouldn’t be at the lunch if not for her advice. She liked that. She didn’t say anything, but I could tell. I think that she was glad to hear that we appreciated what she does for us.”

“And Cadence was wondering how they were?”

“Well, first she thanked me for what I did at The First Battle of Canterlot. She told me that if I hadn’t done what I did that we may not have been taking prisoners that day, and may not have even been taking them at all.”

“Nice sentiment.” Amber said gruffly, looking down the street ahead of her. Sparks simply looked her in the eyes until she glanced to meet them. She sighed. “I know it was the right thing to do, and I know it still is, but after hearing what they were doing in Vanhoover I almost don’t want to care about what happens to them.”

“It’s fine, a lot of ponies feel the same way, and Cadence knows that. That’s why she was so interested in knowing if we were treating them well, because it would be so easy not to.”

“It really would.”

“She said that showing love to an enemy may be so much harder than showing love to a friend, but it’s just as important. And you know she’s right.”

“Yeah, I know.” Amber sighed again. “So are we treating them well?”

“As far as I can tell.”

“Good, I guess.” Amber shrugged, but the faintest content smile gave away her feelings on the news. “Anyway, so Princess Twilight wasn’t really worried like the others?”

“She was actually kinda excited,” Sparks said. “First she asked me if I had made good friends in the military.”

Amber smiled. “Sounds like she's the first one that you talked to that actually cares about you.”

“Well, when you put it that way, yeah.”

“So you obviously said yes.”

“Not quite. I told her that I had made many friends in the service, but then I took it back.”

“Took it back? I thought that you really liked all those ponies you’d write about.”

“I do, it’s just… a friend is someone that you go to the movies with, or have a game night with, or talk to when things are going bad. You never have to trust your life to a friend, and they never have to trust you with theirs. You see a friend every day if you can, or weekly or even monthly, but you never have to live with them all day every day like we did. Friendship is great, but I feel like what I had with my old squad and my crew was deeper than that. The griffons have a word for it. They call it camaraderie.”

Sparks glanced over just in time for Amber's dropped ears to perk back up. “So, uh, what did she say to that?”

“Nothing. Her eyes just got really wide and she wrote something on a napkin. And then she really wanted to talk about tanks.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. She wanted to talk about statistics that she had pulled and readiness rates and recommendation notices and… honestly, she’s kinda a nerd.”

“Really? I thought that she's one of equestria's greatest protectors? She's defeated and reformed so many threats.”

“And she’s kinda a nerd.”

“Huh. I wouldn’t have thought. We’re here, by the way.”

Sparks looked up, and indeed, they were standing under the unassuming entryway into Mr. Muffins Bakery. Amber opened the door, and he followed her inside.

“Amber! How’s the day off treating you!?” Mr. Muffin called jovially from the counter.

“Pretty good. Look who I found at the train station.”

“My goodness. Do my eyes deceive me, or is that really Soil Sifter with you?”

Sparks cocked his head. “uh, I guess they deceive you.”

“Oh my! Static Sparks! I’m so sorry, I thought that you were some other customer of mine that Amber here likes to have muffins with.” Amber rolled her eyes. "So, what can I get you?”

“One banana nut muffin, a espresso, and…” Amber looked expectantly at Sparks

“One blueberry.”

“One blueberry? Eating light then, huh Sparky?”

“One Blueberry muffin.”

“Ah, big difference. Can I twist your hoof for a drink?”

“No.”

“You sure? They’re all pretty taste-eeeee.”

“Yes.”

“Great! What’ll you have!?”

“No-“

“No? But you just said yes?!”

“Yes as in i’m sure.”

“So if you’re sure then what do you want?”

“I’m sure I don’t want a drink.”

“But you just said yes.”

“Celestias sake, I don’t want a drink, and if you ask me again we’ll go somewhere else!”

“Alright-alright-alright, message received Sparky, no need to get all charged up about it. Two muffins and a expresso. 10 bits.” Both Sparks and Amber immediately reached for their saddlebags.

“I got it.” Amber said.

“Amber, I haven’t had to buy anything since I joined the cavalry, and I got paid pretty well. Let me take this.”

Amber smiled. “Thanks.”

Sparks retrieved the 10 bits, but Mr. Muffin raised a hoof. “Gimme a second Sparky, I just had a thought.” He trotted away from the counter and into the backroom.

“I forgot what it’s like dealing with Banana Nut.” Sparks whispered.

“At least you get to, I have to deal with him every morning.”

“Have to? Don’t you mean get to?” Banana Nut called from the backroom. “Besides, if you really didn’t want to ‘deal with me’ then I think you would find a different bakery to patronize.”

“I put up with your shenanigans for the food.”

“Well, at least you complimented the food.” Banana said as he trotted back behind the counter, his horn aglow with magic but whatever he was impacting out of view. “Speaking of shenanigans,” he said as floating through the doorway came what looked slightly like an old record player. A pair of horns protruded from the top, both condensing down into single needles that were suspended over a cylinder that was placed on its side, attached to a small motor. Sparks just cocked his head.

“What the hay is this?”

“This, Sparky, is a business proposition. If you say into this horn that this is your favorite bakery in Fillydelphia, then you will get a permanent discount from all of Mr. Muffin's Bakery locations.”

“Isn’t this the only one? Amber ribbed.

“With a ringing endorsement, there may be more.” Banana Nut answered, turning to Sparks. “So what say you?”

“How does this thing work?” Sparks asked.

“Oh, simple.” Banana Nut said with a wave of a hoof. He flicked a switch with his magic, and the cylinder started to turn, then he lowered the first horn down until the needle touched the surface. “you just speak into this horn and this turns your voice into grooves on this cylinder” he said into the horn, then flicked the thing off. He blew on the cylinder and some loose wax flew off, then he raised the first horns needle off and lowered the second one on. “and this plays back what the first one got, see?” he flicked the switch and through the horn his voice emanated.”You just speak into this horn and this turns your voice-“ he lifted the second horn up, levitated the cylinder, and chucked it over his shoulder where it shattered on the ground. “So that’s how it works. Interested?”

Sparks and Amber said nothing, looking at the cylinder fragments scattered throughout the floor. Banana nut looked down at the pieces and shrugged. “eh, it was probably for the best, nopony would want to hear a recording of me saying how to do a recording.” He looked back at Sparks. “They would want to hear you say how much you like this bakery though. So, interested?”

“A permanent discount?”

“Yessssss.”

“Okay.”

“Great!” Banana Nut said, flying another wax cylinder from the backroom and setting it up. “okay, annnnnnnnd… now.”

The switch flicked, the cylinder spun, and Sparks spoke into the horn. “I’m Static Sparks, and this is my favorite Bakery in Fillydelphia!”

The switch flicked again, and Banana Nut undid this cylinder, and instead of even testing it out threw it over his shoulder, where it shattered like the last.

“Uh, why did you want me to do this for you if you were just going to break it?”

“Oh, it was just a bad take,” Banana nut said as he fetched another cylinder.

“What was wrong with it?”

“Well, I’m not going to get much publicity if you recommend this place, but if the most decorated soldier of the war were to… eh, right?!”

Sparks smiled softly, and nodded his head once. “Ah, I understand.”

“Great!” Banana Nut said, as he replaced the cylinder. And as he did so he didn’t see how Sparks stared past him at the wall, lost in thought, or how that soft smile faded from his face, or how his ears fought to stay forward and alert against dropping. Amber leaned in towards him.

“Sparks?”

“I’m fine.” He said, still staring at the wall. and while Banana Nut may have been oblivious, Amber noticed how he immediately answered that as opposed to looking over at her, or asking what was up. Jumping to that answer showed that he wasn’t what he claimed.

As for Sparks, he felt a pang of sadness, a feeling of déjà vu from a barely remembered nightmare. Perhaps the reality wasn’t as bad as he may have feared, but he was still right. He hardly heard Banana Nut count down, or start the recording, but he still paid enough attention to speak into the horn “I’m Manifest Destiny, and this is my favorite bakery in Fillydelphia.”