Mort Takes a Holiday

by AnonymousMaterials

Rating: teen
Tags: Princess Celestia, Slice of Life, Main 6, Princess Luna, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy
Length: 164167

The Pale Pony (of Death) faces his greatest challenge yet: free time.

Mort, also known as the Pale Pony (of Death), has been tasked to take time off from his rigorous duties of reaping souls. Seeking guidance, he is directed towards the town of Ponyville, to learn about the magic of friendship from Twilight Sparkle and her friends. All he needs to do is keep his true nature a secret. That shouldn't be too difficult...right?

Special thanks to Specter-Von-Baren and Pyrite Foolsgold for their help in proofreading and editing this story, as I really needed it. Additional thanks to Pilate, Chuckle5, Unimpressive Vagaries and Admiral Biscuit as well! Couldn't have done it without all their help!

Credit for the title card goes to Siansaar, AKA Carnifex.

For another excellent take on Mort, check out Sip's version!

Published 2012-06-06 06:34:03 UTC
Last updated 2014-04-12 05:37:51 UTC

"Holi...day...?"

It was, as it often was, a quiet night in the castle. Gentle moonlight filtered in through the tall windows that adorned Celestia's chamber, a display she knew her sister would be proud of. Laying comfortably atop a bed adorned with fluffed pillows and silken sheets, Celestia's eyes meticulously scanned another document under candlelight, feeling tired, yet accomplished.

It had been one of her more hectic days, when nearly everything that needed to be done fell upon her all at once. She had spent most of her day helping unveil a new library that would not just be one of the largest constructed, but also serve as a intellectual hub for all the bordering nations. Even before the official opening, rare and important documents had been pouring in from every corner of the world. There were texts written by ancient historians, early state constitutions, autobiographies by the most renown creatures, blueprints for ancient structures, newspapers almost as old as paper itself, “lost” poems and screenplays, and also (though not without some controversy) a significant number of “banned” literature. History, she knew, was all too easy to lose; having such a library would make it easier to look after.

Of course, it wasn't enough to be there just for the opening. She also needed to speak with the academics and sit through an almost unbearable amount of praise heaped upon her. Attempts to remind them of the hundred or so other creatures that made it all possible went largely unnoticed, even by the same ponies who she thought had been integral in constructing it.

All of that in one day would be more than enough for her to do, but by the time she had gotten home, ready to set the sun, one of the castle staff had rushed to her and explained, while apologizing the entire time, that there had been a mix up with the mail, and a number of letters and documents meant for her had been lost for several days.

She wasn't angry, of course. Mistakes happened, after all, and she ended up spending a few minutes assuring the messenger that there wasn't going to be any punishment, much less divine wrath. Still, after seeing the pile of letters and packages that could have easily hidden her, she wondered if she should have also emphasized the importance of avoiding it in the future.

To complicate matters even more, Luna wasn't around to help sort through it. Ever since her last visit to Ponyville, the younger sister had taken steps to learn more about modern customs and culture. To Celestia's surprise, Luna took an avid interest in classic and modern rock music, and liked to “sneak away” to attend a concert or two. Celestia knew, of course, and sometimes she wanted to tell Luna that it was okay to visit them, but it was cute watching her sister formulate all manner of excuses to leave the castle. It was like living with a teenager. One who had yet to kick ye-olde habits.

Most of the documents ended up being letters simply reminding her of events both current and forthcoming. The rest ended up being gifts of some sort from the diplomats she knew, the occasional request to build a road here or a school there, and various mayors asking for advice on issues plaguing their towns.

Then there were the letters from various leaders, asking if she was still planning on visiting them. Though she had intended to see them sooner, various matters in her own kingdom kept forcing her to push the visitations back. Some careful planning by a secretary had lead to a schedule that would allow her to meet all of them within the week, though it would once again mean being away from Canterlot. As much as she wanted some time to rest up at home, she just couldn't delay their meetings any more.

Not that she would regret visiting them, of course. She was excited to see how the pony and buffalo relations were going in Appleloosa, and was interested in the all-cow caravan and the success it was having in its trade. There was also the visit to Aquila to see the griffon president Leon. It'd been a year since they last talked, and she was eager to see how he was handling everything. She imagined she would be hearing a lot of stories about being on the receiving end of Steel Tongue's lectures. The adviser was getting on in years, but his mind was probably as sharp as ever. He was always a joy to speak with as well, having more spark than some griffons half his age.

She levitated her now-worn quill and a blank piece of parchment towards her, writing a short response to each of them, assuring them all that she would be there as promised. She signed her name, rolled the parchments up, wrapped her seals around them, and with a flash of her horn, the scrolls vanished in a puff of flame, soon to appear in their respective offices.

She took a moment to stand, stretching her limbs and wings. A rather unladylike yawn struck her, and when it passed she realized just how exhausted she was. Her eyelids felt as heavy as lead, and she fought to keep her head up. She scanned what was left, and became somewhat dismayed to see that there was still a small pile of scrolls and letters she had yet to open. Her only comfort was that she was finally done with the high-priority documents, leaving only some internal reports that could easily wait until morning.

She was just beginning to lay her head down when her eyes then caught an unopened scroll, lying right next to one of her pillows. With a small start, she realized it was Twilight Sparkle's latest friendship report. It had dropped in on her just as she was beginning to read proposed changes to building regulations. She had promised herself to read it next, but soon got distracted when she realized the new regulations being proposed all had to do with making the buildings larger to accommodate her “blessed proportions.” She then spent ten minutes trying to word a response that had no mention of her size, another ten minutes spent sanitizing her wording, and finished the half-hour feeling embarrassed, indignant, and more than a little anxious about her diet. By the time she had moved on from all of that, the report had slipped her mind completely.

Forcing her eyes to stay opened, she opened the scroll to take in its contents:

Dear Princess Celestia,

Today I learned that, though first impressions are important, they are often not the sole indicator of who a pony is. No pony is perfect, and at times we may say something or act in ways that don't represent us at all.

Derpy Hooves, our resident mailmare, was like that. She can be clumsy, and doesn't always think something through before saying it. Because of that, though, she became the butt of jokes and derision among the townsfolk. When they saw her, they only saw a clutz. A lot of them refused to see her for anything else.

Underneath all of that, though, was a loving pony who only wanted to do her best and be accepted by her peers. She remained optimistic through everything thrown at her, all in the hopes that someday she would earn their respect and friendship.

I will admit it was not easy for me, either, but the more time I spent with her, the more I realized what a wonderful pony she really was, and the happier I am to call her my friend. We may not always understand somepony right off the bat, but that's all the more reason to get to know them better.

You may just find somepony very special.

Your Faithful Student,

Twilight Sparkle

Celestia smiled serenely. Another good report, another good friend. Another lovely way to end the evening. She wrapped the scroll up, floating it into a library cabinet, where dozens of others just like it waited. She then blew out her candle and levitated it onto her dresser, alongside her crown. Satisfied, she snuggled under he covers, wiggling into a comfortable position.

She stared up at her canopy, which bore the classical image of Luna and herself chasing each others tails, with the celestial bodies they governed hovering near their heads. She smiled fondly; it was so nice to look at that again without feeling so awful. She closed her eyes, feeling the tug of sleep...

She was pulled away from it by the very unusual feeling that she was being watched. Her ears twitched instinctively, searching for anything that would make a peep. She fluttered her eyes, feeling puzzled at first. As the seconds passed, though, she felt her hair begin to stand on end, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees.

Celestia didn't dare move. What had been a mere hunch was growing into near-certainty. At the back of her mind she recited several spells, because no matter how unlikely, the occasional creature did manage to sneak its way in, slipping through protective wards and the armored guards that patrolled the castle. She rolled on her side, towards the balcony, bracing herself to use a spell...

Nothing. The room looked the same as she had left it moments ago. All that was different was that the moon's soft glow looked just a little brighter without the candle. Celestia sighed softly, now feeling silly about the whole thing. A little paranoia came with being a leader (especially one who had been confronted by several, powerful enemies in the past 18 months alone), but what she had felt was much stronger than usual, and nearly brought her to the point of unleashing a half-dozen spells that would've paralyzed a manticore. It was almost embarrassing.

Watching the moon, Celestia felt a small smile cross her face. Perhaps it was time to let Luna know that her “secret” excursions weren't all that secret. Thinking of the faces Luna would make at the revelation, Celestia began to shut her eyes, and rolled to the opposite side of her bed.

What awaited her on the other side was a pony skull, where from its empty sockets burned beady, red eyes. A razor sharp horn jutted from its forehead through a hood that was blacker than midnight. Celestia felt her blood run cold.

“Are you awake?” it whispered.

Celestia shrieked in fright, causing the skull to scream in return. Each shriek was matched by a scream as the two retreated from each other. The cloaked skeleton jumped onto its hindlegs, waved its forelegs desperately to keep his balance, than fell backwards into a pedestal behind it, causing the flower pot on top to tip over and crash on top of it. Celestia herself slipped off the edge of her bed, dragging the bed sheets with her.

Celestia shot to her hooves, tangled in her comforter, and reflexively prepared a stun spell that cast a gold light upon the room. From the other side of her bed, she saw the skeletal head rise, looking ominous...for all of two seconds, until she saw the posies that sprouted from the soil on top of its head.

Celestia felt the adrenaline drain at the sight. Wide awake, she now recognized what, or rather who, she was looking at. “Mort?”

The pony shade looked up at the flowers, then rotated his eyes to take in the rest of the room. He focused the red dots back on her, looking remarkably sheepish for somepony without a face. “Uh...good evening?”

The princess breathed a quiet, if frustrated, sigh of relief, her horn dimming as the spell dissipated. “For goodness sake, Mort! What have I told you about knocking?”

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't want to wake you up!” He scrambled around the bed towards her, the posies still swaying on top of his head. “I mean, you looked like you were sleeping, but I didn't know for sure, and I didn't want to wake you up if you were asleep, but I didn't want to leave if you weren't asleep, so I thought I could just get a little peek, but I still wasn't sure, then—”

Celestia brought a hoof to Mort's snout, silencing his ramblings. Though his expressions were understandably limited, his posture and the way he shaped his eyes all told her the shade was feeling rather guilty.

She gave him a reassuring smile, and removed her hoof. “It's okay, Mort. You're okay. You just gave me a little fright, that's all.”

The guilty look was replaced by one of relief, and the pony shade hummed contently. Celestia rolled her eyes good-naturedly. For as old as he was, he was still foal-like in so many ways.

“Now,” she started, as she freed herself from the bed sheets, “what brings you here so late? Is there a lull in your schedule?” While she would have preferred to have seen him during the day, she couldn't find it in herself to reproach him for waking her up for it tonight. The two had seen less and less of each other over the years, and she mused sadly that Mort would probably need to leave in a few minutes anyway. Then it would probably be another few months before they could say more than five words to each other. Maybe longer.

In response to her question, Mort shook his head. “Oh, no. Well, kinda, but there's a bit more going on than that.”

“How so?” she asked.

“Well, you see—”

“PRINCESS CELESTIA!”

The princess cringed, and whipped her around just in time to see her bedroom doors burst open. It was soon followed by a parade of hooves as half-a-dozen pegasi, clad in gold-plated armor, rushed into the room, looking ready to pummel something. And none more-so than the one leading them, a captain named Storm Rider, with hair and wings as gray as stone, and supposedly just as hard.

“Captain,” she said, managing to keep her voice even, “what ever brings you here?”

“My deepest and most sincere apologies, my princess, but we heard a commotion coming from your room! Are you okay?” He marched into the room, scrutinizing every corner of the chamber, his forelegs flexing in preparation. His eyes drifted just to the left of her, and narrowed in suspicion. “What is that doing there?”

Hiding her nervousness behind a collected face, she glanced to her left. Too her relief, she only saw a clump of soil and some flowers laying on the floor. “Oh, well...it's embarrassing, really. I thought I saw somepony in the room and just...well, grabbed the first thing I could see.” She threw in a giggle for good measure, hoping to calm the captain.

“Ah, so you improvised a weapon! Well done, Princess.” The soldier nodded his approval, buying the story completely. Celestia was glad she wouldn't have to explain why she didn't use her magic instead, or why the soil and flower were on this side, but not the actual pot. “I trust you got the scoundrel?”

“Oh, no. Like I said, I only thought I saw somepony. I was half-asleep at the time. It was only a shade—shadow, captain. Nothing more.”

He shook his head. “On the contrary, Princess, I believe that was no mere trick of the light. I know I heard something.”

“That may have been me,” she offered. “I was quite startled, I'm embarrassed to say...”

“Ah, but you're voice is like a melodious symphony that fills hearts and souls with warmth and joy,” he said with great reverence, his chest swelling. Then in an instant that image was replaced by a dark scowl. “Much unlike what we heard. That ghastly wail was boorish, ignoble, and just plain scrawny! Obviously it belonged to a common thug!”

He walked around her, checking under her bed, behind her dresser, even within its drawers. Around the room the other pegasi were performing their own searches, going as far as to look behind paintings and within flower vases. Closets were ransacked and drawers were pulled out and emptied unceremoniously on the floor.

Celestia finally found her voice. “Captain, is this really necessary?” she asked, trying to keep her temper from rising.

“We can't take any chances, princess. There's an intruder in our midst.” Storm Rider inhaled deeply. “Oh yes, I can smell him. I can taste him. I can feel him in my primaries. I won't leave until I have the scum in chains!”

Were it any other time, Celestia would have actually appreciated that a pony wasn't turning into a nerve-wrecked puddle in her presence, and was actually willing to voice their opposing convictions on a matter. Now was not one of those times. And even if it were, she drew the line at having her bedroom torn apart.

“Captain,” she said cordially, “I would usually never doubt your word on this sort of matter, but you have absolutely nothing to be afraid of. Please, return to your post. I've had quite a long day, and would like to rest.”

Storm Rider looked at Celestia, and she was dismayed to see the firm resolve in his eyes. “My sincerest apologies, Princess, but with all due respect, we simply can't leave now! Not until your safety is guaranteed!”

Princess Celestia rolled her eyes when Storm Rider wasn't looking, and said, “Captain, I think I would know if anypony or anything were in my own bedroom.”

“Oh yes, on the surface! But there a number of devious ways one could hide themselves in plain sight,” he said, marching towards a mirror. “For instance, with magic they could disguise themselves as a mere reflection, waiting for you to turn your back. The key is to psyche them out!” The captain glared at his own reflection, twisting and turning his head, making all sorts of faces. He got on his hind legs, jumping from hoof to hoof as he jabbed at the mirror in front of him.

This went on for a full minute before Celestia had had enough. “Or it could just be a mirror,” she pointed out flatly.

Storm Rider stopped his antics, and dropped down on all four legs. He cleared his throat, making an effort not to look embarrassed. “Er, yes, that is also a distinct possibility.” He turned and walked away from the mirror, stopping once suddenly to look behind him, and was disappointed to see his actions reflected perfectly.

Celestia tapped her hoof impatiently, watching as the guards continued to comb through her bedroom. They could turn the whole place upside down and never find an inkling of the “intruder.” She couldn't afford to have them stick around, either. If Mort's reasons for seeing her were important, she was quickly running out of time...if she hadn't already.

“Storm Rider,” she said, choosing to let a hint of agitation enter her voice, “I must insist that you take your guard and return to your normal routes. There is nothing here.”

“We'll post a guard here, here, here, and here,” he said, pointing to each corner of the room. “We'll double the patrols outside and inside, make sure we have an eye on you at all times, and...a-and...”

What he said next was lost in incomprehensible stutters. Celestia watched with some alarm as the pegasus suddenly paled right in front of her, shivering hard enough to rattle the armor he wore. A moment later, it was followed by the moan of another guard, then another, and soon everypony save Celestia was shivering as if overcome by a deep chill. She had a strong inkling about what was causing it.

“Are you okay, captain?” she asked, genuinely concerned.

“Y-y-yes,” he replied. The last of his shivers faded, but the pegasus still looked terribly disturbed. “J-just a little short of b-breath. Give me a moment to...” The captain's breathing was becoming labored, and his eyes were frantically looking around the room, as if a predator was readying itself to lunge at him. The reality may have frightened him more.

“Captain,” she said gently, resting a wing across his shoulder, “you have all had a long day. I think it would be best if you just returned to your posts.”

“B-but...b-but...” The captain looked conflicted. His duty was keeping him there, but she imagined his base instincts were screaming at him to go somewhere—anywhere—else.

“I'll be okay, you'll see,” she told him reassuringly. “I'll even give you and the others a small bonus for your attentiveness tonight. How's that sound?”

Storm Rider shook his head stiffly. “Y-you don't have to...”

“I insist.” She lead him towards the door, and like ducklings, the rest of the guard followed. Their eyes darted around the room much like his had. The sight made her feel guilty, and she hoped they'd recover once they got away from the room. “It brings me no small comfort, knowing that I have nothing to worry about while you're around.”

The compliment seemed to give some semblance of peace to Storm Rider, and he smiled appreciatively at her. “All in a day's work,” he said, saluting her. “Pleasant dreams, my princess.”

When the last guard filed out the door, Celestia shut the doors gently. She waited close by, craning her ears to hear beyond the door. When the last pair of hooves had faded from her hearing, she released a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

“You can come out now, Mort.” She waited patiently, expecting him to bleed into existence beside her. Seconds passed, but she was still alone in the room. She was beginning to worry that the shade had to run off when she felt something large and solid move through her mane.

Clenching her mouth shut this time, she glanced up to see Mort peeking out from within her mane. He looked down at her, grinning as he always did, though this time with an aura of embarrassment. “Sorry, they were moving around so much, this seemed to be the only place they wouldn't search.” He glided out of her aurora hair, landing soundlessly on the ground, and shook some long pink and green strands from his cloak. “But could you believe that guy?!” he said indignantly. “I do not sound boorish. And I'm not a thug!”

“I know you aren't,” she told him. “But if you were with me the entire time, how did you scare them away?”

Mort looked away from her, scratching at the floor. “W-well, uh, that wasn't actually me, y-you see...”

Now Celestia was very puzzled. “Excuse me?”

“It was my doing.”

Celestia released a startled gasp, and she spun around to see the source. A familiar, ashen alicorn stood near the balcony doors, her yellow eyes staring at Celestia from behind a white fringe. “Good evening, Celestia,” Thanasia said curtly, bowing her head. “My apologies for the sudden intrusion.”

It took a moment for Celestia to get over the shock of what she was seeing. She could count on her hooves the number of times she had seen the slightly taller alicorn in the past century. Those times, though, always came with some appointed time, delivered to her by Mort. It wasn't like her to appear out of the blue. And with Mort in tow.

Collecting herself, Celestia respectively bowed back. “Good evening to you as well, Thanasia,” she said, her voice welcoming. “A pleasure meeting you again after so long, but was it really necessary to spook my guards?”

“I tried to tell her,” Mort piped up. “But she says we couldn't—”

“The ancient alicorns are talking, my shade.” Mort hushed up immediately, and sat down as if he had been scolded. Thanasia turned her attention back to Celestia, her face expressionless. “I did not want to 'spook' them, but time is a luxury we rarely have, and we have some important matters to discuss.”

“Concerning Mort, I take it?” It was really the only reason she even saw the other alicorn. Their talks would always consist of some new change in the shade, whether in his appearance, habits or manners. All of it virtually harmless, but never-less Thanasia would observe each one with a large degree of suspicion, as if believing Celestia were somehow corrupting him. It was both funny and sad how much it was like a parent-teacher conference each time they met.

Thanasia nodded at her, and motioned her head towards the balcony. “Let's speak of this outside.”

Thanasia stood where she was, waiting. Celestia walked towards her, her magic grasping at the doors handles. She gently swung them open, letting in a chilly breeze that elicited a shiver and giggle in the sun princess. Mort shuffled up from behind, only to be stopped by a hoof from Thanasia. Mort looked up at her in puzzlement.

“The princess and I must speak in private,” his creator told him sternly. “Wait in this room until we are finished.”

The pony shade looked to Celestia, who could only shake her head apologetically. Often the talks they had really were best kept private. With a morose sigh, Mort quietly walked back to the center of the room, where he sat down dejectedly. He rested his head on one hoof, tracing circular motions with the other.

Celestia couldn't help but feel sorry for the lone shade, but knew how to cheer him up. “I have some new friendship reports from Twilight, Mort. Why don't you read those while you're waiting?”

He perked up immediately at the idea. He nodded eagerly at her, and in one motion had moved towards her book shelf. The guards had only gotten around to emptying the shelves themselves, but never getting to the cabinet below. He opened the doors, revealing dozens of scrolls that had been sent to Celestia since Twilight's “assignment.” He counted up from the bottom, then levitated off the top stack of scrolls. He laid them down and opened one up, his eyes eagerly scanning over the paper.

Celestia smiled, glad to see the shade in better spirits. The ashen alicorn beside her said nothing, regarding the scene with a cool intensity. She once again motioned for Celestia to follow, and walked onto the balcony, her thick mane and tail barely affected by the breeze. Celestia shot one last look at Mort, then followed behind her monochrome acquaintance.

Waiting outside was a cloudless sky, that showed Luna's work in all its splendor. Out here she could see the moonlight reflecting off the waterfall that flowed next to Canterlot, pooling towards a pond that looked silvery in the darkness. Celestia breathed in the cool air, feeling a renewal of vigor in her body.

If Thanasia noticed any of it, she certainly didn't show it. She stood at the baluster, looking out at nothing, with a form and rigidity that would have made her guards jealous. If anypony were watching them, they would have sworn that the princesses had sculpted themselves a stone sentry.

It wasn't long before her eyes fell on Thanasia's cutie mark: a green flame that burned strongly atop a large, white candle. Mort had once told her that the candle was not a static image, as its size changed every time he saw it, though typically it got larger a little bit at a time. The one exception had been when the candle was barely taller than the pedestal it sat on, and its flame barely more than a spark.

That was a thousand years ago. After learning that, Celestia had made it a point to look at it any chance she got. Her memory was not as good as Mort's, but she was quite certain the candle looked as healthy as ever.

She walked over to Thanasia, stopping a few feet beside her. “Lovely night, isn't it?” she started conversationally. “Luna has been doing a wonderful job since she's been back, don't you think?”

“I'm sure,” Thanasia intoned dully. “Celestia, I did not come here for idle chit-chat, so I would appreciate it if we got down to business.”

Celestia's smile faltered, but only for a moment. She had expected that, but it had been worth a shot. “Of course. You said it concerned Mort? Is there something wrong?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Thanasia replied. “He's getting sloppy. Tonight he had asked me to prophesies the movements of a small crowd, when he could have easily flown above them. What's more, he became so distracted by some of the ponies around him, he almost forgot about the pony he was really there for. It's akin to you forgetting to raise the sun.”

Celestia shrugged. This was going to be a short visit if that was the whole reason she was here. “Well, we all have our off days.”

“I wouldn't even be concerned if this only happened occasionally,” Thanasia explained. “However, tonight was just the latest incident. He's been having one 'off' day after another for quite some time now, and it only seems to be getting worse. Not only is he not thinking things through, he doesn't seem to be thinking period.”

Celestia frowned. “Don't you believe that's a little harsh?”

Thanasia shrugged, unmoved. “It's the truth. It is what it is.”

Celestia reminded herself that Thanasia was not malicious, or even mean-spirited. She just saw the world in black and white. Yes or no. It was or it wasn't. “Calls it as (she) sees it.” Tact was probably as alien a term as the act of smiling. “You've talked to him about this, then?”

Thanasia hesitated for a moment. “I confronted him tonight about it. He is...not happy. As in he does not feel happy.”

She recalled her last few meetings with the pony shade, and how he always seemed to be in good spirits every time he left. Even Luna had said the same thing every time he was able to see her. What could have changed that? “Did he tell you why?”

Thanasia's tone never rose or fell. She spoke as if reading from a sterile report. “Part of it has to do with the nature of his duties. The number of souls he reaps increases with each passing year, and often the difference in time and distance means he can not stop at all. He believes he's reaching a point where he'll only have time to reap the pony before moving on to the next.” Thanasia paused. “Obviously, that can't be helped.”

“No, I suppose not,” Celestia said sadly. Her ponies were expanding far beyond the valley they had found so many centuries ago. Without magic, it could sometimes take a week or more for any letter to reach her from the furthest towns, especially problematic if they were situated in a dangerous location.

“What also bothers him about it is that he can't spend as much time with the departed souls as before,” Thanasia continued, sounding a little perplexed by the fact.

“He likes talking to them,” Celestia said. “They always seem to have a story, and he's fond of comforting them in times of need. I think it's kind of sweet, really.”

“Sometimes he'll ask them to follow him,” Thanasia added, with a hint of disapproval in her voice.

“Well, as you said, Mort can't stay with them, so having them follow is the next best thing,” Celestia explained reasonably. “These ponies are often scared and confused. They're not simple creatures that can take it in stride. They sometimes need a guiding hoof.”

She couldn't help but notice the pregnant silence that followed. It grew thick, almost as if it were something she could touch. Thanasia had chosen to stare at her now, a cold gleam in her eyes. Celestia shifted her front legs uncomfortably. “Was there something else?” she asked.

Thanasia's eyes narrowed a touch. “He misses you,” she said stiffly. “Very much.”

“Oh...” Celestia's face fell, as she felt a small wave of guilt. “I...miss him very much, as well.”

“You don't understand.” Thanasia's voice grew harder. Before it was like a chilly gale. Now that gale had ice in it. “He dislikes the growing intensity of his work, but only because it means he is unable to see you or your sister. Were it not for that, I believe he could easily tolerate it. As it is now, however, he becomes more and more distressed at the idea of never seeing either of you. I told you he wasn't happy, but to be exact, the word he had used was 'miserable.'” Her eyes were just slits now. Celestia could almost feel the venom from them. “And he's only getting worse.”

Celestia became silent, a dark pit growing in her stomach. As the years went by and their meetings grew shorter and farther apart, Celestia felt more than a little apprehensive about what it would mean for Mort. Though it did pain her to see him less and less, she still found company in other friends and companions as the centuries rolled on. Mort, meanwhile, had only the company of unintelligent shades, and a creator that seemed more cold and distant than the moon.

But no matter how much time passed, the shade always seemed upbeat every time he saw her, and every time he left. Despite what some would say, immortality did not make the years seem shorter. They would be as long and hard to mortals as they would be to immortals, Celestia included. She had hoped that, perhaps, it really was different for Mort, and that the passage of time did not bother him at all. He was a being of pure magic that did not experience the world the same way she did, after all.

Tonight was looking to turn that all on its head, and everything she had feared for some time wouldn't be as groundless as she had hoped. Mort wasn't a shade that thought like a pony; he was practically a pony that had taken the job of a shade. A pony that might be reaching the end of its rope.

“I'm sorry,” she finally said. Nothing else seemed appropriate. She had to blink some mistiness out of her eyes. “I...hadn't known...”

“Neither did I,” Thanasia said. The ice was gone from her voice, but the chill remained. “Mort, it seemed, was not the type to let any of us know what he was actually feeling. I can't tell if he was just in denial, or did not feel that we needed to know.”

Celestia sighed, wanting for there to be a silver lining in all this. “Well, I'm glad he told you, then,” she said. “It's not good to hold those feelings in for so long.”

Thanasia went quiet. This was not the same silence as before. That had been planned, intentionally foreboding. This was awkward and sudden. Unplanned. The taller alicorn's lips pressed together, and if Celestia didn't know better, she looked legitimately troubled.

A suspicion sneaked its way into Celestia's mind. One she did not like. “He did tell you, didn't he?”

Thanasia glanced at her, her eyes saying everything. “He did not tell me, per say...”

Celestia's mouth opened in shock. “You read his mind? Without his permission?”

Thanasia frowned at her, unperturbed. “What if I did?”

It took some willpower not to raise her voice. Her encounters with Nightmae Moon, Discord, and Queen Chrysalis had convinced Celestia that the worst thing you could do to someone, anyone, was to invade their mind. It was a path open to terrible abuse, and sometimes irreversible harm. Even the most innocent of spells, as her student had found out, could wreak havoc on a pony.

“We had an agreement,” Celestia reminded her sharply. “I wouldn't take advantage of him, and you wouldn't treat him like a mere tool!”

“Except he is my shade, and if I have the slightest inkling that something is wrong, I will use everything in my disposal to get to the bottom of it,” Thanasia told her frigidly.

“He might be 'your' shade, but still—”

“I do not lecture you on how you run Equestria, or raise the sun.” Thanasia's eyes were barely slits now, staring at Celestia with an intensity that seemed to burrow through her. “Do not lecture me on how I perform my duties, or treat my shades.”

There was a tense silence between the two. Celestia looked away, trying to reel her emotions back in. Thanasia didn't even seem the least bit guilty about what had happened. That was the worst of it. She seemed more embarrassed that she was caught than about what she did.

She was so deep in her thoughts that she was surprised when it was Thanasia who spoke first. “I do not make a habit of reading so deeply into him,” she said quietly, “but it is my job to know everything. Everything that happens in Equestria, and everything that happens to my shades. What was I supposed to do?”

Celestia didn't have to think about her answer. “You could have talked to him.”

Thanasia didn't have a response to that. She turned away from Celestia, staring silently into the night. The seconds ticked by, feeling like hours. Celestia reflected that it was for the best that Luna wasn't here. Her Royal Voice would've been in full use and waking the castle, if not the entire city. She was extremely protective of the shade. If Celestia saw herself as a friend to Mort, Luna almost saw herself as an older sister.

She looked behind her, and saw that Mort was now looking through the balcony window at them, a scroll levitating in front of him. It just occurred to her then how thin that glass really was. She gave him another apologetic look, then used her magic to close the drapes on the other side. Mort tried to keep ahead of the moving cloth, but a moment later he was obscured completely. Thankfully, he didn't try to peek through them.

It also occurred to her that the silent treatment wouldn't be doing them any favors. Especially Mort. She had to remember what was important here. “Just...tell me why you're here, Thanasia.,” she said. “If it's to blame me again for what's happening to him...”

Thanasia was silent. She sized Celestia up, her face expressionless. She then shut her eyes, breathing a tired sigh. “I came for your help, princess.”

She almost did a double take when she heard that. The anger she still held had nearly been all washed away by shock. “Excuse me?”

Thanasia opened her eyes again, the light in them having dulled. “Were this an issue of problem-solving, it'd be a simple matter to fix. His issues, however, are emotional in nature. He feels unhappy, but that does not mean he is 'wrong' to feel so. Nor can I simply order him not to feel that way. We simply can't approach this issue as if he were a shade...” She cast a meaningful glance at Celestia. “Rather, it may be best to approach this as if he were a 'pony' instead.”

Celestia slowly nodded, seeing the reasoning behind it. “And who better than another pony, you're thinking?”

Thanasia nodded. “Yes. You and your sister are the only ones who know of him, and you yourself have over a thousand years of experience in dealing with the conflicts of ponies, both from without and within. I will admit that it also helps that you are a...friend, of his,” she said, as if just barely getting the words out. “You do not want to see him hurt.”

In spite of everything that had happened a few minutes ago, Celestia couldn't help by smile wryly. “Thanasia, I think that's the nicest thing you ever said to me.”

Thanasia pressed her lips together, unamused. “Princess, please understand that just because I do not approve of your relationship, it does not mean I actually dislike you. I am above that sort of thing.”

And Discord was just a harmless prankster. “Whatever you say, Thanasia,” she said, keeping that same smile.

“Besides, you and your sister are partially to blame for how he turned out,” she said pointedly. “It's only sensible you take some responsibility in this.”

Celestia was ready to issue a retort, but thought better of it. They were making progress now, plus she did feel guilty about what he was going through. She recognized it was irrational, and that the weight of their responsibilities was far beyond her control, but it was still there, none-the-less. “Of course,” she said sincerely.

Thanasia stared at her, internally dissecting the words. “Alright, then,” she said. “What would you suggest, Celestia? If Mort were just another pony, what would you have him do?”

The sun princess scratched her chin in thought. Were Mort just another pony, what would she have him do? She took a moment to look over the baluster, trying to come to an answer. Her eyes glided over the city below her, down the mountain that it was built on top of, and across the fields and forests that made up her kingdom. She saw the dirt paths and the train tracks that lead from Canterlot to many other cities in Equestria, including...

The idea struck her like the first morning ray. The answer was so obvious! The only problem—at least, the most significant one—was convincing the alicorn beside her. If she wasn't careful, Thanasia could just take Mort and fly off.

She took a breath, and put on her most charismatic smile. “Honestly, Thanasia, if another pony came to me, telling me he felt this way, I would tell him to take a vacation.”

Thanasia slowly blinked, wearing a vacant expression. “A...va-ca-tion?”

“Yes. You know, a holiday?”

“Holi...day...?” Thanasia's brow was knit in thought, struggling to digest the words. Celestia wasn't sure if she had ever seen her so confused. “The days with the trees and gaudy clothes?”

This was going to be harder than she thought. “No, I mean he would need time off. A break. A leave of absence.” Thanasia continued to give her a blank look. Celestia rolled her eyes, and said, “Have him stop working for a while.”

Thanasia's eyes shot open. “Out of the question!” she exclaimed immediately, actually sounding mortified. “The ponies are one of the largest and most expansive species in Equestria! Having him...stop, would throw everything into disorder!”

“Then can't you have another shade fill in for him?” Celestia offered hopefully. “Maybe the phoenix shade? I'm sure it wouldn't be too busy.”

Thanasia snorted. “Unfortunately, they're considered a delicacy among many carnivores, on fire or not. None of my shades can take over.”

“But—”

“None.” Thanasia punctuated that word by pounding the balcony with her hoof. Celestia could feel the tiles quake beneath her. “I require each and every shade to insure my prophecies are accurate. Without even one of them in the appropriate spot, we could miss the death of a creature, or worse, an action that would spell death for multiple creatures!” Thanasia took a breath, composing herself face again. “Think of something else.”

Celestia looked down at her hooves, trying just that. She couldn't. Not because she was short on ideas, but because it really did seem to be the best thing to do. Mort was stuck in a cycle of doing the same thing over and over again. Having time away from it all seemed to be the best way to help him now. But Thanasia was right, it was dangerous to leave his duties unattended. How could it be filled...?

She looked back up at Thanasia, who stared at her impatiently. It was then she realized the answer had been looking at her this entire time.

“You.”

Thanasia blinked once. “Excuse me?” she asked, with an arched brow.

“You could fill in for him,” she said. “Did you not once tell me that, eons ago, it was only you who reaped the creatures of this world?”

“That's...true,” she admitted hesitantly. “But the key word here is eons. The world is much different now. Much larger, and its population far more numerous than what I had deemed possible long ago.”

“But surely there aren't that many more ponies now than there were creatures as a whole then,” Celestia continued, not ready to relent yet. “And I'm sure you're as fast as any shade. And it'll give the ponies some comfort to be greeted by a shape they're familiar with.”

Thanasia closed her eyes, silently considering the idea. “I'll grant it's not impossible, but it would also mean taking time away from weaving the prophecies...” She opened her eyes again, looking thoughtfully at Celestia. “Still, even if I did go through with this, what then? You said so yourself that you're often too busy to see to him, and Luna would not be that much better. What would he do?”

Celestia chose to bow her head, just slightly. “You're right. As much as I would like to spend time with him, the fact is my sister and I would be in positions that force him to remain intangible most of the time. That's hardly fair to him. He needs to be more than a spectator. He needs...” Celestia braced herself. This would be the hardest thing to argue. If Thanasia did not like the idea of “not working,” she would most certainly loathe this. “He needs to be able to make friends.”

Thanasia stared at her. A moment later, her eyes began to fill with comprehension. “No,” she said, slowly shaking her head.

It didn't deter Celestia. She couldn't let it. “My student, Twilight Sparkle, lives in Ponyville. Ever since she went there, she's been learning how to make friends, and the things she could show him—”

“No!” Thanasia's jaws were clenched, and her eyes, which once glowed with the softness of a lamp, now burned with the brightness of a bonfire. She was not just irate, she was livid. Celestia had always wanted to provoke stronger reactions out of the shade leader, but she had hoped they would be in a more positive direction. “The moment they see him...the moment they're even within his presence...!”

“I know we can't do much for that effect he has on others,” Celestia admitted. “But my sister is an expert in the magical arts of disguise and transformation. Not just in using it on herself, but also in applying it to others. She could craft something, and...”

“No...just, no...” Thanasia shook her head, looking more conflicted than Celestia had ever seen her. “You...you want me to take him away from his responsibilities, and have him mingle with mortal creatures?! That's...he'll only get...!”

Celestia bit her lip, wracking her mind for the right words. “You wanted to know what I would do, were he another pony,” she said, walking up to her. “This is it. Mort needs a chance to get away from his duties. To laugh! To have fun! To not worry so much about where or when the next pony will die.” She gently laid a hoof on Thanasia's shoulder, drawing a rare, surprised look from the alicorn. “You want me to help him, but I can't do it without you. So please, help me help him.”

Thanasia stared at her a moment longer, before her eyes glanced to the hoof on her shoulder. She brushed it off and turned away, muttering darkly under her breath. Celestia watched anxiously as the ashen alicorn paced back and forth, appearing more and more irate as time went by. Celestia's hopes shriveled bit by bit the longer it went on.

Finally, Thanasia stopped. She took a deep breath, then exhaled, her body relaxing as she did so. She turned her head towards Celestia. A certain calm had returned to her expression. “You are...certain, this will work?”

Celestia kept her composure in check. “I would by lying if I said I was absolutely certain,” Celestia said, coming forward. “But Mort's been working so hard and for so long. He deserves a break, and an opportunity to not be the Pale Pony, if only for a little while. He needs a chance to just be Mort.”

Thanasia did not look very convinced. Not at all, even. She approached Celestia, her eyes half lidded. She only stopped when she was a breath away from the sun princess.

“I do not like this,” she said, her voice low, “but it doesn't change that your judgment has been sound, much more often than not. If you truly, truly believe this will help him, then yes, I shall agree to let him...stop working.”

Celestia smiled, feeling a wave of relief. “Thank you, Th—”

“However!” Thanasia's hoof flew into the air, silencing Celestia. “I will be the one to decide whether or not he is fit to return to duty. Not you, or your sister. Understand?”

“I...understand,” she responded hesitantly. She had very little choice in the matter. This entire plan hinged on Thanasia trusting her, so perhaps it was only fair to trust the ashen alicorn in return. “All I ask is you give Mort some leniency in how he acts around other ponies, and vice versa.”

“I may not have to,” Thanasia said. “Celestia, there are just too many uncertainties when it comes to Mort and living ponies. They can be fickle, easily frightened, and all too fragile. He could grow attached, and then something would happen to them. I do not want a repeat of what happened a thousand years ago. You know what I speak of.”

“All too much,” Celestia said, the memory eliciting a painful pang in her heart. She did not want Mort to go through something like that ever again, either.

“My suggestion,” Thanasia continued, “is that while he's 'off-duty,' he shall be spending that time with the other, intelligent shades. The ones just like him. It'll give him time to know them better, to offer them insight on whatever new emotions or thoughts they've learned, and also prepare him for the days in which he may work side-by-side with them. With the ponies expanding as they are, it's only a matter of time before the other species will be integrated with them.”

Celestia frowned uncertainly. “While I do think it's good for him to spend more time with them, how much would they really be able to do? They'll be too busy to do anything meaningful. Mort will be forced to tag along, and just watch them work.”

“They are not as busy as he is. And it is far safer than your idea.”

They looked at each other, neither one blinking. They had reached an impasse. No matter what else Celestia put forth, it wasn't going to change Thanasia's mind. And, she reflected, the opposite wouldn't happen, either.

She had one more idea to try. “How about we let Mort decide?”

“No, he'll just...” Thanasia trailed off, her eyes losing focus for just a moment. “He doesn't know what's best for him.”

“Oh, come now,” Celestia said amiably, “this is about him, after all. He should have some say in it. And he's much more mature than you give him credit for.”

Thanasia's eyes narrowed again, and Celestia could almost see the gears of her mind turning. She waited with bated breath, hoping for the ashen alicorn to agree.

Thanasia breathed out through her nose. “Fine,” she said rigidly. “Let's ask him, then.” Thanasia turned on her hooves and headed back towards the balcony doors, with Celestia behind her. The lead alicorn grasped the door handles with a green light, and opened them..

Celestia stopped just short of rubbing her eyes. This was not the same room she had left a few minutes ago. The furniture, clothes and nick-knacks were all put away, and as a result the room looked the same as it did before Storm Rider marched in. The paintings were even tilted at the exact angles they had been before.

Mort sat near the bed, fruitlessly trying to put together the pot that had fallen on him. He would reconstruct it from the shattered pieces, finding where every piece went before putting the soil and flowers in, but as soon as his magic faded, the pot would fall to pieces again. Then he would grumble under his breath and try again. He had yet to notice their presence.

The two alicorns shared a look. Celestia smiled sheepishly at Thanasia, who did not look nearly as amused. Wordlessly, Celestia's horn flared with a gold light, enveloping the remnants of the potted plant. Mort shot to his hooves as the decorative item was restored to its pristine, former state, where it was then placed on the podium it had fallen from.

The Pale Pony turned to the two of them, jumping at the sight. “Oh, you're done talking! Is everything okay? It sounded like you two were fighting...”

Thanasia surprised Celestia again. “Everything is fine, my shade,” she said calmly. “There was a disagreement, but nothing more.” Celestia would hardly call it a disagreement, but she wasn't going to argue about it now.

The cloaked, skeletal pony sighed in relief. “Oh, that's good! I was getting worried...”

“I see you decided to clean up,” Celestia commented, looking around. “Don't let anypony ever tell you you're not thorough.”

The pony shade looked at his hooves in embarrassment. “Well, it didn't take too long to read those reports,” Mort said, motioning towards the open cabinet, showing a neat stack of scrolls, exactly as they had been before. “After that I just got kinda anxious and had to do something, y'know. Ooh, I also found these!”

His horn glowed, and from the dresser he floated towards Thanasia a pair of gold earrings, each inscribed with Celestia's cutie mark. Thanasia glanced between the two items. She shot the pony shade a bemused look.

Mort hesitated a moment. “W-well, the symbol's wrong, but I think gold would look really good on you. Well, actually, any color would. One of the ponies I reaped said everything's complimentary with gray. So it could be red, blue, chrome, silver, purple...erm...” Mort became uncomfortably aware of the steady and impatient look he was receiving. He kicked one foot back and forth, humming uncertainly. “I-I just thought that, you know, it'd make you look pret...er, I mean, more grand, you know...?”

Celestia eyed Thanasia expectantly. Mort's creator looked between the jewelry and the shade, unable to come up with anything. Celestia was hoping for at least a, “Thank you.” She never got into earrings anyway, or the assortment of other jewelry that stuffed her drawers, for that matter. But they were often gifts, and she could never bring herself to throw those out.

Thanasia finally sighed. “What makes you think I have any need for jewelry?”

Mort's hold on the earrings faltered. Without another word, he deposited the earrings back on the dresser, looking disappointed. Celestia had to struggle not to face hoof. Utterly, utterly tactless.

Celestia cleared her throat this time, grabbing Mort's attention. “Mort, we have a proposition for you...”

Celestia told Mort what they had discussed, or rather, the parts that mattered. He was told about the possibility of going on vacation, as well as the ideas they both had. They spoke their ideas separately, going into as much detail as possible.

“...and there you have it,” Thanasia finished. “We both agree that spending time away from your responsibilities would be the best thing for you. What you do with that time, however, is up to you.”

“You could spend your holiday with Twilight Sparkle, or you could spend it with the other shades,” Celestia added. “Or, you could even choose neither. Equestria's your playground; you can choose what you want to do.”

Mort looked down at his hooves, pacing in a circle. He muttered under his breath, and Celestia could only catch the occasional word. A couple times he would stop, as if ready to say something, only to return to his mumbling. As she watched, it struck her just how similar it all was to what Thanasia had done on the balcony.

“I think...” Two heads snapped to attention. Mort turned around, looking between the two of them. He fiddled his hooves together. “I mean...i-if it had to be one or the other...” His gaze fell on Thanasia, who stared back at him silently. Celestia watched the wordless exchange, wondering if Thanasia could see something she, herself, couldn't.

Mort suddenly looked away. “I'm sorry,” he said sadly.

Something flickered across Thanasia's face, but Celestia couldn't tell what it was. “It is fine, my shade,” she said, her voice calm. “You were given a choice, and you made it.” Thanasia turned on her hooves and started towards the balcony, her wings beginning to extend. Now Celestia understood; whatever look Mort had intended to give, it was one of remorse for not picking her.

Mort darted in front of Thanasia, his voice frantic. “P-please, it's not personal or anything!” he said. “I-it's just she helped saved Luna, and I always wanted to thank her, to tell her how much it meant to have her back! A-and everytime I read a report, or see her, or—”

Thanasia's hoof moved quickly, stopping on Mort's mouth. The shade went silent immediately. Celestia wondered if it was coincidence that it was the same thing she did earlier that evening. Thanasia's horn flared brightly, casting a green glow on both of them. Celestia watched as a green tether appeared between them, connecting the shade and his creator. The middle of it then began to thin, until disappearing completely. The magic faded and Mort stumbled. It was as if an invisible string that had been supporting him this entire time had vanished.

“W-what happened?” he slurred, struggling to stay upright.

“I've severed your link to myself and the shade subconscious,” Thanasia explained. “You are, until further notice, relieved of your current responsibilities. In their place, I entrust to you a new responsibility: to enjoy your 'holiday.'” She turned her eyes to Celestia, her gaze frigid. “I'll be checking on him regularly. I'll be 'lenient' as you ask, but the first sign of trouble...”

She let the words hang there. As Mort sat on the ground disoriented, Thanasia briskly moved past him towards the balcony. Celestia found herself rushing towards her, and caught up just as she was about to take off. “Wait!”

Thanasia paused. Her wings were outstretched, primed and ready for take off. She turned her head to look at Celestia. She was stone-faced. “Yes?”

Celestia took a breath. “Thank you. Again.” When Thanasia didn't say anything, Celestia found herself compelled to continue. “It doesn't always have to be like this, you know. I'd love a chance to just talk to you. What you've seen, what you've experienced...just a chance to be friends.” She took a step forward, smiling warmly at the ashen alicorn. “After this is over, maybe you can stop by? To start over?”

Thanasia stared at her coldly, a grimace etched on her face. “I have much work ahead of me, Celestia. Good night.”

Celestia couldn't hide her disappointment. “Of course,” she said, bowing her head. “Good night, Thanasia.”

Thanasia bowed back wordlessly. Her great wings flapped, and a moment later she was gone, flying into the night sky. Celestia watched her go until she faded away from sight. Sighing, she turned her head to see Mort walking up behind her. He looked up at her, and she knew the shade was still troubled.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. He walked until he was beside Celestia, and brought his forehooves up on the baluster. He rested his head on his hooves, looking towards where his creator disappeared. “I hope she'll be okay. She hasn't spoken to a pony since...well, me, I'd think.”

“She'll be fine,” Celestia assured him, all the while hiding her own doubts. “I think it'll be good for her, actually. She'll be able to interact with ponies, and understand why you like them so much. It might help her understand you better, too.”

“I hope so,” he sighed. “Where's Luna, anyway? She still out?”

“I think so.” Celestia searched the night sky. Luna should have been back in Canterlot by now. She typically didn't “risk” staying out so late, and would usually be back once the concerts were over.

As she was looking towards the moon, her eyes caught something dark flying in front of it, and gliding towards the castle. Trailing behind it was something translucent, that sparkled like the cosmos. “There she is!” she said, pointing her out.

Mort hurried to the other side of Celestia, watching with an air of excitement. At least he was feeling better again, she reflected. Hopefully it would be good news from here on out.

As the dark shape got closer, Celestia noticed that something was wrong. She had no doubt it was Luna, but she was being accompanied by a strange noise. As her little sister neared her own room on the other side of the castle, Celestia realized that the sound was crying.

Her younger sister hit her balcony running, and with a wail, she threw open the glass doors and sped in, slamming the doors shut behind her.

“W-what's wrong with her?” Mort asked, worry entrenched in his voice. “Is she hurt?”

“I don't know,” Celestia said, with the same worry. “She goes out like this all the time. This is the first time I've ever seen her return in such a state.”

“Well, where'd she go?”

“A concert,” Celestia said. “I don't remember all the details. Her favorite band was playing, but other than that...”

She wondered about all the things that could've gone wrong. Was it canceled? Were the performances bad? Did that band she liked never show up? Did she go into the crowd and get found out? What would make her so upset...?

It was around then she noticed that Mort had stopped talking. She glanced down, and saw that the pony shade was staring at Luna's room. His eyes had shrunk, and Celestia could almost feel the fear radiating from him.

“Celestia,” he asked, his voice small, “you, uh, wouldn't happen to know what they called the concert, would you?”

The sun princess begun to put two and two together, apprehension growing inside her. Of course something like that would happen, on this night of all nights. “I think Luna had called it...Hoovestock? Does that ring any bells?”

Mort didn't answer her directly. Instead, he buried his face in his hooves, and moaned miserably.

This would be a long night.

Preparations

The pony shade and sun princess strode down the halls, the marble floor covered in a royal red carpet that silenced Celestia's hooves. Mort, meanwhile, floated beside her, letting the princess lead. Guards roamed the floors and stood at key rooms, and whenever Mort detected them being close by, he would fade from the physical world until the coast was clear. While the guards they passed would remain stoic, Mort could feel the slight confusion radiating off of them as Celestia passed.

A fair bit of anxiety was gnawing away at Mort as they walked along. It had been bad enough for Thanasia to leave like she had; in spite of what the ashen alicorn had said, he was pretty certain she was not at all okay with his choice. He was aware that he had often confused, sometimes even disappointed, his creator, but he didn't think she felt either of those things tonight. He was very afraid she was now actually angry with him this time.

Now to make things worse, Luna was obviously upset about what happened at Hoovestock. He should have realized why Spinal Clop's music had sounded so familiar: Luna liked to have it playing in her room when he visited. Red Shrimp's squishy end wasn't his fault, of course. To say otherwise would be like blaming a janitor for a pony spilling his drink. (Though admittedly, Mort didn't find the comparison all that flattering, to him or to the departed.) Still, Luna had been kinda moody, and had come close to shutting down a holiday over a simple misunderstanding. He had no idea how she would react to a pony's death so soon after coming back, especially one she may have admired.

“Do you think she's mad at me?” he asked quietly, as the previous guard they passed turned a corner.

Celestia looked down at him, her brow arched curiously. “Which one?”

There were times he believed that Celestia could read minds. “Er...both.”

Celestia smiled calmly, and Mort found that it drained away some of his fears. “Luna won't be mad. While I'm sure she'll be upset about what happened, she will not take her grief out on you. If anything, I feel it may even do her a little good to see you.”

He nodded along, his emotional status going down from “fearful” to “cautiously optimistic.” “What about Thanasia?” he asked.

It was subtle, but he saw how Celestia's smile faltered just slightly. “I'm sure Thanasia's just worried about you, Mort,” she said, her tone having a tinge of uncertainty, as it always was with his creator. “She still remembers what you went through all those centuries ago, and doesn't want it to happen again...”

Mort knew what she was talking about. A thousand years ago he was still relatively new to the idea of thought and emotion. While he was very acquainted with the happier feelings he had when in the princess' presence, he had never actually become associated with the more dour ones, such as “loss” or “pain” before. Not until the night that Nightmare Moon had been banished.

The legend went that the stars would aid in her escape after a thousand years. Unfortunately, no one knew this until a couple centuries later. So, at the time, he and Celestia had believed that Luna was, for all intents and purposes, gone. Forever.

Neither of them took it very well.

While ponies could not see him, they could certainly feel him, and it was no coincidence that so many pictures of him back then had portrayed him as a grim and terrifying figure. While the particulars were always a little different, the despair and pain in each picture was right on the mark. It was practically all he felt back then.

Perhaps he had appeared more somber than he realized, because Celestia brushed a wing across his form, and he could feel the warm, radiant life that existed in each of those feathers, each one boosting his spirits and making sparks fly within his being. Almost as if she were raising a sun from within.

“You have nothing to worry about,” she said. “That was a very long time ago, and you've grown much since then. You know how to handle those feelings now.” She giggled. “Besides, you're going to be spending a few days with some of the most wonderful ponies in Equestria. You won't have anything less than a smile, I'm sure of it.”

Again, Mort felt his spirits lifted. Celestia seemed very good at lifting things in general. There was more to her cutie mark than just the sun itself.

They were, at this point, passing a number of paintings and sculptures that had adorned the walls. All considered masterpieces, all created centuries ago, many considered only “good” or “mediocre” in their time, and more than a few done by artists who had, ultimately, killed themselves. He was always wary when he came for an artist, since the few depressing ones were unbelievably depressing.

He heard the sound of hooves coming his way, from a hall to their right. In an instant he vanished, waiting patiently for the next set of guards to move on. As they approached, he began to hear their voices, the pair in the middle of a conversation.

“...and if you're lucky, you might see him during a full moon, patrolling the halls like he did centuries ago,” one said, his voice gruff and ripe with age. “Only now he's traded in his armor for black robes, and has a face paler than Celestia's fla—”

“Hey, can you cut that out?” the other asked, sounding relatively young, his voice wavering slightly. A new recruit, if Mort had to guess. “Bad enough you believe in some ghost stories, but do you really gotta say it like that?”

There was a sound of armor jangling. “First off, lighten up a little. Second, those aren't 'stories.' I've seen him. The others have seen him, and you'll probably see him too. He appears and disappears at random, walks through walls, and does all sorts of other weird shi—”

Celestia cleared her throat.

“Princess!” The two guards that had rounded the corner (a white pegasus Mort recognized from earlier, and a younger brown unicorn) suddenly found themselves greeted by Celestia, who smiled cordially at them. The pair of them quickly bowed, their armor clamoring loudly as they did. “M-my apologies, I didn't see you there!” the pegasus said quickly, as if his life depended on it.

Celestia shook her head. “No need to apologize, good sir. I'm just on my way to see my sister. Proceed with your duties. Though, do try not to scare the recruits, please.”

“Of course,” he answered, a bead of sweat rolling between his eyes. The pair of them stood up, giving a stiff nod before they walked around her, and down the hall she came from, deliberately keeping their eyes forward.

Celestia waited a few moments, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Also,” she said, looking back at them, “I prefer 'snow white' or 'alabaster.' 'Pale' just sounds unhealthy.”

The pair of guards froze in place. Mort heard a snicker from the younger unicorn, causing the pegasus to rap him on the helmet before storming off. The unicorn was not far behind, muttering obscenities as he straightened his helmet.

Mort waited until they had turned another corner before reappearing. “Well, he was...colorful.”

Celestia shrugged. “Oh, he can have his fun. If I wanted emotionless guards, I would've invested in golems.” She glanced down at him, grinning. “Did you hear that 'story' they were talking about?”

“Oh yeah,” he said with a snicker. “Pretty silly, huh?”

Celestia cocked her head at him, looking puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, you know, ghosts,” he said, rolling his eyes. “This castle hasn't been the least bit haunted for the past five-hundred years or so.” That pony hadn't even been a guard. It was a servant who had insisted on staying out the rest of his contract, even if he couldn't actually do anything. A dedicated pony, but certainly not pale or dressed in black. “Really,” he said, with a dismissive wave of his hoof, “you go around spreading stories like that, and then you got everypony seeing it!”

Celestia's puzzled expression remained a moment longer, before breaking into a smile. “Well, you would be the expert on that.”

“Of course,” he said, with a degree of self-satisfaction.

As they got closer to a hall he knew very well, he became intangible again. The two of them turned down the corridor to see a pair of giant, oak doors. And as he suspected, they were flanked by two guards, pegasi who wore dark, indigo armor in contrast to the gold armor of Celestia's personal retinue.

Celestia stopped only a few feet from the door, and both guards bowed respectfully in her presence. “Has Princess Luna left her room yet?” Celestia asked them.

“No, your majesty,” one of them intoned. “She is still in a state of grieving.” Mort flinched, feeling his spirits drop considerably.

“Alright, then. Could you two leave for a moment? I need a little private time with my sister.” The guards simply nodded, and trotted away from the door, soon disappearing from sight. Mort watched them go, then turned back towards the doors, looking more ominous with each passing moment.

He waited. And waited. As the seconds ticked by he looked at Celestia, his head tilted in a questioning manner. Celestia stood stock still, waiting patiently, making it clear she wasn't going to go first. He sighed, not at all surprised.

He turned tangible, and with an audible gulp he lifted a hoof up, but hesitated before knocking. What was she going to say? What was he going to say? He was relatively casual about it in the past, no matter what the circumstances, but that certainly wouldn't be right anymore.

Looking at the door, he felt a strong temptation to “know” what was going on. It wouldn't be that hard. Shades were data sponges, after all, and were constantly gathering every possible bit of information around them. Physical and even magical barriers meant nothing. Even if he was cut off from Thanasia, that didn't mean his body had stopped collecting data.

If he concentrated, he could just try to gleam the basics without having to dive in completely. See where Luna was in the room, what she was doing, check her blood pressure, see how her hormones were to get an idea of how upset she was, maybe find an errant thought or two...

He resisted that urge, and felt ashamed for even thinking about it. Luna was his friend. She never tried to pry information out of him about possible pony deaths, so he shouldn't pry for her personal thoughts either.

He looked nervously at Celestia, hoping she would give some much needed advice, but instead the alicorn only smiled encouragingly. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door three times.

“L-Luna?” he started, his voice wavering. “It's, uh, m-me. Mort. Are you, uh...”

He went to knock on the door again, but this time the door creaked open, just wide enough for a pony (or in this case, a pony shade) to squeeze through. He looked questioningly at Celestia, who motioned for him to go in. Knowing that she wouldn't be convinced to go in first, he shuffled through the doors into the room.

Stepping into the room was almost like stepping a thousand years into the past. Very little had changed about Luna's room in the years that she had been gone, much of it owing to Celestia who had gone to great lengths to preserve it. There was polished furniture that had gone out of style centuries ago, its carpenters long gone in the tide of history. Not just the furniture, but also the fireplace, the vases, the bed sheets, even the wallpaper. Combs, brushes, perfume bottles, books, and even the stuffed animals...everything had been the recipient of meticulous care and restoration.

It was incredibly nostalgic, and though Mort would never admit it aloud, also somewhat eerie. He scanned the room, taking everything in, until his eyes fell on a figure by the window.

Luna's back was turned to him, the princess staring out an open window towards the plains and valleys that her room overlooked. She was hunched over, her mane and tail swirling around her like star-speckled waves. He swore he saw the streak of a tiny comet appear in her tail, vanish, than reappear in her mane.

His cleared his throat, and whispered, “Luna?”

The princess snapped her head around, her eyes seeming to glow white in the darkness. In an instant she charged at him, and the shade braced himself for whatever came next. He was expecting to be tackled, zapped, or yelled at.

He did not expect to be hugged.

“Oh, Mort!” she said, squeezing him so hard his head almost popped off, “We are—t-that is, I am so glad thou art here!” She let go, giving the shade a moment to collect himself.

“Y-you are?” he asked, using a free hoof to realign his skull. To the side, he saw Celestia come in and sit on the floor, watching them in silent amusement.

Luna blinked, startled at the question. “Of course,” she said, “after the events that have transpired tonight, I've been considerably distressed! Red Shrimp, the melodious drummer of the troupe 'Spinal Clop,' has met a grizzly end underneath a titanic skull! Couldst thou believe it?!”

Mort stared at her. “Yes,” he deadpanned.

“Oh.” Her cheeks turned a rosy color. “Y-yes, of course, thou would be very knowledgeable about it. Which is why I have been dearly wanting to speak with thee...”

Mort gulped. This was it. “L-look,” he started, “I'm really sorry about—”

“He did not suffer, did he?” she asked. “His end...it was quick, was it not? With little pain?”

This time, he was startled. It took him a moment to form an answer. “Oh, uh, I would say no pain,” he said, casually. “I mean, the first thing that skull did was sever his...uh...” His eyes caught Celestia, who gave a frantic shake of her head while making a zipping motion with her hooves. Luna's eyes had also widened in a manner that prelude terror. “Um, he didn't feel a thing,” he finished quickly.

Luna sighed, sounding both sad and relieved. “Well, there is that, at least,” she said, quietly. “How was he when thou met him?” she asked, looking troubled. “Was he upset?”

“Um, well, sorta,” he responded. “I-I mean, you would be too if your career got cut short by your own prop.”

“I suppose so. Did he find peace in the end?”

“O-oh yeah, of course!” he said, with a quick nod. “He was definitely content with everything when it was...y'know, time...”

“Did he say anything in particular?” she asked, curious.

“Ah, not really,” he said, scratching the back of his hood. “I mean, he had more questions than usual, but most ponies follow the three 'ohs.' 'Oh, I'm dead,' 'oh no, I'm dead,' and 'oh well, I'm dead.' Realization, angst, and acceptance, basically. Oh!”

“There is a fourth?”

“No, I just remembered something! Uh, wait, where is...” Mort's horn glowed, and from within his hood the autograph floated out, where it unfurled in front of Luna. “Um, before he left, I was able to get an autograph from him, and...y'know, I have a bunch of these already, so if you really want...?”

Luna's eyes scanned over the document. She gaped at him, looking stunned. “R-really? Are thou sure? He did address it to thee, and I always thought such things were...”

“Oh, no, it's okay,” he said, waving a hoof dismissively. “I've got plenty of mementos. One less isn't going to bother me, and I'm sure you'd take great care of it.”

She looked between him and the paper, appearing hesitant. He nodded encouragingly, floating the autograph closer to her. With an eager smile, her horn glowed gently, enveloping the autograph in a velvet blue glow. Mort released his hold just as she took it.

“I thank thee, Mort,” she said, and trotted towards her desk. It was stacked high with books, documents, and an abacus that looked ancient enough to belong in a museum. The wall it sat in front of had a bulletin board crowded with pictures of her after her return, letters addressed to her, and a few photos of the various bands she had taken a shine to. She used a tack to stick the autograph beneath them, and sat back to admire it.

“So...you're not angry?” he asked, hesitantly.

She turned around, confused. “Angry? About what?”

“Er, y'know, Red Shrimp...dying and everything,” he said, looking away.

Luna stared at him a moment, arching an eyebrow in puzzlement. A moment passed before she gasped, sounding almost scandalized. “Mort, thou doesn't truly believe I hold ill will towards thee?”

He shrugged. “I-it was just that you haven't been back long, and you really seemed to like this guy, and I just kinda thought that having this happen so soon would be...um...” He scratched at the floor, keeping his eyes directed at the floor.

Luna sighed sympathetically. “Mort, please calm thyself! I am not the least bit angry with thee.”

He perked up. “Really?” he asked.

“Of course not!” she said, giving him a reassuring smile. “True, the events of tonight did upset me, but I know thou never has any part in what happens. I understood quite well all those years ago, if thee recalls.”

“Um, well, uh, heh, heh...” He scratched the back of his head in embarrassment, remembering that Luna never gave him grief over some pony's death, or at least never after they became friends. He hadn't forgotten, so much that he was afraid of setting himself up for an even bigger falling out. “Y-yeah, you're right. Sorry I doubted you...”

“Thou art forgiven!” she said, nuzzling him. Mort felt himself relax as a feeling of serenity swirled through him, bathing him gently like moonlight. He murmured softly, realizing how little he got to feel something like this.

Suddenly, those feelings came to a halt as Luna tore herself away, looking guilty. “Oh, don't tell me thou hast come this way just to comfort me? What of thy duties? I am not making thee late, am I?”

“Oh, uh, I'm not going to be late for a while,” he said. “Maybe even for a long while...”

“Pardon?”

“What Mort's trying to say is that seeing you is only part of why he's here,” Celestia said, speaking for the first time since they arrived. She walked over, sitting down almost between them. Celestia then proceeded to explain to the younger sister about the night's events.

Knowing that Celestia tended to explain things better than he did, Mort got up and walked towards the window. Peering through the glass, his eyes focused on a small town, just barely visible from where he was. Down there, he surmised, there was a lavender unicorn who was probably studying some ancient text or how-to guide on social activities.

He knew of Twilight Sparkle years before she went to Ponyville, of course. He had seen her whenever he had visited Celestia, the student either with her head between the pages of some large book, or attempting some magic spell. (There was also that one time the filly had, unknowingly, concocted nitroglycerin in a lab experiment. He didn't believe he would ever tell Celestia about that.) It was fascinating watching her grow from that little filly into the magical expert she was today, and it didn't escape his notice how happy Celestia was every time she was with her.

It was one of the reasons why he insisted on reading Twilight Sparkle's reports when he found out about them. He was eager to see what the young mare had been doing ever since she saved Luna, and hoping that she was doing well in her new home. He was pleased to find that not only was she doing well, she was opening up to others and making plenty of friends.

He knew all of Twilight's friends, too, though less than he liked, and through ways he didn't prefer. With the potential exception of Fluttershy and Applejack, who both seemed vaguely familiar (which was rarely a good sign), he hadn't seen any of the others before the night Nightmare Moon returned. Afterward, however, he had seen plenty more of them through a surprising number of near-death experiences. They seemed nice and interesting enough, though admittedly he didn't have very much to go on. They were running or screaming most of the times he saw them.

Now he was finally going to get a chance to know them. To know the heroes who saved his friend from her nightmare, and helped bring peace to Equestria over and over again. They would go around the town, the eyes of dozens, maybe hundreds, upon them, as he talked to them about...as they did...as he...

“Oh no.” In an instant, Mort became aware that the earlier Excitement he felt had just been evicted, and in its place moved in Dread and Mind-Numbing Terror. The new tenants began to unpack, and did not seem to be in a hurry to move out anytime soon.

Mort was shaken from his awful realization at the sound of Luna gasping. He turned to see the moon princess staring at her sister with complete shock. “Thou speak truthfully?” she asked. “Thanasia hast agreed to Mort's 'time off,' and to spend his days with Twilight Sparkle and her companions?”

Celestia grinned. “Verily,” she said.

Luna gasped again, and clopped her hooves excitedly. She looked at him, her face absolutely beaming. “Oh, thou art fortuitous, Mort! Twilight and her friends are exceptional at creating 'fun!' And thou will have so much time with them, as well! Thou must be excited!”

She gazed at him expectantly, smiling from ear to ear. She was really happy. “Y-yeah, excited,” he said, hoping that didn't sound as halfhearted as he thought.

Luna smile dissolved. Behind her, Celestia was giving him a bewildered look. His attention was caught again by Luna, who had positioned herself directly in front of him, staring straight into his eyes. Mort couldn't help but squirm a little under that gaze.

She cocked an eyebrow. “Are thou excited?” she asked slowly.

Mort gulped, his knees wobbly. “O-of course I am...” he muttered weakly, feeling smaller and smaller as Luna continued to stare at him. Her eyes widened and narrowed, and she tilted her head from one side to the other, scrutinizing him. The longer she did it, the more exposed he felt. Even Thanasia might learn a thing or two from her.

She suddenly gasped. “Thou art lying!” she exclaimed scandalously, pointing at him with an accusatory hoof.

He tried to muster a protest, fumbling over his words, but eventually he could only settle for a defeated sigh. “You got me,” he muttered miserably.

Celestia stared at him, looking surprised and, to his discomfort, hurt. “I don't understand, Mort. You seemed fine with it just a little while ago...”

“I-I know, but...” He sighed again. That's how the night was starting to feel, like one, big sigh. “I'm sorry, but it just occurred to me that...I've never mingled with other ponies like that before! And I mean actually mingle, not move around while invisible, intangible, inaudible and in...uh, ineverything, I guess. Dead ponies are one thing, but living ones? I wouldn't know what to do, or even talk about! This,” he said, tapping at his horn, “is practically all I do know!”

“Thou art being too critical of thyself,” Luna said, reassuringly. “Lest ye forget, we have gotten along very well with thee.”

“Yeah, and it took me a really long time to get that far,” he reminded her. “You thought I was the Boogey Mare for a while.”

“That's not fair! I was barely a filly, and thou lurked in the shadows for the longest time,” she said, disgruntled.

“Luna has a point,” Celestia said with a warm smile. “When you started out, you didn't know very much about being with us, but since then you've really grown. You may have to adapt a little, but being with them shouldn't be that much different.”

“But I know you,” he said helplessly. “I don't know Twilight as much as you do, much less her friends...”

“Twilight Sparkle didn't know Rarity, Pinkie Pie, or the others very well when she met them, either,” Celestia reminded him. “That didn't stop them from forming bonds. Don't think of it as a hindrance. Think of it as...an opportunity! You can only discover a pony once, after all.”

“But it goes both ways!” he replied despairingly. “If I mess this, they'll think I'm weird or something!” Granted, he was a shade whose age could be measured in millennia, but that only made him different, not weird.

Celestia's smile didn't waver. “Now Mort,” she said, with a ribbing, reproachful tone, “I thought you read all of Twilight's latest reports when you stopped by tonight?”

The sudden change in direction threw Mort off for a bit. “Um, I did...what does that have to do with anything?”

Celestia cleared her throat. “'Dear Princess Celestia,'” she quoted, “'Today I learned that, though first impressions are important, they are often not the sole indicator of who a pony is. No pony is perfect, and at times we may say something or act in ways that don't represent us at all.' Does that ring any bells?”

“That was...oh,” he said, feeling a wave of embarrassment. That was the latest report Twilight had sent, and also the very first one he had read tonight. “I...heh, t-that must've slipped my mind...”

“Even if thee should stumble,” Luna added, “so long as thy intentions remain pure and true, Twilight and her companions will be able to see it.”

“In short, stop worrying so much,” Celestia said, breaking it down.

The princesses looked at him fondly, smiling in a way that told him everything was right in the world. For a short moment, Mort almost believed that he had gone back over a thousand years, when the three of them had met in this room, sharing a conversation very similar to the one they were having now. That night, they looked at him the very same way they were doing now.

And just like then, he was grateful. So grateful for all the kindness they showed him, the things they taught him, and for opening his eyes like they had. If it weren't for them, he wouldn't be who he was now. It was a good thing he didn't have tear ducts, because otherwise he was sure he'd be crying right about now.

“You're right,” he said, making an effort not to make a choking sound. “I...I'll try not to worry so much. If you think it'll work out, then I'm sure it will.” The princesses nodded, looking pleased.

His eyes strayed from them, landing on a mirror near the wall. He walked over, staring into it. Staring out of it was was a bleached, skeletal pony with bright, burning eyes, wearing a cloak that would make the color black look pale. A horn jutted out the top of the hood, gleaming in the moonlight, and looking sharp enough to cut right through it.

“Still,” he said, “we should probably do something about this, huh?”

Celestia nodded behind him, the smile fading slightly. “I'm sure Twilight and her friends could look beyond it, but it would probably take time we don't have. Though I do not like tricking my student, a disguise would be in order...”

“Let me have a go at it, then,” Luna said. “Though 'tis a tad unusual to change a pony, 'tis not impossible. It may even be easier in thy case, Mort, since thou art essentially composed of magic.”

Luna braced herself, stretching out legs and wings, her horn glowing with a blueish light. Mort fidgeted uncomfortably, having very rarely been on the other end of a alicorn's horn. “Uh, this won't hurt, right? Pain is one of those things I'm happy to never learn about.”

“Have faith, dearest friend.” The light from Luna's horn reached its apex, and a beam of magic shot out, striking Mort. He was relieved to find that it only tickled.

Although slow at first, he began to feel the inklings of change within him. His form twisted and warped in ways he hadn't felt in the longest time. A magical shell formed around his skeleton to form an equine shape, and his molecules began to arrange themselves to imitate the aspects of a pony: a coat that covered him from head to hoof, a mane that cascaded from his scalp and down his neck, and a tail of the that flowed towards his hooves. The transformation was finished off with an orb popping into existence inside each eye socket, and his horn twisting into a conical shape. It all felt very unusual for him, but also a little nostalgic, reminding him of the days when he change his shape at will.

When it was over, he flopped on the ground, immediately aware of a waistline that was never there before. Pushing himself up, he swaggered on his hooves before finding his balance. He looked up at Celestia and Luna, both of whom were shocked.

“Well,” Celestia begun, with a slightly forced smile, “you do look like a pony. Mostly...”

Luna kept her silence, and just continued to stare at Mort.

Curious and a little fearful, he turned around to take a look at himself in the mirror, and gasped. What was in the mirror did bear some resemblance to a pony, at least in shape, but aspects of it were off: the red eyes were significantly smaller, the snout was longer and thinner, and his green coat seemed dull and washed out, including the gray mane and tail. There was clearly an aesthetic, just one he had never seen before.

“How do you feel, Mort?” Celestia asked hesitantly.

“Um, I feel...kinda fat,” he said, poking at the stomach underneath his cloak, and shuddering when he felt it move. It made him think of all the water and organs that would normally exist in that bag of flesh, and it made him feel queasy. He looked behind himself, and blinked with actual eyelids at what he saw wrapped around the base of his tail. “Is that a bow?”

Luna giggled nervously, her cheeks reddening. “I thought it made thee look...cute?”

Mort felt a sudden heat rush to his cheeks. Is that what blushing felt like? He turned to the mirror again, noting the new redness in his face, but no matter how much he looked, it didn't change that, in spite of a few similarities, he didn't really look like an Equestrian pony. “This...um...” He looked back at Luna, and smiled...or at least he thought he did. He never had lips before. “It's not...bad...?”

“No...of course not,” Luna said, sounding unconvinced herself. “But I'm sure with a little work, I could—”

But before she could even finish speaking, Mort gasped as his body begun to quake, jiggling like a pony-shaped piece of jello. There was a pop, and Mort collapsed to the ground, his body making a chattering noise as he did. He examined the mirror, and found himself back in his skeletal form.

Luna looked distressed. “I-I don't understand! I did nothing!”

Celestia walked over to help him up, extending a wing. “It's not your fault, Luna. To be honest, I half-expected this.”

Mort took the wing, his arms tingling from the touch, and pulled himself up. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

“You're made with a magic much unlike anything we've ever experienced, Mort,” Celestia explained. “I was hoping that it was similar enough that we could mold it, but it seems Thanasia made your form to be resistant to traditional spells. Anything we use on you won't last long, and may not even function properly.” The sun princess gave a disgruntled sigh. “It makes sense, I suppose. She wouldn't want mortal ponies to effect you in any way...”

“Why didn't you say something, then?” he asked.

“I'm afraid that if I did, Thanasia would have refused,” she said, looking somber at the thought.

Mort reflected that she was probably right. That she hadn't anyway was a miracle in-and-of itself. “Well now what?”

Luna scratched her chin thoughtfully. “Couldn't thou just change thyself? Ye did it quite often before, though I've been meaning to ask why thou stopped after forming the skeleton...”

Luna was talking about his first attempts to mimic the pony form. Back then he simply warped his dark, amorphous body into an equine shape, though had felt compelled to go further. Luna had given him the idea to “build” his image from the ground up, by forming the skeletal structure first, and then overlaying everything else on top of it: nervous system, organs, muscles, skin, hair...if all went well, he would have looked like an authentic pony, if only in image.

“Um, yeah, I was meaning to finish, but after...um...” Mort scratched at the floor, avoiding her eyes. “Y-you know, that whole business, all that time ago...”

“Oh.” Luna's face became downcast, clear guilt in her eyes. “Yes, I suppose thee would be a little...discouraged, after that.”

“I-it's okay, really!” he said hastily, feeling that the one conversation he had with Celestia about that night was more than enough. “I mean, it all kinda worked out, when you think about it.” He did an impromptu pose, raising his head in an attempt to look dignified. “They say simpler is better, and this is, indeed, a very iconic image, if I do say so myself.”

This elicited a mirthful giggle from Luna, dispelling the earlier melancholy quite nicely. “It is rather classic now, isn't it?”

“Absolutely! Now as for changing myself, well...” He scratched the back of his head, waiting for the rush of heat again, only to remember the skin and muscle was gone. “It's...kinda like a muscle, really. If you don't use it too much, it gets pretty weak, and I haven't shape shifted into much of anything for a long time...”

“Well, you won't know until you try, right?” Celestia nudged him back towards the mirror. “Come on, just envision yourself as a pony. Think of all the ponies you've met and walked among. Their eyes, their coats, their manes and tails...”

Mort fidgeted in front of the mirror, seeing the two sisters looking back at him through the reflection. With a gulp, he closed his eyes and tried to imagine himself not as a shade, but as the pony he was before. It wasn't right, but like Luna said, all he had to do was tweak it. He felt the familiar sensations of his body morphing into a new form. Parts of him shrunk and grew all at once as he struggled to get the correct proportions down. Increasing the size of the eyes, the hoofs, changing the head a little, and not making himself so wide.

Confident in his changes, he settled on a final form, keeping his eyes shut. He only opened them again to look eagerly at the sisters. “So, what do you think now?”

There was no reaction at first. Then Luna's eyes widened in what could only be mortal terror, and with a squeal of fright she buried her head in Celestia's wings, her body wracked with terrified sobs. Celestia's stared at him with wide eyes, her eyes twitching as the color seem to drain from her mane.

Mort was a little taken aback. “It's...that bad?”

There was another squeal of terror from Luna, and Celestia nodded in a slow, deliberate manner.

“Oh come on, it can't be any worse than...” He turned to look in the mirror, and was face-to-face with what could have only been an eldritch creature. It almost looked like a pony, but its head was swelled to enormous and lumpy proportions, balancing atop a tiny neck that seemed ready to snap in two. The creature's hooves could be seen peeking out from underneath the cloak, and judging by their size, they were obviously stolen from some unfortunate, baby elephant. Most frightening of all, however, were the giant eyes that could only stare, glassy and soulless, ready to swallow all who looked into their depths...

With a wail of fright, Mort pulled his hood down in front of the abominable face, and collapsed to the floor, curling into a ball and shaking violently, the monster's image still burned in his mind. He briefly wondered if this was what trauma felt like.

There was a racket at the door. “Princesses! Are you alright?” a voice yelled from the other side.

Luna recollected herself just in time to say, “Yes, we're quite alright! Don't come in!”

“But—”

“RETURN TO THY POSTS AT ONCE!” Luna's Royal Canterlot Voice boomed from within the confines of the room, shaking every window and knocking off trinkets sitting close to edges.

There was an audible silence from the other side, broken by a meek compliance. “Y-yes your highness,” the voice said. It was followed by the sounds of hooves walking away from the door.

Celestia poked around her ears, flinching. “Nicely done, Luna. But not so close to us next time...”

Luna blushed. “Um, yes, of course,” she said, returning to a much more in-door voice.

The pair of them walked over to Mort, who peeked out from beneath his hood. “Is..is it gone?” he asked.

The pair of them stiffened for a moment, before nodding slowly. Mort cautiously looked at the mirror, and was relieved to be met by a skeletal face. “Oh thank goodness,” he said, getting up.

“Mort,” Celestia said, steadying her voice, “I believe this this goes without saying, but that was...”

“Horrifying?” Luna voiced, with an involuntary shudder.

“I was going to say 'disturbing,' but that works too.” She left Luna's side to approach Mort, nuzzling him. “Are you okay?”

Mort briefly flashed to the reflection from before, and sniffled. “I am never, ever doing that again,” he whimpered.

“Yes, that clearly requires more practice,” Celestia said, stating the obvious.

It certainly didn't bode well. Not just how it came out, but how it vanished so easily. Mort recalled Thanasia mentioning to him how distracted he could easily get. Staying in a transformed state would require a concentration that would need to be stable and unbending under every circumstance. He was most definitely not in a shape to do that.

“Maybe we should try something else,” he said. “Hmm...how about...”

He looked in the mirror, noting how obvious the bleached skull was in the hood. He tried to transform himself again, but in a different direction. His skull head faded out of sight, taking with it the eyes as well. He watched the mirror, pleased to see that there was only complete darkness in the hood. He liked this; it wasn't nearly as difficult as the last two attempts.

“How about this?” He trotted over to the sisters, walking in circles as he showed off his empty hood. “I mean, really, the head and everything's mostly cosmetic. I can see perfectly fine without them, and this way no one sees a pony skull. Plus it's much easier.”

“True,” Celestia said, some color returning to her mane, “but I don't think it's possible for a hood to hide so much so well.”

“I don't even believe it looks dark. Just empty.” As Mort was walking near her, Luna suddenly stuck her head within the hood. “Salutations!” she called, her voice echoing within his hood, and in turn, his head.

Mort stumbled back a ways, shaking his hooded head before finally reforming the pony skull and eyes. He groaned in annoyance, stomping his hooves on the ground.

“Alright,” he said, annoyed, “I look even creepier trying to look like a normal pony, but getting rid of my head altogether looks wrong too. So how do I go around Ponyville without scaring all of them?”

“Hmm...” Luna's horn glowed, and from a bookshelf there came a thick tome, floating over to her. She flipped the book open, and begun to flick through the pages with her magic, her eyes looking at the paper intently.

Celestia looked over her shoulder. “What are you looking for, Luna?”

“Spells,” she answered, not looking up from the book. “There are many spells out there that act to hide the spell caster. Transformation, charms, holographic imagery...perhaps one of these spells will hold the key.”

Mort was immediately doubtful. “Didn't Celestia just say that normal spells won't work on me?”

Luna didn't falter. “Yes, when we performed them. But perhaps the results would be different if thou were to attempt it, Mort.”

“Me?” Mort asked, pointing at himself. “But...I don't know any illusion spells.”

“Which is why I shall teach thee,” she said, laying the book on the floor. “I've tried a few of these myself, and am very knowledgeable about them. Combined that with your abilities, you should be able to learn a spell before the night is out!”

Mort was a little lost, until he realized the “abilities” she meant were the ones that helped him gather information. If Luna could demonstrate the spell a few times for him, he should be able to gather exactly what she did, and then replicate it. He had never used it like that before, but it seemed logical enough.

Celestia, at that point, let out a great yawn, her wings stretching to their full length. “Oh my goodness,” she said, a hoof to her lips in embarrassment. “Excuse me. I don't know what came over me.”

Luna stared at her, then looked at a mantel clock above the fireplace. “Good heavens,” she exclaimed, “Celestia, thou should return to thy bed! Doesn't thou have much to do tomorrow?”

“I really do,” the older sister said, thoughtfully. “But there's still so much to do. I have to tell Twilight about our plans, and I should probably help Mort with—”

“No,” the darker sister said, and began to push her sibling towards the door. “Thou should go back to sleep immediately! I can assist Mort from here.”

The older sister glanced back as she was slid across the floor. “And the letter?”

Luna stopped her shoving to consider that for a moment. “I shall write her!” she declared.

“Are you sure? You would need to—”

“Sister,” the princess whined, “thou art always the one to announce such important tidings! Let me be the one to tell Twilight, if just this once!”

Celestia glanced up thoughtfully, then slowly grinned. “Oh, alright. If you really want to.” Luna emitted a squee noise (a sound Mort still had no idea how to imitate himself), and continued to push her out of the room. Celestia rolled her eyes, and shot Mort a final, encouraging look. “Good luck tomorrow, Mort.”

“Thank you,” he said. “Have a good night.”

As Celestia was pushed past the doorway, the princess turned and nuzzled her sister one more time, wishing her a good night. Luna closed and locked the door, and quickly trotted over to the bed.

“Mort,” she asked, “how much practice has thee had with magic?”

“Well,” he said, scratching the back of his hood, “there's the levitation thing, my scythe, turning intangible, but I think that last one's more physiology than magic...”

Luna scratched her chin, her brow creased in thought. “Very well,” she said, opening the tome again, “we have until sunrise to get this spell memorized. I can even teach thee some lessons in manners and etiquette. And if we have any time left...” She tapped her hooves together, smiling. “Maybe...we could play a board game?”

Mort considered for a moment. “...Do you still have the Candy Mountain game set up?”

Luna's horn glowed, and from underneath the bed came a box, its cover portraying two, ecstatic unicorns alongside an obviously grumpy unicorn as they trotted around a mountain covered in candy canes, lollipops and chocolate. The lid was lifted open, revealing a game board that had two game pieces taped to colored spaces.

“Um, I don't suppose we could play that first?” he asked hopefully.

Luna tutted. “Lessons first,” she said, putting the board game next to her, “Candy Mountain later.”

******

Twilight Sparkle looked at the pendulum clock hanging on the wall, the hands showing that the night was getting late. Stifling a yawn, she rubbed the bags from under her eyes and returned her attention to the matter at hoof; her friends had become involved in a dangerous, high-stakes, winner-take-all game, one that, at any moment, could send any one of them tumbling into an abyss that was virtually impossible to escape. Success or failure, it all rode on a little strategy, some negotiation skills, and a lot of luck.

She shut her eyes tight, feeling the arcane energy flowing through her horn as she levitated the luck-based artifacts. She gave a silent prayer to Celestia, shook them in the air, and threw them.

The two die rolled across the cardboard Ponopoly game board, before coming to a slow stop and showing their combined faces: three dots.

Twilight Sparkle moaned miserably as she moved her tiara game piece three spaces, landing on one of the more nefarious squares: GO TO JAIL.

“Aw, better luck next time, sugar cube,” Applejack said, the orange earth pony patting her friend's back sympathetically.

Twilight floated her game piece from one end of the board to the other, where there was a picture of a jail. All along the sides of the board were squares of varying color named after streets, railroad stations, or utilities in Shetlantic City. All her friends sat around the board: Applejack sat right next to her, on the left side of the board was Rarity and Fluttershy, the pegasus tending to the play-bits as a banker, and opposite of them was Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie. Applejack and Pinkie Pie had respectable piles of play-bits, but Rainbow Dash's pile and her own (especially her own) were dwindling rather fast.

Just as Twilight Sparkle had finished putting her game piece down, Pinkie Pie dropped over her head a miniature, plastic cage that wobbled because of her horn.

“Do I have to wear this every time?” she asked, shooting a dirty look at the pink pony.

“Come on, Twilight, it's all in good fun!” Pinkie Pie gathered up the dice and begun to shake them, their plastic molds knocking against her hooves. “When we get to jail, we'll have to put it on too!”

“You mean if you go to jail,” she replied, sourly. “I don't think I've even 'Passed Go' once since we started.”

“Now, now, Twi', it's just a bit of bad luck,” Applejack said reassuringly. “It's just a matter of time before you catch a break, Ah'm sure of it!”

Pinkie Pie let the dice fly, and the cubes rolled until they stopped with five dots showing. The pink pony moved her horseshoe game piece onto a “Chance” square. She picked a card from the center of the board, looked over it and squealed.

“'You're donation drive awards you 100 bits!' Woo hoo! Lay it on me, Fluttershy!”

“Oh, yes! Here you go.” The yellow pegasus gave a gentle smile, took some play-bits into her mouth, and plopped them onto Pinkie Pie's pile. “Don't go spending it all at once, now.”

“Or at all, like Rarity,” Rainbow Dash snickered.

Rarity, sitting next to Fluttershy, shot the young flier a heated look. “Pardon me? Was that supposed to be a jab at me, Rainbow Dash?”

“Hey, all I'm saying is the point of the game is to, you know buy things.” She shrugged. “Heck, if I landed on even half the stuff you did, I'd be doing a lot better!”

“Hmph. Unlike you, I've actually been to Shetlantic City,” she said disdainfully, flipping her mane.
“I don't know why they would make Boardtrot so expensive, it was a complete dump when I was there! I would never want to waste any bits on that.”

Twilight Sparkle stifled a giggle. Rarity had been one of the first ones eliminated, if only because she had completely refused to buy any of the properties she landed on, losing them all to the other players. (According to Rarity, Ponyvania Avenue had more in common with rats then ponies, Coltic Avenue had a terrible view, Lope Railroad was never on time, etc.) Eventually the picky unicorn had lost all her money to bad cards, or by landing on owned property.

The librarian's luck had been the completely opposite: she had somehow always managed to roll a number that lead her back to jail, or to get a card that stole away her play-bits. Fluttershy had eventually just decided to give her play-bits to the lavender unicorn, half out of pity, half out of wanting to get out of the game. The pegasus had picked a card stating in no uncertain terms she had gained 200 bits by selling off an animal preserve to a logging company. She hadn't taken it very well.

Rainbow Dash scooped up the dice in her hooves. “Whatever, it's time for me to get back in the lead! Make way for the Dash Deluxe Die Doubles Drop!”

She shook her hooves, faster and faster until they were a blue blur in front of everyone, somehow forming gusts of air that forced Fluttershy to use her hooves, wings and tail to keep the card piles from flying everywhere.

Finally, Rainbow Dash's hooves opened and the two die shot out at lightening speed, ricocheting off the board and around the room. Everyone yelped and squeaked as the cubes shot around the bottom floor, bouncing off walls, books, vases, and even Rarity's horn. The unicorn was about to snap something at Rainbow Dash, but had to duck to avoid the other die.

Both die finally came crashing back down onto the board, twirling on their corners before finally coming to a rest. Rainbow Dash took an eager look at them, only for that look to turn into one of despair. Shuddering, she covered her face with one hoof, and used the other hoof to move her Wonderbolt game piece towards its destination.

Applejack looked to see where Rainbow Dash was, and winced. She took her hat and held it in front of her in mourning. “Ooh, Rodeo Place with a couple of hotels, too. Looks like yer out, Dash.”

The cyan pegasus, with a huff, shoved her remaining play-bits over to who had been the most successful player the entire game, by far. She turned her back to the player, her forelegs crossed in a pout.

“There you go,” she grumbled sourly.

“Hoo.”

“You.”

“Hoo.”

“You!”

“Hoo.”

Rainbow Dash fumed. “I just said-”

“Uh, Rainbow Dash?” Twilight Sparkle interrupted, flatly. “That's just what he says, on account of being an owl.”

“I knew that,” she said, though the hot streak across her cheeks said otherwise. She glared daggers at Owlowiscious, Twilight Sparkle's nighttime assistant, as it perched on a neat stack of play-bits. “How does he even know how to play?!”

Twilight Sparkle shrugged. “Oh, this is nothing. You should watch him play chess.”

“Don' you worry none, Dash, there ain't no shame in losin' to a good player.” Applejack took the dice up and sent them rolling across the board, and moved her wagon game piece appropriately. “It's too bad Derpy couldn't stick around for this late night get-together, Twi.”

The unicorn nodded, the plastic cage rattling. “Well, she does have to be up pretty early for her mail route. Not to mention she has her own responsibilities at home.”

“It was very noble of you to stick up for her like you did, darling,” Rarity said with an appreciative smile. “I think it meant the world to her.”

Pinkie Pie clopped her hoofs together. “Oh, definitely! You're really becoming the super-best-friendship pony in Ponyville, Twilight!”

“Oh, come on, it's not that big a deal,” the student replied with a blush. The gray mailmare had been a staple of Ponyville, but also a target for derisive names and remarks, mostly aimed at her eyes and habitual quirks. After spending a couple days with the pegasus, Twilight Sparkle had finally rose to her defense earlier that day to remind everyone what a good pony she was deep down. “I still have a lot to learn about friendship. I just hope Celestia likes the report I sent.”

“Aw, Ah'm sure she'll find it fine-and-dandy like always,” Applejack said, collecting 100 play-bits from Fluttershy. “Don' think you'll be hearin' anythin' 'til tomorrow, though, late as it is.”

Twilight Sparkle grinned sheepishly. “I did send the report a little later then normal, didn't I? Well, I'm sure she'll have plenty of time to read it—”

Before she could finish, everypony (and owl) jumped at the sound of a large belch upstairs, followed by the telltale smell of smoke tinged with sulfur.

Groaning tiredly, Spike hobbled down the stairs, his eyes practically closed from exhaustion. He rubbed at his eyes with one claw, as the other held a wrapped parchment with a horseshoe seal.

“Twilight,” the baby dragon yawned, “I think the princess sent you something.”

“Huh? Now?” Twilight Sparkle got up from her position and walked over to Spike, levitating the scroll from his claws. The dragon gave a big yawn and curled up in front of the stairs, mumbling.

Fluttershy looked at the scroll quizzically. “Why would she send you something so late at night?”

“It's not an emergency, is it?” Rarity asked with an edge of concern. “There's not another hoodlum dragon in the mountains, is there?”

“Give me a second.” Twilight readied herself to open the scroll, when she noticed something different about it. While all of her letters from the princess was sealed with a gold loop, this one had been sealed with one that was silver.

Confused and intrigued, Twilight made to unwrap the scroll, but stopped when she realized the plastic cage was still on her head. With a level look, she floated the cage off her head and plopped it on the gameboard.

“Hey, you just broke out of jail!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed, pointing an accusing hoof at her.

“I've been royally pardoned,” the unicorn replied flatly. With that said, she cleared her throat and began to read from the parchment out loud. “'Dear Twilight Sparkle, Our most prestigious savior,'” she started, with a hint of pride in her voice. “'Our sincerest apologies to thee and...thy...?”

There was an exchange of confused looks between the friends as soon as the archaic Equestrian popped up. “Since when did Celestia speak all oldy-like?” Applejack asked.

Twilight glanced at the scroll in front of her, and back down at the silver loop, piecing it together. “AJ, I don't think Celestia wrote this. I think this is from Princess Luna!”

“Luna?” Pinkie Pie popped up from behind Twilight, scrutinizing the letter. Her accusatory tone resurfaced. “Hey, you didn't say you were sending friendship reports to Luna now! Does Celestia know about this?”

Twilight stared at her with an oft-used perplexed expression. “What? No, Pinkie—”

The pink mare gasped, looking mortified. “Twilight, how could you! Going around Celestia's back like that! To think she trusted you!”

“Pinkie, I never sent a friendship report to Luna!” Twilight replied, feeling oddly defensive. “This is just...a misunderstanding, that's all!”

Rarity facehooved with a groan. “Oh, for pity's sake, just tell us what it says, darling!”

Twilight stared at Pinkie, gesturing for her to step back. The party pony did, but all the while kept a pair of suspicious eyes on her. Twilight rolled her eyes, and started on the letter again. “'Our sincerest apologies to thee and thy assistant for sending this at such a late hour.'”

“If she was sorry, she would've sent gems,” the baby dragon mumbled quietly.

“Shh! 'Twilight, We feel that thy research into the magic of friendship has been of great benefit, not just to thee and thy friends, but also to Equestria as a whole. Time and time again, thou hast delivered us from great evil, whether it be from the diabolical machinations of the changeling Queen, the dark magic of the spirit of disharmony, or even our regrettably misguided actions.'” She stopped, her face flushing with embarrassment. “Um, wow, she's really laying it on thick, isn't she?”

“Why shouldn't she?” Rainbow Dash smacked Twilight Sparkle's back, causing the latter to grunt. “We rock!”

Rarity nodded with a smile. “Indeed! I know it's not always posh to gloat, but we are a fairly successful group of mares, if I do say so myself.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “You'd think they would have written a couple books about us by now...”

“O-oh, please, no,” Fluttershy whispered, trembling. “The less they know about my younger years, the better.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Pinkie Pie asked, hopping in place. “Keep reading! Keep reading! Maybe she wants to throw us a huge party or something!”

Twilight Sparkled nodded, and did so: “'When We look at thee and thy friends, and all that has been accomplished, it reminds Us of how powerful friendship can be, and what it can do in a pony's darkest hour. It is for this reason, in fact, that We wish to impart thee with a new, and very important, task.'”

There was a collective ooh from the others. Behind them, Spike grumbled, a leg absently scratching at his ear.

“What's she want us to do?” Rainbow Dash asked, excitement rising in her voice. “Go on an adventure? Find another element? Charge into Tartaurus itself?”

“I really hope not,” Twilight grumbled, recalling her last trip. Going there was never that difficult, it was always just getting out. It also didn't help that by then, Cerberus had discovered the joy of ball chasing and become rather friendly with her. Too friendly.

Wanting not to dwell on that particular memory, she continued. “For thy next task, Twilight Sparkle, I charge thee with showing the magic of friendship to...'” Twilight stared at the words, her face scrunching up at the name. “Mort?”

Fluttershy sighed in relief. “Oh, thank goodness...”

Rainbow Dash's jaw went slack. “That's it? She just wants us to be friends with somepony? Lame!”

“Come on now, sugar-cube, there ain't nothin' 'lame' about gettin' to know another pony,” Applejack chided.

“I-I know that! But when you open up a letter like that, you'd think it'd be a little more...y'know, exciting!”

“What are you talking about, Dashie?” Pinkie Pie started to hop up and down, going in a circle around the ponies. “We're going to be making a new friend! What could be more exciting than that?!”

“Hold on, girls, there's more. 'In this world there are many creatures that have important responsibilities, responsibilities that can not be easily shifted or shared by others, and can never be left unattended. Mort, unfortunately, is one of them. We cannot speak of it at length, but he has a duty that cannot be done by any other, and because of this, has had little reprieve from it. It would not be an exaggeration to say that he has not known true rest for many years.'”

“Well, that just sounds dreadful,” Rarity said, looking stricken.

“No kiddin',” Applejack added. “Farm life ain't easy, but even I can manage a day or two off.”

“They can't do anything? No partying? No singing?!” Pinkie Pie was reeling from the idea of another pony never having any fun, as if she had just been told something that was utterly improbable. (Perhaps, in Pinkie Pie's case, the equivalent of saying that gumdrops weren't sweet.) “How's that even possible?”

Rainbow Dash scratched her chin in thought, and gasped in excitement. “Maybe he's a super, secret agent!” In an instant she got low to the ground, her eyes darting left and right. “Somepony who's behind enemy lines, blending in with bad guys, who has to watch his back at every turn, or risk being caught! Or worse.”

The last word was directed at Fluttershy, who squeaked in fright. She curled up on the ground, looking fearful. “W-would the princesses really use spies...?”

“Of course not,” Twilight said testily.

Applejack hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe he's one of 'em fancy aristercrats or somethin'? A prince, maybe?”

“I'm sure Fancy Pants can be quite busy, but he certainly seemed to have enough free time on his hooves,” Rarity commented. “And I'm sure even royalty is capable of some time off.”

“Maybe he's a chef!” The ponies all turned towards Pinkie Pie, who looked at them blankly. “What?” she said, defensively. “He could cook for the princesses! They're super-magical ponies who switch shifts! That's a super-metabolism twenty-four-seven!”

“Of course,” Twilight Sparkle said slowly, though she had to admit it was more than what she could come up with. It didn't help Luna had explicitly stated she couldn't go into detail about it. While Twilight wouldn't expect the princess to explain every, minute detail, couldn't she have at least said what the job was, at least?

She shoved those thoughts aside for another time. She returned her eyes to the letter. “'While recent circumstances have finally given Mort a chance to be away from his duties—a “holiday,” as they call it—he regretfully has no pony to spend it with. His “family” is quite distant and unavailable, and his only friends—while They care deeply for him—have important responsibilities of their own that, also, cannot go unattended. Mort is currently, for all intents and purposes, alone...'”

She couldn't keep herself from ending the passage on a morose tone. Twilight lingered on that last word, thinking back to before Ponyville, before meeting her friends. All those holidays and special occasions where she had opted to just study and stay in her room. Missing out on so much, so often. When she looked up from the letter, the rest of her friends seemed similarly somber.

All except Pinkie Pie, who seemed to be beaming. “Uh, Pinkie? Are you okay?”

“I think I know where this is going,” she said, barely able to contain her apparent excitement. “Keep reading, keep reading!”

Twilight arched a bemused eyebrow, and continued on. “'Thankfully, Twilight, not all is lost, for We know that thou hast learned very much since coming to Ponyville. Thou and thy friends have been able to bring joy to many ponies, whether it be in Ponyville, Appleloosa, or even Canterlot! It is for this reason that We charge thee with showing Mort the magic of friendship, and make this a truly glorious holiday that he will not forget.'”

“Woo hoo! New ponies to be friends with!” Pinkie Pie bounced. “We can play games, party, eat cake, party, dance, and party! Isn't it great, Twilight?!”

Twilight Sparkle bit her lip. “Um, yeah! Great, really great...” She forced a smile, trying to hide the sudden apprehension she felt. Judging by the odd look everypony gave her, she knew she hadn't hidden it as well as she’d hoped.

“Are you okay, Twilight?” Fluttershy moved closer, her face masked with concern.

“Well...” She opened her mouth, but couldn't bring forth any words.

“I thought you'd be more excited about something like this, dear,” Rarity said, standing next to Fluttershy. “I mean, this makes two princesses that you answer to now, and you always seem so excited about making more friends...”

“I know, and I should be, but...” Twilight Sparkle scanned the paragraphs talking about “Mort,” feeling doubtful. “It's just kind of unusual...you'd think that Luna would actually say what he did, but she doesn't mention a thing about it. She doesn't really tell us anything about him at all.” There were other things as well; the quotations around the word “family,” for instance, and how she had capitalized “they” when referring to Mort's friends. Maybe he was royalty?

She sighed, feeling slightly aggravated, which is how she always got when not getting the full picture. “I don't know. There's being vague, and then there's just not saying anything at all!”

“Hey, if I was sending my top secret-agent out into the field, I wouldn't say anything either,” Rainbow Dash said, as if it were obvious.

“Oh please,” Rarity retorted, rolling her eyes. “He has just as much chance of being a janitor at this point.”

“Yeah? What's so 'unique' about being a janitor?” Rainbow Dash asked her, tersely.

“Well I certainly don't know, but it's certainly more sensible then some 'spy,'” Rarity said, her voice adamant.

“Girls, stop,” Twilight Sparkle said absently, scratching her head. “I'm sure there's a good reason for it...”

“Oh, stop being such a worry wart about sorry Mort!” Pinkie Pie giggled. “Luna just wants us to make new friends! It's not like she's testing you or—”

Pinkie suddenly clamped her mouth shut with her hooves, but it was too late. The dreaded T-word had already entered in one of Twilight's ears, and was currently bouncing around her head like a super-heated atom.

“That's it! That's exactly what this is!” she said, not noticing the shared, apprehensive looks between her friends.

Applejack cleared her throat, and smiled nervously. “Uh, come again, sugar cube?”

“It's obvious!” she said, and she couldn't believe she didn't see it before. “It's a test! Luna's testing me to see if I could befriend a pony I don't know anything about! What he's like, what he does, even what he looks like! A complete and total stranger!”

“I don't know,” Fluttershy said softly. “I mean, you're already friends with us, and you knew even less about us than him...”

“She's right, dear,” Rarity said, sounding skeptical. “Why test you on something you're obviously good at already?”

Twilight Sparkle felt her earlier conviction fade. “I...I don't know. Maybe there's something special about him? Maybe he's really difficult to be with, or maybe something about his appearance scares others? When you think about it, she doesn't even tell us if 'Mort' is a pony at all.” She sighed. “I don't know, but this all just seems to scream scream 'secret test!'”

Pinkie Pie hummed, unconvinced. “I still think she just wants him to have friends.”

“No reason it can't be both,” Applejack said. “But we won't know what's special 'bout 'im 'til he gets here.”

“Speaking of which, when is he getting here?” Rarity asked.

“Oh, uh...” Twilight Sparkle took another look at the scroll, and noticed that the bottom of it was still curled up. She straightened it, and begun to read: “'Mort will meet thee at the library tomorrow morning at nine o'clock. I have the utmost faith in thee, Twilight Sparkle. Your Most Royal—' TOMORROW?!”

Twilight Sparkle's scream caused them all to leap back, staring at her. The unicorn's eyes had grown to the size of saucers, the scroll floating to the ground. Somewhere in the back, Spike grumbled again.

“He's coming over tomorrow?! But it's...I don't...tomorrow's just...!” The unicorn began to hyperventilate on the spot, panic surging through her body.

“T-Twilight?” Fluttershy took a step back, a look of fear on her face. “Are you okay?”

She whipped her head around to look at them, suddenly feeling very claustrophobic. “You need to go,” she said, hurriedly, her horn glowing as she quickly packed up the Ponopoly board before all-but throwing it back onto a shelf. “I'm sorry, but I need peace, quiet and a lot of time to study! We'll try this again sometime! I promise!”

“But Twilight—”

“Go!” Her horn glowed, gathering up all her friends into one spot, and she began to shove them out the library door. “Go-go-go-go-go!”

Before her friends could utter another word, she slammed the door shut behind them, and spun back around. Spike was still sleeping in front of the steps, and the clock was ticking away, each swing of the pendulum bringing tomorrow a little closer. She had only one thought on her mind then: study.

“Owlowiscious! Bring me copies of the friendship reports I sent the princess! Spike...” She looked at the foot of the steps, where next to them lay a curled dragon who was already far into dreamland. “Uh, on second thought...Owlowiscious? Could you...?”

The owl hooted, swooped down and grabbed the dragon by his fins. In one, graceful motion the owl flew to the second floor, and in a moment came back, holding scrolls in his feet. He dropped them on top of a reading table, flew back upstairs, and came back with more. Twilight Sparkle unwrapped one of the scrolls and scanned its contents, her eyes focused on every letter that had been written.

Into the night, the pony shade and the lavender unicorn studied intently. While both were very different from each other in many ways, they both shared one, similar thought:

Tomorrow was going to be a very important day.

Road to Ponyville

The clock seemed to tick very slowly in the quiet bedroom. Mort risked one glance—confirming it was almost time for the sunrise—before returning his focus towards the spell book in front of him. He read the instructions for the illusion spell over and over again, mentally going over each step. The Candy Mountain game board was laid out next to the bed, its cards scattered on both sides, filled with descriptions that were both saccharine and lurid. He briefly looked over the top of the book, seeing Luna looking at him with eyes that were patient, eager and drowsy.

The two of them had been going over multiple spells nearly all night, trying to find a spell that would not only suit their purposes, but also one he could perform. In between lessons, they would try to relax by playing the board game, and also review some etiquette he might not have experienced much while being the Pale Pony.

There was also the matter of what kind of pony he should present himself as. Alicorns were extremely rare, and because of that they drew far more attention than any other creature. It just wasn't plausible for Mort to be an alicorn that no one ever heard of. If anything, it would draw far more attention to him then he needed. Ultimately, it was a choice between being able to fly, or being able to use magic. Mort chose magic; he didn't really fly all that much anyway.

Speaking of magic, the illusion spells hadn't been going well. The two of them had gone into this believing that it would be a relatively simple matter. Luna was, after all, very familiar with the nature of illusion spells, and Mort was capable of dissecting just about anything he saw, including magic itself. They both could know everything about a spell, so surely it wouldn't be that hard to pull off?

Unfortunately, what Mort found was that magic was just as much an art as it was a science. Everypony could envision a masterful painting, a catchy tune, or an enchanting story, but being able to replicate it was an entirely different matter. Magic was the same way: you could know what the spell would do, and even the steps required to get there, but to actually make that happen would require considerable practice, skill, and magical prowess.

Mort had plenty of magical prowess, but had no practice, and not much more skill. Granted, a pony could argue his scythe was an advanced magic, but he had been created from the ground up to perform it. That magic just came naturally to him. And now that he thought about it, even the simple telekinesis he performed took him a few years to master...

“Okay...” At his voice, Luna perked up, watching intently. He turned to look at the mirror, so to keep an eye on his progress. Keeping his nervousness in check, he concentrated, feeling the magical energy form inside him. He tempered that magic, forging it into a spell that, if properly cast, was supposed to project an image onto his skull. That image, if all went well, would be that of a normal pony face. There would be no messy rearrangement of molecules this time.

With the spell formed, he began to carefully control the flow and amount of magic released into his horn. Too little and the spell would fizzle out, too much and the magical energy could explode. The latter had happened more than once, as Mort soon realized that the magic needed was significantly more than the telekinetic magic, but at the same time much less than what his scythe required. Finding the proper balance was arduous, and he likened it to getting an exact cup of water from a fire hose, without spilling a drop in the process.

He felt his spirits rise as the magic stabilized in his horn, and steeled himself for the trickiest part. Now that the magic had been gathered, he visualized the face he wanted: young, male adult, with a green coat, red eyes, and a white mane. He then let the magic flow out, little by little, like he was slowly putting on a delicate mask. He felt his skull tingle as the magical field began to spread across his skull, until it was completely enshrouded.

In the mirror, he could see something green and translucent covering his face. Looking closely, he felt a jolt of excitement when he saw that it was the exact image he had been thinking of the entire time. He was so close now!

He started to release a little more magic, so that the field could look more solid and lifelike. As it became more opaque and the details became more pronounced, little doubts began to invade his mind. Did it look like there was enough hair? Were the ears in the right place? Did he remember to think about the cornea? Would the teeth—

Suddenly, the image began to distort. The face shrunk and grew at various points as the eyes, ears, and even the nostrils started to change their positioning. In a panic he tries to reestablish control, but that only seemed to make things worse. And in his desperation to keep the image straight, he forgot to keep tabs on the amount of magic he was using.

There was a small bang, and Mort cried out as the magic released itself all at once, creating a small explosion that enveloped his head in a black puff of smoke.

He heard a flutter of wings, and in an instant he could sense Luna beside him. Her voice was filled with worry. “Oh heavens, Mort! Are you alright?”

“I-I think so. Did it work?” He shook his head furiously, trying to dispel the smoke clinging to him. Once it was all gone, he turned to look at the mirror, hoping for the best.

It took him a few moments to grasp what he was seeing. He was staring back at a reflection that looked like himself—meaning, to his dismay, that the spell had failed—but sprouting through his hood was a puffy, round mane that had stripes of every color running through it.

He had intended to project a face, and ended up with a rainbow-colored Afro.

“I don't believe this,” he said flatly.

“I...did not foresee this, either,” Luna added timorously. She put on a nervous smile. “Er...at least thou hast created a mane?”

As she said that, the air was filled with a hissing noise. The hairs of the Afro suddenly stood on end, and the tips were lit by a small flame. In the blink of an eye, they consumed the rest of the chromatic mane, leaving no trace of it aside from some ashes and a smell of incense.

Mort moaned miserably and collapsed to the ground, covering his face with his hooves. “It's hopeless...”

Luna bit her lip, and got down to the ground beside him. She draped a wing over him, and though there was plenty of sympathy and comfort emanating from it, it was not having the effect either of them desired. “Oh, don't say that, Mort. Let's just try again, and—”

“And watch it go up in smoke, like everything else.” Mort sighed. “I can't do this, Luna! Not in a night, anyway. Who knows how long it'll take me to do any of this? I don't think Thanasia's going to wait for that!”

“Please do not despair, dear friend. I promise we'll find something!” Luna shot to her hooves and went back to the spell book. She flipped through the pages, her eyes narrowed in concentration. “There must be a spell here that you can do, Mort. It's just a matter of finding it!”

As Luna went to work, Mort's eyes drifted across the room. He just wanted to get his mind off his latest failure. The things he saw did just that, if only briefly. There was Luna's desk, where he used to see her pouring over star charts as she planned the next night. Her closet reminded him of the times she would sometimes ask for his opinion on a certain dress (and how he always said they should be blacker). The book shelf contained stories that he would often scrutinize and criticize for the lack of plausibility. He didn't even think “suspension of disbelief” was possible at the time.

His eyes eventually settled on something that sat near the windowsill: a plump, pink dragon plush with ridiculously tiny wings.

That brought up a pleasant memory: in the weeks following Luna's return, she had gotten in the mail a number of gifts from every corner of Equestria. There were letters, pictures, jewelry, some chocolate, but the one Luna had been especially fond of was the stuffed dragon. It had come from somepony in Trottingham, who made such toys for a living. According to the note attached, it was not part of any actual line, and had been made completely from scratch. Mort wasn't sure why a pony would think “pink dragon” when thinking of Luna, but the moon princess was happy to have it, and had even teared up as she read the note that welcomed her back, and wished her good tidings for the next thousand years.

That thought of toys also reminded him of Twilight Sparkle, and how she used to carry around a small, pony doll of her own until she had gotten older. It was a silly, little thing with polka-dot pants and button eyes, but it was somehow endearing. When Celestia told him about the “Want-It-Need-It” incident, it was hard for him not to—

“Of course!”

With a gasp, Luna spun around, the book of spells falling to the ground with a loud thump. “Mort! W-what...?”

Mort was already back on his hooves, and was eagerly holding Luna's forehooves in his own. “I know what we can do, Luna! It's so obvious!” He started to bounce on his hind legs in excitement, and was taking Luna along for the ride.

Luna stuttered, trying not to bite her tongue. “W-what does t-thou mean?”

“Did Celestia ever tell you about Twilight did?” Mort finally came to a stop, leaning his face in closer. “When she had the whole town chasing after a doll because of some spell she cast on it?”

Luna looked up thoughtfully. “Yes, that does sound familiar...”

“Well, don't you see? I don't need to know how to cast the spell! You just need to cast the spell on something else! Magic might not work on me, but that doesn't mean I can't wear something magical!” He let go of her, his horn glowing as he grabbed something in the room with his magic. “Luna, I need you to enchant this!”

He whipped the object in front of him, presenting it to Luna. If he were an organic creature, no doubt he'd be breathless at this point. He looked expectantly at her, waiting for a reaction. Ideally a look of realization at his cleverness.

Luna, however, looked befuddled. “Thou wishes me to enchant my stuffed dragon?”

“Yes!” Mort nodded his head eagerly, the stuffed dragon mimicking his movements. “You see, Smarty Pants was a toy, and this is a toy, so all I'll need to do is take this with me, and no pony will be the wiser!”

Luna blinked slowly. “I see...thou see no troubles in thy plan?”

Mort groaned in frustration. “Of course not! I just need to carry this big, conspicuous, unwieldy stuffed dragon around with me everywhere I go! Easy peasy!”

“...Really?”

“Yes! Um, maybe. I-I mean with something this big I would just need to...it's not really that heavy or anything...um...” He slowed glanced at the stuffed dragon, twisting the head so that it looked at him as well. He turned to look back at Luna, feeling a phantom blush. “This, uh, probably needs a little work, actually...”

Luna stifled a giggle. “'Tis a great idea, Mort! We just need something smaller.” She trotted past him towards her dresser, opening on the drawers. Mort gave one last look at the stuffed toy he was holding, then levitated it back to the window sill.

“Aha!” Mort looked in time to see Luna trotting back towards him, a thin, metal chain hanging from her mouth. At the end of the chain was a polished, silver medallion, which bore a smooth, crescent shape pieced of (what else?) moonstone in the center. Beneath it was an image of Luna's face, with her wings outstretched and going along the circumference of the medallion, until it almost entirely encircled the moonstone.

He ooed as she slipped it around his neck. “Fancy!”

Luna smiled, looking accomplished. “Thou should consider ornamenting thyself more often. Everything goes well with black.” She looked towards the magic book from earlier, and drew it towards her, turning the pages. “Hmm, not every illusion spell can work as an enchantment, but there should be a few that...aha!”

She turned the book around, showing Mort the pages. On the left page was the name of the spell, “The Uncertain Weave,” followed presumably by a description of it, some history, and of course instructions on how to cast it. On the right page was a diagram of a pony, with a globe drawn around its head, meant to be the spell.

“This illusion spell,” Luna said, turning the book back around, “enshrouds the caster's head with a bubble that obscures their physical characteristics at a subconscious level. Passerby’s only 'see' the most general qualities without realizing it, and unconsciously fill in any gaps on their own. A 'face-in-the-crowd,' if thou will.”

Mort scratched his chin. “So, when they see me...”

“Most likely, their minds will rationalize that thou art a pony with a white coat.” She glanced back at the book, her eyes moving down the left page. A hint of concern worked its way up on her face. “It is not a perfect spell, of course, but most illusions aren't. It can only obscure details, not hide them completely. That means if they got a clear look at your skull, it's unlikely their minds would be willing to believe it to be anything but a skull. And of course if they touched your face...”

Mort nodded. “Right. Hood stays up, hooves stay off.”

“Exactly. Now lean thy head back a little. Good, now puff thy chest out...”

Mort did as she instructed, and almost felt like he wasn't just being given a piece of jewelry, but an award. Satisfied with his pose, Luna backed up a few steps, aiming her horn at him. Magic gathered at the tip, and a small beam shot out, striking the medallion. The jewelry was enveloped in a cobalt blue glow, crackling with magic, before the light faded.

Mort rushed over to the mirror, eager to see the results. When he saw his reflection, however, he found that nothing about him seemed different at all. Once again he felt that awful despair clinging at him. “Um, Luna? I'm seeing 'me' pretty clearly...”

“Well, thou know what 'thou' looks like,” she said, standing beside him. In the mirror, Mort the differences between seemed even more staggering than usual: to the left was an alicorn princess, whose mane was a cosmos and whose coat was a dark sapphire, while to the right was a skeleton in a dreary, black cloak, who on several occasions had been mistaken for a trick-or-treater. (It certainly made his job during Nightmare Night harder.) “In any case, the spell was made with ponies in mind. I'm not even sure how it would affect other creatures, much less a shade like yourself.”

“What about you?” He turned to look at her, making an effort to present his skull. “What do you see?”

She gave him a tentative look. “It does not have that affect on me either,” she admitted. “The spell blurs details, but only to ponies uncertain of your true appearance. I see thee because I know thee as well.”

That wasn't the answer he was hoping for. He felt the earlier anxiety creeping back into him, starting with his voice. “How do we even know it's working, then?”

Sheer determination flared in Luna's face. “Of course it's working! No pony or creature is better at the illusive arts than I! Even a changeling would blush at how little it knew compared to me!” Her wings flared, and Mort half expected a bolt of lightning to suddenly appear and explode something.

Mort cradled the medallion in his forehooves. The silver glinted as the first rays of the morning sun sneaked into the room. He could certainly tell it was enchanted now, feeling the buzz of magic that now enveloped it. Still, there was that lingering doubt...

“Please have some faith in me, Mort.” A hoof fell on his shoulder, and he dropped the medallion, causing it to swing around his neck. He looked to see Luna, giving him a look that was now more gentle and comforting. She smiled, and it was the sort of smile that could melt away all of life's uncertainties.

His thoughts were interrupted when a bright light caught his attention, coming from the top of the mirror. Mort looked out the window, seeing the edge of the sun as it peeked out from behind the mountains. It rose steadily, lighting up the landscape as it ascended.

“It's dawn,” Luna said, sounding slightly disappointed. “Thou should probably get going.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I mean, it wouldn't take that long for me to fly over there. We can probably finish up Candy Mountain, I could tell you about the more interesting ponies I met, uh...” He trailed off as he noticed Luna shaking her head, her midnight hair swinging back and forth.

“I'd love to, Mort, really,” she said apologetically, “but thou needest this time to practice walking. Real walking.”

“Oh...” Mort was used to walking, in the sense that he moved four legs in a locomotive fashion. He wasn't, however, used to walking while his cloak was completely physical. (When he was physical, he actually cheated a little and kept the hem of his cloak in a gaseous state.) Nor had he ever focused on making sure each hoof touched the ground with actual weight, and not just float a little above it.

“Don't worry,” she said, “we'll finish the game someday. I can keep it out until then.” She bounded up onto her bed, blinking her eyes tiredly. “I'm...” She gave a big yawn, her wings stretching out. “I'm...sure thou will be fine. Thou are a nice pony deep down. I'm sure they will see that.”

“If you say so...” He looked out one of the windows in the room. The sunlight was just now reaching a particular small town, situated almost precariously close to the Everfree forest. “Though, I'm not really a 'pony'. I mean, I can sorta look like one, sorta act like one, maybe sorta talk like one, but...I-I don't know, what if they just kinda sense something wrong? What if...”

He stopped himself, shook his head and steeled his eyes. “Y-you know what, no. No! This isn't a time to be negative. I just gotta be confident! If I can collect dozens—hundreds—of souls, on time, twenty-four-seven, I can definitely have a good time with a few ponies! I mean, a lot of them do it every day! It can't be that hard. I can do this. I can DO this! I CAN-”

His speech was interrupted by a gentle snore. Mort silenced himself immediately, and turned around. He saw Luna curled up near her pillows, fast asleep. Her crown had fallen off, rolling to her side, and half her face was covered by her mane.

“...I can do this more quietly,” he whispered. He silently moved towards the bed, his horn glowing. The royal regalia was gently removed and placed on her dresser. A few pillows were moved underneath Luna's head, and some more under her body. The alicorn snuggled against them comfortably, murmuring softly.

Mort watched her contently for a moment, then used his horn to draw the curtains across the windows, darkening the room. “Have a good day, Luna.” He hesitated for a moment, then gave a quick nuzzle to her cheek. “Sleep tight.”

He continued looking at her, absently touching the medallion with his forehoof, reminding himself that it was there. He slowly became intangible, making sure to take the necklace along with him. When he was done, he turned on his hooves and extended his bony wings.

With a flap, he shot through the curtains and windows, towards the outside, where he saw the rest of Canterlot, its roofs glimmering in the morning sun. The sight of the sun tempted him to see Celestia for perhaps a last minute pep talk, but he felt that if he didn't get going now, he might not go at all.

He did a little loop in the air, and then rocketed straight down, his form going straight through the castle, passing through brick and mortar walls, marble columns, water pipes and the very foundations of the castle itself. Soon the castle was behind him, and he was then flying through Canterlot, seeing its citizens waking from their beds as he passed through their homes, before twisting himself around to fly through the very mountain that Canterlot was built on. On an impulse, he began to corkscrew through the mountain, for no other reason than he thought it could be fun.

After traveling through almost half-a-mile of solid rock, he finally swerved himself upward as he reached the base of the mountain. A moment later he sprouted from the ground, and lowered himself onto a level, dirt road. He glanced behind himself, and saw the city of Canterlot high above, hanging over the mountain side. He had always questioned the reasoning behind such a construction, but at the same time, the sight always made him look at it in awe. And perhaps, he sometimes thought, that was reason enough.

“Okay, let's get moving...” He took his gaze away from the city, and looked down the dirt road, where some distance away lay Ponyville. He concentrated, becoming tangible again, and then went further. His cloak became completely solid, right down to the hems, and his hooves settled solidly on the ground. The feeling of “weight” was not unknown to him, but it was still something he had not gotten used to. Despite earlier practice, he still felt heavy and clunky, despite how he probably weighed a fraction of a normal pony. Still, he knew he had to fit in, and only hoped he would grow used to it.

“A wise pony,” he began sagely, “once said, 'The journey of a thousand miles, begins with a single step'.” Holding his head high, Mort put one hoof forward.

Almost immediately, it got caught in the cloak, and Mort cried out as he fell, practically burying his face in the ground. Groaning, he got back up on his hooves, and righted himself with a sigh. He shook the soil from his skull and shot a disdainful look at his clothing.

“Wise ponies must not wear cloaks,” he muttered.

***

Spike let out a battle cry. His fists flew at lightning speeds, landing hundreds of blows in the blink of an eye. Scores of diamond dogs howled and whined as they were flung into the air, the lucky ones landing in dazed heaps, the others propelled into great, wooden pillars and stone statues.

With the last diamond dog down, Spike observed his handy work: an entire regiment of diamond dogs littered the throne room, their armor battered, their weapons broken, and their spirits crushed. He dusted off his orange gi, bearing the symbol of his master's school, and looked towards his ultimate goal.

In the center of the throne room, surrounded by pillars bearing dragon carvings, sat the most beautiful unicorn in the world, her baby-blue eyes looking at him sadly behind a luxurious, violet mane, her fur as white and flawless as alabaster. She wore a kimono that was the color of sakura flowers and lotus petals, and decorated with patterns quite similar to jewels.

His heart began to pound, and he felt it would burst at any moment. “Rarity! You're safe!” He dashed towards the golden throne, weaving around the mounds of diamond dogs.

A snobbish voice rang out from behind the throne. “Not one step closer, fool!”

Spike slid to a halt, his spines bristling. “You!”

From behind the throne that Rarity sat on, another unicorn appeared, giving the dragon warrior a haughty look. He wore a kimono that was a gaudy array of bright colors, his filed horn jutting out of a golden mane that had a closer relation to cosmetics than actual hair. He levitated a fan over his face, waving it briskly.

“Blueblood!” Spike shouted, his fists clenching in anger.

“My oh my, you certainly take your time, Dragon Warrior,” he said haughtily. “For a minute there I thought you would never show up.”

Spike pointed accusingly at him. “Prepare yourself, Blueblood! Tonight you will pay for kidnapping Rarity, for hurting Master Twilight, and for hording all the gems in the kingdom!”

The stallion chuckled, an irritatingly high-pitched noise. “Oh, you misunderstand, Spike! It is not me you'll be fighting, but my apprentice!” He closed the fan dramatically, and as it snapped shut, a dark figure dropped to the ground, landing between the dragon and unicorn.

Spike's eyes narrowed. “Trixie!”

“That's The GREAT and POWERFUL Trixie to you, lizard!” the unicorn snarled. She was wrapped in a lavender, star-spangled ninja outfit, her silver mane tied back in a ponytail.

Blueblood laughed again. “Oh, you've finally met your match now, Spike. Trix-I'm sorry, The Great and Powerful Trixie, has studied every martial art known to pony! She can counter any move you make! Even you don't stand a chance against her!”

Spike crossed his arms, a cocky grin on his face. “Oh, is that a fact?”

“Do not doubt my skills, gecko!” Trixie performed a series of kicks and punches, smiling self-assuredly at the dragon. “This fight will be over before you can throw even a single punch!”

Not bothering to wait for a response, the boastful unicorn leapt into the air, did a somersault, and somehow managed to rocket downwards, one leg extended. “Take this! Trixie's Flying Crescent Ki-”

Her next words were drowned out as a blinding, burst of flame erupted from Spike's mouth, enveloping the unicorn. When the fire died, Trixie was still in midair, her uniform crumbling to ash before she herself fell to the ground in a sizzled heap. Up near the throne, Rarity squealed in delight as Blueblood gaped in horror.

Spike strode forward, wetting his fingers to put out a little flame on Trixie's tail. “Well, looks like you were right! I didn't throw a single punch! Guess they should've taught you how to counter dragon fire.” He dusted his hands, then looked at Blueblood.

Blueblood shrieked, the fan in his hooves snapping in two. “W-wait! Let's be reasonable here! S-sure I kidnapped your lover, hurt your master, stole your gems, shut down the doughnut shops just to spite you—”

Spike gasped. “You did that?!”

The unicorn clopped his mouth shut, his eyes wide in fear.

“Oh, that is it! I was thinkin' of going easy on you, just because you're so, so pathetic, but shutting down Pony Joe?! That's just too much!” Spike tightened the belt on his gi, rolled back invisible sleeves and cracked his knuckles, focusing his eyes on Blueblood's quickly draining face. He raised one, tiny fist, its scales beginning to glow in what could only be a holy light. “Take this! My love, my anger, and all of my HUNGER!”

The dragon shot forward like a cannon ball, his fist aimed at the shrieking unicorn's face, closer and closer until–

“Spike!”

Spike's eyes shot open, the dream quickly fading. No longer was he in the fortress of the nefarious Blueblood, but inside the Ponyville library. It was morning, if the low sunlight was any indication. And Twilight was looking down at him with a pair of agitated eyes. It didn't take long for the dragon to figure out why.

He pulled his fingers out of her nose, and wrung his hands together, smiling sheepishly. “Um, sorry. I was trying to save Rarity.”

“By picking my nose?” she asked flatly.

“What? Ew, no!” He jumped to his feet, teetering as the last of his drowsiness left him. “I was totally doing a, uh...Draco Meteor Barrage! Hee YAH!” He punched at an invisible opponent, and then raised his leg to land a kick, only to quickly lose his balance. After some futile hops, he rolled backwards head over tail, stopping at the librarian's hoofs. He smiled at her, face flushed. “Uh, it's still a move in progress.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Fine, just go wash your hands, and help me get everything put away before Mort gets here.”

“Mort?” Spike looked at her blankly. His eyes then caught something behind her, and he gaped at the sight of a table, overflowing with scrolls that had been unwrapped. “Holy guacamole! Are these all the friendship reports you've done?”

Twilight nodded, her horn levitating the scrolls one by one as they were rolled up. “Yep, I've been studying them ever since we got that letter from the princ—Spike, your hands!”

“Oh, right...” He pulled his hands away from the scrolls, and walked to the sink, hopping on the stool in front of it. Washing his hands, Spike began to recall the events of last night. He could only clearly remember being woken up by a late night letter, after which things became a blur. He had curled up to sleep just as the first words of the letter were being said.

He hopped off the stool and went back to the table. “So, uh, run by me again what's happening?”

“Luna has a special assignment for me,” Twilight Sparkle said distractedly, as she dropped the scrolls into Spike’s arms, almost causing him to fall over. “She's sending a pony here so I can teach him all about friendship.”

“Wow, you must be pretty excited!” He began to gather the scrolls up in his arms, making sure to roll them up.

“Uh, right, excited. Of course I am!” She laughed, at a pitch much higher than usual. “After all, it's a special assignment from the princess! What could be more exciting than that?!”

“Uh huh...” Spike walked towards the stairs, struggling with his balance as he looked suspiciously at her.

Twilight Sparkle continued, pacing in one spot as her voice grew more frantic, the words almost tripping over themselves: “And what could be more special than an assignment about a mystery pony—if he's even a pony—I know nothing about! Like who he is, or what he does, or what he likes, but that's okay because there's nothing more exciting than diving into a test you know nothing about! I can do this no problem! No problem! No...!”

Spike cried out as all the scrolls were suddenly torn from his grip, causing him to unceremoniously trip and roll down the stairs, landing in a heap. He rubbed his aching spines, and glared at the unicorn as all the scrolls were once again unraveled across the table. It was then he truly began to note the sorry state of the ground floor: books had been pulled out and piled up in front of every bookshelf, piles of notes laid everywhere, and a trashcan was overflowing with crumpled pieces of paper. A lavender cyclone had gone through the place.

“Uh, Twilight...?” As the dragon moved towards the table, he also began to notice things about his caretaker. Things like her disheveled hair, her unkempt fur, and the baggy eyes that were scanning over the reports. “Have you slept at all?” he asked, timidly.

“Oh gosh, I did!” she distressed, floating several scrolls in front of her all at once. “What if I forgot everything I read last night?! Maybe I should read them all one more time, no, two mores times, no! Maybe if I rewrite all of them it'll help me remember—”

“Twilight!” The librarian looked at her assistant, and Spike took that moment to jump up, grab her by the ears, and pull her head down until her eyes were level with his. The shock of the sudden movement caused every floating scroll to drop the floor. “Breath,” he commanded.

She blinked in surprise, inhaled deeply, then breathed out. Spike gagged, waving away the odoriferous air. “Ew, morning breath!”

“Sorry...” Twilight Sparkle sighed, and slumped on her hindquarters, look dejectedly at the ground.

Spike scratched his arm, feeling uncomfortable. An unhappy Twilight never meant good things. “Oh, uh, it's not that bad, I'm sure a quick brush can clear it right up.”

“That's not it, Spike.” Twilight Sparkle looked back up at him, her eyes tired and communicating a deep anxiety. It was enough to make the dragon a little fearful, and he unconsciously reached for his own tail, squeezing it.

“Twilight...?” He walked over and plopped down beside her. “Seriously, what's gotten into you? I mean, I know you always get a little frantic when princesses are involved, but...you looked really scared this time.”

She looked at him guiltily. “Oh, I'm so sorry Spike. I didn't mean to worry you or anything, it's just...”

“It's just...?”

She sighed again, and got up, levitating the scrolls that had rolled out across the floor. “I don't really know. I mean, the way she just had to send a letter last night, the fact she hasn't told us anything about this pony...I feel like she's trying to test me, and the more I think about it, the more worried I get.”

Spike half-shrugged, “What's there to worry about, you just gotta help the guy make some friends. What's the big deal?”

“The big deal? Spike, how often to the princesses personally send a pony out to someplace?”

“Um, I don't know.” Spike shrugged. He honestly never paid all that much attention to what Celestia did when it didn't involve the two of them. “But Celestia sent you out here, didn't she?”

“Well, I don't meant to toot my own horn—”

“I thought you could only use magic with your horn?” The words had flowed out before he could stop them, and even he thought the glare it earned him was completely justified. “Uh, sorry. Smart-alack reflex. You were saying?”

“My point is that I was a student of Celestia, and I was overseeing one of the biggest celebrations of the year! The princesses just don't send anypony. There has to be something different about them! Unique! Special! And—oh gosh.” A look of fear enveloped her. Her eyes became wide, making it even more obvious how bloodshot they were. “This is Luna we're talking about, Spike! She's so old fashioned, who knows what kind of punishment she'd give me if things went wrong? I could be put in stocks and chains in the center of Ponyville! Or Canterlot! There'd be barrels of rotten fruits and vegetables with my name all over them! What will my friends think when they see my face in the paper?! What will my parents think?!”

Spike bit his lip. Twilight was getting dangerously close to freaking out again. It seemed that no matter how often it happened, and how often she saw how it only made things worse, Twilight never really got around to actually controlling it. And if there was even a drop of truth in anything she had said, than losing her head would definitely turn the day into a nightmare.

“Oh, Twilight.” He put the scrolls on a nearby shelf, and scampered over, enveloping a leg in a tight hug and peeked an eye up at her. “Let's try to put some things in perspective, okay? First, who figured out that Nightmare Moon would be coming back, and how to stop her?”

Twilight blinked at him, confused at the change in subject. “Spike, what does that have to—”

“Just answer the question, Twilight,” he said, allowing some seriousness into his voice. “Trust me on this.”

“Well, I did,” she answered, her voice dialing back a few octaves from what it had been. “I don't see what—”

“And who helped get Winter Wrap Up done right on schedule?”

“I...guess I did,” she said, her face softening bit by bit as she relaxed. “A little,” she quickly added.

Spike grinned. “Alright, and who was able to reverse all the weird mind-control that Discord did?”

She smiled, her eyes wavering. “Couldn't have done it without you.”

“And who saw through Chrysalis when no one else could?”

Twilight blushed. “Really, Spike, you can stop—”

“And who,” he said passionately, pointing a single digit at her, “is friends with the five, most awesome ponies in Ponyville?”

A chortle escaped from Twilight's mouth. No longer did the unicorn looked to be on the verge of having a panic attack: she was now just a very tired, but also relieved, little pony. “They are pretty awesome, aren't they?”

“Darn tootin'! You're brave, bright and have made some of the best friends ever! If any pony in this world's going to help this guy make friends, it's going to be you!” He gently ribbed her with an elbow. “Seriously, I shouldn't have to tell a brainiac like you!”

Twilight Sparkle sniffed, and suddenly scooped the baby dragon up in a hug. “Oh, you're the best, Spike! What would I do without you?”

He smiled cheekily at her. “Clean up the library?”

She snorted, which broke into a small, melodious laugh. “You're so awful!” She put the dragon down and got back on her hooves. “And so right! So what if I don't know anything about him? I didn't know anything about Applejack or Pinkie Pie or everyone else, and that didn't stop us! This is going to be a piece of cake!” She struck a daring pose, holding her head up high, looking ready to take on the entire world. “I am ready for anything!”

And no sooner had she said that, than there came a sudden knock from the door.

“Oh my gosh! He's here!” In an instant, the brave unicorn from before transformed into a terrified filly. Twilight Sparkle rushed towards the door, then towards the stairs, then towards the door. “What do I do what do I do what do I do?!”

Spike watched her pace back and forth, gaping in disbelief at his pep talk crumbling in record time. There came three more knocks on the door, none of which the panicking unicorn seemed to hear. Spike merely crossed his arms impatiently as Twilight practically danced from one end of the room to the other, torn from indecision.

After a third set of knocks, he face-palmed, groaning in annoyance. “Ugh, I'll get it!”

Twilight Sparkle stopped dead in her tracks, and looked at him with wide, fearful eyes. “What?! Wait! The library's a mess, I'm a mess, if you open that door then—”

Spike ignored her. Sometimes the best thing to do was just get it over with, and damn the consequences. He grabbed the knob, and swung the door open. “Hey there! How's it going...Applejack?”

The apple farmer stood in the doorway, bowing her head politely. “Mornin' Spike. Mind if Ah come in?”

“Huh? Oh, sure!” Spike stood back, and the orange earth pony strode in, taking in the state of the bottom floor.

Twilight Sparkle, her face turning red, smiled uncomfortably. “Oh, uh, good morning Applejack! I was just...uh...” She glanced around the room, too embarrassed and ashamed to continue.

Applejack tsked. “Welp, looks like Ah was right. Awright, everypony, get on in here!”

“My goodness, Twilight!” Spike's heart nearly jumped out of his throat as Rarity trotted in, looking at the room with a mixture of shock and disapproval. “Just look at this place! I'm glad we came when we did!” Her eyes landed on Twilight Sparkle, and the fashionista recoiled. “And you look absolutely dreadful, dear! Did you get any sleep last night?”

“W-wait,” the librarian stuttered, “why are you and Applejack—”

“Don't forget me! I'm here too!” Pinkie Pie bounded in right behind Rarity, and giggled as she looked around. “Wow, Twilight, did you have a party while we were away? What's with all the books?”

“Er, well, I was thinking that Mort could be from anywhere, so I was trying to study up on different cultures, customs, languages...wait.” Twilight Sparkle stopped and looked at her friends questioningly. “Why are all of you here right now?”

“Well, not quite all of us,” Rarity said. “We're still waiting for Fluttershy to come back with Rainbow Dash!”

“I'm here!” Spike had to duck as Fluttershy flew in, pulling something behind her. For a moment Spike thought it was a giant marshmallow with rainbow filling. Then he rubbed his eyes and realized it was actually a small cloud, with Rainbow Dash lounging on top of it, asleep.

Fluttershy gently landed on the floor, and spat Rainbow Dash's tail out. “I'm sorry, I keep trying to wake her up, but nothing's working!” She tried to shake the sleeping pegasus awake, and on a good day, it may have rattled a tea cup.

“Don' worry none, Fluttershy. Let me show you how we get them lazy bones up on the farm!” Applejack walked up to the sleeping pegasus, and turned her back towards her. “Rise 'n shine, sleepy head!” She bucked out with one leg, and the cloud burst on contact, sending the cyan pegasus to the floor with a yelp.

“Ow, hey! What's the big idea?!” The pegasus groggily got up to her hooves, and took one look around at her friends and the library. Recognition dawned on her face. “Oh, right! Uh, morning Twilight. Guess I slept in.”

“Um, morning,” the unicorn replied, a little perplexed. “Now, can somepony tell me what's going on?”

“Well isn't it obvious?” Rarity asked, cheerfully. “We're here to help you out today!”

Applejack nodded affirmatively. “Yep! We saw how nervous ya were last night, and we all know how wound up you can get...”

“So we decided to come here before Mort, and help you out anyway we can!” Pinkie Pie poked one of the book stacks, and the literary tower toppled to the ground, sending notes everywhere. One paper landed on top of her head, and she blew it off. “And I think you need all the help you can get!”

Twilight Sparkle blushed again. “Um, sorry about all that last night. I didn't know Luna would be sending him over on such short notice and, well...”

“Don't worry about it!” Rainbow Dash leaped into the air, and in one swoop, scooped up several books in her hooves. She flew up to a bookshelf and began to slide them back in. Applejack and Pinkie Pie began to do the same, putting books away and gathering up the papers on the ground.

Spike hopped onto Twilight’s back, and leaned towards her ear. “See?” he whispered. “Awesome friends.” The librarian nodded, and it looked to the dragon her spirits were finally returning.

“Thank you, everyone,” she said, graciously. “You don't know how much this means to me.”

“Compliments later my dear, you look in dire need of a bath.” Rarity walked forward and began to usher the other unicorn towards the bathroom. “Fluttershy, be a dear and help me, won't you? We've got less than a hour to make Twilight here presentable.” She then took a moment to look at Spike, fluttering her eyelids at him. “Also, Spike, would you be so kind as to help the others clean up? I would oh, so appreciate it.”

His heart began to pound in his chest, his body tingling all over. “W-whatever you say, Rarity...” He dropped off Twilight Sparkle's back, and watched the three of them ascend the stairs towards the second floor. His thoughts were on the divine way Rarity looked at him, fluttering those gorgeous eyes and...

A hoof poked him on the back, shaking him from his daydreams. He looked to see Applejack looking at him with a sly smile. “Come on, Romeo. We got work to do.”

With a blush, Spike walked towards the sink to find the cleaning supplies.

***

Mort half-walked, half-stumbled towards Ponyville, muttering under his breath. It had been nearly an hour since he started, and actual walking hadn't gotten much easier. It wasn't just his cloak giving him problems, there still came the issue of balancing himself, and moving the hooves in a way that actually moved him forward and kept him upright. He even had to “cheat” occasionally, gliding a mile at a time, just so he wouldn't spend all day on the road.

He thought it so silly that simply moving a few limbs could be so perplexingly hard. “Stupid walking,” he muttered. “Whatever happened to floating? Why couldn't the ponies just float? It's a lot easier than this. You're not tripping over yourself, or your cloak, or rocks, or holes, or badgers, or—”

“Howdy, stranger,” a deep voice said.

“Oh, hi. Anyway, yeah, walking is completely overrated, I should just...” Mort slowly went silent as the previous few seconds replayed in his mind. He risked a glance to his left, and saw a tall and muscular earth stallion pulling a wagon, filled to the brim with apples as red as the pony's coat. The pony smiled at him in a friendly manner.

Mort yelped in fright and snapped his head away, looking straight ahead. “Y-y-you can see me?” He felt silly for even asking it.

The earth pony gave a chuckle that brimmed with good-nature. “Well, you ain't exactly inconspicuous with that get-up of yers.” The earth pony slowed to a stop, and raised a hoof in greeting. “Anyways, th' name's Big McIntosh, though you can call me Big Mac if ya like.”

“Oh, uh...” Mort kept his head down, trying to avoid the pony's gaze. “Uh, n-nice to meet you.” He cautiously extended his own hoof in greeting.

“Same 'ere!” The stallion hooked one hoof around his own, and Mort sensed the powerful muscles underneath the skin. He braced himself for a tug that might dislocate his leg completely, but to his surprise, watched as the powerful pony gave him a gentle and controlled shake.

He spent so much time watching it, he didn't realize that Big Mac was staring at him until he looked up. The large stallion squinted at him, as if struggling to see something. Mort trembled, rapidly losing all faith in the enchanted medallion he had.

In a small voice, he asked, “I-is something wrong?” It couldn't end like this, could it? Being found out before he even put one hoof in Ponyville?

“Uh...” The larger pony blinked as if in a daze, and shook his head. “Nnnope. Ya just look a little pale, is all.”

“Pale? You think I'm...uh...” It took Mort a moment to realize the earth pony hadn't seen through him. He felt a small surge of relief and excitement. Luna had been right after all! “I-I mean, yeah! Yeah, uh, the sun and me don't have the best of relationships. I'd be in the shade and still get sunburned!”

“Yeah, o' course.” Big Mac scratched the back of his head, embarrassed. “Mighty sorry 'bout starin' and everything like that. Just plain rude o' me. Granny taught us all better than that.”

Mort shrugged, just glad the first pony he met today would be this polite. “Oh, well, don't worry about it! I guess I do look kinda unusual...”

“Nah, don' matter. Manners are manners.” Big Mac shrugged off the harness, and walked over to the back of the wagon. He bit one of the apples at the stem, and brought it over to Mort. “'Ere!” Mort looked at the apple, then at Big Mac, confused. “'Ake it!” the earth pony said.

“Huh? Oh!” Mort's horn glowed, and the apple floated away from Big Mac and over to Mort. “Uh, wow! Thanks a lot!”

“That there's on the house, to make up for earlier,” he said, with a respectful bow. “Aside from that, you look like you could stand to gain a couple pounds. Yer practically skin 'n bones, no offense.”

Mort resisted a quip about how he didn't even have that, and looked at the apple. It was large, gleamed in the sun, and still held a little spark of life from the tree it was plucked from. It was the very definition of fresh. “It's a very nice looking apple.”

“Eyup,” Big Mac drawled, “'course it's even tastier than it looks. Go on ahead, give it a bite!”

“Oh, uh...” Mort stared at the apple, suddenly realizing that of all the things Luna taught him, she never spoke a word about eating.

“Somethin' wrong?” Bic Mac asked doubtfully. “I mean, I could give ya a couple more, or—”

“Oh, no!” Mort shook his head, now suddenly worried he'd hurt the other pony's feelings. “It's great! I just need to, uh...” Not wanting to insult the first pony he met today, Mort tossed the apple into the air, lifted his head, and swallowed the fruit whole. He felt it drop through his body until it came to a rest somewhere inside his rib cage. Eating didn't feel like that, did it?

“Hmm, delicious!” he said enthusiastically, rubbing where he thought the stomach should be. “I mean, those are definitely some tasty apples! Yum! Nice and, uh...crunchy.” He looked at Big Mac, and noticed with some trepidation that the earth pony was gawking at him, the stalk in his mouth almost falling out. “Uh...it was good?”

Big Mac closed his mouth, still looking a little shocked. “Uh, Ah'm glad to hear it. You haven't happened to eat anythin' today?”

“Well, no,” he replied, feeling sheepish all of a sudden.

“Well, yer gonna need more than an apple to fill that appetite! Promise me you'll treat yerself to some food soon.”

“Um...I promise?”

“Good!” Big Mac moved back to the front of the wagon, shouldering the harness again. “How 'bout you walk wit' me 'til we get to the fork. What's yer name?”

“Oh, uh, Mort,” he said. “My name's Mort.”

“Well Mort, how 'bout ya tell me about yerself?”

“Oh...um, well...” Mort shifted his gaze away, thinking of how to respond. “Well...I have a job.”

Big Mac chuckled. “Well, that's good. What do ya do?”

“Oh, uh, you know, odd jobs and the like.” His mind raced on how to build on that. He had gone over cover stories with Luna last night, but was now finding it hard to remember what they had decided on. “I pretty much have to be anywhere at anytime. It's kinda important.”

Big Mac whistled. “Sounds rough.”

“You have no idea,” he said, with an exhausted sigh. “Somedays I find myself having to go to one end of Equestria and be back at the other end before nightfall.”

Big Mac whistled in awe. “How does one, little pony manage that?”

“Oh, well, I just fl...uh...” His mind race, realizing what he had also said. “W-walk. Yeah, I walk.”

“Walk?” he asked, with a hint of skepticism. “From one end of Eqeustria to the other?”

He gulped. “O-okay, I guess it's more of a 'sprint' then anything. I can run pretty fast, you know.”

“That a fact?” Big Mac said, sounding unconvinced, and at the same time eying Mort's awkward attempts at walking.

“Uh, yep! In fact, once I really get going, my hooves hardly even touch the ground!” He chuckled nervously, double checking to make sure his hooves were firmly hitting the road even as he said that.

Big Mac cocked his eye at him before breaking into another smile. “That's pretty dang fast, Mort. You a courier or somethin'?”

“A courier? Uh...” He wracked his mind, remembering what couriers did. They went around and delivered things. That was close enough to what he actually did, right? “Yeah! A courier! Heh, you got it on the first try!”

“Nice,” Big Mac said, grinning. “What do I win?”

“What do you...? Uh, I don't, I didn't...” Mort felt a panic beginning to rise in him. He didn't have anything besides the apple. Maybe he could offer that back? No, that'd be silly. What could he...

Big Mac chuckled. “Now don' worry, Mort, Ah'm only pullin' yer leg.”

“Huh?” Mort peeked at his legs, all of which were clearly not being tugged. “Which one? And why would you?”

Big Mac guffawed this time, patting Mort firmly on the back. “You're a real kidder. Sure you ain't a comedian?”

“Uh, no, courier,” he reaffirmed, wondering why Big Mac would doubt him all of a sudden. “Yes, definitely a courier. I run and deliver things all across Equestria. No question about it!”

“If ya say so,” Big Mac said, in good spirits. “Sounds like an interestin' line of work.” His eyes caught the necklace around Mort's neck. “Wow, you must get paid a lot to get something like that.”

Mort magically lifted the medallion, presenting it. “You mean this? Nah, this was a gift from a good friend,” he said. “I don't get paid at all, actually.”

Big Mac came to a sudden stop, and Mort almost tripped over himself doing the same thing. The large stallion stared at Mort, mouth agape. “Hold up. You get sent all across Equestria an' ya don't even get paid?”

Mort's body tensed, knowing he had just slipped up. “I-it's fine! Really! Uh, I don't really need the money.”

“But how do you get the essentials?” Big Mac asked, sounding incredulous. “Ya know, like food, or even a home?”

“Oh, I don't ea...” Instead of finishing, Mort pretended to go in a coughing fit, catching himself before he could let anything else slip. “I-I mean, I don't have a...um, home home, so to speak. I live on the road.”

“Huh.” Big Mac looked at him, and Mort could sense the emotional vibes coming from the large stallion. They vibrated somewhere between a simmering anger and indignation.

“I-it's not that bad, really,” Mort said, trying to ease Big Mac. “My...uh, 'boss' provides for me. She gives me, uh, food and stuff when I need it. Y-you know, after a good job and everything...”

To Mort's discomfort, this didn't seem to make Big Mac feel any better. “Are you sayin' yer some kinda servant?”

“Um...” Mort thought about his relation to Thanasia, and his duty to Equestria as a whole. Technically speaking he was subservient to the alicorn, and there were such things as 'public servants' who did things for the public good. Reaping their souls when they expired seemed to fit that as well as anything else. “I guess I am.”

Big Mac looked at him a moment longer, before letting out a long sign, which carried with it a fair amount of pity. “Dang,” the large pony said, “even in this day an' age.”

Mort fidgeted uncomfortably, feeling as if he should defend it somehow. “It's not bad or anything,” he said, and was disappointed in how weak it sounded.

“You sure about that?” Big Mac asked suddenly, glancing at him. “How much does yer boss work ya?”

“Um, well, a lot,” he admitted. “I mean, we can't really help it or anything...”

“But you can't like it, can you?”

Mort was ready to say that he actually did, until he remembered why he was doing this in the first place. “I...used to,” he said.

Big Mac nodded understandably. “But now you feel like yer gettin' sick an' tired of it, right?”

“Yeah...” Mort held his head low, beginning to feel miserable. “I mean, it's what I was meant to do, but lately I feel like I...kinda don't want to do it anymore.” He sighed miserably. “Does that sound bad?”

“Not really,” Big Mac said, with a shrug. “Normal, actually.”

Mort snapped his head up, now very confused. “Huh?”

“Well, that's just how it is with everythin', now isn't it?” Big Mac asked him. “Take me and mah family, for instance. We harvest apples all year long. We sell 'em, bake 'em, squeeze 'em, an' o' course we like eatin' them. Matter o' fact, we love eatin' 'em.”

Mort didn't need his sensory abilities to know this was going somewhere. “But...?”

“But,” Big Mac continued, “we don' eat apples all the time. We balance it out with corn, hay, some wheat and oats, that sort o' thing. Because fact is when ya eat only one thing, you'd get plum tired of it, even if ya love it more than anything. Same goes with jobs an' the like...if ya don' take a break from it every once in a while, ya might come to dislikin' it somethin' fierce.” Big Mac grinned suddenly. “'Course if ya like it enough, then sooner or later you'll want to get back to it more than anythin'! Ah appreciate my time off, but near the end of it Ah'm always eager to get back to some good ol' apple bucking.”

Mort found himself nodding in understanding. He had been reaping ponies for thousands of years, and the whole sentience thing probably contributed to how dissatisfied he felt after doing it for so long. With that understanding, however, also came some relief: if these “breaks” were enough for Big Mac, then it might really be the thing he needed too. He wasn't doubting Celestia that much, but hearing this from Big Mac gave him renewed confidence.

“From the sounds of it,” Big Mac said, “your 'boss' must work you an awful lot. If you really like what you do, I'd say you get out of there and find yerself a pony who appreciates ya.”

“Oh, I'm sure she appreciates me...in her own way,” Mort muttered sullenly. The comment had hit harder than he thought. It was extremely rare to hear a compliment from Thanasia, and all too often it seemed she only sought him out when she felt there was something wrong. It wasn't exactly encouraging.

Big Mac nodded soberly. “Well, then at the least try to make some time fer yerself, so ya don't burn out. Ya got a vacation in the future, at least?”

“Well, funny you should ask,” Mort said. “I'm actually on one right now, you could say.”

A smile returned to Big Mac's face. “Well, that's good to hear! Ya got pals in Ponyville?”

“Well...no,” Mort said lamely, “but I'm hoping to make some.”

“Couldn't have come to a better place, then,” Big Mac said, smiling proudly. “We're probably the most hospitable ponies in Equestria. You'll find a pal in no time.”

“I hope so.” The further they walked, the more Mort noticed the apple trees that surrounded them, their ripened fruit hanging over the road. It wasn't long before the road split, and off in the distance on the right road, Mort could make out a barn house and white, picket fences.

“Welp, this is where I get off,” Big Mac said, steering towards the barn house.

“Oh, okay,” Mort said, a little disappointed. He was really beginning to enjoy being with him. “Well, I'm sure you're really busy, what with all the...apples.”

“Well, once I get these all put away, I got the afternoon off.” The earth pony turned to look at him, giving a warm smile. “In fact, mah sis is bringin' her friends over later to show a new friend around town or something. Maybe you could come over? Y'know, have some fun, get some meat on them bones...”

“S-swing by?” the shade asked, taken aback. “Y-you mean, like...you're inviting me over?”

“Sure! We always cook plenty. Ain't no problem at all.”

“Oh, uh, wow! I-I mean, thanks! Really!” Mort almost couldn't believe what he was hearing. He hadn't known this pony for half-an-hour, and he was already being invited over to his home. “I'll definitely consider coming over some time! I-I mean I kinda got things to do and everything, but—”

“Now, now, don' fret none. You just come on over when ya can. No worries.” Big Mac turned back to walk towards the barn, waving back at him. “Try not to work too hard 'ere on out, okay?”

“Y-yeah, definitely! Thank you!” he said, waving furiously at him. “Good luck with all those apples! I'll try to buy a few next time!” Mort kept waving at him, and finally stopped himself when he realized Big Mac wasn't looking back anymore. The little bit of embarrassment he felt had no effect on his mood, though.

He proceeded down the road, a skip in his step. There was no longer any uncertainty in his movements, his hooves moving as if he had walked like this his entire life. Everything had gone so much better than he thought it would. Big Mac hadn't suspected a thing, and Mort didn't feel all that uncomfortable around him when they were talking with each other. He had even been given a little gift! If the rest of them were even half as friendly...

Another impulse came to him, and instead of just walking, he began to prance up and down in excitement, wondering how the day could get better. As far as he was concerned, he was on top of the world.

“What are you doing?”

“I don't know!” he said, barely able to contain the glee in his voice. “And honestly, I don't care! I don't think anything could ruin thiAUUGH!”

Mort went face first into the ground for the second time that day. Peeking from underneath his hood, he saw Thanasia standing over him with a leveled stare, her wings folded. He couldn't imagine how he had missed her in the first place.

He scrambled to his hooves, the simple joy he had felt, fleeing in an instant. “T-Thanasia! S-sir, I-I mean Ma'am!” he said, struggling for a moment to find his balance. “W-w-what are you doing here?!”

Thanasia arched an eyebrow. “I was just leaving Baltimare to the next appointment. It's only normal I should pass through here.”

“O-oh, of course,” he said, steadying his voice. He quickly looked up and down and the road, hoping that no pony was watching. “Um, h-how's it going? The job, I mean?”

There was the slightest twitch in one of her eyes. “It's...progressing,” she said after a moment. “I'll admit some of these ponies were not quite what I expected...”

“Heh, they never are!” He peered down at his legs, noticing a couple knots. He shook one foreleg, trying to get it out.

Thanasia walked up to him. Her forehoof came up, catching the medallion that hung around his neck. Mort froze, and watched as the alicorn scrutinized the piece of metal. Her horn glowed briefly, no doubt detecting the enchantment on it.

He felt his insides swirl as her eyes narrowed. Her voice took a hard edge. “Is this how they're planning to hide you?”

Mort gulped. “W-well they couldn't cast magic on me normally, a-and I couldn't really cast any spellls myself...”

“So they gave you this instead.” She gave the medallion one more disapproving look before letting it slide off her hoof. Mort caught it, and gently let it hang from his neck again.

“It's working great, though,” he said hastily. “Big Mac didn't suspect a thing!”

Thanasia blinked in confusion. “Big Mac?”

“Oh yeah, you saw him, didn't you? Big red stallion down the road?” He finally succeeded in getting the knot out, and planted all fours hooves on the ground. “He even invited me to his home later today! That's great, isn't it?”

“I...suppose,” she said reluctantly. “Of course, you would have to make sure this item doesn't get broken, lost, or stolen until then.”

“I'll be extra careful with it,” he said, readjusting the necklace. “Promise.”

“Then there's the spell itself,” she said. “I can see how it works. Should your hood ever come off...”

“It won't,” he said, and grasped the edge of the hood, tugging it so tight that it covered everything except his eyes. “See? Not going anywhere! And Luna gave me some tips on how to act around others! I even got note cards!”

He levitated a stack of note cards from his cloak, showing it to her. The alicorn, however, did not appear to be convinced. Feeling a demonstration was in order, he took the top most card and read from it.

“Hello, Insert Pony’s Name. My name is Mort. It is a pleasure to make thy...uh...” He quickly took out a quill, scratched out the archaic word and replaced it. “Hello, Insert Pony’s Name. My name is Mort. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I hope thou art in...um...heh, heh...” He took out the quill again, rewriting. “G-guess I forgot to update some of the words, huh?”

Thanasia pressed her lips together, crossing the thin line between “unconvinced” and “doubtful.” “My shade, I am having serious reservations about this course of action.”

He put the cards and quill away, sighing. “Listen, to be completely honest, I'm not a hundred percent certain this will work, either...”

Thanasia's ears perked up. “So you'll—”

“But Celestia and Luna seem pretty sure that this'll help me,” he added. “And if things work out, I might have a lot of fun, too! So why not?”

“Why not? Why not?” Mort eeped, taking a step back as Thanasia took a step forward, leveling her head with Mort's. Her hard tone had suddenly gained a sharp edge. “Have you even given thought about what would happen if they discovered you? If things did not work out?”

Mort gulped, unprepared for the sudden forwardness. “W-well, it's not like they could hurt me or anything...”

“Not in the traditional sense, at any rate.” She opened her mouth to say mort, but stopped when her horn began to glow. She glanced up at it, directing the horn towards the east, which produced a disgruntled noise from her.

“I need to go. My next appointment is in Stalliongrad, and there's a pony who's about to drink his last shot.” She started to walk away, her wings spreading as she prepared to take off. Just when it looked like she was going to launch herself, she instead stopped and turned to look at Mort once more.

“My shade,” she said, “are you absolutely certain you want to go through with this?”

“If Celestia thinks it'll work out, then sure,” he said, surprising himself with an unwavering voice. “I mean, I trust her more than anyone else.”

Thanasia remained silent, her mouth tightening, as her eyes bore into him. Mort fidgeted uncomfortably, afraid of what she'd say next. She had a habit of becoming like this whenever he mentioned Celestia. It was depressing, but lately he's been feeling something else as well, though he couldn't put his hoof on what it was exactly. All he knew was that it got a little stronger each time.

The alicorn finally looked away. “If you truly believe this is the only way, Mort, I won't stop you.” Her voice had finally returned to the calm monotone she usually used. “However, for your sake, be leery of the path you tread. I will see you again soon.” She took off, vanishing almost immediately as she left the physical plane.

He sat there for a few moments, momentarily unsure of what to do. The meeting had gone far better than he thought it would, though having Thanasia doubt the plan did dishearten him a bit. She was an ancient alicorn, after all. Older than even Celestia. She had to know something. Then again, he didn't think she knew about ponies the way Celestia did. He had faith in Celestia, but it would've been nice hearing something supportive from Thanasia. A simple “Good luck” would have sufficed.

He finally got back on his hooves, and continued to walk towards Ponyville, tripping on his robes.

******

When Twilight had come out of the bathroom, the disaster area that was her bottom floor had been restored to its former pristine state. The books were shelved, the papers gathered and thrown out when appropriate, and the wooden surfaces had a shine to them from some prodigious polishing. Some of the books were in the wrong spots, but she wasn't going to nitpick.

She was also feeling much better. Her mane and coat had been combed expertly by Rarity, and Fluttershy had given her a small massage, using techniques she had picked up from the Lotus sisters. All the tension she had felt before had melted away, replaced with renewed vigor.

It also helped that her friends had decided to stay with her until Mort arrived. Pinkie Pie had brought over a tray of pastries after they finished cleaning, and they spent the rest of their time snacking, and strategizing on what to do.

“So, 'ere's what we figured, sugar cube,” Applejack started, swallowing a cupcake. “This Mort feller don' have many friends, right? He's been strung up with these 'duties' an' the like, whatever they are. So Luna's sendin' 'im here to help 'im get out more an' make some friends.”

“Remind of you of anypony?” Rarity asked, with a knowing grin.

Twilight Sparkle merely nodded, already seeing what they were getting at. It wasn't all that different from how she started out.

Applejack grinned herself. “Well now, way Ah see it, if we just show this pony 'round town, the same way we did you, he'll be learnin' 'bout friendship lickity split.”

“It's going to be so much fun!” Pinkie Pie gushed. “Rarity's going to dress him up, Rainbow Dash is going to show off her killer moves, Applejack will take him to the farm, Fluttershy is going to show him all her cute, cuddly animal friends and at the end of the day, I throw him a PARTY!” She threw her forelegs in the air, so hard that she lost her balance and fell back with a giggle.

Twilight Sparkle was both impressed and grateful that her friends had thought things out so much. She had been so caught up in preparing for who Mort was, she didn't even think about what they would do.

“Maybe...maybe I could show him around the library,” she offered, clopping her hooves together. “He might be an avid reader! Or have a scholarly side to him!”

“Oh yeah, books,” Spike said sarcastically, with a roll of his eyes. “That'll be an ice breaker.” Twilight gave him a pointed look.

“Well, you never know,” Fluttershy said, quietly. “I mean, if his job's dangerous, maybe some quiet time would be nice.”

“Maybe,” the librarian mused. “Actually, maybe I could ask him what he does in the first place. That way we could—”

“HEADS UP!”

The ponies in the room instinctively ducked as Rainbow Dash flew in from the window, circling once before landing on the ground. Her hair was in disarray from the wind (though, really, it was always in disarray) and she was panting fast.

“Just saw somepony walkin' towards Ponyville!” she said, breathlessly. “Should be here in ten, fifteen minutes top!”

“Is it Mort?” Rarity asked. “What did he look like? What kind of pony was he? Is he a pony?” She paused thoughtfully for a moment. “Was he handsome?”

“Uh, not sure on any of those,” Rainbow Dash replied, giving the unicorn a perplexed look. “Guy was wearing this black cloak all over him. I think he had a horn, but I couldn't get too close. Still, he's definitely the only pony I saw coming here!”

“A cloak?” Applejack took one look out the window, where the sun was shining down almost unimpeded. “That colt must be sweatin' up a storm by now!”

“We'll ask him about his clothes later,” Twilight Sparkle said, getting up from the floor. “Places, everypony! We're going to give Mort a day he won't forget!”

******

Mort wasn't as familiar with Ponyville as he was with other places, and it could be argued that that was a good thing. While he visited most towns several times a week, it was rare for him to visit Ponyville more then a couple times a month. The ponies that died were mostly older ponies that had lived their entire lives in the quaint town, or ponies with a particularly bad illness. As it was, while a number of ponies grew up in Ponyville, many of them would often move away to pursue future endeavors and dreams. Ponyville was the idyllic, little town.

Well, not absolutely idyllic, he knew. It was next to the Everfree forest, which had its fair share of monsters and denizens that would be happy to make a snack out of a pony. In spite of that, the number of deaths because of the Everfree was shockingly low, and though the town has had a close call or two, he hadn't reaped a victim of pony-on-pony violence for a few years now. If only all the towns in Equestria were like this...

As he came into the town limits, he pulled out the stack of note cards, once again trying to memorize all of them, as well as fixing some of the words so that they sounded more modern. There was a time, he suddenly realized, that he spoke like this as well, and looking back on it he couldn't fathom how.

“Let's see, I change 'thee' to 'you', and 'thy' to 'mine' and...no, wait, maybe that's 'your'? I think so, and 'yon' is...did Luna make more of these when I wasn't watching?” He groaned, scratching his head in frustration. “Okay, I'm starting to see why Celestia stopped talking like—”

He came to a sudden stop, and swung his head up with a jolt, feeling his horn cut through something. He stared at a picture of an open book, a fresh cut carved into one of the pages. He glanced beyond it, seeing a large tree that had a door, windows and even a couple balconies, with a beehive buzzing away in a tree branch.

“Library.” Mort gulped. He put away the quill and shuffled his note stack appropriately. He'd put them away before he went inside, but a last minute review shouldn't hurt.

“Okay, let's see,” he started, looking at them. “Step one, be tangible.” He glanced at a hoof, stomping on the ground. “Check. Step two, knock three times.” He looked at the door, with its candle engraving, and after a moment’s hesitation, knocked on the door three times.

From behind the door, a voice rang out, “Come in!”

Mort felt a shiver of apprehension. That was definitely Twilight Sparkle. “Uh, okay. Check.” A reached for the medallion around his neck, reassuring himself it was still there and brimming with magic. A glow enveloped the door knob as he prepared to enter. “It's only Twilight Sparkle,” he told himself. “She's only Celestia's most precious student, Luna's savior, an Equestrian hero and all-around nice pony. It'll be okay.”

He took one deep breath. “Don't choke, don't choke, don't choke, don't...!”

He opened the door.

***

“Come in!” Twilight Sparkle stood tall in the center of her friends. They had all lined up on the bottom floor, looking at the door expectantly. Applejack, Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy on her left, Rarity and Pinkie Pie on her right. Spike stood in front of her, straightening his head fins.

“Everypony ready?” Applejack asked.

“You bet!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed, pounding her hooves together.

“Let operation Mort's Best Day Ever commence!” Pinkie Pie giggled, hopping up and down.

“Shh, here he comes!” Fluttershy pointed at the doorknob, which was starting to turn.

“Okay, girls,” Rarity started, “on the count of three, 'Welcome to Ponyville!' One, two, three...!”

The door opened.

Twilight Sparkle opened her mouth to shout the greeting, but her voice died when her eyes fell on the doorway. For a moment it looked like a void had taken up the entrance, sucking in all the light around it. Then she realized it was a cloak, and quite possibly the blackest cloak she had ever laid eyes on.

The pony's face could be seen under the hood, though Twilight had to squint her eyes to see a thin, pale face with eyes that were either a dark pink or a light red. Virtually every, other characteristic about the pony was hidden, save the unusually long horn that poked out from the top of his hood.

It was one thing for Rainbow Dash to describe him. But with the pony here, directly in front of them, blocking the only exit (and she had no idea why she suddenly thought of it as an “exit”), the room suddenly felt very small and cold.

Twilight Sparkle heard a squeak, and she glanced to her left to see Fluttershy edging away from the mystery pony, and behind Applejack. The apple farmer was nervously scratching at the ground, and Rainbow Dash's wings were outstretched in a vaguely intimidating fashion. On her right, Rarity seemed perturbed, and even Pinkie Pie was staring wide eyed at the cloaked pony.

Twilight Sparkle gulped audibly, a pervasive feeling of dread creeping into her. “H-hello?”

The cloaked pony regarded them, frozen in the doorway. Moments passed, seconds stretching into minutes. He began to walk towards them, and it was than she saw the silver necklace that hung around his neck, its chains jingling in an ominous fashion. Twilight Sparkle felt her heart beginning to beat faster, as the cold from before began to claw its way throughout the rest of her body.

He stopped, only a few feet away from them. There came an almost ghastly, green glow from the cloaked unicorn's horn, and she found her body tensing up, just as it did when she’d first seen a manticore or a hydra. A shivering Spike hugged her leg, staring wide eyed at the cloaked pony.

Something enveloped in that green glow appeared within the depths of the pony's hood, and it slowly floated out of the darkness to stop in front of the pony's head.

The cloaked unicorn positioned the note cards in front of him, studying their contents. He held one up, his eyes scanning over it.

“Uh,” he started, “s-step one, become tang...no, wait. Step two, knock...n-no, uh...” He flipped through the note cards, shooting a brief glance in her direction. He chuckled nervously, bringing to mind the scrawny, meek students that she saw all the time at Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns.

The cold fear she had felt before vanished as quickly as it came. What had taken its place was almost mind-boggling confusion, and also a little relief. She looked at her friends and Spike, seeing similar, befuddled looks.

“O-oh, here we go.” The cloaked pony settled on one card, cleared his throat, and began to speak in a mechanical tone: “Hello, Insert Po—I-I mean, Twilight Sparkle. My name is Mort. It is a pleasure to—”

It was at this point that Mort took another step forward, got caught up in the long robes covering him, and fell. His face hit the floor with so much solidity that it made her flinch, and she almost didn't notice the cards had scattered all over the place.

“Gah! Oh no, oh no!” His horn glowed, grabbing each note card, and bringing them down to him one at a time. “Uh, 'I am intrigued by your...' no, that's not it. 'I hope we can be...' no, I was saving that for the end! 'Would thou like...' no, no, no! Why the heck didn't I number these things...?!”

Twilight Sparkle bit her lip, her eyes catching Spike, who seemed to be struggling to not break into laughter. The rest of her friends were sharing awkward looks. Even Fluttershy had stepped out to get a better look, losing all the earlier caution.

“Okay, this goes here, no, wait, yes! No! Uh, maybe...” Mort's horn glowed brighter, and the cards suddenly stopped dead in space, magic cracking over each piece of paper. They instantly reformed into a stack, one that Mort proceeded to read through. Quickly.

“Hello Twilight Sparkle it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance I hope you are in good spirits I am intrigued by your accomplishments and I wish to learn all I can from you and I hope we can be the BESTOFFRIENDS!” Before the last word (or words) could even leave his mouth, the cards exploded, victims of a telekentic grip that was certainly intended for moving boulders than holding cards. Mort looked at the torn remains in horror, his (unusually dark) mouth gaping open.

He looked speechlessly at Twilight Sparkle. Twilight Sparkle looked back, just as speechless. Her friends said nothing either, choosing to stare. It was Spike who said what they may have all been thinking:

“This is going to be a long day, isn't it?”

Introductions and a Makeover

It wasn't a great start.

When Mort had walked into the library, he had prepared himself to be face-to-face with Twilight Sparkle, and perhaps her dragon assistant as well. He had gone through the note cards over and over, planning to recite them from memory, because he was fairly certain ponies didn't read note cards when introducing themselves. It was just him, introducing himself to her, alone, in private, to serve the extra benefit as practice for the others. Because surely somepony who was once socially awkward herself could understand if he had a little trouble with it.

But when he opened the door and found himself face-to-face with all of the unicorn's friends, his mind went completely blank. It didn't help that the looks he garnered were those of confusion, suspicion, agitation and, worst of all, fear. He knew his presence always had a disquieting effect on other ponies, and figured it might be stronger if he were tangible, but he didn't know he'd get so many, strong reactions from just standing there.

So he walked in and started reading from the cards, because, unusual or not, it seemed better then just standing there. And when he did that, they stopped looking at him as if he were some ominous, foreboding creature, and more like he was just weird. For some reason, that made him feel even worse.

And then, because he wanted to look a little more dynamic in his introduction (something he had actually picked up from Celestia, who in her speeches liked to gesture with her hooves and wings, and flourish her mane), he tried to step towards them.

As the fall proved, that was a mistake.

One rushed, almost incomprehensible introduction later, Mort was now looking at the six ponies and one dragon from the floor, the note cards reduced to shreds. The emotional atmosphere now consisted of pity, embarrassment, and perplexity. He really wanted to just fade into the ground, pop up outside the library, and get away as fast as he could.

Spike broke the silence. He didn't try very hard to be quiet. “This is going to be a long day, isn't it?” The exasperation in his tone said everything about what the dragon thought.

“Spike!” Twilight Sparkle scolded, causing the dragon to roll his eyes. The unicorn ignored it and walked over to Mort, offering an apologetic smile. He was a little relieved to see she was looking more receptive than when he first arrived. That was something, at least. “I'm sorry about that, Spike's a good dragon, he just has a tendency to run his mouth a little.” She offered a helping hoof, and said, “Welcome to Ponyville, Mort. I'm Twilight Sparkle. It's very nice to meet you!”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” He took her hoof and got back up. For a moment he felt an inquisitive, curious spirit, but also saw the hair standing up on Twilight's foreleg. He pulled his hoof away as soon as he was back up, not wanting a repeat of the last few minutes. “I'm Mort, and it's nice to meet you, too.” He paused a moment. “W-wait, I already introduced myself, didn't I? Uh, it's just nice to meet you, then.”

Twilight Sparkle giggled. “There's no reason to be nervous, Mort. We're all friends here.”

“R-really?” Well, that had been awfully quick. He could have sworn it took more than a greeting to be friends with somepony. Admittedly, that was just based on his experiences with Celestia and Luna. Big Mac might not have been exaggerating after all.

Twilight Sparkle's smile grew even wider. “Sure we are! Right, girls?” There was a cacophony of agreement from the others. It sounded unusually quick and loud to him. “Yep,” Twilight Sparkled enthused, her smile going even wider, “we're just about the friendliest ponies in Ponyville. You wouldn't believe how much we know about being friends.

“Let me introduce you to everypony,” she said, leading him over to where the others were. “First we have—”

“HI!” Mort gave a startled jump as the pink pony with a frizzy mane suddenly sprung forward, her large eyes plastered on him. “It's great to finally meet you, Mort! I'm Pinkie Pie, by the way! It's not everyday a new pony comes to Ponyville! Well actually we're always getting new ponies but most of them aren't sent by Luna, maybe because she's only been back a couple years, but we did have Celestia send Twilight out here but that was a really, really long time a—HEY! That's a funny cloak you got! Did you get it from Zecora? She's a zebra that lives in the Everfree forest and at first we thought she was kinda creepy but then we got covered in Poison Joke and...”

Pinkie Pie bounced in circles around Mort, her words soon fading into obscurity as he tried to follow her movements. Though there wasn't any contact, he could still feel the bountiful and bubbly energy that seemed to emanate from each bounce she made, energy that swelled with joy. And he swore at one point he saw her move to his right, only to come bounding out of his left. It felt like the only way to watch her was to keep an eye at every corner of the room, and even then it may not have been a guarantee.

He was even more confused when he tried to follow her words again. “...so I put red dye in his shampoo bottle because he used to have a red mane, but then I remembered we're covered in hair so duh, of course he'd use it on his coat too, so when he came out he looked like a hairy tomato, and I didn't know if my dad was really, really mad, or if it was just the dye, so I was really scared until he started laughing really hard and–eep!” Pinky Pie squeaked as Applejack suddenly pulled on her tail in mid-bounce, and grounded her. The pink pony gave the orange mare a curious, but still quite cheerful, look.

“Now jus' calm down fer a sec, sugarcube,” Applejack said. “Ah think the fella needs a little time to digest all that.”

“W-wait,” Mort said, recalling Pinkie Pie's speech. “I lost track, what did the zebra have to do with the shampoo...?”

“Oh, uh, that's just Pinkie being Pinkie,” Twilight Sparkle said with a forced, nervous laugh. “You just, uh, never know what she's going to do next! Anyway! Next we have—”

“Let me handle this, Twilight,” the cyan pegasus said coolly, strutting forward. She whipped her rainbow mane back, and shot him a cocky look. “The name's Rainbow Dash, fastest flier in Equestria!” She stuck a hoof out in greeting, holding her head in pride. “I'm sure you've heard all about me.”

“Oh, y-yeah, I definitely remember you!” he said excitedly, shaking her hoof, and feeling a proud, almost electric pulse laced with intense commitment. “You're the one who pulled off the Sonic Rainboom, weren't you? That was just really, really awesome!” It really was: the explosion of colors, the way the air rippled outward, and the magical energy that burst out from her had been one the most awe-inspiring feats he had ever witnessed, especially in light of how difficult it was to pull off.

Like Twilight Sparkle, he could see her smile crack ever so slightly from his touch, but the compliment smoothed it over completely. “Oh yeah, I know. I'm just awesome in general.”

Mort could barely contain himself, as he recalled the events out loud. “It was just...I-I don't know, so exciting! When you broke through the barrier and just zoomed all the way down to catch Rarity and the Wonderbolts, I was just...wow,” he breathed.

Even glory-hungry ponies have a limit. Rainbow Dash blushed, looking embarrassed. “Yeah, well, y'know, no biggie.”

“Sounds like you know quite a bit about it,” Twilight Sparkled commented.

“Of course!” Mort said. “I was there!”

“You...huh? Really?” Rainbow Dash raised a confused eyebrow. “How? Where were you?”

“Oh, I...uh...” Mort went silent, realizing that it wouldn't be best to tell her he was actually on the ground, right below them, on the significant chance that she wouldn't have pulled up in time and instead plowed them all into the dirt, with results akin to a train hitting a watermelon. “Uh...I was...in a shop. R-reading an article about it...”

“But...you said you were 'there',” Rainbow Dash said slowly, air-quoting with the tips of her wings.

“Oh, uh, well, I...uh...” He mentally berated himself for running his mouth again, and wracked his mind for an answer that was at least half-way believable. “I just...uh, imagined it!”

The answer earned a queer look from Rainbow Dash, who tilted her head to one side. Similar looks were shared between the others in the room.

“Y-you know,” he continued, “in my mind. With...imagination...?”

Rainbow Dash continued to stare at him, before snickering to herself. “Well, Mort, imagination's nice, but it's got nothin' on reality!” In an instant the pegasus was already in the air, shooting him a daring look. “When I show my moves off later, I'm gonna move so fast your head will spin!” She suddenly dived past him, and the force of it sent him spinning around in circles. He tried to steady himself, but only succeeded in getting his bony hooves tangled with his cloak again, ready to topple over.

“Oh!” Mort felt a pony get right beside him, keeping him from tipping over completely. In that moment he felt a spirit that was refined and elegant, with heavy doses of generosity, and more than a little obsessive compulsiveness. He glanced to his left to see that Rarity had stopped his fall. “Honestly, Rainbow Dash! Use your inside flying.” Her horn glowed, and Mort felt himself lifted up as a magical force went to work on the cloak, untangling it from his hooves and even straightening it out for him.

“There we go!” she said, depositing him gracefully on the ground. “Is that better, dear?”

“Um, o-oh, yeah, thank you very much,” he said, tentatively swinging one hoof around. “You're very good at, uh, untangling things.”

“You're very welcome, Mort, and thank you. I get a lot of practice from untangling my sister from my fabrics.” She flipped her mane to one side while fluttering her eyes, a small smile on her face. “And might I say it is a pleasure to meet you!”

“Y-you too,” he said, finding it unusually difficult to look away. Mort found himself feeling strange, though not unpleasant, feelings. He was fairly sure that this was the first time anypony had ever looked at him like this...

There was a polite cough, and Twilight Sparkle came in between them. “Uh, so, yeah! Mort, this is Rarity. She runs a boutique in Ponyville, and makes some really amazing dresses.”

“Oh, but my talents go far beyond dresses!” Rarity giggled excitedly. “In fact, I've just put the finishing touches on a special outfit this morning, and I'm sure you would look absolutely dashing in it!”

“I...uh...um...uh...” Mort gulped, feeling his insides twisting into knots. He finally managed to look away from Rarity's half-closed eyes, and as a result made eye contact with Spike. The baby dragon was crossing his arms, shooting the shade a dirty look. If he were capable of sweating, he was sure Twilight Sparkle would need a mop to clean it.

“Wow, that's so generous of you, Rarity.” Twilight Sparkle suddenly slid up close to him, nudging his shoulder. “A whole new outfit, just for you, Mort! Isn't that great?”

“Y-yeah,” he murmured quietly, still feeling the heated look from the baby dragon. “That's, uh, great...”

“Glad to hear it! Now, next I want you to meet...Fluttershy?”

Mort was looking at Applejack, who looked back with a sheepish grin. The earth pony side-stepped out of the way, revealing the yellow pegasus that had been hiding behind her. Fluttershy squeaked in surprise as her cover left her, and she shrunk back, most of her face hiding behind the pink mane that seemed to flow across it.

“Hel...hel...hello,” the pegasus whispered, more silent than a gentle breeze.

“Hi...” he said, just as quietly.

The two of them stood their silently. Mort awkwardly scratched at the floor, as Fluttershy seemed to take interest in many, nonexistent things in the room, always managing to keep most of her face hidden. Mort felt the strangest compulsion to dash forward and squeeze her, half-expecting an adorable squeak to be emitted.

In fact, as he looked at her pink mane and yellow coat, and his eyes wandered over to the butterflies that decorated Fluttershy's flank, distant memories came to the forefront. “You haven't fallen off any clouds recently, have you?”

“Huh?”

“O-oh, nothing,” he said quickly, mentally berating himself. He lifted his forehoof, not really expecting the pegasus to return the gesture. She looked between him and the hoof before her, and timidly reached out to shake it. In that brief moment he felt something incredibly gentle, but at the same time fragile. Like butterflies. “So, Fluttershy,” he said, retrieving his forehoof, “um...what do you do?”

“Oh, uh, I watch over the animals at my cottage,” she said, her voice barely audible. “I feed them, clean them, make sure they get along with each other...”

“Oh, animals...” Mort thought back to a tip Luna had given him: talk about the other pony's interests. “That...must be a lot of work?”

“Sometimes,” the pegasus said, a little louder, “but it's all worth it. They're really friendly and I love to take care of them.”

“Uh huh.” Thinking back to the night before, he asked, “So, what do you think about...rabbits?”

“Rabbits?” In an instant the pegasus seemed to perk up, a gleam in her eye. “Oh, they're wonderful! They're small, fluffy, and oh, so cute!”

“Really?” He gave a silent thanks to the rabbit shade. “So, like, they're your favorite?”

“Oh, I could never pick a favorite,” she said, with a shake of her long mane. “I like them all for lots of different reasons, though...I do have a special rabbit friend named Angel. Actually, later today I'm hoping to, well...introduce you to him and all the others.”

“Oh, um, sounds fun.” Mort didn't have much experience in animals, or at least not the ones Fluttershy would care for. The animals he was most familiar with typically had a taste for pony flesh, and he was pretty certain they would not be considered cute or friendly in most circles. Still, seeing the occasional pony cuddle their pet did make him curious about what it'd be like...

There was a relived breath from Twilight Sparkle. “Well, I'm glad you think so, Mort. Now over here we have—”

“Howdy there, Mort! Name's Applejack!” Mort looked to his right just in time to find the orange, earth pony shaking his other hoof with both of hers. Mort jittered on the spot, feeling a suspiciously similar spirit to the one Big Mac had, if more down-to-earth and a little motherly.

But before he could dwell on it further, the earth pony had let him go, shivering a little herself. “Hoo wee, Mort, yer feelin' awful cold! Wouldn't think so with that getup of yers. You feelin' alright, sugarcube?”

“Huh? O-oh, of course! I'm just not too...uh, warm blooded, I guess.” His eyes traveled along her side, spotting the trio of apples decorating her flank. That, her accent and what he felt from her made him wonder of a possible connection. “Uh, Applejack, you wouldn't happen to work on an apple farm or something nearby, would you?”

“Well shewt, how'd ya guess?” the orange pony asked with playful sarcasm, tipping her hat back. “Bet you probably saw it on the way over 'ere. Hope all them apples got yer stomach rumblin', 'cause we're gonna be diggin' into them later today.”

“Funny you should mention that, because...” But before he could continue, his eyes caught a green fin that was near the edge of his vision. He glanced down, and saw the baby dragon looking at him inquisitively while rubbing his chin. It was certainly a step up from the looks he got earlier. “Um...c-can I help you?”

“Hmm...” Spike peered at him with one eye, a frown forming on his face. Mort could see his spines bristling just slightly. “You look kinda...weird.”

“W-w-weird?” he stuttered, followed by a nervous laugh. His mind flashed back to when Luna told him the spell would work well enough on ponies, but had never said anything about how it would look to anything else. A feeling of panic tore at him. “I-I-I don't know what you mean!”

“Neither do I!” Twilight was at Spike's side in an instant, flinging him up by his tail onto her back. “Uh, this is Spike. He's my number one assistant!” She shot a stink eye at him. “Though his manners could use a little work.”

“Oh come on! I'm just saying—”

“Is a certain dragon volunteering to stay at the library today?” she asked him tensely.

“No,” he grumbled sourly, crossing his arms.

“Good.” She looked back at Mort, and in an instant the smile from before was back. “So, that's everypony, Mort! As you can see we got a really big day planned out for you!”

“Uh, yeah, no kidding. So, what are you...” Before he could finish, Twilight Sparkle was already tugging at his cloak and leading him towards the door. He felt a jolt of despair. “Huh? W-where are we going? I didn't say something wrong, did it?”

“Oh, no! Nothing!” Twilight Sparkled assured quickly. “You were fine, the girls and I just need a little time to, y'know, powder our noses?”

He didn't know, actually. “Why would you need to powder your noses?”

“Ha ha, oh Mort, you're hilarious.” The door opened and Mort found himself walking onto the doorstep. “Give us just a few minutes, and then we'll be taking you around Ponyville before you know it!”

“Well, if you say—”

The door slammed, drowning out the rest of his sentence. He looked at the door, fidgeting where he stood. He could hear Twilight Sparkle's voice inside, clearly discussing something with the others. He wondered if it concerned him. He had an urge to stick just enough of himself inside to listen in, but ignored it. It would just be rude.

At the very least, it had ended better than it started. Embarrassing himself like he did might have even alleviated whatever anxieties they were having when he appeared. It'd explain why Big Mac hadn't acted like that: the big pony had probably seen him grumbling and tripping over his own legs before he had spoken to him. The idea of being foolish to dispel whatever ill feelings other ponies had didn't excite him too much, but it would be better than having them all scared of him.

But then there was Spike. The illusion spell was definitely not working on the dragon as well as the other ponies. He’d have to avoid giving Spike a view of his face as much as possible. Dragons were extremely protective, often aggressively so, and he didn't want to be on the receiving end of his fire or claws. He had seen what they did to other ponies, and while he doubted that it would do actual harm to him, the others would probably wonder why he would be unscathed.

Sighing, he began to lay down, before spotting the obvious gash he had made in the library sign. He felt a twinge of panic, imagining that Twilight would think that he had vandalized her library and home.

His horn glowed, a green aura surrounding the hole. “Don't panic, you cut things all the time,” he assured himself. “Putting them back together is just...the opposite, right? This should be—”

The sign cracked as the hole became a little smaller, at the expense of the wood surrounding it, splitting apart as it was pulled in to seal the hole. The gash from before disappeared, only to be replaced by two larger cracks around the area it had been.

A feeling of dread washed over him. “Oh no.”

****

As soon as the door closed, Twilight Sparkle breathed a sigh of relief, and trotted back to the group. “Okay,” she said, with a determined smirk, “Stage 1: Introductions, is now complete! Good job, everypony!” There was a small cheer from her friends. “A little rough around the edges, but I think we definitely got the message across.”

She walked up to Pinkie Pie. “Very friendly as always, Pinkie, but tone it down just a little bit. We don't want the poor guy feeling overwhelmed. Or confused.”

The pink pony shrugged absently. “I don't see what was so confusing about it! I was just telling him how I got my cutie mark!”

“Oh. Well, of course...” Twilight Sparkle resisted a strong urge to question that point, and instead left Pinkie Pie with a forced grin. She moved on to the next pony “Rainbow Dash, I'm glad you found yourself another fan already, but please be more careful when you're flying around him! You nearly knocked him off his hooves.”

“Hey, I'm the epitome of cool! It's what I do.” The pegasus grinned cockily, but it quickly wilted under Twilight’s stare. “Okay, okay,” she said briskly, “I'll be more careful next time. Geeze.”

“Don't take it the wrong way, Dash. I just don't want to explain any scrapes or bruises to the princess, and I take it neither do you.” The pegasus' eyes widened at the latter possibility, and nodded nervously. “Rarity, you were great, but...I'm sorry, you weren't flirting with him, were you?”

The white unicorn smiled coyly. “Well, I think 'flirting' is a little strong, Twilight. I just wanted to make the best, possible impression. Improve his self esteem, as it were. What better way than to draw the eyes of a very fair and fabulous mare?”

“So this isn't going to be another Blueblood?” Rainbow Dash teased.

Rarity sniffed. “Believe me when I say I am done fantasizing about my ideal stallion. They were swept away in a tide of buttercream frosting and apple filling.”

“Ooh, I know it was a rotten, nasty thing for that snobby prince to do, but having a cake thrown at you sounds like so much fun!” Pinkie Pie licked her lips at the idea. “Winner's whoever can catch the most with their mouth!”

“Focus, girls,” Twilight Sparkle interjected. “Rarity, I understand what you're going for, but...well, be careful. The guy doesn't get out much. You might intimidate him.”

“Me? Intimidating? Oh, perish the thought, Twilight,” Rarity dismissed with a wave of her hoof.

Twilight Sparkle didn't feel Blueblood or the diamond dogs would agree. She moved on to Applejack. “Applejack, great job, just remember, not everypony has the strength you have.”

The farmer chuckled. “We're all 'bout strong impression's, Twi'. But Ah'll keep it in mind, feller almost felt like a twig!”

“Great, and Fluttershy...”

“Nooo!” Fluttershy covered her head with both forelegs, looking pleadingly at the shocked librarian. “Please don't scold me, Twilight! I can't take it! I'll try harder next time, really!”

Twilight Sparkle stared perplexedly at the pegasus. “Actually, Fluttershy, I thought you did really well. Granted, that was after you stopped hiding behind Applejack...” Twilight paused for a moment, thinking. “What was with that, anyway? I know you're...well, shy, but it's been a while since I've seen you like that...”

The pegasus blushed, then got back on her hooves. “Well, it's just...I don't know, Twilight, before he started talking he just seemed really...” The pegasus gulped at the recollection. “Scary.”

“Oh Fluttershy,” Twilight said gently, with a roll of her eyes. “What's so scary about him?”

“Now to be fair, Twi', Ah kinda felt somethin' too.” Applejack shrugged her shoulders. “Ah mean, Ah wouldn't say Ah was scared, but Ah did feel a wee on-edge.”

Rainbow Dash scratched her chin. “Y'know, I guess he did look a little spooky. Not that I was spooked or anything,” she added quickly.

Pinkie Pie fidgeted. “Usually I feel like hopping when I meet new ponies, but this time I felt...floppy? Ploppy...?” The pink pony shook her head, quietly murmuring words to herself.

“That dreary cloak of his didn't help,” Rarity remarked. “I can't wait to get him out of those sheets and into something much more cheerful.”

“Oh come on,” Twilight Sparkle said dismissively. “He tripped on the way in! How's that 'scary'?”

Rainbow Dash considered for a moment, then snickered. “Okay, yeah, that was kinda funny.”

“So you didn't feel anythin' like that, sugarcube?” Applejack shot her a questioning look. “You were hunky-dory the moment he got here?”

“Well...” The unicorn hesitated. She had felt something when Mort had appeared. She couldn't put a hoof on what it was, exactly. She had felt unusually anxious, and for some reason there was a feeling of utter inevitability. A disquieting powerlessness.

Then again, she was taking on an important assignment. And she was always afraid of disappointing the princesses. “It's nothing I haven't felt before,” she stated with a casual shrug.

“I told you he was weird,” a voice grumbled.

Twilight Sparkle frowned and turned to Spike. “Alright, you definitely need a scolding, mister!” She stomped her hoof for emphasis. “What were you thinking, saying something like that in front of him?!”

“I couldn't help it!” he said defensively. “I mean, just...just look at him! How many ponies have you seen that look like that?”

“What'cha mean, Spike?” Applejack asked quizzically. “Sure, the feller were a bit pale...”

“And a bit thin,” Rarity added.

“He didn't look too terribly healthy,” Fluttershy said quietly.

Spike groaned in frustration. “I'm talkin' about the eyes! How many ponies are there with red eyes?”

“Oh Spike,” Twilight Sparkled sighed, “his eyes aren't red. They're...” She stopped, and found herself unable to remember. Which was bizarre, she could've sworn she had looked at his face enough times to see it. “Um...what color were his eyes?” she asked her friends, sheepishly.

“Ooh, ooh! Pink! They were pink!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed, waving her hoof in the air like a filly in school. “Really, really pink!”

“Pink eyes? Pale...” Rarity tapped her chin in deep thought. “You girls don't suppose Mort is some sort of albino, do you?”

“I wasn't even sure there was such thing as an albino pony,” Fluttershy said. “Albinos are pretty sensitive to sunlight, though...”

Applejack nodded affirmatively. “Well, that'd explain the cloak, alright.”

Spike groaned in frustration. “It's not just the eyes! His horn's...I never saw a unicorn horn all sharp or curved like that!”

“It didn't look that weird, Spike, and sometimes horns will develop differently!” Twilight gave an exasperated sigh. “Okay, look. Spike, your opinion is duly noted, but it shouldn't even matter what a pony looks like! I could've sworn I raised you better than to judge another pony based on his appearance!”

“But Twilight, I...” The dragon moaned miserably. “He just...I don't know, he rubs me the wrong way! It's like dragon instincts or something.” He closed his palms together, and to her shock, gave her a pleading look. “Come on, Twilight. I'm not trying to be mean or anything, I just...he doesn't feel good. I know that sounds lame, but the others felt that way too, right? Doesn't that mean something?”

“It's not fair to judge a pony on gut instinct alone, Spike. It's why so many ponies avoided Zecora, and you saw how nice she turned out to be. As for me and the others...” She shrugged. “Well, I think we all had a very different idea of what he'd be like. It was just a little surprising. And just because we felt like that, doesn't make us right. Besides, he was sent here by Luna! Doesn't that mean something?”

Spike sighed, crossing his arms. “I guess,” he muttered quietly.

“Look, just give him a chance, okay?” Twilight lowered her head until she was eye-level with Spike. “You warmed up to Owlowiscious just fine, didn't you?”

“Yeah, but he's an owl,” he grumbled. “This guy's...” He searched for the words, before quitting and returning to his pout.

“Come on,” she implored, “it's just for a day. Give him a chance. For Luna? For me?”

He glanced at her, his eyes contemplative. She gave him the biggest puppy eyes she could muster, the ones she usually used when she wanted him to help with a lot of chores. The dragon struggled internally, his eyes darting to and from her eyes, sweat beading down his face, before finally sagging in defeat. “Fine,” he sighed, “but I'm keeping my eyes on him, okay?”

“So long as it's just your eyes.” She used her head to scoop him up, and he plopped down on her back. “Okay, I think we've been in here long enough. Everypony ready?” There was a chorus of agreement, and she felt it embolden her. “Alright then! First stop, Rarity's boutique!”

“Woo hoo!” Pinkie Pie cheered. “Stage 2: Makeover!”

In a moment, Twilight and her friends were outside the library, and saw Mort standing in front of the library sign, his back turned to them. “Sorry about that, Mort, you ready—”

“Ididn'tdoit!” Twilight took a step back, the cloaked pony spinning around on the spot to look at her with wide eyes. Seeing her, the pony took a few looks around, backing up against the sign. “Uh...uh, I-I mean...good. Good.”

“Yeah...good.” She took a mental note not to sneak up on Mort in the future. “So, are you ready?”

“Uh, o-oh, yeah!” He nodded his head vigorously. “Just, uh...lead the way, Twilight! And Applejack and...um, all of you, really...”

“Sure...” She took to the path, watching Mort rotate in place, looking nervously at her. Her friends followed suit, and it wasn't until Mort was alone that he decided to join them. As unusual as the behavior was, she just shrugged it off as another quirk.

It wasn't long before all of them were moving through the center of town. Shops and restaurants were opening their doors, and the citizens of Ponyville were now going about their daily routine. They were picking up groceries for their homes, dining at the nearby restaurants, or just simply hanging out with each other.

Mort by then had moved slightly ahead, so that he was in the center of their group, and he seemed to be anxiously looking around.

“Are you okay, Mort?” she asked, concerned.

“Huh? O-oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just...there's a lot more ponies here than I thought...” He gulped. “Um, a-are they all looking at me?”

Twilight glanced around. They were drawing quite a few stares, some stopping what they were doing just to look at them. Looking back at Mort, she saw him nervously glancing back and forth, trying to avoid eye contact.

“Ponyville's a small town, Mort,” she stated. “They know when they get visitors.”

“Not to mention you're in the company of practical celebrities, darling,” Rarity chimed in. “I don't mean to brag, but each of us have made headlines, one way or another. For better...or worse.” She said the last two words with an embarrassed blush.

“But mostly better!” Rainbow Dash jumped and floated in the air, doing a little twirl. “I keep telling the mayor she should just start advertising us! You know, like...” She threw her forelegs up in a grandiose fashion. “'Ponyville: Home of Rainbow Dash, Winner of the Young Fliers Competition!'”

“As Ah recall,” Applejack said candidly, “when you proposed that to the mayor, she said that if yer head got any bigger, there wouldn't be any room for the town!”

There was a chorus of giggles from the others, causing the athletic pegasus to fume. “Hey, come on, Applejack! I brought up you guys too! 'Ponyville: Home of Twilight Sparkle, Hero of Equestria!' 'Ponyville: Home of Ex-Super Model Fluttershy!' 'Ponyvile: Home of—'”

“Wait, wait,” Mort cut in, his tone one of disbelieve. “Did you say 'ex-super model Fluttershy'? Fluttershy was a model?”

Fluttershy seemed to glow red. “Um, yes, but just for a little while. I couldn't take being the center of so much attention...”

“Yeah, I...I don't usually get this sort of attention, either,” he said quietly.

“It's awful, isn't it?” she said. “You feel like you have no privacy, you can't get a moments peace...”

“And that the moment you mess up everypony's going to run you out of town and never want to be near you again,” Mort said, his voice tense.

Twilight Sparkle stopped and stared at him, as did the rest of her friends. Mort avoided their eyes, scratching at the ground. An awkward silence descended upon the group.

“Um...maybe not that bad,” Fluttershy whispered.

Pinkie Pie hopped up next to Mort, suddenly hugging him. “Aw, you don't need to be worried about a thing, Morty!”

Mort blinked. “Morty...?”

“Ponyville's one of the friendliest places in Equestria! Heck, even the meanies leave on their own!” Pinkie Pie giggled. “You would have to do something really, really, really, really bad for something like that to happen!”

“I-if you say so,” he mumbled, not sounding entirely convinced.

Twilight Sparkle's ears drooped in disbelieve. Luna had told them he hadn't gotten out much, but what he just said had been downright cynical. She briefly imagined him having a black hole from which no confidence or optimism could escape.

She changed the subject quickly. “So, Mort! You know what we do, but I've been really curious about your work...”

“Oh, yeah!” Rainbow Dash came in closer, looking at him eagerly. “Come on, spill the beans, Mort! What's the one thing you can do that no other pony can? Are you like a secret agent or something? Is it a 'I could tell you but then I’d have to kill you' thing?”

“What? Oh, no! No! I could never kill anything!” Mort shook his head furiously, sounding horrified. “That, that'd just be...brr, I get shivers just thinking about it!”

“Whoah, whoah! Calm down, Mort! It was only a joke,” Rainbow Dash reassured.

“It's just we've been mighty curious about the stuff you do,” Applejack said. “Luna made it sound all important like.”

“Oh, well, it's definitely important, I'm...uh...” Mort paused, scratching at his chin. What did Big Mac call him? “Uh...a collector? Yeah, that's it...”

“A collector?” Rarity asked, confused. “But...I don't understand, dear, couldn't any pony do that?”

“Uh, well...not the things I collect,” Mort explained, reluctantly. “It's...the stuff I collect is very, very valuable, and I have to do it all across Equestria. I can't really afford not to do it.”

Applejack whistled. “All 'cross Equestria, huh? Must be pretty excitin', though. All them different sights and sounds, and you get to see lots of different ponies and what not.”

“Every pony, really,” Mort added. “Uh...w-well, that's what it feels like sometimes, at least.”

“What sort of things do you collect?” Fluttershy asked. “Are they ancient artifacts?”

“Well, sometimes they're ancient, and sometimes they're...not,” he said, unusually solemn. “I, uh...really can't go into details about it, to be honest.”

“Yes!” Rainbow Dash pumped her forelegs in the air. “Secret agent stuff! I knew it!”

“I'm not a secret agent,” Mort said, slightly annoyed. “Really.”

“Of course not, Mort, of course not.” Rainbow Dash winked knowingly at him. “You're a 'collector'.”

Twilight Sparkle rolled her eyes, though she had to admit that Mort's reluctance to talk about it was unusual. What could a pony collect that's too secret to talk about, too important to leave to more than one pony, so demanding it would take all their time to do it, and would be something Luna would know about? A couple ideas came to mind, ones that forced her to remind herself that Luna wasn't like that. Or at the very least, she hoped not.

“Okay, I think that's all for right now,” Twilight Sparkle said. “If he can't go into details, he can't go into details.”

“Yes, more time out here is less time for him to try out that outfit I have.” Rarity clopped her hooves together, squealing in delight. “Oh Mort, I know you're going to love it! You'll be the first one to try it on!”

Mort stopped in his tracks, and stared at Rarity. “Try it on?”

“Oh, but of course! I'm sure a fine pony like you would just be dazzling in it!” Rarity fluttered her eyes at him again, moving her face close to his. Twilight heard Spike growling behind her, and was afraid he'd begin digging some very sharp claws into her back. Mort looked nervously at Twilight, and the librarian smiled reassuringly at him.

“Hey, there's nothing to worry,” she told him. “It'll just be a change of clothes.”

“R-right...” The hooded pony, sounding unconvinced, was silent the rest of the way.

The inside of Rarity's home was a cool relief compared to the heat outside. Twilight Sparkle and her friends filed inside, Mort being the last one in. They made their way towards Rarity's display room, where Mort drifted towards the center, spinning slowly in place as he took the whole room in.

“Wow,” he breathed in awe, “this place is...fancy!” He stepped towards a rack of dresses, sliding them over one by one. “You made all of these?”

Rarity beamed with pride. “Absolutely, darling! I've put my blood, sweat and tears into each one.”

“Gah!” Mort withdrew his hoof sharply, staring at Rarity with horror-lit eyes. “W-why would you do that?!”

Rarity blinked in surprise. Twilight Sparkle herself couldn't help but stare in bafflement. “Mort, it's just an expression,” the librarian explained.

“Oh...” He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head. “Uh, y-yeah, of course. Heh heh...”

“You really don't get out much, do you?” Applejack asked, with an arched eyebrow.

Before the conversation could continue, a sudden mew alerted everyone. Twilight Sparkle looked to see the groomed Opalescence walking towards Rarity, a can of food in her mouth. The cat plopped it in front of her owner, giving Rarity an almost petulant look.

Rarity gasped. “Oh, my poor baby! I almost forgot...” Her horn glowed, and the top of the can was peeled off. The cat looked at the food inside, then shot an impatient look at Rarity. Rarity grinned sheepishly, and a moment later her horn glowed again, but this time to collect items from the kitchen: a jewel encrusted food bowl, a butter knife, and some parsley. The food was cut up, dumped in the dish, and finally garnished. Only then did the cat seem satisfied, and it began to eat.

“Dang, Rarity. You sure know how to spoil them,” Rainbow Dash said, somewhat put off by the display.

“Oh come now,” Rarity said with a sniff. “She's practically my baby! I'm sure you'd do the same for Tank.” Rarity stepped aside, and motioned for Mort to come closer. “Mort, why don't you say hi to her? She's a sweetie once you get to know her!”

“I-I don't know...” Mort said, looking uncertainly at the feline.

Rarity smiled disarmingly. “Oh, don't worry! Just give her a little scratch on the head or back.”

“O-oh, but not too close to the tail,” Fluttershy suddenly said. “She, um, gets a teensy irritated if you pet there.”

Opalescence ignored the exchange, looking content enough to just focus on her food. Mort looked once more at Rarity, who only nodded encouragingly. The hooded pony moved closer to the cat, extending a hoof out.

The cat looked up from the food, hissing for a moment. Then, as if a switch were flipped, the cat's eyes suddenly shrunk to a quarter of their size, and her fur stood so far up she looked like a fuzz ball with legs. The cat jumped in the air with a screech, hanging there for a few seconds before darting off into the boutique, strands of fur trailing behind her.

“Oh no! Opal, what's wrong?” Rarity pursued her pet, leaving a speechless Mort, who still stood with his hoof outstretched.

“Um...” Mort awkwardly put his hoof back down, and looked apologetically at the others. “I'm sorry...?”

“Eh, no big deal,” Rainbow Dash said, unfazed. “That cat hardly likes anypony, anyway! Big scaredy cat.”

“Oh you hush!” Rarity huffed from a doorway, before returning her attention to her cat, calling her name.

“Guess animals aren't my thing,” Mort said, sounding dejected.

“Ah, cheer up!” Applejack said, patting him on the back. “You'll get plenty more chances later today!”

“That's what I'm afraid of,” the hooded pony muttered.

Twilight was ready to say something to hopefully lighten his mood, but by then Rarity was already walking back towards them, sighing softly. “I'm so sorry about that, dear. Opal's rather picky about other ponies, I'm afraid. But it's nothing to worry about! After all, you're here to look fabulous!”

Twilight Sparkle watched as the unicorn moved in a stately fashion towards a pair of satin curtains. “Now,” Rarity started, “feast your eyes on this!”

With a theatrical wave of her hoof, her magic parted the curtain, unveiling what was hidden behind it. Twilight Sparkle and her friends couldn't contain an awed ooh as they saw it. A ponnequin stood on a podium, wearing an ocean blue suit. Gold thread was intertwined along the hems of the sleeves and coat, in complex patterns that must have taken incredible concentration. The vent extended as far as the flank, and split down the center. Gold tassels adorned where the shoulders would be, and the coat would close using a series of diamond-studded buttons. The left lapel had a single, large ruby that was oval in shape.

It wasn't nearly as flashy as some of Rarity's other works, but it had a regal quality to it that one would normally only see in Canterlot. Twilight turned to Mort, eager to see what he thought. The cloaked pony stepped towards the suit, looking it over. He murmured to himself quietly and, to Twilight’s slight distress, she had a hard time deciphering the expression he had.

“Um...” He poked at the suit, as if expecting something to leap out. “You want me to...wear this?”

Rarity looked taken aback. “Well, yes, darling. That was the plan...”

“Oh...” Mort didn't sound very excited. Twilight could feel the comfort levels dropping at break neck speed. Fluttershy crouched onto the floor, the scene no doubt looking all too familiar.

Rarity's smile faltered. “Is there something wrong with it?” she asked, almost sounding hurt.

It was a tone Mort picked up on immediately. “O-oh no, no! Nothing's wrong! I-I mean you did a really good job weaving everything together, and these gems are...” His horn glowed briefly. “...practically free of inclusions, but it's...well...” He waved a hoof around where the ponnequin's head was. “Isn't it a tad drafty, up around here?”

Rarity blinked, taken off guard by the comment. It was probably the first time a pony had ever questioned how “drafty” an outfit was. “What? Do you mean like a hat?”

“Well, more like a hood. You know, like...” He tugged at his own hood for emphasis.

“Well of course, silly!” Pinkie Pie interjected, leaping over to him. “It's a suit! Only sweaties and raincoats have hoodies!”

A look of realization crossed Rarity's face. “Oh, I almost forgot! This is all about your condition, isn't it?”

Mort tilted his head to one side. “Huh? Condition?”

“Ooh, that's right!” Pinkie Pie said, realizing it herself. “Morty can't be in the sun too much!”

“Oh...uh, oh! Yeah! I-I don't really get along with the sun too well,” Mort suddenly said. The reaction confused Twilight. It almost sounded he had to reach the same conclusion himself.

Pinkie Pie's eyes widened. “Ooh, that reminds me! Rarity, where's your beach stuff?”

“Oh, it's down the—”

Whoosh.

“—hall.” Rarity stared at where Pinkie Pie used to be, seeing only a dust cloud that vaguely resembled her in shape. “Gracious!” She pulled a feather duster from a nearby shelf, and dissipated the unusually pink cloud. Twilight fought that all-too-common temptation to try and explain how Pinkie Pie managed something like that.

“Anyway,” Rarity said, as if nothing unusual had happened, “you don't have anything to worry about, Mort. There's absolutely zero sunlight in here, and after you show us how you look—”

Mort coughed fiercely, cutting Rarity off. “Uh, actually, couldn't I just try it on in private? Alone?”

Rarity stared at him, dumbfounded. “Alone? But dear, the point of any outfit is—”

“Please?” he pleaded.

“And I assure you, my friends and I honestly don't care how you look or—”

“Please?” he pleaded again, almost sounding desperate.

Rarity bit her lip, looking conflicted. Twilight bit her lip too, confused not just by Rarity's reluctance to Mort's request, but Mort's insistence on being alone as well.

After a moment’s consideration, Rarity reluctantly said, “Well...if that's what you really want, Mort.”

“Thanks!” Mort's horn glowed as he levitated the suit off the ponnequin, a green light that gave Twilight goosebumps. Mort nodded appreciatively at Rarity, who smiled back weakly. “So, do you have a dressing room...?”

“Of course, it's down the hall, dear.” Rarity pointed in the direction to go. Mort nodded appreciatively and trotted down the hall. Rarity watched him go, disappointment etched in her face.

“What's wrong, Rarity?” Fluttershy asked.

The alabaster unicorn sighed. “Oh, it's no big deal, Fluttershy. I just wanted to—”

Suddenly, there was a familiar yowl, and the mares had to sidestep a white streak as it zoomed past them, only to bury itself in a basket filled with balls of yarn.

Mort's voice echoed from down the hall. “Um, I think I found Opal,” he said, which was soon followed by the sound of a door closing.

Minutes passed. Fluttershy began to look at some spare dresses Rarity had hanging out, while Rainbow Dash flipped through an old Equestrian Times with a bored expression on her face. Twilight and Applejack were both watching Rarity with a bit of unease. The white unicorn was pacing in circles, shooting anxious looks at the door Mort had walked through.

“I wonder how it fits him. Is it too tight? Is the fabric comfortable? Maybe I used too many gems, or too few...” She looked at the librarian and apple farmer. “The suit was fine, wasn't it?”

Twilight sighed. “For the third time, Rarity, yes, I think it was fine.”

“I'd definitely wear it if it came in my size,” Spike added from on top of Twilight.

“Why you so worked up 'bout this, anyway?” Applejack asked.

“I can't help it!” she said, shaking her head. “This is the first outfit I've woven with a stallion in mind, and the whole dynamic is just completely different! I really wanted to make sure what I made is actually up to my standards.” She sighed. “Not only that, but did you hear what he said? He doesn't want to be seen in it!”

“He's probably just really self-conscious,” Twilight reasoned.

“About what, though?” Rarity moaned, stomping her hooves in agitation. “Oh, why doesn't he want us looking at him? What sort of stallion is hiding underneath that cloak of his? Is he a handsome pony with no confidence in himself? A gentlecolt with a disfiguring scar from some past tragedy? Maybe...maybe he's a prince who's just trying to get away from it all and...” Her eyes widened, and she facehoofed in frustration. “Oh goodness, I'm fantasizing again.”

Twilight was now seeing why Rarity had been so adamant about seeing him try the suit on, and she felt like facehoofing herself. “Really, Rarity? You just want to see what he looks like?”

“Ooh, I can't help it, Twilight! He's a mysterious pony, with a duty he won't talk about and with a face he won't let us see! It's like the beginning of some grand, romantic story, don't you think?”

“Ah dunno,” Applejack said. “Ah don't read too many of them trashy books, but Ah'd think that kind of pony wouldn't be readin' from note cards, or getting' all nervous every time somepony looks at him.”

“Trashy? Hmph!” Rarity looked away disdainfully, her eyes landing on the basket that Opalescence had retreated to. Her expression changed to one of pity, and she approached the balls of yarn that were currently shivering. “Oh, my poor baby! You shouldn't have to hide like that...”

Rarity's horn glowed, and the balls of yarn fell away as the white feline was lifted from the basket, her eyes darting around the room. The cat mewled pathetically, her hair still standing on end.

What caught Twilight's eye, however, was the necklace around the cat's neck. “Hey, isn't that...?”

Rarity brought the cat closer, as the mares all huddled around the feline. Rarity removed the necklace from the cat, dangling it in the air for everypony to see. The most obvious thing Twilight noticed was the silver medallion attached to it.

“Isn't that Mort's?” Rainbow Dash asked, poking the medallion with her hoof.

Rarity put Opalescence down gently, allowing the cat to flee towards the stairs. “Now how could Opal get this?” she wondered out loud.

“Maybe it got caught on her when she was running from Mort?” Fluttershy suggested.

Applejack raised a skeptical brow. “That'd take some funky maneuverin', don't ya think?”

“What is it, anyway?” Twilight twirled the the medallion in the air with a hoof, looking at the front of it. There was an alicorn on the front with its wings stretching along the sides, with a crescent-shaped moon stone in the center. “This seems kinda familiar...”

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I wonder what else could be associated with alicorns and the moon...”

“That's not what I meant!” Twilight retorted. “I know it's Luna, but I could've sworn I've seen this somewhere before...”

Applejack hummed thoughtfully. “Well, the feller said he's a 'collector', so maybe he got it off some auction?”

Spike had leaned forward, hungrily licking his lips. “He's got good taste in gemstones, at least.”

“Oh I agree, this is just gorgeous.” Rarity brought the necklace closer to her, her eyes admiring the piece of jewelry. “Such fine metal work, and the moonstone was cut so perfectly! I'd love to meet whoever crafted this.”

“Well, just ask Mort when he comes out,” Twilight told her. “I wonder if he even knows it's out here...”

Rarity stared at her, the unicorn's eyes widening. “You know what, Twilight? You bring up a good point.”

Twilight did not like the look Rarity was giving her. “Um, okay...?”

“Why, if I had lost something this valuable, I would want it returned right away!” she said, with a small, theatrical flare. “Especially if I wanted to see how it goes with my wardrobe...”

“Oh, no,” Applejack said, shaking her head. “Rarity, you are not thinkin' about—”

But Rarity was already trotting towards the dressing room, the necklace suspended with her magic. The rest of them gave each other shocked looks, and ran after her. She knocked on the door just as the others caught up.

“Rarity, what you doing?” Twilight hissed quietly. Rarity held a hoof to her lips, giving her a playful wink.

“Who is it?” Mort asked from behind the door.

“Oh, it's just me, darling!” Rarity said casually. “How does the suit fit?”

“Oh, it's great!” Mort replied enthusiastically. “You're a real expert!”

“You flatter me, Mort,” she said. “But don't you think you would look even better with your necklace?”

“What are you talking about? It's right...” There was a brief silence as the stallion inside trailed off. It was then broken by a panicked shout. “Oh, no! No, no, no! Where is it?! What happened to it?!” What followed was the sound of one pony making a mad dash around the room, as objects were heard being lifted, shoved, and dropped.

The reaction made Twilight and her friends share a bewildered look. Rarity in particular was cringing, no doubt worrying that her room was being torn apart. “I-it's okay, Mort!” Twilight said quickly, hoping to calm him. “We found it out here! Opal had it with her.”

“Opal? How could...wait, maybe when I...oh, I can't believe I let that happen!” He moaned miserably. “If I had lost it...”

The sound garnered sympathetic looks from most of them, with Applejack and Rainbow Dash still looking confused.

“Oh, please don't be upset, dear,” Rarity told him through the door. “The important thing is that we found it. No harm, no foul.” She opened her mouth to say more, looking between the door, the necklace, and her friends. She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Er, Mort, do you want this now, or...?”

“Yes! Right away!” Mort answered rapidly. “The sooner, the better!”

“Well, if you insist!” Rarity said cheerfully, shooting a sly grin at her friends.

Twilight gawked at her friend. Before anything else could be said about the matter, Rarity had already opened the door and marched in. She had just enough time to hear Mort's surprised squawk before she shut the door behind her.

There was a moment of silence, broken only when Rainbow Dash started giggling. “Oh man, I can't believe she did that!”

Twilight glared at her. “It's not funny, Rainbow Dash! He wanted to be alone for a reason!”

Rainbow Dash waved her hoof dismissively. “Oh, lighten up, Twilight. Sometimes you just gotta give guys like that a little push! I mean, if he's here to relax, wouldn't it be easier if he weren't so worried about his looks?”

“Well, I...I suppose it'd be better,” she admitted. “But if we're not careful, it could all backfire, too...”

“Oh, well, if anypony would be careful about something like that, it'd be Rarity,” Fluttershy said. “She knows all about self-esteem.”

Applejack reoriented her Stetson, sighing. “Guess we'll just have to wait and see...”

The four ponies (plus one dragon) waited by the door. Minutes passed with the barest of sound coming from behind the door. Rainbow Dash began to pace around the three of them, and even Applejack was tapping her hoof impatiently.

“Ugh, what's taking her?” Spike asked, irritated. “How long does it take to return a dumb necklace?”

Applejack grinned teasingly at Spike. “Maybe she wasn't that far off on the whole 'prince' thing.”

Spike hmphed, and continued to pout towards the door.

“Well, if nothing's happened, then maybe Mort didn't take it so bad after all,” Twilight said hopefully. Maybe Rarity had been on to something after all. “Do you hear anything, Fluttershy?”

Fluttershy approached the door quietly, placing an ear on it. “Um, well, I think I hear—”

Fluttershy couldn't get the next words out before the air was filled with the sound of something crashing, and then Rarity's terror-stricken scream.

Animals Don't Like Mort

Mort walked into the dressing room, Rarity's suit draped over his back. The room was larger than he thought it'd be, and just as frilly as the rest of the boutique. A light-purple wallpaper covered the walls, walls that at one end had a rack of dresses neatly hung up, and at the other end a number of pictures and paintings of mares in dresses. Sunlight streamed in from a circular window that was just high enough to be out of reach of more voyeuristic eyes.

At the far end of the room there was a long, ruby-colored dresser with white carvings, reminiscent of vines. A large, oval mirror stood in the center of the dresser, with a red boa and blue boa hanging across the top. In front of the mirror were dozens of bottles, brushes, eyeliners, lipsticks and other make-up accessories that Mort had never paid much attention to. Folded up and off to the side was a semi-transparent changing screen, that was decorated with images of various gems.

From where he was, Mort could see in the mirror a figure that was covered in an all-encompassing black cloak (that technically wasn't a cloak but a manifestation of his ethereal body) that concealed a skeletal body underneath. It was a shade that reaped the souls of dead ponies, was almost as old as ponykind itself, and had a body so alien in comparison to any other creature, one would find a closer relationship between apples and mollusks.

He had never felt more out-of-place than now.

He made his way over to the dresser, levitating the suit off his back and in front of him, unfolding it. It really was a nice suit, looking at it from top to bottom. It was just decorative enough to catch the eyes of others, but not so much it was an actual eyesore, striking a balance between evocative colors and jewelry without overdoing either. And given his eye for detail (since it came with being a shade), he was impressed by how neatly it had been sewn together, with no thread out of place, and every gem cut precisely.

As his eyes reached the bottom of the suit, he saw something barely sticking out from underneath the dresser, that was white and furry. Glancing up at the boa on the mirror, he figured that one must have slipped off at some point. He summoned his magic and grabbed the white boa, giving it a pull.

He lifted the boa into the air, and was ready to hang it up with the others when he realized it was not, in fact, a boa. Boas were typically not attached to the hindquarters of a fluffy, irate, and terrified feline.

Opalescence let out a loud yowl, causing Mort to let go of her in shock. This meant he now had a ten-pound bundle of fur and claws falling towards him. Mort instinctively dialed back on his corporeality, causing the cat to pass through him and land on the floor instead. Opalescence then dashed madly out the room, fur trailing in her wake.

“Um, I think I found Opal,” he said loudly, then shut the door with his magic before any other shenanigans could befall him.

Sighing, he levitated the suit in front of him, watching the reflection as he did so. He gave a thoughtful hum, and glanced around the room one last time to be sure that no eyes were on him. Satisfied, his cloak dissipated into a black haze, and he carefully put the suit on.

Mort looked at himself in the mirror again. The suit was now worn by a naked skeleton, hanging limply on his understandably thin body. It was almost pitiful, as if the suit itself were depressed. A solution came to him quickly enough, though. He willed some of his ether to flow across his skeletal form, an invisible current that filled out the suit until it seemed convinced it was being worn by a muscular stallion.

“Now that's more like it!” He turned to the left (“Nice.”), then to the right (“Nice!”), watching his reflection. He then turned his back to the mirror, and spun his head 180 degrees. “Very nice.”

He spun himself back around until he was facing forward again. He trotted around the room watching how he looked as he moved about, sometimes breaking into a march, or even a saunter. After a couple minutes of this, he came to a stop in front of the mirror, scratching his chin in contemplation. Staring at his reflection again, he felt that something was missing, he just couldn't put a hoof on what...

“Of course!” Thin, black ether streamed out of where his nostrils would be, twisting themselves until they created a passable imitation of a long and thin mustache. “Ahem. Good evening, miss Luna! Fine night for a spot of tea, don't you think? Wot wot!” He snickered quietly to himself. “Top of the mornin', chap! I'm afraid you shouldn't have tried to cram so many peanuts into your mouth all at once! Why, yes, I am the Pale Pony of Death! What gave it away?” He snorted, doing everything he could to remain in control, fits of laughter threatening to explode from his mouth. “What do you mean 'since when did you dress like that?' I've always been a skeleton with a snazzy outfit, a silly accent and a stylish mustaaahahahahaha!”

Mort rolled on the ground, holding his sides as the tide of mirth finally escaped in uproarious laughter. After calming down, he rolled back onto his hooves and stood back up, suppressing the occasional giggle.

“Okay,” he told himself, “I am definitely going to try that on Luna.” In fact, even as he considering the thought, he was already wondering what it'd be like to do something like this with the ponies he met. At least half of them were fearful or melancholy when they realized who he was, and it did bother him a little that some would go feeling like that. Maybe wearing something cheery or even absurd would loosen them up. And their expressions would be worth it, too.

Then again, when you keep a certain look for over a thousand years, it's hard not to get attached to it. And for all he knew, it would be the only meeting he would have. If they had to go knowing him, he'd like it if they went knowing, well, him.

His musings were interrupted by a knock at the door. “Who is it?” he asked.

“Oh, it's just me, darling!” Rarity said from the other side. “How does the suit fit?”

“Oh, it's great!” he replied enthusiastically, once again admiring himself in the mirror. “You're a real expert!”

“You flatter me, Mort,” she said. “But don't you think you would look even better with your necklace?”

“What are you talking about? It's right...” He reached up to where the necklace was, but his hoof only found air. Looking in the mirror, he realized just then that his neck was naked, with no sign of the enchanted jewelery.

He shouted in panic, looking frantically around the room. “Oh, no! No, no, no! Where is it?! What happened to it?!” He rushed around the room, magically lifting everything he came across, and pushing the heavier items. No matter where he looked, though, the necklace was no where in sight. Were it not for a lack of lungs, he may have been hyperventilating at this point.

Twilight's voice was then heard. “I-it's okay, Mort!” she said, sounding a little distressed herself. “We found it out here! Opal had it with her.”

Mort stopped what he was doing, letting the items he had been levitating fall back to where they were. “Opal? How could...wait, maybe when I...” He recalled what had happened the moment he walked in, with finding Opalescence and having to dematerialize before she fell on him. In his haste to do so, the necklace had completely slipped his mind. And given that Rarity's cat had fallen through where his collarbone would be...

“Oh, I can't believe I let that happen!” He fell on his boney haunches, moaned miserably. He hadn't even realized it was missing the entire time. He could have walked out of there without it, and even with the cloak on, there would have been no use hiding his face. “If I had lost it...”

“Oh, please don't be upset, dear,” Rarity told him through the door, sounding sympathetic. “The important thing is that we found it. No harm, no foul.”

He sighed quietly. That was true enough. The important thing was that they told him before he walked out. He had avoided, if barely, a major disaster.

“Er, Mort,” Rarity said, sounding reluctant, “do you want this now, or...?”

“Yes! Right away!” Mort answered rapidly. He obviously couldn't leave the room without it, after all. “The sooner, the better!”

“Well, if you insist!” Rarity said cheerfully.

The door knob turned, and Mort quickly realized the ramifications of what he said. Squawking in surprise, he quickly looked around, spotting the changing screen from earlier. He was just able to unfold it and move it in front of him before Rarity had walked in.

Mort stood motionlessly, just barely making out Rarity's outline through the screens. “Mort, where are you?”

“Uh, over here,” he said. “Do you have the necklace?”

“Right here, darling!” Mort saw something dangling in the air above Rarity, which jingled as it swayed. Not wanting to take any chances, he heightened his extrasensory abilities so that he could look through the screen that separated him and Rarity. Sure enough, what Rarity had was the necklace Luna gave him, untarnished and whole.

He sighed in relief. “Thank you so much, Rarity. I don't know what I would have done with it. Now, if you could just lay it on the floor and go back outside...”

“Oh, I could never put something this pretty on the ground and get it all dirty,” she said. Though she sounded scandalized, he could clearly see the mischievous grin that showed up a moment later. “It'd be better if I gave it to you, don't you think?”

Mort gulped. “Um, well, in that case, could you levitate it over the screen and let me catch it?”

“I...could do that,” she said slowly, looking slightly deflated. However, that was soon replaced by a cheeky grin. “Though I'd feel better if I could actually see you when I do. Oooh, I bet this would look wonderful with my outfit!”

Mort facehooved. He recalled just how insistent she had been about seeing him without his cloak. He had a strong suspicion at what sort of game Rarity was playing. “That's, uh, really not a good idea, Rarity.”

Rarity tilted her head to the side. Her look of confusion may or may not have been genuine. “And why not?”

“Oh, because I'm...um...” He trailed off, trying to think of something that would dissuade Rarity. What was Rarity like? She was prim, proper, liked to make dresses, had a strong fondness for jewels, and what little he had seen of her seemed to indicate she cared a lot about her appearance...

“I'm ugly!” he blurted out.

The outburst made Rarity take a bewildered step back. “E-excuse me?”

“I'm...I'm hideous,” he said, feigning revulsion. “I have...I'm...” He looked briefly at the mirror behind him, trying to think of a way to describe it. He never had the firmest grasp on what constituted as “pretty” and “ugly” among ponies. It all seemed so incidental to him most of the time. “It's...it's just too awful to describe, Rarity!” he finally said, giving a mock shiver. “I'd hate to disgust someone as pretty as you...”

He waited anxiously, watching her. While he wasn't very excited about being “ugly,” it was much better than being “absolutely terrifying.” And so long as he kept the cloak on, the “ugliness” wouldn't be a problem.

Rarity stared at him (or rather the screen; he certainly hoped she couldn't seem him very well), and sighed morosely. “Oh, Mort, you wound me...”

Mort tensed. She sounded sad. He was not going for sad. “I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disappoint you or anything...”

“I'll say!” she said. “How could you ever take me for being so shallow?”

“Well, it's just...” He trailed off again, repeating the words mentally. “Wait, what?”

“Yes, I tend to focus a lot on the appearance of a pony,” she explained, turning to the wall nearby. Her eyes scanned the various pictures and photos of lasciviously dressed mares. “My business does revolve around the creation of beautiful dresses, after all. The entire point of them is to draw the attention of others and make them look fabulous!

But I would never, ever think of judging you solely by your appearance. Physical perfection may draw the eyes, but it's what's inside here,” she tapped her chest for emphasis, “that matters more than anything.”

"Oh..." Mort scratched at the floor, suddenly feeling guilty. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have implied anything..."

"Oh, it's fine, dear!" she said, with a melodious giggle. Her expression then turned into one of concern. "I have to say, though, you are going to quite the extremes if you're really that worried about how you look."

"Well, it's...not exactly the sort of face anypony wants to see." Not including the severely depressed and morbid, anyway.

"Oh, Mort, please don't say things like that," she said sympathetically. "Nothing about your appearance will ever affect what we think of you."

Mort glanced behind him again, taking in the reflection. Red points of light stared back at him from within a bleached skull. “I really wish it was that simple, Rarity..."

“Of course it is!” she said resolutely. “Mort, the most important thing a pony can have is self-confidence, and the best place to start is not to worry so much about how you look. It pains me to see you hiding yourself like that, and in such weather as well! You must be suffering under there!”

“Well, it's not that bad,” he started to say, but Rarity cut him off.

“I'm going to prove that it doesn't matter what you look like, Mort,” she said, and to Mort's terror she started to walk towards him. “Now, I'm going to put this necklace on you, and I promise I'm not going to say one word about your supposed 'hideousness'. You'll see.”

Mort shifted his eyes between Rarity coming towards him, and the mirror behind him. If she got any closer she was going to see that mirror, and then him as well. Backing up, he summoned his magic and grabbed the screen, moving it with him while also enclosing it further around him.

Rarity stopped to look at him, frowning, then walking towards him again. “Oh, now don't be like that! Just give me a chance.”

“No thanks,” he said, shuffling to the right while taking the screen with him.

“Now Mort, I'm certain it's not nearly as bad as you're describing,” she said with firmness, following him. “Is it a scar?”

He shuffled further to the right. “No.”

“Early baldness?”

Shuffle. “No.”

“Crooked teeth?”

Every day shuffling. “No!” he said, moving in front of the window, and in the path of the sunbeam.

“Mort, please, I'm only trying to—”

The moment Rarity stood in front of him, her voice petered out. All she could do was stare, her jaw hanging open. Mort was confused for only a few seconds before he realized what was happening. With the sun at his back, he was now casting a shadow onto the screen. A shadow that was looking very skeletal at the moment.

Much like her cat from before, Rarity's pupils dilated, and she let out a blood-curdling scream that, in the right conditions, would have shattered wine glasses.

For the second time in the span of a few minutes, Mort dropped what he was holding. In this case, it was the changing screen. It fell over, landing on top of Rarity and silencing her.

Mort stared in shock, and was only broken out of it by several, quick knocks on the door. From the other side he could hear Twilight Sparkle, worry evident in her voice. “Rarity? What happened in there? Rarity?!”

Mort quickly scanned the floor, finding the necklace had dropped a couple feet away from the fallen screen, which was now bulging from Rarity's form. He quickly grabbed the necklace with his magic and put it on, but immediately remembered it wouldn't be nearly enough to hide his body. He fiddled with the buttons of the suit, only to find them getting stuck. His horn flared to get a better grasp using magic, but he was so panic-stricken he couldn't. Even as he tried to simply slide out of the suit, but it was getting caught on his ribs, in his vertebrae...

The door knob twisted. In a last, desperate attempt, he shut his eyes and visualized his cloak. He heard something tear, and then black ether erupted from his body, wrapping around himself.

By the time he was done, the door had burst open, and five ponies (plus one baby dragon) rushed into the room. There was a collective gasp, and five pairs of eyes were all on him.

"What in tarnations happened in here?" Applejack demanded.

Mort's answer was cut off by a weak groan, coming from under the screen. They all looked at it. Rainbow Dash and Applejack grabbed the sides, tossing the screen aside. Rarity rose from the ground, her eyes twirling in her head.

The white unicorn shook the stars from her head, and looked towards him. She gasped, her mouth opening and closing like a guppy as she pointed a quivering hoof at him.

She swallowed, struggling to form words. “W-what...what...!”

“R-Rarity...” He searched for words, but couldn't find any himself. This is how it would end, he realized. Found out because he couldn't get out of a simple suit. “I-I can explain...”

“What did you do to it?!” Rarity shrieked.

“I'm really a...” Mort stopped himself, and shot Rarity an incredulous look. “W-wait, what do you mean 'it'?”

“What do I mean? What do I mean?!” It was then Mort realized the hoof wasn't pointing at him. Not exactly him, anyway. When he followed it, he saw it was pointing at a gold tassel that was barely hanging onto his shoulder. Looking around, Mort saw himself surrounded by a ring of ripped, blue fabric and gold thread, the diamonds and ruby glittering in the sunlight. It was what remained of the suit, torn almost beyond recognition.

He remembered the tearing sound from earlier, and realized what had happened. His cloak had not wrapped around him like he intended, but had exploded outward with the force of a small explosion, leaving nothing behind but pretty rags.

For a moment, he felt an incredible sense of relief. If Rarity was choosing to freak out about a destroyed suit, then perhaps she wasn't even going to bring up the shadow she saw. Maybe she had forgotten it after the screen fell on her. Or she was just that more concerned with her outfit.

He soon felt the familiar tiding of dread, however, when Rarity slowly approached him, her large eyes focused on what was once a pristine outfit. “What could possibly possess you to do such a thing?!” she cried, scooping up one of the shoulder pads. She dangled it in front of him in an accusing manner. “Do you know how hard I worked on this? Do you?!”

Mort gulped, shrinking under her gaze. “I-I'm sorry, I—”

“Was it that awful?” she choked, her eyes brimming with tears. “Is that the real reason you hid yourself? Because you couldn't bear to be seen in it? Or because you wanted to do this to it the entire time?!”

“That's not it at all!” he shot back desperately. “I said I didn't want to be seen—”

“Well I'm sorry!” she wailed. “But did that really call for doing...this?” She collapsed to the ground, burying her head in her hooves as she choked back sobs. Mort stood, with no idea of what to do, or even what to say. He looked helplessly at the others, hoping they could step in, half-certain they would know what to do, but they almost seemed as lost as him. All except for Spike, who glared daggers at him as faint smoke billowed from his nostrils.

Rarity sniffed, wiping at her nose. “Everypony just gooo,” she moaned pitiably.

Mort stuttered, feeling lower than he had ever felt in a long time. “B-but...but—”

He was stopped by a strong, firm hoof on his shoulder. Applejack was staring at him with an unreadable expression, shaking her head. Feeling helpless, Mort was lead out by the others. He got one last look at the heartbroken fashionista before the door closed shut.

****

The door closed, and from inside came the audible sound of it locking. Twilight could hear Rarity sobbing quietly from the other side. She had half a mind to teleport in and try to comfort her, but at the same time realized that, as it was, it might make things worse. Though it frustrated her, Rarity needed a little time alone.

More frustrating was figuring out why it happened in the first place. Her first reaction was to demand from Mort a reason for destroying the suit, but that fizzled out when she saw how dejected and guilty the stallion looked. His whole body seemed to sag as he stood there, with his head dipped so low he looked like he was sniffing the floor.

She reeled her emotions in, thinking rationally. There had to be a reason for what he did, and it seemed to stem from his obsession with keeping himself concealed. Maybe Rarity had seen something. What, she didn't know. Not yet, anyway.

She took an uneasy breath. “Okay, Mort, can you tell us—”

“Why would you even do that, you jerk?!” Twilight cringed as Spike leaped from her back, almost forgetting he was there. The baby dragon landed in front of Mort, pointing an accusing finger at him. “She made that suit, all for you, and you just went and ripped it up!”

The cloaked pony shivered. “I-it was an accident,” he whimpered. “S-she surprised me, I panicked—”

“Oh come on!” Spike shouted, with angry disbelief. “How could you 'accidentally' destroy anything like that?! You're just a big, mean—”

“Spike!” Twilight marched over, looking disapprovingly at him. “Not another word, mister!”

The baby dragon stared at her in disbelief. “But, Twilight!”

“Not. Another. Word.” The baby dragon looked at her, seemingly ready to argue, but thankfully he relented and marched over to where the others stood, fuming. She couldn't bring herself to be too angry; she understood how Spike felt, and to be honest, she was a little angry about what happened as well. She wasn't going to get meaningful answers by screaming, though.

She looked back at Mort, who seemed to be even smaller than before. She took another breath. “Mort—”

“Hey guys!” Twilight facehooved as Pinkie Pie suddenly bounced over to them, an array of gear balanced on top of her. “Ooh, is that the outfit Rarity made? Funny, it looks a lot like what Mort used to wear! At least this way he can still keep the sun off!”

Twilight sighed. “Pinkie, this isn't—”

“But just in case, I got a bunch of stuff from Rarity's closet you might find useful! For instance, I got sun screen, sun hats, a sun umbrella and sunglasses! Go ahead, try them on!”

The pink pony slid the giant sunglasses onto Mort's nose. The cloaked pony didn't seem to notice, however, and the sunglasses simply slid back off. Pinkie Pie tried to put them on again, but was met with the same results.

Pinkie Pie seemed to finally notice the current atmosphere, and a look of concern crossed her face. “Hey, what's with all the frowny faces? Did something happen?”

“Mort blew up Rarity's suit,” Rainbow Dash said, looking pointedly at him.

Pinkie Pie gasped, all the beach gear falling off. She got directly in front of Mort, staring intently. “Blew it up? What happened, Morty?” Instead of responding, the cloaked pony averted his eyes, keeping them pointed at the floor.

“I've been trying to ask him that,” Twilight said, with a hint of annoyance.

“Well, it was just an accident, right?” Pinkie Pie asked, hopefully. “It's not like he meant to do it, right?”

“Well, Mort?” Twilight asked him. “Can you tell us what happened?”

This seemed to have gotten him as of his funk, as he suddenly stood tall. “It was an accident!” he exclaimed. “That suit was great! Wonderful! I'd never try to tear it up, I just...” He sighed, sounding weary. “When Rarity came in, she really wanted to see me, and I kept trying to hide myself, but then some...things happened, and I got so worked up trying to get my cloak back on, her suit...it just...” He trailed off, avoiding her eyes. “I-I mean it's not that bad, is it? It's not like...it wasn't made of rare materials or anything, was it?”

“It's not a matter of whether or not it can be replaced, Mort,” she said gently, “it's about the fact that she gave you a gift—a gift she worked very hard on—and it got completely destroyed.” He raised his head again, looking at her remorsefully. (Or at least, she thought so; it was unusually difficult to make out his expression.)

“Um, Mort?” Fluttershy approached him, with an expression both curious and concerned. “Is it really so bad if we...um, see you?”

“Yes!” he piped, nodding his head rapidly. “I'm really...I have...” The cloaked pony was silent for a moment, looking at his hooves thoughtfully. He took a long, deep breath, and slowly said, “I just can't let anypony look at me like that. I wish I could say more, but...I can't. It's just really, really complicated. I'm so sorry...”

There were traces of shame in his tone, but what had really stuck out was the sullen resignation of it all. As if he had little choice in the matter. She had initially assumed his secrecy had something to do with being shy or sensitive about his appearance, but he seemed to be treating it much more seriously than that. Now she was beginning to wonder if there really was more to it...

Rainbow Dash floated next to her, whispering in her ear. “What'd I tell ya? This is super, secret agent stuff!”

Rainbow Dash's words brought her back to her senses, and she merely rolled her eyes at the idea. Maybe Mort was being secretive for more reasons than she thought, but they were probably understandable. And not nearly as ridiculous as being a secret agent.

“This isn't right.” Having regained his composure, Mort began to walk towards the room. “Look, maybe if I go in and say I'm sorry, she—”

“Oh no!” Spike quickly slid in front of the door, holding his arms out to block the door that dwarfed him. “You are not getting anywhere near her right now!”

The cloaked pony sputtered. “B-but—”

“It's nothin' personal, Mort,” Applejack said, walking up next to him. “I believe ya. Ah'm sure yer mighty sorry 'bout what happened, but Rarity...well, she does have a thing for bein' overly dramatic, bless 'er heart.”

“Oh, you have no idea!” Pinkie Pie chimed in, bounding over to them. “One time she was at Sugarcube Corner, and I gave her a new brownie sample, and she liked it so much she asked for another one, then another, then I kinda teased her about eating too many brownies, and she said, 'Oh no, I'm turning into a blimp!' and ran all the way home and we had to convince her that she wasn't fat and it wouldn't matter if she was and...” Pinkie Pie took a deep breath, her cheeks bulging out, before deflating to normal. “So yeah, she's kinda sensitive about that sort of stuff!”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks Pinkie.” Rainbow Dash glided over and landed in front of Mort, causing Spike to continually attempt to peek around her, not wanting to lose sight of the cloaked pony. “Anyway, what they're trying to say is that when stuff like this happens, you generally gotta let her cool off first. You saw it. She had the whole 'woe is me' thing going.”

Mort didn't say anything at first. He looked between the three ponies surrounding him before turning back to look at Twilight. “Um, do you want to wait for her to...well, 'cool off'?”

She bit her lip, conflicted. It could be hours before Rarity was ready to talk again, and that would eat into the schedule they had spent so much time on. But there was no way she could just leave her alone. 'Overly dramatic' or not, the dress designer was clearly upset, and for a good reason. She needed somepony to be with her...

Her internal struggles may not have been as internal as she liked, as Applejack then said, “No need to get yer bridle in a twist, Twi'. Y'all can get a move on, if ya like. Ah can stick around and talk her out of there.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. “I mean, I'm sure if we need to—”

“Nope, won't hear nothin' of it.” Applejack came over and threw a foreleg over her shoulder. “Ah don't think Rarity would want somethin' like this to get in the way of everythin' today, Twi'. Trust me, she'll come 'round, an' be all understandin' like.”

Twilight still hesitated for a moment, torn about what to do, but the confidence in Applejack's voice and smile eventually won her over. “Well, if you're that sure, Applejack...”

“Ooh, ooh!” Spike suddenly climbed up Rainbow Dash and began to bounce up and down on her head, waving his hand in the air, much to the pegasus' chagrin. “I can stay, too! Rarity definitely needs all the support she can get.” The dragon yelped as Rainbow Dash flung her head up, sending the dragon through the air a short distance to land on Twilight’s back.

“Sorry, Spike,” she said, “but I think it'd be better if you came with us. I'll feel better showing Mort around if my number one assistant is with me.” In truth, she was mostly concerned that if Spike stuck around, he'd only make things worse between Mort and Rarity; he was still acting unusually hostile around Mort (well, not as unusual now), and she didn't want him feeding Rarity the idea that Mort had destroyed the suit intentionally.

Judging by Spike's expression, even the extra smothering of praise in her last statement did little to convince him. None the less, the baby dragon twisted himself around, keeping his back towards her. She had the idea of scolding him for the attitude, but decided to let it go. She really couldn't blame him for being upset this time.

Applejack left her side and went over to Mort, giving him a playful punch in the shoulder. “Don' you worry too much, Mort. You can apologize to her all ya like once she comes out. It'll work out, you'll see.”

Mort nodded gratefully. Twilight took the lead, guiding everyone out of the boutique, leaving Applejack to sit by the dressing room door. She felt another flicker of doubt about leaving Applejack by herself, but reminded herself that there was nopony more dependable than Applejack.

As they got outside, back into the hot, summer sun, Mort scratched at the ground, appearing even meeker than before.

“So,” he asked, drawing the word out, “where to next...?”

*****

Angel loved Fluttershy. He sometimes gave her a hard time, teased her, and, admittedly, acted like a brat, but he really did love her. The pegasus had raised him since he was little, feeding him, housing him, making sure the larger rabbits didn't pick on him, tending to any scrape he would get. Fluttershy was very, very close to being a mother for him.

And like all mothers, they had an annoying tendency to rope them into things. Especially if they involved “cute” outfits.

He tugged at the collar of the conductor suit that Fluttershy had him wear today, the clothing making him feel even hotter then he normally would. A tiny music stand stood in front of him, with equally tiny sheet music, with a tiny conductor baton laying across it. He couldn't read it, and he didn't know how to conduct; Fluttershy just told him to “wave the stick around” because, of course, it would be cute.

Not far from him, sitting in a tree, were a flock of restless birds. Blue Jays, robins and finches were perched on the branches, grooming themselves, while at the base of the tree were ferrets with drums, a pair of rattlesnakes, a pair of garden snakes with rattles so they wouldn't feel left out, and a porcupine with a xylophone.

The park was just beginning to bustle with ponies, friends and family meeting with each other under shady trees or on a park bench. A couple times there would be foals, excitedly running around the impromptu concert, before their parents would come and drag them away. At the bottom of a small hill, not far from him, was a pond where some ponies were spending time together in little paddle boats. Wanting to throw himself in the pond was another urge he had to resist.

He looked at the stop watch he had set down, noting the time. He still had at least another half-hour before Fluttershy was due to arrive, along with some pony he’d never heard of. Of course it would happen on one of the hottest days of the year. He wasn't sure if the extra carrots Fluttershy promised him were worth this.

Just as he was contemplating the consequences of simply heading home, he heard hoofsteps coming his way. Readying himself to drive away yet another solicitor, he was surprised to find it was actually Fluttershy, looking anxious.

“Oh, Angel! I'm sorry I'm so early, but something came up at Rarity's. We need to move the concert schedule up. Um, if you don't mind, that is...”

Angel wanted to breath a sigh of relief more than anything, but held back, and instead furrowed his brows, as if in deep thought. Fluttershy watched him nervously, as if expecting him to say that he needed more time. A lot more time, even.

That couldn't be any further from the truth, of course. He wanted to get out of the sun and this stupid suit as quickly as possible, but he did get a certain amount of satisfaction from making Fluttershy squirm, if only as a little payback for being dragged out here for some pony he probably wouldn't even like.

Finally, he gave a slow and deliberate nod, and the pegasus pony clopped her hooves together in joy. “Oh, thank you, Angel!” She reached down and squeezed him in a hug. He struggled in her hooves, his face flushing with embarrassment, hearing some amused noises from the birds and ferrets. He wished she didn't do this in front of the other animals. In private was another thing entirely, but not in public with so many watching.

She finally released him, letting him down gently on the ground. “Okay, Angel, you and the others get ready, and I'll bring everypony over, okay?” With that she took off into the air, flying towards the other side of the park.

Not long after, she came back, and with her were three of her friends: the loud-mouth pegasus, the reality-defying earth pony, and the eggheaded unicorn—as well her pompous assistant—and...

Angel blinked, rubbing at his eyes. The final member of her group was a unicorn, or at least he thought it was, wearing a black cloak that was darker than any raven, and with a horn that seemed bent. His face could barely be seen, save for eyes that seemed unusually red.

He shivered, feeling goose bumps across his body. Something seemed off about that pony. Very off. But before he could think about it further, his thoughts were interrupted by a high-pitched squeal from the pink pony.

“Oh my gosh, Fluttershy! He's so cute in that itty, bitty, suit of his! He's even got a teeny bow tie!” The pink pony giggled delightfully, and Angel felt his humiliation increase ten-fold.

“I'm glad you liked it! I sewed it myself.” Fluttershy walked over to the cloaked pony, presenting him. “Angel Bunny, this is Mort, that friend I was telling you about last night. We're hoping to give him a fun time today.”

“Wow, Fluttershy, you didn't tell me it was a concert,” the purple unicorn said, evidently awed. “How did you set this up in such a short amount of time?”

“Oh, it wasn't that hard,” Fluttershy said modestly. “To be honest, I was wanting to do something like this for the next Summer Sun Celebration. It's still a work in progress, because I want to get as many animals as I can to play something.”

“I...guess, that's kinda cool,” the cyan pegasus said, obviously unconvinced. Angel shot a dirty look at her, but the rainbow-maned pony didn't seem to notice.

The cloaked pony, meanwhile, just shrugged. “Well,” he started, in a small voice that conflicted heavily with the ill feelings Angel had, “if it's good enough for the Summer Sun Celebration, let's hear it!”

Fluttershy smiled appreciatively, and gave a nod towards Angel. Angel nodded back, and straightened his pose. He licked his palm and slicked his ears back. He then picked up the conductor baton, tapping the music stand. He didn't like it, but that didn't mean he couldn't look good doing it, either.

Each music piece was relatively short, some lasting as few as thirty seconds, some going on for almost two minutes. He wasn't sure where, exactly, Fluttershy had got the tunes, whether she had made them herself or had read them from somewhere else. Still, he had to admit, some were quite catchy.

He looked behind him to see their reactions. Fluttershy, of course, was smiling with pride, clopping her hooves together. The pink pony was dancing in place, singing lyrics to herself. The cyan pegasus looked bored, though he could still spot her hoof tapping to the rhythm occasionally. The purple unicorn and her dragon assistant were nodding along, pleasant smiles on their faces.

The most surprising reaction, though, was from the cloaked pony, who was not only tapping his hooves to the beat, but also swaying his body side-to-side, sometimes spinning in a little circle. It was, for lack of a better term, dorkish. The mere sight of it almost made him forget that he was getting the creeps from him earlier.

Not long after, the miniature concert ended with a musical climax from every animal performer there. Hot, sweaty, and exhausted, Angel turned on the spot, and did a little bow. All the ponies and the baby dragon gave a round of applause, with some whistling from the pink pony. He was simply glad it was over.

“That was amazing!” Angel looked up to see the cloaked pony coming forward, his pale face becoming visible. “I mean, I've heard birds sing before and everything but that was...and the snakes, and the drums and...wow!”

Fluttershy held her hooves up to her face, grinning. “Y-you liked it?”

“I loved it!” he said. “I can't even imagine what this would be like once you get even more animals on board!”

“O-oh, well, um, thank you very much, Mort.” Fluttershy's smile grew wider, her face turning beat red. “If you like, I could take you over to my cottage to see all the others. They love visitors!”

“I'll...have to think about it,” Mort said, sounding slightly apprehensive. “Until then, any chance for an...'encore', was it? Yeah, an encore?”

Angel went stiff. He did not, could not, would not, stand out here anymore. He had finished his side of the bargain, and had sweated perhaps more today than he had ever all summer. He crossed his arms, glaring at the cloaked pony.

“Oh, Angel, don't be like that.” Fluttershy gently lifted him up, giving him an imploring look. “Mort is a very special guest, couldn't you do it one more time? For him?”

He humphed, looking away from her. He really doubted she'd use the Stare, but he didn't want to take any chances.

“Oh dear,” she said, disheartened. “Please, Angel Bunny? Can you really say no to him?” She bent down, lifting him by his armpits against his verbal protests.

“Um, F-Fluttershy, I really don't think...uh...”

Angel tried to glare at the cloaked pony, but what he saw knocked the wind out of him. He was looking directly into the hood of the cloaked pony, his face unnaturally thin, and his eyes practically glowing. He blinked once, and the pony's face seemed to get even thinner, what fur was there was disappearing and revealing something smooth underneath. The eyes seemed to grow brighter, and he noticed the lack of pupils, or irises, or even the actual eyeball.

He blinked again, and this time his blood went ice cold as he was staring not at a pony face, but a pony skull, perpetually grinning at him with eyes that were not really eyes, but burning points of light. He had sudden flashes of memory, of animals dying from age, disease, or predators from the Everfree Forest.

He blinked again. And again. And again. And no matter how many times he did it the skull didn't go away, and if anything looked even more real.

The skull coughed nervously. “Uh, e-everything okay, little guy?”

Angel screamed, and threw the baton straight at the monster's face, causing it to step back in surprise. A moment later, Angel was dropped unceremoniously on the ground, his rear breaking his fall. Rubbing his bruised rump, he watched in horror as Fluttershy actually went to the monster, barraging it with apologies and asking if it was all right.

For a moment he thought he made a mistake, and saw something that wasn't there. When he looked at the other animals, though, he could see it in their terrified eyes and the way they quivered on the spot. They saw the same thing too.

When he turned back around to check on Fluttershy, she was already marching towards him, her eyes narrowed in disapproval. “Angel Bunny, what's gotten into you?! That's no way to treat a guest!”

Angel opened his mouth and prepared his paws, wondering how he could pantomime the fact that she was next to a monster. But before he could dwell on it further, his eyes were drawn to the monster that had recollected itself, and was approaching Fluttershy from behind, his curved and very sharp horn gleaming in the sunlight.

His heart stopped. His terror-wracked brain imagined dozens of scenarios involving that horn and Fluttershy. He briefly imagined life without her tucking him into bed, or nuzzling him when he did a good job, or nursing him when he was sick, or comforting him after he screwed up. A life without her wasn't a life he wanted.

He whistled for the other animals, breaking them out of their trances, and pointed at the monster, barking an order.

All at once, they attacked.

****

Twilight gasped as Angel threw the baton straight at Mort's face, sending the cloaked pony tumbling back in surprise. She moved in quickly, using her body to keep him from tumbling over as he seemed prone to, feeling a chill pass through her as she did so. How could he manage to feel so cool in this weather?

“Oh my gosh!” Fluttershy was over in an instant, a look of mortification on her face. “Oh, Mort, I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry! That's never happened before! You're not hurt, are you?”

“I-I'm fine,” he said, unsteadily getting back to his hooves, and the chill Twilight felt left just as quickly. “It's not a big deal, I-I mean, I probably just spooked him. It's not his fault.”

“No!” Fluttershy's mouth curved into a scowl. “There's no excuse for doing something like that!” The yellow pegasus spun around, marching towards the white rabbit. “Angel Bunny, what's gotten into you? That's no way to treat a guest!”

Mort came up behind her, stuttering. “L-look, it's not a big deal. I'm sure we can just—”

Before he could say anything else, there came a small (and almost adorable) battle cry from Angel, who seemed to regard Mort with nothing short of utmost contempt. A moment later, the birds that had been perched in the tree took off, flying into the sky before dive bombing towards Mort. Mort yelped, and ducked just in time to miss getting pecked.

In his distraction, though, he didn't see the rattlesnakes, ferrets and porcupine charging at him. Twilight watched in horror as the ferrets leaped onto Mort's hood, scratching and biting, causing him to rear back in panic. In that panic, the two snakes slid up and wrapped themselves around his legs, biting into the thick cloak. The porcupine, meanwhile, was ramming him from all sides, with each strike leaving more quills in his cloak.

Mort acted as well as he could have: he ran around like a mad pony, screaming in fright as the animals continued their assault, the birds diving back down to peck at whatever wasn't being attack already.

“Oh, no! No! Stop it!” The horrified Fluttershy flew towards Mort, doing her best to drag some of the animals off, but it was nearly impossible to do so with Mort running as he was. And whenever she did somehow manage to pry one of them off, they would merely squirm out of her grasp and latch back onto Mort. “Stop it! Stop it, all of you!” she cried, sounding on the brink of tears.

“Sleeper hold, Mort!” Rainbow Dash hollered, cupping her mouth. “Use your sleeper hold!”

“I don't have a 'sleeper hold'!” he shouted back.

“Pfft, what kind of secret agent are you?”

“I'm not a secret agent!” He stopped to deliver that declaration, and in that window the snakes slithered up his cloak and inside his hood. His eyes turned to pinpricks. “They're INSIDE me! Sweet, merciful Thanasia, get them out!”

Twilight gawked at the scene, unable to organize her scattered, panicked thoughts into a coherent idea. She had never seen Fluttershy's animals act so violently, and was still trying to formulate a way to get them off without ending up like Fluttershy's attempts.

Even Pinkie Pie's bubbly attitude had disappeared, to be replaced with grim anxiety. “Uh, Fluttershy drains the venom from all her snakes, right?”

“I-I think so,” Twilight said, with more uncertainty than she wanted.

“Oh, well, that's good. So...what happened to the other snakes?”

Twilight snapped her head around. “What other snakes?”

As soon as she said that, she saw them, the pair of garden snakes that had been holding the rattles from before. They had done away with the instruments, and were waiting on top of the hill, where Mort was stumbling towards. The garden snakes nodded at each other, tied their tails together, and then stretched themselves out. Coming up behind Mort, unseen since it all started, was Angel, bearing the baton like a joust.

It was very clear what was going to happen. “Mort!” she shouted. “Stop! Don't go that way, it's—”

It was too late. Angel gave a victorious squeak and struck Mort with the baton, snapping it in two and sending the cloaked pony forward, just enough to be tripped by the garden snakes. The animals abandoned him as he tumbled down the hill, before finally crashing into the pond, sending water everywhere.

Twilight’s jaw nearly unhinged, and she galloped towards the pond, passing through the cheering animals. By the time she got to the pond's edge, she could see a shadow in the water making its way towards shore. She rushed over to its destination, arriving just as Mort broke through the surface, water pouring down his cloak. Twilight stuck her hooves out, pulling him out of the pond.

He began to sputter broken words. “Terrible, rotten...cute, but still...wouldn't get off me...poking around my insides...oh goodness, I feel so unclean...”

“You're not hurt, are you?” she asked, remembering the bites and quills. “Maybe we should get you to the nurse!”

“I'm not hurt,” he grumbled. “Just...aggravated. And wet.” He shook his body like a dog, and she had to step back to avoid getting drenched. By the time he finished, the librarian was surprised to see that his cloak was completely dry again, and somehow missing the holes and tears that should have come from the animals.

Before she could wonder about it further, there came a distressed beating of wings. “Mort!” Fluttershy called, hovering just a short distance from them, concern etched all over her face. “Oh my goodness, I'm sorry, they never, ever acted like that before! Are you okay?”

“Okay? Okay?!” He spun his head around, and Twilight stepped back as a furious tone took hold of Mort's voice, his eyes darkening. “I was pecked by birds, bit by ferrets, poked by porcupines, constricted by snakes and sent into a pond! I am just peachy!”

Fluttershy recoiled as if struck. Her lip quivered and tears began to stream down her cheeks. “I-I'm sorry...,” she choked.

Mort's eyes widened. “W-wait,” he said, his tone now regretful, “I-I didn't mean to...”

Fluttershy flew away before he could finish, sobbing quietly to herself. She made a shaky landing back where her animals were, attempting to gather them together. Mort watched her a moment longer, then he began to walk in the opposite direction, his head bowed low.

“Wait, Mort, it's...” She searched for the words, but couldn't find them. Everything she could say sounded so feeble at the moment. She could only stand there as he sulked away.

She heard a fluttering of wings, and looked up, hoping it was Fluttershy. Instead, she saw Rainbow Dash flying towards them, skidding to a halt in front of her. The pegasus grinned nervously.

“Sooo,” the young flier began, hesitantly, “what happened?”

“Mort bit Fluttershy's head off,” Spike deadpanned.

“Spike,” Twilight Sparked sighed, unable to even muster a scolding tone.

“Aw geeze...” Rainbow Dash facehooved, sighing to herself. “Well, after what happened, I guess he'd be a little sore...”

Twilight looked at her pleadingly. “Rainbow Dash, could you...?”

“Way ahead of ya, Twilight. I'll see you guys later.” She gave a short salute, then took off in a rainbow blur, chasing after Fluttershy.

Nothing was said for a moment. Twilight lay down, staring out across the pond, feeling tired and frustrated. The day had started promisingly, but had quickly spiraled into chaos. Reality, it seemed, had a fondness for beating her with Muphy's Law.

How was Luna going to react to this? She'd been given a personal assignment from the princess herself, to help a friendless pony make friends, and so far it was looking unforgettable in the worst, possible terms.

“What am I going to do, Spike?” she moaned miserably, resting her head on her forelegs. “It's like one disaster after another today!”

Spike scratched his head, deep in thought. “Maybe we should just tell Luna it's not working out?”

“What? No! That's an awful idea!” she admonished. “How could you even suggest that?”

“Oh, come on!” he groaned. “At the rate we're going, he's going to end up in the emergency room just by watching Rainbow Dash.”

“That's no reason to abandon him!” she snapped.

“He's a walking disaster!” he snapped back, nostrils flaring. “Look what he did at Rarity's! Or to Fluttershy!”

Some choice words floated to her mind, but she took a deep breath to calm herself. Snapping at Spike wasn't going to work, and if anything it might make things worse. After she had calmed herself, she spoke in a soft, but firm, voice.

“Everypony makes mistakes, Spike,” she said. “Some bigger than others. I know he accidentally hurt Rarity's feelings, but it was just that: an accident. And of course he'd be a little upset after what happened just now. We can't go turning our backs on somepony because they did things they didn't mean. If we did...well, I don't think anypony would have a friend left.”

Spike crossed his arms. “What are you talking about?”

She sighed, frustrated. “Spike, do I need to tell you the times we messed up?”

Spike seemed to have a moment of clarity, his eyes widening at the implications. “Uh, you mean like that time with Mr. Smartypants?”

“Yes,” she answered, unable to stop a tiny pang of guilt. “Or that time you pillaged the whole town?”

“Oh. Yeah...” Spike turned around, wrangling his fingers. “That was kinda bad, huh?”

“Yes, but we forgave you, because we know you didn't mean it,” she said gently. “And everypony forgave me, because they understood I was really stressed, and knew how sorry I was. How would you feel if everypony stopped being friends with us because of what we did?”

Spike was silent for a moment, as the thought sunk in. “Pretty awful,” he said quietly.

“Exactly,” she said. “I won't say Mort isn't confusing in his ways, but I really don't believe he means for any of this to happen. Maybe this is the entire reason why Luna sent him to us in the first place!” Twilight felt a steely resolve take root in herself. “Well, one things for sure, I'm not giving up! Whatever it takes, I am going to show Mort the best day of his life, even if it kills me!”

Something splashed in the pond, and Twilight shot to her hooves with a startled yelp, knocking Spike off her back. Shaking the water from her mane, she saw what had caused the splash. “Pinkie Pie?!”

The earth pony's head was sticking out of the water, staring at her with a grim expression. She wore flippers on her hooves and a snorkel on her face. She saluted Twilight, her voice a serious monotone.

“Sergeant Sparkle! Operation Mort's Best Day Ever has completed Stage 3: Cuddly Critters, but with heavy losses! Our forces are down to forty-two percent, and the target has run off to mope somewhere! Should we fall back?”

She shot Pinkie Pie a confident grin, not bothering to question her choice of delivery. “Negative, Private Pinkie Pie! I will assess the target, then we'll regroup and continue the operation!”

“Sergeant, may I suggest we rendezvous at Sugar Cube Corner?”

Twilight could barely suppress her giggles as Pinkie Pie continued her act. “That sounds perfect, Private! I'll see you in half-an-hour.”

The serious expression on Pinkie Pie's face lasted a moment longer, before dissolving into a huge smile. “Okie dokey, pokey pony!” She pinched her nose with a hoof, and dived back down into the water.

Spike scratched his head. “'Pokey pony?'”

“Come on, Spike,” she said, lifting him up onto her back. “We got a pony to cheer up.”

It didn't take the two of them long to find him. He hadn't gone very far, settling down on a grassy slope in the shade of a tree. The slope looked over the hub of the park, which consisted of a dirt path circling a fountain, surrounded by benches and several paths leading elsewhere through the park and into town. More ponies were beginning to show up, with the plan of enjoying the bright, clear day.

Mort didn't seem to register her until she was practically on top of him. He looked up at her with pink eyes, looking pitiful.

She put on her most encouraging smile. “How are you doing, Mort?”

He shrugged, murmuring something under his breath, before turning his gaze back to the fountain.

Not to be discouraged, she asked, “Are you sure you're not hurt?”

“I'm okay,” he said. Hearing nothing else, Twilight settled down next to him, keeping some space between them. She looked out at the park along with him, watching as Ponyville's citizens went about their activities. Friends were gossiping with each other, a couple were throwing bits into the fountain for good luck, and an ice cream vendor was beginning to set up his cart.

Mort suddenly muttered something.

“What was that?” Twilight asked.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered. “I didn't mean to snap at her, I...” He shook his head wearily. “It wasn't her fault.”

“It's okay,” she said, reassuringly. “Rainbow Dash is with her, and Fluttershy's a tougher pony than she looks. Trust me, she'll be fine.”

“I guess,” he replied, sounding unconvinced. There was another awkward pause, before he said, “I'm making a mess of things, aren't I?”

“No, no! Of course not! I mean...okay, there have been a couple bumps in the road,” she sheepishly admitted, “but that's pretty normal, all things considered. I mean, when I first came here, I ended up getting covered in mud, drenched in water, and drinking hot sauce of all things.” She giggled at the memory, trying to lighten the mood.

“You didn't bring anyone to tears though, did you?” he muttered miserably.

Twilight frowned. “Well...no...”

Mort sighed. “Twilight, I...really appreciate what you're trying to do,” he said, morosely. “But with the way things are going...maybe I should just go before anything else happens.”

She felt her spirits falter, and her chest tighten. “Oh, no, Mort...”

“I mean, it's not just about destroying that suit or getting attacked or anything, I really...well...” He shuffled his hooves, giving an air of embarrassment. “I really wanted to make a good impression on all of you, you know? After everything you've done for Lu...for everypony, I just...” He trailed off, resting his head on his forelegs, and seemingly trying his best to sink into the earth. “They probably don't like me now. Maybe I'm not cut out for this sort of thing after all...”

Twilight felt a knot in her stomach. She recalled Luna's letter, and how it said Mort had few friends to call his own. And now that he was given perhaps his best chance to make them...she found herself not so much as dreading what Luna would think, but dreading what it would do to Mort. The only thing worse than having few friends, is believing you would never be able to have them. And she couldn't let him leave thinking that. No pony deserved that.

“Mort,” she started, gently, “My friends won't hate you, and there's absolutely no reason to think you can't have any friends either. I know you've made a few mistakes, but that doesn't make you a bad pony!”

“'Mistakes' is putting it lightly,” he muttered drearily.

“Listen, it's hardly the worst thing that's ever happened to them,” she said, trying to steer the conversation into a more positive direction. “They'll pull through no problem, you'll see!”

“I'm sure they will,” he concurred, “but I don't think that means they'll want to see me...”

“Well...”

Twilight stiffened as Spike spoke up, having nearly forgotten he was there. Her first reaction was to shush him before he said anything, but something held her back. It may have been some form of 'sisterly' instincts, or perhaps because his tone didn't sound as hostile as it did before. Whatever it was, it made her keep quiet and listen.

Mort looked at Spike, and understandably, not without some air of apprehension. “Yeah...?”

Spike fidgeted on top of her, as if struggling with the words. “Um, okay...you're sorry about what happened, right?”

“Of course I am!” he exclaimed, as if it were obvious.

“Really sorry?” Spike asked, while sliding off Twilight’s back to land on the ground, posturing himself in front of Mort.

“Yes, really, really sorry.” Mort sighed, shaking his head.

"Oh." Spike crossed his arms, his expression souring a little. His voice was a level monotone. “Well...I guess that means you're in the clear, then.”

“Huh?” This got Mort's attention, and the hooded pony stared at Spike, his eyes having a glint of hope. “R-really?”

“Yeah,” Spike said, trying to sound as indifferent as possible. “Fluttershy's probably more upset about what happened to you then what you said. She'll probably want to make things right with you more than anything. And as long as you're sorry, I don't think Rarity will be mad at your for long. She's not that kind of pony! She's...” A dreamy sigh escaped his lips, and Twilight braced herself for what was to come.

“She's just the kindest, sweetest pony in all Equestria,” he continued, his heart aflutter, “who's as beautiful on the outside as she in on the inside, with a heart that's prettier and more pure than any ruby or diamond...”

Twilight could almost gag on the sap that spewed from Spike's mouth. Even his pupils seemed heart shaped, though she rationalized that was just a trick of the light. (An argument that didn't work so well in explaining the fluttering hearts that encircled his head.) She wasn't looking forward to his more hormonal years.

Regardless, though, it seemed to have had some effect on Mort. The cloaked pony was now looking at Spike with keen interest. His eyes squinted, his head tilted from one side to the other, and his horn glowed slightly as well. She remembered seeing him do the same thing when he first saw Rarity's suit; she'd have to ask him about that sometime.

Spike, finally taking notice, snapped out of his day dream and fixed Mort with a look. “What?” he asked, defensively.

“You...” Mort scratched his chin, as if struggling for the right words. “You...like her, don't you?”

A look of panic flashed across Spike's face. “Huh?! W-well, yeah! Everyone likes Rarity! That's not weird!”

“Yeah, but you like...like her,” he said, as if just beginning to grasp the idea. He gasped suddenly. “That's why you've been so upset! You have a, a...what do they call it...a crush on her!”

Twilight stifled a giggle as Spike's face turned bright red. “W-what?! Who told you that?!” he demanded, pointing an accusing claw at him. “It was Twilight, wasn't it?!”

Twilight stared incredulously at Mort as he spoke, the hooded pony almost sounding giddy. “That's just incredible! A dragon liking a pony like that! I've never seen anything like it!” He held a hoof to his mouth, giggling like a foal.

“Come on, I'm trying to be nice here!” Spike steamed, giving Mort a heated look. “It's not that funny!”

Mort suddenly stopped, and looked at Spike with a sorry expression (or at least she thought it was; again, it was hard to tell). “O-oh, no, I don't think it's funny. Actually, I think it's really sweet.”

That anger that seemed to be welling up in Spike fizzled all at once, to be replaced with pure confusion. “Huh?”

“I think it's great you care so much about your friends,” Mort said, sounding moved. He reached out, gently patting Spike on the head. “You're a really good dragon, Spike. I bet Twilight's proud of you.”

She really was, especially now. Without needing to vocalize it, she bent her head forwarded, nuzzling Spike on the cheek. The baby dragon immediately protested, too flustered and embarrassed to get out a coherent response.

“G-geeze, stop it, Twilight! Not in public!” After a few more seconds, she let him push her head away. She watched in amusement as he dusted himself off, brushing his head fins back in an apparent attempt to look “cool”.

“Okay,” he breathed, watching the two of them wearily. “I've met my 'touchy-feely' quota for the day, all right? Now if you don't mind, I'm going for some ice cream...”

He ran off to the vendor, leaving the two alone. Mort watched the dragon scramble to the cart, where he struggled to get himself noticed by the significantly taller stallion, before finally deciding to climb up to the top, surprising the vendor.

“Celestia must really have a lot of faith in you,” Mort said.

Twilight smiled modestly. “Well, yeah, finding the Elements of Harmony and saving the world a few times would do that.”

“Well, yeah, but she must have trusted your before that,” he said, with a touch of praise. “Especially if Spike's anything to go by.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

"You're raising him,” he empathized. “Think about it Twilight, he's a dragon. Dragons are...well, jerks most of the time. They got huge egos, are extremely territorial, and have an almost unhealthy fascination with precious metals and gems. And you don't want to know what the really nasty ones would do to trespassers.” Mort shuddered involuntarily, making an unusual rattling noise.

“But Spike's not like that!” she said defensively, feeling a flare of irritation.

“Exactly!” he said. “Thanks to you, he's nothing like that! He obviously cares a lot about you and your friends. And...well, think about it: he's cute and cuddly now, but he's going to be big and powerful when he grows up. And he'll live a long time, much longer than most other creatures. He's going to act and live according to how you raised him...and that's going to have big ramifications for a couple centuries, at least.

“Of all the ponies in Equestria to entrust Spike to, of every soldier, scholar, or ruler, Celestia picked you above all of them. That is...” Mort laughed softly, holding his head in one hoof. “That is a really big deal! You could be giving Equestria a real gift, when you think about it.”

“Oh, well...” Twilight fidgeted with her front hooves, suddenly feeling as if a large weight was placed upon her. She felt her head swim. “I...gee, I never thought of it that way...”

She pivoted her head to spot Spike still sitting on top of the cart, chatting away with the pony as he went about scooping ice cream into a big bowl. She had always seen Spike as her faithful assistant, dear friend and even close family. She never gave much thought to what it would mean when he really grew up.

It was a little exciting, but also a little scary. Dragons did not have the best reputations in Equestria (arguably for good reason), but she hadn't considered what that would mean for Spike. There were plenty of upstanding ponies who may have made mistakes when they were younger, but it was nothing compared to what a dragon could do. What if she messed up? What would happen to Spike?

Mort must have noticed her expression, because a moment later he was quickly saying, “A-anyway I don't think you have anything to worry about. You're obviously doing a pretty good job and Spike's got plenty of good role models. I bet everything's going to turn out great with him!”

She couldn't help but smile at the almost manic manner in which he spoke, eager to alleviate her concerns. She was all too familiar with that reaction, especially when she thought of her times with Celestia, and how Celestia's responses did more to calm Twilight down then visa versa.

“You're right,” she said. “So long as I'm around and my friends are helping, I don't have to worry about Spike. And he's already shown me he can do the right thing, even without me telling him to.”

Mort sighed in relief, a feeling that Twilight also shared. While she now had to think about how to raise Spike as he got older and bigger, she had complete faith that he would always do his best to do the right thing.

But one thing nagged at her.

“Mort?”

“Yes?”

“Where did you hear about me getting Spike from Celestia?”

Mort stared at her unblinkingly. “...What?”

“Well, it's not all that well known,” she explained, suddenly bothered by his vacant expression. “We might be kinda famous, but that's not something I told a lot of ponies.”

Mort twiddled his forehooves nervously. “O-oh, well, I end up passing through Canterlot an awful lot, you know? A-and you know how they are up there, always gossiping and everything. I probably just picked it up from there...”

“Really?” she said, sounding more skeptical then she intended.

Mort shrugged helplessly. “Well, there aren't that many ponies with dragon assistants...”

“That's true...” She supposed that her getting a dragon for an assistant would be something of a “big deal,” but that had been ages ago. It was a wonder anypony would still talk about it.

Her train of thought was interrupted when her eyes caught the necklace around his neck. “Is that really important to you, Mort?”

“Huh? This?” Mort grasped the medallion with the tips of his forehooves. “Oh, you have no idea! This is...well, it's a special gift from a good friend of mine.”

“The one that was busy?”

Mort's shoulders slumped. “Yeah...really busy...”

Twilight once again looked at the design of the medallion. She had the inkling of an idea that she had initially dismissed at Rarity's boutique, but she found herself returning to it more and more often. She couldn't confirm anything until she got back to the library, though...

Spike then chose that moment to come back, balancing a bowl of Neighapolitan ice cream on his head, and also bringing not one, but two ice cream cones. He stopped in front of Twilight, holding out a cone that was piled high with rocky road scoops.

“Here you go, Twilight,” he said, grinning at her. “Your favorite!”

“Aw, you're so thoughtful!” She levitated the cone out of his hand, and started on it right away, giggling at the icy sensation. She stopped mid-lick to see Spike offering the other cone to Mort, though going through great pains to make it not look like a big deal.

“Uh, here,” he said, glancing away from Mort. “I didn't really know what you liked, so I just got you strawberry. With sprinkles.”

Mort oohed as he looked at the cone, levitating it out of Spikes hand just as she did. He rotated it in place, almost looking fascinated by it.

She started to lick her cone again and Spike dug into his own bowl, keeping an eye on Mort. A minute passed, and still the stallion hadn't even touched his ice cream. He twirled it in front of him, his magic keeping it in one piece as he turned it upside down and on its side. Like an archeologist who had just discovered a new fossil.

“Something wrong, Mort?” she asked.

“Huh? O-oh, nothing, uh...” Mort stared at his cone a moment longer, occasionally glancing at her and Spike, before the whole thing disappeared inside his hood with a very audible gulp. Twilight felt her jaw drop, and she could see Spike frozen in mid-bite, ice cream slowly dripping off his spoon.

“Hmm, hmm!” Mort said, nodding vigorously. “Good stuff! Really! Yum yum!” The enthusiasm soon left his voice, as he realized the stares he received. “Um...thank you?”

“No wonder you weren't hurt,” Spike whispered in awe. “Even your brain's made of iron!”

“Well, I'm glad you really liked it,” Twilight giggled after a moment, “but, uh, next time, maybe you should take a couple bites before swallowing the whole thing.”

“Heh heh, uh, I'll keep that in mind,” Mort said, scratching his head.

The three of them sat in silence. It wasn't an awkward silence, like before; it was calm and relaxing, quiet not because they couldn't think of anything to say, but because there was simply nothing to say. A breeze had picked up, and together with the shade, it made the hot afternoon feel like a comfortable day in early spring.

The park was quickly filling up; friends were meeting and gossiping with each other by the fountain, families were settling down under shady trees to unpack their lunches or books. Some had brought kites, ready to take advantage of the sudden wind.

“I like this,” Mort finally said, his voice peaceful. “I'm practically on the move all the time, you know. I can't really stick around to see stuff like this. But when I do, it's...” He trailed off, searching for an appropriate word. “Nice,” he said finally.

“It really is.” Twilight said, finishing the last of her ice cream, before eating the cone. “One of the nice things about a small town, you get to know everypony, sooner or later.”

“That so? Hmm...” His eyes turned towards a bench, where a mint green unicorn and a creamy earth pony were sitting, the former in an awkward position that Twilight could never figure out. “How about those two? Do you know them?”

“Oh, yeah! That's Lyra and Bon-Bon,” Twilight explained. “Lyra likes playing, well, the lyre, and Bon-Bon can make some really good sweets. Pinkie Pie sometimes invites her to help at Sugarcube Corner.”

“I take it they're friends?” he asked.

“Yep,” she said, with a knowing look, “you could say they're very good friends.”

Mort looked at her blankly, tilting his head to one side.

“Uh, nevermind,” she said, her face flushing as Spike giggled next to her.

Mort took another look around, and pointed in another direction. “How about that mare over there? With the picnic basket?”

Twilight looked over his shoulder, spotting a plum-colored pony, with a grape and strawberry cutie mark, digging her head inside a picnic basket. Beside her, a small foal was sitting in front of a plate, fidgeting impatiently. She was instantly recognizable.

“Oh, that's Berry Punch,” she said. “She brews up and sells a lot of grape juice in Ponyville.”

“Huh...that's a lot of juice to bring for two ponies,” Mort commented, as the mare across the park brought out several bottles and cups. The foal was poured a simple cup of apple juice that she recognized from Applejack's farm, while the mother poured herself several cups of different juices.

Twilight giggled. “She's probably trying out a few, new recipes today. That pony has pretty exquisite tastes.”

“And that's the Flower Trio over there,” Spike commented, pointing to three earth ponies. They were playing with kites, with each mare bearing a different flower-based cutie mark. Twilight had seen them around town all the time, and they were practically attached at the hip. “I think Lily's still getting over her bunnyphobia.”

“Bunnyphobia?” Mort asked.

“From a bunny stampede,” Spike stated.

“Bunny stampede?”

Spike would never get tired of telling that story. “It's a long story,” she said. “Though the correct term is Leporiphobia, Spike, and she is doing better.”

Mort chuckled. “Wow, I should've swung by this town more often. Now how about...huh?”

“What is it?” she asked.

“Uh, that guy,” Mort pointed to a brown earth pony trotting down the path, an hourglass cutie mark on his flank. “Is he here often?”

“Oh, yeah, I've seen him around town a few times. He's...um...I'm not actually sure,” she admitted, with an embarrassed chuckle. So much for knowing everypony. “Do you remember, Spike?”

The baby dragon shrugged, gulping down a spoonful of ice cream. “Um, I think...Time Turner? I hear he's a doctor of...I don't know, something. Maybe clocks?”

Mort was still staring at him, as if entranced. “You've seen him before, Mort?” she asked.

“Ten times, at least,” he said.

“Really? Wow! He must get around a lot, then!”

Mort sighed, sounding exhausted. “You have no idea.”

“Hmm...” Twilight scanned the park again, looking for other ponies to point out. While she recognized a few of them, and even recalled their names, there wasn't much else she could speak of. Who she really wanted to see, though, was a certain pegasus that just might give Mort an extra boost of confidence. Problem was, she didn't see even a hint of her anywhere.

Mort took notice of what she was doing, and asked, “Are you looking for someone?”

“Yeah,” she said, not able to hide her disappointment. “I just figured she'd be done with her route by now, and maybe be around here. I guess it was kind of a long shot, though.”

“Route?” he asked.

“Right. You see, she's—” Before she could finish, something suddenly fell from the sky and impaled itself on Mort's horn. The cloaked pony jumped in surprise, before he cautiously reached up and grabbed what had been skewered on his horn, cutting it cleanly in two as he pulled it off. It took the librarian a moment to realize it was a muffin.

Twilight glanced up, confirmed her fears, and jumped out of the way. Before she could shout a warning, it was too late. A large, bulging mail bag fell from the sky and landed on top of Mort, scattering letters and packages everywhere. When the shower of mail subsided, Mort was still standing in the same spot, holding the remains of a muffin, and wearing half-a-dozen envelopes on his horn.

Mort's response was a flat, “What.”

“Oh no, oh no!” Twilight watched as a gray blur flew down from the sky and stopped just above the three of them, looking at Mort in mortified embarrassment. “Are you okay, mister?” the blond pegasus asked, peeking from behind her forehooves.

“Um...yes,” he said, awkwardly. He glanced up at the letters stuck to him, flicking them with a hoof. “Um, are these yours?”

Spike snorted, almost choking on his ice cream. “Nice aim, Derpy!”

“She does have an uncanny aim,” Twilight recalled. She rubbed the top of her head as she remembered her first, painful encounter with that fact.

Derpy Hooves' face turned bright crimson. “Oh, I'm so sorry! That's never happened before! I just don't know what went wrong...”

Spike fished through the mountain of mail, looking at each letter. “Maybe it has something to do with the fact you stuffed your mail bag with...what the heck is this?” As he held up a box, its bottom suddenly gave out, releasing a bowling ball that fell on his foot. He squawked in pain, and started to hop on one foot as he blew on the other one.

“Oh...well, I guess I did have a lot of packages today,” she said sheepishly, as she repackaged the bowling ball. Noticing the letters on Mort's head, she slid the envelopes off his horn, smiling apologetically. “Um, you can keep the muffin, if you like. Think of it at as an apology, uh...um...”

“Mort,” he answered. “I'm visiting.”

“I'm actually in the middle of showing him around town,” Twilight added, as she began to gather up the loose envelopes with her magic, unconsciously organizing them by size and weight.

“Oh wow, that's great!” the mailpony squealed, landing on the ground. One eye stared straight at Mort, as the other stared at some, unseen corner. “I'm Derpy Hooves! Ponyville's number one mailmare! It's really nice to meet you!” She shook his hoof excitedly for a few seconds, causing the cloaked pony to soon grab his head.

Derpy let go, and asked, “Oh, are you okay? I didn't shake you too hard, did I?”

“N-no, I just got a little, uh, dizzy...” Mort shook his head, and for a moment Twilight swore he looked as walleyed as Derpy. When he refocused his eyes, they were glued to Derpy's own. “Um...say, uh...hm...well, how do I ask...?”

Derpy gave him a nonchalant smile. “It's my eyes, isn't it?”

Mort's own eyes shrunk, and his body stiffened. “Oh, no! I-I mean, yes, but I didn't mean to stare...um...oh, shoot...” He looked shamefully at his front hoofs, trying to hide behind his hood.

Derpy giggled. “It's okay! I'm not really worried about what anypony thinks of them, really. Not anymore.” She trotted next to Twilight, wrapping a foreleg over her shoulder. “You can thank Twilight for that,” she said appreciatively.

Twilight smiled back, glad to see how well the pegasus mare was doing. “Derpy Hooves has been Ponyville's mailmare for years now. You name it, she delivers it.”

"Wait, you said your name was...” Mort scratched his chin, looking thoughtful. "Did something happen between you two?"

“Uh huh,” Derpy said, nodding her head. “You see, the thing is I'm sometimes a little...clumsy.”

Mort glanced at the mail that still surrounded him. “I do see...”

Derpy gave a short, nervous laugh. “Well, usually it wasn't anything worse than maybe dropping something or tripping somewhere. Depth perception's kinda hard when you can't see straight all the time. But...”

Derpy paused for a moment, her smile faltering as she recalled what had happened. “But,” she continued, “it started happening so much I was getting called names, and even worse, nopony wanted to be around me. They were afraid I'd break something, or hurt them...”

Mort raised his head, staring sympathetically at Derpy. “That's awful,” he said.

She sighed, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, and it seemed the harder I tried not to be clumsy, the worse it got. I felt like I couldn't do anything right.”

“I know the feeling,” Mort intoned.

Derpy suddenly perked, and wrapped a foreleg around Twilight's shoulders. “But that's when I met Twilight,” she said, giving the unicorn a small squeeze. “When she found out what was going on, she wanted to help!”

“Well that's nice,” Mort said pleasantly. “I didn't know she kept up so much with how other ponies were doing.”

Twilight cleared her throat. “Er, actually, she dropped an encyclopedia on my head,” she said, rubbing at another spot on said head.

“That makes Derpy two for two,” Spike said, holding a pair of fingers up, as the other massaged his swollen foot.

Twilight shot Spike an annoyed look before she continued. “Well, Derpy was really upset when it happened, so when I was trying to calm her down, she told me what was happening. After I heard that, what else could I do but help her?”

Just as she was hoping, Mort was looking more engrossed by the story. “Um, how did you help her, by the way?” he asked.

“It all came down to confidence,” Twilight said. “I found that the more she was criticized, the worse she seemed to get. I finally figured out that so long as she was given encouragement alongside more constructive criticism, she would start doing better! It helped her relax and not worry about every, little thing she did—”

“Pretty surprising, coming from Twilight,” Spike remarked.

Twilight was ready to say something, but Derpy and Mort had also giggled at the little jab. Brushing it off, she continued. “—and it improved her self-esteem. I also had a little talk with someponies to let them know that they were hurting Derpy with how they acted, and to give her a chance. But most importantly...”

“Yes?” Mort leaned forward, looking expectantly at her.

She smiled knowingly. “Most importantly, I reminded her that she never did anything bad on purpose, to never think she would always hurt somepony, and that a few mistakes...”

“...doesn’t make her a bad pony,” Mort finished for her, saying the words sagely. Twilight nodded approvingly.

“Long story short, it's a lot better now!” Derpy said excitedly, her face beaming. “Some ponies even want me to come over for lunch sometime! I can't wait! I hope I can make lots of new friends, and...oh...” Her expression suddenly fell as she looked at the letters she had pulled off Mort. “Oh no...” she said sullenly.

“What is it?” Derpy held out the letters, and Twilight realized what had distressed the mailmare: all of them had a relatively large hole cut through them, courtesy of Mort's horn.

“Um, maybe they won't notice?” Spike said hopefully.

“I can't deliver them like this!” the pegasus moaned. “Not after everything that happened...”

“Not a problem, Derpy!” Twilight grabbed the letters with her magic, and levitated them in front of her. The cuts were large, but clean, and would be foal's play to repair. Even as the thought entered her mind, the paper was sealing itself, leaving no marks of ever being torn. Strange, though, that the cuts would be so thin and long. She would think a unicorn horn would leave a more circular hole...

Remembering the mailbag, she put the letters aside and went to work on it, restitching it as Rarity once taught her. In just a few seconds, the straps were reattached, looking as if they had never been torn at all. The envelopes and packages glowed as she carefully placed them all back inside the bag.

“Here you go!” the librarian said, displaying the full mailbag to the mailmare. “Good as new!”

“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” Derpy launched forward and wrapped her forelegs around Twilight, almost squeezing the breath out of her. “You're the best thing to ever happen to me! No, wait, maybe second best thing, or third, or...”

“How about, I'm one of the best things to happen?” she offered, eager for the equally eager mare to let go and let her breath.

“Yeah, that'll work, too!” Derpy released the unicorn, and took hold of the mailbag. “I'll be sure to go slower this time! Thanks again!”

Twilght smiled, feeling her heart swell. She still remembered how terrible she looked a few days ago, and it was great seeing her in such high spirits. “Hey, anything for a friend, right?”

Derpy nodded happily, and started to strap the mailbag around her shoulder. Twilight glanced to her right, and saw Mort staring at her. She couldn't help but feel a tad unsettled, once again unable to pin down his exact expression.

“What is it?” she asked him.

“You're really good at this,” he said, and now she was certain he was grinning. “Making a pony's life better, I mean.”

Twilight grinned, feeling her cheeks flush. She was really excited and hopeful that Derpy would keep making more friends in town. And their little meeting seemed to have helped Mort quite a bit too. Things might turn around today after all.

“Well,” Derpy said, beginning to take to the air, “I gotta get back to my route. I'll try and see you later, Twilight! And nice seeing you too, Spike.” She then dove back down, shaking Mort's hoof one more time. “And you're really lucky to have Twilight showing you around, Mort. I hope you enjoy your stay here.”

“Me too, Derpy. And, uh...thanks for the muffin,” he said, floating the two halves into his cloak.

Derpy Hooves waved at the three of them, and began to fly back into the air. Not ten feet from them, however, she suddenly stopped.

“Oh, one more thing!” she said, turning to face them.

“What?” Mort asked.

“I just wanted to say that your skull mask looks really cool.” Without another word, she took off, the bulging bag trailing behind.

Twilight arched an eyebrow, and looked at Mort. The stallion was frozen in place, his eyes seemingly even smaller than when the snakes invaded his cloak.

“'Skull mask'?” she questioned.

“Um...” Mort reached up to his hood, managing to pull it down even further. “J-just some slang for guys who, y-you know, paint their faces, uh, white, um, heh heh, kinda s-silly that she thought I...uh...” He cleared his throat loudly, and quickly said, “Anyway! Where to next?”

“Oh, uh...” She dwelled on Derpy’s comment a moment longer, before pushing it aside. She could never keep up with slang, anyway. “We're going to Sugarcube Corner next. I'm hoping we can get all my friends back together and plan something to do.”

“Sounds great!” he said, hurriedly. “So, what are we waiting for? Let's get trottin'!” He rushed past her, getting onto the path and heading back towards town, sometimes tripping a little on his cloak.

Spike climbed on top of her, resting his arms on her neck. “Uh, Twilight? Why do I feel like I'm missing something?”

Twilight didn't respond at first. She watched Mort hurry down the park path, as if trying to get away as quickly as possible. Once again, Derpy’s comment resounded in her head, and it wouldn't go away. She felt a familiar uneasiness creeping up on her.

“I'll let you know when I figure it out myself,” she answered uncertainly.

By the time all three of them were back in town, it was near noon. Spike rode on Twilight’s back, with Mort taking the lead, for once. The cloaked pony would sometimes glance back at them, give a brief look, then quickly face forward again. Twilight still wasn't sure what had him so spooked. Was there was more to the “skull mask” comment? She would have to ask her friends later. Maybe they had heard the slang somewhere before.

Her thoughts then turned to her scaly passenger. “Spike? Mort was right earlier; I am really proud of you. Especially with what you said to him. Thank you.”

The baby dragon shrugged casually. “Yeah, well...I still don't really trust him. Not a hundred percent, but I guess I could cut him a little slack. For you, anyway...”

It wasn't exactly what she had hoped to hear, but for now, it was enough. She craned her head back, just enough to rub against his cheek. “Oh, Twilight, not again! There's even more ponies here than the park!” He hid his face behind his hands, peeking out between his fingers. “Or not,” he said lamely.

Twilight stopped, and noticed for the first time that the streets were surprisingly deserted. At this time of day the residents would be in the middle of their errands and crowding the street. She hadn't seen hide or hair of anypony other than themselves.

She pushed the thought aside, and cantered up to Mort, eager to check up on him. “So, Mort,” she said, slowing so she could be beside him, “are you feeling better?”

The cloaked pony seem to stiffen in her presence, but once he turned his eyes to look at her, his walking relaxed and he gave a slow nod.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, “I'm feeling a lot better, actually. Thank you very much.”

“No thanks necessary,” she replied with a grin.

Mort looked at her a moment longer, before his horn glowed and the muffin halves floated from out of his cloak. He looked between the two halves, before putting away the smaller half and offering the larger one to Spike. “Want a muffin?

“Do I!” Spike snatched it out of the air, and started to chew on it greedily. “Hmm! I gotta tell Pinkie Pie about these! These would be great with some baked worms.”

Twilight blanched at the thought. “Anyway,” she said, trying not to get sick, “I was thinking that, maybe later today, we could swing back by the library? I have some books you might find really interesting.” And there were some books she really needed to look at herself.

“Really?” he asked, sounding surprised. “I-I mean, I don't know when I'd be able to give them back, I'm kinda all over the place...”

“I'm sure we could arrange something,” she said. “Speaking of what you want...is there anything in particular you want to do later?”

“Oh, um, I can't really decide,” he said uncertainly. “I did like how things were in the park. Maybe something...small and personal? Definitely relaxing.” He nodded, seeming surer of himself. “Yeah, something that isn't too hectic, not too loud or anything. Would that be all right?”

She paused for a moment, thinking about what they had planned. “So, nothing with too many ponies?”

“Uh, not right now.” He shook his head. “I'm still trying to get used to so many...um, noticing me, I guess.”

Twilight nodded, though at the same time thought about how Pinkie Pie had wanted to throw a 'huge party' for Mort. She might be a little disappointed, but then again, the pink pony might be just as happy, anyway. She was happy enough when it's just her friends. She could probably arrange something smaller no problem.

“Oh, here we are!” Sugarcube Corner came into view, with its iconic gingerbread roof and cupcake tower looming over them. Twilight was struck by how desolate the place was; usually there would at least be some ponies eating their food at the tables outside, but these were completely barren.

Mort whistled, impressed. “They did a pretty good job. That's not, uh...real food it's made of, right?”

“Um, no,” she replied, still bothered by the lack of ponies. “Spike found that out the hard way.”

“Twilight!” he whined. “You said you'd never tell!”

“Sorry,” she said, still distracted. “Where is everypony? It's usually a lot busier than this.”

“Maybe they're all inside?” Mort said, walking up the bubblegum pink steps, and knocking on the door three times. “Hello? Anypony there?”

Twilight looked at the windows of the shop, noticing how the drapes were pulled, preventing anyone from looking in. The silence emanating from the store was unnatural, the sort that had to be...

There was a click, and the door to the shop opened on its own. “Oh, thanks!” Mort said, and walked in.

Realization struck Twilight like a hammer, and she rushed after him. “Mort, wait!”

“What is it?” he asked, standing in the darkened room. “Say, is it always this dark?”

“Mort, you don't understand,” she said, coming through the door, barely noticing it shutting behind her. “I think Pinkie Pie—”

“SURPRISE!”

The lights came on in an instant, and Twilight found out why the streets looked so deserted: because every, single pony had crammed themselves into the shop. Tables were laid out with wrapped gifts, punch bowls, and plates piled with cupcakes, cookies, and other confectionery. Draped across the ceiling was a single banner, saying Welcome to Ponyville, Mort!

Mort voiced her thoughts well. “Oh no,” he whispered.

“HEY, MORT!” Pinkie Pie bounded on over to him, squeezing him in a tight hug. “I'm so glad you and Twilight could make it! I got about half of Ponyville here today, just so they could meet you and party with you!”

“H-half of Ponyville?” he stuttered, fright creeping into his voice. “Here?”

“Yep! It wasn't that hard at all, really! I mean, yeah, it’s way, waaay short notice, but I figured, hey, you're worth it, so I zoomed around Ponyville, grabbed as many ponies as I could, and here we are! Ready to knock your hooves off with the biggest, most exciting party EVER!”

Mort's eyes darted around the room, looking like a sheep in a den of wolves. “I...I...I...”

“Oh, you're speechless!” Pinkie Pie quickly got behind him, and began to shove him towards a group of ponies. “Here, let me introduce you to everypony! Oh, we're going to have so much fun!”

Twilight watched powerlessly as Pinkie Pie pushed the terrified pony over to the others, finding it remarkably similar to how she felt about her chances for the day going well, as well as her long-term future.

“Spike,” she droned.

“Yeah?” he replied, in a similar tone.

“There aren't really any stocks in Canterlot, right?”

Rarity and Fluttershy

Rarity sat huddled on the dressing room floor, sniffling as she beheld the task before her. On one side of her were the shoulder pads with their frayed tassels, the diamond-studded buttons and a single, chipped ruby. With them were over two dozen pieces of torn fabric, sewn together and arranged in such a way that they were beginning to resemble a sleeve. Rarity found some solace in the fact the gold thread helped her know where to start, like the round edges of a jigsaw puzzle.

But it was of little comfort, as the other side of her showed; there lay the rest of the suit, haphazardly piled. She levitated two pieces from the pile and brought them in front of her, bringing them together. She looked at them intently (or as well as she could, given her eyes could still water from the sight of them), swapping their positions, rotating them in place, going through every possible combination. When it became clear they didn't fit with one another, she moaned in a small, miserable voice, and threw one of the pieces back into the pile, before choosing another torn fabric that might fit.

It had been half-an-hour since Mort had come and gone from the boutique, leaving behind an absolutely crushed spirit. Rarity could handle clients who were disappointed with her designs. Even when her friends had a lukewarm reaction to their Gala dresses, she was able to take it mostly in stride, and work on “improving” them. While that had almost been a career-killing disaster, the point was she could handle criticism. And even if the clients didn't like a dress, she could; she had yet to sew anything she did not absolutely adore. (Five, particular dresses aside, that she wished everyday would disappear into the pages of fashion history and become little more than an urban myth.)

What she couldn't handle, though, was the sight of her work—a product of much study, effort and heart—being torn to utter shreds, and mere minutes after being displayed for the first time. Seeing Mort encircled in the remains of the suit was like watching her heart get torn our and stomped on, over and over again. Looking at the remains once everypony left, she couldn't bear to throw it all away, and instead went about trying to restore it.

A small, rational voice in the back of her mind was telling her that she should stop. That even if she could manage to find the exact location that each shred would need to be, and somehow sew it all back together, the result would never be satisfactory, nor worth all the time and effort required. But every time she even thought of stopping, she would remember how pristine the suit looked, how proud and sure she was of it, and then go right back to trying to repair it, unable to part with something she had worked so hard on.

Making matters worse, she couldn't stop thinking about why it had happened, and it lead to her constantly getting distracted from her current task. Sneaking in like she did was cheeky and, she admitted, rude of her, but did it really call for doing this? Wrinkling it, maybe ripping a sleeve to get it off...but destroying it so utterly? Part of her couldn't stop thinking that it wasn't an accident from hiding his appearance, but that instead it was some sort of punishment for trying to get a peek at him.

It would be incredibly cruel if true, but it wasn't an image she could reconcile with what she knew of Mort, as little as it was. And Luna certainly wouldn't pick a pony with such brutish behavior. But how could such destruction possibly be anything but intentional...?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the dressing room door. “Uh, Rarity? Are ya doin' okay in there?” a familiar voice drawled.

Rarity sighed, and took a moment to collect herself, wiping away fresh moisture from her eyes. Putting the fabrics down, she got up and strode towards the dressing room door. She stopped just in front of it, and used her horn to crack it open. She was met with Applejack's green eyes, staring levelly at her.

“Well?” the orange mare asked, arching an eyebrow.

Rarity hmphed.“I am just fine, Applejack, just as I've told you every other time you asked! I must insist that you leave me in peace.”

Applejack rolled her eyes. “Rarity, you gone and locked yerself up for over half-an-hour now! You ain't plannin' on stayin' inside all day, now are you?”

“No! Well, maybe...I-I just don't know!” she admitted with a huff. “It...just depends on how long this will take.”

“How long what will take?” Applejack's eyes glanced away from Rarity, trying to look behind the unicorn. Rarity slid to block her view, and continued to maneuver herself to keep the apple farmer from looking in.

After a minute of this, Applejack groaned and facehooved. “Rarity, what in tarnations are ya doin' in there?”

“It's none of your business!” Rarity said, curtly, flipping her mane with a wave of her head. “And I doubt you'd understand, anyway.”

Without taking her eyes off her, the farmer deadpanned, “Yer stitchin' that suit back together, ain't ya?”

Rarity let out a tight, little gasp. “How did you know?!”

“Ah know ya a bit better then ya might think, missy.” Applejack shrugged, and with a smirk added, “Not to mention ya just told me, anyway.”

Rarity bristled slightly, her face flushing with embarrassment. Utterly foalish, and she fell for it.

“Now can Ah come in?” the earth pony asked, sounding exasperated.

Rarity thought of shooing her back outside, but she didn't see the point. If she kept her out, Applejack would just keep pounding on the door while berating about what she was doing, and the farmer could easily be heard from behind the door if she wanted to. If she let her in, though, Applejack wouldn't have to keep raising her voice, she wouldn't have a door to pound on, and she might give Rarity a little silence if she saw how concentrated the fashionista was.

She sighed tiredly, and stood back, opening the door the rest of the way. Applejack gave her a courteous nod, and wasted no time trotting in, making a beeline for where the remains of the suit were. Rarity felt her coat stand on end as Applejack got closer to her work, and in an instant was across the room, barring the earth pony from going any further.

“Ah ah ah! Not one step further, Applejack!” she admonished. “You're going to disturb some very delicate work here!”

Applejack glanced down at the work area, and shook her head. “As it is, Rarity, Ah don't think I could do much more to that get up than what's been done already.” She sighed, and Rarity couldn't help but feel a little irritated by it. “For pity's sake, Rarity, yer goin' to be in here forever trying to make somethin' from all that! You barely got a sleeve!”

“For your information, I'm confident I'll be piecing a shoulder together very soon!” It took a moment for her rash reply to sink in, and Rarity's face turned even redder than before. Seething between her teeth, she said, “Just let me do this, Applejack! The act of dress making—or in this case, suit making,” she said, under her breath, “is an art! How could I so callously abandon something I've put my very heart and soul into?” She couldn't help but add the theatrical flare at the end.

“Well, it's mighty easy, actually!” Applejack responded, simply. She walked around the bewildered beauty and took the sewn sleeve into her mouth. “All ya godda do is—”

“Applejack, you spit that sleeve out right this minute!” In a flash Rarity bit down on the frayed end, trying to pull it away from the earth pony, but Applejack simply tugged in the opposite direction. Rarity responded in kind, and soon the two of them were involved in a tug-of-war using a tattered sleeve.

“'Et go 'is insan!” Rarity mumbled through the fabric, glaring daggers at the farmer. She should have known Applejack would pull something like this. Always going for a quick and dirty solution.

“Es a 'aste o' 'ime!” Applejack responded in kind, almost dragging the unicorn with each tug.

The two of them kept at it, rotating in circles as they tried to get the upper hoof. Applejack may have been one of the strongest ponies in the town, but Rarity wasn't a pushover by any means, and she wasn't about to let Applejack get her way. For every gain Applejack got from sheer force, Rarity got it back by pulling in a direction that almost made the earth pony stumble.

She wasn't going to find out which of them would give, though, because the sleeve gave first.

With a mighty rip the stitches finally gave out, and the two of them went rolling in opposite directions. Applejack collided with a rack of dresses, tipping it over on top of herself and bringing with it nearly a dozen hat boxes that were stacked on top.

Rarity didn't have time to feel mortified about what happened to those dresses. She was too preoccupied with the lancing pain she felt when her flank landed right on top of her pin cushion. She squealed and sat up quickly, shooting a smoldering look at the pin cushion that clung to her like a prickly seed. Her horn flared and she pried it off, gritting her teeth as she did so. She dropped it on the ground, and rubbed her sore flank.

Her eyes fell on the sleeve that was now in the same state as when she started: torn to pieces. She barely suppressed a growl as she floated the remains to her eyes before sending a withering glare at the toppled clothes rack.

“Well, I hope you're happy!” she snapped, marching towards it. “Now I have to start all over again! You can be so...so uncouth, Applejack!”

She stood there, waiting for the apple farmer to rise from the now wrinkled and maybe torn dresses, offering a similar retort. Instead the pile of clothes remained motionless, with not the faintest hint of movement going on underneath.

“Applejack?” Rarity bit her lip, feeling her earlier anger drain. Now that she thought about it, those racks could be awful heavy sometimes, and as many dresses as there were, not all of them were too thick. They wouldn't offer too much cushioning from something heavy falling down.

“A-Applejack?” Concern made its way into her voice, and she got closer to the pile, getting more anxious as time went by with no sound from the farmer. “Are you okay, dear?” She reached out a tentative hoof. “C-come now, say something al—”

She scooted back in fright as the clothes suddenly erupted upward, sending dresses every which way. Something crawled out from the garment pile, and the sight of it made Rarity's jaw drop.

It was Applejack, but it was Applejack in one of Rarity's most bombastically frilly, jewel encrusted, ribbon covered, flowery and yellow gowns. It hid nearly every aspect of Applejack, save her forelegs and her head, the latter of which was also sporting a large, wide brimmed hat that was practically overrun with flowers on top.

The earth pony wobbled on her hooves in a daze, before clearing the stars out of her head with a shake. Her eyes rolled up, finally taking notice of the hat's rim that nearly shadowed her face, and was soon discovering what else she wore. She let out a little yelp in shock, staring at the frilly dress in utter bafflement, before turning to look at Rarity.

The sight of Applejack in the dress, and her reaction to it, had an immediate effect. Rarity's earlier shock was quickly replaced by an uncontrollable mirth. A snort grew into a snicker, which then grew into full blow laughter as the unicorn collapsed on her knees, barely able to catch her breath.

“A-A-Applejack,” she gasped out, barely able to get a word out, “o-oh my goodness! You're s-so...so...” Rarity tried to suppress another round of laughter, but only succeeded in holding back a moment longer before succumbing again, tears beginning to trickle down her cheeks.

She caught sight of the farmer glaring daggers at her, and for a moment she felt a pang of guilt about the earlier guffaw. But a moment later Applejack's face softened, and she smiled back.

“Heh.” Applejack smiled in embarrassment. “Ah guess I look a little ridiculous, huh...?”

“A l-little,” Rarity replied, finally bringing herself back up under control as she got back on her hooves. Yellow just wasn't a good color with that fur, and there were plenty of other styles that worked so much better with her.

Applejack whipped the large hat off and scrounged through the pile of clothing until she found her Stetson, which she put on with evident relief. She looked down at where she had dug it up, and her eyes caught something. She reached down and used a hoof to scoop up one half of the torn sleeve.

“Welp, Ah guess that makes two of us, huh?” she retorted slyly.

Rarity felt a momentary flare of indignation, but the earlier mirth she felt had cleared her mind and wafted away the bit of misery she had been feeling until then. Looking at the torn cloth made her reevaluate just what she had been doing until now.

“I guess it does,” she conceded with a sigh, and returned her own embarrassed smile. “I'm so sorry about all that, Applejack. When it comes to my work I tend to...well, lose my head.”

“Happens to the best of us, Rarity,” Applejack said, with a dismissive hoof wave. “Ah'm just glad we didn't have to put Opal in a tree this time.”

Rarity giggled at the memory. Her horn lit up as she lifted the torn sleeve off of Applejack's hoof, and threw it behind her, towards where the rest lay. Watching it flutter to the ground, she again felt a longing to see the suit back to its pristine state, but it wasn't as strong as before.

“So,” she started, trotting up to where the torn fabric was, “what am I to do with you now?”

“Only thing you can do.” Applejack moved towards the corner of the room, her teeth grasping something that had been leaning against it. She came back to Rarity, pushing across the floor a small trashcan, with a brush and dustpan held in her mouth. She stopped in front of Rarity, dropped the cleaning supplies in front of the unicorn, then nudged them forward with her snout. She stood back up to give Rarity an expectant look.

Rarity bit her lip, her eyes switching between the trash can and the remains of the suit. With reluctance, she levitated the brush and dustpan over to where the scraps of cloth were, and began to sweep the remains up, each stroke of the brush carrying the same hesitation she felt when digging in the diamond dog mines.

A few, agonizing moments later, everything save the diamonds and jewels were piled high in the dustpan. She hovered it near the trashcan, and couldn't help but look pleadingly at Applejack, hoping perhaps the earth pony would change her mind, or encourage her to do something else. The farmer simply gave a firm shake of her head.

Swallowing hard, she moved it the final, few inches needed to get it over the can's mouth, and with a little whinny, she tilted it, the torn rags tumbling out and into the trashcan.

Releasing a shaky breath, Rarity returned the cleaning utensils and trashcan to where they were, and offered a weak smile to Applejack. The farmed nodded approvingly.

“Feelin' better?” she asked.

Rarity considered telling her she wasn't, but as she looked at the now clean floor, and the corner of the room where she put everything away, she realized that a weight she didn't realize she had, wasn't there anymore.

“I...actually do,” she said, somewhat astonished, and very relieved.

Applejack winked at her. “There, ya see? Ah know how ya are with yer dresses and everythin', Rarity, but they ain't nothin' to get so worked up over. Heck, you could probably sew something twice as good in half the time from scratch, now that ya got a stab at makin' them in the first place.”

“Hmm...” Rarity tapped her chin in thought. “Well, to be honest I did have a couple of ideas...”

“That can wait until after today,” Applejack interjected, quickly. “We still gotta be helpin' Twilight show Mort 'round, remember?”

Rarity gasped, suddenly remembering what had started the whole chain of event. “Oh my goodness, don't tell me they've all been waiting this entire time?”

“Nah, nah, don' worry, Ah had them go on ahead of us.” She fidgeted in the gown, looking at it uncomfortably. “A good thing too, Ah think.”

“Yes, I'd hate for these self-pity sessions of mine to put a halt to everyone's fun. We should...” She stopped herself, the image of Mort, surrounded by tatters, stuck in her head. “Uh...that is, you should go on ahead. I can just stay here and tidy up. Don't wait on my account.”

Applejack tilted her head quizzically. “What about you?”

“Oh, well...I mean...” She tried to think of a good excuse, but the way Applejack bore into her made such a thing nearly impossible to do. Even the smallest fib would sound utterly weak under those eyes. She sighed in defeat, her head slumping forward. “I'm sorry, Applejack. I'm afraid my presence would only give rise to some...tension, with our guest.”

“What, ya mean Mort?” Rarity nodded, and Applejack gave a little pfft in response. “You kiddin' me? That feller looked sorrier than Winona when I catch her in my duds. He actually wanted to stick around 'cause of what happened.”

“Really?” she said in disbelief. “But...I mean, after what I did, and after what he did to my suit, I would think...”

“Come on, now, Ah hardly think he meant to do anything like that. Ah just think ya spooked the poor guy when ya tried to get a look at him. Unicorn magic can be might crazy, after all.”

Rarity stomped one hoof indignantly, feeling a little insulted. “Really, Applejack! We unicorns do have more than a modicum of control over our magic! It's hardly 'crazy', as you put it!”

“Now, now, Ah didn't mean anything by it!” Applejack said hastily, trying to simmer the unicorn. “Ah'm just sayin' it can sometimes be a bit, well, unpredictable. You 'member Twi' and Spike just poppin' out of thin air that one time in the library, right? After bein' chased all over town?”

“So you think it was just an accident?” Rarity considered the possibility briefly. Unicorn magic was usually at its most uncontrollable in early foalhood, and as unicorns grew older, their magic began to stabilize more and more, and by then even the most frightening situations would barely elicit a spark.

Still, Applejack had a point: even Twilight had exhibited uncontrolled spurts of magic at least a couple times, gifted as she was, and Mort seemed to be a rather panicky sort. He had so many issues to start with, poor horn control wouldn't be that hard to believe.

“I...suppose that makes sense,” she said, finally. “Well, if that is the case, the best thing to do would be to patch things up, wouldn't it? Staying here certainly wouldn't help.”

“Now that's what Ah'm talkin' about!” Applejack got beside her and patted her shoulder lightly. “So, how 'bout we head on out of here and try to catch up? Ah think Fluttershy was goin' to take him over to her cottage later.”

“Absolutely!” she said, getting ready to march on, but she was given pause as her eyes caught the rack that was still laying on the ground, along with a pile of dresses and a number of boxes and hats. “Uh, but first...I think we should clean up.” She looked at Applejack, and barely stifled a giggle before adding, “And get you out of that gown!”

Applejack's eyes widened in realization, her hooves traveling over the gown to reaffirm its existence. Her cheeks went red, and she proceeded to take the gown off as Rarity started to hang the other dresses back up. “Er, Ah am kinda curious, though...”

“Yes, dear?”

“Did you happen to see anything?” Applejack asked, wiggling out of the dress.

“I'm afraid not,” Rarity sighed, sliding another hanger into the neck of a dress. “Honestly, Applejack, I really would have walked out, but he just sounded so sad. Like he really thought I wouldn't be friends with him just because of what he looked like. I know I didn't come in with the purest of motives, but I really did want to help him.”

“Welp, that's a fight for another day, from the looks of it.” Applejack came over with the dress in her mouth, and Rarity was grateful to see that, though it was a clumsy effort, the dress was folded up. Applejack plopped it in front of her and said, “You gave us quite the scare, though.”

Rarity gave her a confused look. “What do you mean?”

“What do Ah mean? You screamed bloody murder, practically! Ah know you care an awful lot about your clothes an' everything, but still...”

“I didn't scream because of that, dear, it was...” Rarity trailed off, as she tried to remember what Applejack was talking about. She had screamed about something, but that was before she saw what Mort had done. Leading up to it, though, she had been following him around the room as he dragged the changing screen with him. He stopped in front of a window, then...

That was when things got fuzzy. She saw something. A shadow, but it wasn't a normal shadow. There was something wrong with it. Was it Mort's shadow? The neck was unusually thin, and it may have had ridges going up and down its length. And the head...it was slim, though not as extreme as the neck, and it didn't have a mane. The horn was odd too. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more it all looked almost...

“Rarity?”

The unicorn gasped as something poked her. “What?!”

“Whoah, calm down there!” Applejack's hoof was retreating, as she cast a concerned expression on her friend. “Sorry, you were just starin' an' everything. Didn't know what to make of it. You okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yes, I'm fine...” What was she thinking about again? She had screamed about something, but it all seemed so distant now, even though it had happened less than an hour ago. The harder she tried to remember, the foggier it got. She rubbed her head, half-expecting a migraine to present itself. “I'm sorry, dear, I don't know what came over me. What were we talking about?”

“You screamed about something...?”

“Right, it was...oh, I don't know,” she sighed. “It was probably over something ridiculous. A spider, or something. Let's just get this mess cleaned up, all right?” She had a sudden desire to drop the subject, and wanted to focus on more immediate matters. If she couldn't remember, it couldn't have been that important to begin with.

Applejack's skeptical eyes remained on her a moment longer, as if ready to push the issue, but instead the farmer shrugged. “If you say so,” she said, and got back to work.

It took a while, if only because Rarity had to make sure the dresses and hats were properly organized by size and style, but eventually everything had been put away. Rarity's attempts to have Applejack try on a sleeveless, blue dress she had found was met with strong, though not unexpected, resistance.

“We don't got time to be playin' dress up, Rarity,” Applejack huffed as she walked out the front door of the boutique.

“Oh, but it wouldn't even take ten minutes, dear!” she called ahead, closing the boutique door behind her before chasing after Applejack. “It's quite a simple dress, not really all that 'frou-frou', and I really think you could pull it off nicely. Orange and blue do make for a rather striking contrast.”

“Contrast schmontrast, far as Ah'm concerned that get up I had filled out my dress quota for the month.”

“I'm being serious, Applejack, you could really turn some—”

“HEADS UP!”

The two of them turned to the source, and heeded the warning just in time as a lavender pegasus with a golden yellow mane swooped over them, missing by a wingspan. The sudden gust took off Applejack's hat and disheveled Rarity's mane. The two of them shot a dirty look at the pegasus, and Rarity spotted the partially clouded sun that adorned the perpetrator's flank.

“Cloud Kicker!” she yelled up at her, bristling. “You should know better than to fly so close! Just look at what you did to me!” Her horn flared, and she attempted to straighten her mane and tail back out as best she could. She would need to run back inside for a comb if she couldn't get it untangled.

“I'm sorry, Rarity,” the weatherpony replied regretfully, descending towards them. “I was just in a hurry. Swoops like that help you go places, you know? I, uh, kinda overdid it this time and almost flew into that big tree over there. You're not hurt, are you?”

“Just a little frazzled, Kicker,” Applejack told her, a hint of annoyance in her voice. She picked her hat back up, giving it a quick dust off before putting it back on. “Why you in such a rush, anyway?”

“Oh, well, I'm always in a rush when it comes to Pinkie Pie's parties,” the pegasus replied with a smile.

The two friends looked at each other, sharing the same, anxious look. “Uh, Cloud Kicker,” Rarity began, trying to keep her voice level, “did you find out, er, why Pinkie Pie's throwing a party now?”

“Like she ever needed a real reason? Although...” The pegasus scratched her chin, her eyes looking upward in thought. “I'm pretty sure it had something to do with a new pony in town. I think it was something like...Wort? Tort? Port?”

“Mort,” the two of them said dejectedly.

“Oh, yeah! That's it!” Cloud Kicker exclaimed. “Anyway, Pinkie Pie's 'Welcome' parties are always the best! You two should swing by! See ya there!” Without another word, the pegasus took off, leaving the two of them in a heavy silence.

“She's...throwing the party?” she said finally in disbelief. “Now?”

“Er, Rarity?” Applejack asked, slowly. “Correct me if Ah'm wrong, but...weren't that party supposed to be later? Say, much later? To give the feller time to get used to everypony an' all that?”

“Oh, this is terrible!” Rarity exclaimed, clopping her cheeks. “Something must have gone terribly wrong for Pinkie Pie to do it now! I...I don't even want to think about what could've moved things up so quickly!” After Rarity, the schedule was to have Fluttershy introduce her animals, have lunch at Applejack's farm, let Rainbow Dash perform her aerial stunts, and then throw a party to finish it off. Applejack's part obviously couldn't be done with her at the boutique, but that still left Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash. Something had to have happened with the two of them, but she couldn't imagine what in such a short time frame.

And that wasn't all. If Mort's magic had a tendency to destroy objects within his vicinity in a panic, she didn't want to think what sort of chaos might occur with dozens of ponies, tables, presents and foodstuffs surrounding him.

Applejack stomped her hoof, frustration hanging on her every word. “Great! So Pinkie Pie's throwin' a party fer a pony that'll probably panic and go plum loco in the place! That's just perfect!”

Rarity's thoughts about the consequences were momentarily derailed, and she cocked an eyebrow at the earth pony. “I never knew you were one for alliteration, Applejack.”

“Allita-what?”

*******

Rainbow Dash strained her eyes as she looked at the winding trails and green foliage below. She was flying at a pace that was, for her, agonizingly slow, but she had little choice in the matter. What she was searching for wasn't easy to find when moving at breakneck speeds. (Breakneck for non-pegasi, anyway.) And she definitely wasn't going to return to Fluttershy empty hoofed.

Fluttershy's mood had undergone a major shift between when Rainbow Dash talked to Twilight, and when she caught up to the caretaker. She had thought the other pegasus was upset, but by the time they got to the cottage, that had been replaced by something bordering on anger and fear.

When Fluttershy had returned to her cottage with the decidedly less antagonistic, furry orchestra in tow, she had ordered them all to march inside. Rainbow Dash could only remember a couple times Fluttershy had ordered any creature. Even the red dragon from what seemed to be so long ago had received what was more of a severe scolding than actual commands.

After that she had proceeded, for some reason, to gather up all the animals she could, even the ones that had their own little homes or pens, and place them indoors.

Fluttershy then told Rainbow Dash to go around and gather some of the further strays, and though Rainbow Dash was confused as to why she wanted to do so, the hard and almost desperate look she got from the pegasus had squashed any notion of questioning. Like a machine, she had zoomed around the woods, finding each and every critter Fluttershy requested, and depositing them on the cottage doorstep, where Fluttershy would usher them inside. Rainbow Dash had found each woodlander in the span of a few seconds.

Save one. And considering what it was, she was starting to get very irritated at her inability to find it.

Rather conveniently, her expository, mental recap of events had ended just as she found her quarry, racing across the dirt path below at a speed of 0.2 miles per hour. Smirking in triumph, she dropped out of the sky like a stone, and landed on all fours directly in front of her target. She was one for making entrances, after all.

“Got ya!” she brayed loudly, smirking triumphantly at the creature.

The freshwater turtle stopped, one foot hovering off the ground, and took a moment to regard her with a blank, almost bored, expression. It blinked both eyes at her once, then went back to walking, this time altering course just enough that it would take him around the pegasus with the least amount of effort.

Rainbow Dash was a little taken back by the lukewarm response, and furrowing her brows, she leaped again in front of the turtle. “I said got ya!” she exclaimed again, a little louder.

After she came down, it inched itself a little to the right. The turtle didn't look at her, nor did it even pause. She frowned, feeling indignant that she was being ignored, though a moment later it turned into a little grin. She snickered, and inched to her left, bringing her head down low enough to be almost level with the turtle.

“You think you're hot stuff, huh?” she said, and with a hoof gently twirled the turtle until it was facing the opposite direction. It craned its neck around to give her what might have been a disgruntled look. It surprised her, and she grinned apologetically at him.

“Aw, don't be like that,” she cooed, then used both hoofs to lift the turtle up. She lay on her back, adjusting her wings to be comfortable, and held the turtle up above her. The turtle gave a cursory look around, and began to move its legs like it was trying to walk. Or fly.

Her grin grew wider. Having Tank around had given her a new appreciation for the hard-shelled reptiles. While they were still unbearably slow (unless equipped with a magically powered helicopter, of course), she had to admire the sheer tenacity they all shared. They didn't care about how far something was or what obstacles were in the way. It was almost impossible to get them down.

Maybe when things calmed down, she could talk Fluttershy into letting her bring him home. Tank could always use the company. It'd be like giving him a little brother.

“Yer all right, squirt,” she said affectionately. Sitting back up, she carefully balanced the turtle on top of her head, until it was laying flat against her skull. “Hey, how 'bout I give you a ride back to Fluttershy's? Just don't, y'know, pee on me.”

The turtle, of course, didn't respond. Getting back on all four hooves, Rainbow Dash trotted leisurely back to Fluttershy's cottage, making sure to keep her head steady so the turtle wouldn't fall. One day, though, she wanted to show it real speed.

Fluttershy's cottage was quiet. Although far from a noisy place, given its curator, on any other day one could still hear the chirping of its birds, or the squeaks of its smaller animals. At the very least one could hear the sound of splashing water from the occasional duck, or the rustling of leaves or bushes as some creature moved through them.

Now, however, there wasn't a peep from anything. The animal haven had gone deathly silent, and it was beginning to give Rainbow Dash the creeps as she approached it. She didn't even hear the chickens, and she couldn't recall a time they ever shut up.

Approaching the front door cautiously, Rainbow Dash gave a few, quick knocks. “Fluttershy?” she called. She waited for a response, but heard nothing from the other side. She pressed an ear to the door, but could only make out an occasional chirp from some animal inside. Feeling more nervous than she thought she ought to be, she opened the door and walked in, but stopped in the doorway to stare at the scene before her.

Nearly every, square inch of Fluttershy's ground floor had been taken by the animals. A family of rabbits had huddled on top of a couch, sharing it with some ferrets, weasels and a couple of skunks. Underneath the couch were some of the snakes, coiled around each other to make room for the porcupines. Birds were crowding around the birdhouses that hung from the ceilings, and the chipmunks and squirrels were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder along the tiny, flight of steps that spiraled towards their holes in the ceiling.

There were also chickens, raccoons, possums, foxes, moles, mice, rats, a couple badgers and a plethora of other creatures that Rainbow Dash had no hope of picking out or distinguishing from their seemingly superficial cousins.

Most striking of all, of course, was the complete lack of Fluttershy.

She took the turtle from her head and lay him on the floor, never taking her eyes off the collection of animals all staring at her solemnly. The atmosphere of the room was subdued, and Rainbow Dash couldn't help but feel her own mood dampened at the same time.

“So, uh, hey,” she started, looking at the other occupants, “would any of you happen to know where Fluttershy is?”

There was silence. Then, a quiet, muffled sob was heard from above. Across the room, several dozen pairs of eyes glanced up towards the ceiling where Fluttershy's bedroom would be.

“Yeah, I was afraid of that.” Rainbow Dash made her way towards the staircase, the animals shuffling to the sides to form a makeshift path for her.

She went up the stairs, and at the top of the steps saw Angel. The rabbit was hiding behind one of the railings, peeking his head around to anxiously look at something in the room. Rainbow Dash had a good idea of what—or rather, who—it was.

When the rabbit took notice of her, he immediately hopped to the center of the top step, holding his arms out in an attempt to bar any entry into the room. He shot Rainbow Dash a fierce look (or at least, fierce for a bunny), and pointed back down the stairs where she came from.

Rainbow Dash frowned. The rabbit was crazy if he thought he was going to order the pegasus around, especially when he was the cause of this whole mess in the first place. She narrowed her eyes and took on a more rigid posture, making it clear she wasn't going anywhere.

The stand off between the two was broken by another sob from the bedroom. Angel looked towards the source, then back to Rainbow Dash, who continued to stare at him patiently. Angel balled his little fists, trying to outstare the young flier, but his composure kept faltering as his eyes kept darting between Rainbow Dash and the bedroom.

There was another choked sob, and that was it: the rabbit sagged in defeat, his ears flopping over his face, and he moved aside, gesturing for the other pegasus to go in. Rainbow Dash gave a curt nod and walked up the rest of the stairway.

Unlike the ground level, the bedroom was completely devoid of any animal, and that was most likely because of the room's owner. Fluttershy lay curled up on the bed, her head buried in a large pillow that was getting wet with tears. Occasionally there would be a wheeze and more crying, and the yellow pegasus would hug the pillow tighter, as if to silence the sound.

It was a hard to watch, and Rainbow Dash felt her insides twisting around as the pegasus kept crying. It wasn't easy seeing Fluttershy cry. The natural demure of the yellow pegasus always made the occasions uncomfortable to watch, no matter the reason. Swallowing nervously, she slowly approached the bed, and made sure to keep her voice low as she tried to speak.

“Uh...” Rainbow Dash cleared her throat. “Fluttershy? Are you okay?” The weatherpony winced slightly at her own question, knowing her friend was obviously not “okay”. “What's wrong?”

Fluttershy lifted her head from the pillow and wailed, “She's going to take them awaaay...” She shoved her face back into the pillow, crying with even more vigor.

Rainbow Dash forced a smile, and asked, “What are you talking about?” She hopped onto Fluttershy's bed and carefully sat at the foot of it. “Who's going to take who away?”

There was some sniffling, and Fluttershy pushed herself up, still clutching the pillow tightly between her forelegs. Her wings were hanging limply on her back and her normally straight mane was in complete disarray. Her eyes were red and puffy, the surrounding fur matted with moisture.

Choking back some sobs, she said, “L-Luna. W-when she finds out what happened, she'll...s-she'll move all the animals out of Ponyville, o-or lock them in cages, or maybe make them go into to the Ever...free...” A fresh batch of tears pooled in her eyes and she brought the pillow up to her face, unleashing another round of sobs. “S-she just can't, Rainbow!” the yellow pegasus cried. “C-Coils and Rattle get cold so easily, Jennifur has to take special vitamins every night, P-Poe still has a bad wing...”

Fluttershy continued on about why the animals couldn't leave, citing everything from medical complications to social anxiety. The rainbow maned pegasus scratched the back of her head, feeling more uncomfortable and lost with every passing moment. She was used to making ponies feel better with tricks, stunts or standing up to their would be oppressors. There were no bullies this time, though, and what happened wasn't going to be swept away by her aerial feats. Fluttershy needed somepony to cheer her up and Rainbow Dash felt completely out of her element.

Didn't mean she couldn't try, though.

She tentatively raised one foreleg, and wrapped it around Fluttershy in what she hoped was a reassuring manner. She awkwardly rubbed back and forth over Fluttershy's shoulders, and after a few moments of this, it seemed to have the intended effect of calming her. She started to lean on Rainbow Dash, her crying becoming softer until it was just a few sniffles.

She looked up from her pillow again, sniffled, and offered a weak smile. “Thank you,” she wheezed.

“Hey, no sweat,” Rainbow Dash boasted, feeling she was on firmer ground than before. “That's what friends are for, right?” She cleared her throat. “Uh, you...feeling better?”

“Um...not really,” she admitted, shaking Rainbow Dash's earlier confidence. She wiped some tears from her puffy eyes. “I-I'm glad you're here, and I feel a teensy bit better but...” Her body quivered, and she choked out, “I'm just so scared.”

“Hey, come on,” she started, enforcing an assured tone, “you keep making it sound like it's the end of the world or something. Thing's will be okay. Really!”

Fluttershy gave her a doubtful look, a frown permeating her face.

Not ready to give up yet, Rainbow Dash pushed on. “I mean, it's not like they hurt Mort all that much. He wasn't even limping the last time I saw him.”

“It doesn't matter if he wasn't,” Fluttershy mumbled miserably. “They attacked him, and it was just...awful. He didn't even do anything, Rainbow! Nothing I did was stopping them, and...” Fluttershy whimpered pitifully, and once again there seemed to be a fresh line of moisture building in her eyes.

Determined not to let Fluttershy become even more miserable, Rainbow Dash quickly tried to think of something else to say. Her mind reeled all the way back to the original attack, remembering how the rabbit had acted when he was brought close to Mort. Now that she thought about it, he looked...

“Um, hey!” she said, quickly. “I just had a thought! Maybe, uh...maybe they only attacked him because they were really...scared of him, or something!”

“Scared?” Fluttershy whispered, just short of crying again.

“Y-yeah, scared!” the flier answered, now just starting to see where she wanted to go. “Think about it! It's not like they went after him because they were mean or anything, they just got freaked out!”

Fluttershy wiped her eyes. “A-and...?”

“Well...I mean, it's kinda important if they were just scared,” Rainbow Dash said, hiding her own uncertainty. “You can't blame them if they did something because they got spooked or anything. The mayor didn't do anything to the rabbits that one time they stampeded, right?”

“Um, no,” Fluttershy conceded, looking a little calmer than before. “I...I just told her that they got frightened by Applejack and Winona.”

“Exactly!” Rainbow Dash interjected. “And...well, yeah, they were just baby rabbits, but they still ate a lot of food and tore up a bunch of gardens and the like. But they never came down on you at all for that.”

“I...guess so,” Fluttershy said slowly.

“So what about Angel and the others? They were kinda scared too, right?”

“Um...” Fluttershy tilted forward to look around Rainbow Dash. The cyan pegasus leaned back and followed her eyes, seeing Angel standing by the stairway, keeping his own eyes locked on his feet. “I...did try to ask Angel what had happened, but I had a hard time understanding him. He did sound a little scared.”

“Well, there you have it.”

“But I don't see why...?”

“Well, Mort just...comes off like that,” Rainbow Dash said, after a pause. “Remember when he got here? I...er, I mean, you were kinda scared too, right?” she asked, hoping Fluttershy didn't notice her verbal slip.

“Uh...yes,” Fluttershy said, embarrassed. Although she sounded meek as always, she at least didn't sound like she was on the verge of breaking down again. Rainbow Dash felt a little relief at the progress she was making. “But...he's really not that scary.”

“Well, yeah, we know that because we've been hanging out with him.” Not to mention watching him stumble around in his robe and with his words. He was even more awkward than Fluttershy was in flight camp. “But they've never seen him before. He does look kinda shady at a glance. Maybe they thought...”

She was ready to explain, when a better idea sprung to mind. Something that might lighten the mood enough to break her out of this. Shooting Fluttershy a playful look, she dramatically cleared her throat, and began to imitate Mort's scrawny voice.

“Ooh, I am Mort!” she started menacingly (or as menacingly as one could with a voice like that), drawing a small grin from the other pegasus. “I'm hear to take Fluttershy away from ALL you mangy animals and do all sorts of unspeakable things! Like, like...” She feigned uncertainty and begun to dig her hooves around her body in mid air, as if searching for something. “Oh, where did those cards go? I know I had them somewh-oof!” She lost her balance and fell forward on her chin, eliciting a startled gasp from Fluttershy. Thinking quickly, and trying to ignore the soreness in her own chin, Rainbow Dash quickly added, “Oh, dumb cloak! Why did I make you so long?”

Fluttershy looked blankly at her, and Rainbow Dash feared she might have taken it too far, but then the yellow pegasus broke into a smile and began to laugh, trying to muffle the sound with her pillow.

“R-Rainbow, that's just mean!” she said, before breaking into giggles. “Y-you shouldn't talk like that about ponies behind their b-back...”

“Aw, come on, it's just a bit of fun,” Rainbow Dash said, getting back on her hooves. She glanced at Angel, and saw the rabbit giving her an incredibly sour look, obviously unamused. “Now imagine Mort doing that, but with a long, curly mustache.”

Fluttershy broke into even bigger laughter, and Rainbow Dash followed suit shortly after, the image of Mort evilly twirling a long, black mustache taking up her imagination.

“W-with...” Fluttershy abandoned the pillow, trying to suppress the chuckles and giggles forcing their way out. “M-maybe, if he did it with a big, top hat...”

“Oh geeze, that's perfect!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed, losing control and rolling on the floor, her eyes tearing up. She began to belt out laugh after laugh, and Fluttershy followed in her own, graceful manner.

It kept going like this for a few minutes, though to Rainbow Dash it felt much longer. By the time she became too breathless to laugh, she pulled herself up and looked expectantly at Fluttershy. Like she hoped, Fluttershy was looking much happier, and any tears she had were from the earlier, ludicrous images.

“So, like I was saying,” she said, after taking a deep breath, “you shouldn't have to worry so much. I mean, okay, so what if Luna did find out? She's pretty cool now! I mean, we did kinda save her and everything, so I'm sure she can cut us a little slack, especially you of all ponies.”

She walked over to a dresser, searching for and finding a lone hairbrush that she grabbed in her teeth and brought back over to the bed. “Inne'ay...” Rainbow Dash grumbled and spat the brush out next to Fluttershy. “Anyway, I bet Mort's over it already.”

“I don't know,” she said uncertainly. Eying the hairbrush, Fluttershy grasped Rainbow Dash's intent and bent down grab it in her mouth, where she proceeded to brush her disheveled mane. “'E in't 'ook oo ha'y...”

“Well,” Rainbow Dash started, drawing the word out, “if he isn't happy, then somepony's gotta set the record straight about Angel and the others, right?”

“Oh, yes!” Fluttershy dropped the brush onto the bed and slid off. “I don't want him getting the wrong idea or anything! They're really sweet!”

“Right! It's just a little misunderstanding. I'm sure he'll understand. Especially if you're the one who explains it to him.”

“I...yes, I think you're right!” Fluttershy said excitedly. “So what are we waiting for? I have to get this all cleared up and make it up to him somehow!”

Rainbow Dash breathed a sigh of relief, the knots she felt inside finally loosening up. It was the same sort of relief she felt whenever she had completed any sort of high-stakes race or competition. It felt liberating, and cheering up Fluttershy gave it a pleasant tingling as well.

“Okay!” she said, a spring in her step as she trotted towards the stairs. “Let's find everypony and meet up with them. After that, you can talk to Mort and we can—”

There was a scrabbling of paws, and Rainbow Dash saw with some disdain that Angel had moved himself in front of the steps again, his arms spread wide in another attempt to bar them.

“Oh for crying out loud! Get out of the way, Angel!” She poked his stomach, but Angel stood firm, his steely gaze making it clear he wasn't going to move this time. “What's yer problem?!”

“Angel Bunny,” Fluttershy said, coming up beside Rainbow Dash, her tone soft but firm, “I don't know what's gotten into you all of a sudden, but I have to leave and explain that it was all a misunderstanding. I'm doing it for all our sakes.”

The rabbit shook his head fiercely, and to Rainbow Dash's shock, he got on its knees and shot a pleading, desperate look at Fluttershy, his black eyes wavering.

Fluttershy was taken back by the action. “Angel, I don't understand. Is it really that bad if I go?” The rabbit nodded quickly. “Are you still upset with Mort?” Another nod, even more intense than the last.

The cyan pegasus groaned, rolling her eyes. “All right, let's hear it straight from the rabbit's mouth. Why shouldn't we go?”

Angel suddenly dashed from his spot, racing towards a desk on the other side of the room, where he began to dig through its numerous drawers. Rainbow Dash had half a mind to take advantage of the distraction and head downstairs, but she was curious as to what had been driving the snowy animal so crazy.

When Angel came back, he was carrying a piece of paper and a pencil. Slapping the paper down, he began to scribble, one eye closed as the lead raced over the page. A moment later, he put the pencil down and lifted the paper up.

Rainbow Dash had to tilt her head and squint at the dark splotch, unable to decipher what the rabbit was trying to draw.

“Oh, is that supposed to Mort?” Fluttershy asked. Rainbow Dash blinked, and realized that, given the shape, the picture could be the cloaked pony, though incredibly simplified given the artist.

The rabbit nodded quickly, and brought the paper down to draw on it even more. Not long after that, he put the pencil down again and showed the same picture, but this time with a cartoonish, pony skull off to the side, and an arrow coming from it to the dark splotch that was Mort.

“Uh...” Rainbow Dash scratched her head, momentarily confused. “Mort's...bad?” Angel nodded his head, looking pleased. “Uh, okay, but why is he bad?”

Angel looked at her like she grew two heads, slapped his face, and then brought the pencil out, drawing something quickly. When he showed the paper again, the cartoon skull had been amended with crude crossbones, and even more arrows.

“Uh...he's really bad?” Fluttershy ventured doubtfully.

Angel gritted his teeth, steam almost coming out of his ears, and he drew several circles around the skull and crossbones, using the pencil to tap between the two drawings repeatedly.

“Ugh,” Rainbow Dash muttered with a roll of her eyes, reaching the limit of what little patience she already had. “Forget it, Fluttershy. He's just being paranoid now. Come on.”

Angel threw the pencil and paper away, and once again held his tiny arms out in an attempt to stop her. Rainbow Dash circumvented him the way she should've done in the first place: by stepping over him. She shot a satisfied smirk at the stunned rabbit and proceeded down the stairs, with Fluttershy following her lead.

Once they were halfway down the steps, every pair of eyes in the room turned to look at Fluttershy. The yellow pegasus was startled for a moment, but then smiled bashfully, her cheeks turning pink.

“O-oh, I'm so sorry, everyone,” she said. “I didn't mean to worry you all like that. Anyway, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. Everything's going to be okay now!”

No sooner had she said that, than Angel suddenly bounded down the stairs underneath the pegasi, and once at the bottom, began to hop up and down, emitting a stream of panicked squeaks.

The effect was instantaneous: a cacophony of animal sounds erupted from across the room, and the once still animals suddenly rushed in, crowding all around and forming a fuzzy, impeding wall.

“What the hay!” Rainbow Dash shouted, ducking to avoid several birds who were chirping madly around Fluttershy's head. “What did he tell them?!”

“I-I don't know! Oh, e-everyone please calm down. Ow! Elizabeak, I see you just fine! Hissy, you're squeezing my leg too tight, oh, ooh...” Fluttershy's words descended into indistinguishable mumbling, her eyes darting from one animal to the other.

Rainbow Dash couldn't help but take a few steps back, her wings beginning to unfurl out of anxiety. Subconscious instinct was telling her to fly out of there and take Fluttershy with her, but all the flying creatures had clouded up the airspace. As the noise grew, sweat begun to bead down her forehead, and the animals only came closer and closer...

“ENOUGH!”

Her head snapped towards Fluttershy, and she felt her blood go cold when she caught a glimpse of two wide and pitiless eyes. Even when one wasn't looking at them directly, Fluttershy's “Stare” had the power to make one feel like a little foal, whose hoof had just been caught in the cookie jar.

Every animal in the hut went dead silent, their eyes locked on Fluttershy's own. Anything that was flying had quickly landed on anything that was available, be it furniture or animal, and anything that had been clutching to Fluttershy had retreated back into the crowd, unable to look away from her.

“I am sorry,” she said, sternly. “I hate to raise my voice like that, but I have to go now because you might have hurt a pony, and I need to make sure he's okay. I also need to explain what happened so he understands that you're not bad animals. So be good, and let me and Rainbow Dash leave.”

Nothing happened at first, but then with great reluctance, the animals began to back away, forming a path not unlike the one they had made for Rainbow Dash. Even then, Fluttershy kept her Stare going, making sure she had eye contact with as many animals as she could as she walked towards the door.

“Come on, Rainbow Dash,” she said, and the young flier realized she had been crouched into a ball the entire time, too scared to move.

“Y-yes ma'am!” she squeaked, and quickly followed Fluttershy, watching the despaired looks she got from the other animals as she passed. It created an uneasy feeling in her in her gut, and she kept wondering what Angel had said to made them all so terrified.

As she neared the door with Fluttershy, Angel suddenly sprang forward, clutching his caretaker's tail in his paws, and tugging as if to pull her back in. Fluttershy turned the Stare on Angel, and while the rabbit flinched under it, his quaking paws continued gripping Fluttershy's tail.

“Angel Bunny,” she said, in a soft voice that was edged with steel, “I'm glad you want to look out for me, but I'm a grown mare, and I'm free to make friends with who I want. I'm sorry you don't like Mort. I'd like you to be friends with him, but I can't force you. Just like you can't force me not to be friends with him.”

Angel gulped audibly, his body shaking as he struggled to keep a hold on her tail, and to Rainbow Dash it looked as if he was close to tears.

“I'm only going to ask once,” Fluttershy told him, and if it were possible, the Stare only intensified even further, to the point Rainbow Dash half-expected heat to leap out of her pupils. “Please. Let. Go.”

The rabbit choked back a sob and, unable to resist any further, released the tail, his little body slumping over, looking absolutely pitiful. Fluttershy blinked once, and like that the Stare was gone, replaced with her usual, gentle eyes.

“That's a good bunny,” she said sweetly, patting him on the head. The rabbit only moaned miserably in response. Fluttershy smiled sympathetically, and turned her eyes towards the rest of the defeated looking animals. “I'll back in a few hours, everyone. When you want to go back out, just ask Angel here.”

With those last words, Fluttershy walked out the door, and Rainbow Dash followed, glancing one last time at the animals in the hut. Utter despair seemed to have claimed them, and more than a few seemed to be on the brink of tears. As if they thought this would be the last time they'd ever see them again.

Rainbow Dash had that uneasy feeling again, and for some reason her mind went back to the skull that Angel drew. The more she thought about it, the more it bothered her. It felt like she was close to remembering something important, but it couldn't be anything more than a feeling.

Tired of the whole situation, she gave her head a good shake and focused again on the day ahead. They had a lot of lost time to make up for. She only hoped that Twilight and Pinkie Pie were fairing better than the others. In fact, so long as the two of them were together, they should be able to keep each other in balance without Mort getting too bored or terrified.

She closed the door behind her, stopping next to Fluttershy, who took a deep breath of the fresh air. She looked more and more like her old self again, practically emitting an aura of calm and gentleness.

Her smile broke briefly, and she asked, “You don't think I was too hard on them or anything, do you?”

“Nah, they'll be fine,” Rainbow Dash assured her, confidently. “I'm sure they'll feel pretty silly when you come back safe and sound.”

Fluttershy considered her words briefly, then nodded in agreement. “Yes, I think you're right.”

“Of course I'm right!” Rainbow Dash spread her wings, and with a single flap she was up in the air, looking down on a small-looking Fluttershy. “Come on! They shouldn't be that hard to find!”

In a few moments (that looked painfully slow to Rainbow Dash), Fluttershy was floating right next to her. Satisfied, Rainbow Dash took off towards Ponyville, making sure she moved just slow enough for Fluttershy to keep up.

It wasn't long before the bulk of Ponyville was beneath them, and Rainbow Dash began to search for her friends, scanning the barren streets. “Huh.”

“What's wrong?”

“Oh, well, nothing. I just thought Mort would stand out like an ink stain or something,” Rainbow Dash
answered. “And you'd think he'd be easy to spot without everypony being around.”

“That's strange,” Fluttershy commented. “It's almost noon, isn't it? Shouldn't everypony be going out for lunch?”

Rainbow Dash nodded in agreement, realizing her friend was right. The roads should be filled with ponies going to and from the various restaurants. But nearly everyplace she knew of was empty of everything, save the tables or bored waiters.

“Weird,” she said, “usually it's only this quiet when...” She trailed off as something caught her ears. The sound was rhythmic, kinda catchy, and was coming from...

“Oh no!” The sound, actually music, was coming from Sugarcube Corner, where even now a few ponies were trotting over to its entrance. Confetti and streamers would fly out the door every time it was opened, and the music would briefly get louder before the door closed again.

“Pinkie Pie's throwing a party?” Fluttershy asked, confused. “But, wasn't she supposed to be with Mort?”

“That's just it!” Rainbow Dash said, dragging down on her mane (which was the closest a pony could come to pulling at their hair, considering a lack of fingers). “I think she's throwing the party for Mort!”

“Huh? But...o-oh dear, I thought we were saving that for last?”

“Something must have gone really, really wrong while we were gone,” Rainbow Dash despaired, imagining several scenarios involving Twilight and some sort of chaotic, magical mishap. And now Mort was in a small, doubtlessly packed building, when just this morning he was nervous about being in comparatively open and less populated streets.

She looked at the pegasus next to her. “All right, Fluttershy,” Rainbow Dash said seriously, barely hiding her own nervousness, “if you were Mort, and you suddenly found yourself surrounded by just about every pony in Ponyville, what would you do?”

“Eep.”

Fluttershy's eyes shrunk, and her wings froze rigidly in place. She fell wordlessly, forcing the cyan pegasus to rush after her in a panic.

A moment later, Rainbow Dash was flying towards Sugarcube Corner, her passenger still in shock from the imagined scenario.

“S-sorry about that,” the yellow pegasus whispered, draped across Rainbow Dash's back.

“Don't worry about it,” she replied, resisting a quip about Fluttershy's weight. She needed to fly more. “Just hang tight and we'll be there in a jiffy!” She spread her wings and begun to glide towards the confectionery shop, careful to avoid any maneuvers that might dislodge the pegasus on her back.

“Y-you don't think anything bad will happen, do you?” Fluttershy asked worriedly.

Rainbow Dash bit her lip. She could think of a dozen ways that things could go wrong, because that seemed to be the norm for today.

“Hey, you never know,” she said, more to reassure herself than her friend. “They say third time's the charm, right...?”

The Party

After the chance encounter with Derpy Hooves, Mort was quite intent on avoiding being seen by more ponies. He didn't know how the gray pegasus could so thoroughly see through the enchantment. Spike and other animals were troubling but understandable, as evidently the proginator of the enchantment never took non-ponies into consideration. Now, however, it seemed there were even some ponies who were not affected. While Twilight Sparkle still seemed none-the-wiser, he feared it would only be a matter of time before another pony with Derpy's unique insight would see through it, and not conclude that he was only wearing a mask.

Of course, just as he was having these thoughts, he would then be plopped in clear sight of several dozen ponies. All who were now looking at him.

Before he could dwell on the circumstances further, Pinkie Pie was already pushing him across the floor, babbling on about the games they could play, and getting sidetracked on each one when she remembered some humorous and embarrassing story they reminded her of. Mort would have appreciated the stories more if he didn't feel like he was going to be another story for her to tell very soon.

“—and then I said, 'No, silly! You're supposed to put candy in the pinata, not make the pinata out of candy!' But I still thought it was a really neat idea, but it's just too bad that then you'd have to be breaking all the candy you're supposed to eat, but I guess if you make the candy pieces break off each other easily then—OH! Hi guys!”

The two of them finally came to a stop in front of a small group of ponies, consisting mostly of mares. (The male-to-female ratio in Ponyville was firmly in favor of the latter, for reasons Mort never investigated.) The colorful ponies were all wearing bright, friendly smiles, which meant that he hadn't run into another pony like Derpy Hooves. Not yet, anyway.

Pinkie Pie patted Mort on the back, and wrapped the foreleg around his shoulders. “Everyone, this is Mort!” she said excitedly, gesturing with her free hoof towards him. “He's the new pony I was telling you about. Poor Morty here has been kinda having a rough day today, so I'm hoping our Ponyville cheer could rub off on him!”

Before Mort could protest, she dragged him even closer, raising one of his hooves with her own. “Anyway, what are you waiting for, Mort? This here's Colgate...” A blue unicorn with a white streak in her mane shook his hoof. He didn't have time to get a feel for her spirit before Pinkie Pie moved him to the pony next to her. “And this is Carrot Top...” He shook her hoof, and while there was a slight flinch, the yellow and orange earth pony kept her smile going. “And this is Wintergreen—”

“Pinkie!” The interjection came from Twilight, who had finally caught up with them. She was a lifeline in a sea of ponies. “Are we really—oh, excuse me, it's nice to meet you,” she said, giving a quick shake to the white pegasus with mint hair, “—are we really going to be doing this for everypony? I feel like half the town's here!”

“U, she's got a point!” he said, with a hint of desperation. The less ponies that had a good look at him, the better. “There are just so many ponies here, I couldn't possibly say hi to all of them!”

Pinkie Pie rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Gee, you're right, Twilight! I guess that's why you're the smart one!”

Mort breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes, of course. I guess that means—”

Pinkie Pie grabbed his shoulders and looked at him so intently, he was afraid the spell would fail. “It means it's time to put this into OVERDRIVE!” she cried, pumping one foreleg in the air.

“Overdrive?! Wha-augh!” Pinkie Pie suddenly grabbed hold of him, and an instant later he was almost gliding over the floor as he was pulled along by the party pony. A second later he found himself in front of a startled, blue mare.

“This is Sourberry,” Pinkie Pie babbled.

“H-hello th—” Mort yelped the world blurred, and the mare disappeared, to be replaced by an equally startled pair of ponies.

“This is Salt and Pepper,” Pinkie Pie said, just as quickly as before. But before he could utter a greeting, the world became a colored blur again, and the pair was gone in place of a yellow unicorn. “And Daisy Chain, and I can't forget—”

It went on like this for some time. As soon as a name had left Pinkie Pie's lips, Mort was being pulled across the floor at speeds he didn't think were possible for an earth pony. Pinkie Pie, for her part, never missed a beat when it came to naming the ponies, and from what he could see never even took a breath during the whole ordeal.

“—then we have Snapshot, Ace, Romana, Honeybunch, Oat Seed, Broadside, Lemon Hearts, Lucky Swirl, Pepperdance, Rosebud, Regalia, Minty, Root Canal—”

Pinkie Pie continued like this, pushing Mort in front of more and more ponies, his vision becoming a series of colors and symbols that were beginning to bleed into each other. It became so bad he could have sworn he was meeting a few ponies over and over again, with just slightly different cutie marks, if even that.

“—Water Works, Large Ham, Eye See, Celery Stick, PB and J, Rocker, Twilight Sparkle, Spike and Pinkie Pie!” Mort suddenly snapped back to reality, and saw himself shaking hooves with the pink earth pony, who appeared startled for a moment, along with both Twilight and Spike.

“Whoops! We already met, didn't we?” Mort snapped his head around towards the voice, seeing Pinkie Pie just behind him, like she had been there the whole time. He turned his head back, and found he was trying to shake hoofs with thin air.

“What? But...” He pointed between the two spots, trying to come to grips with what he had just experienced. “You were...I was...but then you...how...?!”

“You can sound so silly sometimes, Mort!” Pinkie Pie giggled. “Not that there's anything wrong with it. It's a great way to put a smile on a pony's face! There was this one time—” Before she could get started on another story, her ears perked up as she caught sight of something behind him, and she gasped in delight. “Ooh, ooh! I haven't introduced you to Mr. and Mrs. Cake yet! Wait here, Mort! I'll be back before you can say 'cupcakes!'”

With that she was off like a rocket, kicking up dust and leaving a pink blur behind her. Mort watched her go, and saw her speaking to a pair of earth ponies who were carrying trays of sweets. One was a stout, blue mare with a pink mane, and the other was a lanky, yellow stallion with a short, red mane. Both, unsurprisingly, had some sort of cake on their flanks, and were wearing aprons.

“Are you alright, Mort?” Twilight asked, trotting up beside him.

The past thirty seconds played out again in his mind, and it may have made even less sense. “Twilight, was...was I shaking hooves with—”

“Yes,” she said, with a knowing nod.

“Even though she was—”

“Yes.”

“How?”

She avoided his eyes, smiling uneasily. “Well...she's...um...”

“She's Pinkie Pie!” Spike threw in helpfully.

Twilight Sparkle sighed, and with a moderately defeated tone said, “Yeah, I think that's really the best way to explain it.”

Mort groaned. “This is just...nuts. You can't walk anywhere without bumping into somepony, they're all talking and staring and...and I don't even know where to start!” He scanned the room again, saying, “Do I eat something first? Play a game? Talk to somepony? Open a gift? Where's the timetable? Where's the scheduling?! Is their a proper order to this or—”

“Mort!” His name jolted the shade out his panic attack. Twilight put a comforting hoof on his shoulder, and gave him a reassuring smile. “Just calm down, okay? It's just a party. All you have to do is enjoy yourself.”

Spike nodded sagely. “Seriously, it's nothing to get so worked up about. Have you never been to a party or something?”

“Um...well...” Mort avoided Spike's curious gaze, and scratched the floor uneasily. He technically had been to parties before, or at least he thought they were. He was never the guest of honor, of course, and he rarely stayed longer than a few minutes. And obviously, if he had to be there, chances were good there wasn't going to be a lot of partying anyway. “I've...never had a lot of time for actual partying.”

“Seriously?” Spike asked, in disbelief. “I mean, they throw some wild celebrations around Equestria, I'd figured you'd go to one at least, or even—”

“That's enough, Spike. It's not that weird,” Twilight said, and Mort found himself once again grateful for the librarian. “Heck, I’d only been to a couple myself before I came to Ponyville. It's normal if he feels a little nervous. When Pinkie threw one for me I didn't really know what to do either.”

“She did this to you, too?!” He collapsed on his knees, and held his hoofs up pleadingly. “Twilight, please, you gotta tell me what to do here! What did you do when Pinkie did that? Give me some direction! Please!”

“Well...” She avoided his eyes, looking uncomfortable as her cheeks took on a rosy tint. “I sorta...went to my room.”

Mort continued to stare at her, waiting for elaboration, but it wasn't forthcoming. “Was their...something going on up there?” he asked hopefully.

“Uh, no,” she said, looking more embarrassed. “I just went to bed...”

“Oh.” He couldn't hide his disappointment. “So you just left.”

“I didn't leave,” she said defensively. “I just...well, went into another room! That's all.”

“It's too bad, too,” Spike said, his look one of recollection. “If you'd stuck around, you might've seen AJ and Rainbow trying to see who could drink the most hot sauce! Rainbow Dash was flapping her wings the whole time and Applejack was looking as red as Big—”

“Wait, wait!” Mort interrupted, a thought suddenly occurring to him. “That's it! I can do that!”

Spike scratched his head. “Uh, I don't see how drinking hot sauce could make you more relaxed, but hey, whatever floats your boat.”

“No, no, not that! I can just leave!” he told them, clopping his hoofs excitedly. “It's so simple it's brilliant!”

Twilight looked at him in surprise, and her tone became worried. “Mort, you can't just leave! I mean, I know I kinda-sorta did that—”

“And she's still your best friend, right?” he interjected. “She must not have minded that much then, right? And it's not like she'd notice if one pony was gone, right?”

“I dunno,” Spike remarked skeptically. “You're kinda hard to miss.”

Mort did a quick scan of the room. There were precisely zero ponies who were wearing a cloak. There weren't even ponies that had a dark coat. It was times like this he wished more ponies had retained their more earthy colors from ages ago. He hardly saw any pony with a black coat these days.

“Well, you can just tell her I'm in the bathroom or something,” he said, edging towards the door. “If I go now, she probably won't even notice. She's been gone a really long time anyway, I bet—”

“HEY MORT!” Mort gave a short scream as Pinkie Pie suddenly appeared in front of him, wrapping him in a hug, the sheer energy that existed in her spirit almost overwhelming his senses. “Miss me?”

“Almost,” he mumbled, wearily wiggling out of her forelegs. “I had plenty of time to say 'cupcakes', you know.”

“So did you?”

“I...uh...” Mort went quiet as he silently realized that Pinkie Pie was, technically, right. He groaned and slumped his head forward, halfway between indignant smoldering and embarrassed stupification. A small part of him was convinced that Pinkie Pie was doing this on purpose, somehow.

An upwards glance was what it took for him to notice the other two ponies that were with her. They had warm smiles, and wore them in that special way that made others feel like they were always welcome. It was a wonder that Pinkie Pie wasn't related to them.

“Mr. and Mrs. Cake, I presume?” he asked, trying to force some sense of cheer into his voice.

“Ones and only,” Mr. Cake replied, tilting his diner cap in greeting. “Always a pleasure to be meeting new ponies, Mort. I hope you're having fun.”

“Well, uh...you've certainly gone all out,” he said carefully.

Mrs. Cake chortled, her plump form and swirling mane jiggling. “Well, you can thank Pinkie Pie for that! The filly can do just about anything when she puts her mind to it!”

“It is kinda amazing what she can do in half-an-hour,” Twilight commented, looking nervously at Mort.

“It's no biggie, Twilight! I've been doing parties for so long I can practically get it down to a science! Maybe I should write a book about it! Ooh, ooh, you should help me, Twilight! With my experience and your know-how, I bet we could make the best guide for any kind of party! Tea parties, birthday parties, welcome parties, goodbye parties—well maybe not goodbye parties, I haven't done any of those yet. Oh, I really hope I never have to! It'd be so sad and—”

“Honey,” Mrs. Cake said, poking Pinkie Pie in the ribs gently, “we have guests, remember?”

“Oh, duh! Like I’d ever forget that!” she chirped. She suddenly got much closer to Mort, so much so their faces were almost touching. Her bright, round eyes looking at him expectantly. “So what do you think, Mort? Isn't this one of the best parties you've ever been to?”

“Oh, er...” He gulped, perhaps a bit too audibly, and tugged at the edge of his collar—another bad habit he had picked up from ponies. “W-well, about that...”

The smiles on the Cakes faces slowly vanished at his tone, and the two shared worried looks with one another. Pinkie Pie kept her smile going, though there was the faintest of flickers across it.

“Well?” she urged cheerfully.

“Um, well...it's just, uh, this party is...uh...” He shot a pleading look at Twilight, hoping for support.

The librarian bit her lip, and briefly glanced at Pinkie Pie, then back at him. “Just...tell them what you really think, Mort.”

It was clear he wasn't going to coax anything else out of her. Turning to look back at Pinkie Pie, he felt a twist of panic when he saw that the huge smile had shrunk just a little, and now seemed more uncertain.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, the cheer sounding just a little more forced.

“W-well, it's just...uh...this party...t-this party is...” There were a lot of ways he could describe the party: intimidating, overwhelming, not his scene, kinda frightening...and every time he ran the words through his mind, they would always come out sounding mean spirited. Even “uncomfortable” sounded too harsh a word in front of Pinkie Pie.

Then it finally happened: her smile, agonizingly, began to drip, little by little, until it was little more than a frown. A tiny frown on any other pony, but on her, even for the incredibly short time he knew her, it was the equivalent of watching an apple deciding to be an orange, or watching a burning candle freeze its wax. It just wasn't right. Even the mane seemed a little deflated, somehow.

When she spoke again, there was an element of concern and, most distressingly, a tremor of sadness. “You...don't like the party?” she asked, her voice almost cracking.

Mort had sudden flashes of Rarity and Fluttershy, both of which were left in tears due to his own carelessness with his actions and words. Thinking of that made his next words come very easily to him.

“This...this is, without a doubt, the best party I've ever been to!” he cheered, injecting as much enthusiasm into his voice as possible. “It's just so...uh, colorful, and happy, and...uh, partyrific?”

For a moment, Pinkie Pie looked at him blankly. Then in an instant, the smile returned, even wider than before, and Mort could swear she seemed a brighter shade of pink as well. She squealed in delight and wrapped him in a massive hug again.

“Oh, I knew you'd like it, Morty! I'm going to make this a party you'll never, ever forget!” She zipped away, the speed of it causing the shade to spin in place. Twilight quickly came over and grabbed him, bringing him to a sudden halt.

“Well, me and my hubby need to get back and put the finishing touches on a few things. You just go and enjoy yourself, dear.” Mrs. Cake gently nuzzled the side of Mort's cloak, and Mr. Cake gave him a friendly pat on the back, before the two of them began to head back towards the kitchen.

Twilight put on a small smile. “Mort, I'm glad you're going to try and stick around.” The smile faltered ever so slightly, and she let an edge of concern slip in when he asked, “You are going to be okay, right...?”

“I really hope so,” he said bluntly. “I can always ask you two for help if I need it, right?”

“Definitely! I'm something of a party animal myself,” Spike bragged. “Maybe not as much as Pinkie is, but you've any doubts, I'm the guy to turn to.”

“And I still know most of the ponies here,” Twilight added. “If they want to talk to you, I can help you out if you really need it.”

Mort nodded appreciatively, feeling more at ease, if only a little. “Thank you so much! You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“Geeze, there's no need to get dramatic,” Spike said, slightly embarrassed. “Like we said, it's just a party. It's not going to be a big deal or anything.”

“If you say so...” Mort did another scan of the room, each corner seeming to hold something different to do. “So, uh, if you're the closest I have to an expert—besides Pinkie Pie, anyway—what's the best way to start?”

Spike scratched his chin, thinking. “Well, we could always start with a game. Pinkie Pie always has a lot of games for us to play. Musical Chairs, Pin the Tail on the Pony, Charades, a bunch of board games of course...”

“I do like board games,” he said, fondly remembering the games he and Luna played in her room.

“Well there you go,” Twilight said, grinning. “We'll let Pinkie Pie know, and—”

“Make way, everypony!” Pinkie Pie's bubbly voice rose above the noise in the room, and the earth pony came trotting back with something long and white rolled up in her mouth. With a flourish, the fabric was unfurled in mid-air, Pinkie Pie biting down on just a tiny bit to keep it from sailing across the room. It floated down towards the floor, and Pinkie Pie went to work flattening out the last few wrinkles.

He stared at it, both confused and intrigued. It was a large, square mat, decorated with four rows of dots, with each row consisting of a single color, which were either red, blue, yellow, or green. Not far from the mat was a spinner, each quarter of the spinner taken up by a picture of a hoof, a couple of words (“Left Forehoof,” “Right Hindhoof,” etc.) and an array of colors matching the dots on the mat.

“What is that?” he asked no one in particular.

The question prompted a startled gasp from Pinkie Pie. “You don't know what game this is?”

“Oh, uh...well...” He turned his eyes to the ground, feeling a little foolish all of a sudden.

“Oh, no! It's okay if you don't, Morty. I just thought everypony had played this game at least once!” She patted him on the head, careful to avoid his horn, and hopped over to the spinner. “It's really simple! All you do is spin this thingy here...” She twirled the spinner, watching it intently until it slowed to a stop on “Right Forehoof”, the arrow pointing at a yellow dot.

“Then,” she said, walking onto the mat, “you put your hoof on any dot that matches the color it's pointing at!” She demonstrated by choosing a yellow dot near the center, sitting her right forehoof on top of it. “And all you gotta do is keep it there until you're told otherwise! Easy peasy!”

“Huh. Okay...” He scratched his head, not so much confused by the rules, as much as the actual game itself. “I...guess that could be fun. But it seems a little easy, doesn't it?”

Pinkie Pie giggled knowingly. “Sure, it doesn't sound hard, but just wait until you actually play it!” She suddenly raised a foreleg and announced, “Alright, everypony! Who wants to take on the reigning champion first?”

Excited chattering broke out among the crowd, ponies looking to their friends and neighbors to see if they would be the ones to get first. Mort studied their faces, seeing quite a few shaking their heads. Some were rubbing their legs or backs in a sympathetic manner, as if remembering something painful.

From somewhere in the crowd, there came a string of protests from what sounded like a young stallion, and a moment later the crowd parted, allowing a couple of ponies to push forward a light brown earth pony. The protesting pony suddenly went quiet when he realized where he was, and looked around nervously.

“Ooh, Caramel!” Pinkie Pie hopped over right next to him, leering playfully. “I don't remember playing this with you.”

“Whoah, whoah, hold on,” he said, glancing back at the ponies who pushed him up front. “I think there was a—”

“Let's get stretchin'!” Pinkie Pie hopped onto the map, and a moment later Caramel rolled his eyes and followed her, a few ponies giggling at his expense. “Spike, can you do the honors?”

“Sure thing!” Spike climbed off of Twilight and hurried over to the spinner, rubbing his hands eagerly.

“Am I missing something?” he asked the librarian, as the two ponies took up positions on the mat, one obviously more excited than the other. “He doesn't look too excited. Is Pinkie...not good at this, or something?”

“Oh, no, quite the opposite,” Twilight said with a smile. “She's the best.”

“Oh. So what's the problem?”

Twilight giggled nervously. “Well...you'll see.”

He gave her a queer look, before turning his attention back towards the mat. Pinkie Pie was hopping from hoof to hoof, and Caramel was stretching himself, looking strangely determined. Both were on opposite sides of the mat, standing within its boundaries. Spike cracked his fingers, rotated his shoulders, and then held a single digit on the spinner.

“Ready when you are!” he announced.

“I'm ready!” Pinkie Pie bubbled, planting her right hindhoof on a green dot.

Caramel snorted as he put his own hoof down on a red dot. “I guess I'm ready, too.”

“Here we go!” Spike grabbed the tip of the spinner, and gave it a swift tug. It spun in place, the tip of it a blur, before it finally slowed to a stop: “Left forehoof, blue!”

“Aw, that's no fun!” Pinkie Pie simply moved her left forehoof to a blue dot, firmly placing a hoof down on top of it. “Go on, Caramel!”

Caramel nodded, and did the same, putting his own hoof on a blue dot right next to his other one. Spike spun the spinner again, and this time it stopped on right forehoof, red. Caramel merely had to slide his hoof over to the dot.

“So...it doesn't look too bad,” Mort commented, as the spinner landed on a green square for the right forehoof.

“Just give it a little time,” Twilight told him.

For the first few spins, the two ponies simply moved around the mat, placing their hoofs where they were told, and Mort was failing to see the appeal of the game. Most games, he knew, were supposed to be challenging, or at the very least fun. Moving hoofs around a dotted mat didn't look to be either.

Soon, both ponies had all four hooves bound to a particular dot, and as Mort soon found out, they couldn't pick a dot the other pony had already chosen, nor could they lift a hoof for any reason. This lead to situations where one or the other had to stretch a leg to a far out dot, since the closer ones were either taken or being blocked by a limb.

As the game went on, Mort began to see how easily the game could get complicated for the players. As the two ponies moved their hooves around according to the spinner, they were gradually moving into each others space, trying to occupy the closest dots. At the same time, they were moving into more and more awkward positions to stay in the game. Right and left legs were pulled in opposite directions, and limbs were either so stretched out or so pulled in that balancing would be difficult even without another pony being in the way.

Caramel was sweating up a storm as he struggled to keep himself balanced. Pinkie Pie, on the other hoof, looked to be having the time of her life. She was a complete natural, flipping and twisting her body in ways Mort didn't think were possible. There wasn't any position for her that seemed too difficult to pull off.

Finally, the spinner had landed on left hindhoof, red for Caramel. The earth pony looked at a red dot on the left side of the mat, then looked back at his left hindhoof, which was planted on the opposite side on green. His right hindhoof had been planted on a yellow dot, and his front forhooves were planted on the same side as well.

Twilight winced. “Ooh, that's not good.”

Caramel looked between where his hoof was, and where it was supposed to go. “I can't do that!” he said, somewhat indignantly.

“Don't give up!” Pinkie Pie cheered, who had at this point turned herself upside down, face red from the blood that was rushing through her skin. “You can do it! Just believe in yourself!”

Caramel rolled his eyes with a sigh, and proceeded to attempt the maneuver. Taking a breath, he lifted his hoof and began to cross it underneath him, towards the opposite side of the mat. Sweat was beading off his brow as his body began to tilt in an attempt to keep himself balanced. There were some awed gasps from the guests as Caramel's leg stretched further and further, and for a moment it looked like he was going to complete it.

It didn't last long. Just as the tip of his hoof touched the red dot, his opposite hindleg suddenly slipped out in the opposite direction. The earth pony gave a strangled cry as the weight of his body came down on his crossed legs, causing his eyeballs to bulge out before the rest of his body floundered onto the mat.

There was a chorus of disappointed and sympathetic moans. A pair of stallions pulled their friend from the mat, and helped walk the dazed earth pony towards a table in the back. Pinkie Pie flipped right-side up again, shaking her mane out of her eyes.

“Great game, Caramel! You just rest those legs up for next time!” Pinkie Pie sat down in the center of the mat, and looked at the crowd expectantly. “So, who's next? Who thinks they can take on the Pinkster?”

Pinkie Pie's head swiveled around, her eyes scanning the room like a turret looking for targets. Most of the ponies Mort saw were either shaking their heads or paying attention to what could have been an interesting corner in the room. A couple pegasi had squeaked in horror and hid themselves behind their wings. Mort was a little disappointed that none had stepped forward. It was certainly fun to watch.

When he looked at Pinkie Pie again to see if she had spotted anyone, he was surprised to see her staring in their direction. He looked over his shoulders, but found the space behind him unusually barren. If no pony was there, then what was she...

Oh.

A huge grin appeared on Pinkie Pie's face. “Morty~,” she said, in a sing-song voice. It wasn't just her who was looking at him now; it was every pony in the room. Quite a few of them were barely holding back their laughter.

He gulped, trying to back away. “Uh, heh heh, I-I don't know, Pinkie, I've never done this before and there are probably tons of more skilled ponies here, so I'll just—”

There was a sudden shove from behind, and he found himself stumbling forward, stopping just a few inches from Pinkie Pie's beaming face. He twisted his head around to see who had done it, but only had time to see Twilight’s own confused face before he was grabbed by Pinkie Pie.

“Yay!” she said, spinning him around like they were in a dance. “I just knew you couldn't resist! We're going to have so much fun!” She let go of him, and he twirled across the mat until he stopped at a corner. Not coincidentally, he was in the exact spot needed for him to play. Around him, ponies were hooting and whistling.

Pinkie Pie took her place on the opposite end, wiggling her tail excitedly and looking like she was ready to pounce. “You ready?” she asked.

He was not ready. He did not want to be the center of attention right now. He didn't want to end up like Caramel, or even worse, revealing more of himself on accident. The enchatment worked when his features were vague enough for other ponies to fill in the rest. There was nothing vague at all about a skeleton. He would just have to decline and—

“Go Mort!”

Mort froze for a moment, puzzled. The voice didn't come from Pinkie Pie, Twilight, or even Spike. In fact, it was a pony he hadn't heard at all before. He tried to look for the source, but before he could find it, another pony voiced the same thing. Then another. And another. Soon enough, words of encouragement seemed to be coming from every other pony in the room.

The encouragement made him feel warm. It reverberated within his being, dulling whatever anxieties he was having then. A spark of excitement was beginning to grow inside him, the sort one might get when about to jump off a high ledge into some water below for the first time. A sea of uncertainty that also offered a unique thrill within its waves.

He steadied himself and cleared his throat. “I-I guess I am.” This was followed by a few, loud whoops, and the sounds of hooves clopping on the wood floor. If he had skin, he would have probably blushed. “At least I hope,” he whispered to himself, willing his cloak to cling to his legs. No need to go showing off too much bone.

“Awwwright! Spin that crazy thang, Spike!” Pinkie Pie shouted, pointing a hoof at the dragon.

Spike did a little salute, spun the spinner, and the game was on. Much like Pinkie Pie's match with Caramel, it started off a little slow, the first spins being used just to get their hooves planted on some dot on the mat. And much like the last game, it was after this that things began to get interesting. The two of them, when feasible, started planting hooves down in the other’s space, to make any movements as difficult as possible.

Pinkie Pie, for a pony that seemed to eat nothing but sweets, was surprisingly flexible, and at times Mort believed she was picking a dot for no reason, other than she'd be standing in a funny way. While Mort thought he'd have an easier go at it (no muscles to strain, after all), there was still the issue of balance. Gravity was a harsh mistress, as he had learned the hard way on his trip to Ponyville, and he had to balance himself without the crutch of floating. Being that he had rarely not floated, in any way, this was difficult.

The game had already gone on longer than it had before, and Mort was finding himself standing in more precarious stances just to stay in. However, it was also starting to take a toll on Pinkie Pie, who was beginning to show the first signs of sweat.

Spike was readying to spin again. By then, the two players had been forced to the edge of the mat. Mort's right limbs were spread out and almost opposite of each other, and his left limbs were side-by-side on different colors, but much closer. Pinkie Pie, who was splayed out beneath him, had her limbs spread out across the mat, making it awkward to step anywhere without tripping over her somehow.

Pinkie Pie strained a grin. “How you holding up, Mort?” she grunted.

“J-just fine, thank you,” he replied, struggling to maintain his balance. He turned to look at Spike, and urged him with a nod to spin. It was his turn, and he was hoping for better footing.

Spike spun the spinner, watching it twirl, until it came to a stop. The dragon winced when he saw it. “Uh, left hindhoof, red.”

Mort flinched. He took a look at the mat: his left forehoof took up one red dot already, but the dot behind and in front of it was occupied by Pinkie Pie's hindhooves. As close as they were to the edge, Mort would have no choice but to extend the hindleg all the way up the mat.

Pinkie Pie rotated her head like an owl, and grimaced. “Um, are you sure you want to try that, Mort? That's even farther than what Caramel tried, and it looks really painful.”

Mort took a quick look around. Most of the ponies didn't look convinced that he could do it, and some seemed to be wincing at the thought. He took another wary look at the dot, then back at his own hoof. It would be really difficult, but maybe...

He braced himself, then began to move his left hindhoof forward. He strained the boney limb farther and farther, inching towards the dot. A hush fell on the crowd as he got closer and closer, until finally...

Pop.

His eyes shot wide at the sound, just as his hoof finally touched down on the dot. There was a quiet gasp from the crowd, though all of their attention seemed drawn to the fact he had touched the dot, and not, as he feared, the sound of his femur popping out. He could feel it suspended inside him, just an inch from his pelvis. If he hadn't willed his cloak to keep it from dropping through, the ponies would have been staring at a skeletal leg rolling out from underneath him.

“Are...are you okay, Mort?” Twilight asked him, staring between him and where he had put his hoof down.

“Oh, uh, I'm fine! Just fine,” he said, hurriedly, finding it very difficult to keep himself upright. He inched his body forward, silently popping the femur back in place. “So, uh, your turn, Pinkie Pie?”

Pinkie Pie was speechless for a moment, her eyes narrowing. “Ooh, you're good,” she said. She brightened an instant later, and said, “Okey dokey! Go ahead and give it another go, Spike!”

Spike nodded. He spun the spinner again, watching the arrow. “Okay, right forehoof, red!”

The crowd gasped, and it was easy to see why; there were only two red dots left on the mat, and they were on the opposite side of Pinkie Pie. Mort could lift his hoof up, but no matter which one he chose, Pinkie Pie would have to stretch across nearly the entire mat just to make it.

Pinkie Pie's face was unreadable. She was simply staring into space, her mouth a thin line. Then, her face scrunched into one of fierce determination.

Spike dropped next to Pinkie Pie's head, pointing out the location on the spinner. “Uh, Pinkie Pie? Maybe you should...um...y'know...”

“Nu huh,” she said, with a shake of her mane. “Pinkamina Diane Pie never quits a game when it's half-finished! Except if everypony gets really sick. Or we're late for a party. Or if there's a fire. Maybe if there's a fire, but that's it!”

Spike covered his eyes as Pinkie Pie lifted her hoof, and began to reach underneath her, towards the dot on the opposite end of the mat. Mort lifted himself a few inches to give her more room, and watched in awe as the pink pony began to inch herself closer and closer to the red dot. Sweat was pouring off her brow, and she was gritting her teeth in pure effort as her face went from a bright pink to a dark red.

“Al...most...there...” She groaned as her foreleg began to extend even further, beyond what Mort thought a pony was capable of doing, and he was starting to believe that she could actually do it. At the same time, however, he noticed the rest of her limbs were also beginning to stretch, in an attempt to give her more leeway without leaving the mat completely. Almost like a rubber band.

A rubber band. He looked at each dot that had Pinkie Pie's hooves, and his horn glowed faintly. Just enough to peel some data off. Like how the friction between her hooves and mat were reaching a critical point. “Oh no.”

“I...got....” Pinkie Pie squealed as her foreleg seemed to stretch the last few inches. And before Mort could voice a warning to her, friction finally gave up the ghost. In the next instant there was an almost rubbery snap sound, and Mort found himself rolling in a circle before finally being propelled into the air, and then crashing down to the ground.

He picked himself up, making sure to keep himself properly concealed, and almost let his jaw literally drop at what he found: Pinkie Pie and the mat had been rolled into a tube, with her head sticking out at one end, and her tail at the other.

“Oh my gosh!” he shouted, rushing to her, along with several others. “Are you okay?! Say something!”

Pinkie Pie shook the stars from her head, and took a look at her predicament. “Ooh,” she moaned, slightly dazed, “I wonder if this is what tooth paste feels like. Good game, Morty...”

Mort watched as a pair of mares rolled Pinkie Pie away towards a corner. He couldn't help but feel a little guilty about what happened to her, and was ready to follow when a pony (Carrot Top, he soon recalled) appeared in front of him, beaming at him.

“I can't believe it!” she gushed. “No pony's ever beaten Pinkie Pie at that game before! You know how incredible that is?”

“Not...really?” he replied, unsure. More ponies began to join in, drawing in closer towards him, all of them speaking at once. Many of them seemed to be in awe at him winning the game, but some of the others were asking to make sure he hadn't pulled something. There were so many speaking, that he had no idea who to respond to first, if any of them. His nervousness began to go through the roof as they came closer and closer, forming a tight circle around him. He felt like a sheep in the center of a pack of wolves. Wolves with party hats and streamers.

“Alright, everypony! Give him some room to breathe!” Twilight pushed her way through the crowd, gently nudging away the quickly formed crowd. “Yes, it's really exciting, but Mort needs some space! Come on, come on...” In mere moments, the crowd had been dispersed almost completely, the ponies breaking into little groups to meet at the food tables or to check on Pinkie Pie, who was still being untangled.

He bowed his head at her. “Thank you,” he breathed gratefully.

“Not a problem, Mort,” she said, with a gentle smile. “And nice job out there! You really are the first one to ever win against Pinkie Pie, and not a lot of ponies get out of there without pulling something. Speaking of which...” She tilted her head sideways, and he realized with some panic she was looking at where his legs would be. “Are you okay? I mean, Pinkie's one thing, but doing that last move back there looked...well, painful.”

“Oh, it's nothing, really. I'm fine,” he said, quickly. “What about Pinkie Pie? Is she going to be okay? She's...not going to be mad or anything about what happened, is she?”

“Pfft, Pinkie Pie? Angry? She'll be fine. Maybe a little sore, in the physical sense, but that's it.” She turned around, and motioned for him to follow. “Come on, let's get you cooled off already. That must've been a doozy for you.”

“Oh, um, definitely,” he said, following her to a little table at the other end of the room. It was round in shape, and had in the center of it a juice bowl brimming with ice, and a couple ladles sticking out and leaning on the rims, while surrounding it were stacks of upside-down plastic cups. Twilight's horn flared as she took a cup, and poured some juice into it before floating it near Mort.

“Thanks, Twilight!” Before Mort could take the juice, a scaly hand suddenly shot out from underneath, grabbing the cup. Spike took a swig of the juice, wiping away what wasn't swallowed with his arm. “Boy, you have no idea how strenuous that game can be!”

“I'm sure,” Twilight said dryly, giving Mort an apologetic look. Mort simply shrugged, nonplussed. Shades didn't sweat, or even thirst for that matter. In that way, Spike really did need it more than him. He didn't refuse the next cup offered to him, however, and he floated it near him, swirling the iced juice inside.

It was while he was doing this that he noticed a pair of purple eyes staring at him, from the table. They belonged to a baby alligator that was slowly swishing his tail back and forth, his eyes never blinking once.

“Uh...what's that doing here?” he asked, looking at Twilight.

“Oh, that's just Gummy,” the librarian informed him, pouring some juice for herself. “Don't worry, he doesn't have any teeth or anything.”

“Well, that's good.” He turned to look back at Gummy, thinking back to how the other animals reacted in his presence. Gummy, contrary to them, seemed content enough to just stare at him, though Mort swore he saw Gummy's eyelids closing just the tiniest bit. Like he was trying to narrow his eyes, while using the most minimal amount of effort possible. Ultimately, Gummy simply spun around and stared at the wall instead.

“Mort, was it? That was simply incredible, dear.” Mort followed the soothing voice towards a rose pink, earth mare with a light blue mane, held in place by a white band. Her cutie mark was a white lotus in blue outlines. Beside her was another mare, looking exactly the same, but whose colors were swapped around. He didn't need to scan them to know they were related.

“Oh, Aloe, Lotus! So nice you two were able to be here.” Twilight gave the two of them a quick hug before turning back to Mort. “Mort, this is Aloe and Lotus. They run the beauty spa in town, and they're just incredible with their work.”

“I have to say, Mort, we rarely see a pony as flexible as you,” Lotus said, her azure eyes twinkling. “How do you do it? Is there a special, meditative practice you use?”

“Oh, uh, I don't know. Just comes naturally to me, I guess.” Having a complete lack of muscle and sinew also helped. “Exercising doesn't hurt, either. Not to mention it helps you live longer, in my experience.”

“You certainly get a lot of that, from what I hear.” Another new, cheerful voice came from an earth mare with a fuchsia coat, sporting a trio of smiling daises for a cutie mark and a curled, rose pink mane. “I'm Cheerilee, by the way. Pinkie Pie was saying something about you being a delivery colt or something...?”

“Collector, to be exact,” Twilight said, using a ladle to pour juice into a pair of cups, one of which she passed to Mort using her magic. “Mort,” she said, after taking a sip, “Cheerilee here is a teacher at the school house in Ponyville. You taking it easy today, Cheerilee?”

“Oh, I wish,” she sighed, but not without humor. “I was grading yesterday's tests this morning, but wouldn't you know it? My red marker ran out.”

Twilight oohed sympathetically. “Well, that doesn't sound good...”

“Oh no, no, I had it for a while. My students are a little better than that,” the teacher said with a wink. “Still, I needed an excuse to get out and take a little break. And when I heard about this little shindig, well...” She shrugged her shoulders, giggling in an embarrassed fashion. “Not quite model behavior for a teacher, is it?”

“Hey, everypony needs to unwind now and again. Especially you,” Twilight said, pouring another cup of juice and passing it to Cheerilee.

“We would know,” Lotus said, with a knowing smile. “You'd be surprised what sort of knots we'd find in her back.”

“Now, now, sister,” Aloe chided gently. “Remember, client confidentiality.”

“Oh, it's okay!” Cheerilee said with a dismissive wave of her hoof, soon using it to balance the cup the unicorn passed to her. “It's not a big deal. And she's right, anyway. Hunching over all those papers for so long can really get to you. How's the juice, by the way?”

Mort was so absorbed in the conversation that it took him a moment to realize Cheerilee was talking to him. “Uh, w-what was that?”

“The juice. Is it okay?”

“Oh, uh...” He looked at the cup he was still levitating, and took an experimental sip. It slipped through the teeth, and flowed into his body, where he formed it into a little sphere that could be poured out later. He wasn't sure how to respond; it was definitely a grape juice (Neighagara grapes, to be exact), but he wouldn't know what the “taste” was. Sweet, sour, tart and so many other descriptors were outside the realm of his experience when it came to biological senses.

“Um...it's...grapey,” he hazarded, finally, swishing the cup around, bracing for an odd stare.

Cheerilee did look at him oddly, but only for a moment before bursting into giggles. “Grapey! Of course! Well, that's good enough for me!” She bit at the edge of the cup and tilted it up, sipping for a few seconds before bringing it back down. She sat it on the table, licked her lips, and said, “Yep, definitely grapey!”

The ponies nearby laughed. Mort shuffled his hooves, not sure how to take it. Was she being serious? Did she think it was funny? If it was, was it funny like a joke, or funny because it seemed so foolish? Should he laugh too? Apologize? Maybe he shouldn't say anything...

He was so preoccupied with how to respond, he almost didn’t notice a slightly guilty look crossing Cheerilee's face. “Oh, Mort, I'm only kidding around! You're fine, really!”

“Oh! Um, good, that's good! Yeah, uh, good...” He tried to think of more to say, anything to say. He thought back again to Luna telling him to talk about interests.“So, um, you're teacher? What kind of age group?”

“Oh, it's mostly foals,” she replied, a warm smile on her face. “They're the most fun to teach, if you want my opinion. They're just brimming with so much curiosity and imagination, and I love how even the simplest things can be so amazing for them at that age. And you get to know all of them and watch them grow up...” She sighed in content. “There's just really nothing else like it.”

Mort nodded along, thinking of his own experiences with them. The innocence and simple joy they radiated always gave him a nice, tingling sensation, always making him feel more upbeat when they were nearby. It was also nice to see them throughout the years, as they slowly grew into adults with their own lives and families.

On the other side of the coin, however, there were the times he had to collect them. He dreaded reaping foals more than most other ponies. It wasn't because they took it any worse than adults; on average, they actually accepted what happened better than the adults. Perhaps their immaturity meant that couldn't grasp the full gravity of the situation, or perhaps foals were just more ready to accept a situation they had no control over.

No, what really got to him was that when he came across them, he couldn't help but feel the world had somehow become even emptier than it should have. There was so much they could have done, so many ponies they could have met, a literal lifetime of potential experiences just gone. It was akin to finding the trunk of a mere sapling, with the full knowledge that it could have grown into a large oak. Only the void it could have filled was all that more obvious.

He was certain the universe wasn't cruel, just largely apathetic. He supposed that made the universe “fair”, in the sense it didn't have a conscious part in anything good or ill. Still, he couldn't help but feel something was intrinsically unfair about foals dying. Sometimes he just wanted...

He quietly squashed that line of thought. A shade didn't judge. The only thing that mattered about death was simply whether or not it actually happened. Whether or not it was “fair” was unimportant, and changed nothing about it.

Still...

“Mort?”

Mort cleared his head, and saw that Twilight and the others were now staring at him. Cheerilee herself looked concerned, and it took a moment for him to realize that it was her that had said his name.

“Are you alright?” she asked, coming closer. “You kinda spaced out a minute ago.”

“Oh, sorry, I'm alright, just...y'know, thinking,” he said, trying to appear unconcerned. “Um, anyway, I think what you do is pretty amazing, Cheerilee. Not everypony can handle a couple foals, much less a whole class of them. I can only imagine what that's like.”

Cheerilee's cheeks colored and she giggled in embarrassment. “Oh, it's not that big a deal. And I'm sure a nice stallion like yourself will have a chance to raise his own little colt or filly someday.”

“Not really. I can't have foals.”

Once again, he had said something without thinking, and instantly came to regret it. As soon as his words sank in, the others were staring at him. It was a more subdued version of the reaction he got from Big Mac when he said he didn't get paid.

“You can't have children?” Aloe asked, with a sad twinge in her voice. “Why not? Did something happen?”

“Um...w-well...” He looked between the gathered ponies, and took another sip of his juice, thinking desperately of a way to explain it. There were probably dozen of reasons why a pony couldn't have children: vows of celibacy, past trauma, birth defects, injuries, maybe a phobia even. Which would be the easiest to use without creating even more holes, though?

Sipping a now empty cup, its ice and juice coalescing within his body, his eyes darted around the room for anything that might help. They caught a pinata hanging from the wall, yet to be busted. It was a rainbow of colors, with a short little tail and two horns on its head. A bull.

“It was...an accident,” he said, slowly, forming the story in his head. “I was...uh, going to an auction out near the town of Maredrid during their own winter wrap-up. Uh, you know, when they want to wake up the hibernating animals, they have the bulls go running everywhere.”

“Ooh, I heard about that!” Twilight gushed with a scholarly glint in her eye. “I love how every town has their own way of changing the seasons! You wouldn't believe what they come up—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Spike said, interrupting her lecture. “That's interesting, but what does that have to do...” Spike trailed off his, his eyes widening in horror. “No way! Don't tell me your 'accident' was...”

“Well,” he started, indifferently, “when I was there, I had just finished dropping my stuff off at an apartment, and went looking for the auction house. But I was a little short on time, and decided to take a short cut. That was a big mistake, because the next thing I know, I have an army of bulls charging down the street towards me. I panicked and tried to outrun them instead of ducking into a house or something, and one of the bulls behind me had his horns really low and—”

“No more, no more!” Spike cried, sounding pained as he covered his ears.

“That's...that's so awful!” Lotus said, looking horrified, as did the others. “It's a miracle you're even alive!”

“Oh yeah, I know, trust me. I mean, it could've been a lot worse.” He said that part with absolute conviction. He had reason to be there during the bull runs, after all, though it sometimes amazed him that a pony would explicitly die from it only once or twice a decade. “But, you know, I recovered well enough, so it all worked out.”

“Yeah, but still...” Spike winced again, gritting his teeth. The reaction made Mort feel a tad guilty. Maybe he should've gone with something less graphic...

“Well, you have my deepest sympathies, Mort,” Cheerilee said, placing a comforting hoof on his shoulder. “I really hope that didn't sour your feelings about Maredrid. I hear it's such a gorgeous city!”

“You've been to Maredrid?” It came from Carrot Top, who was joining them. “Oh, I love that place! Me and my friends try to go there at least once a year, if we can.”

“Yes, it really can be a nice city. I was just telling them—”

“No more,” Spike begged from atop his companion’s head, his hands held together in a pleading fashion. “Please, anything but that again.”

“Well, I'm sure Mort's been to tons of places,” Twilight said, giving Mort an expectant look. “Maybe you could tell us a few...uh… less painful, stories?”

More ponies were beginning to circle around them, their eyes on him. Mort felt his insides twisting into nervous knots, but at the same time realized that the ponies around him were legitimately interested in what he had to say. He did like telling Luna and Celestia stories about the things he saw, but had felt he couldn't do that in Ponyville, lest he let something about his true nature slip. Then again, he had made up the Maredrid story well enough...

“Well...” He paused to clear his throat, and also to think of another experience he had. “There was this one time I had to go to Hoofton. You know, all the way down south? One of their hottest summers ever. You could turn a faucet on and the water would evaporate before it even hit the sink...”

It wasn't as hard as he feared. He had collected souls for thousands of years, visiting the largest and most famous cities countless times. There had always been something going on that seemed curious or funny to him. And he was relieved to see that the crowd thought so as well, more often than not.

What was better, the story didn't even have to be funny. It could just be him relating his visit to some famous landmark, and telling them what it was like. Of course, he didn't tell what really brought him to those places most of the time, but had still seen enough to enthrall his audience.

Sometimes, he would risk relating a story about a pony who was going to die, but due to sheer luck was able to beat the odds and survive, sometimes completely unscathed. (While he is happy when this happens, it can be aggravating when it renders a cross-country trip utterly pointless.) The more ridiculous the circumstances, the better.

He was now telling them a story of one of his trips to Manehatten. The nervousness he had felt before then was almost completely gone now, and he was now, in fact, enjoying the attention.

“—and so, this fire? It was getting out of control. Spreading from the kitchen and through the rest of the restaurant. Everpony had gotten out, of course, and firefighters were on the way, but this one guy, uh, an earth pony, he had to run back in. He was going to meet up with his fillyfriend there, you see. He had this ring and everything picked out and was going to propose to her. But he had left the ring inside.” He paused for dramatic effect, seeing a roomful of eyes hanging on his every word.

“So,” he continued, “he ran back inside, to get it, right? Everypony saw it, but they didn't want to run in after him because, well, there's a fire going on! So finally the firefighters get there, they start getting the hoses ready when, all of a sudden, the restaurant practically explodes, busting every remaining window and everything. Everypony thought the guy was done for. His fillyfriend was even there, and she was going into hysterics.”

There was utter silence in the room. Everypony stared at him, waiting with bated breath. What came next was his favorite part:

“So, just as they finally get the hoses going, guess what happens? That pony from before? He comes stumbling out of the building, covered in ash and burns, but one-hundred percent alive. Do you know what saved him? He liked to go around with this silly, top hat of his—well, it's Manehatten, so it wasn't silly for them—all the time. And on his way out, it dropped off his head and rolled in front of this overturned table. The guy, ignoring every survival instinct in his body, went after it out of pure habit. The moment he crouched down to pick it up, that explosion happened, and that table was able to block most of the heat and fire. If he had actually kept running out like he 'ought' of, it would have fried him!

“And that's still nothing compared to what happened next. The first thing he does, the very first thing he does? He shows his fillyfriend that ring he ran in for, and proposes for her right there.” The end of the story was met with cheers and clopping from the ponies in the room, and Mort himself felt a little giddy as he recalled the memory. The pony really was supposed to die that day, but at the last moment, some neuron had misfired and the pony had thought about getting his hat, rather than to keep running. It was those instances, those million-to-one chances that sometimes meant the difference between life and death.

He glanced to the side, and saw that Spike was wiping a tear from his eye, and Twilight was floating him a napkin to use as a makeshift tissue. “It was one of the most amazing things I've ever seen,” he said, taking a sip from his cup of juice. “The guy made the front page and everything, they were calling him the luckiest stallion in Manehatten. Though, back then they called it Amsterdame, but y'know, same difference.” He took another sip and glanced back at Twilight again, though this time she had her head tilted to one side, giving him a confused look.

“Mort!” Before he could contemplate it further, Pinkie Pie suddenly came rushing out of nowhere, a thin piece of cloth draped over her snout. “That was one of the best, most romantic stories I ever heard! Wow! I hope they went on to have lots and lots of bitty, bouncy foals after something like that!”

“Me too,” he agreed. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Oh yeah, loads better! That was one of the funnest games I've ever played! We should do it again sometime!” Pinkie Pie started to bounce around him in circles, the cloth flapping around. “Anyway, the Cakes are finishing up your extra special cake, and we still have time for one more game before they bring it out!”

“And you're okay with that?” he asked, voicing caution. “I mean, this won't involve anypony getting tied in knots...right?”

“Nope, but it's still tons of fun!” He stopped himself from asking how becoming a pony pretzel would be fun, and let her lead him over to a wall, where other ponies were gathering. Hanging on it was a poster of a pony, though it omitted the tail completely. “My favorite game, Pin the Tail on the Pony!”

“Pin the...oh, right! Yeah, that's what it is.” This, at least, was a game he was a little familiar with. He had never actually played it, of course, but he had seen it from time to time, and it was easy to see the goal of the game. And he wouldn't have to worry about his limbs being in places they couldn't go.

“Let's get started!” Pinkie Pie reached out to a table near the poster, and scooped up a mock tail with a pin stuck through it. “Now, you go ahead and grab this, Mort. Magic's fine, of course.”

Mort nodded, and summoned an aura around the fake tail, taking it from Pinkie Pie's hoof. “It's a nice shade of blue.”

“Thanks! It's the same shade of blue in my cutie mark! Can you help get this tied around his eyes, Twilight?” Pinkie Pie blew through her nostrils, and the fabric strip on her nose flew up. At its height, it was caught in Twilight’s magical aura, before floating near Mort.

He looked between the cloth and the unicorn. “Um, I don't have to pull my hood down or anything, right?”

“Don't worry about a thing. If I slide it through here, then...” The fabric stretched out in front of Mort, and drifted forward until it was pressed against his eyes. The ends of the blindfold were then wrapped around the rest of his skull, until they were tied up in a knot.

Pinkie Pie slapped both forehooves on Mort's shoulders, looking at him with a wide smile on her face. “Are you ready, Mort?”

“Uh, just one second...” Even with his eyes blindfolded, Mort could still technically “see” his surroundings. His horn was always collecting data from the room and ponies, and it was far more informative than simple sight. With his sight gone, his myriad of other senses were now taking over to account for it. However, since being blind was part of the game, he had to work to block those senses. Or at least the ones that made the location of the poster obvious.

He concentrated, trying to parse the myriad of information his horn was gathering. There were the sources of heat, and how much was actually being emitted. There was how everything in the electromagnetic spectrum reacted to everything else, whether it was being absorbed or reflected. There was the flow of air and change in atmosphere from being moved around or occupied by something much more solid. There was the molecular makeup of every living and non-living thing in the vicinity...

He willed himself to stop paying attention to all of it, one by one, until finally all that remained was sound, and even that had to be reigned in to prevent accidental echolocation. By the time he was through, the world had become an empty void, with a little background chatter.

He was proud of himself for a few moments, feeling somewhat smug for having so much control over his senses, though a moment later another thought began to take hold. Even in the most pitch black nights, or inside the deepest tunnels or mines in Equestria, he always knew exactly what was around him. He never had a fear of the dark, because the “dark” never existed for him. Light wasn't something he used to see, it was just another aspect of a world that was laid bare before him.

Now, for the first time in his existence, he was completely blind. He no longer had a solid idea where anything was. The world was, from his perspective, utterly gone.

It was a little frightening, to say the least.

“Ready now?” Pinkie Pie asked, sounding unable to hold her excitement.

He jumped a little, not knowing that Pinkie Pie had moved so quickly behind him. He felt his body shake as he struggled to both remain calm, and to keep himself solid. (Was he solid? He couldn't see anypony's reaction anymore. They weren't literally seeing through him, were they?) He really, really didn't like this. Not one bit.

“A-actually—”

“Then here were go!” Mort couldn't utter a protest before Pinkie Pie wrapped her hooves around him, and gave a strong pull that sent him spiraling. He yelped in terror as he felt the world spinning around him, his bones feeling like jelly. He was half-afraid a limb would accidentally fly out and strike somepony.

Just as suddenly as it began, it stopped as a pair of surprisingly strong hooves grabbed his shoulders. He was just able to stop his own head from spinning a couple more times. When he was certain his head was facing the right way (mostly because he hadn't heard any horrified sounds from the others), he asked aloud, “What was that for?!”

“Sorry! I just love that part of the game!” Who he assumed was Pinkie Pie began to enthusiastically lead him forward, and Mort had to work to stop himself from tripping over his robes. “You just feel like your whole brain is spinning! Isn't it fun?”

“Sure, fun,” he muttered dourly. “How am I supposed to know where the pony is now?”

“Oh, you're never spun away from the pony. That'd just be unfair! And kinda dangerous, too. You might slip on some cake and crash into the kitchen. Like Gilda. Ooh! Did we tell you about Gilda yet? She was this griffon—”

“Uh, Pinkie Pie, let's just let him play the game, okay?” Twilight’s voice drifted close, and then drifted away, their hooves clopping on the wooden floor, leaving Mort to stand alone.

He heard the excited chatter and encouragement from the crowd around him, and he couldn't help but turn where it became loudest, hoping there might be some sort of clue as to where to go. One pony said, “Dead ahead,” another said, “A little to your right,” and others were giggling that he was looking the wrong way.

After a few more turns, it suddenly dawned on him that he was gradually losing focus on where Pinkie Pie had pointed him in the first place. He tried to right himself back to where he was, but felt he had gone too far, and tried turning in the other direction. The more he tried to correct himself, the more lost he felt.

He had half a mind to simply switch a few of his sense back on and finish the whole thing. He remembered how the others had looked at him when he tripped in the library. He imagined how foolish he looked. He couldn't bear to do something like that again in front of so many more ponies.

And yet another part was reminding him that he was a The Pale Pony of Death. Yes, the other ponies didn't know that, and only a few shades would even care what happened, but still, if he could traverse the entire world several times over to collect souls on time, he could surely complete this game without having to resort to cheating. Part of this experience was about being able to fit in with the ponies, and that's what he was going to do, even if it meant pinning the tail on the pony's nostrils.

“Over here, Mort!” Twilight’s voice was like a beacon in the dark, and he instantly turned towards her voice. “It's over here!”

“Woo! You can do it, Morty!” Pinkie Pie cheered. “Pin that pony! Show it who's boss!”

“Y-yeah.” Then, again with more feeling, “Yeah!” Floating the tail in front of him, he followed their voices, hearing the voices of others growing louder and more excited.

He could almost envision it: ponies crowding around the poster, where up front there would be Pinkie Pie, standing next to Twilight. And beside them would be the poster of a prancing pony, one that looked awfully happy about the prospects of getting pinned.

“You're almost there!” Pinkie Pie elated. “Just a few more feet, and—ooh!”

“What is it, Pinkie?” her lavender friend asked.

“My eyebrows are bouncing!” Mort was a little distracted by the sudden change in conversation, but then refocused his thoughts on the game. The two of them were getting louder now, and that could only mean he was getting closer. He could practically feel the poster board coming up.

“Um, what do bouncing eyebrows mean?” Spike asked, a hint of worry in his voice.

“I dunno,” Pinkie Pie answered, sounding curious herself. Mort had a feeling he was missing something, but he could ask them after he pinned the tail. He raised the tail, visualizing his target...

Pinkie Pie hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe it means—”

“Hiiyah!” he cried, thrusting forward. He felt it struck something, and heard a collective gasp from everypony in the room. He hurriedly reached for the blindfold, getting the tip of his hoof under it, and at the same time began to will his senses back into being. “Did I get it? How did IAHHHH!”

As it turned out, he had pinned a pony, but the one on the poster board was as bare as it was before. The pink, earth pony next to it, however, was now sporting a pair of tails, one made of curly hair, and the other of flat paper.

Pinkie Pie's eyes darted to the tail pinned to one of the balloons on her cutie mark, then back to a gawking Twilight and Spike. “Oh,” she said, in realization, “so that's what it means! Good to know.” She nodded approvingly, seeming satisfied.

Then a moment later her pupils shrunk to pinpoints, and she leaped high into the air, her hair spazzing out in all directions as she shrieked in pain. The other ponies watched in fascinated horror as the party pony hopped around the floor, every landing followed by an agonized mantra.

“There's a pin in my butt there's a pin in my butt there's a pin in my BUTT!” She landed close to Caramel, who on reflex took several, wobbly steps away. Still recovering from the earlier game, he lost his balance and the back of his head came down on the rounded edge of a small, drink table behind him. It was enough to turn the furniture into an impromptu catapult, launching its contents through the air.

Several ponies were unfortunate enough to be standing nearby, and many of the cups splattered across them, sending grape juice everywhere. Aloe, more unfortunate than the others, got a face-full of alligator as Gummy flew towards her, biting down on the mare's snout. Teeth or no teeth, it still frightened Aloe into hysterics and she dashed across the room screaming, with the baby reptile hanging on by his gums. Her sister chased after her, fruitlessly telling her sibling to stop.

Mort stood stock still, watching Pinkie Pie and Aloe knock down ponies and furniture alike, as others slipped on the splattered sweets and spilled juice on the ground. The juice bowl had spilled near his hooves, soaking them and sending ice cubes everywhere.

He couldn't believe he had caused this. Part of him was sick over the fact that he had caused tangible, physical harm to another pony. They were never, ever supposed to hurt another pony.

And he would feel more awful about it, too, if the rest of him wasn't reeling over the chaos it had caused. Food was getting splattered and strewn across the floor every time Pinkie Pie landed, each bounce punctuated by something or somepony getting knocked over. Those trying to avoid her would run into each other or slip on something on the ground, colliding with the wall, furniture, or just collapsing in a heap.

One act of violence—unintended violence, at that—should not cause this much mayhem. (Unless it was against archdukes. Those never turned out well in his experience.) He was not a paranoid individual, but he honestly felt that this had been set up by something. And it was laughing at him.

He barely noticed Twilight walking up beside him with Spike, both of them gaping at the scene as well. “What have I done?!” he lamented, collapsing to his knees.

“You pinned Pinkie Pie!” Spike said, still staring at the spectacle.

“I know that!” he snapped.

Twilight watched Pinkie Pie, her eyes following every bounce. Her horn flared, and the party banner on the ceiling glowed with a purple light as it was torn from its anchors. As Pinkie Pie came down from another hop, Twilight moved the banner underneath her. Pinkie Pie landed in it, her legs dangling over the sides of the banner as she continued to squeak in pain.

Mort took another look around the room, feeling his spirits sink lower and lower: the bakery looked as if a tornado had gone through, sparing almost nothing. The floor and even parts of the wall were stained with confectioneries and juice, and some tables were overturned. Some ponies couldn't find their balance on the slippery ground, and those that had were still covered in crushed, sticky treats.

Pinkie Pie ceased her squeaking as her tail suddenly began to shake fiercely, spraying crumbs and drops of juice. The pink pony watched it a moment, her eyes widening in terror. “Twitchy tail! Twitchy tail!”

“What?! But...!” Mort watched perplexedly as Twilight, Spike and several, other ponies began to looking towards the ceiling fearfully, some dashing under one of the few tables that hadn't been toppled.

“What's going on?” he asked, looking up as well, surmising it was a well built, but still unremarkable, ceiling. “What's that mean?”

“What is going on out there?!” The kitchen doors swung open, making way for a simple, serving trolley that was carrying a large cake, made of smaller layers stacked on top of one another. It was covered in white frosting, with blue and green frosting decorating the perimeter of each layer. The smallest, top layer was lined with freshly lit candles.

Mrs. Cake followed after it, looking slightly frazzled. “I know it's a party, but there's no need for the racket we just—”

She was interrupted by the muffled screams of Aloe, who in her ongoing panic didn't notice the stout pony, or the cake she had just brought out. The Lotus sister collided with the older mare, sending the two of them floundering towards the ground, and in their fall, shoving the trolley forward.

Caramel was just beginning to recover when he saw the trolley barreling towards him. He gasped and dove towards the ground, shielding his face and leaving his rear exposed. The trolley came to a sudden stop as it hit him, but not its frosted passenger, as the large cake was catapulted into the air, and flung towards a speechless, lavender unicorn.

Time seemed to slow for Mort. The four layer cake was plummeting towards Twilight like a wayward comet, leaving a buttercream tail in its wake. The unicorn and her assistant were frozen in place, staring agape at what may as well been their frost-covered doom. Mort briefly wondered how he could explain to Celestia that he had, inadvertently, caused her most prized and faithful student get buried in a large cake.

The answer: he couldn't.

“STOP!”

A blinding, green light erupted from his horn. He didn't know how much magic he was using, nor did he care. All he cared about at the moment was stopping the cake. The magic flowed out of him, enveloping everything in a green glow.

When the light faded, Mort stood stock still. Nearly everything that wasn't bolted down was now floating in the air, including plates, pastries, presents, and ponies. Dozens of eyes were now staring at Mort in shock, and a few in fear. A thick silence pervaded the room.

“Mort?” The shade looked up to see Twilight and her assistant now floating above him, enveloped in the same, green glow as the others. The cake was up there too, still in one piece, and not splattered over a faithful student.

“Um...” Mort cleared his throat, and carefully began to put everything back. Tables that has been overturned in the chaos were now set upright, their contents (or what was left of them) put back where they were. Napkins were flown around, wiping up the floor, walls, and the ponies themselves, before the latter were gently set back down. Gummy was dislodged from Aloe's face, and another napkin wiped away the saliva. Twilight and Spike floated down, landing right beside him.

Soon, Mort let go of everything but the cake. If a pony could ignore the empty punch bowls, the torn and stained table clothes, the smashed sweets, the stuffed trash bins, and the overwhelming silence, the room looked the way it did before Mort was blindfolded.

“S-sorry about that, everypony,” he said, trying to ignore how they were all still staring at him. “Uh, l-let's just start over, okay?”

Twilight looked at him oddly. “Mort, how did you...?”

“It's no big deal,” he said with false cheer. “Forget about it! The important thing is I caught the cake and we can all—”

Mort thought he had accounted for everything when he was putting things away. However, even the best of ponies could be so focused on the larger picture, that they would fail to see what was right under their nose.

This was literally the case for Mort, as he didn't notice the ice cube until he was already slipping on it.

The next instant he was falling face first into the floor, landing with a solid thump. That was followed a second later by a splat from where Twilight and Spike were. Mort flinched immediately, knowing exactly what had happened. He slowly raised his face from the ground, and looked to see the large cake standing tall on the floor, virtually undisturbed.

The cake jiggled, and then the second-topmost layer of the cake rose up from the main body, supported by the head of a dazed unicorn, who draped her forelegs over the body of the cake. The layer on top of that one then rose above, balancing on the head of a baby dragon, who was also similarly dazed.

“I didn't...I-I mean, I wasn't...I...I...” Given a few minutes, Mort would be able to determine the atomic make-up of every object and creature inside the room, but given a lifetime, he would still have no idea what to say to Twilight at that moment. Ashamed and fearing Twilight's reaction, he did the only thing he could think of then.

He quickly spun around, and without another word, rushed towards the door, focused only on escaping. Seeing the solid barrier, his body began to shift into an intangible state, completely forgetting that normal ponies didn't walk through doors...

******

“We made it!” Applejack exclaimed, slowing to catch her breath as Sugarcube Corner's entrance became visible. The moment she and Rarity found out about Pinkie Pie's surprise party, the two of them wasted no time trying to get to Sugarcube Corner. A number of worst-case scenarios had been running through Applejack's mind, and while she wrote most of them off as being a bit too pessimistic, there was still a bit of lingering doubt.

Rarity soon slowed to a trot behind her, sweating harder than the farm pony, but none-the-less was able to recover enough to look as dignified as ever. Applejack had to admit that for a pony that was cooped up most days, the mare was in remarkable shape and was able to keep up better than most.

Rarity swiveled her ears, a look of concern crossing her face. “Oh dear, I don't hear anything. Since when does that happen at Pinkie Pie's parties?”

“Happens 'bout as often as Big Mac wearin' a dress,” Applejack said, looking to the windows for any idea of what was going on. Her view was obscured by the ponies inside, and it was clear there were a lot of ponies. “Welp, let's see what's goin' on in there.”

“Hey, AJ!” The two of them looked up, seeing a familiar, cyan pegasus drifting towards them, though at an unusually slow (or rather, slower) pace. The reason became apparent as Rainbow Dash came in for a landing, revealing the yellow pegasus draped over her back.

“Fluttershy!” Rarity moved towards the meek pegasus as she carefully climbed off Rainbow Dash's back. “Gracious dear, did something happen?”

“Oh, um, well...” Fluttershy blushed, avoiding Rarity's inquiring look.

“I'll explain later,” Rainbow Dash interjected quickly, and fixed Applejack with a serious look. “Did anything bad go down while we were gone?”

“Don't know, sug'. We just got here ourselves.” She started towards the door, with Rainbow Dash catching up beside her. “Only thing Ah can tell is that it's too darn quiet.”

“No kidding.” The two of them reached the door, and Rainbow Dash reached out to open it. “What do you think's going on in—”

Just as the door was pushed open, the two of them shouted in surprise as something black came rushing out the door, obscuring everything. Applejack lost her balance and fell on her back, her body feeling like it had just been run through with frigid ice, and an unusual metallic taste in her mouth. For a moment, her mind was flooded with the memories of family and friends she had known, but could never see again.

Just as quickly, the memories passed, and she was left staring into the clear sky. Blinking away unexpected tears, she got back on her hooves, and saw Rainbow Dash doing the same. The flier got back on her unsteady hooves, looking towards where the black thing had run off.

“What the hay was that?” she asked breathlessly.

“Are you two okay?!” Rarity and Fluttershy ran up to them. Rarity reached down to grab Applejack's hat in her teeth, and laid it on the farmer's head. “What happened?”

“That's what Ah want to know,” Applejack said, as feeling began to return to her limbs. “Was that Mort or somethin'?” It was the only conclusion she could come to. She could easily imagine his cloak billowing out like that.

Still, whatever came out did not seem to be draped in cloth. It certainly didn't feel like it. And what she did feel didn't brush past her, but go around her, like smoke, vapor, or...

“Applejack? Is that you?” Applejack was shaken from her thoughts when she heard Twilight’s voice coming from the doorway. She spun around, ready to ask what had happened, but her voice got caught in her throat when the librarian actually walked out. The unicorn seemed to be wearing what was left of a cake, bits of it falling off with every step she took. Spike, sulking on top of her, wore a small cake on his head, decorated with candles that were still lit.

“Goodness, Twilight!” Rarity gasped, looking her up and down. “You look like somepony dropped a cake on you!”

“Gee, you think?” the unicorn replied sarcastically.

“Wow, what'd we miss?” Rainbow Dash hovered above them, blowing out the candles on top of Spike's head. “Do we even want to know?”

“The party got crashed,” a melancholy voice said in response, and from the door Pinkie Pie slowly trotted out, her head hung low. “I thought that didn't happen if everypony was invited.”

“Um, Pinkie Pie?” Fluttershy asked, sounding uncertain. “Why do you have two tails?”

Applejack gave a start, noticing the paper tail hanging from Pinkie Pie's flank. The pink pony winced, and simply said, “Pin the Tail on the Pony isn't so much fun for the pony after all. Owchies.”

Twilight sighed, sounding a little irritated. “Did anypony see where Mort went to?”

“So that was Mort?” Rarity asked, looking behind her. “I'm sorry dear, we saw him come out, but he was gone so quickly!”

Rainbow Dash whistled. “Wow, he can really move if he wants to, huh?”

“Well now we’ve got to find him and...I don't know, do something!” Twilight groaned in frustration, stomping her front hooves. “I don't get it! This was supposed to be easy! Why is it so hard all of a sudden?!”

“We'll find him, Twi'. Don' you worry none,” Applejack assured her, patting her shoulders. “But before we do, Ah think the two of you need to get cleaned up.” She glanced at the paper tail stilled pin to Pinkie Pie's flank. “Uh, Ah reckon a first aid kit wouldn't be a bad idea either.”

The Gang's Back Together

With Pinkie Pie's party over, the town slowly started to return to its normal routine. Ponies were on their way to shop for their groceries, dine at the cafes, or simply relax in the afternoon sun. The town was abound in gossip after what had happened, and one couldn’t walk a few feet without overhearing a story about Pinkie’s party. If they weren’t talking about its unusual guest of honor, they were sharing how Pinkie Pie got pinned, or how the star resident of Ponyville had been buried underneath a huge cake.

Twilight Sparkle was sitting in the town square, catching mist from the fountain to stay cool. Spike rested on top of her, quill and parchment ready in his hands. Everypony else had been sent out to search around Ponyville for Mort. When they couldn’t find a trace of him after he fled, splitting up was the only thing to do. They mostly targeted some businesses that had to stay open, and Pinkie Pie was tasked to find anyone that didn’t make it to the party, like some cows and Cranky Doodle. They were all supposed to meet back here within half-an-hour, or sooner if they found him.

The entire time, Twilight had been dealing with ponies left and right. They either wanted to know what happened to Mort, or if she was upset about what happened. Every time, she explained that everything was fine between them, no harm was done, and that they should all mind their own business and butt out.

She never quite worded it that way, but she had been sorely tempted to do so.

It didn’t help matters that it was a kinda-sorta fib: she didn’t know if things were fine with Mort. He had already told her about how he felt responsible for things not working out thus far. She was now afraid this may have been the final straw, and he was already on his way back to... wherever it was he came from.

She wiped away a few stray beads of sweat, making sure she didn’t accidentally fling them onto Spike. It wasn’t enough that they had lost Mort, but they had also lost him on what was beginning to feel like one of the hottest days of the season so far. Running around only made it feel worse. More than once she had just wanted to scream.

She wasn’t quite ready to break just yet, though.

When she found four of her friends converging on the fountain, she felt a flutter of hope, but it was quickly grounded when she saw their dissapointed expressions, and how none of them were being followed by a cloaked pony.

“Did you girls find out anything?” There was no point in asking them if they had found Mort. She could already guess they hadn’t. “Rarity, did anypony at Quills & Sofas see him?”

Rarity shook her head. “Sorry, dear, the store owner hasn't seen anypony like him all day.”

“Cross it off, Spike.” Spike nodded, scratching the parchment with his quill. Twilight next turned to Pinkie Pie, finding it hard to ignore the small bandage on her right flank. “Did any of the cows seem him, Pinkie? Or Cranky and Matilda?”

Pinkie was smiling, but Twilight knew her long enough to know when it was lacking her usual pep or not. Right now, it was. “Nope, the cows said they’ve been gossiping all day, and haven’t seen anypony. Cranky and Matilda said they've been napping the entire time, too.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Or at least I think that's what Cranky said. It was a little hard to make out through all the shouting.”

“Did you remember to knock on their front door before going inside this time?” Spike asked flatly.

Pinkie Pie looked at him blankly, then lightly bopped her head. “Oh, I knew I forgot something! I should really write that down for next time.”

Twilight’s eyes twitched, not from Pinkie’s actions, but from the lack of anything informative so far. She had only two ponies left to ask. Three, when Rainbow Dash got back. The fact she wasn’t did imply anything good. “Applejack, did any of the market ponies see anything?”

“'Fraid not, sug,” the farm pony said, shrugging sadly. “They hadn't seen anypony since the party. Though Ah did get an earful about how they want some forewarnin’ about Pinkie's parties next time, on account of how it ain’t no fun standin' in this heat when no pony's goin' to do business.”

“Hey, it was an emergency! I did the best I could on short notice,” Pinkie Pie said, sounding hurt.

“Focus, girls,” Twilight stressed. “What about you, Fluttershy? Please tell me you got something?”

Fluttershy scratched her foreleg, attempting to hide behind her mane. “I'm sorry, Twilight. Nurse Redheart hasn't seen him at the clinic, and he hasn’t shown up at the hospital, either.”

Twilight groaned, stomping her hoof in frustration. “I can’t believe this!”

“I take it you didn’t have much better luck at Hortense, then?” Rarity asked sympathetically.

Twilight sighed. “No. None of the patrons had seen him at all, and neither did the waiters. That means we’ve pretty much asked everypony that wasn’t at Sugarcube Corner!” Twilight rubbed her forehead, moaning wearily. “Oh, this is awful...”

“Oh, surely he couldn't have gone too far, dear,” Rarity suggested. “Why don't we just wait for Rainbow Dash and see if she found anything?”

“And speak of the Mare...” Applejack pointed up at something behind Twilight, and when she turned, she saw a familiar pegasus flying towards them, a short rainbow trailing behind her. Twilight braced herself, half-expecting another round of bad news.

“Yo, Twi'!” Rainbow Dash swooped around and slow, hovering just a few feet above them. She was catching her breath, her disheveled mane slick with sweat.

“You have good news for us, RD?” Applejack asked hopefully.

“You bet,” she said, dropping to the ground. Everypony gasped in delight, and leaned in eagerly. Twilight once again felt her hopes rising again, empowered by the confidence in Rainbow Dash’s voice and smirk.

Slicking her mane back, Rainbow Dash announced, “I couldn't find any sign of him outside of Ponyville!”

Everypony gaped at her. Twilight nearly fell forward out of shock and despair. Her hopes hadn’t just grounded, they’d been pummeled ruthlessly. “Rainbow, how in Equestria is that good news?!”

Rainbow Dash didn’t seem the least bit worried. “Think about it! A guy like that is going to stick out like a broken hoof, right? If he were out there, there’s no way I'd miss him!”

Applejack cocked her eyebrow, confused. “What’s yer point, sugarcube?”

Twilight struggled briefly in trying to understand what Rainbow Dash meant, or why it was worth getting excited over. After a few moments, she then discovered what—or at least, what she hoped—was Rainbow Dash’s point. “So what you're saying is if you couldn't find him outside Ponyville...”

Fluttershy gasped. “Then he'd have to still be somewhere inside Ponyville!”

“Exactly,” Rainbow Dash said, with a cocky grin.

“Well, that certainly sounds reasonable,” Rarity said, scratching her chin. “You're absolutely certain he couldn't have gotten too far?”

“No way, he'd have to be way faster than me for that to happen,” Rainbow Dash said, sitting back and spreading her forelegs and wings for emphasis. “I’ll admit, for a guy wrapped up in blankets, he’s pretty quick, but he’d have to be literally flying to get so far out so soon.”

“Well, he sure ain't in the town proper,” Applejack said. “Otherwise somepony would've seen him already. That probably means he has to be in the woods.”

A startled look appeared on Fluttershy. “Y-you don't think he's in the Everfree Forest?”

Twilight bit her lip, feeling a brief moment of terror at such a prospect. The Everfree was filled with voracious monsters, dangerous plantlife, and had a freak weather system that could change from sunny to stormy in an instant. If Mort could barely get by in Ponyville—a town synonymous with safety—there was no way he’d last an hour in the Everfree Forest. They’d be lucky to find his cloak.

“I don't know, Fluttershy,” Spike said doubtfully, leaning back on Twilight. “After what happened with your animals, I don't think he'd want to be anywhere near a bush, much less the Everfree Forest.”

Fluttershy looked down at her hooves guiltily, avoiding perplexed looks from Rarity and Applejack.

“Pardon me, are we missing something?” Rarity asked.

Twilight sighed, and briefly explained to them what had happened at the park, a task made harder by how Fluttershy would sink closer and closer to the ground in shame. When Twilight was done, Rarity and Applejack were left gawking in disbelief.

“They attacked him?” Applejack asked. “Just out of the blue?”

“I know Angel can be a bit rambunctious,” Rarity added, shooting a brief glance at Fluttershy, “but all of them?”

“I-I don't really know, either,” Fluttershy said meekly, her voice almost impossible to hear. “I think Angel was really scared of him, but I'm not sure why...”

“All Mort really did was watch them,” Twilight explained. “No sudden movements, or sounds... he even liked the performance.”

“It’s so weird!” Pinkie Pie said, unable to contain herself. ”Lots of animals are just really grumpy when he's around. Even Gummy was pretty rude today!”

Twilight thought of the torpid baby alligator, who always had a thousand-yard stare, and seemed barely aware of his surroundings at best. “Really? You could tell that?”

Pinkie Pie gasped at her. “You couldn't? I never heard Gummy use that kind of language! He never got it from me, that's for sure!” She hmphed, crossing her forelegs over her chest. “I bet it was Tracy. I keep telling her we have foals in the bakery, but she never—”

Pinkie’s tangent was suddenly interrupted by a loud gurgling noise that filled the air. The ponies looked around in confusion for the source, and all at once looked at Rainbow Dash.

The cyan pegasus quickly became annoyed from the sudden attention. “H-hey, don't look at me like that! I haven't eaten anything since we left the library...”

A moment later, there was a quieter grumble, and this time it was Applejack who was rubbing her own stomach. “All this runnin' around has given me quite the appetite, Twi'. Maybe we should get a bite somewhere right quick?”

“She's right, Twilight,” Rainbow Dash said, emphasizing her point with a quick jab of her elbow into Twilight's side. “Us pegasi gotta keep our energy up, especially when they're as athletic and energetic as me.”

“It won't do Mort any good if we can't stay on our hooves looking for him,” Rarity said. Her stomach gurgled, causing her to gasp and blush all at once. “Oh, excuse me...”

The five of them look at her expectantly. Twilight’s immediate reaction was to grumble. It irritated her that they wanted to stop looking, as every moment spent sitting around meant that Mort could get farther and farther away from them. This was one of her most important assignments of all time, for goodness’ sake!

Then, though, she realized that they had all been doing so much for her already. She hadn’t even asked them to help her last night, but they were still more than eager to help her today, even at their own inconvenience. To tell them no now, after asking so much of them so far, just seemed wrong.

Ultimately, Mort was her responsibility. Not theirs.

“Okay,” she said, smiling to let them know there were no hard feelings. “You’re right. All of you should rest as much as you want. I’ll keep trying to track him down, and if you still want to help—”

“Nuh huh,” Rainbow Dash said, with a serious expression. “You’re not looking for him yourself, Twilight. We’re your friends, and we’re gonna stick by you as long as it takes, dawn to dusk.”

Twilight felt Spike poking the back of her neck. “Come on, Twilight. You’ve been running around all day. You’re going to need more than a few cupcakes to keep you going.”

“Spike’s right!” Pinkie Pie interjected. “Even I gotta eat my grains and veggies to keep going like I do!”

Rarity came to her side, putting a comforting hoof on Twilight's shoulder. “Twilight, we all know you must feel awful about what’s happened, but you have to help yourself if you want to help Mort.”

“Everything will work out,” Fluttershy told her, smiling reassuringly.

Twilight sniffed, feeling the beginning of tears. She quickly wiped them away. “T-thank you, girls...”

Applejack adjusted her Stetson. “Well, now that we got that out of the way, how ‘bout we head up to the farm? It's about lunch time anyway, and Ah’d hate to put all that food to waste. We could get ourselves a quick bite, and then plan on what to do next. An’ you never know, we might even spot Mort on the way there!”

Twilight nodded, and followed her friends as they started towards the apple farm. The thought of food had made her realize how hungry she felt, and Rarity was right: it wouldn’t do them any good if she collapsed today.

For now, she could only wonder where Mort was, and what he going through.

Apple Bloom sat in front of the rattling wagon, the wind rolling over her as Scootaloo drove them all along the dirt path, the bumps sometimes tilting her towards Sweetie Belle or back towards Mort. She had been smiling from ear to ear ever since they had left the tree house. It wasn't every day you saw a new pony in town, and an especially odd one at that!

True, most wouldn't consider being “odd” as a compliment, but sometimes Apple Bloom and her friends saw themselves that way. They were still some of the only foals in school to not have a cutie mark yet. Making matters harder to accept was that they had seen a number of even younger foals get their own cutie marks, often at things they had already tried and failed at, which only added to their frustration. Sometimes it made them feel isolated from everypony.

Unfortunately, they had already tried being “loners” to no avail. Seeing Rarity's reaction to their haircuts had made it all worth it, though.

In Mort, she saw a kindred spirit. While they agonized over not having a cutie mark as foals, here was a pony who hadn't had a cutie mark all his life! Whether it was because of “jinetics” or what not, she wouldn't be surprised if it had lead to him being teased or looked down on. Apple Bloom still remembered how humiliated she felt at Diamond Tiara’s cute-ceañera when she didn’t have her cutie mark. She was so ashamed she had to wear a table cloth just to hide it. Look at Mort, though! He was wrapped head to toe in a hot looking cloak so no pony could see he was a blank flank!

It just wasn't right! A pony like that needed something more than just a cutie mark. He needed friends. And from the way he talked about coming to Ponyville, he sounded in desperate need of them. Maybe he could even join the Cutie Mark Crusaders!

Then again, he was kinda old. For some reason, she got the impression he was really old, maybe even older than her brother. On the other hoof, they never set an age limit for their group. And even though he said it wasn't possible to get his cutie mark, maybe he just really hadn’t found it yet. They could swap notes on the farm! Surely there had to be a couple things even he hadn't tried.

She looked back at the passenger in question. He sat on his haunches, leaning against the back of the wagon. He was looking ahead with his small, pinkish eyes, smiling from ear to ear. The sunlight glittered off the fancy medal he wore around his neck, studded with a pretty gemstone. It looked pretty expensive. Maybe it was one of those “priceless” things he found?

“Are you enjoyin' the ride?” she asked.

The thin and pale-faced pony slowly nodded his head, humming his approval. She hadn't really noticed it before, but he seemed awfully thin. A few minutes with Granny Smith's cooking should change that, though.

“The path we're taking now goes straight from the clubhouse to the apple farm,” Sweetie Belle explained. The path in question was surrounded by trees on both sides, and some of their roots could be seen cresting the ground. It made the rides bumpy, but still very bearable. “We should be there in a few minutes at this rate!”

“Yep,” Apple Bloom said, nodding. “So just sit back, relax, and enjoy the—”

The sudden stop jolted her from her speech, and she nearly went tumbling out the front of the wagon. She pushed herself back into a sitting position, tilting the helmet back so she could see again. The scooter and wagon had skid sideways, pointing them towards the woods.

“What's the big idea, Scootaloo?” She didn't mean to sound angry, but she figured the filly would be a bit more careful the rest of the day, all things considered.

“Sorry, AB,” Scootaloo said, “but we kinda have a problem.”

The pegasus leaned back on her steering rod, and pointed down the path. The way they had taken to the farm dozens of times had a new addition to it: a fallen tree that now blocked their path.

“When the hay did that get there?” Apple Bloom demanded of nopony in particular. She didn't remember seeing it today, and she couldn’t have missed it: it was thicker than she and her fellow crusaders were tall. Ignoring the fact it was broken at its base, it seemed quite healthy, too. She couldn't imagine how or why it would've fallen over so recently.

Scootaloo gave an exasperated sigh. “Well, get out everypony. Guess we gotta move everything over it.”

“Hold on,” Sweetie Belle said. “We can't just leave this!”

Scootaloo rested her forelegs and head on top of the steering rod. “Why not?”

“We use this path everyday!” she protested. “If we just leave it here, we're going to have to climb over it all the time! It'll be such a pain!”

“So what, we move it?”

“Well why not?” Sweetie Belle pouted, crossing her forelegs.

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “How about the fact it's, like, a hundred times our size! And where would we move it to, anyway?”

“I hate to say it, but Scoot's right,” Apple Bloom said, examining the sides of the path. “We've got trees going up and down both directions. Even if we could lift it, we wouldn't be able to fit it anywhere!”

Sweetie Belle rubbed her chin, not willing to give up just yet. “What if we chop it up?”

“That'll just take even longer! And what do we even chop it with?” Scootaloo groaned impatiently. “Look, let's just tell AB's family and her friends at the farm. They'd have no problem getting rid of it. Twilight could probably… I don't know, change it into a bunch of pine cones or something.”

“She has a point, Sweetie. It'd probably be a lot faster if we had their help, anyway.” She turned to look at their passenger. “Sorry, Mort, but could you get out for...”

It took a moment to register that her cloaked companion wasn't there anymore. She and Sweetie Belle shared a perplexed look.

“Oh, he's over there,” Scootaloo said, pointing behind her. “I saw him get out while we were talking.”

Apple Bloom looked beyond her friend, and found Mort standing in front of the fallen tree. He was pacing up and down the length of it, his horn glowing faintly. He was talking under his breath, but she couldn't hear what he was saying.

“What'cha doin', Mort?” she asked.

“Checking for bugs,” he replied distractedly.

“Bugs?” Sweetie Belle scrunched her nose in disgust. “Why?”

Instead of answering, he said, “Could you girls back up a few feet?”

“What for?” Scootaloo asked.

“Safety precaution.”

The three of them looked at each other in confusion. Reluctantly, Scootaloo flapped her wings and drove them in the opposite direction.

“Farther, farther, farther... okay, that's good,” he said, never taking his eyes off the tree.

Scootaloo did a U-turn, then stopped. They were now about ten yards away from the cloaked pony now. Scootaloo rested her chin on her steering rod, looking annoyed.

“Is this going to take long, Mort?” Apple Bloom called out. “We need to hurry!”

“Don't worry, this shouldn't take any time at all.” Mort took a few steps back, and lifted his head. Apple Bloom watched as his horn began to glow brighter, casting a green glow on the bark in front of him.

All three of them gasped when something formed in the air above him, humming softly. It was incredibly thin, and almost hurt to look at. Leaning over to one side, she could barely make out its shape. It almost looked like the scythe used to cut crops on the farm.

The magical blade, tethered to Mort's horn with a string of magic, floated over to one side of the tree, and like a knife to a carrot, started to chop it up. She didn't hear any cutting noises as Mort went about his business, seemingly meeting zero resistance with every slice. She wasn't even convinced that he was cutting the tree until she saw the logs rolling slightly one way or another.

As soon as it had reached the other end, the blade disappeared. His horn glowed again, and the logs were gathered up, then neatly stacked on one side of the road, from largest to smallest. He spent more time getting the logs just right than he did making them in the first place.

Nodding in satisfaction, he waved towards them. After a moments hesitation, Scootaloo drove the three of them forward, and stopped to let him back on.

“There we go,” Mort said satisfactorily, stepping into the back. “If your family ever needs firewood, Apple Bloom, now you know where to look!”

“Um, thanks,” she said, her thoughts still on the display she'd seen. “Mort, what was that just now?”

“Oh, uh, it was nothing special,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Just a bit of magic, that’s all.”

“Hold on,” Scootaloo said, making a “time out” motion with her forelegs, “you're telling me unicorns can actually magic up swords and stuff?”

“Uh, sure,” he said, his eyes darting left and right. “They do it all the time...”

Sweetie Belle looked doubtful. “I’ve never seen Rarity do it. She’s always using scissors.”

“An’ Ah’ve never seen Twilight or any other unicorn do it, either,” Apple Bloom added. “They’re always using regular knives an’ stuff.”

Scootaloo looked suspiciously at the cloaked pony. “Can other unicorns really do that?”

Mort became deathly quiet. The silence slowly grew, going from short, to long, and eventually reaching “awkward” status. To Apple Bloom, it felt like the times when she had told her sister a little too much about her CMC activities, particularly the ones involving rock climbing or bungee-jumping.

They were now at the part where Apple Bloom (played by Mort) would sit in silence, hoping there would be no more questions, only for her sister (played by Scootaloo) to ask the one question that Apple Bloom had no acceptable answer to.

Apple Bloom involuntarily braced herself, feeling that she was on the cusp of learning some sort of dark secret. Mort did seem the type, what with the black cloak and everything. It could be something big. Something that could change the way they looked at him forever.

“Mort,” Scootaloo said, in a hushed tone, “you’re not actually... a ninja, are you?”

All three of them looked at her in bewilderment. Apple Bloom was dumbstruck. Something was supposed to happen here, but now the moment was gone, and Apple Bloom felt empty. It was just like that school play where the heroic colts and fillies were ready to seize Celestia’s Grail from the dragon’s castle... only for their parents to march them off the stage before the end. One does not take one’s parent’s expensive drapes and turns them into costumes.

Mort facehooved, slowly shaking his head, and almost looking pained. “You sound like Rainbow Dash,” he groaned.

“I sound like Rainbow Dash?!” The little pegasus jumped up in excitement, her eyes practically sparkling. Her helmet lifted off her head and came back down, obscuring one of her eyes. “That’s so awesome! Do you think she’ll notice?”

Mort stared, at a loss for words. It was the kind of reaction a lot of ponies had when Scootaloo talked about Rainbow Dash, and they couldn’t formulate a response that sounded right. So instead of actually answering her, Mort asked, “Shouldn’t we get going?”

“Hey, he’s right!” Sweetie Belle leaned forward, pointing down the now clear road. “We need to get there before everything gets cold!”

“Fine, fine...” Scootaloo straightened her helmet and spun herself around on the scooter, facing forward. “Hang on, everypony! I can get us there before they even take the pies out!”

They braced themselves as Scootaloo rushed off, dust kicking up around them. The pegasus was going even faster than before, trying to make up for lost time.

Apple Bloom briefly looked back at Mort. The pale pony met her eyes, smiling at her nervously. Or at least she thought it was nervous.

A thought struck her. Mort had been smiling an awful lot since they met him. In fact, she couldn’t recall him doing anything else. Whether he was relieved, happy, scared, sad, or nervous, that smile of his was always present. Unchanging. It was so odd...

But that thought vanished just as quickly as it came. Not so much stolen as it was hidden, akin to hiding a tree in a forest. It was still there, but virtually unnoticeable.

Apple Bloom didn’t notice this happening. For the most part, she merely felt as if she had forgotten something.

And soon, she forgot even that.

When Twilight Sparkle’s friends had been forced out of the library the previous night, the five of them knew that she was teetering on the edge of another manic episode, where common sense was all but forgotten in favor of being “ready”. When it came to preparing for anything, one couldn’t find a better organizer than Twilight... so long as it wasn’t at the last, possible moment.

Most ponies in that situation would try to compromise in some areas, and try to focus on the more important aspects. “Compromise” did not exist for Twilight when it came to preparing. She went all-in, and for Twilight that only meant stress, stress, and more stress.

Applejack did not want to see that happening again. The moment they were out the door, she knew they had to pitch in and avoid another “Mr. Smarty Pants” incident. She was the one to propose they all do something for her, and had helped prepare them for today.

But no battle plan survives contact with the enemy, and evidently, no welcoming committee can prepare for Mort. Applejack was quite used to things not going as planned, but not even she had expected things to spiral so out of control as they had. Bad luck just seemed to follow Mort wherever he went.

All they could do now was hope that their misfortunes had peaked, and that from here on out, it’d be smooth sailing. Finding Mort again would be a great start, but to do that, they’d need to get some food in them first. Applejack couldn’t help but feel a little guilty: she’d told Granny Smith and Big McIntosh all about today, and they were more than happy to help by setting up a huge lunch. Now it looked like they wouldn’t be able to stick around long enough to fully enjoy it.

By Applejack’s reckoning, Granny was probably just about done with getting the food cooked, at least. When she sniffed the air, she caught the warm scent of roasted apple and baked crust. It was nearly enough to make her drool like Winona. “Mmm! I can smell Granny's pies already!”

Rarity sniffed the air as well, giggling in delight. “Oh, that smells simply delightful! Don't you think so, dear?”

She had directed the question at Twilight, who was in step beside her. She had her head bowed down, paying no attention at all to anything other than where her hooves were.

“Sugarcube?”

Twilight suddenly lifted her head. “Huh? Oh! Uh, yeah, it smells good, Applejack,” she said distractedly.

Applejack frowned, concerned but not surprised. Five of them were on the road, and only a few minutes from the farm. Rainbow Dash flew above them, occasionally urging them all to hurry up. Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy were in the middle of a conversation, from which Applejack could only hear bits and pieces. It sounded like Pinkie wanted Fluttershy to help her with improving Gummy's manners.

Twilight, however, hadn't said a word since they took off. Applejack sometimes heard her talking under her breath, but she couldn't catch what she was saying. Knowing her friend, and what had been happening recently, Applejack could only assume she was thinking of what to write to Princess Luna if things turned out for the worst. It hadn't helped that, contrary to what Applejack hoped, they hadn't seen hoof or horn of Mort at all on the way to the farm.

She stepped closer to Twilight, giving her a little nudge. “You feelin’ alright, girl?”

Twilight opened her mouth to answer, hesitated, then shook her head. “No, I’m really not, I guess. What if we can’t find him, Applejack? What am I going to tell the princess? We might even need a search party!”

“Now don’t get yourself all twisted in knots, sugar,” she replied with a soothing voice. “Ah know things ain’t lookin’ up right now, but I’m sure it’ll all work itself out. We’ll get a quick bite and start searchin’ for him again, lickety split.”

Twilight smiled weakly at her. “You’re right, I’ll try to keep my chin up.” She slowed to a stop, bringing everypony else to a halt. Applejack watched as Twilight raised her forehoof to her chest, taking a deep breath, and then exhaling, while slowly swinging her hoof forward in time with it.

“What was that just now, dear?” Rarity asked, as they started to walk again.

“Breathing exercise,” Twilight explained. “After the wedding, I kept thinking that if I had kept my head when confronting Chrysalis the first time, I wouldn’t have looked so...”

“Crazy?” Twilight flinched, and Applejack immediately glared at Rainbow Dash, who bit her lip. “I-I mean, uh, unhinged?” Realizing immediately this was the wrong thing to say, she facehooved so hard she might as well have punched herself.

“Smooth,” Spike drawled sarcastically.

Twilight sighed. “No, she’s right. I let my emotions get the better of me. If I had reined them in, I might have been able to step back and realize how I would’ve looked doing all that. Maybe I could’ve found some other way of exposing Chrysalis for what she was that was more convincing.”

“And what you did helps you?” Fluttershy asked.

“Yeah, Princess Cadance showed it to me after the wedding. She says that whenever she’s feeling overwhelmed with something, it helped calm her down so she could handle it better. Honestly, though,” she said, her tone hardening, “I’m just getting sick of turning into a nervous wreck every time things don’t work out. I stayed up almost all last night trying to memorize all the different cultures in Equestria, because I was so worried that this was a special test. And look where that got me!

“So, starting right now, I’m going to do everything I can to be Calm, Composed Twilight, and not Crazy, Capricious Twilight,” she said, spinning her eyes as she finished. “How’s that sound?”

Applejack grinned, glad to see Twilight getting back into the saddle, as it were. “Sounds good to me, sugarcube.”

“Yes, it’s very important to keep a cool head,” Rarity said, and added with embarrassment, “though we do sometimes have to remind ourselves of that.”

“I like it too!” Pinkie Pie chirped, bouncing at the same time. “Oh, but do you think I could be ‘Candy and Cake’ Pinkie Pie? Or maybe it should be ‘Cooking and Confectionery’ Pinkie Pie? What do you think?”

Twilight stifled a giggle. “They both sound great on you, Pinkie Pie. By the way, are you feeling better now?”

“Absolutely not!” she said. “Me and Fluttershy are still trying to figure out how we can teach Gummy better manners! No friend of mine is turning into a sourpuss!”

Twilight looked at Applejack, who could only shrug in response. Applejack had seen pet rocks that were more emotive than Gummy. “No, I mean is your... uh, injury, feeling better?”

Pinkie gave her a blank stare, before her eyes widened in recognition. “Oooh, you’re talking about my butt!” she exclaimed cheerfully. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“I can’t imagine why,” Rarity muttered under her breath.

“Sure, it’s all better!” She wiggled her rear, nearly knocking Fluttershy over. “It’s going to take more than a pin to pop these balloons!”

“I still can’t believe that happened!” Rainbow Dash turned herself upside down and flew lower, until she was directly over Twilight’s head. “Is it really true that the whole place got wrecked?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe!” Spike exclaimed, throwing his arms out. “The tables got flipped, the punch was spilled everywhere, Gummy got stuck on somepony’s face...”

Applejack blinked in surprise, looking between Twilight and Spike. “Wait, all that actually happened?”

“Yep!” Pinkie Pie said, hopping over. “Twilight caught me with the banner too! That part was actually kinda fun!”

“You weren’t able to catch that cake, though,” Rarity said sympathetically. “Oh, it’s just the worst feeling, isn’t it? I still shudder just thinking about how it happened to me! You feel all sticky, the icing gets in the grooves of your horn, and you smell like a bakery. And what it does to your mane!” She held a hoof to her head, looking half-ready to faint. “Oh, it was days before I felt clean again!”

Pinkie Pie licked her lips, obviously finding no issue with the experience described.

“Well, I thought Mort had it under control,” Twilight said. “He caught the cake with everything else, after all.”

Rainbow Dash scrunched her nose, confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just like she said! All the food, gifts, furniture, and even all the ponies... he was levitating everything!” Spike suddenly scratched at his skin, shuddering. “It felt really creepy, too! My scales crawl just thinking about it.”

“Uh, doesn’t Twilight carry you like that all the time?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“Well, sure, but her magic at least feels normal,” Spike said. “Most of the time it’s just a little tingly, but when Mort did it... ugh, I felt clammy all over!”

“It did feel a little off,” Twilight admitted quietly, “but everypony’s magic is a little different, and Mort’s quite... well, different, from what I can tell.”

“Well, the important thing is he tried,” Rarity lectured. “And aside from that little accident at the end, he seemed to have done a remarkable job putting everything else away. If nopony had told me, I wouldn’t have guessed that the entire room was a wreck mere moments before.”

“It practically looked the same way it did before we even got there,” Twilight added. “Honestly, I thought it was actually pretty impressive. Besides lifting so much weight, he was able to move everything around and do a lot of multitasking, even when he wasn’t looking. There aren’t a lot of unicorns who can do that.”

“But he still dropped the cake,” Rainbow Dash pointed pit.

She sighed. “Yeah, somehow he still managed to do that. It’s just so bizarre to see somepony so clumsy pull off something so complex.” Twilight suddenly blushed. “Uh, please don’t let him know I think he’s clumsy, though.”

“Sure,” Rainbow Dash said, “but seriously, it wouldn’t be nearly that bad if he just didn’t wear that cloak all the time.”

“Speakin’ of which,” Applejack said, “do we know anythin’ new about the feller? Like, where he’s from an’ all that?” She’d been with Rarity when everything else had happened, and wanted to make sure she wouldn’t say or do anything that could offend him. That and she was still pretty curious herself.

“He’s got lots of stories!” Pinkie Pie chimed in. “Really fun ones!”

“Not all of them,” Spike moaned, hugging himself.

Applejack shot a questioning look at Twilight. “Well,” the unicorn said, “it turns out Mort can’t have children due to an incident with a bull—”

“An’ that’s all Ah I want to hear ‘bout that,” Applejack said, the disturbing imagery already forming in her mind, causing her hair to stand on end. Rarity and Fluttershy looked ill as well, and even Rainbow Dash looked uncomfortable. She mentally noted to tread cautiously on any talk about future foals. “Anythin’ else?”

“Not really,” Twilight said, sounding disappointed. “He’s been to a lot of places, but that goes with the territory. He hasn’t said anything about his family or personal life. Although...”

Twilight sounded as if something was bothering her. “Somethin’ else, sugar?”

“Well, maybe I’m looking too much into it,” she said hesitantly, “but I keeping thinking about this story he told...”

“Save it for later, Twilight,” Rainbow Dash said, suddenly hooking a foreleg around the unicorn’s shoulders. “Because we’re here!”

“Oh boy oh boy oh boy!” Pinkie Pie suddenly dashed ahead, nearly knocking Applejack and Twilight down. Rainbow Dash zoomed overhead, and both Fluttershy and Rarity hurried after them. Twilight opened her mouth to say something, but then seemed to think otherwise and just rolled her eyes.

After adjusting her Stetson, Applejack grinned brightly at the sight of the Apple Farm archway, wrapped in vines and decorated with fake, red apples. The smell of baked food was stronger than ever, and she licked her lips in anticipation.

A moment later, Applejack could hear the telltale sounds of a little wagon speeding towards them, intermixed with giggling foals. It sounded like her sister and friends were coming back from yet another “crusade”. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to scrape off any tree sap this time.

When she turned to greet them, she immediately noticed the taller, cloaked figure sitting behind them. Her initial confusion was soon wiped away by the delight she felt when she recognized the third passenger.

Twilight, from the sounds of it, hadn’t paid them any mind yet. “Okay, we’ll need to rest, but not too long in case Mort’s getting farther away. Maybe fifteen, twenty minutes tops. We’ll eat and drink what we can, and maybe pack a little bit to bring with us for snacks. As for where to go after that...”

“Hey, Twilight!” Apple Bloom shouted, waving at the pair of them. “Look who we found!”

“That’s very nice, Apple Bloom,” Twilight said without looking. Applejack suppressed a snicker as her friend continued: “I’ll probably need to take a look at a Ponyville map, then I can calculate the most efficient way we can search the town. That way we won’t miss a thing.”

By now, Spike had seen who was with the CMC, and poked Twilight’s shoulder. “Uh, maybe you should see what the girls found?”

“It can wait, Spike. I got a good train of thought going, and I have to stay focused. Now, Rarity will probably be better suited for the town—”

By now the wagon had caught up to them. Applejack courtised, aiming it at the cloaked stallion that was riding with the young fillies.

“Howdy, partner.”

“Hi, Applejack. Is Rarity okay?”

“Why, yes, she’s doin’ quite alright,” Applejack said appreciatively. “Thanks fer askin’, Mort.” Now it was only a matter of waiting to see if Twilight would notice.

“—Rainbow Dash should have no trouble spotting him out in the open, so we could probably focus on the forests and...”

Twilight trailed off. After a few moments of just standing there, she spun to her left. Applejack grinned and stepped off to the side, presenting the beaming faces of Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle.

Sitting behind Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle in their wagon was Mort, who waved weakly at her.

“Mort!” Twilight was by his side in an instant, forcing Spike to grab ahold of her mane just to keep himself from falling off. Applejack had to take another step back to avoid getting knocked over. “Where in Equestria have you been?”

“He was at our clubhouse!” Sweetie Belle said, making room so that the cloaked pony could climb down. “We were helping him with his—”

“Tour of the town!” Apple Bloom quickly exclaimed, shooting an unusually hostile look at her friend. “Yep, we thought we’d show him the famous... uh, trees of Ponyville!”

Scootaloo facehooved. “Yeah. Trees.”

It was quite an odd scene, even for the Crusaders, but Applejack couldn’t pay it much mind. By then the rest of their friends had rushed out, skidding to a halt around them.

“Mort!” Rarity said. “Gracious, dear! You gave us quite a fright!”

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Fluttershy whispered.

“No kidding,” Rainbow Dash added, landing next to Applejack in a huff. “You had me darting all over the sky, you know! I don’t even fly this much on cloud duty!”

Mort rubbed his foreleg, looking away shyly. Apple Bloom nudged him from behind, and motioned at Applejack and her friends.

Mort took a deep breath. “Alright, uh, I have a few things I really need to say.”

“We’re all ears, Morty!” Pinkie Pie said, directing one ear towards him. The others nodded along.

“Okay. Well, first of all...” Mort trudged over to Rarity first, bowing his head. “Rarity, I’m really sorry about what happened to the suit, and also knocking that screen on top of you. I know you must’ve worked really hard on it, and I’d do anything to make it up to you.” His head bent lower until his horn was just a couple inches from touching the ground.

A light flush grew on Rarity’s cheeks. She reached down, raising his chin with her hoof. Applejack glanced over at Spike, and saw he was quietly sulking. It wasn’t nearly as bad as when Mort first got here, though.

“Oh, Mort,” the fashionista said, “everything’s alright. It really was just an accident, and I shouldn’t have intruded as I did. How about we just bygones be bygones and forget about it?”

“Are you sure?” Mort asked. “Isn’t there anything I can do? Maybe I could get some money and pay for it. I don’t have any on me right now, but...”

“Tut, tut! I’m not going to charge you a single bit, darling. However,” she said, putting a comforting hoof on his shoulder, “if it really means that much to you, perhaps you could just swing by later today and offer me a little input on some other designs. They’re the sort where a stallion’s view could really help.”

“Oh, sure! I’d love to!” Mort nodded eagerly, and moving with a bit more energy, stepped over to Fluttershy. “Fluttershy, I’m sorry I yelled at you. I know you were doing your best to keep things under control.”

“It’s okay. I’m so sorry my animals acted the way they did,” she said, bowing her own head. “They’re really not like that at all, honest! I just don’t know what got into them...”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I know you didn’t mean for it to happen. They didn’t really hurt me all that much, anyway. It was just a little surprising, more than anything.”

“Um, a-are you going to report it?” she asked, barely able to conceal the fear in her voice. “I-I wouldn’t blame you if you did, of course...”

“Nah,” he said, waving his hoof dismissively. “Everything’s okay. I’m sure they’re really nice. I’m just not an animal… pony.”

A look of relief washed over Fluttershy’s face, and she suddenly pulled Mort into a hug. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise something like that will never happen again! To you or anypony!”

Mort giggled, patting Fluttershy on the back of her neck. She soon released him, giving Mort a chance to talk to the next two ponies in line. “Twilight, Spike, I’m so sorry I dropped a cake on you.”

Twilight smiled comfortingly at him. “It’s okay. I appreciate that you made an effort to stop it in the first place. Besides, of all the things dropped on me, the cake’s easily the least awful of them.” She glanced up at Spike, who was still pouting from earlier. She gently poked him with a hoof, causing him to sigh.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s not that big a deal,” Spike said, shrugging. “And I guess it tasted pretty good, too.”

“And Pinkie Pie,” Mort said, looking at the earth pony, “I’m really, really, really sorry that I...” He gulped, shuddering a little. “Hurt you.”

“Aw, it wasn’t that bad, Morty! See?” She reached back, peeling the bandage off her flank. Mort had to lean back as Pinkie shook her rear at him, causing the others to facehoof—or in Spike’s case, facepalm—in embarrassment. “Already better!”

“Y-yes, I can see that,” Mort said, averting his eyes.

“It’ll make for a really funny story next time, too! Ooh! Maybe I could dress up as a pinned pony on Nightmare Night! There’d be a poster board all around me, and I could pass out tails with suctions cups! Pin the tail and trick-or-treating! Two great things all at once!”

Finally, Mort walked over to Applejack and Rainbow Dash. The pair shared a confused look as he stopped in front of them, his head still bowed in penitence.

“Rainbow Dash, Applejack, I’m sorry I… uh...” He trailed off, scratched the top of his head, then seemed to count off on his hooves. He did this a couple times before asking, “Um… did I actually do anything to you two?”

“Nope,” Applejack answered, shaking her head.

Rainbow Dash shrugged. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Oh. Well, that’s good,” he said curtly. “So… can I give a preemptive apology in case anything should go wrong later?”

Rainbow Dash snorted. “Yeah, sure. We’ll use it in case of an emergency!”

Mort seemed happy to hear this, if his smile was anything to go by. Applejack looked behind him, seeing a chain of relieved looks passing between her friends. Off to the side, she saw Apple Bloom and her friends giving each other a high-hoof. Applejack was more than eager to put all of this morning’s drama behind them.

“Well, now that we got all of that out of the way...” Applejack trotted up to the front of her home, and held the door open. “Let’s say we finally get some grub in our bellies?”

Author's Note

Special thanks to Pilate, Chuckle5 and Admiral Biscuit!

All-Equestrian Apple Pie and Hoofball

All-Equestrian Apple Pie and Hoofball

Even with a cake-stuffed Spike still on her back, Twilight Sparkle felt much lighter when she walked into the home of the Apple family. Finding Mort had taken a weight off her shoulders, and the fact that everypony had made peace with each other was an additional relief.

She put the events of the past few hours behind her, and focused on what lay ahead. They still had the afternoon and part of the evening to fill out. Pinkie’s party was supposed to happen much later, but now all they had left was to watch Rainbow Dash do some aerial stunts. Fun, yes, but it couldn’t take up the better part of a day, no matter what Rainbow Dash claimed. They needed to pad the time out some other way.

She could plan later, though. Any desire for it was driven out by the smell of Granny Smith’s cooking, which had permeated throughout the entire home.

“No drooling, Spike,” she told her passenger.

“I-I don’t know what you mean,” he said, right before she heard a licking sound.

Rarity and Fluttershy walked over to the couch, sitting down in it with content smiles. Pinkie Pie bounced past her toward the kitchen, giggling happily. Rainbow Dash followed close behind, but stopped for a moment beside Twilight. “Uh, me and Pinkie are going to check out the kitchen. You know, in case Granny needs help.”

“Of course,” she said, with a good-natured roll of her eyes. Rainbow Dash blew a playful raspberry and trotted off towards the kitchen. A moment later Twilight heard a joyful elation from the elderly mare.

Mort walked up behind her, with Applejack by his side. His eyes were scanning the room as Applejack spoke to him. “Welp, this here’s our humble abode,” she said, gesturing all around them. “Been here goin’ on three generations, and gonna be here fer lots more, if we can help it!”

“It’s… very nice,” Mort said. The distant tone he used confused Twilight.

Applejack, however, didn’t seem to notice. “Why thank you kindly, Mort! Let me go introduce you to the rest of the family. Now, you already got acquainted with Apple Bloom—Ah hope she wasn’t a hoof-full or nothin’.”

Mort chuckled. “Nah, she was fine. You’ve done a really good job, all things considered.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. “What’s that mean?”

He hesitated. “Uh… well, you work on a farm, and a farm life is pretty busy and everything...”

“Well shucks, ‘tain’t that bad,” she said modestly. “There’s always time to raise a filly right. ‘Specially if’n Ah got other family to help. Like this feller right ‘ere!”

She suddenly pointed towards the stairs, just as Big Mac made an appearance. The tall, red stallion paused a moment to smile amicably at all of them, chewing on the straw piece in his mouth. “Howdy, y’all.”

“Howdy,” Twilight giggled. Big Mac walked over, taking a spot next to Applejack. His younger sister had to reach up to drape a foreleg over his shoulders.

“Big brother,” she said, and gestured at Mort. “This ‘ere’s a new pony in town who’s lookin’ to make some friends. His name’s—”

“Mort.”

“Yep, that’s...” Applejack stopped suddenly, and blinked. “Huh?”

“Nice to see you again, Big Mac,” Mort said, shaking the larger stallion’s hooves.

“Likewise,” he said. “Glad to see you made it after all. Any problems gettin’ here?”

“Well, it was a little rough going at first,” he admitted. “But I think the worst is behind us.”

“Now hold on a moment,” Applejack said, standing between the two. “You two met already?”

“Saw him on the way back this mornin’,” Big Mac said. “Said he was meetin’ some ponies, but Ah didn’t realize it was you gals.”

“He gave me an apple,” he said, sounding surprisingly appreciative about it. “I kinda figured you were related when I saw you and your cutie mark,” he said, pointing at the trio of apples on Applejack. “I never really got a chance to bring it up, though.”

“Well, now ain’t that a hoot!” she said, swinging her foreleg in front of her. “Guess that means the only one left is Granny Smith! Hey Granny, come on out ‘ere a minute!”

Twilight winced at the sudden volume, and flattened her ears until the ringing stopped. Applejack giggled. “Sorry, Twi’. Y’know how Granny is without her ear trumpet.”

“Eh? Did somepony say somethin’?” The quakey voice came from an elderly, green mare who slowly walked out from the kitchen, her joints creaking with each step. A cooking apron hung from her neck, sporting the mandatory “Kiss the Chef”. “I could’ve sworn...”

She trailed as her eyes landed on Mort. She blinked a couple times, then her eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here?”

Confused looks were shared across the room. Mort gulped nervously. “W-what do you mean?”

“I told you before!” she said heatedly, walking up to him. “I ain’t interested, I don’ want yer pamphlets, and you are not puttin’ any fancy, schmancy doohickey on my head!” She poked Mort in the chest several times for emphasis.

“Uh, Granny Smith?” Twilight said, putting on a disarming grin. “This is Mort. He’s… not selling pamphlets.”

“Eh? Really?” She looked at her grandchildren, who nodded in agreement. Suddenly, her mood changed completely, as her scowl was replaced with a big, wrinkled grin. “Well, why didn’t you say so? Welcome to Sweet Apple Acres, young’un’!”

She reached out and hugged Mort, an act that was instantly followed by a small pop in her back. “Oooh, stretched myself a little too far that time!” she exclaimed, letting go of him to rub the spot. “Well, I’m glad y’all showed up when you did! For a minute I thought we were gonna be eatin’ all by our lonesomes!”

“We had a few complications on the way here,” Rarity said from the couch, “but I think we’ve got most of the wrinkles ironed out now.”

A hush descended upon the ponies. Applejack and Big Mac visibly winced. Granny Smith hobbled over to Rarity, giving her a stink eye.

Rarity gulp. “N-not that there’s anything wrong with wrinkles! Why, on some of my best dresses I think they even add… character?” She smiled a little too widely, a bead of sweat rolling down her forehead.

Granny Smith kept her eye on Rarity a moment longer, then made a curt nod of approval. “Yer dang right they add character!” She patted Rarity on the shoulder, grinning at her. “You’ll appreciate them even more once you get them yerself.”

Granny Smith turned away, just in time to miss the look of abject horror on Rarity’s face. “Now that everypony’s here, how ‘bout we get everythin’ ready for lunch? I’d be mighty appreciative if y’all could help us set the table out back.”

Twilight nodded. “Absolutely, Granny. You just relax and let us take care of everything.”

“Let’s go, everypony!” Applejack lead the way into the kitchen, with everypony close behind. Twilight could hear Rarity speaking quietly to herself about anti-aging creams and a trip to Zecora’s. Twilight wondered if Granny had meant to do that.

Twilight stepped into the kitchen, and almost felt like she had run into a wall—a wall made of the scent of baked cinnamon and apple, reminding her just how hungry she really was. Rainbow Dash hovered in the air, getting ready to eat an apple pastry that had been laid out, and Pinkie Pie was ogling the stove, completely oblivious to their arrival.

Granny Smith cleared her throat. “I take it this is yer idea of helpin’ in the kitchen?”

Rainbow Dash stopped in mid-bite, her eyes widening when she saw them. “Oh, uh, hey Granny! I was just making sure the pastries were... warm.” Rainbow Dash half heartedly juggled the pastry for a moment, then put it back on the plate. “So, uh, yeah. Definitely warm.” She crossed her forelegs behind her, trying to look innocent.

Granny nodded, and walked over to Pinkie, who hadn’t seem to notice them at all. “Pinkie, are you in there?”

“Uh huh.”

“Are you goin’ to be gettin’ up?”

“Uh huh.”

“Soon, I mean.”

“Uh huh.”

Granny Smith waited a few moments, tapping her hoof impatiently. Then she suddenly cried out, and made a motion to hide behind Pinkie Pie, pointing her hoof dramatically towards an empty doorway. “Eek! It’s a burglar, Pinkie! He’s gonna rob you!”

From out of nowhere, Pinkie Pie produced a bag of bits, and held it out. “Here you go. Buy yourself something nice.”

Granny Smith gave her a flat look, then grabbed both of Pinkie’s cheeks, pivoting her head until they were staring at each other eye-to-eye.

This seemed to shake Pinkie from her stupor, and she grinned at Granny. “Hi, Granny Smith!”

“Hello, Pinkie,” she said sweetly. “Can you help us set the table outside?”

“Sure! Oh, hey, I wonder how my bits got here.” Pinkie scooped her bag up and deposited it... somewhere. Twilight didn’t question it. Not anymore.

“If nothin’ else, granddaughter, yer friends know how to keep life interestin’!” Granny walked over to a cabinet, opening it up to reveal stacks of plates and cups. “Applejack, you go get the table cloth laid out, and Big Mac can get the plates. Fluttershy can pour the drinks, and Rarity, would you mind doin’ the silverware?”

When Rarity heard her name, she stopped tugging at her cheeks and put her hoof mirror away. “Uh, certainly, Granny! It should only take a moment.”

“Good!” As the ponies went about their responsibilities, Granny Smith opened the oven door, using a mitt to pull out the rack. Atop of it was a large and very delicious-looking apple pie, steam rising from the upper crust.

Spike breathed in deep, humming his approval. “C-can I put the pie out?” Spike said, rubbing his hands together. “Please?”

“Actually, Spike, I was thinkin’ our guest here could do it.” She stood back, motioning for Mort to come closer. “Yer a unicorn, right? Why don’ you...”

Granny Smith trailed off, staring at Mort. She blinked slowly, her mouth half-open. Mort stood rigidly, like he was afraid of making any sudden movements.

Concerned, Twilight walked over to Granny, nudging her gently. “Granny?”

The matriarch shook her head, as if coming to her senses. “Huh? O-oh, yes, sorry.” Granny reached over to the counter, putting on some oven mitts. She picked the pie up and held it towards Mort. He hesitated for a moment, then his horn glowed, wrapping the pie in his magic.

As Mort lifted the pie towards him, Granny took the mitts off, keeping her eyes on Mort. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but do I know you?”

Mort stared at her uncertainly. “I’m Mort?”

“Well I know that,” Granny said with a chuckle, “but what I mean is, have I seen you somewhere before?”

Twilight stood by awkwardly. Without her knowing, something had changed in the air, but she couldn’t place what it was. “He’s a collector, Granny. He goes around Equestria and gets rare artifacts for others.”

“Really? I could’ve sworn that McIntosh said he was a courier or somethin’.”

“Collector, courier, same difference,” Mort said hurriedly. “Either way, I’m transporting something, so I do have to get around.”

“Hmm, I see,” Granny mused, scratching her chin. “Did you happen to know an older stallion? Light red coat, had a cider bottle for a cutie mark?”

Twilight saw the pie lose altitude for a moment, before Mort had corrected it. “M-maybe, I tend to see lots of ponies,” he said, a nervous twinge in his voice.

Twilight was going to ask who Granny was talking about, when she heard a series of short barks, coming from outside.

“Why, that must be Winona,” Granny said happily, looking towards the open door. “I was wonderin’ what that dog had been up to!”

Mort’s voice was barely a whisper. “Dog?”

“Uh, Granny,” Twilight said, smiling nervously at her, “Mort has been having really bad luck with animals today. Maybe we should put her somewhere?”

“Nonsense! Winona wouldn’t hurt a fly!” Granny clopped her hooves together and whistled. “Come here, girl! Say hello to our guest!”

Twilight heard the telltale padding of feet, and before she could do anything else, Winona ran in, yapping excitedly. She wore a goofy grin, her ears perked up and her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth.

That changed when she caught sight of Mort. The dog skidded to a stop, scrabbling the floor with her nails. In an instant, Winona’s entire demeanor changed: her ears splayed back, and she pulled back her lips, revealing a mouth full of small but sharp incisors. An angry snarl escaped her throat.

He took a couple steps back. “G-granny? I-I think she’s—”

Whatever he said next was drowned out by Winona’s wild barking. Her fur was standing up on end as she slowly approached Mort, not stopping once to take a breath. Twilight and Spike tried to plug their ears, the noise vibrating the insides of their skulls.

Granny stared at her pet in shock, her mouth gaping open. “Winona?! Winona, what’s gotten into you?!”

Mort backed up, his attention going back and forth between the pie he was carrying, and the dog nipping at his hooves. His back hit the countertop behind him, and he tried to stand on his hind legs in an effort to put more distance between them. Winona was gradually getting closer, and Twiight realized that if she didn’t do something soon, they might have a repeat of what happened at the park.

But before she could even think of grabbing Winona, her barking was suddenly overshadowed by a loud and angry bellow.

“WINONA!”

The dog’s jaw clamped shut immediately, and her tail flew between her legs. Everyone in the kitchen turned to see Applejack standing in the doorway, glaring daggers at Winona.

“What in tarnation do you think yer doin’, girl?!” Applejack marched over, and Winona began to hug the floor, unable to take her eyes off her owner. “That ain’t no way to treat a guest of ours!”

Winona whimpered feebly, every bit of her wilder persona gone. Now she was just a puppy getting scolded for her wrongdoings. Mort slowly got back down on all four legs, and carefully walked around Winona until he was near Twilight. Winona made a move to get up, but quickly dropped back down at the sound of Applejack stomping her hoof.

“Are you okay?” Twilight asked, putting a hoof on his thin shoulder.

“O-oh yeah, I’m getting used to it,” he said, his eyes darting between her and Winona. “Um, but hey, at least I didn’t lose the pie! That’s something, right? Ha, ha... ha...” He tried a couple more laughs, but it was clear they were dead on arrival.

Applejack sighed, and looked apologetically at Mort, taking her Stetson off and holding it to her chest. “Mort, Ah can’t begin to tell you how sorry Ah am. Winona is never like that.”

“I don’t even know what happened!” Granny exclaimed, still looking stunned from what she’d just seen. “It’s like somethin’ flipped a switch in her head and made her all nasty!”

“I’m afraid it’s been happening all day,” Twilight said, glancing back at Winona. “All the animals we’ve run into seem to have it out for him. If they’re not running from him, they’re trying to attack him.”

“Gracious,” Granny said, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Well, it ain’t happenin’ again, that’s fer sure!” Applejack got low on the ground, looking straight into Winona’s face. “Girl, yer goin’ to apologize to this nice, young stallion, ya hear? Now sit up.”

“Applejack, I really don’t know if—”

“Don’ you worry none, Twi’, Ah know what I’m doin’. Go on, Winona, sit up!”

The dog whined, then slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position, her ears still laying flat against her head.

“Good. Now Mort, could you get over here for a minute?”

Mort slowly nodded his head, and stepped forward, keeping his eyes on Winona. Twilight chewed her lip, unsure what the right thing to do would be. She didn’t want to risk Mort getting bit again, but at the same time, it’d probably help him out a lot if they could find a way for him to approach animals without being greeted with teeth every time.

Mort stood by Applejack, the pie still floating above his head. “Like this?”

“That’s fine,” Applejack said, nodding. “Now, Ah want you to reach down and scratch her head.”

“But won’t she—”

“She ain’t gonna bite you,” Applejack assured him. “Ah promise. Apple family honor.”

Mort stared at her a moment longer, before turning his attention to Winona. He slowly lowered his hoof, approaching the top of her head. A low growl escaped through Winona’s lips, but it vanished with a stern look from Applejack.

Twilight gritted her teeth, already formulating a spell in case Winona was as much bite as she was bark.

After several, agonizing moments, Mort’s hoof finally rested on Winona’s head, causing the dog to flinch. He held it there, his eyes widening in shock.

“Go on,” Applejack said. “Scratch her a little.”

Mort traced circular motions with his hoof. Winona whined quietly, her body shaking. Twilight hadn’t noticed it before, but Winona really was terrified. She had chalked it up to Applejack’s scolding, but Winona looked like she desperately wanted to get away from Mort.

Mort finally pulled his hoof back, and stared at it in amazement. Winona kept her eyes on him, her expression blank.

“There, that wasn’t too bad, now was it?” Applejack hooked her foreleg around Mort, smiling brightly at Winona. “See, girl? Nothin’ to worry about!”

To Winona’s credit, she wasn’t barking anymore, but she was hardly eager to run up to Mort, either. If anything, by the way she bowed her head, she looked defeated.

This didn’t escape Applejack’s notice. “Aw, now cheer up, girl,” she said, rubbing her head affectionately. “How ‘bout Ah give ya a couple treats later fer bein’ such a good sport?”

Winona’s expression didn’t change, but her ears did perk up at the word “treats,” which seemed to be enough for Applejack. She called for the dog to follow, and trotted out the door. Winona followed, but stopped in the doorway to look at Mort again. She emitted a small whine, and followed her master out.

Granny sighed in relief. “Well, I hope that didn’t upset you too much, dear.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Mort said, shrugging. “I’ve seen worse, really.”

“You mean like what happened at the park?”

Mort stared quietly at Spike for a moment. “Yes. Yes, that’s exactly what I meant.”

Spike arched his brow. “O... kay?”

“Well, I’m still mighty sorry fer that,” Granny said, patting him on the shoulder. “How ‘bout we just head out and try to ferget about this?”

“Fine by me,” Mort said, shrugging.

Spike held the door open for granny, allowing the older mare out first, which earned him an appreciative nod.

Twilight was ready to follow when she noticed that Mort hadn’t moved yet. He was scanning the room, as if entranced by something. “Mort?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “Just... appreciating things, I suppose. It must be hard for them running such a big farm.”

“I know what you mean,” she said. She was well aware of Applejack’s normal routine on the farm, and how some days could see her getting up before sunrise and going back to bed long after sunset. “They do get help from us and some temporary hires, but it’s still a lot of work.”

“They’ve done really well for themselves,” Mort said, rubbing his hoof over a door frame. “Baldwin would be proud.”

“Who?”

“You know, he’s...” Mort trailed off, as if reconsidering. “Nevermind. Let’s just go outside. You’re practically starving right now.”

“I’m not starving,” she protested, but a moment later her stomach rumbled loudly. Mort looked away, holding a hoof up to stifle a giggle. Twilight tried to keep a straight face, but she couldn’t stop a giggle or two from popping up either.

Everypony else was already sitting down when they walked outside. Rainbow Dash was tapping the top of the table impatiently, not noticing the slightly annoyed look from Big Mac next to her. Sitting on the other side of Rainbow Dash was Pinkie Pie, who was entertaining the foals by breathing on a spoon, then sticking it to her nose. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle eagerly followed her example, but Scootaloo only rolled her eyes.

On the opposite side of the table, Applejack had sat down across from her brother, and was wrapping a napkin around her neck. Below her was Winona, who tensed upon seeing Mort, but didn’t make any movements towards him. Fluttershy and Rarity were sitting down from her, chatting about something until they noticed them. Granny pointed out the right end of the table to Mort, then hobbled over to the opposite end, near Applejack and Big Mac. That left Twilight a spot next to Rarity.

“Well, there you are!” Rarity said warmly as Twilight sat down. Spike had already jumped from her back, sitting between the two unicorns. “Is everything alright? I thought I heard Winona barking earlier.”

“Everythin’ is fine, Rarity. Just had to strong-hoof Winona a little bit into behaving.” Applejack leaned over and rubbed Winona’s head, coaxing out a couple tail wags and a lick. She gave Mort a brief look before turning her attention away. If it bothered Mort, it didn’t show. He put the pie down in the middle of the table, then took his seat. Twilight shot him an encouraging smile, and he smiled back.

Rainbow Dash rested her head between her hooves. “Well, at least he didn’t fall into a pond this time.”

“That’s funny,” Apple Bloom said, the spoon dropping off her nose. “Ah thought Winona liked everypony!”

“Me too, dear. Maybe his choice of wears was givin’ her the jitters.” Granny finally sat down at her seat, arching her back until she elicited an audible pop. “Speakin’ of which, ain’t you warm in that thing, sonny? Wouldn’t you be more comfortable with it off out here?”

“NO!”

Plates and cups shook. Everypony whipped their heads towards Apple Bloom, her hooves still on the table from where she had slammed them down.

She quickly sat back down, her yellow face turning pink. “I-I mean, uh... no, because...”

“Oh, that’s right!” Rarity said, tapping her head. “Granny, Mort’s skin is very delicate. He gets sunburned very easily.”

“Oooh,” she said understandingly. “Well, it is awful sunny today. You gonna be okay out here?”

Mort shrugged. “I’ll live.”

“Sunburned?” Sweetie Belle said, sounding confused. “But I thought he—ow!”

She bit her lip, reaching down towards her rear hoof.

Rarity looked at her with concern. “Is something the matter, dear?”

Twilight caught the glare directed at Scootaloo, who was looking away innocently. “It’s nothing, sis,” Sweetie Belle seethed. “I just stretched my leg too far.”

“Ah bet it’s from ridin’ that wagon so much,” Applejack said. “Y’all ain’t gonna grow up big an’ strong if ya got Scootaloo drivin’ you everywhere.”

“Yeah, yeah, good lesson, so can we please pass the food out now?!” Rainbow Dash’s stomached growled, and she hugged it with a desperate look. “Come on, I’m starving here!”

Applejack looked at her with an expression of chagrin, but went back to smiling when she turned her attention to Mort. “Alright, Mort. Since yer our guest and everythin’, how ‘bout we let you have a first go at the pie? Jus’ remember to leave enough fer the rest of us.”

She held the knife between her teeth, biting down on the handle with the blade facing away. When Mort’s magic wrapped it, she let go and let him hover it over the pie. He nodded appreciatively at her, and rotated the knife over the pie, counting to himself. “So, thirteen slices?”

“Oh, you don’ need to worry about me,” Granny said. “Y’all jus’ worry about yerselves. I’m happy enough with a couple tarts.”

Mort nodded, and was ready to lower the knife, when Apple Bloom suddenly spoke up.

“Hey Mort, why do ya need to use the knife?”

Rainbow Dash facehoved. “Maybe to, I don’t know, cut it? Kinda like how he should be right now?”

“But why doesn’t he use his magic to cut it?” Sweetie Belle asked.

Twilight chuckled, appreciating a chance to teach them something. “Well girls, usually it’s just easier and cleaner to use an actual knife. It can take a lot of effort and concentration to make a magical knife, especially one that’s actually sharp.”

“Yeah, but Mort’s is plenty sharp!” Apple Bloom exclaimed. “He chopped up a whole tree an’ everythin’!”

Twilight blinked in surprise. “When did this happen?”

“On the way here,” Scootaloo said. “Some tree fell down and was blocking our way.”

“It was huge!” Sweetie Belle said, her voice cracking as she swung her forelegs out for emphasis. “We woulda had to climb over it if he hadn’t cut it!”

Twilight’s mouth fell partly open in surprise, and she turned to look at Mort. He was avoiding her eyes by looking at the plate in front of him, the knife still hovering over the pie.

For magical blades, it took a significant amount of power and concentration to squeeze the atoms together to a point they could be considered “sharp,” and even more than that to keep them together when contact was made. It was much easier just to wield an actual blade, or even transmute one. Because of that, while it was considered an advance skill, at the same time it was deemed rather impractical as well.

Still, it'd be interesting to watch, if only to see how Mort did it. Some clever ponies channeled their magic in such a way that the blade acted like a saw of sorts, cutting away at the material as it descended. She wondered how Mort would've made his to cut through an entire tree... assuming the fillies weren't exaggerating, of course.

Applejack seemed to have read her mind as well. “Well, Ah’d like to see it,” Applejack said, resting her chin on her hooves. “Why don’t ya give it a shot, Mort?”

“Yes, I’ve heard it’s possible, but so few unicorns actually do it,” Rarity added, looking at him with interest. “Could you show us? Please?”

“Do something before it gets cold,” Rainbow Dash grumbled.

“Well, if you insist...” Mort put the knife down, then focused his attention on the pie. His horn began to glow, and magic started to gather in the air above him. Twilight watched intensely, wanting to see what Mort had created.

The air crackled, and the magical energy suddenly collapsed in on itself. Everyone—bar the fillies—gasped at the humming blade of magic. Twilight felt her skin crawl and her muscles seize up. Fluttershy squeaked, Spike’s claws dug into the table, and the foals were watching wide-eyed in amazement. Everypony else could only gawk. Winona whined and darted underneath the table.

Twilight watched Mort hover the blade—long and curved, like a scythe—over the pie, watching its shape change suddenly change, the blade flattening until it looked like an upside down trapezoid. It took her a moment to realize it was actually matching the shape of the pie pan.

The blade went down and came back up in quick succession, rotating clockwise after each cut. When Twilight had the chance to look at lengthwise, she would’ve lost sight of it completely if it weren’t for the glow it emitted. Paper wasn’t this thin.

After the sixth slice, the blade vanished, and with it Twilight felt her body relax. She looked at the pie, seeing it had been cut into twelve, perfect pieces, steam rising between the slices. Nearly everyone seemed to be taking a moment to catch their breath. Spike, in particular, had to pull his claws out of the table.

“Is it over?” Fluttershy asked from behind her mane.

“Yeah,” Applejack breathed, staring in awe at Mort.

There was an uncomfortably long silence. Mort bowed his head, looking guilty. Twilight couldn’t explain her own speechlessness... it was like the rest of her body was still trying to catch up with her mind.

“Okay,” Rainbow Dash said slowly, “I admit, that was... kinda awesome.”

“Eeyup.”

Mort seemed surprised to hear this. “R-really?”

“Well, it’s certainly not something you see everyday,” Rarity said, regaining her composure. “Most unicorns would be lucky to get something as sharp as a butter knife. It was... educational.”

“Do you think I can learn to do that?” Sweetie Belle asked excitedly.

Rarity looked levelly at her sister, before smiling and patting her head in a patronizing manner. “Sweetie, I’m barely comfortable with you using safety scissors. You are most certainly not trying anything sharper than that!”

“Aww...”

Pinkie Pie picked herself a slice, licking her lips. “Neat! You should help us in the bakery sometime, Morty! We wouldn’t need any knives with you around.”

“Very impressive, Mort,” Twilight said, finally finding her voice. “I don’t suppose you’ve ever been considered for Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns?”

“Oh, I don’t have an edu...” Mort paused, seeming to catch himself. “Er, I don’t have a higher education. Just, you know, basic stuff.”

“That’s too bad,” Rarity said, as she and the others started to pile up their plates. “Twilight told us all about what happened at Sugarcube Corner. You certainly seem to have a knack for it.”

“Oh, not really,” Mort said modestly, putting a single slice of pie on his plate. “I’ve only managed to do a couple spells at most. Whenever I try anything else, it never comes out right.”

“Maybe you just need the right teacher. Hey, that’s it!” Rainbow Dash suddenly pointed at Twilight, her eyes gleaming with an idea. “Twilight, you could help him with spells later! There has to be something he could learn from you.”

“Me?”

“Magic is your special talent.” Twilight looked at Fluttershy, who then quickly said, “Um, if you don’t mind, that is...”

“Oh, you don’t need to do all that,” Mort said, waving his hooves. “I don’t want to make you work or anything. Besides, my case is kinda... complicated.”

Twilight opened her mouth, ready to ask what he meant by that, but by then he was already chatting with the CMC, who were asking him for cutie mark ideas. Twilight recognized this for what it was: an attempt to avoid any more questions on the subject. She sighed softly, and poked at the pie slice in front of her.

The time seemed to fly by, with everypony talking about what had happened leading up to now. It was the first time Twilight had heard about how Applejack and Rainbow Dash managed to get Fluttershy and Rarity away. She laughed at the mental image of Applejack ending up in another dress, and how Rarity had been trying to stitch the suit up. Mort had laughed once, and looked ashamed immediately afterward, but it was Rarity herself who had told him to lighten up, and admitted she thought it was funny too.

Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy were a bit more cryptic. Rainbow Dash had related how she had to gather up all the animals, but when it came to the finer details of what happened between them, their answers became much more vague. Rainbow Dash said she had cheered up Fluttershy and encouraged her, but when asked how, the two of them just shot a quick glance at Mort and blushed.

Winona stuck by Applejack the entire time, never daring to get close to Mort.

After a little while, Mort became more comfortable and started talking about the sights he had seen when traveling across Equestria, including some of the more fantastic creatures, plant life, landscapes, and architecture he had run into. He ate very little, and whenever he did, the food would always be gone in a single bite. It never impeded his speech, and he somehow managed to avoid creating any crumbs. Sweetie Belle wrote on a piece of paper, her ears perking up at any mention of an activity or job.

Twilight hadn’t noticed it before, but so far none of the stories he’s told were really about him. They were always about the places he’s been to, or the ponies he’s met. Never once did he let something slip about his family, foalhood, or anything outside of his work.

She also kept thinking back to the story he told at Sugarcube Corner, with the couple and the fire. The details about it still bugged her. It wasn’t that she found it unbelievable or anything. She was very much enjoying the whole thing up until the very end: when he said it had been called Amsterdame.

That couldn’t be right. The only explanation she could think of was that it was a joke. A joke about his age, maybe? Or how long ago it happened? It’d be an odd joke, but that was the only reasonable explanation...

During all this, Granny had been quiet, slowly eating her food and focusing her attention on Mort. She’d scratch her chin, mumble to herself, and twist her head side-to-side, as if trying to find the right angle to look at him.

Big Mac was the one to bring it up, after washing down his last morsel of food. He wiped away the juice from his lips, and said, “You okay, granny? You’ve been starin’ at Mort all day.”

Mort, currently in the middle of a tale set in the griffon country of Aquilla, stopped himself to look at Granny. “Is there something wrong?”

Granny didn’t answer right away. She first cast a suspicious eye on him, her hoof tapping the table. “I know I’ve seen you somewhere,” she said. “I can’t remember fer the life of me where, but you look awful familiar fer some reason.”

“I... do get around a lot,” he said hesitantly, and it looked like he was having trouble meeting Granny’s gaze.

Twilight braced herself. Granny Smith was the definition of a kindly, old mare, but she was also the definition of an eccentric, old mare. The last thing they needed was her mistaking Mort for somepony else. Again.

Granny continued to stare at him, before suddenly breaking into a huge grin. “Why, now I remember! It was at Las Pegasus, wasn’t it?”

Twilight looked between Granny and Mort, seeing the latter shift uncomfortably in his seat. She also couldn’t help but notice the troubled looks between Big Mac and Applejack.

Mort cleared his throat nervously. “W-well I have made a few trips to Las Pegasus...”

“That must be it then,” Granny said excitedly, clopping the top of the table. “Why, I was there with my hubby for our last anniversary! Oh, we had so much fun. Children, did I ever tell you about the time when we were trying poker then? Your sneaky granddaddy ended up cleaning out a bunch of cocky young’ins! Why, one of them—”

“Maybe another time,” Applejack said hastily, a nervous smile plastered on her face. “Hoo boy, that was a mighty fine lunch! Y’know what we all need after a big meal like that?”

“Antacids?”

Applejack sniggered. “Yer a hoot, Mort, but I was thinkin’ more along the lines of...”

She trailed off, clearly intending for somepony else to finish her sentence. The seconds dragged on uncomfortably, with no pony coming forward with an idea.

Applejack frowned in annoyance. “Oh come on, y’all, do Ah have to spell it out for ya?” She reached under the table, and pulled out an elongated, stitched ball.

Rainbow Dash rubbed her hooves together. “Aw yeah, hoofball!”

“Hoofball!” Apple Bloom exclaimed, shooting her hooves into the air.

Applejack nodded serenely. “Hoofball.” She got off her seat, balancing the hoofball on her head. “Welp, Ah’ll be seein’ y’all on the field! Don’ keep me waitin’!” She dashed off, Winona following closely at her hooves.

Rainbow Dash floated into the air, stretching her legs and wings. “Well, if you’ll ‘scuse me, I got a mare to cream! Who’s coming?”

“Ooh, ooh!” Pinkie Pie’s hoof shot up, flailing wildly. “Pick me! Pick me! Please, please, pick me!”

Rainbow Dash feigned uncertainly for a few moments, causing Pinkie Pie to wave her hoof all the more desperately. Finally, she seemed to begrudgingly submit, and said, “Well, Pinkie, if you really want to—”

“Wee!” Rainbow Dash was spun around in the air as Pinkie Pie zoomed by, leaving a pink trail behind her. Rainbow Dash gradually slowed down, shaking her head to reorient herself.

“Okay,” she said, trying to even her voice, “I take it you’ll be playing too, big guy?”

“Eeeyup.”

“How about the rest of you?” Rainbow Dash asked, looking at the others. “Come on, we need at least four more ponies. Anyone?”

“Can we play?” Scootaloo asked, her wings fluttering excitedly.

“Sure thing, but to make things fair we have to have only one filly per team, so one of you will need to sit out.”

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo looked at Sweetie Belle, both giving her big, pleading grins. Sweetie Belle sighed. “Fine,” she pouted.

“I got dibs on Rainbow Dash!”

“Ah got dibs on mah sis!”

The two fillies high-hoofed and ran off. Rainbow Dash flew around to the other side of the table, nudging her friends. “Okay, come on, who else? Who else? Rarity?”

Rarity didn’t say anything. She crossed her forelegs over her chest and raised an eyebrow, looking flatly at Rainbow Dash.

“Yeah, kinda figured that was a long shot,” Rainbow Dash said, scratching the back of her head. “Could you at least referee or something? You’ve got a good eye for detail and everything.”

Rarity quietly mused over the idea. “Well, I can’t be on the field, at least not too often. I don’t want my hooves getting too dirty.”

“Uh, sure.”

“I’ll also need to lie down occasionally, preferably in the shade.” She brushed over her coat delicately. “Mort’s not the only one with a delicate complexion.”

“Okay...?”

“And you will not have me wear any of those garish uniforms! I’ve seen them up close, and they are far too tacky for my tastes!”

Rainbow Dash sighed. “Fine, fine, whatever! Will you do it?”

“Certainly,” she said, with a reserved smile.

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes, then turned to Twilight. “What about you? Wanna play?”

“Hoofball’s really not my kind of sport,” Twilight said. Actually, no sport was really her kind of sport, unless they made speed reading a sport someday. “Besides,” she said, with a touch of reproach, “Granny needs help putting everything away, don’t you think?”

“Hmm, good point. You should help her with that!” In the blink of an eye, Rainbow Dash was sitting next to Fluttershy, her foreleg wrapped around her shoulders. “Well, I guess that means you’re playing, Fluttershy!”

Fluttershy squeaked in fright, and tried to pull herself away. “O-oh, you don’t need to do that, Rainbow Dash! Besides, w-we’d still be a pony short, right?”

“Normally, yes, but we got somepony else here with us. Right, Mort?”

Mort sat up suddenly. “Huh?”

“Come on!” Another blink, and Rainbow Dash was floating beside, holding his head between her hooves. “When was the last time you played hoofball?”

“Er... never?”

She blinked in surprise. “Wow, really?” She pivoted his head around to be next to hers, making them both look at Fluttershy. “Come on, Fluttershy! This is serious now! You wouldn’t want this guy to miss out on playing hoofball for the very first time, would you?”

Fluttershy glanced away. “W-well, no...”

“Then what are we waiting for?!” Rainbow Dash started to drag Fluttershy towards where the others went, ignoring her protests. “Come over as soon as you can, Mort! We’ll get everything ready!”

“Uh, okay...” The four sitting ponies and one dragon watched the two head towards the others, with Fluttershy digging a trench wherever she was dragged. Mort looked questioningly at Twilight. “If you really want to, I could help you—”

“Perish the thought, dear!” Rarity said, cutting him off. “You’re the guest here. You should do as few chores as possible today!”

“Rarity’s right,” Twilight said. “Just go and have some fun. I’m sure we can handle things here.”

“I should probably get ready myself,” Rarity said, getting up from her seat. “Granny, you wouldn’t happen to have a lounge or anything, would you?”

Granny blinked uncertainly. “Uh... we have some towels in the barn?”

“That will have to do, I suppose,” Rarity said, sounding disappointed. “Come along, Mort. We shouldn’t keep them waiting.” She trotted off, her head raised in a refined fashion. Mort shot one more look at Twilight before following Rarity, almost tripping over the dirt left in Fluttershy’s wake.

Spike tried to dash after her, but he couldn’t escape the pull of Twilight’s magic. “Aw, Twilight! Come on!”

She lifted the dragon until he was at the same height as her. “Sorry, Spike, but I really need you to... help...”

Twilight trailed off. She gazed upon the table. Pans, plates and silverware had been strewn about haphazardly, piling up into teetering, ceramic towers. There was bundles of food piled up across the table, and she figured that not even half the food made had been eaten. The Apple family was always fond of making enough in a day to feed a family for a week.

She remembered the quick work Mort had done at Sugarcube Corner, and sighed. Maybe she should have kept Mort a little bit longer...

Author's Note

Special thanks to Pilate, Chuckle5 and Admiral Biscuit!

The Inexplicable Mort

Spike’s tongue slid across the face of the plate, grabbing every stray crumb and jam left behind. Smacking his lips, he then passed it over to Twilight, who scrubbed it with a soapy sponge until she could see her reflection in it.

“That’s the last of it,” she said, with a touch of finality. The plate dropped into the soapy water, the overflow spilling into the adjacent sink.

Granny Smith had finished up packing the rest of the leftovers, dropping an uneaten tart into a plastic bag. She wrapped it close with a whistle. “Goodness me! Seems that my eyes are always a little too big for our stomachs!”

“You did a great job, Granny.” Twilight looked over the pile of bags and containers in front of her. Her horn glowed, floating the bags of food around her, and proceeded to put them one-by-one into the fridge. “Thank you for having us over.”

“Ain’t nothin’ to it. Y’all are practically family as it is, after everythin’ we been through together.” She dried some sweat with a dish towel, exhaling loudly. “Ooh, I really need to lie down! Not sure how everypony can be up fer a game after all that food. How are they doin’ anyway, Spike?”

Spike hopped over to a window and pulled himself up to look out. “Uh, it looks like it could be going better?”

Twilight looked out the window next. Near the farmhouse, there had been a small area that Applejack had picked clean in order to create a makeshift hoofball field. The Apple family plus Mort was on one team, with Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and Scootaloo on the other. After an incident with one of the hoofballs, Mort now wore a tin pail on his head, covering up his horn. In what struck her as an effort to make him more comfortable, everypony else had also donned their own headwear, improvising with whatever they found. They wore wooden buckets, pots, small bundles of hay... Apple Bloom had even taken Winona’s food dish, much to the dog’s chagrin.

She couldn’t help but sigh when she saw that Applejack and Rainbow Dash were in the middle of an argument, and even from inside she could just make out the accusations: Applejack accused Rainbow Dash of moving too soon, and Rainbow Dash proclaimed that she hadn’t. Rarity stood in between them, looking frazzled. The two of them then turned to Rarity for her view... only to have her ask what “offsides” meant. That’s when things got really loud.

“Seems Rainbow Dash should’ve asked Rarity if she even knew the rules of the game,” Granny commented, shaking her head mournfully. “At this rate, I’m goin’ to have to break out the boxin’ shoes!”

“Yeah, and maybe call a doctor, too,” Twilight added flatly. “We should probably go out there before things get worse.”

Spike’s hand suddenly shot up. “Ooh, I know a couple things about hoofball! I could referee the game instead!”

“Why, that’s mighty generous of you, Spike,” Granny said, patting his head.

“Generous?” Spike scratched his chin, his eyes narrowed in contemplation. “Yeah... Rarity likes generous.” On that note, he turned tail and ran out the door, waving his arms as he ran towards the others.

“Be careful out there!” Twilight called out after him. “Don’t get trampled!”

“Dragon skin!” Spike called back.

Granny suddenly exhaled, stretching her creaking body. “Oooh, I’m beat,” she said. “I think I really oughta lie down for a spell. Care to join me in the living room, Twilight?”

“In a minute, Granny. How about I take the trash out while you get comfortable?”

“Sounds fine by me! Just don’t go slippin’ on anything.” Granny began to slowly hobble towards the living room, making a beeline for the rocking chair. Twilight turned to pick up the trash bags, easily lifting them with her magic, and went out the door.

Outside, she got a better look at what was now happening on the field. Spike had wasted almost no time: he had thrown on a referee uniform, and put himself in-between Applejack and Rainbow Dash. The lack of shouting meant she couldn’t hear what he said, but it seemed to be diffusing the tension between the team leaders. Rarity was also looking quite relieved, fanning herself with the sun visor.

Happy to see some semblance of order again, Twilight walked around the outside of the house, looking for the trashcans. She found them sitting at a corner of the house in the front yard, right beside a stack of logs leftover from winter. She was surprised to see Sweetie Belle sitting nearby, surrounding herself with pencils and crayons, and stacks of paper weighted down with rocks.

She lifted a lid off one of the cans, and threw the bags in before turning her attention to Rarity’s sister. “Hi, Sweetie Belle! What are you doing over here?”

“Oh, hi Twilight!” Sweetie Belle absently waved her hoof in Twilight’s direction, not looking up from a paper she was doodling on. “Yeah, since I couldn’t play, I thought I should work on some Cutie Mark Crusader stuff. All the yelling was distracting me, so I moved over here! It’s so much quieter now.”

“You have Spike to thank for that.” Twilight stood by, watching Sweetie Belle draw something involving lots of trees and backpacks.

Sweetie Belle suddenly stopped drawing, and spat out the crayon. “Hey, I was wondering...”

“Yes?”

“Well... is it okay if you try to cut something for me?”

Twilight was momentarily taken back, but smiled. “Sweetie, I’m sure Rarity was just exaggerating earlier about the scissors.”

“No, not with scissors or anything! I mean your horn,” she said, pointing at it.

“My... horn?” Twilight rubbed the tip of it. The tip was somewhat blunt, and would barely manage to puncture anything, much less cut.

“Yeah!” Sweetie Belle said, nodding eagerly. “You know, like Mort did!”

“Oooh,” Twilight said, suddenly understanding her. “You want another demonstration?”

“Uh huh! I know Rarity said she didn’t want me to, but I have to try everything I can to find my cutie mark. For all I know, my special talent could be being a hero or a knight! And a magic sword would be so much cooler than a regular sword!”

“Hmm, I don’t know, Sweetie,” Twilight said doubtfully. “Magical blades are really advanced when you get down to it. You need to be able to master many other aspects of magic, and by the time you’re ready to even attempt to make one, you’ll probably be much older and have a cutie mark already.”

“Then show me what I need to learn!” Sweetie Belle begged. “Come on, Twilight! For all we know, I’ll still not have a cutie mark years from now, and all because you never bothered to teach me how to follow my true calling!”

Twilight looked at Sweetie Belle skeptically. Rarity’s penchant for drama was rubbing off on her little sister, and it might not be best to encourage it by deferring to her. Plus it’d be going against Rarity’s wishes.

At the same time, the most innocent of observations could mean a world of difference for a pony. After all, where would Applejack be if she hadn’t looked out that Manehatten window all those years ago, and seen the sonic rainboom that lead her home? Maybe a little demonstration could inspire Sweetie Belle to study harder in magic, or satiate her curiosity now so she could focus on other things later. It wasn’t like she was going to run around slicing everything.

Twilight sighed, and then said, “Well, you convinced me, Sweetie, but if Rarity asks, I never did this, okay?”

Sweetie Belle nodded, making a zipping motion on her lips.

“Okay, so let’s see...” Twilight looked to the log stack beside them, picking off one of the smaller offering on top. Most likely it had been a thick tree branch. “How about this?”

“Aww, can’t you pick something bigger?”

“Like what?”

“LIke the ones on the bottom!” Sweetie Belle pointed to the bottom row of logs. Twilight glanced at them and gaped. Some of the bottom logs were huge, and even bigger than the filly beside her.

“Those are awful big,” Twilight said uncertainly, putting the branch back. “If it’s just a demonstration, then size shouldn’t matter, should it?”

“Come on, Twilight! Please?” Sweetie Belle put her hooves together in a pleading fashion. “I bet it’s only harder than it looks! They’re about the same size that Mort cut, and he did okay!”

“Really?” Twilight couldn’t hide the disbelief in her voice. She assumed the CMC had been exaggerating about the size earlier at the table, but Sweetie Belle seemed quite certain. Twilight bit her lip, imagining what it would mean to cut something that big. “Well...”

“Please?” Sweetie Belle pleaded again, her eyes big and wavery. “You won’t know until you try, right?”

Twilight sighed. She just didn’t have it in her to resist an expression that adorable. “Okay, Sweetie,” she said, smiling at her, “let’s see what we can do.”

At the far end of the pile, there was one log that didn’t have anything stacked on top of it, and looked to be safe enough to move without disturbing everything else. She levitated it over, and sat it down in front of her.

“Now, to make the blade,” Twilight started, “you have to be able to gather your magic at a singular point. It’s kinda like trying to lift something, only in this case, you don’t have something solid to work on.” She licked her dry lips, and began to concentrate. Her horn glowed as magic accumulated in air just above her head, gathering until it formed a small, irregular ball. “This part can be a little difficult, because like everything else, magic doesn’t want to stay still. You got that?”

Sweetie Belle nodded, her eyes glued to the demonstration.

“Alright, after you have your magic gathered, the next step is to visualize. You want to mold this into a more solid shape.” As she spoke, Twilight envisioned a rectangular cube, and gradually the magical energy became more compact and elongated. Twilight could hear an ooo coming from Sweetie Belle. “This is tricky for the same reason: magic doesn’t want to stay still. The more shape you want to give it, the less freedom it will have, and the more it will resist you. The same happens when you try to make it harder.” She closed her eyes, envisioning another shape—long, thin, sharp—and the blade began to form, looking similar to the swords Twilight had seen in the castle, minus the dust and hints of rust.

Sweetie Belle circled the blade from a distance, examining. “Cool! It looks bigger than Morts!”

“Yeah... only in this case, bigger may not actually be better.” Turning it longways, she saw it was still a little thicker than the swords she had seen, and not nearly as thin as the blade Mort produced. She couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. “If you’re purpose is to cut something, you want the edge to be as thin as possible. However, do you remember what I’ve said about magic?”

Sweetie Belle scratched her head, looking deep in thought. “Uh... it doesn’t want to stay still?”

“Exactly. If you make something thin, but not solid, the magic will just glide over whatever you’re swinging at. If you make it solid, but not thin, it’s more like a hammer than a blade. Doing both will give you a sharp edge, but it’s also forcing the magic to stay in one, relative position. The smaller its freedom, the greater its resistance. The greater the resistance, the...” Twilight paused, feeling dizzy for a moment. “The harder it is to maintain reliably.”

“Are you okay?” Sweetie Belle asked, concerned.

“I’m fine. Sorry, it’s just been a while since I did anything like this.” When Twilight felt that the edge was as sharp as it was going to get, she made one last “push”, and solidified the magical blade. It glowed brightly for a moment, and then dimmed, revealing a relatively thick blade that was partially transparent and colored raspberry.

“Now for the moment of truth!” Twilight motioned for Sweetie Belle to stand further away, not wanting any accidents. Once Twilight felt she was safe enough, she lifted the blade over her head, shut her eyes to avoid any flying splinters, and swung the weapon down with all her might.

When Twilight opened her eyes again, she saw most of the blade was still sticking out of the log. She pulled it free, and examined the cut. She estimated she had barely cut an inch into the wood. Frowning, she swung again, but the cut did not get much deeper.

After a few more swings, she pulled the blade up to her face, and looked at the edge. Some spots were already looking chipped along the length of it. She sighed, and showed it to Sweetie Belle, who had yet to look away once. “Well, as you can see, magical blades unfortunately share another trait with real blades: with enough use, they end up chipping.”

“Can’t you fix it?”

“I can, but it’s not as simple as fixing, say, a barrier. To fix this, you would need to not just fix the cracks, but also sharpen the areas you replace. It’s possible, of course, but imagine doing that constantly over a period of time. You’d get exhausted.

“I am going to change it, though, because something like this is ill-suited for wood.” She stuck her tongue out as she focused on the blade’s edge again, making it serrated. Then she started to draw the blade back and forth like a saw, and gradually began to cut deeper into the log. Every few swings, she could feel some of the teeth disappear, and had to concentrate to reform them. She began to move it faster and faster, and soon felt sweat beginning to form on her forehead. The saw was light, but the edge wasn’t as sharp as its steel equivalent, making the job harder.

Twilight sighed in relief as the resistance suddenly disappeared, and the log finally split in two. The magical saw vanished instantly, and Twilight stood tall proudly, ignoring the small headache she now had. “And that’s how it’s done,” she breathed, presenting the log.

Sweetie Belle stepped forward to look closely at the wood. Twilight peeked as well, and her inner perfectionist was pained to see that the cut was uneven, and the surface as rough as sandpaper. Still, it’s not like she was supposed to be a carpenter or anything.

“Wow,” Sweetie Belle said, “that looked kinda... hard.”

Twilight swallowed a gulp of air. “Yes,” she breathed, wiping away some sweat. “This is why unicorns still use tools for most things. It’s a lot easier to move a saw than to make one yourself. Practice can make it easier, of course, but ultimately the magical and physical toll is just not worth it. Actual blades are just more reliable, and they don’t dissapear when you get too tired.”

“Mort made it look so easy, though,” Sweetie Belle said, rolling a log piece back and forth. “He was all—chop, chop!—and he was done.”

Twilight cocked her eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah, it was like the pie earlier! Up, down, cut!” Sweetie Belle demonstrated by moving her forehoof up and down, before swinging both her forelegs horizontally.

“But wasn’t he tired afterwards?”

“Hmm... nope! He still seemed pretty normal,” Sweetie Belle said cheerfully.

Twilight rubbed the base of her horn, where most of her current headache was centered. She couldn’t imagine doing such a cut so quickly, much less to an entire tree. Then again, if it were like the blade he used on the pie, with an edge nearly invisible to the naked eye, it might be possible.

Most unicorns could do basic spells, but excelled at one, specific sort of magic. If a unicorn’s talent was to create fire, he or she could best other unicorns at it, even if they were more magically adept overall. While she’d seen magical blades before, she’d never seen one quite like Mort’s. While most were solidly made and floated around the caster, his seemed to flow straight out his horn, and almost looked to be in constant flux. It had to be his special talent, whether he was naturally capable of the spell, or if he simply had an affinity for cutting that he applied to his magic.

Except... why was a unicorn with a talent like that a collector? There were plenty of things that required precise cutting: carpentry, masonry, metalwork, surgery...

A pony’s talent didn’t always dictate their profession, of course, but most of the time it was at least related in some way. Rarity’s talent was finding jewels, and she used those jewels to enhance the spectacle of her dresses. So how would cutting enhance Mort’s job of running around and collecting artifacts?

She found herself thinking of Rainbow Dash’s insistence that Mort was a spy. It disturbed Twilight how well it could fit, but there was no way Luna would have those kind of ponies working for her... right? At least, not without Celestia knowing, which would make it all moot, because Celestia would never allow it... right?

“So,” Twilight said, “what did you think? Was it educational enough?”

“I guess,” Sweetie Belle said glumly, kicking at the dirt. “I didn’t think it’d be so complicated, though! Are magic swords and stuff any better than the real thing?”

“If by ‘real’ you mean metal, than... well, not really,” Twilight said, shrugging. “Theoretically they can be sharper, but never so much as to make traditional blades obsolete. Besides, things are so peaceful these days we hardly have a use for swords anyway. The ones we do have are either locked up in storage rooms, or are simply decorative. As for everything else, like farming or carpentry, what we have now is more than enough.”

Sweetie Belle sighed despondently. “Well, so much for that idea.”

“Aww, don’t be like that,” Twilight said, rubbing her head. “You don’t need magic swords, or even regular swords, to be a hero. Just look at your sister! She’s helped save Equestria three times so far, and she doesn’t need a weapon for a cutie mark to do that.”

“Yeah... hey, yeah, you’re right!” Sweetie Belle exclaimed excitedly. “My sis does lots of cool things besides fashion stuff!”

“Exactly!” Twilight said. “And I think that’s something you should really keep in mind... just because something’s your talent, doesn’t mean it has to be the only thing you can do, or the only thing you’ll be good at. Applejack’s cutie mark is about her devotion to her family and farm, but she does plenty of other things, too.”

“Like rodeos and hoofball, right?”

“Right.”

Sweetie Belle nodded, the earlier gloom now completely gone. “A sword would still be cool, though.”

Twilight giggled. “Just don’t let Rarity hear that,” she said, rubbing Sweetie Belle’s head.

The whole talk made her recall what she was thinking earlier about Mort, and now she felt silly. So what if his talent and profession had nothing in common? Maybe he had a hobby he really liked, or maybe he didn’t. It didn’t matter.

She also felt a little guilty. Why did she feel so suspicious about him? It was like he couldn’t say or do anything without her putting him under a microscope. Why did she let it bother her so much? So what if one part of his story seemed off? He was probably just exaggerating for effect.

She needed to apologize to him. He would probably be confused, and maybe a little hurt, but nothing else felt right. She couldn’t do that until the game was over, though. Until then, the most she could do was watch from the sidelines, or maybe...

She looked behind Sweetie Belle, seeing the paper Sweetie Belle had been doodling on. “You know, since I’m here, how about I help you with your other ideas. What are you drawing here, for instance?”

“Plans for our next Cutie Mark Crusader project,” Sweetie Belle answered, sitting back down. She picked up an orange crayon, and drew a simple sun in one corner of the page. “We’re going to try skydiving next!”

Twilight involuntarily bit her lip. Normally a pony would roll their eyes when they heard a foal say that, assuming an overactive imagination. She knew first-hoof, however, that the CMC were far more resourceful and ambitious than most ponies even twice their age. At least with magic swords, Sweetie Belle would be lucky to emit a spark.

“And just how are you going to manage that?” she asked, wondering how she could nip the idea in the bud without disappointing Sweetie Belle too much.

“Well, we can’t really fly up to a cloud or anything, so I was thinking we could use one of the taller trees, or... ooh! We saw this really tall cliff the other day! We could probably use that! Applebloom could get some bed sheets, Scootaloo said she can get some string, and we can stitch it all together at Rarity’s!”

“Well, that sounds like quite the plan,” Twilight said, lifting the top drawing to look at. Her mind was already creating a checklist of reasons why it wouldn’t work, and hopefully stop the foals from breaking all their bones. “Although, you should probably know that when it comes to skydiving, you need to be much higher up than... huh?”

Twilight’s lecture was derailed at an unusual sight on the paper. Sweetie Belle had drawn a tall tree, and next to it a tall cliff, and above them was a doodle of a backpack, which Twilight assumed was meant to contain the parachute. What caught her eye, however, were the four faces in the top-right corner. While three of them were obviously meant to be the CMC, below them was white face with black eyes and red irises.

“Sweetie Belle, what’s this?” she asked her, pointing it out.

“Oh, that’s Mort!” Sweetie Belle said. “I was thinking he could go skydiving with us! We could ask him to help, too! He could cut out the parachutes and everything!”

She squinted as his portrait. "That's an... interesting way to draw him."

"Really?" Sweetie Belle asked, sounding confused. "Is there something wrong with it?"

"Well, it's just... nevermind, it's nothing." Twilight had already lectured on magic. She didn't need to dive into art. "I'm surprised you're even inviting him."

Sweetie Belle froze. Her eyes glanced around nervously. “Uh, why?”

“Well, it’s just I never saw you girls try to invite anypony else with you,” Twilight pointed out, noticing the peculiar behavior. “Not even Rarity or Applejack.”

“Well, they’re... you know, busy,” Sweetie Belle said, her nervousness almost palpable now. “We were thinking it’d be fun. And he’s been to a lot of places, so we think he might be able to give us some ideas, too.”

“I’m sure it’d be fun,” she said gently, “but don’t you think he’s a little old for all this?”

“He’s not too old,” Sweetie Belle shot back, sounding defiant. “You’re never too old to find a cutie mark!” Moments after the last word left her lips, Sweetie Belle gasped and covered her mouth.

Twilight stared at her oddly. “Excuse me?”

“N-nothing, forget I said anything!” Sweetie Belle went back to her drawing, scribbling frantically on a piece of paper. It was quickly apparent that she wasn’t drawing much of anything. She glanced back at Twilight, then quickly returned her attention to the “drawing” in front of her.

“Sweetie Belle, what’s wrong?” Twilight took what Sweetie Belle said and rolled it over in her head, trying to parse some meaning out of it. Why did she suddenly get so defensive, and then become so evasive? She just thought Mort was a little old for the CMC’s usual activities, not that he was too old to find...

Twilight’s jaw dropped in shock. That couldn’t be it, could it? “Sweetie Belle, are you saying Mort doesn’t have—”

“Shhhh!” Twilight shut her eyes as Sweetie Belle’s spittle found her face. When the very loud sushing ceased, she opened her eyes to see Sweetie Belle now looking at her guiltily.

Twilight lowered her body and voice, speaking in a low whisper. “Are you saying... Mort doesn’t have a cutie mark?”

Sweetie Belle stared at her silently for a few seconds, before nodding her head slowly.

“Oh my gosh,” Twilight gasped, covering her mouth. That had to be a mistake.

“We promised Mort we wouldn’t tell anypony! And I just blew it...” Sweetie Belle covered her face in shame, sounding to be on the border of tears. “Please don’t tell.”

“Are... are you sure?” Twilight asked, still not quite believing, and not wanting to misunderstand. “Did you see it, or... not see it?”

“He told us himself,” Sweetie Belle mumbled.

Twilight was speechless. Was that why he always wore that cloak? Or why he seemed so nervous around so many of them? Was he afraid somepony would find out? Most ponies found it silly to worry about cutie marks, because many of them had gone through that phase as foals themselves, only to find they had nothing to worry about after all. Cutie marks were just a given, plain and simple.

She had never heard of an adult pony without a cutie mark, though. How would other ponies react to that? She knew there were some adults who scoffed at foals who didn't have their cutie marks yet, and who knew how they'd treat another adult in the same boat. It was just so bizarre and...

She felt a stab of shame when she realized she was doing it too. No wonder he kept himself covered up.

Sweetie Belle was still looking at her pleadingly, waiting for an answer. Smiling as reassuringly as possible, she said, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anypony, okay? Still, I wonder why he doesn’t have one yet...”

“It’s not his fault,” Sweetie Belle said quickly. “He doesn’t have a cutie mark because he can’t get cutie mark!”

“What?”

“It’s a medical condition! It keeps him from getting a cutie mark,” Sweetie Belle exclaimed, almost desperately.

“A condition?” Twilight was sympathetic, but some skepticism leaked into her voice. “Sweetie, I’ve never heard of something like that.”

“Me neither,” the foal said, showing Twilight the pictures she had been working on. “But what if the doctors are wrong? What if he just needs to find the right thing to do and get his cutie mark? He needs it a lot more than we do right now! That’s why we wanted him to come with us.” Sweetie Belle bowed her head sadly, her curls covering her eyes. "We just wanted to help."

Twilight wracked her brain, drawing on whatever medical knowledge she had gleaned over the years. A disorder that keeps a pony from getting a cutie mark was serious. She thought she would’ve heard of it by now.

“Can you keep this a secret, Twilight?” Sweetie Belle pled. “I don’t want everypony getting mad at me for breaking a promise. And I don’t want everypony treating Mort differently either.”

After a moments hesitation, Twilight said, “Your secret’s safe with me, Sweetie.” She tapped her chin, pondering what she’d been told. “Maybe I could look this ‘condition’ up at the library, see if there’s anything I can do.”

The unicorn filly gasped in delight. “Really?! Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” Sweetie Belle rushed forward and wrapped her forelegs around Twilight’s neck, squeezing with all her foalish might.

Twilight patted her on the back, and gently dislodged herself from Sweetie Belle. “I’m going to go back inside and check on Granny, okay? You just keep... doing what you’re doing. For Mort’s sake.” She looked at the skydiving paper, and added, “Um, let me get back to you on this, though.”

“Okay!” Sounding relieved, Sweetie Belle did a little salute and went back to her drawings, drawing whatever popped into her head.

Twilight looked down at the skydiving paper, her eyes drawn again to the four faces in the corner. The CMC’s faces were all circular, with scribbles on top of the heads to represent their manes. Mort’s face had black scribbles all around him, probably to represent the cloak. It was no wonder Twilight couldn’t recognize him. The way Sweetie Belle drew him, it almost looked like a...

Skull mask.

Twilight felt a sudden chill crawl up her spine as Derpy’s words echoed in her head. She levitated the drawing upward, unable to shake the unease she felt from seeing “Mort’s” face. The longer she looked at it, the more disturbed she felt. She glanced at Sweetie Belle, and seeing that the filly’s attention was elsewhere, she dropped the paper into the nearby trash can. She only felt a little better.

Going back inside the house, Twilight saw that Granny had just reached the rocking chair. A content sigh rose from her as she settled in, the chair tilting back and floorboards creaking beneath her.

“Ahh, my favorite sound in the world,” she said, resting her head back. “What took ya so long, dear? Bag rip or somethin’?”

“Oh, nothing like that.” Twilight sat down on a sofa across from her, finding herself eager to talk about something else. “I hope we didn’t impose on you too much. I know this must’ve been sudden.”

“Fiddlesticks, girl! It’s never too early to prepare somethin’ nice for friends and family,” Granny said, dismissively waving a hoof. “An’ I have to say, my granddaughter has a knack for makin’ the most interestin’ friends. That Mort feller’s somethin’ else, ain’t he?”

Twilight sighed. “That’s one way to put it.”

Granny looked at her curiously, an eyebrow raised. “Somethin’ wrong?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Twilight said quickly. “Kinda silly, really...”

“It may be silly, but if it’s eatin’ at ya I ain’t sure if it’s ‘nothing,’” Granny said, sitting up. “Come on, you can tell ol’ Granny, can’t ya?”

Twilight looked away, uncertain. Only one pony was on her mind, and the longer this day went on, the more she wanted to talk about him to somepony else. Especially after what Sweetie Belle had just told her. It seemed like she was always learning something knew, and at the same time knowing even less as a result. Still, she couldn’t want to say too much, too soon. Nor did she want to jump to any conclusions.

“Well, it’s just... I guess I’m getting a little frustrated,” she said guiltily. “With him, I mean.”

“Why? He doin’ somethin’ that’s buggin’ ya?”

“More like he’s not doing something. Granny, what can you tell me about Mort?”

“Hmm...” Granny’s eyes rolled upward as she tapped her chin. “Well, he seems to be an alright young stallion, though I get the feelin’ he’s on edge fer some reason. Maybe he’s just nervous around others, though from what I’ve gathered, yer gonna help him with that.”

“Absolutely, but what do you know about him personally?”

“Well, he runs around a lot to pick up rare stuff and deliver it someplace, and he’s been to a lot of places.”

“Okay, but what about his family? Where he grew up? His interests outside of work?”

Granny looked at her blankly, then cleared her throat, clearly embarrassed. “Heh, I’m sorry, dear, I must’ve dozed off when he mention that.”

Twilight shook her head. “You didn’t. Fact is, whenever Mort’s talking about himself, it’s always related to his work. Doesn’t that seem odd? I feel like he’s trying to hide everything about himself.” Well, he was definitely hiding his lack of a cutie mark, but would it require hiding everything else, too?

Granny shrugged. “I don’t rightfully know, dear. Maybe his past is just painful for him to talk about?”

“I guess that’s possible, but...” Maybe she was going about this the wrong way. Maybe, for now, she just had to play dumb, as much as it pained her. “Ever since Mort got here, I’ve had this feeling that I’m missing something obvious about him. As if it’s right in front of my face. I tried to forget about it, but I don’t think I can ignore it anymore.”

“Well, if you feel that strongly, why don’t you talk to him about it?”

“Because I don’t want to stir up anything if I can help it. The letter I got made it sound like Mort could be recalled at any time.” She frowned, shaking her head sadly. “I don’t want to sour his stay here anymore than it’s already been, especially if I’m wrong about everything. And I don’t want to make any of my friends suspicious of him, either.”

“Good points,” Granny said, nodding. “Way I see it, so long as he ain’t hurtin’ nopony, you shouldn’t think so much about how much—or how little—he’s actually sayin’. In which case, it’d best just to forget ‘bout it. ‘Course, there’s also a chance he’s beatin’ himself up over some silly thing, which might be why he ain’t so keen on sharing too much personal information. If that’s the thing that’s makin’ him so antsy around y’all, it could do him good to know he don’t have to worry ‘bout it too much.”

Twilight stared at her. “So, wait. You’re saying I shouldn’t bring it up... and that I should bring it up?”

“Oh, I ain’t tellin’ you to do squat,” Granny said. “I’m simply sayin’ that both options have their ups and downs. It’s up to you which one to go with.”

“But... Granny, I appreciate your advice, but you’re basically saying that anyway I go, I could either make things better or worse!”

Granny looked at her sympathetically. “I’m sorry, dear. Like my hubby used to say, ya don' know what ya stepped in until after the fact.”

Twilight scrunched up her nose in disgust. “Well, that’s a colorful way to put it.”

Granny chortled. “Yep, Baldwin always was one to say things as plainly as possible.”

Twilight’s ear flicked up, catching the name. “Baldwin?”

“Hm hmm, he was my late husband, Celestia rest his soul. I got a picture of him on the fireplace, if ya want to see.”

“Sure.” Twilight got off the sofa and walked towards the fireplace, her eyes drawn to the pictures. “It’s funny, when Mort got here he said...”

Twilight trailed off as her eyes caught one of the photos. It was an aged, black-and-white photo, sitting inside a copper frame. Two ponies were in the foreground: one was a mare dressed in Victorian-style clothing, and the other was a stallion dressed in a suit. What struck her about the stallion was that his suit had obviously been burned by something, and his face was streaked with soot.

The stallion was kneeling down, one hoof resting on the rim of a top hat, and the other holding out a tiny box that displayed a ring. The mare across from him was frozen in mid-gasp, and Twilight could just make out some tear stains. Behind them were a crowd of ponies, some of them wearing very distinct fire helmets.

Twilight couldn’t take her eyes off the picture. Her mouth felt dry. “That’s...”

“My great-great grandparents!” Granny said proudly, looking reverently at the picture. “That picture’s got quite the story behind it! Want to hear it?”

Twilight nodded numbly. It just wasn’t possible, but... “Did it involve a fire?”

“Saw the firefighters, did ya? Yer right, it was a big ol’ blaze that was the talk of the town for days and days, they say! Sweet Orchid—that’s the mare, you see—was supposed to be meetin’ with her coltfriend, Apple Seed—that’s the fellow kneelin’ on the right—because he had somethin’ very important to tell her. But before she got there, some kind of fire broke out in the back of the restaurant, and it sent everpony runnin’ out in a panic! But when Apple Seed got out, he realized he forgot somethin’.”

“The ring,” Twilight intoned.

“Ain’t it always? When he realized what had happened, he rushed back inside to look for it, dodgin’ burnin’ timbers and everything! He finally found it, then rushed towards the door, but he dropped his hat on the way. He done a fool thing and actually reached down to pick it up, but then the dangdest thing happened!”

“An explosion.”

Granny was taken aback briefly. “Er, well, yes! The fire must’ve licked somethin’, because the next thing anypony knows, the whole place practically goes up in a big ol’ fireball! Whoosh!” Granny Smith spread her forelegs out theatrically, precariously balancing on the legs of her rocking chair. “Apple Seed would’ve been a goner, but when he went to get his hat, the table next to him took most of the blast! If he hadn’t done that, he would’ve been a crispy critter, and you might not even be talkin’ to me today!”

When Twilight didn’t say anything, Granny continued and said, “Well, when he got out of that restaurant, with his mane charred and suit ruined, do you know what he did? He ran straight up to Sweet Orchid and proposed to her on the spot! That photo you see on the mantle was the front page news in Manehatten the very next day! ‘Course, back then the city was called—”

“Amsterdame,” Twilight finished quietly.

Granny Smith stared at her. “Well, it sounds like you already heard this story,” she said, with mock grumpiness.

“I think I did,” Twilight said, a feeling of unease settling over her. “That fire... it must’ve been years ago.”

“Over a century, more like!” Granny said. “It’s because of those two meetin’ that there’s even an Apple family now! We even named our farm after them... Sweet Apple Acres, see?”

“I... see...”

Granny leaned forward, concerned. “You okay, honey? You don’ look too good. Somethin’ you ate?”

“I-I’m fine, Granny,” she said, walking towards the door outside. “I just need some air, and time to think...”

“If you say so,” Granny said, not sounding entirely convinced. “Why don’t you see how that game’s goin’ outside? Make sure Mort’s doin’ alright.”

“Yeah,” she said, opening the door, “I’m definitely going to need to talk to him.”

Twilight walked out of the house, her mind a jumble of conflicting thoughts and feelings. Holding a coherent thought was like holding a hooffull of eels. She was so distracted, she didn’t hear the joyous cheer from the field, and was just barely able to notice the small herd of ponies walking towards her.

“Good game, everypony!” Applejack yelled, spinning the hoofball on her forehoof. “Especially you, Mort! Nice dash in the end.”

“O-oh, it was nothing!” Mort’s stutter was not from nervousness this time, but from excitement. He was practically skipping. “That was some of the most fun I’ve had in ages!”

“Yeah, yeah, good game...” Rainbow Dash trotted up beside Mort, at first directing a sour look at the abashed pony, before smiling and lightly punching his shoulder. “Good job out there, dude. I should’ve had you on my team. You’re way slipperier than you look! I could’ve sworn I had you.”

“That’s probably the first time anypony ever avoided being tackled by Rainbow,” Pinkie Pie said, trotting beside him. “You’re breaking all sorts of records today, aren’t you, Morty?”

“Uh, yeah. What can I say? I guess I got talent!” He laughed, though there was a nervous twinge to it.

Rainbow Dash broke away and joined the others trailing in the back. “How’s Fluttershy, Rarity?”

“I think she’ll be fine,” Rarity said, wiping a wet rag over Fluttershy’s face. The yellow pegasus was draped over Big Mac’s back, looking faint.

“I-Is the game over?” Fluttershy asked dazedly. “What happened?”

“Yeah, it’s over,” Spike said, massaging her back. “You froze up when Apple Bloom was running at you.”

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “Okay, I can understand being afraid of Big Mac, or Applejack, or maybe even Mort, but Apple Bloom? Seriously?”

“Y-you weren’t there,” Fluttershy despaired. “She had her game face on!”

“Grr!” Fluttershy squeaked and covered her eyes as Apple Bloom suddenly darted out from underneath Big Mac, her teeth barred. Everypony burst into laughter at the sight, and a moment later even Fluttershy joined in.

Twilight brushed aside all her current misgivings, and forced a smile to her face. “Hey, everypony. How did the game go?”

“We won! We won!” Apple Bloom was hopping up and down, kicking her legs out in excitement. Beside her, Scootaloo sulked, her wings and ears drooping low. It would’ve remained that way had it not been for Rainbow Dash, who patted her on the back. The affectionate gesture was enough to lift the orange filly’s spirits, who nuzzled into her idol’s forehoof.

“I’m glad to see you all had a good time,” she said, her eyes immediately drawn to Mort. The cloaked pony was checking on Fluttershy, helping her get off Big Mac’s back. “Hey, Mort!”

He turned to look at her, and once again Twilight found herself thinking back to Sweetie Belle’s drawing. She had barely suppressed a shudder when she asked, “Since you’ve worked out your body, maybe we should work out your brain next?”

He trotted towards her, the medallion around his neck glinting in the sun. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I don’t know about you,” she said, injecting pep into her voice, “but I find that curling up with a good book is an excellent way to relax. Oh, and now that I mentioned it, we were talking about some magic lessons earlier! You know, kill two birds...”

“What?!” The reaction came from Fluttershy, who was staring at her in wide-eyed horror.

“I-It’s a figure of speech!” Twilight said quickly. “An expression! Just means we accomplish two things at once!”

Fluttershy breathed a sigh of relief. “What awful way to say it,” she said, her hair still standing up. “Why would a pony want to kill birds, anyway? We don’t eat them or anything.”

Mort tapped his chin. “Now that you mention it, I think it was derived from a much older, griffon saying.”

“Really?” Twilight said. “What was it?”

“Kill two ponies with one stone,” Mort said, as if lecturing. “See, they sometimes would carry these big stones with them in the air, find a group of ponies below, and... uh...”

He trailed off, perhaps noticing the sudden paleness in Fluttershy, or Twilight’s own disgusted look.

“O-of course both the saying and practice fell out of use centuries ago for very understandable, ethical reasons, and is seen as deplorable by all griffons today,” Mort shot off. “So, uh, no need to worry!” He paused, then added, “Mostly.”

“At all, you mean,” Twilight said, with false cheer. “We don’t have to worry about rocks falling from the sky at all.”

“Well, once or twice a year the occasional pegasus or griffon—”

“Fluttershy!” Twilight said suddenly, grabbing the pegasus by the shoulders. “How about you check up on Angel and the others? Make sure they’re not planning any mischief or anything!”

“Oh, uh, sure,” she said, looking about as colorful as she did when under Discord’s control. “Um, can I take Pinkie Pie with me?”

“Why?”

“Well, it’s not for her twitchy tail or anything, that’s for sure!” She giggled nervously, her eyes darting between Twilight and the sky above. “L-let’s go, Pinkie! Stay close to me, please?” There was an element of desperate pleading in her words.

“Sure!” Pinkie Pie followed Fluttershy as the pegasus cautiously trotted off, always glancing up every few steps.

“Hey, what about my airshow?” Rainbow Dash asked, sounding indignant. “I thought we were doing that next?”

“We’ll get to it, don’t worry,” Twilight said, trying to calm her, “but I figured that after that game, you and the others should try to rest up. You know, so you can be at your very best.”

Rainbow Dash rubbed her chin, thinking it over. “You know what? That’s a good point. I never want to show off at less than 120%.”

“Don’t you mean 100%?”

“Pfft, that’s for normal ponies,” Rainbow Dash boasted, nudging Mort. “Just you wait, I’m gonna blow your mind later!”

An idea formed in Twilight’s mind. “How about this, then? We’ll all meet up at your house in a few hours, and then you can show off how great you are. I can just pick up Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie before it starts.”

“Sounds good to me!” Rainbow Dash stretched in the air, popping some bones in the process. “I’ll head over, check on Tank, probably have a power nap, and then get a show ready for you guys! See ya later!” She waved at them, then rocketed into the sky, leaving a rainbow trail behind.

“Well, me and McIntosh were thinkin’ that we oughta get those logs Apple Bloom was tellin’ us about,” Applejack said, bucking the hoofball over to Winona, who then ran off with it. “You can never have too much firewood!”

“Ooh, and I could come with you, Twilight!” Rarity said, sauntering over. “If you’re going to teach Mort magic, having two unicorns could certainly—”

“No!”

Rarity and Mort stared at Twilight, shocked by the sudden outburst.

Twilight gulped. She just couldn’t have Rarity with her. Not with what she had planned. “I-I mean, it’s generally more effective if there’s only one teacher,” she said. “You know, ‘too many cooks’ and all that.”

“Well, I don’t have to teach,” Rarity said. “I could just watch and offer some encouragement.”

Twilight sighed, then motioned for Rarity to come closer. Bemused, the fashionista complied, and the two move further away from the others.

“Rarity, I’m sorry,” Twilight whispered, “but I really need some one-on-one time with Mort.”

“Oh, but whatever for?” she asked. “I just want to help the dear out, and assure him there’s no ill feelings between us after... earlier.”

“I know, but this is very important, okay?” Twilight put both her forehooves on Rarity’s shoulders, staring straight at Rarity. “I can’t have anypony else around. Not even Spike.”

Rarity stared at her a few moments, her eyes analyzing her. Slowly, a mischievous grin grew. “Oh, I understand now.”

Twilight blinked in surprise. She didn’t like that look. “You do?”

“Oh, it’s obvious!” she said, almost gleeful. “Two unicorns, both who felt like outcasts, both who needed help making friends, both with surprising magical talents...” Rarity trailed off, arching an eyebrow knowingly.

“Rarity, I never felt like...” Her friend’s words began to sink in, and Twilight realized with a start what Rarity was getting at. “Oh, no, Rarity, it’s nothing like—”

“Oh, don’t worry, dear! My lips are sealed.” She ran the tip of her hoof across her lips. “I’ll just take Spike off your hooves and give you two some alone time.” She winked suggestively at her.

Twilight facehooved, but before she could protest further, Rarity was already trotting away, calling for Spike. The white unicorn looked back at her one more time, and winked. Twilight rolled her eyes in response.

Mort walked up to her, his head bowed. “Um, listen, I’m really sorry about what I said. I just tend to say stuff like that without thinking much—”

“Forget it, Mort. I know you didn’t mean it, but... you really need to be more careful with stories like that. Especially with Fluttershy in the audience. Just...” She sighed, pinching between her eyes. “Just go on ahead to the library. I’ll be right with you.” She pointed towards the entrance of Sweet Apple Acres, gesturing with her head. After a moments hesitation, Mort nodded and headed towards it, looking back at her a couple times. It was only after she gave him a reassuring smile that he stopped.

The action reminded her that Mort was still just somepony trying to fit in. The letter had said he hardly had any time for others, and situations like this only illustrated that fact. She felt a little guilty about her reaction, but he really should’ve known what sort of effect that story would have had on Fluttershy.

It occurred to Twilight a lot of the stories Mort told always had some element of peril. Fires, bulls, natural disasters, crazy accidents... now that she thought about it, it stuck out that ponies could have died in a lot of those stories, or came very close to it.

Just as she was getting ready to follow Mort, she spotted Applejack near the entrance of the barn, helping her brother pull out a large wagon. Once outside, Applejack jumped into the back of the wagon, and began to throw out all manners of tools and, for lack of a better word, junk. No doubt she was making room for the wood that Mort had cut.

Twilight was reminded that there was one more thing she had to check out before she left. She ran over to the cowpony, skidding to a stop beside the wagon. “Applejack, I have to ask you something.”

“Ah’m all ears, sugarcube,” she replied, tossing a spade behind the wagon. “How can Ah help?”

“How much do you know about your grandfather? Baldwin, I mean?”

“Well, not an awful lot,” she admitted, dropping a pitchfork on the ground, “but I hear a lot of stories from Granny. He was a really fun guy, from what Ah was told.”

“What happened at Las Pegasus, then?” she asked. “Granny was going to tell us, but it seemed like you were stopping her.”

Applejack stopped what she was doing. She walked over to the side of the wagon, and rested her forelegs on the railings. “Well, we were all havin’ a good time, an’ I was afraid of bringin’ the mood down.”

“Why? Did something happen between them?”

“Nah, everythin’ was fine between them,” Applejack said, shrugging. “Granny says they had a rip-roarin’ good time, actually. They gambled a little, saw some celebrities, watched a couple shows, and went to bed after samplin’ a lot of the fancy wine they were servin’. It’s just that...”

Applejack’s hesitation filled Twilight with a sudden feeling of apprehension. She found her mind wandering to earlier musings about Mort’s own stories, and theme they all seemed to share. “Just what?”

Applejack sighed. “Well, the next mornin’, Granny was the only one that woke up.”

When the two of them were back in town, Mort couldn’t avoid all the stares directed his way. Ponies pointed, giggled, and gossiped to their fellow townsfolk beside them. A few did try to wave at him, and some even asked if everything was okay. He’d give curt answers, but Twilight seemed intent on ignoring them. Her only concern seemed to be getting to the library as quickly as possible.

While Mort felt a little embarrassed being back in town, it didn’t feel nearly as bad as he thought it would. It might have helped that he was still coming down from the high he felt at the farm. Mort had played games with Luna before, and had even won sometimes, but those times never felt as good as it did at Pinkie’s party, or on the makeshift hoofball field. He had never experienced so many ponies being so happy because of something he did. Most of the time they were understandably gloomy.

Rainbow Dash, though, was half-right: she really did have him, he believed, but with him being so close to the goal line, and an entire team depending on him, he could have panicked and possibly... may have... kinda-sorta... accidentally... made his rear legs intangible, giving Rainbow Dash nothing to grab when she dove at him.

It might have technically been... okay, it was definitely cheating, but by the time he realized what happened, he had already reached the goal and won the game. It wasn’t like he could tell them what happened, but if he could... actually, he wasn’t sure if he would. Nevermind the shame of cheating, he would hate to have to disappoint the Apple siblings by losing. It was fine if only he lost, like in the board games with Luna, but bringing down everypony else, too?

It occurred to him that he was just now wrestling with the dilemma of staying silent or telling the truth about a harmless game. Most ponies probably experienced something like this as early as foalhood, but him? When he was young, he was busy learning how to tell a pony that their mortal body was being digested by the nearby dragon. He felt so behind...

It also occurred to him that he and Twilight had barely said a word to each other since they left. It made him fear that she was still upset about the impromptu history lesson he gave Fluttershy. Should he apologize again, or try to start a conversation about something else?

“Um, you really missed quite the game,” he said, trying to sound casual. “You know, the first goal Applejack scored was something else. She—”

“Can it wait, Mort? The library’s just around the corner,” Twilight said, keeping her eyes forward. “We can settle in when we get there, and—hey!”

“What is it?” When Twilight suddenly took off, Mort raced after her, wondering what she’d seen to get her so worked up.

When he saw Twilight standing in front of the library’s sign, he slowed to a stop, a feeling of dread growing inside him. “W-what’s wrong?” he asked innocently.

“Look at this!” She turned towards him and gestured at the sign. Mort saw that the library sign was, unsurprisingly, in the same shape he had left it: covered in large cracks, with a hole in the center that was hastily sealed. Mort was an expert when it came to cutting, but his knowledge on putting things together was sorely lacking.

“That... looks bad,” he stiffly said.

“I can’t believe anypony would do this!” Twilight brushed her hoof across the woodwork, and pulled back when part of it broke off. “This has to be a felony. When I find the pony who did this...”

Mort gulped. “W-well, I’m sure we could run and get a carpenter.”

She sighed deeply, turning to the library door. “No, this is going to have to wait. We’ve got more important things to worry about.”

“Really, Twilight, I don’t mind. Teaching me magic is not that big a deal.”

Twilight stopped in the doorway, and looked back at Mort. Her expression was neutral, but Mort could detect the strained muscles in her face, indicating it was forced.

“This is a big deal,” she stated distantly, and continued inside. Confused and worried, Mort followed behind her, the door shutting behind him.

Twilight was already halfway up the stairs. “Just take a seat anywhere,” she called down. “I need to get some books. It’ll only be a minute.”

“Okay...?” When nothing else was heard, Mort shuffled over to the table in the center. He sat down next to it, staring at the wooden expression of the pony bust in the center.

Something had changed when he wasn’t looking. Ever since lunch, Twilight had been acting very differently. She had hardly spoken to him, and was giving him odd looks when she thought he wasn’t looking. Now she had insisted on seeing him alone.

Maybe it was because of what he did with his scythe? Twilight was a magic prodigy. Maybe she’d seen something that the others couldn’t. Or maybe she was going to have him show her how he did it. She did have an obsession in understanding how the world worked.

That’s probably it. She said so herself that most ponies couldn’t manage a magical blade, and seeing his must’ve made her extremely curious. Or she really was mortified that he couldn’t perform many spells, and wanted to fix that.

Yes, that’s probably all it was. He just needed to be patient and wait for her. He could wait for months before seeing Celestia or Luna; he could wait a couple minutes for Twilight.

His thoughts returned to the Apple farm. He didn’t expect things to turn out so well. Especially after he remembered that he’d been in that farmhouse before. Once he saw inside their home, he knew who the parents were, and what had happened to them. He even recalled that the two were not as worried as he thought they’d be, telling him that they were confident their children would pull through. He was happy to see that they had been right.

He felt pretty sorry for Winona. While most animals lacked the complex emotions of other, sentient species, Mort still had an idea of what was going through Winona’s head when he petted her. The dog had thought she was protecting her family, but was utterly confused and fearful of the fact that they didn’t see Mort’s true form. What Mort felt then was a terrible, internal conflict: Winona’s devotion to Applejack was driving her to obey and behave, but that same devotion was also telling her to protect Applejack by attacking Mort. Hopefully she was now chewing on some bone and feeling content again.

Then there was Granny. While Mort was invisible to all the physical senses, he still popped up in the spiritual ones. With most ponies lacking any sort of spiritual affinity, however, it was like waving a flag at somepony from behind a solid door. Occasionally, though, some like Granny could sense Mort, even if they didn’t realize it. She knew vaguely that he had been with Baldwin; she just didn’t know that it was only after the latter’s death. Given how little he’d been material in front of ponies, it meant there could be other ponies out there who would find him familiar, even if they had never actually seen him.

The thoughts of Baldwin had reminded Mort how fun the elderly stallion had been, for the short time he knew him. One of the first things he did was to simply run up and down a flight of stairs, shouting that the construction had no hold over him anymore. Baldwin’s own father, Ambrosia, had done something similar, doing a lap around his hometown like he did when he was younger. He said it was during one of those marathons that he met his future wife, Melba, who herself passed away not long after and just wanted to see the sunrise one more time. It was the same thing their daughter did, after that accident where—

“Mort!”

“Huh, wha?” Mort’s head whipped up, and he saw Twilight staring at him. Several thick books floated beside her. “Oh, sorry. Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” she said, slightly exasperated. “I said it a few times, actually, but you weren’t responding.”

“Oh, sorry,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “I got a little lost in my memories.”

“Does that happen often?”

“Well, no,” he said. “Most of the time I can only think about the places I need to be.”

“Right,” she said. “When you say ‘places’, I suppose you mean cities like Amsterdame?”

Mort blinked, confused by the challenge in the tone. “Yes...?”

Twilight stared at him, long and hard. A frown permeated on her face. “Mort, I need you to stop lying to me.”

“W-what?!” Mort shot up from his sitting position, fear gripping him. “I’m not lying! I really do—”

“Stop,” she said, and Mort found himself complying, as if it were a command from Thanasia herself. “Mort, I don’t know what’s going on, and maybe I’m just missing something completely obvious, but I’ve heard too many things today that I simply can’t ignore.”

“I-I don’t know what you mean,” he said, trying to keep the stutter out of his voice. “If this is about my cloak, I’m sorry, but—”

“It’s not,” she said, laying the books and newspaper on the table. “If it was only your cloak, I’d have no problem. Maybe you really do have a skin condition, or maybe you’re that self-conscious about your appearance. It wouldn’t matter to me either way. At worst it’d just be a quirk, and a harmless one at that.”

“Then what?” he asked, his voice pleading. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, for starters,” she said, picking up one of the books, “there’s the matter of your story from Sugarcube Corner. Remember? About the couple and the fire? You said back then they called the city Amsterdame.”

“They did! I wasn’t...” Mort trailed off, the pieces falling into place. “O-okay, now it isn’t Amsterdame, because they changed it to—”

“Manehatten. I know, you said so yourself, too.” Twilight flipped through one of the books, and Mort felt his heart sink when he saw the title: Manehatten: A Physical History. “But Mort, here’s the thing: they changed their name to Manehatten over a hundred years ago! Yet you were there before that?”

“A-alright, maybe not,” he said, trying to formulate some way to salvage this. “I was desperate, okay? I just wanted something to say at the party, so I told some story I read about.”

“Where?”

“I-I don’t know! A book!”

“I doubt that,” she said, closing the book. “When I was up there, I was looking through all the books I had on Manehatten, as well as any books on disasters in the last two hundred years. I never saw any mention of that fire, and not to be cynical, but that might be because no pony died from it.”

“Alright, fine, you got me! I made it up!” He covered his face, reduced to saying the first thing that came to his mind. He never imagined his stories would be challenged like this, and had no plan to back them up if they were. “I made it all up! I just wanted to tell something romantic, okay? I’m sorry!”

Twilight paused, narrowing her eyes at him. “Except you didn’t make it up.”

Mort gaped at her. “But, you just... I...”

“Did you ever get a good look at the photos inside Applejack’s home, Mort?”

Mort almost got whiplash from the sudden change in topic. “W-what? Why?”

“Because one of them was very interesting,” she said, stepping closer to him. “It was a photo of two ponies—a mare and a stallion—who happened to be Granny Smith’s great-great grandparents. Their names were Sweet Orchid and Apple Seed. Do those names ring any bells?”

Mort clamped his jaw shut, thinking. He was sure he knew the names, especially since he must’ve reaped them at some point already. He just didn’t see what connection they had to...

No. It couldn’t be, but...

“They should,” she continued, “because they were the ponies in your story! The photo was even taken moments after Apple Seed escaped! And the story Granny told me was almost word-for-word what you said! So not only did you relate a story from over a hundred years ago, it was a story that evidently no pony ever jotted down in any book!”

“I... I must have...”

“No, Mort,” she said sternly. “You already said you read it up somewhere, then you said you made it up out of the blue. Just... please.” Twilight sighed, a hint of sadness in her tone. “Please don’t say anything else. I don’t know what to think anymore, and what’s worse is that I’m not even done yet.”

Mort became silent. He found himself devoting more and more effort to keeping himself material, and not vanish completely.

“When you were playing with the others, I came across Sweetie Belle. She let it slip that you didn’t have a cutie mark. I thought that was unusual, but not impossible. It wasn’t until she told me that it was because of a ‘condition’ that I knew something was up. I studied cutie marks a lot when I was under Celestia’s tutelage, Mort, and I have never heard of a condition that prevented a cutie mark from ever appearing. I’ve seen diseases that added cutie marks, even heard rumors of magic that could change them entirely, but disorders that actually prevent them from ever showing up? It just doesn’t exist!”

Mort was starting to shake now. “I... I...”

“And then there’s the animals,” she said. “All ponies share a special relationship with not just nature, but its animals as well. We may not have as much expertise as Fluttershy, but most of the animals implicitly trust us enough to help them out, whether it’s directing the birds to fly south for the winter, or to wake them from hibernation in time for spring. That said, it’s just not normal that every single one of them would act so violently around you! I could’ve chalked it up to Angel being himself, but it wasn’t until I talked to Fluttershy and saw Winona that I realized that they’re absolutely terrified of you! Like they know something we don’t. And after some of the things I’ve seen and heard, maybe... maybe they’re onto something...”

Mort’s mind raced to find some way—any way—out of this, but nothing was coming to mind. If he ran, that would only prove his guilt. If he stayed, he’d still have no way to defend himself. If something miraculously drew her attention away, he doubted it would be for very long: Twilight was now on a mission to find out what was going on with him.

He was certain she was going to find out, and when she did...

“I-I’m not a bad pony,” he said quietly. “Please. Please believe me, I’m not a bad pony. I’m really not. I-I just can’t tell... you have to understand... I’m sorry, I...”

It all sounded so weak, so empty. He had no way to get out of this. Twilight’s expression was hard. Her forehead was creased in thought, and her eyes were staring at him with an intensity not unlike that of Thanasia.

He was so focused on her, he didn’t notice the small, feathery form above.

Twilight felt sick. In the back of her mind, she had been hoping that there was just some kind of misunderstanding between them, but everything was starting to point toward her suspicions being correct. There was far more to Mort than he had let on, and she wasn’t liking the implications. She entertained the notion of Mort being an immortal like Celestia and Luna, but then it wouldn’t explain why the princesses had never so much as mentioned him. This implied, of course, that the letter sent to her was even legitimate. They were supposed to be impossible to forge, but Mort was somepony who could create magical blades that were thinner than any she had ever seen. If he was hiding facts about himself, he could just as easily be hiding facts about his magical prowess and expertise.

She had hoped that the longer this went on, the more she would feel some sort of catharsis, that the hurt she felt would be washed away by the fact she’d been right. That wasn’t happening. She had imagined Mort getting angrier, more belligerent with every accusation, and that would’ve made this a little easier, but instead he sounded more hurt as time went on. It made her stern facade all that harder to maintain. She wanted to believe he was hurting, and still hoped that this was still just a misunderstanding, but the chances of that were getting slimmer and slimmer.

Then there was what Applejack told her. Mort had acted as if he knew Baldwin, and Granny had thought she recognized Mort from Las Pegasus... where Baldwin had died. The implications were disturbing, but she wasn’t going to accuse Mort of murder or anything like that. For all the shiftiness he’s shown so far, she found it hard to believe he was capable of violence. For the time being, she would keep that information to herself. She only hoped it was a freak coincidence.

“I want to trust you, Mort,” she said, being completely honest, “but I can’t do that unless you trust me, too. So please, no more misdirections, no more evasions, just... tell me what’s going on.”

Mort slowly looked up at her. He was smiling for some reason, but it didn’t feel like a real smile. Not anymore. Now it felt more like a mask that he was wearing.

Skull mask. Again, Derpy’s words floated through her thoughts, and she involuntarily shuddered.

Mort sniffed, sounding to be on the verge of breaking down. “Alright,” he whispered. “Alright. I’ll... I’ll tell you. Just... please don’t be upset.”

Twilight swallowed, bracing herself for anything. “I can’t promise that, but I’ll try.”

Mort nodded, taking a deep breath. “Okay,” he said, “the truth is, I—”

She didn’t know if he said anything else, because by then the air was filled by an ear-splitting screech that drowned out everything else. Frightened, she whipped her head around and was shocked to see it where it came from.

Owlowiscious was hunched over on the stairs, his feathers puffed out and his wings spread wide, making him look twice his normal size. He screeched again, and for a moment Twilight felt frightened. She had never heard such an ugly sound coming from him, nor had he ever looked so predatory as he did now. She already knew why that was.

Owlowiscious took to the air and dived at Mort, talons first. The cloaked pony shouted as the owl attempted to claw at his face, his wings beating rapidly and sending feathers everywhere.

“Owlowiscious, no!” Twilight grabbed the horned owl and pulled him away. He struggled in her grasp, screeching desperately. It reminded her so much of how Angel acted when Mort got close to him. “Stop that! Calm down!”

She brought him down until he was level with her. Owlowiscious’ screeching died down, and was replaced by his more familiar hooting. He gestured at Mort, and seemed to be trying to communicate something to Twilight, but she had no idea what it might be.

She was so intent on Owlowiscious, she almost didn’t notice what the owl now had looped around his feet. Mort’s necklace hung from one of his talons, and she grabbed it with her magic before it fell.

She looked over at Mort, seeing him hunched over, covering his face with a hoof. Any sort of anger or suspicion she felt drained away in an instant. She could always get them back if she needed them, but now she didn’t. The important thing now was to make sure Mort still had both eyes.

“Mort, are you okay?” She looked at the ground below, and was relieved to see that there wasn’t any blood. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“I-I’m fine,” he said, his voice shaky. “Um, could I have my necklace back, please? I think he might’ve taken it.”

“He did, just...” Twilight trailed off, as a memory came back to her. One of Mort losing his necklace back at the boutique. When Rarity had walked in, and screamed at something she saw. Something she couldn’t recall.

Mort was still covering his face. He hadn’t yet pulled it away, or looked at a mirror, or even looked at her. An idea occurred to Twilight. It was silly, but...

“Mort, could I have a look at you?”

“Sure thing,” he said, without changing his position. “Just pass it over here, please.”

Twilight didn’t reply at first. She barely noticed the owl she still held, or the library around her. She only stared at Mort, vaguely aware that something had changed. Mort still had the cloak wrapped around him, but he looked... different, somehow.

“Twilight...?” She ignored him, her eyes traveling up and seeing his horn. She had known that it was unusual in some way, but thinking back now, she hadn’t known why, exactly. Now, she could see that it was curved, and very sharp. Hadn’t Spike said it was curved? How had he seen it, but not her?

She lifted the necklace in front of her, focusing on the medallion. She rotated it, noting how it felt to hold it with her magic. She hadn’t noticed before, because of how briefly she held it before, but wrapped around the metal of the medallion, she could just barely sense a static sensation. The sort of sensation from magic acting on magic.

The medallion was enchanted.

“Mort, look at me,” she said, her voice hard.

Mort stiffened. “O-okay, but could I—”

“Look at me, Mort.” This was it. She knew it. She was going to get an explanation for all the weirdness that had been happening today. It all started with him looking at her.

Slowly, Mort dropped his hoof, and began to turn to her. From nowhere, Twilight suddenly felt a deep foreboding. She could feel her heart start to pound, as if about to be seized by some immense panic. It was almost like when Mort had stepped into the library the very first time. No, it was exactly like that.

After what seemed like an eternity, Mort was now facing her. Immediately, she knew something was wrong. His face seemed so much paler, so much thinner, and his eyes were so sunken she almost couldn’t see them.

No, that was wrong... she really couldn't see his eyes at all. Only red dots that looked out from the shadows of his hood.

Her magic reached out, grabbing the edges of his hood. Her body was almost rejecting the action, and everything she felt told her to run. She hadn't felt this way when she confronted Nightmare Moon, or Queen Chrysalis, or even Discord, and deep down that terrified her. She knew they had been dangerous, but it wasn’t like this. Those times she had her magic, her friends, her family, her mentor, the Elements of Harmony... she always had something to rely on.

None of that would have mattered here. This wasn't danger. This was inevitability.

She pulled the hood back.

Her magic faltered. The necklace dropped, and Owlowiscious flew free, hovering next to her.

A skull—not a skull mask, but a skull—was looking at her. And attached to it was a spine that went down into the cloak, and around the collar she could see a hint of a rib cage.

Inexplicably, it cleared its throat.

“Please don’t scream,” Mort’s voice said.

She did.

Author's Note

Special thanks to Pilate, Chuckle5 and Admiral Biscuit for editing assistance!

(Don't) Fear the Reaper

In one instant, Twilight Sparkle’s day had transformed into one of her horror stories.

Her scream echoed inside the library. Everything had gone into overdrive: respiration, heart rate, adrenaline, and even her magic. Her horn was itching to lash out at something.

More specifically, it was wanting to lash out at the thing in front of her.

“Don’t scream!” Mort pleaded. It pleaded. “Don’t scream! Please, don’t scream! Just calm down! Everything’s okay!”

She stopped, but only because she had to catch her breath, and not because everything was okay. No, everything was not okay. There was an animated skeleton speaking to her now, where once before there was just another pony. A pony she had spent time with, had laughed with, had eaten ice cream with. When had everything gone so wrong?

“Everything’s fine,” the walking skeleton said, motioning its bony hooves at her. Its fleshless skull grinned at her, its jaws never once parting when it spoke. “Everything’s fine. Okay? You don’t need to panic.”

She stared into the red dots that occupied its eye sockets. They glowed faintly in a darkness that seemed to go on forever.

The library had always been a sort of sanctuary. A home away from home, even before she started living in one. It was a safe place, but not anymore. It had been breached, and what was once cozy now felt suffocating. She couldn’t be far enough away. She felt like she was in a tomb.

She bolted for the door.

“Wait!” The skeleton beat her to it, flying down from above and forcing Twilight to skid to a halt. For just a moment she saw skeletal wings being sucked into the cloak as if it were more liquid than fabric.

“Listen,” it said, a hint of desperation in its voice. “I-I know this kind of shocking—”

“Kind of shocking?” she repeated, incredulous. “Kind of shocking?”

It hesitated. “Okay, maybe not the best choice of words.” It took a step towards her, one hoof reaching out. “If you just let me explain—”

“D-don’t come any closer!” she said, hating how her voice broke. She thought of the shield spell her brother had taught her and cast it, encasing Mort in a magenta bubble. The perturbed way he looked at it gave her hope, but then it was dashed when he simply stepped through the bubble, as if it wasn’t even there. The shock of it made her lose focus, and the bubble vanished. She retreated a few steps, aware she was running out of room.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” it said, its tone gentle. Sounding gentle, she reminded herself. “I meant what I said before, okay? I’m not a bad pony!”

“Oh, sure! You’re not a bad pony,” she spat sarcastically. “You’re just not a pony PERIOD!”

She could barely remember the last time she had felt like this. She felt cold, short of breath, and her heart was threatening to tear itself free. It reminded her of her first trip into the Everfree forest, and how she ended up falling off a cliff. She had been caught by her friends, but those few seconds in free fall had been some of the most terrifying seconds of her life. She had felt absolutely certain that she was going to die. Right now, it felt like that horrifying moment, stretched out seemingly forever, and any second now she was going to hit rock bottom.

“What are you?” she demanded. “Are you a changeling? A golem? A familiar? Is ‘Mort’ even your real name?”

“Yes!” it said, frantically waving its hoof at her. “My name’s really Mort! I didn’t lie to you about that!”

She strongly felt there was misplaced pride in that statement. “Oh, but you lied about some other things, didn’t you?”

“Yes—uh, no! I mean...” Mort tapped its—his?—hooves together, looking away from her. “O-okay, I didn’t tell the whole truth, but—”

“And that’s supposed to better?!”

He flinched, as if struck. “You don’t have to be so mean about it.”

“Mean? You think I’m being mean about this?” The words had come out hot and sharp, a cocktail of her fear, anger and confusion. “I thought we were hanging out with just another pony, and not an animated skeleton who was using magic to fool us this entire time! Maybe you don’t remember, but the last time something like this happened, the one fooling us was Queen Chrysalis, who imprisoned my foalsitter, brainwashed my brother, cocooned the princess, attacked my friends, and was trying to take over the entire KINGDOM! So excuse me if I’m a little upset!”

Twilight hunched over, gasping for air. In spite of everything, that had actually felt good. Being able to shout down something you feared felt empowering, even if that power was ultimately imaginary. It felt better than cowering, at any rate.

Mort simply stared at her quietly, seemingly at a loss for words. If he had a face, she could at least infer what he was feeling, but all she had to go on were the eyes. A second later she didn’t even have that as he looked down at the floor, the hood obscuring everything. The silence dragged on longer and longer, and Twilight wasn’t sure what he’d do next. She imagined cackling, bellowing, hissing...

“You’re right.”

Of all the things she imagined happening, that wasn’t one of them. After a brief double take, she said, “What?”

“You’re right,” he said quietly. “We... I should’ve known how it’d look to you. I didn’t even think...” He looked up, and his red dots seemed to flatten out in the northern regions. To Twilight, they almost looked mournful. “I’m so sorry, Twilight…”

Twilight bit her lip, feeling the one thing she really didn’t want to right now: doubt. He looked sad, even sounded sad. It tugged at her heartstrings, but she reminded herself that Queen Chrysalis could do the same thing. Imitating emotions wasn’t as hard as it should be.

Except Chrysalis had been a good actor when she needed to be. When Twilight confronted her, the changeling queen had played the part of distressed damsel perfectly, creating fake tears and heartfelt cries. Whenever Mort was confronted about his appearance, he stammered and acted evasive, and never seemed to have a solid answer. If that was him trying to lie, then he was absolutely terrible at it.

But when he didn’t do that, and the words just flowed out of him without a second thought, he sounded like one of the most sensitive ponies she had ever met. His guilt over this morning was palpable, and the way he enjoyed their company seemed sincere. Not even Queen Chyrsalis could hide her true nature for longer than a single meeting.

Could this still just be a misunderstanding? Was it weird that she found herself hoping that it still was?

“What are you, Mort?” she asked. “Tell me the truth.”

“I’m…” He seemed to swallow, which confused her. He didn’t have a throat, did he? Was he just mimicking the motion? “W-well, Twilight, I’m…”

And that’s when she spotted Owlowiscious perched inside one of the book shelves behind him, glaring at the cloaked skeleton. For an instant, Twilight was ashamed that she had almost forgotten about him, but that quickly turned to fear when she saw his pose. She had seen it every time Owlowiscious had spotted prey when they went out. It came right before the dive.

“Don’t do it!”

Mort stopped. “Don’t do what?”

“Get out of here!”

“But I haven’t even told—” Too late did Mort realize she was looking behind him, and when he turned, there was an earsplitting shriek as Owlowiscious launched himself from the shelves and divebombed Mort.

“Owlowiscious, no!” Later, when looking back, Twilight would think she overreacted. She didn’t know much then, but she did know that Mort could lift and rearrange furniture like it was nothing, and had a scythe that could cut through wood as if it were paper. That power would have been more than enough to maim or kill a pony, to say nothing of a small owl. With every beat of Owlowiscious’ wings, Twilight feared the next moment would see them crushed into a feathery pulp, or sliced away completely.

She thought she had seen Mort’s horn glow. Maybe the sun had reflected off of it, or maybe she had just imagined it. It didn’t matter if it was a trick of the light or a trick of the mind. What did matter was what happened next.

With Owlowiscious’ survival being her new priority, Twilight’s mind went into overdrive. Golem, changeling, it didn’t matter. Some kind of magic had to be in play here. A skeleton couldn’t support itself on its own, meaning one way or another, Mort was enchanted. And enchanted creatures didn’t take well to their magic being disrupted.

She thought of a disruption spell, just like the one used to remove the glamour on Changelings, and fired a beam of magic at Mort. Her fear of it passing through proved unfounded when it struck his horn. Owlowiscious had probably distracted him too much. Now he should be stunned and his magic should—

Before she could finish her thought, there was a brilliant display of green and purple light, scaring away Owlowiscious and causing the skeleton to shout in shock. He caught himself before he fell, and stood unsteadily.

“Oh, this is weird,” he said, his eyes rolling around his skull. “This is very, very weird!”

Twilight didn’t know what was going on. The spell wasn’t meant to do this. Rings of green and purple magic began to orbit the skeleton, floating up and down the height of its body.

The glow from Mort’s horn began to glow brighter and brighter, magical energy crackling all around it. Suddenly, faster than Twilight could blink, a green pulse traveled down the beam Twilight had fired, the green and purple magic mixing and creating a color Twilight had never seen before.

When it reached her horn, she cried out as needles jammed themselves into her brain. Just like Mort, her horn began to crackle, and the straight beam began arch and twist like a fork of lightning. She tugged at it, and the tether of magic offered resistance, while at the same time pulling Mort.

The spell she used wasn’t supposed to do this, and when spells stop acting the way they should, it was a sign to stop. She closed her eyes, flipping an internal switch to stop the spell… and saw it was still going when she opened her eyes. She tried again, but nothing she did was making it disappear. It was as if the spell had a mind of its own.

“What did you do?” she demanded, glaring at Mort.

“Most magic doesn’t agree with me,” he answered, tugging at it himself. “It always results in stuff like this or rainbow afros!”

Twilight wasn’t even going to touch the last part. “Well stop it already!”

“Well, that’s just it...”

Twilight stumbled and almost fell from the pullback. “What?”

“I’m not doing this.”

The dread in his voice told Twilight that, for at least this moment, he was telling the truth. And if neither of them had any control of this, then—

Suddenly, pain lanced through her forehead. Twilight shut her eyes and whimpered, feeling the growing pain in her horn. It felt like she had just dipped it into molten metal, and it was now spreading from the tip of her horn to the base of her skull and beyond. A fire was now raging along the surface of her brain.

The wind began to pick up around them, carrying loose papers and quills, and then entire books started to fly off the shelves. Magic arced and crackled along the beam, causing her hair to rise and filling the air with the smell of ozone.

“Hoo!”

“Owlowiscious?” She opened her eyes and looked straight at him. He was clinging to the pony bust, looking to be barely holding on by the tips of his wings. “Are you...”

The question would be left unfinished. As she stared at her owl, time slowed to a crawl. Owlowiscious’ body became a flicker of images. One moment he was covered in feathers, then he was just muscle, than a skeleton and nervous system, then he was just a splotch of red and yellow colors.

He breathed in, and Twilight saw the gases get inhaled by his lungs, absorbed and transformed by his cells, then carried out through his body. Then he hooted, and it sounded loud and drawn out. She saw the air itself vibrating as sound was made, saw the tiny amount of heat that escaped his body, as well as the swarms of bacteria in his spittle. Her eyes drifted down, seeing his lungs inflate, and below that she saw what used to be a rat in his digestive tract—

She screamed and clenched her eyes shut again, trying desperately to keep down her lunch.

“What is it?” Mort asked. “What’s wrong?”

“I-I don’t know,” she said, once she was sure the bile was kept down. She could feel the vibrations from her voice reflecting inside the library, creating a fuzzy image in her mind. She could smell the wood, the books, and even Owlowiscious, almost giving the image color.

Slowly, she opened her eyes. The first thing she noticed was that time had returned to normal, but that was the only thing that had. Her library was now a collage of strange, alien colors that spread out from thin air in waves. She saw streaks of light zipping by her and reflecting off everything it touched. She saw heat and smell and sound and she could see the very cells that made up the tree that was her library. She risked a glimpse of her leg, and saw the arteries flow with blood and heard the nerves humming so, so softly. It was like some obscene cross section from her medical texts.

Twilight looked off in one direction, and gasped as the walls suddenly evaporated, revealing the outside. She saw a building across the street, and watched its walls vanish, revealing a pony inside who was washing her dishes. Then Twilight saw through her and…

She cried out, losing her balance. Mort caught her, and Twilight felt the enormous amount of magic brimming within him. Magic that was different from anything else she had encountered, all springing from some near-infinite well.

“Twilight, what’s wrong?” She lifted her head, and was then face-to-face with Mort. For a moment he looked like a skull in a hood, but then in the next moment she watched the bone vanish, to be replaced by something that was merely skull shaped. Green light zipped everywhere inside him, almost making him look like a piece of night sky. Mort was pure magic.

“What’s wrong?” he repeated, a solid structure within him vibrating the air to produce sound. So he wasn’t a changeling or a golem. He was something else entirely.

She gently pushed him away, and stood unsteadily on her hooves. “W-what’s happening to me?” she asked. “I’m seeing… I’m seeing everything.”

She saw the light within Mort fluctuate rapidly, and it made her think “anxiety” for some reason.

“Twilight, what kind of magic did you use?” he asked.

“Dispelling magic,” she answered. “Why?”

“I think—” He ducked, avoiding a copy of Dante’s Lunacy. “I think you’ve connected yourself to me! You’re seeing everything I’m seeing!”

“Seeing what...” She looked around, struggling to keep everything straight. “You see this all the time?”

“Well, more or less…”

She tried closing her eyes again, but it wasn’t helping anymore because she was looking through her eyelids. In fact, she was somehow looking all around her without moving her head at all. She couldn’t look at anything without some citation going off in her head. The Sun is Also Raised was spotted flying off the shelf, and that was followed by its weight, dimensions, the number of pages, the word count, the composition of the paper, the chemical makeup of the glue…

She screamed, and with dread realized that the world was becoming more and more fragmented, because now she was seeing the atoms and particles that made up everything, rotating and vibrating, and looking more and more like those “magic eye” pictures she had seen so many times as a foal.

“What in Equestria are you?” she demanded. “Why would you need to see all this?”

“I-I need to!” he said. “I’m sorry, but it’s the only way my job can work!”

“What job?!”

“It’s, uh… it’s complicated.”

She growled in frustration. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could take this. Everything was trying to force its way into her brain, filling it to the point that it might actually burst. Trying to listen to a thousand ponies, screaming at the top of their lungs, would have been easier than this.

And then Owlowiscious went flying, his body tumbling in the air, threatening to collide with the airborne books. They may have just been books, but birds weren’t known for strong skeletons. He was going to be turned into a feathery pulp at this rate, if the windows didn’t break him first.

“Owlowiscious, hang on!” She aimed her horn at him, trying to grab him, but the magic seemed stuck. Something seemed to be holding it back, and the harder she pushed, the more pain she felt.

Mort raised his hoof. “Wait, don’t do it!”

She ignored him. At that moment a gust caught Owlowiscious, changing his direction and sending him towards a wall. Time once again slowed, and she was assaulted by his speed, trajectory, the threshold of his bones, the force from his impact, and all together that added up to—

“No!” With a final burst of strength, her magic finally pushed through, and Owlowiscious became wrapped in a bubble moments before impact. He bounced around the room, barely missing Mort and Twilight. She watched him carefully, the calculations running through her head at lightening speed, and then turned to the door. She cast one last spell, forcing the door open just as Owlowiscious bounced towards it. The magenta bubble flew out of the library, away from harm.

Twilight relaxed, the door slamming shut from the winds. She turned to glare at Mort, who seemed suddenly apprehensive.

“Don’t you ever tell me what… not…?”

Maybe it was her imagination, but everything looked to be going white. She was confused at first, frightened even, but a second later she knew: the act of casting the spell had thrown the doors wide open to her mind, just like it did all those years ago when she hatched Spike. But unlike that time when her mind was being opened to what could be, now her mind was being opened to what was. Instead of just being shown the tools and materials, now she was being shown the blueprints of existence.

She knew this because that’s what the universe was telling her. She thought she was seeing everything a minute ago, but all of that was just scratching the surface. Footnotes at best. It was nothing compared to this.

“Twilight?”

She stared into the universe, and the universe stared back. Quantum mechanics became foal’s play and magical theory looked sorely incomplete as secret after secret was revealed and shown to be in plain sight all along.

“Twilight!”

It showed her how gravity really worked and how the fundamental forces could be unified and why observation changes an outcome and that you really could determine both the position and velocity of an electron by just—

“Twilight, say something! Twilight!”

It was scary and overwhelming but more than anything it was beautiful so beautiful how everything was connected and if everypony knew this then there would never be any sorrow or evil and even if it was so painful and made her head want to burst she never wanted it to en—

“Oh Thanasia, forgive me! I don’t have a choice!”

Something cold wrapped around her shoulders, and for a brief moment Twilight became aware of somepony holding her. Mort was looking deep into her eyes, his bony hooves on her shoulders. Some nagging thought told her she should be afraid, but she couldn’t see why. He was just another piece of the universe, and such an important piece, too.

His eyes closed in concentration, and she watched the magic inside him fluctuate as a part of it came out the side of his horn, eventually forming the scythe. The simple appearance belied the intricacy hidden within, and the power it held. So that’s how he did. It was so obvious, but then again everything was now.

She was engrossed with it up to when he raised it in the air. It was then that she became aware of her situation again, and realized he was aiming it at her.

“On three,” he said.

Suddenly that terrified voice in the back of her mind became thunderous. “M-Mort? What—”

“One, two—”

“Mort, no!”

“—-three!”

The scythe swung through the white light, and what followed was a crack of thunder. In that instant the world seemed to collapse underneath Twilight. She looked up to see the ceiling, and saw it fly away with her walls, Mort, the books, and… herself? She reached out desperately, but it was already out of reach. She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. It all flew further and further away, looking like a dying star in the night sky.

Then it vanished, and there was only darkness.

With a sound akin to thunder, the link snapped. Books, scrolls and papers rained down, covering every square inch of the floor, and a cloud of dust rose up.

Twilight Sparkle’s eyes fluttered, then rolled into the back of her head before her entire body went limp in Mort’s forelegs.

“Twilight! Twilight!” He shook her, but got no response. “Oh, no. Oh Thanasia, please no!”

His horn glowed, scattering books away from him to make room on the floor. He laid Twilight down gently, and stared at her in terror. Was her chest moving, or was that his imagination?

He focused, and instantly layers of Twilight’s body peeled away, revealing her internal organs and arteries. He watched expectantly, trying to capture every detail. The heart was beating, the lungs were inflating, the blood was flowing, the nervous signals seemed to be zipping along just fine…

Calm down, that’s what he told himself. Calm down. There was no external or internal damage. The body was going through the motions like nothing happened. The heart’s beating fast, but it was stabilizing. Same with her breathing. She was alive.

But what about the place where all the trouble was? What about her brain?

He moved up, watching skin and bone vanished to reveal the most important organ of all. He often wished nature had implemented more redundancy in ponies, like it attempted with the lungs and kidneys. It was a marvel of nature, to be sure, but placing one organ in charge of all memories, hormone secretion and muscle control seemed short sighted. He’d seen too many ponies die just from hitting their head the wrong way. Nowhere else could such a small injury translate into such massive damage.

He took much longer examining her brain. Synapses seemed good, signals were moving from her brain to the spinal cord with no issues, and there was no internal bleeding or even bruising. Still, brain activity seemed minimal, and the regions that controlled her movements and speech were obviously trying, but their efforts bore no fruit. At this point he came close to panicking: there was zero brain damage of any kind, and there was just no real reason for her comatose state. So why…?

There. Her horn. It was still brimming with magical activity, and it seemed to correlate with her brain. Whenever her speech centers sparked, something flickered in her horn. He stared at it, focusing on the senses and data that should tell him the most. What was the magic doing? Why?

Wait. Earlier she had somehow reconnected the link between them with that magic of hers. Usually that link went to Thanasia and the collective unconsciousness, transmitting all the data he collected for the prophecies. When Twilight restored it, all of it ended up going straight to her. What was just a sensory overload became much worse when she used her magic and provided a direct line to her brain. She could have been rendered a vegetable, or the way her horn was glowing, she might have even burst into flames.

Or maybe she would have transcended existence and become something like Discord. Her magic and his insight might have lead to some horrific results. Granted, that had been a slim possibility, but near the end the light that emanated from her body looked remarkably like a pair of wings.

In any case, he’d had no choice but to sever their connection by force, but that should’ve been the end of it. With the link gone, she should have returned to normal, if a little dazed and trying to make sense of the new numbers and equations she had learned. Seeing as how that didn’t happen, though, what else did it mean?

Looking at her horn, he focused and…

“Oh Thanasia.” There it was: a link just like before, going to the right place this time. If only it were coming from the right creature.

Twilight now had her own link to the collective unconscious, which was why she wasn’t responding to anything. Her consciousness was currently dwelling elsewhere. It was just like when he or another shade visited, leaving the physical body while the mind travelled.

Cutting it could create a rubber band effect and send Twilight’s consciousness back, or it might strand her there for an eternity while her body continued to exist in a borderline brain-dead state. There was no precedent for this. Non-shades had never been to the collective unconsciousness. It was supposed to be impossible for non-shades to even get there in the first place! If Thanasia found out...

One step at a time. He’d worry about punishments later. His top priority should be to find Twilight and make sure she was safe. If she was in the collective unconsciousness, then chances were she was having a prolonged experience with none of her typical senses, in a place with none of the typical laws.

He concentrated, trying to enter the collective unconsciousness as always, but continued to find himself in the same place. Evidently whatever happened had only connected Twilight; Mort himself was still cut off. Typical.

He looked at Twilight, thinking of how he could go about this. His eyes focused on her horn, still faintly glowing. An idea began to form in his head. One that wasn’t without risks.

He quickly rushed towards the door and cracked it open, looking out. He was looking for… there. Owlowiscious rested upside down at the roots of a tree, the bubble that had protected him long popped. The owl gradually righted himself, and waddled on the ground unsteadily. Finally their eyes met, and Mort was unsurprised at the level of animosity there was. Still not as bad as Gummy, though.

Owlowiscious wasted little time in taking to the air, and Mort shut the door before hurrying back to Twilight. He might only have a few minutes before somepony showed up. He hoped it would be enough time; a minute out here should be much longer within the collective unconsciousness. That should be enough time to find Twilight, explain what happened, and bring her back.

He positioned her to be leaning next to him, and brought his horn close to hers. He should be able to piggyback on her connection and appear wherever she was. He could then lead her back to her body, and safely severe the connection without any risk to her. After that…

Well, he didn’t know what would happen. A lot of words, probably angry words, would be said. But having Twilight upset with him was the least of his problems. He touched his horn to hers, and watched the world fade away.

“I’m coming,” he said, as the void rushed to greet him.

Darkness. That’s all there was.

Twilight had seen it all. She had literally seen it all just now. All her life she had seen the face of the world, watching its hands click and turn, over and over. She could see it happening, but she hadn’t known why. For several, beautiful moments, the face had been pulled away, and she had seen the interlocked gears underneath. She saw how they fit and moved with each other, and though the machinations were incredibly complex, at the same time they seemed intuitive and obvious. For the first time in her life, everything had made sense.

Then something stole it all away, along with the entire world.

She tried to recall how the world looked, how the world worked, but the face had been slammed shut. She tried to envision the colors she saw, but found it impossible. The best she could do was use the colors she did know, and they were a pale imitation. She tried to recall the numbers and equations that had moved through her head, and only got fuzzy images. The beauty was gone. What remained was murky slush.

She slowly stood up. All around her there was only an inky void, empty of light and sound. She was a lavender drop in a sea of nothing.

There was no sign of Mort. She was all by herself here. She closed her eyes and focused on her horn, but she could feel no magic. Not even a spark.

“Hello?” she called out. “Is anypony there?”

Her voice was swallowed up by the void. There wasn’t even an echo.

“Mort?” She waited for a response, but heard nothing. “Mort, what happened? Where are you? Mort!”

Nothing. She waited, but there was no response. No skull. No red eyes.

“Mort, this isn’t funny anymore!” She spun around, listening for anything. “What did you do?”

There was no answer. The moment stretched longer and longer, and Twilight felt a growing anxiety gnawing away at her. What had happened? What brought her here?

She soon heard herself hyperventilating, and took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself. She couldn’t panic. Panic was the last thing she needed.

“Okay, Twilight, stay calm,” she told herself, in a voice that was not too convincing. “You just need to find a way out of here. No biggie. It’s not like you’re stranded in the Everfree Forest or anything, right?”

Right, except even in the Everfree Forest she could determine which way to go to get out. And while there weren’t any monsters or carnivorous plants, the abyss she found herself in was terrifying in its own way. She couldn’t stop wondering if she really was alone, or if there were things out there that she couldn’t see. For all she knew, the sense of distance was imaginary, and she was someplace no bigger than a closet. It was rare for a place to play on somepony’s claustrophobia and agoraphobia at the same time.

Still, it was at least possible to test how much space she had. With literally nothing supporting her, she took a cautious step forward, half-expecting to plummet into infinity. Her hoof came down, stopping at the same level as the rest of her hooves. It wasn’t pushing against anything, it just... stopped.

It took her a few more slow steps to be certain that she wasn’t going to be falling anytime soon, and she started to trot. Each step was like walking on thin air, but something had to be supporting her, or allowing her to move forward.

This went on for what felt like several minutes. The entire time Twilight felt no sense of movement, other than the fact her legs were doing the motion for it. She may have been running in place and never realized it. What kind of place was this, anyway? Did Mort have anything to do with this?

Mort… she felt her temper flare recalling him. He’d been lying to everypony from the start! All those stories he had told were probably made up. She wouldn’t even be surprised if the letter Spike received was a fake as well. It would have been difficult to hijack the connection between Spike and the princesses, but not impossible.

She should’ve trusted Spike. She was going give him the biggest, hardest gems she could find when she got back. Maybe throw some ice cream in there too.

That left her to wonder what Mort was, or where he came from. He never said either. What had he looked like in the library? She could’ve sworn she saw something, but when she thought back, all she could think was that Mort was pure magic. Which still didn’t make sense, because even the most magical creatures had some sort of biology to them. She’d never seen sapient magic.

She tried to recall anything else about him, but that was all she could remember. Things got hazy after Owlowiscious escaped. Things were going white, and all of a sudden she was here. She was sure something else had happened in between, but she couldn’t figure out what.

She let out a short, angry bellow. Darn him! Darn him to Tartaurus and back! What did he want? Why did he come here? Where was he, and what had he—

Her internal tirade was cut short when, looking ahead, she saw a green lights that seemed to flicker and wave, reminding her of fire. She was stunned still for a moment, then quickly galloped towards it, elated to see it was getting closer. At last, something that made sense! She got closer and closer…

Her elation turned into confusion when she finally reached them. The green flames were overhead, coming out of metal bowls that were attached to wooden posts, which hung from stone tiles floating overhead. It looked less like a chandelier and more like an upside down torch. She had trouble making sense of it; why would there be a ceiling but not a floor?

Unless… she had briefly wondered about the state of dimensions here. She had been pushing off on nothing, after all, and since it was nothing all around, that could mean the idea of XYZ motion was nebulous. So what if she got mixed up without realizing it, and the ceiling was actually the flo—

She fell up, and only had enough time to gasp before landing hard on the “ceiling”. Evidently wherever she was operated at least partially on what she thought, which would’ve been nice to know before the faceplant.

Picking herself up, Twilight made sure both hooves were firmly on the stone tiles before looking around. The tiled floor extended as far as she could see, lit by torches that were spaced out just enough to provide the bare minimum of light. While the sight of actual objects was a welcome change, it still made her feel unsettled. Something had to have made this, but now she had to worry if that “something” was friendly.

She began to walk again, reasoning that there had to be more to this place. Perhaps there was a staircase or central area, something that would at least imply a purpose. She looked at the tiles to make sure she was still walking on them, then noticed something she hadn’t before. The tiles, with no two exactly alike in size or shape, all had something carved into them. She saw vultures, tigers, sheep, toads, salmon, timberwolves, and many more that only Fluttershy could have identified.

So that had to mean something, right? There was an air of sacredness to it all, like some ancient temple out of Daring Do, but she couldn’t place the time or style of it.

If this was a temple, then what was ahead of her was certainly the altar; an enormous pillar was coming into view, easily large enough to fit her library inside, and taller than anything in Ponyville. The lighting was such that it cast no shadows over the floor, potentially giving anyone at the top unfettered sight to those below.

A sudden chill sprang up, starting from her hooves and going all the way to the tip of her horn. Looking down, she saw a stone tile that was just large enough to hold her. Carved into it was a picture of an earth pony, a pegasus, and a unicorn chasing each other in a circle, like it was a game. Sitting between them was an alicorn, her head held high and her wings outstretched, looking to be at peace. This was obviously a tile for ponies, but why…

She looked at the pillar again. There was something unusual about the surface, making it look like it was moving. She squinted her eyes, thinking it was some sort of visual illusion, but gasped when she saw that wasn’t the case. The surface really was changing, and constantly, from the looks of it.

She got closer to the pillar, trying to discern what was going on. It seemed to be covered in carvings like the tiles, but these were gradually rotating upward, while new carvings took their place from below. Foxes hunting rabbits, bears eating fish, spiders crawling towards flies, armed ponies confronting unarmed ponies...

What was all this? She brushed a hoof across the image of an eagle holding—

—across the sun, basking in the warm sunlight. It had just finished eating, and was going back home to rest and digest its meal. It had been the second day since it started looking for a mate, but so far had had little luck. It was not worried. There were many potential mates in the area, but fewer suitors. One way or another, it was guaranteed a mate. It was just a matter of time.

Or it would have. Too late it noticed the shadow growing larger beneath it, and by the time it did it was already flying away from the earth, hanging in the talons of a flyer. It twisted and tried to bite its abductor, but then the beak shot down and then there was—

—a snake.

Twilight gasped and pulled her hoof away from the pillar as if it were molten rock. She held a hoof up to her head to steady herself, making sure she was actually here.

“W-what in Equestria?” Was that just her imagination, or… no, she could’ve sworn she was actually there. She could remember the heat, the smells, the way the radiation reflected off…

Radiation?

She looked up at the pillar. The carving was slowly traversing upward, now out of reach. Twilight found herself reaching for it again, and before she could stop herself she touch a carving of a gazelle and—

—it looked right and left, watching the tall grass for any sign of movement. When it was satisfied that no predators were lying in wait, it bent its head down and began to drink from the watering hole.

It told itself it just needed a few sips, but it was so thirsty, and it had already seen there was no danger. Its eyes looked out across the water, and focused on a log that was drifting closer to it. Odd, it wondered why it had those orbs in the middle of—

—an alligator.

Twilight clenched her teeth. Again, she felt the sensation that she was actually there, if only as a bystander. And again, she knew and felt things she couldn’t have. Not as a pony, at any rate.

It was just like the library. After she used that spell, she was looking at the world in a way that should’ve been impossible. Anything that could have been measured was visible to her, even things ponies didn’t have a name for yet.

The carving moved up, and Twilight’s eyes danced across the pillar. She had a sinking feeling that she knew what this was. The visions, these images, they all had one thing in common. She spotted a carving that looked like a dog curled up in its bed. She reached for it, but at the last moment misjudged the distance and touched the—

—avalanche had started.

The earth pony nudged his mountain goat companion, trying to get him to move, but the fall had shattered bone and sent the fragments deep into its organs. The bleeding was grievous and lethal, and death would soon follow, even without the cascade of snow, ice and rock coming their way.

It stood by patiently, briefly wondering where she was, and then wondered no more as she flew down from above, landing next to the pony as he tried to drag his companion to nonexistent safety.

The alicorn, her mane almost as white as the snow that blew past, watched them detachedly with yellow eyes as their doom approached. The pony strained and slipped, his head passing through her gray coat like she wasn’t there. The pony gasped, but not from the fall.

The final seconds approached, and as the white wall bore down on the two creatures, the alicorn closed her eyes, a green scythe forming above her head. It decided to ready itself as well, and felt the magic enter its simple horns for the final nudge.

At last it hit, and with exact precision the two of them struck—

—the pony and goat.

Twilight slowly pulled her hoof back, her lips trembling. That had been a pony. She just watched an innocent pony die in front of her, and she couldn’t do anything. But that wasn’t even the worst of it. That alicorn had formed a scythe that looked exactly like the one Mort used. And she used it the moment that poor stallion…

From the depths of Twilight’s mind, something began to scrabble its way upward. It was a picture she had seen a long time ago, in a book filled with myths and legends. It had a pitiful, emaciated pony, cowering in front of a towering, skeletal alicorn whose cloak barely covered the front-half of its body. Its skeletal wings were stretched out and in its mouth it wielded a giant scythe, with ghastly faces drifting up from the blade like steam. A horn protruded from its skull, curved and sharp like the scythe it wielded.

Mort wasn’t as tall, but he had the wings, he had the horn, he lacked the flesh, and he knew things he shouldn’t know. All those stories, all those mentionings, always having to do with peril or death.

Memories came rushing back to her. Memories of Mort holding her, whispering apologies, before the scythe appeared and—

“No,” she whispered, backing away from pillar. “No, no, no no no no no...”

The rest of it got mangled by choking sobs, and Twilight fell as all her strength left her. She was crying, but couldn’t feel the tears that should’ve been coursing down her cheek. She heaved and choked, but didn’t feel any actual air. She felt the floor insofar that it resisted her, but it didn’t feel like stone or ceramic.

You needed a body for those sorts of sensations, but her body was still in the library. How long would it be before somepony discovered her? It made her sick thinking that it might be Spike. He was too young for something like that.

Spike… she wished so hard she had listened to him. She kept blowing his suspicions off as being complete nonsense, but he was right the entire time. What was going to become of him after this? What would her friends do?

Thinking about them caused Twilight to bury her face in hooves, as more sobs wracked her body, or soul, or whatever it was now. She was never going to see any of them again. She wasn’t going to see Rainbow Dash become a Wonderbolt, never see Rarity become famous, never see the Cutie Mark Crusaders get their cutie marks, never see Spike grow up…

“Why?” she asked. “What did I do to deserve this?”

She hadn’t expected an answer, and it was for that reason that the flash of light behind her made Twilight shoot to her hooves and spin around. Mort stood behind her, standing on the tile with the ponies on it. His back was towards her.

“Twilight?” he called. “Twilight, are you there? If you can hear me, say… oh.”

He turned around and saw her. Twilight flinched, and at the same moment his shoulders slumped. His eyes looked beyond her towards the pillar, then went back to her.

“Are you okay, Twilight?” he asked. “How long have you been waiting here?”

She shook her head. What was going to happen now? Was he going to take her someplace else? Or did something even more awful happen after death?

“Did you touch that pillar?” he asked, pointing at it. She nodded eventually. “What did you see?”

“I-I saw animals, and ponies…” She swallowed, briefly wondering why she would. “I-I saw them dying…”

Upon hearing that, Mort looked downcast. “I’m sorry you saw that,” he said. “I’m sorry about everything.”

She wiped at her eyes, trying to recompose herself. “Is it true? Are you Death or something?”

“No, I’m… I’m as much Death as Celestia is the sun, or Luna is the moon,” he said. “I’ve gotten a lot of titles over the years, like Pale Pony, and Skull Stallion… but at the end of the day my name’s still Mort. That’s who I am.”

Third time’s the charm. “So what are you, then?”

“I’m a shade. I—we are creatures that reap souls from the dead.” He gestured at the tiles around him, and it took Twlight a moment to grasp their purpose. These ‘shades’ were represented by the tiles that surrounded them. There appeared to be thousands of them. Mort, it appeared, was but a small part of an enormous enterprise.

Whether he was the literal Death or just an agent, her worst fears seemed confirmed. “S-so I’m dead, then? Is this the afterlife or something?”

“No,” he said quickly. “This place, where we’re at right now, is called the collective unconsciousness. It’s what every shade is connected to. As for you, right now your body is back in the library, resting. You’re breathing on your own, there’s no brain damage, or even bruises…” He breathed out, sounding relieved. “You’re alive, Twilight.”

“Don’t lie to me,” she said, not willing to get her hopes up just yet. “I saw your scythe. I saw you swinging it at me!”

“Not at you, Twilight. I swung it at the link between us.” His horn glowed, forming a tether of magic similar to the that had been between them, then it vanished. “You were seeing everything I was seeing. That’s too much for any one pony, even you. If I hadn’t, you could’ve been rendered a vegetable, or...” He sighed, sounding ashamed. “You could’ve even died.”

Twilight tried to wrap her mind around this. “You were trying to protect me?”

He nodded.

“But… you’re the Pale Pony. Wouldn’t you want me dead?”

At this his head shot up, and he sounded genuinely horrified. “Why would I want that?”

“Well, because… because of all those times I didn’t die, right?” Now that she said it out loud, it didn’t sound as reasonable as she thought. “Like what happened with the Hydra, or...”

He was already shaking his head. “There’s no cosmic quota I need to meet or anything, Twilight. If a pony avoids dying, they avoid dying. That’s it. We don’t go after them or anything. I was happy that the Hydra didn’t get you! When that bubble popped up and saved you, I was…” He shook his head, sighing wistfully. “I can’t tell you how relieved I was. I think I might have even danced a little bit.”

She stared at him in disbelief. “You were glad I didn’t die?”

“Of course I was! You’re one of the most amazing ponies I’ve ever seen, and...” He stopped, and sighed. “Just because I reap dead ponies doesn’t mean I want them to die all the time. I mean, think about it. Does your brother hope there’s a war just so he can protect Canterlot? Does… does Fluttershy want animals getting hurt just so she can treat them? Do you want Equestria in peril all the time so you can use the Elements of Harmony?”

“Well, of course not…”

“Exactly! My job isn’t to pick ponies at random and kill them. My job is to make sure the soul gets separated from the body once death does occur. That’s what the scythe is for. That’s all it’s for.” He crossed his forelegs, his voice resolute. “I will never, ever use it to harm another living creature. Especially you, Twilight.”

Twilight opened her mouth to argue, then shut it. She didn’t know what to believe. She wanted to believe him because she wanted to be alive, but she couldn’t shake the suspicions she had. It kept coming back to him hiding it all in the first place. At the same time, he was speaking with a confidence she had rarely heard from him today. If this was him lying, why didn’t he lie like this before?

“I don’t know,” she said, holding her head. “I-I just don’t know anymore…”

“I… I guess I can’t fault you for not believing me,” he said, his shoulders slumping. He scratched his head, thinking. Then his eyes widened and he looked at her. “How about this? Put your hoof on your chest.”

“Why?”

“Trust me,” he said, placing a hoof on his own chest.

The issue was she wasn’t sure if she could, but this seemed harmless enough to try. She placed a hoof on her chest and waited. Unsurprisingly, there was nothing.

“I don’t feel anything,” she said.

“Give it time.”

So she did. What felt like a full minute had passed, and when she was ready to pull her hoof away, she felt it and gasped.

“Did you feel it?”

“W-wait, wait…” She put her hooves there again, waiting. Like before, so much time was passing that it seemed like nothing would happen. She remained patient, holding onto that thin hope, and…

There. A beat within her chest. It came slowly and felt like an echo of itself, but it was certainly there.

“T-that was…” She looked at him, and he nodded.

“Your heart,” he said. “Your consciousness may be here, but it’s still connected to your body. Everything your body experiences, you experience here. It’s just not going to feel as strong.”

“S-so I’m not dead?”

“That’s what I’ve been saying.”

Twilight collapsed on her rump, and felt a torrent of relief flow through her. She was still alive. She could still go back, be with her friends and family. She didn’t try to control herself. She let the tears flow freely and sat there, crying quietly to herself.

When she felt she was done, she looked back up at Mort. He kept his head down, looking at his hooves.

Finally, she found the courage to ask, “So I’m not going to die today?”

“No,” he said, shaking his his head.

“And everypony else?”

“Not them, either,” he said. “At least, not the ones in Ponyville. Not now, I mean. Tomorrow’s another day, but I’m pretty sure everypony’s safe right now.”

She bit her lip. “You don’t sound too sure.”

“Nopony has a set lifetime,” he said. “We never know when something will die, but we can pretty accurately predict if they will within a couple days. That’s what all the information you saw is for. It’s like when ponies forecast the weather patterns in the Everfree forest. They don’t know what the weather will do, but their knowledge of how it works and prior history can give them a pretty good idea of what will happen.”

“I think I get it,” she said, nodding. “So that’s why you knew about the hydra even if nothing happened?”

“Exactly.”

She tapped her forehooves, a question growing in her head. “I hate to ask, but… do you see my friends and I often?”

“W-well, um…” There it was, the stutter. And it always seemed to pop up when he was asked to say something he, or somepony else, might not like. “Let’s just say I see you all as often as I would other heroes.”

She found herself smiling. Rainbow Dash would probably be flattered to hear that, even if it was a more tactful way of saying that they had a lot of brushes with death.

“So, why are you really here? What did you want?”

“Nothing much,” he said. “Just… a little time off. Like Luna said.”

Twilight’s jaw dropped. “So that letter was...?”

“Absolutely genuine,” he said. “It’s a long story, but I do know the princesses. We thought it’d be easier if everypony thought I was just a regular pony. That, um, didn’t seem to pan out too well.”

It really could have gone better, and while the skeptic in her wanted to doubt Mort’s words, Twilight had been confident the letter was real. The style of writing, the archaic words and spellings… it was genuine Luna. If he wanted to fake a letter, Celestia would’ve been much easier to imitate.

She would need to ask them about Mort later. She was fairly certain she never dozed off in a lesson about the Pale Pony.

“I didn’t know the Pale Pony took vacations,” she said. There was a lot she didn’t know, evidently.

“Well, to be completely honest, I don’t,” he said. “This is my first one in forever.”

“And how long is ‘forever’, exactly?”

He told her.

She stared at him blankly. “I don’t think I heard you the first time. Could you repeat that?”

He did.

She blinked a couple times. “That’s, uh… that’s a very exact number.”

“Well, sometimes the days were really short or long because of feuding unicorns or the like,” he explained, “and for a while Celestia was experimenting to find the ‘optimal’ length of a day, but that’s all taken into consideration, so I think it’s pretty accurate.”

“Yes, it does sound like that.” It was also a very large number. “I didn’t take you to be so... old.”

“I’m not old, just… long lived,” he said self-consciously. “I’m still young! You know, relatively speaking.”

She giggled. Relative to the planet, perhaps. “So, that entire time, you’ve just been reaping ponies? That’s it?”

“Well, there’ve been lulls,” he said. “Though, this past century, they’ve been getting shorter and more scarce. Ponies are living longer and having more foals as a result, and less of those foals are dying at birth every year. Those same foals foals are growing up in a world where there isn’t much war or famine anymore, and some of the worst diseases are either gone or have been rendered virtually harmless thanks to medicine. Add it all up and the pony population is going to be booming for the foreseeable future. With that many ponies, it doesn’t matter if they’re healthier or living longer. There’s going to be so many that, one of these days, I’ll start moving and never stop.” He shrugged. “But what can you do, right?”

“Right…” There was a tone in his voice that suggested he wasn’t too happy about that, and while Twilight thought it was great that ponies were living longer, she wasn’t the one in charge of gathering their souls every hour of every day. “And you’re the only one doing it?”

He nodded. “Yep. One shade per species, that’s how we do it.”

“But isn’t that hard on you?”

“It can be,” he admitted. “I have to see lots of ponies every day, and… well, not a lot of them are really happy to see me. Some even blame me. And when I do meet a nice pony who understands, they don’t ever stick around for very long.”

Her ears dropped in sympathy. “That sounds awful.”

“Well, it’s… it’s not that bad,” he said. “I-I mean, it’s not like I hate it or anything. I get to do good things being the Pale Pony! I can pass along messages, take them places they couldn’t go before, or even… just listen to them. Sometimes that’s all they really want: someone to talk to.”

“Why do you, then?”

“Well, somepony has to. I mean, death can be really scary for a pony. Especially the… the younger ones,” he said, his voice dropping. “I-I don’t want them to face it alone, you know? I want them to have a shoulder to lean on if they need it. They deserve that much, at least. M-maybe that sounds sappy—”

“No, no! I… I think that’s actually kinda sweet.”

Mort looked at her in surprise, and she got the feeling he meant to be smiling. “Thank you,” he said. “I’m sorry I lied to you before. It’s just... well, if you wanted to get close to ponies, and you wanted those ponies to like you, wouldn’t you hide things about yourself? Things they wouldn’t understand, or might really scare them?”

She found herself dwelling on the question. If there was something about Twilight she was afraid to share, something that could scare or alienate her friends, would she still tell them? It bothered her the answer wasn’t an unambiguous ‘yes’. She never had to worry about anything like that. The closest she came was the time she feared her friends would think of her as some kind of braggart, but that seemed so trivial compared to this.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, “but I do think would be kind of sad. Needing to be somepony else just to make friends? It’s like...” She shrugged, the thought slightly depressing her. “Could you really say they’re friends with you if it’s not really you they know?”

He seemed to think about this, then nodded slowly. “That’s a really good point,” he said. “Still, I… I wanted to see what it was like being ‘Mort’ for a while, you know? Not the Pale Pony, or the Skull Stallion, or anything like that. Just… Mort.”

She nodded in understanding. Celestia had occasionally told her how difficult it was to socialize when everypony was afraid of offending her. She couldn’t imagine what it’d be like if everypony feared her instead. Even Luna was forgiven relatively quickly, and that may have been because her crimes were so long ago that it didn’t affect anypony anymore. Mort, though… even if he wasn’t the one who did it, death was something that would always be there. They might not just fear him, they might hate him as well.

This was the Pale Pony, she thought. Aside from the physical description, they got everything else wrong. Was this why he was always shown as being monstrous or apathetic? Something like this would be easy if he were heartless and just doing his job, but this wasn’t just a job for him. He cared about the ponies, he cared about their well being, and in return the responsibility was crushing him.

She actually found herself getting angry. Not at Mort, but the situation he was in. This wasn’t fair.

For a time, no word was shared between them. The only movement was from the green flames that danced and flickered on the torches around them.

“I, uh, can take you back,” he said. “We can go anytime you want, it’s just… I-I guess I just wanted to explain myself.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I… I appreciate you for telling me the truth, Mort.”

“Well, better late than never, right?” He tapped his forehooves together, and bowed his head towards her. “Thank you for listening, Twilight. You don’t… I-I mean, I don’t have to stick around, if you don’t want me to.”

She looked at him, confused. “Huh?”

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “If you need time to think about it, or if you’re not comfortable with me, I can go somewhere else. Really, it’s fine! I don’t… I don’t want you to feel you have to.”

“Well, what would happen?” she asked. “Would you just go somewhere else?”

“Maybe, maybe,” he said. “Or I might just… go back to work, I guess. I mean, today’s just been a disaster, and I don’t want things getting worse…”

He was trying to play this whole thing off like it was no big deal, but it was so obvious that wasn’t the case at all. If it was no big deal, he wouldn’t have tried so hard to earn their approval or forgiveness. He didn’t want to go back to reaping. Not yet, at any rate.

It was only going to get worse, wasn’t it? She had seen the population projection graphs in her school work and research. They were approaching a point where there would be more ponies alive than there would have ever died, and it would only continue to grow exponentially after that. Twilight loved her reading and research, but she could never do it hour after hour with no rest or no way to change it up. Not even before she met her friends.

Her friends. She didn’t even want to try and imagine what her life would be like without them. They were more important and valuable to her than every book ever written combined. If Mort could experience even a little bit of that magic…

“You don’t have to leave,” she said.

He blinked at her. “Huh?”

“I-I mean…” She hesitated. Doubts arose in her mind; she couldn’t do this, they said. She shouldn’t do this. This was the Pale Pony. This was something as old as ponykind, that reaped the souls from the dead and who would do the same to her one day. Now she was going to be responsible for making sure he was happy? She couldn’t do this. It was just too big.

She crushed those thoughts with a giant, mental stomp. “Too big” was no excuse. Not anymore. She’d already faced and prevailed against creatures and situations that ponies could have gone their entire lives without ever even hearing about. Now, for once, she was doing something that didn’t involve an ancient evil or mortal danger. She just needed to show him a side of life he could never experience, and through no fault of his own.

Was he the Pale Pony? Yes. Did that make the situation “too big” to help? From what she had seen and heard so far, absolutely not. Mort wasn’t some unfathomable entity beyond comprehension. If he was, she wouldn’t have seen how much this was hurting him.

“You don’t have to leave,” she repeated. “You can… you can stick around, if you really want to.”

He glanced around. “But… I don’t want to scare you, or anything.”

“Scare me? Come on.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll admit, you gave me a pretty big shock back there—” That was an understatement. “—and I’m still a little sore with you hiding this, but I think can understand why. If I were in your hooves, and I wanted ponies to accept me as badly as you did…” She shrugged. “Well, I’d be scared of letting them know, too.”

“So… it doesn’t bother you?”

“Hey, so long as you’re not bringing eternal night, brainwashing my brother, or making it rain chocolate milk, I think I can manage.” She thought over her words, and giggled. “Actually, I think the chocolate rain would be pretty fun.”

“W-well, I can’t do anything like that,” he said bashfully.

“Well darn. Then I’ll just have to settle with you being nice.” Mort stared at her, and Twilight was afraid the good-natured sarcasm flew over his head.

“Oh. Oh! Yeah, sure,” he said, nodding eagerly. “I can do nice! I’m very… nice, yes. Very nice.”

She grinned. This could work, she thought. They could go back, fix things up… in fact, things might even be better now. She could cover for him when somepony saw something weird, or encourage him to do things he couldn’t normally do.

All they had to do was leave, but Twilight found herself reluctant to do so. She wanted to go back, but it was dawning on her that she was someplace nopony had ever been before. When would she ever get another chance to explore this place?

“You know,” she said, walking up to him. “We don’t have to leave here right away, either.”

He looked at her in surprise. “We don’t?”

“I kind of want to look around here,” she said, gesturing at the tiled floor. “Could we do that before we go?”

“Are you sure? It’s not very exciting, or anything…”

“That’s okay,” she said, shrugging. “Maybe you can tell me more about yourself, or how this all works?”

“Hmm… I don’t know.” He sat down and scratched his chin, humming uncertainly. “You’re not supposed to be here, really.”

“Oh,” she said. “Well, if that’s the case…”

She hadn’t meant to sound so disappointed. Twilight was always a stickler for rules, and she hated to have somepony get in trouble because of something she did. It wasn’t like Mort couldn’t explain anything back at the library.

But it was the disappointed tone that made him look up, and she could see the gears turning in his head.

“W-well, on the other hoof, there technically aren’t any rules explicitly forbidding you, either,” he said.

She smiled apologetically. “Mort, you really don’t have to—”

“No, no, it’s fine! I’ll show you around, tell you about the other shades, it’ll be fun!”

“Well…” She glanced around, feeling a little nervous. Usually something that wasn’t explictly allowed or forbidden was assumed to be the latter, but her curiosity was getting the better of her, and she couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of seeing an unknown animal on one of the tiles. Plus Mort sounded so eager now...

“Lead the way,” she said, smiling at him, and began to follow.

Spike stood patiently next to Rarity, holding in his hands a basket filled with the quintessential scissors, needles, and thread. They were both currently inside the Carousel Boutique as the fashionista opted to pass the time by working through her backlog, hoping to at least get preliminary work done before later.

Upstairs, Sweetie Belle and her two friends were currently working on their future schemes for cutie marks, after grumbling about how their skydiving plan was a no-go. He didn’t know what they were working on next, but he planned to stay out of it. Whenever he got involved when they were in that mood, the plans always seemed to circle around using him. Dragon tamers, dragon caretakers, dragon riders… somehow putting ‘dragon’ in front of anything opened up a plethora of possibilities.

While he would usually use this time to ogl—appreciate Rarity, his thoughts were elsewhere. Twilight and Mort were currently at the library, and it rankled his scales. He had promised to go easier on Mort, and he honestly thought he had, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. His draconic instincts told him he needed to keep an eye on the cloaked pony, but here he was, and meanwhile Mort was alone with Twilight. The thought was disquieting.

“So, what do you think Twilight and Mort are doing?” Spike asked, trying to sound casual. He knew they were supposed to be doing magic practice, but he saw Twilight and Rarity speaking earlier. Maybe she knew something?

Rarity finished pinning another piece of cloth to the ponnequin, and flipped the front of her stylized mane. “Oh, I’m sure they have plenty to discuss,” she said, with a knowing look.

Spike put a hand on his waist, arching an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She pouted her lips and hummed thoughtfully. “Well, they may have things to discuss besides magic.”

What was that supposed to mean? They were the library, all alone. What else would they—

Oh ew ew ew. “Gross, Rarity! Don’t be weird!”

Rarity giggled, the melodious noise making his heart flutter in spite of the earlier mental image. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll understand when you’re older,” she said. “In the meantime, could you pass me those scissors?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure…”

“Thank you!” She floated the scissors towards her, cutting along the dotted line.

It wasn’t that Spike didn’t understand romance, but the last thing he wanted was to give Mort more reasons to be here. He knew he was on vacation, and wanted it to stay that way. He could tolerate small doses, but anything more than that, and his draconic instincts would start driving him nuts! He could only ignore them for so long at a time.

“Well, it looks like we’ve got quite a bit left over, don’t we?” Rarity floated a pile of snipped cloth in front of her, looking over it critically. “Oh dear, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to use all of this.”

“Is there too much?”

“No, it’s just… unworkable.” She pulled one from the pile to show Spike. Shapes had been cut out of it, and while there was still quite a bit left, it was in no condition to create so much as a sleeve. “I’d hate to throw it all away...”

“What about Sweetie Belle and the others?” he asked helpfully. “Maybe they can use it?”

Rarity’s eyes lit up. “Ah, a wonderful idea! Thank you so much, Spikey.”

She rubbed the side of his cheek, and his left foot started tapping rapidly. He felt lighter than air, a breeze away from floating off.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, heading upstairs. “If you see any customers, be a dear and let them in, won’t you?”

“O-oh yeah, sure thing!” He saluted smartly, and kept the pose until she had disappeared upstairs.

He clapped his hands, rubbing them together. “Okay, Spike the Number One Assistant is on the case! Now, how should I do this…?” He scratched his chin, thinking. “Uh… ‘Hello, and welcome to the Carousel Boutique, your one-stop shop for…’” He cleared his throat. “Good ‘morrow, sir-slash-madam, and welcome to the Carousel Boutique, where we shall attend all your—’”

He couldn’t go any further before going into a coughing fit, and rubbed his throat. “Geeze, how does anyone talk like that?”

Thump.

“Huh?”

Thump!

Spike spun towards the door, and hurried over to it. “O-okay, I got it! I got it!” He swung the door open and bowed immediately. “Hello, and welcome to—”

“Hoo!”

Spike’s shout was muffled as something feathery suddenly flew into his face, knocking him over. He pushed himself up, and blinked the stars from his eyes to see what it was. “Owlowiscious?”

Owlowiscious raised his head, his eyes rolling around. “Hoo?”

“What are you doing here?” he asked, picking the owl up.

Owlowiscious shook his head, looked around, and immediately took the air. “Hoo!”

“Huh?”

“Hoo!”

Spike scratched his head. “Uh, I’m sorry, I don’t speak owl. Maybe we could get Fluttershy—ow!”

Owlowiscious ducked back, avoiding a backhand from Spike. The baby dragon rubbed his chin, where Owlowiscious had tried to grab on with his talons.

“What’s with you?! Why aren’t you at…” As the question sunk in, so did the implications. “Oh no,” he gasped. “Owlowiscious, did something happen at the library?!”

“Hoo!” Owlowiscious hovered by the door, looking expectantly at Spike.

Oh, he knew it! He knew Mort was up to no good! Why didn’t he trust his instincts?! He got up and headed for the stairs—

Then stopped. What if this wasn’t a big deal? He’d been trying all day to stay nice to Mort, especially in front of Rarity. If this was just another misunderstanding, what would Twilight think? What would Rarity think?

Maybe… maybe he should check for smoke before screaming fire. If anything went wrong, he could always breath flames at him. That should be more than enough for a clumsy unicorn, right?

He ran back to the door, and pointed outside. “Lead the way, Owlowiscious!”

“Hoo!”

By the time Spike reached the library, he had broken into a sweat and was panting heavily. Dragons were just not meant for running. Not on two legs, at least.

“This…” He stopped momentarily, supporting himself on his knees. “T-this better be good, Owlowiscious,” he said, jabbing his finger at the owl.

Owlowiscious hooted and perched next to the ruined library sign, his eyes urging Spike onward. Groaning softly, he trudged towards the entrance, his ears listening for anything. Immediately he was struck by how quiet it was. It shouldn’t have been unusual—this was a library, after all—but he thought he’d at least hear Twilight talking from inside. She was supposed to be teaching things, right?

The other thing to cause him concern was the door. He pushed on it, and found that it resisted him. He gritted his teeth, shoved with all his might, and finally it swung inward, causing something to go crashing on the opposite side.

Spike’s jaw dropped at the sight: books and scrolls covered the entire floor, leaving no room for anyone to stand. Dust hovered in the sunlight, almost making him sneeze. The ground floor looked to be the epicenter of a localized tornado.

“T-Twilight?” Owlowiscious flew in above, and perched on one of the empty shelves, pointing with his wing. Spike followed it and saw Twilight lying down in the back, seemingly asleep and leaning against Mort. The books had been dug out so that the two would be on the floor. A faint glow floated in between them, and it took Spike a moment to see that it was from their horns touching.

“Twilight?” He made his way across the floor, careful not to step too hard on any of the books. Like he needed that earful. “What’s going on? W-what’s Mort doing?”

Twilight’s ears twitched, but aside from that she didn’t stir. Neither did Mort, whose face was obscured by his hood. Spike’s misgivings about Mort intensified upon seeing him. He always looked “off” in some way, and somehow that seemed truer now. The cloak looked less clothlike, his body seemed thinner, and… since when did unicorn horns curve that much? Or look that thin? Or sharp?

He stopped in front of them. Twilight was breathing slowly, but regularly. Mort was not. In fact, Mort wasn’t breathing at all.

“Uh, Mort?” He reached his hands up, grasping the sides of the hood to lift it back. “What’s going…”

Spike’s arms froze as he got a good look at Mort. He had always thought he looked relatively thin, and those red eyes kinda creeped him out, but it was less creepier than, say, a skull. Which was what stared at Spike right now, with cavernous sockets that seemed to go on forever.

He screamed and shot across the floor, hiding behind a stack of books. He leaned against the stack, his heart racing faster than what any marathon would have done. Peeking out, he rubbed his eyes to confirm he wasn’t crazy, and indeed he wasn’t: Mort was a skeleton.

Mort was dead.

Spike nibbled at his fingertips, terror setting in. What in Equestria had happened?! Did a magical experiment go wrong and do something to Mort? What was happening to Twilight? Why wasn’t she awake, and what was with that glow?

Wait.

He forced himself to look at Mort again, and focused on the horn. Mixed in with Twilight’s signature magic was a green magic he had only seen from the cloaked pony. And it seemed to still be coming from him. Spike was not an expert on magic, but he was confident that shouldn’t happen if the unicorn was dead.

What if… what if Mort wasn’t dead at all? Spike had always thought he looked unusual, and while he saw red eyes and a curved horn before, none of the others seemed to have noticed as much. And all those animals freaked out every time they saw Mort, too.

What if Mort had always been like this, and had just hidden it all along? That would mean...

“Oh my gosh.” He ran to a pile of papers, digging through them until he found a blank sheet and some ink. “Owlowiscious! Come down here!”

“Hoo?” He floated down, perching on a book next to him.

“Give me your wing!”

“Hoo ooh!”

“Sorry,” he said, as the owl glared at him and rubbed the spot where the feather had been plucked. Sticking it in the ink, Spike wrote a message on the paper:

PRINCESS

COME QUICK

LIBRARY

TWILIGHT WONT WAKE UP

MORT IS A ZOMBIE

HURRY!!

He used so much ink on the last line he was afraid it would bleed through. He rolled the scroll up, put on a haphazard binding, and ignited it. The green cloud twirled in the air, and then flew out the door.

“We have to find the others!” he said, running to the door. “Go find Rainbow Dash! Get her back here!”

“Hoo!”

Something bounced off of Spike’s head. Rubbing the spot, he looked at his feet and saw Mort’s medallion. He looked back up at Owlowiscious, who moved his beak from Spike to the medallion, as if trying to tell him something.

He looked at the leaning skeleton, then looked at the medallion. Was it not coincidental that he definitely look like a skeleton now at the moment he wasn’t wearing this? He wrapped the chain around his arm to secure the medallion, then opened the door.

As Owlowiscious flew out the door, Spike looked behind him one last time. He didn’t want to leave Twilight leaning against Mort, especially when it was clear that there seemed to be some kind of magic going on, but he feared what would happen if he interrupted it. Good or bad, it was often dangerous to interrupt a spell in progress. He didn’t want to do anything until the princesses were here.

“I’ll be back, Twilight,” he said, and took off towards the Boutique.

Murphy's Law

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “About everything.”

She smiled patiently. “I know.”

“You do?”

She rolled her eyes good naturedly. “You’ve only said it three or four times already.”

“Oh.” Silence. “Um, sorry.”

She snorted, and he laughed a few seconds later.

They had been walking across chamber for some time. Twilight wasn’t sure how much had passed. It could’ve been hours, for all she knew. In that time, Mort had been telling her all about the shades, their origins, and the way they operated.

At the top was Thanasia, an alicorn who was creator and leader of the shades, and sounded an awful lot like the alicorn Twilight had seen. Apparently there was a time when Thanasia did all the reaping herself, but at some point realized she couldn’t attend to every creature without falling far behind. From that came the idea of shades, and it was these beings who did the actual reaping these days, and Thanasia who merely directed them using “prophecies.” While the prophecies weren’t foolproof, they were extremely accurate within a couple days, but got fuzzier and fuzzier the further out they went.

The prophecies, from what she could gather, were very elaborate predictions, and were made based on the information gathered by the shades. Twilight had caught a glimpse of it when she was linked to Mort earlier, though Mort didn’t look at the world that way all the time. He would end up “missing the trees for the forest,” in his words. That was okay, however; he had trained himself to continue collecting data on a subconcious level.

It bothered Twilight a little that ponies could be predicted like that, though Mort assured her that it wasn’t that different from knowing what her friends would do in a given situation. Free will didn’t have to mean that every action was unpredictable and equally possible. Knowing a pony wouldn’t stick their hoof in an open flame, for example, didn’t mean the pony had no choices. Just that they had common sense.

It was all fascinating to listen to. She was always a sucker for organization, but she was more interested in the shades themselves. Given that they could drop in and out of the physical world and see all aspects of reality, Twilight was becoming convinced that Mort—and by extension, the other shades and Thanasia—were legitimate four-dimensional beings, or at the least something very close to it. Or maybe five-dimensional? Or maybe dimensions didn’t play into it at all. Maybe it was something that ponies couldn’t even comprehend, or...

Unable to help herself, she squealed in delight. “This is all so exciting!” she said, clopping her hooves together. “How you guys work, what you’re made of, what you can do, and we haven’t even gotten to this place!” She held her forelegs out, gesturing at the tiled floor and torches.

“Well, this is the collective unconsciousness,” he said. “All our minds are connected to it. Whenever Thanasia makes a prophecy, we gather here to receive it.”

“Right, right, and the tiles show you where to stand, right?” She looked at the tiles underneath them. “Do they all look like you?”

“Oh no, we all look different,” he said. “We all looked the same starting out, but over time the shades for more intelligent races started picking up the characteristics of their given species. Moi, for example.”

“Really? How about… oh.”

He looked at her, concerned. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing, it’s just…” Twilight looked warily at the tile beneath her. The carving looked pony shape, but the legs were perforated and the wings were clearly insect-like.

“Oh, this is Echo’s tile! She’s the changeling shade, um, if that weren’t obvious enough already. She loves transforming into a bunch of different things and creatures.”

“I’ve never had a good experience with them,” she said.

“Ah, right,” he said. “Almost forgot about that.”

She looked between Mort and the changeling tile. “Is she… evil?”

“Oh, no. No,” he said. He tapped his hoofs together, then said, “Well, she does like to play pranks on some of us when she gets the chance. Usually by changing into something to make us uncomfortable. Or confusing. She has this thing called ‘cee gee ai’ that’s a complete mind bender if you can’t handle higher dimensions. And she might try to freak out a soul or two.”

“So she’s mean?”

He sighed. “I don’t know, I don’t think she’s mean or anything, she just doesn’t have a lot of, er, what’s the word…” He wiggled his toe in a circle, humming to himself then suddenly said, “Empathy, that’s it! A lot of the intelligent shades haven’t developed a strong sense of empathy yet. They just kinda do and say things off-the-cuff without thinking, even to each other.”

“Right,” she said. “So, they might be mean on accident, but they’re not evil?”

“No, I don’t think I’ve ever seen an evil shade. We’re a lot of things, but we haven’t been that.” He paused. “Well, not yet. Not ever, I would hope.”

Well, that was good, wasn’t it? She didn’t like the idea of evil reapers running around. “Did you name her, or…?”

“She chose it,” he said, as they continued to walk. “Actually, she likes changing her name a lot. A while ago she went by Forma, then before that she went by Narcissus. Changes her appearance, too. She’s not one to stick to a single identity.”

“So, all the shades choose their name?”

“Depends,” he said. “A lot of the shades don’t even have names, because they haven’t grasped the concept yet. The others either named themselves or adopted it from the creatures they reaped. Let’s see, there’s Keres the griffin shade, Cloudwalker the bison shade, Du’a the zebra shade, Motzebub the fly shade—fly shades, I should say, it’s kinda complicated—and there’s Gary the cattle shade—”

“Gary?”

He shrugged. “Well, there’s nothing saying the names have to be fancy or thematic. He just likes Gary.” He paused, then added, “And he looks like a cow.”

She tilted her head. “He looks like a cow?”

“On two legs.”

She tried envisioning such a scene. A bipedal cow, walking up to other cows while speaking in a bullish voice…

She shook the surreal image from her head. “What about you? Where did ‘Mort’ come from? Did you make it up on your own?”

“Well, not really,” he said. “Celestia and Luna gave it to me.”

“They did?”

“Yeah,” he said wistfully. “It was their first gift to me, and I’ve been cherishing it ever since.”

That was something else he had touched on. From what she gathered, the princesses were the “They” mentioned in the letter she got. Putting everything together, it all made a certain amount of sense; the princesses certainly would have been very busy, and Mort’s responsibilities couldn’t easily be passed off to someone else. Just like Celestia, Luna was the type to put hidden meanings inside her messages, and approach the facts from “a certain point of view.”

It made other parts of the letter make more sense as well. How his family wasn’t very close, or how he hadn’t had a days rest in his life. All of it sounded pretty consistent with what she’s heard so far.

This was the first time she’s ever heard of a name as a ‘gift’, though. Much less one that’s worth cherishing.

“You’re pretty close to them, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” he said. “They’re practically family.”

“It’s just… unbelievable,” she said, her tone one of awe. “I can’t believe the princesses are friends with the Pale Pony!”

“Well they are,” he snapped.

Twilight reeled back a little from the sudden outburst. Mort blinked and looked in the opposite direction.

“I-I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “Thanasia said something earlier about them, and I’m just a little… sensitive, that’s all. Sorry.”

Twilight looked at him sympathetically. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she said. “It’s just... why haven’t I heard about this? Why hasn’t any one heard about this? It’s huge! Do you have any idea what your existence means? You’d turn everything we know about theology on its head! You’re concrete evidence that there’s such thing as a soul, maybe even an afterlife!”

He paradoxically cleared his throat. “W-well, the thing is—”

“And it goes beyond knowing more about life or death! If Celestia or Luna knew about you, imagine all the things they could learn! They’d know if a pony were sick, or if they were going to have an accident—”

“Let me, uh, let me stop you there,” he said, motioning at her with a hoof. “I know them, I’m friends with them, but… well, it’s not without conditions.”

She tilted her head to one side. “Conditions?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Thanasia allows… well, I guess it’s more accurate to say she tolerates our relationship, so long as I’m not giving them ‘insider info’ or anything like that. She doesn’t want shades interfering too much with the living. Especially when it comes to their life-or-death situations.”

“Why not?”

“Well, she thinks a shade who feels empowered to save someone might also feel empowered to hurt or even kill someone as well. It’s a slippery slope kind of thing. There’s no guarantee every shade is going to make the most ethical decision if given the choice, so she doesn’t give us that choice to start with. Even one rogue shade could be disastrous for everyone.”

“Have you ever wanted to save somepony, though?”

“W-well, I’m not supposed… I-I mean…” He looked around, confirming that they were still the only two in there. “Maybe a… a few times, I felt that.”

“And hurting them?”

The question came out before she could stop herself, and was almost followed up by an apology. By then, though, Mort had already come to an immediate stop, and was quiet for a long time. Twilight found herself waiting for his reply.

After an uncomfortable silence, he whispered shamefully, “No comment.”

“Oh. Well, that’s okay.” Twilight looked away, mentally kicking herself. On the one hoof she hated how it seem the shades could step in like Mort whenever they wanted, and simply chose not to. There were so many crimes and tragedies they could prevent.

On the other hoof, Mort was right. If every shade were given that kind of authority, who’s to say they would all have the same idea of good or evil? Just imagine if Chrysalis had the changeling shade on her side during the invasion. A creature that could become undetectable, unstoppable, and have a magic that could sever souls? They would have never made it out the door. And then those differences could divide the shades, and who knew what sort of chaos that would cause.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Huh? No, no, I’m not mad at you or anything,” she said quickly. “I can definitely see where she’s coming from. It’s just… it’d be nice if shades could do that. Be guardian angels, I mean.”

“Well, it’s not just that she’s worried about us interfering too much,” he said. “I think she’s also afraid that if everypony knew about us, they’d start trying to capture or control us.” He sighed. “Thanasia doesn’t have the greatest opinion of ponies. She thinks Celestia and Luna...” He trailed, off, and Twilight chose not to ask any further about it.

She frowned. She kept receiving mixed signals when it came to Thanasia. Mort would seem to revere her one moment, and then sound intimidated by her the next. The latter popped up often when it came to dealing with her personally. Twilight could sympathize, given her own feelings are Celestia, but the sun princess continued to be one of the kindest, most patient ponies in Equestria. She was getting the impression that Thanasia was not quite as warm.

“Well, you have to be doing something right if she lets you stay friends with them,” she said.

“That’s what I tell myself,” he said. There was silence between them for a moment. “They didn’t just give me a name, you know. What I know, what I am… I owe all of that to them. Before I met them I was dumber than a bag of rocks, but Celestia and Luna taught me how to speak, how to act, showed me what it was like to… live, I guess. I was actually happy, and I liked feeling happy! I didn’t think it would ever end. Or at least, that’s what I thought a thousand years ago.”

“That long?” He nodded. “But… a thousand years? That means you were there when Luna...”

“Yeah,” he said, his tone regretful. “I saw the signs early on, I think, but I… I didn’t think to do or say anything about it. I didn’t understand what it was like to feel sadness, or despair, or anything like that. I couldn’t understand why Luna felt the way she did, or what I could do to help, and… and because of that I got so frustrated with her. I said these horrible things, and…” He kicked at the tiles beneath. “I was so stupid!”

“Hey now—”

“Somehow I didn’t even know it was going to happen!” he said, ignoring her. “Literally, one moment I’m minding my own business, and then I get word that Luna’s renamed herself as Nightmare Moon, and that she was attacking Celestia. The first I heard about it was the moment it had already happened! And I had to be there because… because one or both could…”

Twilight kept quiet this time, waiting for Mort to recompose himself. “I… I never felt so helpless in my life. I, I wanted to do something, but I wasn’t allowed to get in the way! I didn’t know what to do! I wanted to help them, but I didn’t want to disobey Thanasia either, and...” He sat down heavily, his head hanging low. “My friends were hurting each other, and I couldn’t—I didn’t do anything.”

The self-loathing was almost palpable. Twilight wanted to say something, but she didn’t know where to start.

“When… when it was all over, Equestria lost a princess, Celestia lost her sister, and…” He buried his head in his hooves, shaking it miserably. “And I lost one of my only friends.”

“But you knew Luna was coming back, didn’t you?” Twilight asked. “Celestia must’ve told you—”

“And then what?” he asked, his head snapping up. “Use the Elements of Harmony on her again? We didn’t know if it was going to work, Twilight! The Elements of Harmony are forces of good, but they’re primal magic. You can’t tell them what to do. All you can do is point, and hope for the best. Luna could’ve been banished again, or turned to stone, or…” He sighed. “They could’ve even destroyed her. We were both so worried we were going to lose Luna all over again. Maybe even forever.”

Twilight gasped. “I thought… I-I never knew...”

“And you never had to,” he said, walking over to her. “Because when the time came, you and your friends took up the Elements of Harmony, and… and you saved her, Twilight! You gave Celestia her sister back, and… and I got my friend back.” His shoulders shook, quiet sobs tearing through him.

“You… you’re the reason I came to Ponyville today, Twilight,” he said. “I-I didn’t want to wait until you were really old, or anything. I wanted to see you know now and do… do something to show you how grateful I am! Repay you somehow! But now… now I don’t know I even can. I-I can’t help you live longer, or help fight your battles, and today’s just been...” He shut his eyes and shook his head. “I-I don’t know what to do…”

She watched him with a heavy heart, unsure what to say. How many ponies have had this many obstacles between them and others? His appearance was frightening, his responsibility was as morbid as it could get, his schedule was unpredictable by nature, and he couldn’t even step in to help anypony if he wanted to. He was powerful and powerless all at once. What do you say to somepony like that?

There was one thing, but… would that be enough? She wanted to believe it was. She had to.

“Mort,” she said, placing a hoof on his shoulder. “I… I want you to know something. I want you to know that—”

“Oh no.”

She blinked at him, confused and hurt. Where had that come from? “But I haven’t even—”

“Shh, shh!” Twilight closed her mouth and watched Mort raise his head, as if trying to listen for something. Suddenly his eyes widened and he looked at Twilight. “We have to leave.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Thanasia’s going to be here soon,” he said, grabbing her hooves. “It was faint, but I heard her calling the other shades. It won’t be long.”

She could hear the fear in his voice. “You didn’t know?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said. “There must have been a disaster, or her schedule’s getting off track because she’s covering for me, or...”

Twilight looked around. She and Mort were still the only ones there, but more and more it was feeling like the calm before the storm.

“Um, assuming she does find me here,” she asked. “What will she do?”

“Nothing,” he said, “because one, she’s beholden to the same rules we are, and two, she’s not going to find you.” She looked in his eyes, and somehow found comfort in the way they didn’t waver when looking at her. “We’re leaving right now. Just close your eyes, and on three you’re going to wake up in the library, and I’ll be right there with you.”

Twilight nodded, and closed her eyes.

“One.”

She splayed her ears back. Were those noises real or imaginary?

“Two.”

She began to silently chant a phrase she read from a foal’s book, while knocking her hooves together.

“Three!”

Twilight braced herself, expecting to fall like she did before. To have the tiles, the torches, and the pillar all fly into the void before being replaced by her library.

She opened her eyes… and saw Mort looking at her. She looked around, and saw she was still in the collective unconsciousness. A feeling of dread began to worm its way in.

“Mort?”

“I got it, I got it!” he said. “Here we go: one, two, three!”

She expected at least Mort to vanish, but he didn’t. He was still standing there, looking flummoxed.

“Mort?” she asked. “When I was linked up to you, did you see anything I saw?”

“No,” he said.

“Alright, so maybe it was one way,” she said. “So, assuming that link is the same one that brought me here, and is still one way...”

His eye shrunk. “Then we can’t go back.”

They stared at each other in silence, those words hanging in the air like a guillotine.

Beneath them, the tiles hummed.

“Spike, are you sure you saw—”

“Yes, yes, YES! I know what I saw, Rarity! We gotta hurry!”

She sighed and continued to trot towards the library, while Spike urged her on from her back.

After she had dropped the materials off for her sister and her friends, she had come back downstairs to find that Spike had left. Puzzled by his sudden and unannounced departure, she got back to work, sewing in silence until the door suddenly burst open. Before she realized what had happened, Spike was tugging her by the tail and going on and on about skeletons and danger.

Rarity was eventually able to calm him down, but even then she barely understood, much less believed, what he was saying. He claimed that the library was a wreck, that Twilight was unconscious, and that Mort—the same pony they had been speaking and walking with all day—was not just a skeleton, but had always been a skeleton.

Understandably, she had a bit of trouble believing that. She tried to explain to Spike how ridiculous it sounded, but the more he insisted, the more Rarity began to doubt. While she was used to hearing these sorts of exaggerations from Sweetie Belle and knew how to spot them, it usually took just a few words to calm her down and have her reconsider what she saw. Spike only continued to become more upset, and Rarity would be lying if she said it wasn’t contagious.

Eventually, she conceded to checking out the library. While she had extreme doubts about the skeleton claim, she could believe that maybe there was some sort of accident. It was on her way out that she met with Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy, returning from the cottage. She was surprised to see them so soon, but chose not to ask about it when she overheard mentions of nets and weaponized kitchen utensils. Evidently the animals were still quite upset about Mort, a fact which didn’t escape Spike. He said ponies were getting deceived, and it was only he and the animals who saw through it.

Rarity asked Fluttershy to fetch Applejack, and now it was just her, Spike, and Pinkie Pie rushing to the library. They were almost there when they heard a commotion happening above them.

“Stop tugging on me, featherbrain! What is with you today?!”

“Hoo!”

“You!”

“Hoo!”

“You! Why are you always doing that?!”

“Hoo!”

“Grrrr!”

“Rainbow Dash!” That was from Pinkie Pie, who tried to wave down the pegasus as she flew above. Rainbow Dash got out of Owlowiscious’ face and flew down, her heavy landing announcing her frustration.

“What is with the animals today?!” she demanded, glaring daggers at the agitated owl. “Here I was, trying to take a nap, when this guy—” She jabbed her hoof towards Owlowiscious. “—got all up in my face! What’s going on?”

“Ah’d like to know that myself!” Rarity turned, and was surprised to see it was Applejack, already coming down the road with Fluttershy flying behind her.

“Applejack,” Rarity said, waving her over. “How did you get here so quickly?”

“Big Mac offered to load up the rest of the wood ‘imself, so Ah was already on my way here when Ah spotted Fluttershy.” She stopped in front of them, looking from one to the other. “Now, can anypony tell me what’s goin’ on?”

“Well, it’s Spike,” Rarity said, nodding towards her passenger. “He said—”

“Mort’s a zombie!”

Rarity winced, the shout coming right beside her ear. The reactions were as she expected: Applejack and Rainbow Dash looked at each other skeptically, Pinkie Pie looked surprised, and Fluttershy looked frightened.

Fluttershy gulped, visibly shaken. “Z-z-zombie?”

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “Really? I lost sleep over Spike seein’ things?”

“I am not seeing things!”

Rarity winced again. “Spike, not so close to my ears!”

“Now let’s all calm down,” Applejack said. “Spike, what exactly did y’all see?”

Spike growled in frustration, tugging at his fins. “I keep telling everypony! The library’s messed up, Twilight won’t wake up, and Mort’s nothing but bones!”

“Hoo!” Owlowiscious landed beside Spike, and Rarity’s hair raised as she felt the talons gently clasp onto her back.

“It sounds a tad farfetched,” she said, mindful of Spike’s feelings, “but it is worrying him quite a bit, so I don’t think checking on them would be too much trouble.”

She looked back at her friends for a reaction, but this time noticed the uneasy look between Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash. “Do you two have something to add?”

“Oh, uh, well…” Rainbow Dash rubbed the back of her neck. “It’s probably nothing, but…”

“W-well, earlier in the day, Angel was drawing a picture of Mort,” Fluttershy said, looking shyly at her hooves. “And in the picture, he kept drawing Mort with...um, skulls and crossbones…”

“He did?” She chose to ignore the idea of a rabbit drawing anything, and focused on what was said. “Has he ever…?”

“Oh, no,” Fluttershy said, shaking her head. “He’s drawn a few times before, but that’s the first time I’ve ever seen something like that.”

“Well, ain’t that just a coincidence,” Spike said bitterly.

“Now calm down Spike,” Applejack said. “Ah’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for all of this.”

“Well, duh!” Pinkie Pie chimed in. “Obviously, it’s just his mask!”

It was Pinkie Pie, but… “I‘m sorry, dear, did you say ‘mask’?”

“Uh huh!” she said cheerfully. “I saw Derpy earlier today, and she told me all about it! Apparently he was wearing it at the park with Twilight!”

“But… she’s never told any of us about a mask?”

“And Ah ain’t ever seen him wear one,” Applejack said.

“So what did he look like? Huh?”

“Spike, that is no tone for someone like you to take!” Rarity said reproachfully. “But if it’ll humour you, Mort’s face is pale, and thin, and…” She trailed off, digging into her memories, but found that for some reason, they were coming back fuzzy. “Er, his snout was rather petite—”

“I thought it was kinda big!” Pinkie Pie said. “And he had those really pink eyes—”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure they were red,” Rainbow Dash said. “Plus you could kinda see a brown mane—”

“Nuh huh, it were orange,” Applejack said. “Feller always had a smile on his face—”

“Erm, e-excuse me, but I always thought he looked a little, well, sad,” Fluttershy said.

An awkward silence filled the air. Rarity looked from one to the other, seeing faces both confused and embarrassed, which might have mirrored her own.

“Really? All this time we’ve spent with him, all this time we’ve talked with him, and none of us know for sure what he looks like?”

“Kinda suspicious, don’t you think?”

This time, Rarity couldn’t reproach Spike. It was suspicious. Mort might have had that hood on all the time, but it was hardly enough to conceal everything about him. Rarity remembered everypony she’s ever met, and she knew Pinkie Pie never forgot a face, either. How could they not have seen the same thing?

“I… I think we should hurry now,” she said, her words filled with worry. Spike yelped and clung to her back as she took off, and Owlowiscious took the air close by. A moment later she heard everypony else galloping or flapping behind her.

“Okay, here’s what we do,” he said. “First, we hide you—”

“There aren’t exactly a lot of hiding places around, Mort.”

The pony shade looked around, as if hoping something would suddenly pop up.

“Okay, maybe not,” he said.

Twilight was trying to say calm, but there was a humming in the air, something she could feel more than hear. It seemed to be emanating from the tiles under her, and made her think of a stampede. Perhaps it was just her imagination, but it seemed to be getting louder. Were they going to start flying down from above, or come rushing in from the outside, like she had?

Wait. “Maybe we can run away!”

“What?”

“We can go back out there!” she said, pointing out into the void. “They won’t see us if we get far enough away, right?”

“Maybe…” Mort looked out into the infinite blackness, then back at her. “It’s not going to get us back to our bodies, though.”

“Maybe not, but it’ll give us time.”

“And it might be really hard on you,” he said. “There’s literally nothing out there. That could drive a pony, you know…” He twirled his toe in a circle around his head.

“There won’t be nothing, though,” she said. “You’ll be there.”

Mort looked surprised, than embarrassed. “I-I guess.”

“Okay,” she said, walking towards the perimeter. “So let’s get out of here before—”

There was a flash of light, and she bumped into something that had hard skin, knocking them both over. It had the physical characteristics of a changeling queen, but was only a little taller than herself. The thread-like hair was a light blue that had streaks of color that changed from moment to moment. The carapace was the same way, flowing with colors like coral.

The changeling lifted herself up and turned to look at Twilight, her aquamarine eyes registering surprise. “Twilight Sparkle?”

“Echo! Good to see you!” Mort rushed over and helped Twilight up, leading her away. “Sorry about that! We’re just going to leave now—”

“Wait a minute. Mort?” The changeling shade was on her hooves in an instant, and walked towards them. “Mort, what is going on here?”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with!” he said cheerfully. “If you can just keep this to yourself I would really—”

Twilight then tripped over something that squirmed and felt like liquid ice. She shrieked and jumped back to her hooves to get a look at it. Writhing on a tile there was a small, amorphous blob, with tiny eyes and what looked like antenna sticking out of its head. It twisted the front half of its body to one side, blinking its eyes at her. Below she saw what looked like a rabbit carving.

“Sorry!” She backed away from it, and looked to see Echo still staring at her. “Um, listen, I know I’m not supposed to be here, but…”

“How did you get here?” Echo asked suspiciously. “What did Mort do?”

“Mort? Oh, he didn’t do anything! In fact, we were just trying to leave!”

“Right, so, uh, if both of you could keep this to yourselves…”

Twilight returned her attention to the rabbit shade, seeing it hop towards her, making a chirping noise. Twilight didn’t know if it meant “Hello” or “Intruder” and she didn’t want to find out.

“This is serious, you two!” Suddenly her carapace became armor, gilded in gold, and hair and feathers suddenly covered her. She was the spitting image of a royal guardspony. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ll be in?!”

“Uh…” Twilight’s eyes darted around. More and more tiles were glowing, and from them dark shapes were arising. If they didn’t move now she’d be surrounded. “Uh…”

The faux-guard changed again, losing the armor and increasing in height, while gaining a horn and royal regalia. The mane became a flowing sea of morning colors. Celestia glared at her. “Well, my student?”

Twilight looked at Mort. “Well?”

“I find most ponies have an appropriate reaction at a time like this,” he said.

The shade-turned-Celestia leaned closer. “And what’s that?”

“Well, it’s nothing special, they have a lot of words for RUN!”

For the second time Twilight ran into Echo, but this time intentionally. She knocked the changeling shade over and began to run as columns of light rose from the tiles. From them shades began to appear, looking at them in surprise as they dashed by.

“Head for the outside!” Mort said, spreading his wings and flying up. Twilight thought back to when she first arrived and how she had ended up walking in upside-down. She just had to think about walking on empty space, but it was difficult to think like that when a floor was clearly beneath her and grounding her imagination, not to mention she was becoming distracted by the torrent of shades coming out of the tiles.

She ran towards the outside, dodging and weaving around the shades. She ducked under the wing of something armored, and didn’t see the large, hairy shade until she was literally on top of it. She ran up its back and launched herself off, hearing the shade bellow in surprise. Sometimes there were too many shades for her to squeeze through, and all she could do was turn and try to readjust herself when she found another opening.

She thought she was incredibly lucky to find a large expanse of floor that wasn’t glowing, and more so when she saw it was on the edge. Looking back, the once-vacant floor was now populated by an army of different shades. Many looked like the scribbles of some foal that only had a black marker. A few were far more distinct and colorful, looking very much like animals Twilight recognized.

“Twilight!” She looked up, and saw Mort flying above her. “Get off that tile!”

She looked down. “Which one? There’s dozens…”

She looked down. There were not, in fact, dozens of tiles. The floor was unbroken and flat, save for the carving. It didn’t make sense until she remembered that the tiles were not uniform in size or shape, and were just large enough for their specified shade. So if this whole thing was one tile—

Light burst out from the floor in front of her, and she skidded to a halt. She tried to run in another direction, but saw the light was traveling in an irregular path around her. She looked down again, and saw she was standing between the jaws of a giant dragon carving. As the implications hit her, the carving came to life and its giant head rose from the tile. Twilight rose with it, and she clung to the bridge of its snout to avoid falling off. The shades beneath her shrunk to the size of tennis balls. Mort shouted her name.

When it finally stopped, Twilight slowly opened her eyes to look at the jet-black scales pressing against her. The scales suddenly parted, revealing a ruby-red eye that focused on her.

Twilight screamed at the exact moment the dragon roared, and she was flung through the air. She flailed her legs in a futile attempt to slow her descent, but then felt something suddenly grab her in midair.

“Thank you…” She looked up to thank Mort, but instead saw that the one holding her was a griffon, whose forearms and breast were armored. The griffon glared at her from behind a metal mask, which covered everything above the jawline. Twilight gulped.

Wordlessly, the griffon deposited her on the floor and performed a loop in the air, landing with a metal clang. She approached Twilight and was soon joined by the other shades, blocking all escape. Twilight looked down and saw she was on Mort’s tile.

The shades gradually formed a circle around her, chatting amongst themselves. She heard a few words in there somewhere, but she also heard chirping and buzzing. Some of the shades were flashing colors, and a tiny few were even changing their bodies into geometric shapes.

“Um, h-hello, everyone.”

She could barely hear herself over them, but somehow it was enough to bring every conversation to a halt. The shades all focused their attention on her again, as if waiting for something. The silence hung over them awkwardly.

“It’s, uh, i-it’s nice to see you all,” she said, trying to strike a friendly tone. “How’s… how’s that weather, huh?”

She forced a smile, but it started to falter in the face of the blank stares she received.

“Er, pardon me.”

The deep, thunderous voice came from above, and Twilight gasped when she saw the owner was the dragon from before. It seemed to flinch upon seeing her reaction.

“Uh, yes, guten tag, little pony,” he said, waving a giant, clawed hand that looked big enough to carry a small house. “Didn’t mean to frighten you. I am Schwarzer Tod, and you are... Twilight Sparkle, ja?”

This caused something of an uproar, and Twilight shied away as the group broke into broken, often alien, conversations. From the snippets she could understand, she heard her name spoken several times, but more worrisome were the mentions of Mort’s name.

“Twilight! Are you okay?” Mort landed beside her, and circled around, looking her over. “You’re not hurt or anything, are you? I mean, I’m not sure if a consciousness can even feel pain, but—”

“Mort?” He looked up, and she jerked her heads towards the army of shades around them. He followed her lead, and seemed to notice for the first time that they were surrounded. He glanced around nervously.

“Uh… oh, oh! What is this?” Mort said, putting his hooves on his cheekbones in mock-shock. “There, uh, there appears to be a pony in the collective unconsciousness! How could she have gotten here?”

Mort spread his forelegs, giving probably the worst performance of innocence Twilight had ever seen. Even Applejack could be more convincing. Twilight forced a big smile, but she could see some of the more distinct shades facepalming or shaking their heads in disbelief.

“You are a beschissener liar, Mort,” Tod rumbled, sounding sorry for him.

“Not even a D for effort,” Echo added.

“Make way, make way! Coming through!” Something shoved its way to the forefront, knocking several shades over. It looked to be a bison, and Twilight realized it was the shade she had ran across moments ago. He was still readjusting his headdress when he got up front. He tilted his head left and right, squinting his eyes.

“Oh, wow, it really is you,” he said, blinking in surprise. “A little heavier than when I last saw ya, but yer definitely the genuine article.” He looked at Mort and shook his head pityingly. “Mort, I knew you’d jump off the deep end someday, but bringing a pony here? That’s not just crazy, that’s… dumb!”

Mort narrowed his eyes. “Cloudwalker, it’s not like that—”

“I mean, we have three rules,” Cloudwalker said, holding his hoof up. “Don’t kill ‘em, don’t save ‘em, and don’t… uh…” Cloudwalker wiggled his two toes, as if expecting a third, then suddenly grabbed the hand of the griffon beside him, counting on her fingers. “Don’t kill ‘em, don’t save ‘em, and don’t tell ‘em about us!” The griffon pulled her hand away, glaring at the bison.

Mort sighed raggedly. “I-I know the rules—”

“I mean, couldn’t you have brought the pink one at least?” the bison shade continued. “Heck, at least she’s fun! This one’s just kinda, you know, ‘eh’.”

“I’m sorry, but do I know you?” Twilight asked, her agitation seeping through.

“Oh, right, right…” He cleared his throat and stuck his hoof out. “Cloudwalker. Nice to meet ya. You didn’t see me, but I saw you back in Appleloosa.”

She slowly reached out and shook his hoof. “You did?”

“Oh yeah. Remember that whole territory dispute? Big bison, small ponies, anvils, falling clock towers… I’m surprised no one got gored or had their skull caved in. Gotta hand it to that pink friend of yers. She made things way more interesting than they had any right to be.”

Twilight narrowed her eyes. “I never realized war was ‘interesting’.”

“Hey, come on, don’t make it sound like that,” he said, sounding hurt. “It’s the desert. Yer more likely to find water than excitement out there, and that was the most interesting thing to happen in decades! Didn’t Mort tell ya this already?”

“No, because she’s just finding this out,” Mort said. “I know she isn’t supposed to be here, but there was this accident, you see—”

“An accident? Is she feeling well?” This was asked by a rich and soothing voice. Its owner stepped forward, a short figure wearing a tribal mask much like the ones found in Zecora’s hut. Twilight could tell that something equine was wearing it, and he had telltale zebra stripes on his hindquarters. “With just her consciousness, it can be hard to tell.”

“Um, yes. I’m fine, thank you,” she said, struck by the concern he had.

“Her body’s still at the Golden Oaks Library in Ponyville, Du’a,” Mort explained. “It’s unharmed, just… she isn’t ‘home,’ you could say.”

Twilight wasn’t sure what to expect from the other shades when Mort told her about them. She half-expected more skeletons or nightmarish creatures, but many of them looked unintimidating, or were speaking in ways that almost sounded casual. Even the dragon had sounded relatively polite.

The “unintimidating” part was challenged when something began to buzz in front of her, and Twilight almost screamed at the sight of a giant fly. It wasn’t helped that, upon closer inspections, its skin was literally crawling with an assortment of black shapes.

“Poni never heer beefor,” it said, hovering around her. “Veri strange. Veri diffrent. Iz gud poni, tho. Usez magik element.” It looked at her a little longer, causing Twilight to bite her lip. “I skare poni?”

“J-just a little,” she admitted.

“Sari,” it said, and Twilight could’ve sworn it sounded disappointed.

“Oh, uh, it’s not you, it’s me,” she said, feeling guilty. “I appreciate the compliments. Really.”

“She’s still getting used to this, Motzebub,” Mort said. “Don’t worry, she knows you’re one of the best.”

Twilight hadn’t actually known that, but Motzebub seemed to perk up at this, and floated away. Mort then lenaed in close and whispered, “Thanks for saying that. He—they are kinda sensitive.”

She took another look at the crowd. She didn’t feel much animosity. They seemed more curious than anything. And she didn’t expect them to know her like this.

“I’m sorry, but did I miss something?” she asked. “Why does everyone know me?”

“The world owes you its peace of mind,” said the zebra shade. “‘For want of Twilight’, could history be defined.”

She stared at him blankly. “Huh?”

“He means you’re very significant,” Mort said. “When certain creatures consistently sway the chances of survival and success of those around them, we all tend to take notice.”

“Oh.” Twilight knew this wasn’t her body, but nonetheless it felt like her cheeks were burning. She knew she was partially a celebrity already, but she hadn’t realized it extended so far. “That’s… flattering?”

“You bet it is,” Cloudwalker laughed. “Seriously, do you know how many ponies would be dead if it weren’t for you?”

Twilight’s mouth opened in horror. “W-what—”

“We’re talkin’ hundreds, maybe thousands of ponies,” he said. “Just Nightmare Moon, okay? They’d be starving, or freezing, or getting executed, and that’s not including all the griffons, dragons, cows—”

He was, mercifully, stopped by Echo, who stuck her hoof in his mouth. “What Cloudwalker is trying to say is that a lot of creatures owe their lives to you and your friends.”

And she didn’t want to hear anymore of what could have happened. She was happier knowing what did.

Twilight looked the changeling shade up and down, trying to reassure herself with what Mort said. “You’re not… upset with me or anything, are you?” she asked.

“Why?” Echo pondered this for a moment. “Ooh, you mean how you and your family launched the changelings out of Canterlot and into the Badlands hundreds of miles away?”

Twilight gulped, and slowly nodded.

“Eh, no biggie,” Echo said, waving her hoof dismissively. “What were you supposed to do, lay down and die? It’s just circle of life stuff. And it’s not like they’re dead or anything.”

Twilight’s ears fell. “They’re not?”

“Nope! Chrysalis was even…” She scratched her chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, what was it she said? Oh, yeah!”

In the span of an eye blink, Echo vanished and was replaced by Queen Chrysalis, who shook her perforated hoof at the void. “Curse you, Twilight Sparkle! I’ll see to it that you and all you love pay dearly for this insult! I swear it!”

Another blink, and Echo was back, smiling innocently. “Or something like that,” she said, then broke into a singsong voice. “Somepony has a mortal enemy!”

“Uh, aren’t we saying too much?” This came from a diamond dog, one that was literally made of diamonds. “They’re not really supposed to know anything.”

Echo rolled her eyes. “Little late for that, I think.”

“Which brings us to our next question.” Cloudwalker was shoved away, and Twilight was confronted by the griffon from before, who glared at her from behind her mask. “How did you get here?”

Cloudwalker puffed his cheeks. “Keres, what’s the big—” He was silenced by the look he got, and Twilight could’ve sworn she saw his shape waver.

Keres returned her attention to Twilight. “What did you two do?”

“Nothing!” Twilight insisted.

“Now honey, it’s not nice to fib.” Twilight turned in shock to see her mother there. “You might as well just tell us what happened. It’ll make it easier on everypony.” The image of her mother walked behind her, and when she turned she was looking at her father. “You should listen to your mother, young lady!”

“Has anyone ever told you how creepy that is?” Twilight asked.

Her father vanished, replaced by Echo. “Hmm, not very often. The changelings aren’t the most invested audience. Mort, on the other hoof—” A dark blue color spread from the bottom of her hooves and seemed to burst out of the top of her head, forming a mane filled with stars and galaxies. “—can be way more fun,” she finished, swaying her hips suggestively.

Twilight’s jaw dropped, and Mort covered his eyes. “All the time,” he muttered in disgust. “She does this all the time.”

“L-look,” Twilight said, trying to keep her voice steady. “I know mistakes have been made. I know I’m not supposed to be here, so please, please, one of you has to help us! We can’t leave on our own!”

Keres seemed to roll her eyes and keep them there, staring upward.

Desperate, Twilight said, “I promise I won’t come here again! I won’t tell anypony about you, or this place, or even—”

“Thanasia.”

“Yes, not even…” That was when Twilight noticed that Keres hadn’t been the only one to roll her eyes up. All of them were looking above her now, towards the top of the pillar. Her heart filling with dread, she spun around.

Had Twilight not looked at the top of the pillar when she did, she wouldn’t have even noticed Thanasia’s entrance. There was no thunder to herald her arrival, no flashy display of fire or light to let everyone know she was there. There was just an empty space, and in an instant that space was filled by her.

The effect was almost immediate. The simpler shades all backed away, lowering their bodies submissively, while the more distinct and intelligent ones stood to attention, all looking very nervous. Mort began to shiver beside her, and Twilight soon followed suit as the ashen alicorn from her vision opened her eyes.

“What’s going on here?” she demanded, scanning the group. “Why are all of you…”

And that’s when she saw them. At first she said nothing, her golden eyes only flickering in surprise. Then they became a glare, and she jumped off the pillar. Without using her wings to slow her, she came crashing down on the tile, causing many of the shades to scatter and return to their tiles. The more intelligent shades were rooted to the spot, curiosity overpowering their instincts.

Thanasia looked down at her with so much contempt that it was a wonder her face remained so stoic. “What are you doing here?” she asked, each word encrusted with prickly ice.

Twilight opened her mouth to answer, but no words came out. She knew Mort said that Thanasia was bound by the same rules as her shades, but if she was the first pony here, could that warrant an exception?

“I asked you a question.” Thanasia stomped her hoof, creating a quake inside a chamber that caused Twilight and Mort to fall. The last of the more skittish shades fled, and the few left were watching in silence, occasionally sharing a nervous look. “What are you doing here?!”

Twilight looked at the shades, not knowing what to hope for. They were quietly navigating off to the sides so that they were not behind her, or rather so that they were not in Thanasia’s line of sight.

“What is the meaning of this?” Thanasia asked, focusing her attention on Mort. “What is she doing here? How did she get here?”

“I… we…” Mort sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I sent her here by accident.”

“What sort of accident?” she asked, her voice quiet but chilly.

“It was a magical accident,” Twilight said, coming forward. “Mort—”

“I did not ask you, Twilight Sparkle! Step away from Mort and stay there!”

Twilight looked uncertainly at Mort, who nodded vigorously. Slowly she backed up, and didn’t stop until Thanasia was looking at Mort again.

“Again,” she said. “What happened?”

“Twilight… Twilight saw through my disguise,” he explained, barely able to keep his voice even. “She panicked and used dispelling magic on me—”

“You attacked him?” Thanasia looked at Twilight, and she could do nothing but look down in shame.

“No, no, it wasn’t an attack,” Mort said quickly. “I wasn’t hurt or anything! It’s just… I think it somehow restored the link you severed earlier, and it ended up going to her.”

“Impossible,” Thanasia said. “My magic cannot be so easily reversed!”

“Well, not many ponies have a special talent in magic like Twilight. I-I’m sorry, I don’t mean to contradict you, but it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

Thanasia looked suspiciously at her. “Supposing this is true, then how did she end up here?”

“I don’t know the specifics, but when we got connected, I had to use my scythe to separate her from me. Somehow the remnants of her spell and my link got her connected to this place. I followed her here, and explained what happened—”

“Why?” Thanasia snapped. “You didn’t need to explain anything. All you had to do was take her back—”

“She was scared, alright?!” Mort covered his mouth, and quickly bowed his head. “I… I didn’t want to bring her back until her consciousness was more stable. That meant assuring her that she wasn’t dead, or going to die, or in any other form of danger. Ponies have never been here, and… and I didn’t want to take any chances on something going wrong.”

“Little late for that, too,” muttered Echo. A glare from Thanasia cowed her, and she looked away.

“So why haven’t you taken her back yet?” Thanasia asked.

“I tried!” he said. “But, but it isn’t working! This link, however it formed, I think it’s only one way! I… I don’t know how to get her back!”

This caused another round of murmuring in the crowd of shades, and with a flick of her hoof, Thanasia silenced them. “How many know?”

“Nopony else!” he said. “I swear, it’s just Twilight!”

“We’ll see.” Thanasia closed her eyes, her horn glowing the same color magic as Mort’s. From the crowd, she saw curtains of light drift up and then spiral towards Thanasia, wrapping around her horn. Her cutie mark glowed as well, and it seemed the flame grew a little taller.

Thanasia reopened her eyes. She looked at Twilight accusingly.

“I’ve just collected the data from several shades around and within Ponyville,” Thanasia said. “Your friends are on their way to the library as we speak.”

“T-they must’ve gotten worried,” she said. “I’ve been here so long—”

“No,” Mort said, sounding worried. “Time’s perceived much more quickly here than it is in the waking world. It couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes since you got here.”

That long? All those hours here, and it was still the middle of the afternoon. “Well, why are they—”

“Your dragon knows.”

Twilight’s head whipped around. “Spike? But he’s with Rarity!”

“Was with Rarity,” Thanasia corrected. “He stumbled upon you two after Mort followed you here.”

“Owlowiscious…” Mort smacked his forehead. “He was outside! He must’ve found Spike!”

“Yes, and it seems circumstances have conspired to bring your friends together at this critical point. They’ll be arriving in only a few minutes.”

“Which is why I need to bring her back!” Mort stepped forward and pointed at Twilight. “You can send us back—”

“Quiet, Mort.”

“—then we can calm her friends down and explain—”

“I said be quiet!”

He was. Thanasia turned away from her Mort with her head down, kneading the base of her skull. She took a breath, and turned back around.

“Do you realize what you’ve done?” she asked.

Mort didn’t say anything. He tried to move his head, but it came out as an undecipherable jerk.

“Let me make perfectly clear what has happened,” she said. “Twenty-four hours ago—less than a day, to be precise—only two ponies knew about us: Celestia and Luna. Within that time, not only has that number grown to potentially eight ponies plus one dragon, but you’ve even led one of them here to our front door step! You’ve exposed yourself in a way that you’ve never managed in the thousands of years in my service! This… holiday has managed to not even meet my lowest of expectations!”

“Thanasia—”

“No,” she said. “Not another word. It is over, Mort. You are to resume your normal duties immediately.”

Mort lowered his head. Twilight watched Thanasia, having the terrible feeling that she wasn’t through yet.

“In addition,” she continued, “I will be reevaluating our other arrangements.”

Mort went stiff, then looked back up. “Other arrangements?”

Twilight felt her heart drop. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t!

“Obviously your time with the princesses has caused more harm than good,” she said. “It was on their advice that we even attempted this, and look where it’s gotten us! I can no longer tolerate their influence if this is the result.”

“W-what’s that supposed to mean?” he asked desperately.

“It means,” she said, her patience wearing thin, “that you are not to see them for the foreseeable future.”

“B-but…” Mort’s body was trembling, on the verge of realizing what everyone else already knew. “H-how long is that supposed to be?”

Thanasia pressed her lips together before answering. “That depends on how long they live.”

Twilight gasped, struck speechless. She knew that’s what Thanasia had meant, and knew it was coming, but to still hear it in such stark terms...

Mort’s eyes widened, and seemed to fade. “No. No, please! You can’t do that!”

“And why not?” Thanasia demanded. “You are my shade, and my responsibility! I told you as much when we started this whole farce! And look what’s happened! How am I to trust you back in the living world? How am I to trust the princesses when their council put us in this situation in the first place?!”

“They’re my friends, Thanasia!”

“They are two ponies, Mort! The world will not end just because you can’t see them!”

Mort looked at her helplessly, then buried his face in his hooves. Twilight looked at the other shades, hoping to find some support, but many of them were either looking away or apathetic. Why weren’t they saying anything? Why wasn’t anyone coming to Mort’s defense? What was wrong with this place?!

“I will send you both back,” Thanasia said, looking at her. “You are to immediately disembark upon your return, and then I shall—”

“No.”

Thanasia stopped. Mort lifted his head from his hooves and looked at Twilight. The ashen alicorn narrowed her eyes, glaring daggers at her.

“Excuse me?”

“No,” Twilight repeated. She thought she should be afraid, but she couldn’t feel fear anymore. She was brimming with anger and defiance, and it had no way to go but out. “You can’t take him away from them!”

The alicorn bristled. “I am his creator,” she said. “I can do what I damn well please!”

“Well I’m his friend, and I say you can’t!”

Twilight had to admit that she got some satisfaction from the look of shock on Thanasia’s face. “You are his what?”

“You heard me!” She marched over to Mort and then led him away, with Thanasia too stunned to stop her. Mort followed clumsily, looking back and forth between the two. He spoke in short, broken sentences, trying to keep up with what had happened.

“T-Twilight, you can’t just tell her… you’re not supposed to… did you just say I’m your friend?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Of course I am.”

He dwelled on this. “And you’re not just saying this,” he said. “You actually—”

“I mean exactly what I said,” she said. Doubts began to surface. “Unless… you don’t want to be my friend,” she said, shrugging helplessly. “Not that I can blame you after all this.”

Mort didn’t do anything at first. Then he shook his head vigorously. When he spoke, his voice was full of emotion. “Of course I want you as a friend!”

“What is this foolishness?” Thanasia took a few steps toward them, and Twilight put herself between Thanasia and Mort. “What exactly are you expecting out of this? He can’t make you live longer. He can’t fight your enemies, or help save Equestria!”

“I know,” she said defiantly.

This seemed to catch her off guard. “Then is it guilt?” she asked. “Scientific curiosity? Are you afraid of failing the princesses?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why would you want to be his friend? I can understand the princesses wanting some kind of companion that can live as long as they do, but you have hundreds of ponies in your town alone to choose from. Why him?”

“What kind of question is that?” she asked. “I like being around him! He’s nice and considerate, and is always looking out for other’s feelings! He sees things in ways I never even thought of! I had fun listening about all the places he’s been, and my friends had fun playing games with him! He’s a good pony!” Even before she came to Ponyville, she had understood why ponies were friends with each other, even if she hadn’t interested in it at the time. Thanasia made friendship sound like some foreign concept.

“But you can’t benefit from him,” Thanasia insisted, her frustration growing more evident. “Being ‘friends’ with him gives you no special treatment. He will constantly be away, and be forbidden from helping you. He will not defeat your enemies, nor will he save your friends or family. Any one of them could die tomorrow, and he would do nothing to stop it.” Her eyes narrowed, as if she was staring into Twilight’s soul. “Are you truly okay with that?”

Twilight opened her mouth to answer, but found herself hesitating. When she tried to imagine Shining Armor, or Spike, or anyone else dying like that, it made her feel sick. If she knew someone had been there and done nothing, she wasn’t sure if she could forgive them. Mort was different, wasn’t he? There were so many other factors. And yet, when she tried to imagine it, she couldn’t stop feeling queasy, or that perhaps Mort should make an exception, or…

“No,” she admitted. “I don’t like it.”

For a fleeting moment, there was a grin on Thanasia’s face. Mort’s face fell.

“But,” she continued, “I would never blame Mort for it.”

Thanasia’s grin vanished, at the exact moment Mort lifted his head up.

“I wish it was different, but I understand why it is,” she explained. “Actually, if I had been in your hooves, I might’ve done the same thing.”

Thanasia blinked in surprise, then looked at her suspiciously. “You would?”

“Your shades are incredible, Thanasia. They’re easily some of the most marvelous creatures I’ve ever seen. The things they can do, the things they can see and experience, the fact that they can learn and grow, and acquire genuine thoughts and feelings of their own… it’s absolutely amazing! They are amazing!”

She could see some of the shades beaming with pride. Even Thanasia lost some of the hostility in her eyes.

“But I also understand that a lot of the things that make them so special can also make them dangerous. Giving them carte blanche to do whatever they want would just be asking for trouble. Not that they would,” she said, noticing some of the dirty looks, “but I understand the need to play it safe. Not even Celestia gives her guards the freedom to do anything they want.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that, I know why you can’t play favorites, and let some shades do whatever they want while telling the others they can’t. It’s all or nothing, and since letting all of them do whatever they want could mean trouble, then it has to be none of them.”

Cloudwalker whistled, sounding impressed. A moment later Thanasia was nodding her head slowly.

“Those are some astute observations,” she said. “And correct, as well. I must admit I’m a little impressed.”

“Thank you,” she said. “To be honest, Mort explained most of it to me earlier. He told me he can’t play favorites. I’m not expecting immortality or anything like that, so can you please hear me out?”

Thanasia looked contemplatingly at her, before saying, “Continue, then.”

She nodded. “Thanasia, am I correct to assume that you’re just worried about what will happen to Mort?”

Thanasia was silent, then said, “My concern is for all my shades, Twilight.”

“I understand,” she said, “but what I mean is, are you afraid I’m going to hurt him, or try to use him? Do you… do you think I have some kind of ‘angle’ to all this?”

“Most creatures do,” Thanasia said. “Everything you do is always guided in some part by self-interest, including these relationships you have. The more ponies you’re on good terms with, the more options and help you’ll have in life. That’s why I find this insistence that you’re his ‘friend’ to be rather dubious. He can’t be there for you the same way other ponies can, and he’s expressly forbidden from helping in ways that most ponies would absolutely want.”

“But that isn’t what friendship is all about,” Twilight said. “It’s not just give-and-take. Friendships can form for a variety of reasons, whether it’s just a common hobby or because they can have fun with each other. If a friend genuinely can’t help in some way, then a real friend would understand that. If a friend stops doing something they once both enjoyed, then a real friend would understand that, too. Mort doesn’t have to give me special treatment to be my friend. Just being himself would be enough!”

“Would your friends see it the same way?”

“Maybe not right away,” she said, “but I’m confident that with enough time and understanding, I think they can be friends with Mort, too. We were all getting along so well recently, and it’s not like Mort’s a monster or anything. He just has very different responsibilities.”

Thanasia’s face was impassive. It was a step up from the signs of anger earlier, but Twilight wasn’t sure if it was her speech that was doing it. She took a deep breath.

“Thanasia,” she said. “I know you only want to protect Mort. You think taking him away from the princesses and me would help, but I think it’s only going to hurt him more. Even if he can find friends among the other shades, he’s been with Celestia for most of her life, and Luna’s just gotten back after being gone for a thousand years! I’m begging you, if you can’t trust him around me or my friends, then please… at the very least, please allow him to keep seeing the princesses! Don’t punish them for something I did.”

She bowed her head in respect, and held her metaphorical breath for Thanasia’s response. The chamber was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

“No.”

Twilight’s head snapped up, her jaw dropping at the same time her heart did. She tried to say something, but nothing came out. She looked desperately at Mort, who could only bow his head.

“But...” Twilight forced her mouth to move, trying to form words. “But you can’t—”

“I just did,” she said. “A speech, no matter how passionate or well-intended, does not erase the risk posed by Mort’s identity being known. To merely assume that things will work out is nothing short of naive, and I must act by what is most likely.” Thanasia sat down and closed her eyes. “I am now forming the spell that will send you two back. Remain silent. This will not take long.”

Thanasia may as well have bucked her in the gut. Twilight collapsed on the tile, and looking at the carving of the sleeping alicorn, itself ignorant of the tragedy going on above it. What was she going to tell her friends? Would she be allowed to? If Mort was going away forever, would it even matter? What could she tell Celestia or Luna?

Twilight looked at Mort, who kept his back to her. Twilight couldn’t even begin to imagine what was going through his mind, nor was she sure she wanted to. He was probably so angry with her. She could never be his friend. Not after this.

Thanasia continued to speak under her breath, reminding Twilight that the time they had let was slipping away. “Is it… is it okay if I say something before I go?” she asked.

Thanasia opened one eye, looked at her in annoyance, then closed it again. “Make it quick.”

Twilight couldn’t even muster up any feelings of anger at her. She’d already messed everything else up today. She wouldn’t ruin this.

She walked up to him. “Mort?”

Mort looked up, then turned around wordlessly. His eyes were dim now, barely visible. Twilight almost looked away, but forced herself to keep looking at him.

“I…” The words got stuck in her throat. Two simple, easy words, that did not feel nearly enough for all this. “I’m sorry, Mort.”

She half-feared he’d shoot back with a bitter retort, but instead he stayed silent. That was worse, in some ways.

“I’m… I’m so sorry, about everything,” she said, feeling her eyes tear up. Was her body doing the same thing right now? “I-I didn’t mean for this to happen. I swear if I knew, I…” She held a hoof to her mouth, her body shaking with sobs. “This is all my fault.”

Mort stood there frozen. Slowly, he approached her, raising his hoof. She thought he was going to strike her, but instead he wrapped it around her shoulders and brought her into a hug.

She was too shocked to do anything at first. Eventually, she lifted her forelegs and wrapped them around his shoulders, returning the hug. She scrunched her eyes close, squeezing tears out.

“It’s... it’s okay, Twilight,” he said, patting her her back. “This isn’t your fault.”

She buried her head into his shoulder, crying softly. “Yes it is.”

“No,” he stated firmly, and leaned back so he was looking her straight in the eye. “You were right. This wouldn’t have happened if you knew what was really going on. We… I only have myself to blame for that.”

“How…” She sniffed, wiping her nose out of habit. “How am I going to face Celestia or Luna when I get back? They’re going to hate me for this!”

“Don’t be silly,” he said. “Come on, we both know them better than that. They’re not going to hate you.”

“Well maybe they should!” she snapped. “They trust me with you, and look what happened! They’re not going to see you for who knows how long, and you can’t even...”

“Hey, hey, look at me,” he said. “Everything’s going to be okay, alright? You know me, I’ll always see somepony one last time.”

“But that’s only after…” She trailed off, unwilling to finish the sentence.

“True,” he said. “But… it’s better than nothing, right? I’ll always be nearby, and maybe… maybe when I see you again, we can swap stories! You could even follow me for a little bit, see the sights and everything. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Twilight shook her head, rubbing her eyes. “That’s… that’s not going to be for a long time, Mort.”

“I’ll wait,” he said. “We’re friends, right? If it means seeing you, or Celestia, or Luna again, I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

She sniffed. He shouldn’t have to wait. He shouldn’t have to be waiting there at the end. He should be spending as much time with them as possible.

“When you see Celestia and Luna again, tell them…” Mort shut his eyes, and were he flesh and blood, Twilight could easily envision him fighting back tears. “Please… p-please tell them that I’ll always remember the time we’ve spent together, and… a-and I hope to see them after a long, and fruitful life.”

Twilight nodded. “I promise.”

“And please, please don’t…” He took a shuddering breath. “P-please, don’t blame Thanasia for this.”

Twilight felt her jaw drop open. She quickly looked at Thanasia, and perhaps it was just her imagination, but the alicorn seemed to have frowned for a second.

“But Mort,” she said in disbelief. “She’s the one—”

“I know, Twilight, but… but she’s just doing her duty, like me. It’s not personal or anything, she’s just…. she’s just looking out for all of us. I can’t even imagine what it’d be like to be in her hooves, and have so much riding on her. That’s not an easy weight to carry.”

Twilight risked another glance. Thanasia had lifted her head up high, and Twilight couldn’t see any sign of her face. It wouldn’t surprise her if Thanasia was secretly gloating.

“You really believe that?” she asked.

“I do,” he said. “It goes beyond belief, or trust, or anything like that. I know she’s always acting in our best interests. I don’t always agree with her, but she isn’t out to hurt anypony. She’s only doing what’s best for us, and… and she did agree to let this holiday happen, remember? She didn’t have to, but she did. It’s… it’s not her fault I screwed up.”

Twilight bit her lip, forcing down a tirade of angry words. Thanasia was taking him away from his best friends for who knew how long, and he was defending her! Few things made her feel as sick as that thought did.

But if this was going to be her last meeting, she didn’t want it to end like that. Every word counts.

“I’ll… I’ll tell them you said that,” she said.

“Thank you,” he said, sounding so relieved it made Twilight’s heart ache. “And please tell your friends I’m sorry about hiding this from them. They’re good ponies, and… and I hope that when I see them again, it’ll be many years down the road, too.”

Twilight sniffed, feeling her tears start up again. “I will.”

“Spike, too,” he said. “He’s not my jurisdiction or anything, but I want to see him again, too. You’re both lucky to have each other. With you around, I’m sure he’ll be a fine dragon when he grows up.”

Twilight squeezed her eyes shut. “I will,” she choked.

“Okay then.” He turned to face his maker, and took a deep breath. “Thanasia?”

Thanasia opened her eyes. “Yes?”

“We’re…” He looked at Twilight for confirmation, and all she could do was nod. “We’re ready.”

“I… see.” She sounded distracted, and Twilight wondered if she had even listened to a word that was said. Again, she had to force herself from saying something she would regret.

Thanasia took a few steps forward, then stopped. She lifted her head, her horn gathering magic. Her eyes swiveled down to look at Twilight. “Twilight Sparkle?”

“What?” It came out harsher than she intended, but Thanasia seemed to pay little notice.

“Before I send you back, I have a question,” she said. “Does one learn more when things go right, or when things go wrong?”

What did this have to do with anything? “When things go wrong. It implies we have more to learn.”

“More than that,” Thanasia said. Her horn now brimmed with magic. “Mistakes are inevitable, and plans rarely remain unchanged. When my prophecies are wrong, not only do I make the necessary corrections, I reevalute my methods so that the prophecies are more accurate in the future. Similarly, a good general will quickly adapt to a changing battlefield, a good doctor will be prepared for a decline in a patient’s health, and a good leader will be able to remain in control and take charge, even in the face of disaster.”

She lowered her head, until her eyes were level with Twilight’s. Twilight stared back, unflinching.

“Your friends are going to find out what Mort is very soon,” she said. “That is inevitable. Soon after, they’re going to tell Ponyville what happened, and then they will know. There will be panic and hysteria in the streets, and word may spread from Ponyville to the other towns and cities.”

Twilight continued to stare, now feeling confused. What was the point of this? Was it just to make her feel guilty, or—

“I give you until sundown.”

Twilight finally blinked, confused. “I’m sorry?”

“Sundown, Twilight,” she said. “My concerns are two-fold: that your friends may spread knowledge of Mort to other ponies, and that everyone aside from them will soon know that the Pale Pony is real. You are to show me, by sundown, that these concerns are unfounded. Consider it an assignment, if you must.”

Twilight’s mouth opened and closed. Did this mean what she thought it meant? “I… I don’t…”

“Then let me explain it in a way most relevant to you,” she said. “If you can complete this assignment to my satisfaction, then I am willing to reconsider my earlier judgement.”

Twilight gasped, wondering if she understood that correctly. “Y-you mean, Mort won’t—”

“I will not forbid him from seeing the princesses,” she said. “And maybe even you, for that matter.”

“Y-you mean it?” Mort asked.

“Before this all started, I was certain that a pony discovering you would only lead to disaster,” she said. “I am still strongly inclined to believe that, but I never expected anypony, short of the princesses, to come to your defense so strongly. Twilight has proven otherwise, it seems, and looking back, she has a strong habit of beating the odds. Now I give her one chance to do so again.”

Twilight was stunned. “I… I-I don’t know what to say.”

“I do!” Mort skipped over to Thanasia. “Thank you! Thank you so—”

He was stopped by Thanasia’s hoof, who kept him grounded. “Again, I stress that I must be satisfied with the result,” she said, motioning for him to stand back. She lowered her head, pointing her horn at them. “Well, Twilight Sparkle? Can you show me that Celestia and Luna are correct to believe in you?”

“I will!” She and Mort quickly stood side-by-side, and Twilight could feel her heart filling with hope. “I promise!”

The ends of Thanasia’s lips turned upward, and Twilight realized she was smiling.

“Surprise me,” she said, and then the magic was shot at the two of them—

—and she woke up, gasping for air. She quickly searched her body, particularly around the area where Thanasia struck her. Though she felt a tingling, there was no pain, and more importantly, no actual wound. Books were strewn out around her, which meant she was back in the library.

She shut her eyes and moaned, feeling a wave of dizziness wash through her. Her brain felt like it was suffering whiplash. Despite that, it was good to feel her heart beating inside her chest. She couldn’t tell if it was beating rapidly, or if it just felt like that after only feeling it beat once every few minutes. She breathed in the air, and it tasted of mildew and oak.

“Twilight?” She twisted her head to the left, and saw Mort looking at her. His eyes had returned to their usual level of brightness, which matched how she felt. “You okay?”

“Yes!” She hugged him, feeling the bones that were underneath this entire time. Admittedly creepy, but she didn’t care.

“Whoa, whoa!” he laughed, picking himself up. “Let’s not celebrate yet. We got a lot of work to do, remember?”

Twilight gasped. He was right! Thanasia had said there were only a couple minutes, and just now she must’ve wasted fifteen seconds. She looked around and despaired at the state of the library. Every shelf was empty, and she could barely see the floor anymore. She couldn’t walk anywhere without stepping on a book.

“We have to clean this up!” she said, levitating a few books. “Except there’s just so many, and… oh no, there’s no way we can clean this up in time!”

“Leave that to me,” he said, taking a position in the center of the room. He raised his head, his horn glowing with magic. “Mind your hooves!”

Twilight was getting ready to ask what he was going to do when the light of Mort’s magic spread across the floor. Soon, books and scrolls were being lifted off the ground. Twilight watched in awe as scrolls were rolled up, maps were folded, and books were closed, but not before the pages had their creases flattened.

Even before the floor was clear, everything was being shuffled and organized. Books were pushed flat against each other, and maps and scrolls were balanced on top of one another in pyramids. Not once did Mort look up. He kept his head down, as if in a trance. With his horn glowing bright in the center of it all, it looked like a star system with books instead of planets.

There was a brief moment when everything floated in place, perfectly still. Then, all at once, they were pushed forward, gracefully sliding into the book shelves. Twilight was so entranced, she almost didn’t see some miscellaneous papers and quills being packed neatly into a nearby desk drawer.

The green light faded. The first floor of the library now looked exactly as it had when she left this morning. She checked, too: she trotted along the bookshelves, reading off titles and authors, comparing it to her own mental blueprint. Everything was where it should be. Even the books that had been leaning were doing so in the exact way she remembered.

“This… this is incredible,” Twilight said, walking along the shelves. “You actually remembered where everything went?”

“We shades have excellent memory,” he said proudly. “Helps quite a bit with the prophecies.”

“This is good,” she said, looking at the clock. How long did that take? Ten seconds? Less than fifteen, certainly. “This is really, really good. Now we just need a story.”

“A story? But Thanasia said—”

“I know, but maybe my friends won’t find out,” she said, pulling some books on magic out. She had to make the impression that they had been studying. “We can tell Spike we knocked ourselves out with an illusion spell, or that maybe we were doing brain communication, or… I don’t know, something!”

“Okay, okay,” he said. “Just kinda feel sorry for Spike, I guess. He’s not wrong or anything.”

“No, he’s not.” Twilight sighed. “Maybe… maybe I’ll have Pinkie Pie cook him a gem-encrusted cake. One with fried worms and extra salt, and I know that sounds weird, but…”

She looked at Mort, who stood patiently near the center of the room. Something was off, she realized. Something was missing, she just wished she—

“Where’s your medallion?”

Mort blinked. “Huh?”

“Your medallion,” she said, looking under the center table. “You know, the one that hides your face?”

“Oh, that’s…” Mort looked along the ground, his eyes widening in horror. His horn glowed and looked all around the bottom floor, before turning his panicked eyes to Twilight. “It’s not here!”

“How can it not be here?!” She looked along the shelves, but knew it was futile. The way Mort saw the world, if he said something wasn’t there, then it wasn’t there. “I know it was in the library before I lost consciousness!”

“I don’t know!” he said, his horn still scanning the room. Even shades were susceptible to denial. “I didn’t put it on, but I know it was here! It couldn’t have just walked away!”

They stopped searching at the same time. They looked at each other, realization hitting both at once.

“Spike!”

And then there was a knock on the door.

They all arrived at the library a minute later. Rarity stood in front of the door, finding herself hesitating. She put a hoof on the doorknob, and felt a chill run up her foreleg. She knocked on the door.

“Twilight?” she called, extending one ear towards the door. “Are you okay, dear?”

When there was no answer, she looked back at the others. They all looked the way she felt, nervous and uncertain. Swallowing, Rarity pushed the door open, and they walked inside.

Already, she was beginning to feel foolish. One of the things Spike told her was that the ground floor was a mess, buried under every book available. She remembered how long it took to clean up the last couple of times that happened, and yet now the ground floor looked relatively spotless, no different than when they left it this morning.

And there were Twilight and Mort, up and about like nothing was wrong. They were standing beside each other and reading a book when they walked in. Twilight turned around upon hearing them, and trotted up to them, flashing a white smile.

Rarity should’ve felt relieved then, but instead she only felt more troubled. Twilight’s smile was big, toothy, and strained. Rarity had seen it only a few time before, and in all those cases, it said, “I’m fake.”

“Hey, girls! How is everypony?” She glanced from one pony to the next, beads of sweat rolling down her face.

“Twilight!” Spike ran from Rarity before she could stop him, and the little dragon wrapped his arms around Twilight’s leg, looking unwilling to let go any time soon.

“We’re, uh, fine, Twilight.” Rarity looked uncertainly at the others, confirming that they found the situation odd as well. It wasn’t just the smile. There just seemed to be something in the air that put them on edge. In fact, it felt an awful lot like the first time Mort stepped inside.

Speaking of Mort, he seemed to be quite interested in that book. He had yet to look away from it even once. Rarity recalled Spike’s words about a skull, and felt her heart beginning to pound. Why wasn’t he looking their way?

“We, ah, heard some might queer stories from Spike recently,” Applejack said, also looking at Mort. “Is everythin’ alright here, sugarcube?”

“Everything’s perfect,” she said, still smiling. “We’re just taking a little break from the magic lessons.”

“Oh… kay…” Rainbow Dash looked at Applejack, and it was clear they weren’t convinced.

“T-Twilight?” Fluttershy stepped forward, her knees shaking. “I-is everything o-okay with Mort?”

“Of course everything’s fine!” she said with forced cheeriness. “Although, I am thinking of getting back to the lesson, so if you could all just step outside—”

“Hold up, Twilight!” Rainbow Dash swooped down, hovering in front of her. “What’s going on here?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, still flashing her teeth at them.

“Twilight, what’s with you?!” Spike peeked out from Twilight’s leg to look at Mort. “You were knocked out and everything!”

“Oh, Spike, you’re being silly,” she said through clenched teeth. “We were just tired from a spell, that’s all.”

“That’s doesn’t explain him being a skeleton!”

Twilight laughed, and Rarity had been with Twilight long enough to tell the real ones from the fakes ones. “Oh my goodness, he’s got an imagination, doesn’t he?”

Rarity looked at Mort again. He still had yet to even acknowledge their existence. Rarity thought back to the dressing room, and how he continued to hide behind a dressing screen, and then he got into the sun…

“Mort, could you be a dear and turn around?”

Mort flinched, and then Twilight stepped in front of Rarity. “Oh, you wouldn’t want to do that,” Twilight said, with another fake laugh. “I didn’t want to say anything, but there was this, uh, accident earlier, and he has all these warts on his face now.”

“Ah can handle a few warts,” Applejack said. “Ah’d just feel a lot better if he looked at us.”

“Yeah,” Rainbow Dash said. “I think it’s time we got a clear look at the guy.”

“Oh, come on girls!” Twilight’s smiling facade crumbled, and now she was just angry. “He’s sensitive about his appearance, remember? Just give us a few minutes alone, and—”

“I’m sorry, dear, but not this time.” Rarity strode past Twilight, flanked by both Applejack and Rainbow Dash. She ignored Twilight’s calls to stop, and kept her attention on Mort, who was trembling so hard it sounded like he was rattling. Applejack roughly grabbed his shoulder and spun him around, but he kept his head bowed and… did his horn always look like that?

Rarity gulped, and called forth her magic, wrapping it around the edges of Mort’s hood. Well, she always did want to know what was underneath, right? She pulled back—

—and immediately wished she hadn’t. It took everything she had, plus her quickly paleing hooves, to not scream at the sight. Under the hood rested a skull, its eternal grin seemingly directed at them.

Spike’s earlier warnings were not enough to lessen the horror she felt. She had assumed that, at the very worst, Mort’s face was just disfigured, and Spike’s imagination had taken over. She hadn’t imagined his head would be a literal skull.

“Celestia have mercy…” Applejack breathed.

“This is bad,” Rainbow Dash said, her teeth grinding together. “T-this is very, very bad.”

“I-I told you so,” Spike said, sounding far meeker than he did on the way here.

“W-w-what happened?” Fluttershy asked, sounding on the brink of tears. “W-w-what did they do? I-is Mort… is Mort…”

“Wearing the coolest mask I’ve ever seen!” Pinkie Pie suddenly darted forward, almost knocking everypony over. “Wow, I knew Derpy said it was good, but I didn’t know it was this good!”

“Pinkie, stop!” Twilight shouted.

Rarity finally found her voice. “Pinkie, for Celestia’s sake, don’t touch it!”

“You silly fillies need to relax!” Pinkie Pie said, without a care in the world. “Come on, I see masks like these all the time! See, there’s this cloth to make you think he’s empty, but if you put your hooves here and pull, then the mask just pops right—”

Pop.

“—off?” The last word came out as a squeak, and Pinkie’s eyes dilated. She held Mort’s head in her hooves, completely separated from the body. Within the confines of the hood, Rarity could see the spinal cord sticking out from a ribcage. The others gaped at the horrifying spectacle, completely speechless.

All of this would have been enough to give Rarity several sleepless nights, and a strong aversion to any skeleton props or costumes for years to come. But then Mort’s sockets lit up, and he peered down at the pony that just decapitated him. His voice echoed from within.

“I can explain.”

His voice was the catalyst for Rarity’s most primal instincts. She screamed, as did her friends and Pinkie Pie, who threw his head high into the air. Almost immediately they ran towards the library door. Had they timed it any other way, they would’ve gotten stuck in the doorway, but Rainbow Dash was already out, followed by Pinkie Pie and Applejack. Rarity was the fourth one out, and she ran down the street screaming as much as her throat would allow.

All rational thought was overridden. Many of her concerns were, if not forgotten, than stashed away for later. Her hair was standing on end and she was terrified of looking back, lest she see that skull again. Now she was running on one, simple thought process: there was danger, and she had to get away from the danger. That meant running home, not just to protect herself, but her sister as well.

Never had her home seemed so far away.

“No! Wait! Everypony, come back!”

Mort watched Twilight stand in her doorway, yelling for her friends, but it was clear they wouldn’t be returning on their own. Mort glanced up at his horn, embedded in the ceiling. He wiggled his skull, and dislodged himself. Below, his body was already waiting for him.

“Twilight, we gotta get out of here!” Mort tightened his head, and spotted Spike tugging desperately at Twilight’s tail, all the while looking fearfully at him. Owlowiscious was hovering in front of her, daring Mort to come forward.

“Spike, please!” Twilight levitated Spike off the ground and deposited him on her back. She looked apologetically at Mort. “I guess Thanasia was right after all.”

“We got until sundown, remember?” he said, trying to sound calmer than he actually was. “We’ll just need to find them before they tell too many ponies.”

Twilight steeled her face, and nodded. “Right.”

“‘Right’? What do you mean ‘right’?! Twilight, what’s going on?!” Spike pointed a finger at him. “Why isn’t this freaking you out?!”

“Where’s his medallion, Spike?”

“Huh?”

“His medallion, Spike! The one with the moonstone!”

“Oh, uh…” He scratched the back of his head. “I-I don’t know, I think I forgot it at Rarity’s?”

“Then that’s where we’re headed!” She nodded at Mort. “Stay here, Mort! I will fix this!”

“I believe you.”

She smiled, belying the anxiety she felt herself, and galloped out the door, with Spike barely holding on and Owlowiscious close behind.

Mort sat down in the quiet library. He could understand staying here, but Twilight was only one pony, and some of her friends were very fast. What was to stop Rainbow Dash from rushing to the police station, or even Canterlot? It was quite the distance, but she could probably make it on adrenaline alone. He know he was told to stay here, but maybe...

His eyes drifted to his left, and he gasped in shock. Fluttershy was staring at him in complete silence. The yellow pegasus hadn’t budged since Mort’s head popped off.

“Fluttershy?” Mort approached her slowly, waiting for her to freak out like the others. She didn’t. “You’re… not going to run away?”

When she didn’t say anything, Mort felt heartened. So not everypony was scared of him! If Fluttershy could stay this calm, then maybe…

Except everything he knew about Fluttershy told him that this wasn’t normal behavior for her. She should’ve been the first one out the door. So why was she still here?

“Fluttershy?” He gently poked her, and Fluttershy tilted over and landed on her side, stiff as a statue. She continued to stare vacantly into space.

Mort could only sigh.

Author's Note

And after nearly a year, the chapter is out!

Thank you everyone for all your patience! Once again, I can't stress enough how sorry I am that this wasn't released much sooner. I know some have asked why I didn't just put the story in Hiatus, but truth was I didn't feel that was completely accurate. I have been working on the chapter, even at bits and pieces at a time, and never really "stopped" working on it. I'm really glad to finally get it out there, and hope everyone enjoys the results.

In the upcoming days I'll be posting all the old versions, deleted scenes and what not on my DA account, so keep an eye on my FimFiction blog. I'll be posting the links there, and will try to include some commentary on why some scenes couldn't fit, or why my first versions of the chapter wasn't used.

I would also like to extend a thank you not only to my usual editors, but also to Unimpressive Vagaries, who assisted with the editing here.

Have a great day!

Meet Mort

From Terry Trotchett's A Concise History of Equestria:

“If you were to ask some ponies what they thought of Equestria, there would typically be one of three responses.

Most would happily go on about how it's the most beautiful land they've ever laid eyes on. When its lush, sprawling forests aren't meeting you at every turn, you're instead walking through flat, green plains that are punctuated with fields of flowers both unique and sweetly fragrant. The animals, use to the care of the equine inhabitants, are incredibly friendly and would like nothing more than to nuzzle up against some passerby. Not to mention that, for the most part, the citizens are a kind and hospitable lot.

And Celestia's nice, too.

The second, and far more uncommon, response, is that Equestria is more than a little dangerous, with its habit of attracting not just the sweet, woodland creatures, but also the more dangerous, and often predatory, monsters that tower over your average pony, and just as often sporting a mouth big enough to swallow them whole. That they're mostly cooped up in the Everfree Forest is of little comfort, as the practically organic environment seems to envelop a little more of Equestria each year, and there's a disturbing trend of them coming out for one reason or another to incite panic, destroy both private and public property, and cause general mayhem. (Particularly on Fridays.) The equine citizens are still nice, though are looked at as being in denial of just how terrifying the land really was.

And Celestia's nice, though they think she should be a little more proactive in monster control.

The third response, even more uncommon than the second one, is that Equestria is lazy at best, manipulative at worst. After all, they'll tell you, just about everything about it has to be done by some other pony. The passage of night and day, the weather, the seasons, even the animals are dictated when to hibernate and when to head south. In their opinion, Equestria is more-than-capable of doing any of these things on its own, but at some point decided to shove the responsibilities onto its very kind, but very naïve, inhabitants. They would argue that if ponykind simply stopped picking up for its slack, Equestria might rise up and move its own celestial objects, change its own seasons, make its own weather, and if they're lucky, do the dishes.

Also, Celestia's nice, but she's suffering terribly from “beaten wife” syndrome, the poor thing.

While the third responders are the source of much derision and ridicule (because how could a world ever make its own wind without ridiculously huge wings?), they do bring up a key aspect (though, again, some would call it a “problem”) about Equestria: virtually everything about it is moderated by some other, sentient creature.

There is not one, natural process that does not have some being overlooking its operations. Not the sun, not the moon, not the weather, not the passage of seasons, not even the process that Hoofster described as “that uncomfortable thing that will eventually happen to you, that involves the cessation of breath, vital organs, and having your relatives explain to your foals that you're either sleeping, going on a trip, or taking up a long-term job that involves examining a coffin from the inside. While buried.”

Or as many others know it, death.*

*For more information about the cessation of breath and vital organs, uncomfortable explanations, etc etc, and all it entails, please turn to page 1,267.”

*****

The moon hung in the night sky, its sickle shape still able to bask the land below it in an eerie glow. A land that was, at the moment, enthralled in an almost barbaric ritual of screaming ponies, lurid dancing, and liquid concoctions of questionable taste, all surrounding a giant altar of wood and metal, where there would blare blasphemous words and unequine melodies from gaudy, perverse idols.

Yes, in spite of protests from some neighboring cults, “Hoovestock: An Equestrian Exposition,” had proven to be an unquestionable success.

A large field had been chosen for the festival, and within days, thousands had come to attend, setting up tents to either sleep in, sell merchandise from, or both. The tents were mostly on the outskirts, as further inward, there was nothing but a kaleidoscopic vortex of cheering fans and stomping hooves. Thousands upon thousands of ponies from some of the furthest corners of Equestria, gathered around a giant stage to hear their favorite bands perform. It was the last night of the festival, everypony knew it, and the fact may have attributed them to being even more loud and raunchy than the previous nights.

From across the surroundings plains, a dark figure approached the festival. He moved at a steady, calculated pace, never straying from his chosen path. He only began to slow down as he got within a hundred yards of the crowd, and came to a complete stop just before the first ponies, who mingled on the outskirts of the festival.

On first sight, he looked like any normal pony. He definitely had an equine shape that could be barely made out from the black cloak around his body, a cloak that didn't so much hang as it poured. And the horn that jutted through the top of his hood could easily belong to any unicorn, even if it were moderately scythe-shaped and, upon closer inspection, sharper then any blade that could possibly be forged, whether by earthly or mystical means.

He even looked like a pony under his hood, so long as one ignored the fact that normal ponies would have the decency of wearing skin, blood and muscle over their skeletal heads, and use normal, jelly eyes instead of burning, red dots that could be mistaken for fire pits from a distance.

He had gone by many names over the millennia, or rather, he had gone by many titles. The Pale Pony (of Death) was a common one, as was The Skull Stallion, and occasionally The Rogue Reaper. Some had even called him The Grim Galloper, though he personally thought they were taking their fondness for alliteration a little too far with that one. And, of course, there was just “Death.”

He, personally, preferred to go by Mort.

Right now, though, nopony would be asking for his name, largely because they would actually need to see him first. Mort was as incognito as one could become without ceasing to exist entirely: he was less visible than the air, more silent than the vacuum of space, and had all the physical presence of a sunbeam. He was a quintessential ghost.

He stood at the edge of a teeming, mass of ponies, gauging them. He always had a little trouble wrapping his mind around the concept of these activities. The goals were often very nebulous, they had the most bare-bones of scheduling, and they seemed to operate on a principle that equated more ponies to being more “fun.” He wasn't sure how; from where he stood it looked to be an utterly chaotic mess, and yet, somehow, it often worked. There were some things about the species he felt he would never understand.

After taking a breath (or rather, imitating the action of taking a breath, as he didn't have lungs), he proceeded into the crowd. Out here the ponies were relatively sparse, giving him ample room as he walked towards his destination. His eyes caught tents where they were selling trinkets, pictures, instruments, and of course, food. Food that, from what he could perceive, was probably well beyond any state considered edible, much less healthy, though the ones eating it didn't seem to mind. Just another odd quirk about them.

As he moved in closer, the crowd began to thicken, and he became more careful with how he approached and where from, to avoid getting too close to any pony. Every so often, though, some equine would stumble in their euphoria, and as a result an errant hoof or flank would graze through him. The stumblers, almost immediately, would have the sudden feeling they were being watched, question just what their purpose was in the universe, and suffer from a heavy feeling of dread. These thoughts and feelings, though, were fleeting at best on their own. Even more so with the addition of alcoholic beverages, a roaring crowd and deafening music.

Despite that, Mort would always utter a quick apology, even if they couldn't hear it anyway, and continue on his way. All creatures, on some spiritual level, knew when he was around, and the slightest of touches was enough to put almost anything on edge. Few living beings were comfortable in his presence, and he did his best to cordially respect this fact by avoiding them. A difficult thing to do inside crowds.

And as Mort soon saw, it would be especially difficult when presented with several thousands ponies, packed into a piece of land only a few acres large. The closer he got, the more it seemed he was not moving through a crowd, but a sea of equine flesh. He paused for a moment to glance at his surroundings, feeling like a rat in a maze. The stage was easy enough to see, and simple to get to, provided he walked through a hundred ponies on the way there. Grazing them was one thing, but to pass through them completely could really ruin the good vibes they had going.

Not that it really mattered, he thought. All of them were going to be pretty upset one way or another soon enough. He wouldn't be here otherwise...

He shook the cynical thought from his head, and focused at the task at hoof. There was a herd of ponies between him and the stage. If he wanted to get through them, he needed to look at it from another angle.

And he knew just who to ask.

He raised his horn into the air, his mind reaching outside his ethereal form. In front of him a pony flipped a peanut into the air, opening his mouth to catch it. The peanut slowed in its descent, grinding to a halt along with the rest of the world around him. Color and sound dulled before vanishing altogether from his senses. He felt himself beginning to float off the ground, though quickly remembered that it was merely an illusion. His body was still in Hoovestock. His mind, however, would be taking a little trip.

The collective shade subconscious was, as always, quite empty. It was a quintessential sea of chaos, almost devoid of anything. As he flew through it, Mort would occasionally hear the almost mechanical buzzing of a simple shade, using nothing but the instincts it was given at creation. Once or twice, he was certain he heard a stream of consciousness, most likely from another intelligent shade. He was tempted to get closer to see who it was, or if it were a shade that had just gained sentience, but decided against it. Not only was it kind of rude, he was also afraid they might detect him if he did. And there were some shades he did not want to anger.

It was easy enough to find his destination. It shone in the void like a beacon, attracting him much like a moth to a flame. It did not matter where in Equestria he did this, he would always feel its pull, instinctively knowing where to go. Normally, he would feel the others as well, moving towards it in swarms. However, it wasn't quite time for them to show up yet. It meant a much quieter trip, but it also meant he was going to be alone with Her.

The light grew brighter the closer he got, and he could see what was flowing into it. It was collected by the shades unconsciously, continuously being gathered and transmitted at every moment in their travels. “Data” was the best way to describe it, weaved in a way that most creatures wouldn't even be able to conceive, much less practice. Not even Mort could make much of it, as his kind was only made to collect it, not understand it. The last time he tried, his mind had been completely overwhelmed by the precise details of what he had learned to be flowers. It was the last time he ever tried something like that. (Incidentally, he also couldn't look at a flower anymore without feeling oddly ashamed and dirty.)

He dove into the light, and for an instant was bombarded with what may have been everything, from the shifting of the earth itself to the flapping of a butterfly's wing. A thousand details in one instant would be joined by another thousand details, all jumbling together into an incomprehensible mass of information. Just as he was fearing that his mind would be overwhelmed again, the light dimmed, and with it the knowledge as well.

He found himself in a familiar environment. It was enormous in size, so much that the walls and ceilings could not be seen. The floor was decorated with stone tiles of varying size and shape, all depicting a different creature. His, in particular, had the pony race, with the earth pony, pegasus and unicorn chasing each other in a circle. In the center of them was an alicorn, which always filled Mort with a sense of unease. Dotting the room were torches, with green flames of the same color and hue as his own magic, distributed evenly across the floor.

In the center of the room was an enormous podium that stretched towards the gathering of data above. The surface of the podium was covered with tiny images that would constantly shift every moment, representing another “snapshot” of Equestria as it was. One moment it would show a pony being chased by timberwolves, then it would be replaced by a bird flying through the air, and then that would be replaced by a spider building its web. No event was ever too miniscule. A creature's life was a fragile thing, and every moment counts.

She stood on top top of the podium, a titan in this subconscious realm, the data swirling above Her like a miniature star. As bright as that was, however, she was still veiled in shadow. Every so often, though, he might catch a glimpse of her ashen coat, or see the outline of her great wings. Even if he were standing beside her, emitting the radiance of the sun from his horn, she would still be like this. She always kept her mind closely guarded, more impregnable than any prison, fortress or moon.

After what seemed to be an eternity, a pair of eyes came into view, shining like lanterns in the darkness. They focused on him, and Mort fidgeted uncomfortably. Unlike her, his mind was about as secure as a straw shack. It meant she just didn't just see him, she saw every thought, every emotion, and every memory that came to his mind.

Her voice had all the weight and warmness of a glacier, each syllable seeming to shake the room. “You are early, shade. I am still calibrating the next set of prophecies. Return later with the others.”

Mort remembered why he was there, and took a moment to collect himself. He bowed until his chin touched the floor. “U-Uh, Thanasia, Lady and Creator, Mistress of the Shade Legions, Weaver of the...uh...Death Prophecies, Master of...er...” He trailed off, struggling to remember the other titles he had made up.

“'Thanasia' is just fine, shade,” She said, her voice echoing in the chamber.

“R-right.” Mort was disappointed. He had been certain She'd like at least one of those. She did not seem to like titles very much, which always confounded Mort. All the important creatures had a title of some sort. He had a title, several in fact. It didn't seem fair that he would get one, and not her.

“Is there a reason you're still here?” she asked absently.

“O-oh, right! Uh, well...” He cleared his throat (which was even more pointless now, given this was communication between minds), and said, “I have a favor to ask of you. See, I'm about to collect Red Shrimp, but he's on a stage that's surrounded by hundreds of ponies. I was wondering if...well, if it wasn't too much trouble, could you give me a tiny, little prophecy about the crowd's movements?”

Thanasia blinked slowly. “Why?”

“Well, it's really crowded, and you know how they get when a shade passes through them,” he explained briskly. “Goosebumps, paranoia, that sort of thing. It's just kinda...rude. I was hoping I could...avoid that?”

She stared at him for a long time. Mort fidgeted nervously again, wondering if he had said something wrong. Maybe his word choice should've been more grandiose. Did she react better to that or not? He couldn't recall. Actually, he couldn't recall a time when she wasn't distant or stoic...

Just as he was about to ask again, there came a short burst of green light from the center of Thanasia's head. For a moment he glimpsed the fringe of her white mane, a spiral horn, and a long, stony face. He felt a jolt in his mind, and an instant later he had a vision of Hoovestock, watching as the ponies in front of the stage walked, jumped and fell in all sorts of directions, creating tight but maneagable paths for him to walk through, until he ended up at the edge of the stage.

“Oh, thanks a lot!” he said, as he began to recall himself back to the material plane. “I guess I'll be seeing you soon, huh?”

“Yes,” Thanasia said, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Very soon.”

The chamber and Thanasia fell away. One moment he was flying through a void, and in the next he was back in Hoovestock, seeing the peanut finish its descent into the pony's mouth.

He reviewed the prophecy given to him, watching the crowd movements carefully. His window would be coming pretty soon, and all he had to do was—

“Daddy, I can't see anything!” The tiny yet shrill voice caught Mort's attention. The voice was of a foal, in a crowd that sparsely had any children to begin with, and one of the few that wasn't crying. It stuck out like a cracked hoof.

He turned to the source: the cry came from a young filly, who barely came up to the knees of her parents. There was a stallion, an earth pony with a cobalt coat and a drawing board for a cutie mark, and beside him was a sienna mare, sporting a hypodermic needle for her cutie mark. The two were watching the stage, where a bizarrely dressed band called the Galaxy Fillies were currently playing. The adults were doing well enough, but the foal (theirs, he presumed) was jumping up and down in a futile effort to get a better look

“I can't see anything!” she shouted again, sounding on the verge of tears.

The father gave the foal a gentle smile and got on his knees, using his head to motion towards his back. Seeing his intent, the foal quickly climbed on top of him, and the father got back on his hooves. Once stable, the filly stood up on her hindlegs, balancing herself on her father's thick neck. Now seeing a better view, the filly squealed in delight, and hopped up and down on the father's back. The stallion smiled, only grimacing slightly with each hop from his daughter.

The mother was barely able to contain her laughter. “Be careful, Bristle, or daddy's going home with a really sore back.”

“Nah, I'm fine, really,” he said, forcing a smile through the pain he no doubt felt. “Besides, Clover's bringing along his special brew later tonight once things settle down. A few swigs of that, and I definitely won't be feeling anything then!”

This comment seemed to draw an irked look from the mare. “Archie...”

“I'm kidding, I'm kidding!” he said hurriedly, eliciting a giggle from their daughter. “But really, it's not too often we get to go out and do something like this, Sweet Heart. And it's been a while since we've seen our old pals.”

The mare sighed wistfully. “You're right, but we really shouldn't keep Bristle up so late...”

“Aww, mom!” the filly whined from her makeshift mount. “I don't even have school tomorrow! Why can't I stay up?”

“Besides, they haven't seen Bristle for a couple years! They'd love to see her again.” He winked at the filly on his head. “The last time they saw you, you could barely stand up. Now you can't stand still. Can you, you little squirt?” He raised a hoof and began to tickle the little foal, eliciting a shriek of laughter from Bristle. The filly suddenly lost her balance and hastily bit down on Archie's mane, stopping her descent and causing the father to yowl.

The mare cocked an amused eyebrow. She chuckled, causing her mate to frown, though it soon turned into a small grin. Sweet Heart lowered her neck until she was under her daughter, then lifted it up, carrying the foal with her. The filly slid down her mother's slender neck, plopping down on her back.

“Well, it can't be all-night,” Sweet Heart said, rubbing her head against her daughter's, “but another hour or two shouldn't be too bad...”

“I knew you'd come around,” Archie said. “I can't wait to hear what they've been up to. They also...did I ever tell you about that time when I was in Trottingham, with Blitzer and Roundhouse? We were staying at this hotel—not a fancy one, of course, bit of a dump, really—but anyway, we were at this hotel, and there were these really loud griffons in the room over...”

Mort found himself listening intently to the story, a hundred yards away but hearing every word as if he were there. As the tale unfolded, Archie's words began to blend together into a dull murmur, as Mort paid more attention to the feelings emanating from the two.

Shade's didn't “feel” like most creatures. They knew when it was warm or cold, could surmise when something was wet or dry, hard or soft, but the actual, physical sensation was lost to them. It wasn't a necessary components for shades. What they could feel were the flow of life in living beings, all the way down to the smallest blades of grass. Walking through a tall, grassy field was one of Mort's simple pleasures.

What they could also feel, or at least, what Mort and the other, intelligent shades could feel, were emotions. Whatever feelings that were being felt by the ponies were fed from their brains into their very spirits, which existed on a level near (or at least, nearer) to shades. Mort could get a sense of a ponies emotions when he observed them, like looking at Horsechach inkblots. And when there was any sort of contact, even when intangible, those thoughts and feelings were as clear to him as the color of their coat, or the shape of their cutie mark.

What Mort felt from the lovers were some very, familiar emotions. There were feelings of nostalgia from the stallion as he recalled the memory, and feelings of mirth from the mare as she processed the details. There were temporary feelings of mortification from both when it was found out what the griffons were up to, amused shock at what Roundhouse had apparently said about the mother of one of them, and many others, reacting to each detail.

What really caught Mort's attention, however, were the underlying emotions, that seemed to always be there, no matter what was said. Feelings of devotion. Feelings of connection. Feelings of wholeness.

The three ponies were absolutely content. And, disturbingly, he was jealous.

It was all cut short by a thunderous applause from the audience. Mort snapped back to his senses, and looked towards the stage, where he saw that the Galaxy Fillies had gotten in a line to do a collective bow. Mort was confused for several moments, until it all came rushing back to him:

Hoovestock. Bands. Poorly thought-out stage props. Appointment.

The Galaxy Filles filed off the stage on roller skates, their lead guitarist sticking her tongue out at the fans in an exaggerated manner as her band mates dragged her off. From the opposite side, a surprisingly well dressed stallion with a mahogany coat and a microphone for a cutie mark trotted to the front. He swept back his already slick, blond mane, smiling pearly whites at the audience.

“Wow! What a performance! There aren't nearly enough all-filly bands out there, folks. And did you get a look at Pluto? The black mane, the black stockings, the black boots and spike bracelets...wasn't she just adorable?” The stallion nonchalantly ducked as a guitar soar from off stage, clearing it completely and hitting a hapless stage hoof on the other side. “Okay, okay, my bad. They're ebony.” This ignited a chorus of laughter, and off stage Mort could make out some inventive cursing. “But seriously folks, definitely one of best bands I've seen these past few days. And given all the talent up here, that's saying something. But...can they stand up to our last band tonight?”

No sooner had the last word left his mouth, than had the stage gone completely dark, catching a number of ponies off guard. All across the field, there were murmurs of “just an act,” “technical problems,” and of course, “whose hoof is that?”

It was around this time that Mort felt a small jolt in his mind, and he realized that his request had just been answered. In an instant he knew the motions of the entire crowd, from the stage to the outskirts. Thinking it over, there would be one path to the stage, though it would be a tight squeeze.

He dove into the crowd, twisting around the ponies as he struggled to avoid them. Their movements matched Thanasia's prophecy perfectly, but he was technically a few seconds later and had to make up for lost time. He wasn't as careful as he would've like, grazing a pony here and there. There was a stallion that was struggling to stay on his hooves. A mare that was beginning to feel claustrophobic. Another mare formulating a review for the festival. A stallion wondering if he should be more frisky with his fillyfriend. A foal wanting to go home. A mare...

A new sound cut through the murmurs of the crowd. It was the hissing of machines, soon followed by a thick smoke that billowed from offstage, enveloping everything in front of the crowd, including the metal rafters. There was so much that it floated down and into the front rows of ponies, causing them to go into hacking fits.

The stage lights suddenly shot back on, and this time were pointed into the air. Their came a chorus of awed gasps as they focused on something large and white. A giant stallion skull had appeared in the night sky, slowing descending towards the stage below. At least, that's what Mort thought it was supposed to be: the nose was too long, the eyes too small, and the front incisors far too large. Anatomy was clearly not the band's strong suit.

The tacky prop, made of heavy plastic and weaved with iron bars, was almost able to hide the magical glow surrounding it within the smoke on stage. But as soon as it came to a stop, resting upon iron support beams secretly erected as it made its appearance, there came a sudden explosion of noise (some would argue music) that sent the smoke fleeing through the crowds. As it cleared, it revealed that half-a-dozen speakers had somehow been moved onto stage, three on each side, and each one three times as tall as the average pony. All of them had knobs turned to crudely drawn 11s.

It was the center of the stage, however, that got the crowd's attention, as standing beneath the skull was a group of ponies. The most prominent of them, standing in front, wearing a white shirt and brown vest combo, with an unruly, blond mane, was the lead unicorn singer, Saint Hug 'Ems (who to this day still had trouble living down his name). To his left, wearing a leopard-spotted vest and sporting a long, dark mane, was his long time, earth pony friend and lead guitarist, Tough Nail. To Hug 'Ems left, wearing a black vest decorated with gold rings, and wearing a rather dashing mustache, was the lead bassists, a pegasus named Smalls.

And in the back, seeming far less concerned about being under a ludicrously large, heavy skull than most ponies should, was the band drummer, Red Shrimp, wearing a black vest and packer hat. The earth pony crossed his drumsticks in the air, silently exhibiting an aura of confidence. How he held them was anyone's guess. Some said he practiced a secret magic known only to some ponies that allowed him to pick objects up as if he had opposable thumbs. More practical ponies figured he used Velcro.

The announcer's voice boomed over crowd. “Fillies and gentlecolts, the moment you've all been waiting for. This! Is! SPINAL CLOP!”

There came a thunderous applause as jets of flame shot across the stage, illuminating the rock band and flinging sparks across the wooden structure, which had to be quickly extinguished by frantic stage hooves. Stamping out a little fire that had grown on his mane, St. Hug 'Ems took to the center of the stage, grasping the microphone with his inarticulate hoof.

“HOOVESTOCK!” he bellowed, with a Trottingham accent that even casual listeners could discern as fake. “Are you ready to rock?!”

The response was a cacophony of noise, enough to make the cloak pony wince. He stared up into the stage, focusing on one of the rods that held up the gigantic stage prop, seeing it rattle in tune with the cheering ponies. It was not long for this world, and neither was somepony else.

“I didn't quite catch that,” Hug 'Ems said, cupping his ears. “I asked, are you ready TO ROCK?!”

“YES!” the crowds screamed.

“What was that?!”

“YES!” Mort looked around him, seeing that there was now a straight path to the stage. He took a calming breath (a habit he had picked up from watching other ponies doing it), and proceeded forward.

“ALRIGHT THEN!” St. Hug 'Ems stood back, his band mates prepping their instruments as they prepared to play their first song. “Let's hit them with everything we got, boys! ONE, TWO, THREE—”

What would've normally ended with an exclamation point, instead ended with an explosion of sound as the guitarists came down on their instruments, inflicting temporary deafness on those closest to the mammoth speakers. The ground itself seemed to tremble from the force of it, and all at once hundreds of ponies shared the same, slick-backed mane.

It was even enough to give Mort pause, though not because of the force, since it passed through him completely. What really stopped him was the tune itself, which seemed oddly familiar to him. He couldn't pinpoint from where, or even when, but he was sure had heard it. The music was set so loud he almost had trouble distinguishing the words, which seemed to be talking about living in a “hay hole,” which struck him as an unusual inspiration for a song.

Even stranger, it was quite catchy, and he found himself tapping to the beat as the song played out. Music was, in his opinion, one of the greatest things to be invented by ponies. He just wished there was a way to listen to it on the go. There were phonographs, but they were big, heavy things with large discs. If only they could make those things smaller, and maybe fit more music...

Creak.

Mort's musings ended as soon as he heard it. Pivoting his head towards the stage, he saw the support bar for the skull prop bending further, finally drawing the attention of the drummer, who by then had noticed it too late.

With a metallic snap, the iron rod broke in two at the center. Without it, the other two quickly followed, and the giant skull came crashing on top of a dumbfounded Red Shrimp. The impact sent a quake across the stage, sending St. Hug 'Ems and Smalls to the wooden floor, and causing one floor board to catapult Tough Nail off the stage and into the crowd, where he was caught by ecstatic fans.

The effect on the crowd was immediate. While half stood by, wondering if this was part of the act, the other half rushed towards the stage to get a better look. Among them was Mort, who was trying to get on the stage. But there were hundreds of ponies now packed like sardines in front, with quite a few trying to jump over some barriers to get on the actual stage. Frustratingly, he realized he had missed his opportunity when he had stopped to listen.

Just as Mort was getting ready to squeeze between the tightly packed crowd, his eyes caught a pegasus that was diving towards the stage from a cloud. In particular, his eyes focused on the pegasus' wings. He watched them dumbly for a moment, before facehoofing with a groan.

With a thought, a pair of skeletal wings erupted from his back. He flapped once, and he went sailing over the crowd, and landed soundlessly on the stage, just in time to see St. Hug 'Ems recover.

The singer unstrapped the shattered guitar that had broken his fall, and looked behind him to see their giant, plastic skull where their drummer used to be.

“Oh horse apples,” he said, his real, southern accent slipping in.

Mort went around the despondent singer and towards where the hapless Red Shrimp had been. Security and stagehooves were already there, struggling to move the mammoth prop. Mort got between two of them, focusing on the pony (rather, what was left of him) underneath.

Once again, he raised his horn. Powerful, ancient magic flared from it, its green aura extending out one horn-length before it began to mold itself into a shape. When it was done, an ethereal scythe floated above Mort, tethered to his horn and thin enough to comfortably fit between atoms. With the barest twist of his head, Mort swung the magical blade through where Spinal Clop's now former drummer was.

A moment later, the shimmering, translucent spirit of Red Shrimp crawled out (or rather, through) the wreckage, shaking his head. He took a quick look around, noting the giant skull with some leeriness. The nearby ponies were, of course, none-the-wiser.

“Wow, that was close,” he said, relieved. “For a minute there I thought I was a goner!” He finally took notice of the cloaked pony, who stood motionless in front of him. “Oh, uh, hey. How's it goin'? You know only staff's allowed up here, right?”

“Uh...” Mort cleared his throat (more accurately, imitated the sound of it), because that's what they all seemed to do when breaking bad news. “I'm not exactly staff—”

“Oh, so you were from one of the other acts? I don't really remember you. Um, no offense. I'm sure you were cool, dude.” The ex-drummer tilted his head sideways, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Is that a...skull?”

“Um, yes,” Mort said. “I know it looks a little—”

“Cheap?”

Mort stopped himself, feeling himself bristle a bit. “Excuse me?”

“Uh, I mean...” Red Shrimp scratched the back of his head, looking apologetic. “It's not bad or anythin', but it just kinda looks like it came out of a bit-store. We're actually selling some ourselves. You should pick one up on the way out.”

Mort remained silent, briefly recalling a souvenir stand on the way, selling cheap masks that bore a strong resemblance to the skull on stage. Funnily enough, the price tags had given them a value far above what they were actually worth. It seemed math was also not their strong suit.

“Oh, hey, Hug 'Ems!” Red Shrimp turned his attention away from the cloaked pony, looking towards the blond stallion, who was speaking to some security guards. “I'm fine, dude! All's cool! Let's just get this cleaned up and get on with the show, okay?”

Red Shrimp waited for St. Hug 'Ems to say something, but the bereft singer simply kept his head down as he continued speaking to the guards. More stagehooves made their way towards them, and right behind them were some ponies who apparently got past the guards, decorated with Spinal Clop merchandise.

“Hey, why's he ignoring me?” Red Shrimp bit his lip, looking hurt. “I mean, it's not like it's my fault the whole thing fell down. And I was the one that almost got squashed, anyway.”

Mort braced himself for his least favorite part of the job. “He's not ignoring you.”

Red Shrimp shot him a confused look. “Huh? What are you talking about? He's not even looking at me!”

“Because he can't see or hear you now,” Mort stated. “As for 'almost' being squashed...”

He pointed a bony hoof towards where the giant prop had landed. Red Shrimp followed it and saw, sticking out between the white plastic and splintered floor boards, a leg that looked remarkably like his own.

Red Shrimp looked at the leg, then back at the cloaked pony, then back at the leg, then once again at the cloaked pony. He looked at the skull 'mask' underneath the hood. Really looked.

“W-wait,” he said, slowly, his eyes widening in panic. “Y-you're saying I'm...you...that, is...?”

Mort only nodded, waiting. Accidental deaths were often accompanied by heavy denial. It was very short, but also very messy.

“N-no, no,” Red Shrimp said, a nervous giggle coming from his throat, “there's no way you're...pfft, ha ha ha! O-okay, dude, I'll give it an 'A' for effort, but...I mean, can you believe this guy?”

The question was directed at a young stagehoof, who was still struggling to move the skull. What was also directed at him was a playful punch on the shoulder. One that simply passed through.

Red Shrimp stared, and tried again, watching in horrid fascination as his limbs phased through the stagehoof with no difficulty. He turned a pair of terrified eyes towards Mort, who simply shrugged.

“Oh, n-no...no way! No way! T-that's...I c-can't be...” He looked at the dozen or so ponies still struggling to move the skull, which now included the rest of his band. Their veins bulged and sweat dripped down their faces as they tried to move the prop.

“C-come on guys, hurry up!” the drummer shouted, trying not to look at the leg that could only be his. “It's not healthy having a ton of plastic laying on you, you know!”

“Look,” Mort started, “I know this hard to accept, especially when it happens so suddenly, but I'm pretty sure—”

“Hey, you shut up!” Red Shrimp demanded, pointing an accusing hoof at the pony shade. “It's not over yet, you hear? You wouldn't believe the things we can survive! Especially earth ponies!”

“Actually, I would,” Mort said, evenly. “I've seen more than a few ponies 'cheat' death in ways you wouldn't believe, but, um, this really isn't one of those times.”

“The hay it ain't!” Red Shrimp poked Mort roughly in the ribs. “Just you wait! They're going to get that off me, do a little CPR, and then I'll be right as—”

The ex-drummer was cut off by the sound of the fake skull rolling onto its side, landing with a enormous thump. The rescuers, fans and Red Shrimp rushed towards the crater of the stage. They got a good look at his body.

The fans screamed at the sight, covering their eyes. Others turned shades of green and had to quickly turn away, lest they defiled the body even further. The rest of Spinal Clop looked on in silence, looking saddened but unsurprised.

The announcer from before grimaced slightly, then perked up. “Well, I always did thought he sounded a little flat.” This earned him a venomous look from others nearby.

Red Shrimp stared at where is body was, his eyes and mouth wider than what would have been mortally possible. Mort stepped forward, standing beside Red Shrimp as he took a peek at what was left of his mortal coil. He laid a foreleg across Red Shrimp's shoulders, and tried to let him down easy.

“I don't think CPR's going to fix that.”

******

And so Hoovestock came to its climatic, tragic, and most of all, memorable, end. The attendees began to leave in herds, heading towards their homes or to spend more time with one another under the stars. The recent events had made them all more sober than when they had arrived, though a number of them were planning on remedying that fact in the next hour or so.

Mort sat in silence, waiting patiently. Around him were crushed soda cans, empty bags, wooden steaks half-way out of the ground, and the occasional torn rope. Things were now much quieter than they were when he first got here. Technically his job was “done,” but there were a couple things to tend to.

For starters, Red Shrimp. The recently departed and now ex-drummer of Spinal Clop had followed the medics as they moved his body (or rather what was left of it) from the stage to the carriage, blanching as they stopped once to pick up a piece that had fallen off. That they expressed doubts about getting every piece of him did not help matters. In the end, all Red Shrimp could do was watch forlornly as they rode off with his body in an ambulance, disappearing into the night.

Now the pony sat where he was, completely despondent, and Mort could hardly blame him. Accidental deaths were one of the worst ways to go, if only because of how sudden and unexpected they always are. Those who passed on by way of old age or disease were, by and large, able to prepare themselves for it. The only ones properly prepared for accidents were the utterly paranoid, and that hardly seemed a way to live.

The sound of a can being kicked caught Mort's attention, and he looked to see the source. The three remaining members of Spinal Clop were making their way towards Red Shrimp. Or more accurately, to where the ambulance last was. Four beer bottles were levitating beside St. Hug 'Ems, who passed two of them off to his fellows. The other two he kept for himself.

The three of them stood where the ambulance was in thoughtful silence, popping the caps off their respective bottles.

“Well, I suppose it was bound to happen,” St. Hug 'Ems said dourly, swishing the bottle around. He was back in-character with his voice. “Tradition and all that.”

“Gotta admit, I didn't expect it at all,” Smalls said. “I mean, kinda mundane when you think about it.”

Tough Nail stared at him incredulously. “Mundane? He got crushed by a giant stage prop!”

“Well, yeah,” Smalls replied lamely. “But, y'know, that's a thing that actually happens. Remember the first guy and the gardening equipment?”

The other two nodded sagely, an uncomfortable look crossing both their faces. Red Shrimp kept his head down, staring only at his front hooves.

Tough Nail sighed. “It's all my fault,” he said morosely. “The speakers must've shook the thing apart. I should have never made them go to eleven.”

St. Hug 'Ems groaned. “Aw geeze, don't say that...”

“I should've listened,” the pegasus continued, seemingly in his own world. “They all told me eleven was too far, that it was crazy. But I didn't listen, did I? And Red paid for it.”

Smalls waved his hoof dismissively. “Hey now, we all signed off on the idea, okay? All of us thought it was pretty cool. Even Red thought it was cool.”

“Yeah, come on, don't blame yourself.” St. Hug 'Ems rested a reassuring hoof on Tough Nail's shoulder. “Listen, what'd Red think if he saw you right now? Saw us right now?”

The three of them reflected silently. Tough Nail kicked at pebbles near his hoof, St. Hug 'Ems took another swig of his drink, and Small scratched his mustache.

“That is an interesting question,” Mort said suddenly, deciding now was a good time as any to speak up. “What are you thinking?”

Red Shrimp lifted his head, giving the shade a dazed look. “I...I don't...” He trailed off, looking at his band mates.

“All I'm saying,” Mort continued, “is that this might be the last time you see these guys. If you want to get anything off your chest, now's probably the best time.”

Red Shrimp looked between Mort and his band mates uncertainly. “C-can they hear me?” he asked, his tone a strange mixture of apprehension and hope.

“Um...well, it's not impossible,” the shade replied, not completely certain about the specifics himself. “They might at least feel something. Maybe.” When he was greeted with a discouraged look, Mort could only shrug helplessly. “I'm sorry, it's not an exact science. It's different for everypony. But it wouldn't hurt to try.”

Red Shrimp looked at his band mates thoughtfully. With a wistful sigh, he got back on his hooves, turning his attention to St. Hug 'Ems.

“Uh, okay. First up, Hug 'Ems. Well, uh, what can I say other then, well, thank you? I-I mean, I was just kinda drifting from one place to another, not really knowing where to go or what to do. Then you came into my life and gave me this...honest-to-Celestia crazy proposition to be your drummer, in light of every, other drummer you had kicking the bucket. I...guess I should feel upset about that now, but, well, like they say: better to burn out than to fade away, right? Keep up the good work.”

He then turned to Tough Nail. “Now, Nail. The two of them are right, you shouldn't blame yourself over this. We had no way of knowing your stereos were going to do what they did, alright?” (Mort resisted an urge to comment on that.) “Honestly, I thought the whole idea of going above ten to be absolutely brilliant. Don't you ever consider removing it. And, uh...” Red Shrimp coughed awkwardly, shooting a sidelong glance at St. Hug 'Ems. “It's pretty obvious you...what I'm trying to say, is it ain't healthy to keep those feelings all locked up and everything, right? He might not know how you feel, but it's been pretty obvious to the rest of us, and...well, you never know. Hug 'Ems always struck me as a more open-minded pony than most. What ever he says, he'll never hate you or anything.”

Red Shrimp paused a moment, as if hoping Tough Nail would say or do something. When nothing came of it, Red Shrimp seemed to struggle to keep a straight face as he finally focused his attention on the last pony. Mort continued to watch, a part of him nagging that he shouldn't.

“Smalls, Smalls, Smalls...” Red Shrimp said, shaking his head each time. He approached the earth pony with a small grin. “You were like the brother I never had. Always there to help, always ready to cool an argument between us, always prepared to fix any of our screw ups. The other two probably would have split a long time ago if it hadn't been for you. You're the glue that's held this rickety train together all these years.” He continued to look warmly at his band mate, as the latter took another swig from his bottle. “But seriously, you can be such a bucking idiot sometimes!”

Mort was shaken from his melancholy and stared at Red Shrimp in shock. “What?”

Red Shrimp ignored him. “Mundane? Seriously?! I get myself crushed flat by a giant, freakin' skull and all you can say is that it was mundane? Can you name me another guy who went out like that?! I don't care if ponies get squished every day, it's a far sight better than being caught dead on a toilet, like some other rock stars!”

Red Shrimp started to say something else, but stopped himself. He turned to look at Mort and asked, “That guy is dead, right?”

The outburst had surprised Mort so much, he wasn't in a state to give a coherent answer. “Uh...”

“Right, like I was saying!” Red Shrimp continued, staring heatedly at the oblivious Smalls. “I don't care if it wasn't as weird as the gardening incident, you can't ask for a more, metal death than getting pasted by a giant skull!” He paused, his eyes looking up thoughtfully. “Well, except spontaneous combustion. That would have actually been kinda cool. Or maybe getting electrocuted by your own instrument. Or having a heart attack while in bed with two fillies.” He smirked knowingly. “You'll probably go out that way, you lucky stud.”

Red Shrimp's eyes became misty. The earth pony almost seemed to be looking right back at him, if not for how distant his own eyes were. Red Shrimp lifted his forelegs, hesitated, than slowly enclosed Smalls within them, stopping just short of actually touching him.

“I love ya, Smalls,” he choked. “I'll miss you.” He retracted his legs, and gave a longing look at his band...no, friends. “I'm going to miss all of you.”

As if it were a signal, St. Hug 'Ems lifted his beer bottle into the sky, and declared, “Here's to Red Shrimp. Gone, but never forgotten.” The three of them then turned their beer bottles over in tandem, spilling the rest of their contents to the ground. All except St. Hug 'Ems, who watched in puzzlement as nothing came out of his. He twisted the bottle around to look inside it. “Whoops.”

“Just pour one out when you get home,” Smalls said, dropping his bottle into a nearby trash can. He proceeded to walk off, looking back once to say, “I'll get in touch with a funeral home tomorrow. Lots of paper work, I expect.”

Tough Nail nodded affirmatively, going his own way as well, haphazardly throwing his bottle into the field. “I'll pack his things.”

“And I'll get a lawyer,” St. Hug 'Ems finished, still looking deep into his bottle for any hidden liquid. He threw it behind him and popped the cap on the last bottle. He brought it up to his lips, but stopped short. He searched around himself, swirling the bottle around in the air. Finally, he sat the bottle on the ground. Right in front of Red Shrimp. “One for the road,” he whispered.

And like that, they were gone into the night, preparing themselves for tomorrow and all it entailed. This left only Mort and Red Shrimp. Red Shrimp looked at the bottle a long time, failing to hold back tears. He wiped what moisture there was from his eyes, and turned to see the shade waiting just behind him. He jumped.

“Oh! Uh, right...” Red Shrimp looked nervously at Mort, rubbing one foreleg. “S-sorry, I didn't mean to take up your time or anything...”

Mort shook his head. “You're fine. I still got a little time before my next stop, anyway. Don't worry about it!”

Red Shrimp relaxed, relief washing over him. “Well, I guess that's good to hear...uh, Pale Pony, sir.”

“Please,” the shade replied, “call me Mort.” He motioned for Red Shrimp to start following him, and it wasn't long before the two of them were walking away from the remnants of Hoovestock, across the very field Mort had passed through to get there. “So, are you feeling any better?” Mort asked him.

“A little bit, actually...” Red Shrimp peered down at his legs, watching the blades of grass pass through the ends of his hooves. “You know, this isn't as bad as I thought it'd be.”

“Dying's the hardest part,” Mort said. “It gets easier after that. Kinda like after getting a giant needle jabbed into you. Or so I'm told.” Mort concentrated, and the lower portion of his cloak dissipated to reveal skeletal legs. “Can't really speak from experience, obviously.”

The earth pony chuckled. “I suppose not.”

Mort released his concentration, the cloak wrapping around his legs again. “So, is there anypony else you want to see?” Mort asked. “Family? A wife? Kids?”

“Definitely no wife,” Red Shrimp said, sounding relieved. “And no kids, either...erm, none that I'm aware of, anyway.” He gave a nervous, little cough. “Uh, as for family...eh, me and my folks have pretty much said everything we could say. I think they'll be fine.”

“You sure?” Mort asked, uncertain.

“Well...to be honest, my mom always did say that being a rock star would be the death of me. I just know she's going to be saying 'I told you so' right up to the funeral, and a little later, too.” Red Shrimp seemed to think of something, then winced. “Oh, Celestia, I don't envy the sap who's supposed to make me look presentable.”

“Could be closed casket,” Mort suggested.

Red Shrimp shrugged. “Why even bother? They could probably fit all of me in a jar, the way I am now.” He sighed. “And now I just remembered I signed myself up as an organ donor. Fat lot that'll do somepony now, unless they're looking for paper-thin kidneys.”

It was a slightly dark turn in their conversation, but in Mort's experience it had always been something of a coping mechanism. Making light of death helped in taking the sting out of it, especially if it were your own. And especially if it was your job to tend to every, single one.

“Well, it could be worse,” Red Shrimp mused, as the two of them crested a hill. “Smalls was right about one thing, the first guy did not go out very pleasantly. It did not sound quick or painless.”

“It wasn't,” Mort commented, shivering. “I've been at this for centuries, and that one still gives me the heebie jeebies.”

“Must've been pretty bad if you remember, then.” Red Shrimp stopped himself, and Mort followed suit. The two of them stood at the top of the hill, where fireflies danced around them and through them. It gave them a good view of what was now left of Hoovestock, consisting of only some trash and a stage that needed to be torn down.

“Oh, I remember all the ponies I've reaped,” Mort said, taking some pride in the fact. “You ask me who, I'll tell you where, when and how.”

Red Shrimp smiled sardonically. “Dang, I should've read up on some more conspiracies, then.”

“Please none of those,” Mort moaned, rubbing his head. “I've learned that if a pony believes in something enough, it doesn't matter who tells them how it happened.”

“They don't believe you?”

“They think I'm in on it, too.”

The two of them had a good laugh at that. It felt good to laugh, it felt even better to see Red Shrimp laughing. Watching the departed being able to find joy in something always perked him up, especially nowadays.

Red Shrimp wiped a spectral tear from his eye, calming himself. “So, heh, what's next then?”

Mort got himself back in control as well, and asked, “What do you mean?”

Red Shrimp looked at him expectantly. “Well, unless I'm supposed to be a ghost for the rest of my—existence, I guess?—isn't there another part to all this?”

Mort felt confused for a moment, before he finally grasped his meaning. “Oh, right! Of course! Well...it really depends. Do you have any 'unfinished business' or the like?”

“Not really,” Red Shrimp said, shrugging absently.

“Hmm...” Mort scratched his chin, pondering. “Do you feel content, then?”

“Ah...I don't know,” Red Shrimp said uncertainly. “How will I know if I am?”

“You'll know,” Mort assured him. “It might take a few minutes, a few hours, maybe even a few days, but you'll know.”

“So what do I do until then?” the ex-drummer asked. “Haunt the grounds or something?”

“Well, it's up to you,” Mort said. “You could visit your home, walk around town, explore places that were too dangerous before, or...”

“Or?”

Mort scratched at the ground nervously, feeling his insides knot up. “Or you could...I don't know, stick with me?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper by the end.

Red Shrimp stared at him, his mouth hanging slightly open. “Wait, you mean hang out? With you?” He sounded incredulous.

Mort turned away from Red Shrimp and sighed, disappointed and embarrassed. “You're right, it's a really stupid—”

“Count me in!”

“—idea, I'm sorry for—wait, what?” Mort spun back around, looking at him in shock. He felt his hopes rising. “Really?”

“Of course!” Red Shrimp playfully punched him in the shoulder. “Come on, I'm a rock star and you're the Pale Pony! Hanging out with you has got to be, like, a rule or something!”

“Well, not really, but okay!” Mort stifled a giggle of excitement. “Let's get going! We'll cut through the woods!”

“Alright!” Red Shrimp clopped his hooves together once, and the pair began their descent down the hill. Mort was struggling to contain himself. It had been a while since somepony could accompany him, much less been so eager about it. “So, where are we headed?” Red Shrimp asked.

“Well, there's this mare named Tuft Love in Trottingham,” he started. “She's been getting on in years, see, and her heart's...um...” He shot a concerned look at Red Shrimp. “Are you really going to be okay? I mean, we are talking about a dying pony here...”

“Hey, it's no prob!” the ex-drummer replied easily. “I mean, I saw what happened to me. It can't get much worse than that. And I bet seeing a celebrity will help them feel a little better and everything, you know?”

That was true. What was also true was that not all of them recovered as quickly as Red Shrimp had. And that he somehow doubted that an old mare would have even heard of Red Shrimp, much less Spinal Clop. But these were points he could not bring himself to say right away.

They reached the forest in good time. Mort phased through the rocks, branches and bushes, making a beeline for their destination. Behind him, Red Shrimp was still getting accustomed to the fact he was immaterial. He instinctively moved around trees and rocks, and winced when his legs moved through thorn bushes.

He only stopped once to stick his head inside a particularly wide tree. A few seconds later Mort heard him say, “Wow, older than my grandma,” and then he was back on the move again.

“This is all kinda neat,” Red Shrimp said, clearly impressed. “Do you, like, go straight through mountains and the like, too?”

“When I'm short on time,” Mort said, watching in amusement as Red Shrimp ducked under a branch out of habit. “I like to take the scenic route, though. Much more interesting then a mile of solid rock. Speaking of scenic...”

The forest came to an abrupt end, and the two of them entered a lush clearing. Batches of flowers seemed to glow under the moonlight, swaying in the gentle breeze. All manner of insects danced above and marched below. Red Shrimp's smile widened considerably as he took it in.

“Nice,” he breathed.

“Very nice,” Mort agreed. “You chose a really great night to play. Now we just...”

Mort trailed off as something caught his eye. Near the center of the clearing there was a still form. Mort didn't need to scan it to know that it was a rabbit. Several puncture wounds went from its neck to its thigh, leaking dark blood.

Red Shrimp also noticed, and frowned sympathetically. “Aw, poor guy. What happened?”

“Something tried to eat him,” Mort explained. “He got away, but either the blood loss or trauma got to him.”

“Dang,” his companion replied. “So, is this the part where you...?”

“Huh?” Mort looked over to him, cocking his head.

Red Shrimp seemed just as confused. “Well, he's dead, so...” He held the last syllable, looking at Mort expectantly.

“Oh, rabbits aren't my department,” Mort said.

“'Not your department?'” the pony repeated. “You're the Pale Pony!”

“Right, and I collect ponies. Rabbits are its job,” Mort said, pointing to the other side of the clearing.

Red Shrimp followed, and gave a startled gasp at what came out.

The rabbit shade was not like Mort. It was a black, amorphous shape that made its way out of the foliage, hovering just above the ground. In spite of that, Mort saw it hop from one spot to another, its body stretching like a slinky as it did so. It had a pair of yellow dots that Mort assumed were to be eyes, and nubs on its “head” that wiggled occasionally.

Red Shrimp had taken a couple steps back, staring at it with a bit of anxiety. “Um, what's that?”

“That's the rabbit shade,” Mort told him. “Kinda like me, only for, you know, rabbits.”

Red Shrimp swallowed. “Oh. Uh, I notice he doesn't look an awful lot like you...”

Mort shrugged. “Well, it can't really help it. Rabbits aren't exactly the most mentally stimulating creatures in the world. It almost has the ears and eyes down, though, and that's not a bad start. Maybe in a century it'll grow a tooth or two.”

It wasn't long before the rabbit shade had reached its quarry. It floated beside the rabbit, now looking more like a ball of churning ink. Green magic began to extend from its body like smoke, gathering above the shade before wisping its way into the corpse.

A few seconds later, the magical line was pulled out of the rabbit, bringing with it the rabbit's soul. Hanging in the air, it looked healthier than it may have ever before, if more confused. The shade gently deposited the rabbit on the ground, then withdrew its magic completely, extinguishing the green glow.

“Good job as always!” Mort called out, cupping his mouth. “Shade of rabbits, meet Red Shrimp! Red Shrimp, shade of rabbits! Red Shrimp's just with me until...um...”

Mort trailed off as it became abundantly clear the shade was ignoring him. It regarded the rabbit's soul for a brief moment, then began to hop away again, further into the dark woods. Mort's eyes followed the shade as it left, sagging a little.

“So, I take it they're not much for conversation?” Red Shrimp queried.

“Not really,” the pony shade sighed. “Maybe in a millennium or two...”

The rabbit had poked around his former body, not seeming the least bit disturbed by his own corpse. After a few moments of this, he simply sat down, twitching his nose as he waited. For what, he probably didn't know, though Mort did.

“Doesn't look too bad, does he?” Red Shrimp commented, watching it.

“They rarely do,” Mort said. “Your soul's forged by your memories, thoughts and experiences. So its appearance is largely based on how you see yourself. I've seen ponies who kept their eyepatches or peg legs simply because those things became an integral part of their identity.”

“Huh, so I guess that's why I don't look...um...” Red Shrimp gulped. “Worse, right?”

“And also why you were crying, even when you don't have tear ducts,” Mort pointed out.

“Hey, I wasn't crying!” the ex-drummer protested immediately. “I just...something got in my eye!”

“You mean the same one that's intangible?”

The earth pony snorted, and turned away from the pony shade, sulking. As he did, he noticed that the rabbit from before was approaching him slowly, eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“Oh, uh, hey there, little guy,” he whispered gently. The rabbit came to a stop directly in front of him, its ears flopping up and down. “Guess we're kinda stuck in the same boat, huh?”

He reached out, scratching the rabbit behind the ears. The rabbit didn't object, simply staring at the pony in front of him, as if contemplating something. Soon, parts of its fur began to glow, and it drifted off the ground, looking about itself curiously.

A moment later, beams of light seemed to explode from the rabbit, and in a blinding flash, it was gone, leaving only a few sparkles in its wake.

“W-what happened?!” Red Shrimp stared at where the rabbit was, and back at his own hoof, horrified. “What did I do?!”

“Nothing! You're fine! Don't worry.” Mort hurried over to the pony, patting him on the back. “The rabbit just moved on. Perfectly normal.”

“Moved on?” Red Shrimp took another look at the space previously held by the rabbit, and gulped nervously. “W-wait, so that's...that'll happen to me?”

Mort hesitated. “Um...pretty much, yeah.”

“It's kinda...explodey, isn't it?” Red Shrimp rubbed himself, looking increasingly anxious. “I-it doesn't hurt, does it?”

“Never,” Mort replied quickly.

“Well, that's one thing, I guess...” Red Shrimp said, not sounding any less anxious. “Then what happens?”

Mort flinched. He really should've seen this coming. Most ponies were absolutely certain of what would happen next. Occasionally, though, they had to ask. No matter how many times the question came up, Mort always hated answering it.

“I don't know,” he admitted.

Red Shrimp stared at him, puzzled. “You...don't know?”

“No.”

“But...you have to have some idea,” Red Shrimp said, undeterred. “Like, maybe you heard or saw something? Singing? Instruments? Golden gates or sunny fields...?”

“No,” Mort repeated, a little more solemnly. “It doesn't matter what they were, who they were, or what they've done, they all pass on the same way as that rabbit did.” He shrugged helplessly. “I'm sorry, but...that's all there is to it.”

“Oh...” Red Shrimp's voice had shrunk to a whisper. He sat down, looking sullenly at the ground. “Well...what's the worst case scenario, then?”

Mort considered his words carefully, having an idea of what Red Shrimp was getting at. It was definitely not Mort's favorite idea either, but still quite possible. “Worst case,” he said delicately, “if you can call it that, is that if nothing else, you've had a life.”

Red Shrimp's lips quivered, and he took a shuddered breath, hugging himself. Mort looked pitiably at him, feeling sorry. He understood it, of course. Death was frightening largely because no one knew what came next. And when one did die, they found that their “guide” was just as clueless as they were. It was not very comforting.

“Listen,” Mort said, sitting down next to his companion, “like I said, I don't know. Anything could happen! Maybe even things we could never imagine. But...I do know that all souls gravitate towards moving on. So it can't be all bad, right? I'm sure on some level they know it's for the best.”

Red Shrimp swallowed hard. “You think so?”

“Absolutely,” Mort assured him. “I mean, if you think about it logically, nothing is ever 'gone.' It only changes. Souls...I don't know if they move somewhere, or transform into something else, but I believe they never disappear completely. I know this is scary, because you don't know what will happen next, but...” He struggled for a moment, trying to find the words. “Well, it's not all that different from life, is it? You never know for sure what's around the corner, but it's no reason not to face it head on. You're only other option would be to do nothing, and...well...”

“Fade away.” Red Shrimp sniffed, wiping a stray tear from his eye. He glanced at Mort, then wrapped a foreleg around him. A few moments passed where the two said nothing to each other.

“You kinda have a point,” he said. “About having a life, I mean. It might not have been as long as I liked, but it was certainly a great party while it lasted. I got to play with an awesome band, had some great times with them, and everypony's definitely going to remember how I went out.”

“And you held the title the longest,” Mort added. “I would know.”

Red Shrimp grinned “Heh, yeah! Hey, now that I”m dead, my stuff's going to be worth a fortune, isn't it! Ha! There's my spare drum set, my vests, my hairbands, and I think I still got a half-eaten doughnut in our trailer!”

If Mort had a face, it would have slightly twisted in disgust. “I really don't know if that'll be worth anything...”

“Of course it will! You wouldn't believe what crazy crud those fans collect. Ooh! Maybe they'll write a book! Or, or, maybe the guys will write a song about it! Wouldn't that be something? Maybe 'Death by Skull' or 'Pasted on Stage.'” He sighed, and as he did, patches of his body started to glow. Particles of light began to drift from him, floating upward. “Yeah, those guys will definitely be okay. They'll keep on going so long as they can lift those instruments. And I'm sure Hug 'Ems will give my folks some of the royalties, help out with their retirement. He's nice like that...”

As the drummer continued, he didn't notice that he was beginning to float higher and higher away from the ground, his body taking on a shimmering luminescence as he ascended. Mort watched silently, feeling a confusing mixture of elation and dismay.

Red Shrimp stopped in the middle of his rambling, and gave a shout when he saw what was happening. “H-hey, what's going on?!”

“You're content,” the cloaked pony called. “There's only one thing left to do now.”

“I-it's happening? Now?” The pony looked about himself uncertainly, twisting in the air. “W-wait! Let me stay a little longer! I'm not ready! This is...this is...” He trailed off, his panic slowly fading as a realization struck him. “This...this isn't too bad, actually. K-kinda...almost like a relief, or something.”

“Told you so, didn't it?” Mort took a moment to collect himself and not feel so gloomy. This was a good thing, after all. “I hope everything works out for you.”

“Thanks,” Red Shrimp said, smiling at him. “And...thanks for letting me come along. It was fun while it lasted.”

“Glad to hear it,” Mort said sincerely. “If you do get to see the other drummers, though, tell them I said hi, okay?”

Red Shrimp grinned at him. “Not a problem, buddy! When you get around to seeing my old crew, you tell them we'll be saving them a few seats.”

“Sure thing.” Mort continued to watch Red Shrimp ascend, just as he suddenly remembered something. “Wait!”

Red Shrimp stopped in the air, his body practically a shining beacon, and gave the cloaked shade a bewildered look. Mort's horn glowed, and from the depths of his cloak came an inked quill and a piece of parchment, both of which floated up to the ascended drummer.

“What's this for?” Red Shrimp asked.

“An autograph,” Mort said, scratching the back of his hood. “Y-you know, as a memento. It's, uh, just something I do.”

“Oh, sure. Everypony needs a hobby.” The drummer quickly wrote something on the parchment, and once done, the quill and paper were pulled back towards the shade.

“Thank you,” Mort said. “It was...” He took a moment to collect himself. “It was really nice meeting you, Red Shrimp.”

“Likewise, Mort!” Red Shrimp did a little salute, and winked at the shade. Not a moment later, light burst forth from the ex-drummer's being, until he looked like a small, blazing star. Then in an instant, the light dimmed before vanishing completely, leaving nothing behind. Not even a twinkle.

Mort stared at the spot where Red Shrimp had been, for the moment feeling glad that he had sent him on with a smile. He took a look at the parchment, and opened it up. Red Shrimp had signed across the entire page, trying to cover as much paper as he could: To my best and last fan. Red Shrimp. Next to his name, he had drawn a crude picture of two drumsticks, crisscrossed with each other; his cutie mark.

Mort stared at it a moment longer, the joy he felt earlier beginning to flee him the longer he looked at it. He tried to hold on to it, but the emotion was even more intangible than he was. It wrestled itself away from him, leaving behind an emptiness that could have filled a cavern. The shade sighed, and rolled the parchment up, sticking it back inside his cloak along with the ink.

He shot one more look at the spot from where Red Shrimp had moved on, and made his way to the center of the clearing, his head held low. The life around him tickled his body, from the grass beneath his hooves, to the fireflies that unknowingly flew through him. It helped, but just barely.

Once there, he lay down, resting his heads in his hooves, his thoughts turned towards himself. It wasn't just the gnawing emptiness inside that bothered him. For as long as he could remember, he had traveled from appointment to appointment with mechanical efficiency, never delaying, and with every step perfectly calculated. Now, though, there was the slightest struggle to get himself moving, like his body had become heavier. And he felt himself dreading what lay ahead the next day, but not because of who died or how, as it sometimes was, but because the thought of working itself had seemed...exhausting.

Exhaustion was a product of muscles overexerting themselves, of creatures suffering sleep deprivation. Shades were magical in composition: exhaustion was impossible. Yet every day he felt a little less lively, like his energy was leaving him. That's what exhaustion was, wasn't it? The only other thing like that...

He squashed that thought very, very quickly, though not before shuddering hard enough that his bones rattled.

He looked up, watching the fireflies weave in the air as if they were putting on a light show. The night was cloudless, revealing all that the sky had to offer. Every star and constellation was present and accounted for, accompanying the waning moon. He looked longingly at it.

Yes, he was disappointed. He had hoped and wanted Red Shrimp to stick around, at the very least until he had gone to Tuft Love. It was the same thing over and over again: reap the pony, know the pony, say goodbye to the pony. At some point it had started to take a toll on him, watching them leave just as he was starting to know them, desperately trying to form something with them.

But it almost wasn't an option anymore. The pony population was growing at an exuberant rate. Ages ago it was kept at a relatively consistent size thanks to famine, disease and the occasional war. But the species had found ways to store their food for months on end, had established treatments for even the worst of illnesses, and had almost entirely done away with violent confrontation. The last “war” was fought with apple pies and ended with zero fatalities.

What this meant was that there were now thousands and thousands of ponies spread out all across the continent. It would mean that two ponies could die within minutes of each other, and be on opposite sides of the world. He's had to find inventive ways of reaching ponies quickly so that, at the very least, his absence would be minimized.

And the worst part was that it would only get worse. Unless some cataclysm struck Equestria (and Mort would not wish for one, even on his worst days), the pony population was only going grow and grow at a faster rate each year. Pretty soon even the scenic routes wouldn't be an option. Seeing them wouldn't be an option.

There was no doubt about it. After all this time, after trying to convince himself otherwise over and over again, he could no longer ignore an all too simple truth: he was completely and utterly miserable.

“That's plain to see.”

Mort shot to his hooves. For a moment he wondered if the words had simply appeared in his mind, but no. They were spoken to him. With agonizing slowness, he turned around.

While Thanasia was a giant in the collective subconscious, in the material realm she was “only” twice as tall as the average pony. This did not make her any less intimidating. The shadows were gone, revealing an alicorn with a mane as thick and white as wax, which flowed down her back. Her wings, often outstretched, were now folded tightly against her ash gray body. In the moonlight she looked like a monument, and her horn almost looked sinister.

For an instant his eyes were drawn to her flank, which was adorned with an image of a thick, white candle, sitting in an onyx pedestal, and lit by a green flame. The next instant his vision was drawn towards her eyes, yellow as candlelight, which seemed to stare deep inside his very being.

“My shade,” Thanasia commanded, “we need to talk.”

And lo, I beheld a little, red wagon.

The trees and bushes around Mort melded into brown and green blurs as he flew over the ground at high speeds. His hooves had not once touched the ground since he fled Sugarcube Corner, and he phased through any and all obstacles in his path. All notions of keeping up appearances had evaporated. All that mattered was putting distance between him and Twilight Sparkle.

He finally slowed to a stop after what felt like hours, though he knew only a few minutes had passed at most. In that time he had passed the limits of Ponyville proper, and was now somewhere east of town. He was in one of the forests that surrounded it, with no obvious beaten paths that he could detect. Which meant that ponies rarely, if ever, wandered out here.

It was probably for the best. He had only made himself intangible enough to move through solid materials, but not so much he would be invisible as well. If any ponies were out, they might have seen a cloaked pony glide through trees and shrubberies. He didn't feel like explaining that to them. He didn't feel like seeing any pony at the moment, really.

“Darn it...” His eyes caught a pebble on the ground. He recalled how ponies would sometimes kick, buck, or stomp things when they were frustrated. He wasn't sure how assaulting inanimate objects would help them, but at the moment he was willing to try anything.

He kicked at the small pebble, watching it phase through his hoof. Grumbling, Mort became tangible and tried again, kicking harder this time. Before he could even touch the pebble, however, his hoof caught his cloak, and he went sprawling chin-first into the dirt.

Mort lay there for some time, unmoving. He glanced up, seeing the sun directly overhead. Judging by its position, it was probably close to noon. It struck him that he hadn't even been in Ponyville for three hours. Less than an hour on average for each pony, and he had already goofed up on over half of them.

He kept replaying the events of the party over and over again, seeing himself stumble and the cake engulf Twilight and Spike. Numerous what-ifs and maybes paraded around each memory, pointing out all the things he could have done to avoid his current predicament.

The good news was that the frustration was gone now. The bad news was that it had been crowded out by self-pity and general gloominess. It was bad enough to have Twilight get a cake dropped on her, but it had also happened while everypony in town was watching. He probably embarrassed her on top of everything else. Maybe even Pinkie Pie too, since she was the one hosting the party. With him gone, the other ponies might choose to be upset with her instead.

Just thinking of Pinkie Pie made him feel ill. He hurt her! Shades weren't ever supposed to hurt living creatures, no matter what they were or what they were doing. Pinkie was easily one of the sweetest and most innocent ponies Mort had ever seen, and he had her bouncing off the walls in pain. He probably even drew blood.

Moaning miserably, he broadened his senses, and soon the air around him was a spectrum of rays and waves of energy. The visible light was mixed in with infrared and ultraviolet light, which traveled alongside weak x-rays and radio waves. It all danced in front of him as it was absorbed and reflected by leaf, bark, stone, grass, air, and his own body. He felt the life that tingled in the grass below him, and the remnants of it in the leaves that floated by in the wind.

Sometimes if he experienced the world like this, it would cheer him up if he was feeling down. He was always amazed at how so many natural systems could work in tandem with each other, and create something as beautiful as the world he walked. Unfortunately, even with all his natural senses opened up, he couldn't stop thinking about what happened.

He looked into the sun, recalling how ponies had believed (and some still do) that when one prayed to the sun, the words could be heard by Celestia herself. It wasn't true, of course. Celestia had actually spent some years trying to squash the myth, iterating to ponies that what they could say in a prayer could just as easily be written down in a letter, or even spoken to her personally.

That said, he considered it pretty irrational when a pony started to talk to the sun, as if expecting Celestia to answer them, like he saw all the time. Or like he was doing just now.

“So...things haven't been going too smoothly,” he said, finding himself pausing as if a reply was forthcoming. “I-I mean it's not them or anything, it's me. Every time it seems like things are going my way, I somehow mess everything up. And it's always little things I could have done, you know? If I never dropped my amulet, Rarity wouldn't have needed to come in to return. Or if I hadn't asked for an encore, Fluttershy's animals wouldn't have seen me and gone berserk. (Not that I blame them for going berserk, of course.) And if I had just been a little more careful at Sugarcube Corner...”

He sighed again, absently tracing a circle into the grass with his free hoof. “I really wish I could talk to you or Luna right now. I need help...”

“What about me, my shade?”

“Oh, I don't know,” he murmured. “Thanasia's really smart, but I need somepony who really understands Twilight and her friends. Thanasia doesn't know ponies...very...”

Once it clicked that someone had actually spoken, he only had to turn his head around to see the ashen alicorn standing behind him.

Mort shouted and shot to his hooves, spun around, got tangled, then untangled himself, and finally did a clumsy salute. “M-mistress! Ma'am! Lady! W-what brings you here?”

“Well, I wanted to see what 'progress' you were making since we last spoke,” she said, slowly approaching him as she folded her wings. “Were you...talking to the sun just now?”

“Um...yes,” he answered, doing his best to hide his face behind his hood.

She titled her head to one side, scrutinizing him. “You do realize that Celestia can't actually—”

“Yes,” he said, feeling more embarrassed by the moment.

“I...see. Well, so long as you understand...”

The two of them stood there, an awkward silence separating them. Thanasia looked down on him, her expression betraying nothing. She could be thinking anything, and Mort hadn't a clue what it might be.

“Um, how much did you hear just now?” he asked.

“That depends,” she said. “Did you mention anything before going into how things weren't 'smooth' at the moment?”

“Not...really,” he admitted.

“Ah,” she said, nodding her head. “In that case, I heard everything.”

Mort hung his head. He wanted to sink into the earth. Maybe take a gander at the molten core.

Thanasia cleared her throat. “Well,” she started, “I realize I may not be either of the princesses, but I'm sure I can still offer at least a little insight. So, is there anything you wish to...discuss?”

Mort didn't say anything. He kept his eyes averted, a dozen thoughts swimming in his mind. Thanasia couldn't have chosen a worst possible time to check in on him. Not that he would tell her that, of course.

Guilt started to gnaw at him from the inside. He hadn't even considered what Thanasia would do if she found out about what happened. Though he knew perfectly well the rules that shades had to abide to, he had never actually wondered about the consequences if one broke them. He had never done so (until today, that is), and none of the shades he knew of had ever broke them either. It just didn't strike him as something to ever worry about.

Oh, how he missed those innocent times already...

He glanced up, and saw that Thanasia was still look at him patiently. Was it possible she knew already, and was waiting for him to confess? Aside from its namesake, the town had a number of different creatures. It wouldn't be implausible for a shade to be in the vicinity, gathering all the dirty details...

Or maybe she really didn't know. She might not have received any data yet from nearby shades, or perhaps the events didn't even register for her. Maybe the consequences weren't significant enough get her attention.

Maybe if he kept quiet...

Thanasia sighed. “Very well, if that's how you feel, then—”

“I'M SORRY!”

Thanasia cringed, her ears pining back from the outburst. “E-excuse me?”

“I'm sorry!” he yelled, covering his face in shame. “I swear it was an accident! I didn't mean to! I'd do it all over again if I could! I'm sorry, Thanasia! I'm so, so sorry!” He collapsed to the ground, shaking so hard in fear that his bones rattled.

Thanasia look at him incredulously. “Calm yourself, Mort! What is this is all about?”

He gulped. “I...I hurt somepony!” He hid underneath his hood again, bracing himself for the worst.

Moments passed, and still nothing happened. No condemnation, or reproach. No sound at all, in fact. Not even a gritting of teeth. He risked peeking out from under his hooves, and saw her just staring at him in confusion.

“What are you talking about?” she asked him.

So she really hadn't know. Well, it was too late to go back now. “I-I was at Sugarcube Corner a little while ago, a-and we were playing this game...”

Her eyes showed a glimmer of recognition. “Oh, that. Do you mean what happened with that pink pony?”

The almost-casual tone befuddled him. “Y-yeah. I had a pin, you see—”

“A pin like this?” Thanasia's horn glowed, and in the air between them she conjured an image of the pin, in all its half-inch glory.

He nodded. “Uh-huh, and I...I...”

“Stuck it in the pony's fattiest and virtually least vital area?”

He was struck by how dismissive she sounded. “Y-yes...?”

Thanasia sighed. “Mort, I believe you may be overreacting.”

Mort gaped at her. “Overreacting? I broke the oldest and most important commandment! You said yourself we can never, ever hurt a living creature!”

“I remember my own rules, my shade,” she said. “However...”

“However?”

Thanasia hesitated. To Mort, her silence almost seemed embarrassed.

Finally she said, “Well, when I formulated that particular commandment, I meant that I did not want shades lashing out with malicious intent, or causing incidents that result in grievous harm. This, however...” She examined the conjured pin a moment longer, then let it dissipate. “I'm not going to get upset over an 'injury' that's barely on par with a paper cut.”

“But...but...” Mort should have felt relieved. Ecstatic, even, but some part of him wouldn't let him go. Perhaps it was some sense of duty or guilt that kept him talking. “I...I still hurt her.”

“Did you mean to hurt her?”

He shook his head so hard that his bones rattled. “Of course not! Never in a thousand years! A million years! A—”

“Yes, I understand,” she cut in. She steepled her forehooves, considering him. “My shade, you've served me faithfully and reliably for thousands of years. This 'incident' only occurred due to very specific circumstances that I doubt will be repeating themselves in the future. Pinkie Pie will likely heal before the day is out, and any ponies knocked over from the ensuring chaos won't even have bruises. If I should fault you for anything, it would just be for intentionally blinding yourself, but all things considered, I hesitate to do even that.”

Mort's forehooves fidgeted anxiously. “So...you're not going to punish me?”

“Why?” she asked. “What happened today obviously distressed you significantly, and I don't doubt you'll be more careful in the future. Punishing you now would serve no purpose.”

“Oh...well, when you put it like that...” Mort breathed a sigh of relief, giggling nervously. It was like an enormous weight had been lifted from. “Wow, I...gosh, I feel so much better! I-I mean, obviously, I still feel kinda bad about what happened and I'm going to make sure it never happens again, but when I saw you, I was really scared for a moment!”

“Yes, I notice that a lot...”

“Huh?”

“Nothing,” she said, getting back up. “Is there anything else you wish to discuss?”

“Well, now that you mention it...” He got up himself, dusting his cloak off. He had been reluctant discussing anything with Thanasia, because she hadn't liked this idea in the first place, but just now she had incredibly pleasant. Maybe she could help out after all. “I think some of the ponies are going to be upset with me. I don't know for sure yet, but I think it's sorta possible at this point.”

“Very possible,” she deadpanned.

Mort cringed. “Yeah. So...how do you think I should make it up to them? Would a regular apology work? Should I find a gift? I got a couple souvenirs from way back they might like. I'm sure there's a ring or two, and I know Rarity will like those. I'm sure I could find something for everypony else.”

Thanasia stared at him silently for a moment. “Do you want to know what I think, Mort?”

“Uh huh,” he said, nodding eagerly.

“I think you should leave.”

Mort looked at her blankly. “Like...leave them a letter? Leave them a gift?”

“No,” she said, her tone taking a hard edge. “I mean leave Ponyville, before anything else happens. Forget all about this.”

Mort coughed nervously. “O-okay, do you have any other ideas that don't involve me leaving?”

“Mort,” she said, her eyes narrowing, “since you've come here it seems to be one accident after another. You admitted yourself that things have been going poorly.”

“I said things have not been going smoothly. Things could still even out by the end!”

She raised a skeptical brow. “And if they don't?”

“They will,” he insisted.

She frowned. “That's not good enough.”

“Look, I promise I'll be extra careful! I'll make sure none of the other ponies—”

“I'm not worried about them, Mort! They're probably safer around you than with their own flesh and blood!”

“Then what's the problem?” He hadn't noticed it until then, but his voice was getting louder, almost to the level of a shout.

“The problem,” she said quietly, “is that you've come close to showing your true nature several times, and if not for freak chance, you would've been revealed already. What do you think will happen when they realize the truth?”

“Well...well we don't really know, do we?!” Mort couldn't explain where the sudden heat he felt was coming from, but he couldn't stop it if he tried. In some ways it was scary, but also somehow liberating. “Maybe it wouldn't be so bad!”

Thanasia stared at him, a stunned expression on her face. “Excuse me?”

“I don't like this,” he said, gesturing at himself. “I don't like pretending I'm somepony I'm not! I don't like hiding things from them, or-or having to twist everything I say so it doesn't sound suspicious! I can't even start a conversation without feeling like I'm walking on egg shells! Maybe...maybe if I got them together and just explained everything later...”

“Mort, even you can't be that naive,” she said coolly. “Do you really believe these ponies would want to be near you if they knew the truth?”

“Why not?” he demanded. “Luna was Nightmare Moon, but they're perfectly fine with her! They know she's not a bad pony, and personally, I don't think I'm a bad pony either! I just need to show them that!”

“Except you're not a pony.” Now Thanasia's voice was rising. “You're a shade, and a constant reminder of their own mortality. They'd be terrified of you!”

“Not if they gave me a chance!” he shot back.

“Which they won't give!”

“Celestia and Luna—”

“Are immortal, and almost never have to worry about dying!” Thanasia's hoof came down, stomping the ground. “Do you think they would be friends with you otherwise?!”

Mort's metaphorical heart stopped. The statement echoed in his head, overriding every other thought he had. It seemed the only thing that existed in the world was him and those words. His skeletal system shuddered, almost losing its shape.

“Why would...how could you even...” He looked away from her, his body quivering. The hot feeling from before had fizzled and was replaced with something icy and hard. It was a dreadful and familiar feeling, one he hadn't felt in a very, very long time.

A hoof touched his shoulder. “Mort, are you—”

He twisted away and fixed her with what he could only assume was a piercing stare. “You don't know anything,” he whispered with a quaking voice.

Thanasia looked at him in stunned silence. Without waiting for a response, he spun around on his hooves and stormed away from her.

“Mort!”

He ignored her. He went into an intangible state, and an instant later became invisible. While it couldn't hide him from Thanasia, he believed it was the thought that count.

“Mort, come back here this instant!”

He pressed on, moving into the forest, fighting an instinctual response to turn around and run back. He just couldn't look at her. Not after saying something like that. Thanasia had been insensitive before, but Mort had never considered that she had ever crossed a line. Until now, that was.

He kept moving, putting more distance between them. He could just barely make out one word from her:

“Stupid.”

He clenched his jaw and continued to walk.

It was another minute before he finally relented and looked behind him, confirming that Thanasia was gone. He extended his senses as far as they would go, but could not pick up any trace of the alicorn. Where ever she was, it was probably miles from him.

He wanted desperately to feel happy about that, feel some measure of satisfaction. Looking inside, however, he couldn't find any of that. Even that icy, cold feeling he felt had vanished, to be replaced with...absolutely nothing.

Thanasia had been half-right. It was extremely important to keep his real identity under wraps. Celestia and Luna had been some of the nicest ponies all those years ago, but it even took them years to warm up to him. And they weren't mortal...

But they liked him in spite of being immortal. Even if their time had been limited, they would have befriended him anyway. Right?

Right?

He whimpered, trying to stem a sudden tide of misery. Not only were Twilight and the others upset with him, not only was his own creator undoubtedly angry at him, but he was now starting to doubt his ties with the royal sisters. If something didn't change, he was going to be very depressed, very quickly.

He stepped onto a beaten path, and made himself solid again. He had to figure out what to do before—

And that's when he heard the screams. When he looked to the source, he had just enough time to see it was coming from three fillies. He would've learned more, but by then they had already crashed their scooter and wagon into him.

Mort didn't feel any pain, of course, but pain or not, getting run over was still pretty inconvenient. Especially when one's corporeal body was in the form of a skeleton, sans any ligaments or muscles to hold it all together. He handled it about as well as bowling pins handled a bowling ball.

For a moment the world turned upside down, and he was aware that some of his limbs had been dislocated and were now flying everywhere. Looking “up”, he saw the fillies speeding by. The one in the scooter was obviously losing control, and her two passengers in the wagon were hugging each other in fright.

Another moment later, Mort (what was left of him, anyway) landed on the ground, just in time to see the foals crash noisily into a bundle of tall bushes. The tree behind it shook, and its avian inhabitants took off, tweeting their disgruntlement all the while.

Mort stared at the bush, seeing pieces of himself leading up to it. His immediate fear was that the foals would soon step out, see the bones, and realize that they had dismembered a walking skeleton. If they simply ran away, then he could just wait until they were out of sight before pulling himself together and getting out of there. The adults would laugh off their story as just their imagination, and if they came back and saw him gone, they'd hopefully forget all about it. Worst case scenario, he'd become an urban legend.

Now, if they actually walked over to him, there would be problems. He could still feel the medallion around his neck, for one thing. While he was quite relieved he hadn't lost it, the foals would definitely notice it. If they went back to Ponyville—they would have to, since it's the only town for many miles—and reported that little tidbit, it would raise a number of uncomfortable questions. Especially if the amulet was still working and making him look like a thin-faced, pale stallion. Then again, he could also just make himself invisible before they came out...

Mort suddenly realized that during all these musings, he hadn't seen a hint of movement. In fact, he could barely make out any noises from the bush at all.

This instilled him with a much more terrible fear.

“Oh no.” He attempted to stand, but found he couldn't do it with one leg. He felt for his limbs, willing them to all come back to him. As they flew towards him, he was already floating towards the crash, putting himself back together a few pieces at a time. Ribs, femurs, and vertebrae all reattached themselves.

“Hey, are you girls okay?” By the time he reached the tree, nearly all of him had been recovered and put back together, but his appearance was one of the last things on his mind. “Please, say something!”

He waited for any sign of life. Any moment now, he thought, Thanasia was going to reappear and reap the fillies. Then they were going to look at him with big, teary eyes, asking why he had to surprise them like that and get them all killed. Then Thanasia would regard him with complete and utter disdain, say that this is what she meant about “hurting” ponies, tell him what a total screw up he was, and then Celestia and Luna would find out, and they would hate him, and then he'd be all alone for all of eternity and—

“Ow!”

The universal declaration of pain snapped Mort from his thoughts, and he saw the bushes shake as something began to climb out.

A surge of relief flowed through Mort. “Oh thank goodness, you're okay! For a moment I thought that—”

A helmeted head had popped out of the bushes, and Mort lost his voice when he saw his right foreleg balanced on top of it. The helmet had been pushed so far down that its owner, an orange pegasus filly, had her eyes completely covered.

“W-who said that? Why can't I see anything?!” The filly twisted her head left and right, and somehow Mort's limb continued to hold a precarious balance. Before saying anything else, Mort swiped the limb and hastily reattached it.

“It's okay, just give me a moment to...” Mort's horn glowed, and he grasped the helmet with an aura of magic. He gave it a few tugs, and managed to pop it off the filly's head.

The filly shook her head, trying to get rid of the stars in her vision. She looked at Mort with dazed, unfocused eyes, rummaging a hoof through a cerise mane. When her eyes stopped spinning and focused on him, she let out a frightened squeak.

“Who you talkin' to, Scootaloo?” Another pair of heads popped out of the bushes, this time neither of them balancing pieces of him. To his heartfelt appreciation, they were wearing helmets as well. The one who spoke was a yellow filly, with hints of a red mane sticking out from underneath her helmet. The two of them had the same reaction as their orange friend when they saw him.

Mort was frozen from uncertainty. Twilight and her friends had all been frightened of him initially, and not only were they significantly older, they at least knew of him before hoof. These foals probably didn't know a thing about him. From their perspective, he was probably some dark, shadowy stranger who was all alone with them in the middle of the woods. There were horror stories that started out like that.

The awkward silence was finally broken by the third foal, a white filly with strands of a grayish mulberry mane sticking out from under her helmet. “Oh my gosh,” she whispered. “You...”

Mort tensed up, preparing to run.

“You're the pony we ran over!”

So quickly did the tension escape Mort that he almost collapsed.

This seemed to break the other two out of their trance. “What are you talking about?” the orange pegasus asked.

The white filly looked at her friend accusingly. “What am I talking about? Are you crazy?” She pointed at Mort. “We drove straight into him!”

“Really?” The yellow filly looked at Mort. “We did?”

Mort hesitated a moment, then slowly nodded.

A guilty look appeared on her face in return. “Oh shoot, we're awful sorry, mister! Scootaloo was supposed to watch where she was goin'.”

“Hey, I was, Applebloom! He just came out of nowhere!” The orange filly crossed her forelegs, pouting. “Should've watched where he was going...”

The white filly looked at him with concern. “You're not hurt, are you?”

“Forget about me! What about you three?” His horn glowed, and all three were lifted out of the bush, and gently deposited on the ground. “Are you all okay? Nothing broken?”

“I don't think so,” Scootaloo said, fluttering her wings. “What about you, AB?”

“Ah'm fine,” the yellow earth pony said, taking her helmet off and revealing a big, pink bow underneath. She rotated her shoulder a bit and turned to the last filly. “Sweetie Belle?”

“I-I think so?” The final filly took her helmet off, and Mort could now see that her mane was actually a blend of color: besides the mulberry he saw, there were also streaks of greyish rose. The filly gingerly prodded her horn, grimacing as she did so. “Is my horn crooked?”

“Your horn's fine,” Mort said. While he was waiting for the fillies to answer him, he had scanned their bodies for injuries, in case there was something serious they didn't detect, or didn't think much of. Fortunately, besides some scrapes and bruises, he could find nothing wrong with them. “You're all fine, from what I can tell. Thank goodness...I thought...I...I...”

Mort couldn't control himself anymore. Feelings he had been trying to hold back since Rarity's came rushing to the forefront with the force of a tsunami, bringing with it all manner of guilt and regret. He fell on his haunches as a loud wail escaped his mouth, which was immediately followed by uncontrollable sobbing.

The fillies exchanged confused and frightened looks with each other. Applebloom cautiously stepped forward, reaching out and touching him. “M-mister? Are you okay? Did we hurt you?”

Mort sniffed, struggling to get back in control of himself. “N-no. I'm s-sorry, today just hasn't been a good d-day for me. I'm trying my best, but I keep m-messing everything up and getting everypony angry at me...”

“Ah know how that feels,” Applebloom said sympathetically. The other two nodded, sharing the sentiment.

“A-and because of me, you three could've gotten really hurt,” he choked. “I-if anything had happened to you, I could have never f-forgiven myself...” His voice petered out near the end, swallowed up by another round of weeping. For a minute none of the fillies moved, their eyes fixated on the shade.

It was then that Sweetie Belle trotted up until she standing directly below Mort's face. The pony shade calmed down enough to see her looking up at him. Without saying a word, the white unicorn wrapped her forehooves around a cloaked leg, giving it a tight squeeze. Mort gasped at the sudden influx of emotion that came with it. It was a warm and soothing feeling, completely unconditional and eager to comfort.

“There, there, it's going to be okay. Nopony got hurt,” the foal cooed gently.

Sweetie Belle looked back at her friends, gesturing with her head. Applebloom bit her lip, looking uncertain, but eventually shrugged and came over, hugging the other leg. It wasn't quite as warm, but there was a certain sturdiness to it that suggested she didn't have any ill will towards him.

Sweetie Belle looked towards Scootaloo, but the little pegasus looked away, seemingly embarrassed. Sweetie Belle glared at her, and gestured again. Scootaloo rolled her eyes and trudged over, halfheartedly hugging Mort from the side. The emotions Mort felt from her were pricklier, and it was clear the foal didn't want to hug him, but it felt like it had less to do with personal feelings, and more about having an aversion to anything emotional.

The three let go of him at around the same time. Sweetie Belle looked at him hopefully. “Do you feel better?”

Mort considered it. While he still didn't feel good about what happened, it didn't seem quite so overwhelming now. It was kind of funny; usually he was the one comforting foals.

“Yes,” he said, nodding affirmatively. “Thank you.”

“Yer welcome!” Applebloom said.

“Good, I hate that sappy stuff,” Scootaloo remarked, sticking her tongue out. This earned her a dirty look from her two friends, which in turn made her adopt a guilty look. “Still, uh, sorry for hitting you and everything, mister...?”

“Mort,” he said, “and don't worry about it.” He patted her on the head, making the filly grumble to herself.

Applebloom's eyes suddenly lit up. “Hey, wait a sec! Do you think our special talent could be cheering ponies up?”

In a flash, the three had grouped together, and as a whole looked expectantly at their flanks. Mort had overlooked it before, but all three of them didn't have their cutie marks yet.

After a few seconds passed, the fillies sighed and hung their heads in disappointment. “Ah was so sure that was it this time.”

“Just one more thing to cross off,” Scootaloo said, kicking at a small pebble.

“Cross off?”

“Yep! We're the Cutie Mark Crusaders,” Applebloom declared.

Sweetie Belle joined in, saying, “We're dedicated to helping ourselves and other ponies find their cutie marks!”

Mort found the enthusiasm contagious, and grinned. Granted, he was always grinning, but if he had lips, he would take the effort to grin now. “Sounds like a good time.”

“It's awesome!” Scootaloo said, floating up into the air. “Sure, it can be a real pain occasionally, but it's really fun most of the time!”

“Well, I wish you the best of luck,” he said, “but I gotta get going now.”

“Hey, mis—er, Mort,” Applebloom started, “what were you doin' all the way out here, anyway?”

“Did it have something to do with what you said earlier?” Sweetie Belle asked.

Mort sighed. “Yeah, but it's not something you girls need to worry about.” He stuck his hoof out towards Scootaloo. “Thanks for cheering me up, though, and sorry about earlier.”

The filly blushed. “Nah, don't worry about it,” Scootaloo said dismissively. “They're right, it was my bad, I probably took my eyes off the road for a second.”

Mort bit his tongue, so-to-speak. Technically the pegasus filly had been right the first time, since he had come out of nowhere almost literally. He felt responsible for their injuries, minor as they were.

Scootaloo reached out to shake Mort's hoof, but paused to look at it. “Do they do hoofshakes like that where you're from?”

“What do you mean?” Mort looked down at his hoof, seeing that the toe was pointing straight down. Mort made the action of spinning his arm, and then the toe was pointing upward. He relaxed, and it pointed down again.

He rested the hoof on the ground, and stood his other hoof next to it. Immediately, he could tell there was something wrong: while the left forehoof's toe pointed forward, the other one pointed backward. He then remembered it being the same foreleg he had reattached, after he found it balancing on Scootaloo's head.

“Well, that's not right,” he said casually. “Must have been the...crash...?”

The three fillies were staring at him, their mouths hanging open. Mort finally realized the implications of his words.

He cleared his throat. “Um, this isn't really as bad as it—”

All three fillies screamed at the same time, reaching such a pitch that his bones vibrated.

“It's backwards!” Sweetie Belle yelled, tugging at her mane. “His entire hoof is backwards!”

Scootaloo anxiously hopped from one hoof to another, never having more than one on the ground at the same time. “Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh!”

“You said you weren't hurt!” Applebloom shouted, a hint of accusation in an otherwise terrified voice.

“I'm not hurt!” he insisted.

“Did you hear that?” Applebloom grabbed Scootaloo and started to shake her like a rag doll. “We twisted it so bad he can't even feel it anymore!”

“Applebloom, that's not what I—”

“What if it's worse than that?” Sweetie Belle said. “What if we hit him so hard his entire heart and stuff got twisted around too?!”

“Sweetie Belle, that's not anatomically—”

“Wait!” Scootaloo said. “I just remembered we have a first aid kit at the clubhouse! We could use that!”

“Scootaloo, really, I don't need first aid—”

“Good idea, Scootaloo! Let's get the wagon pulled around, and we'll load him up!” Applebloom and Scootaloo rushed to the bushes, scrabbling around within to pull out their vehicles.

“Girls, if you just let me finish—”

“Don't panic, Mort!” Sweetie Belle was now tugging at his robes. “Everything will be fine so long as you don't panic!”

“But I'm not—”

“I said DON'T PANIC!”

Mort stared silently at the shivering, nerve-wrecked filly. She was breathing like she had just run a marathon and looked moments away from crying. A number of responses floated around in his head, but so far he could barely get a word in edgewise. The fillies were convinced that something was wrong, and were not going to believe anything else until they were too tired to think otherwise.

He sighed in defeat. There were times when the best thing to do was just to go with the flow, and hope it didn't lead to a waterfall.

“Alright,” he told her gently, “I promise I won't panic.”

This had the desired effect. Some of Sweetie Belle's own panic drained out of her, and she allowed a smile to work its way in. “Pinkie Promise?”

“Yes, Pinkie...” The shade trailed off. “Wait, Pinkie Promise?”

Before he could inquire further, the scooter and wagon rattled up behind him. Scootaloo and Applebloom jumped out, joining their friend.

“Alright,” said Applebloom, “now we gotta carefully get him inside the wagon.”

“No time!” Just barely after she had finished saying it, Scootaloo shot forward and heaved the pony shade into the wagon, much to his chagrin.

“I could have just climbed in,” he grumbled as he got back on his hooves. A moment later Applebloom and Sweetie Belle jumped in, landing in front of him. There was just enough room in the wagon for two foals and an adult pony. Slightly more, in fact, when the “adult” wasn't taking up space with things like fat and muscle.

Applebloom finished tightening her helmet, and then pointed forward dramatically. “Wing it, Scootaloo!”

Scootaloo jumped onto the scooter, flexing her tiny wings. “Hang on to your flanks!”

The fillies grabbed the edge of the wagon as if their lives depended on it, sharing a nervous look. Mort looked at them, wondering what had them so nervous.

Scootaloo started to flap her wings. And flap, and flap, and flap...and soon the filly was lifting herself off the ground a few inches at a time, lifting the scooter with her. She was going to make sure they took off as quickly as possible.

Mort watched in amazement. The wings were now beating so fast a hummingbird would have had trouble keeping up. Then, all of a sudden, she dropped down, her wings changed direction—

And Mort suddenly remembered that they had hit him hard enough to scatter him everywhere.

“Oh noooooooooo!”

Mort's voice was almost lost in the wind as the four of them took off, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake.

Mort had flown fast before. A shade had to be fast to keep up with all the deaths in the world, especially if they were to occur minutes apart from one another on opposite sides of a continent. The thing, however, was that he had always been intangible during such times, meaning he didn't have to worry about things like gravity or air resistance. Even light encountered more resistance than he did.

He wasn't intangible this time. This time, he was flailing in the wind as Scootaloo rocketed through the forest, taking turns and paths that would have given a Wonderbolt pause. And if it wasn't bad enough that the sudden acceleration had sent his forehooves reeling in the air, his cloak was now billowing out like a parachute, dragging him back and over the rim of the wagon.

Just as he felt he was going to fall out through the back, two pairs of hooves grabbed his cloak, and pulled him back in.

“You alright?” Sweetie Belle asked, her voice almost drowned out by the rushing wind.

“We did tell you to hold on,” Applebloom reminded him.

Mort only grumbled in response.

They raced over a rocky path, causing their teeth (and his case, bones) to rattle. Pebbles flew from underneath the scooter, forcing the fillies to shield themselves. Mort tried to shield himself too, not because they hurt, but because he didn't want pebbles bouncing around like pinballs in his rib cage.

“Don't you think we should slow down?” he asked, as the last pebble bounced off his cloak.

Applebloom stared at him incredulously. “In your condition, Mort? We can't spare even a second!”

“Girls, really, even if this was as bad as it looked, I don't think—”

“LEAN LEFT!”

“What does she mean lean AHH!”

Mort and the others practically threw themselves to the left side of the wagon as it went around a sharp turn. Even with that, the wagon tilted and for a moment was balanced on only its right wheels. Mort dared to looked behind himself, and saw a drop that overlooked large batches of thorn bushes.

The moment passed and they came crashing down, landing as a heap inside the wagon. Mort quickly got up and looked back, just in time to see the cliff vanish behind a hill.

“How have I not met you girls yet?”

“What was that?” Applebloom asked.

“Uh, nothing...”

“Heads up!”

The passengers looked ahead to see Scootaloo traveling underneath a series of low-hanging branches. Scootaloo and her friends ducked their heads, missing them completely. Mort ducked along with them, his head just low enough to miss the branches.

His horn was a different story.

Sweetie Belle's head popped out from underneath a pile branches and twigs. She scooped one up, giving it a confused look. “Where did these come from?”

“Couldn't tell you,” Mort said. He looked back to see the trees they passed, their branches replaced with atomically smooth stumps.

At last, it seemed that the path had stabilized. There were no sharp turns, no steep cliffs, no bumpy roads. Just a smooth, dirt path that, for all he knew, existed solely because of the foals he rode with.

Mort took the moment to relax himself, leaning back in the wagon so that only his hood caught the wind. He felt the air wash over him, blowing around him and traveling through his hood. It was certainly...different. He sometimes overhead ponies gush at the sensation of their manes or feathers blowing in the wind as they sped off somewhere. While he couldn't relate for obvious reasons, he also couldn't see what was so enticing about it. It was just wind.

Now, though...while he still couldn't experience it the same way ponies did, he had to admit that there was something thrilling about it. He would have to seal his cloak up so he wouldn't struggle so much, but maybe when he had the chance he could just fly while tangible. Stretch his wings out and—

“We're here!”

Learning his lesson from last time, Mort had the good sense to brace himself. The wagon skidded across the earth, digging up soil and grass, before it came to a halt. The shade and fillies sitting in the wagon plopped back down as it stopped, all three happy for the much less disastrous stop.

Pulling his hood back a little, Mort got a look at where they were. The wagon had stopped at the base of a ramp, that met another ramp halfway up a tree to form an L-shape, which lead into a treehouse. Mort has seen treehouses as he traveled across Equestria, but they were all relatively rickety and a little shabby, as to be expected from their young architects. This one, however, looked almost suitable enough to live in: it had a door and windows panes, was surrounded with guard rails, and assuming that the top window wasn't for show, it also had a second floor. Tilting his head back to see further up, he could see that sticking out of the top of the tree was a little watch tower, where the end of a telescope peaked out from within.

“Wow.” It wasn't an architectural marvel by any means, but if foals had built this, it was certainly impressive.

Scootaloo zipped over, taking her helmet off. “Should we make a stretcher?”

Applebloom took her helmet off and shook her head. “That'd take too long! He needs medical attention pronto!”

“Could you walk up there if we helped you?” Sweetie Belle asked him.

Mort wanted to tell them he could walk on his own, but figured it was best to play along for just a little longer. “Sure.”

“Ah'll help ya, then,” Applebloom said, helping him out of the wagon. “Just per yer leg around my shoulder, okay?”

“Well, okay...” It was an awkward thing to do, given her smaller size. He was practically stepping on her. Still, he was pretty light even when solid, and the filly didn't seem to mind the weight. What she did notice, though, became apparent when she shivered suddenly. “Gosh, yer hoof's cold!”

“Um, that's bad, isn't it?” Scootaloo asked, some panic injected into her voice. “It's like the middle of the day!”

“We gotta hurry!” Sweetie Belle started shoving at Mort from behind. At the same time, Applebloom started to walk forward, and Scootaloo bit onto a part of his cloak and started to drag him.

“Whoah, hey, slow down, girls! I'm moving, okay?” The four of them half walked, half stumbled up the ramp and into the tree house. The insides were moderately furnished, with a couple tables in the corner and a little shelf for books, plus a lamp that hung from a rope in the center. Some stairs went up to the second floor, and hanging on the wall were framed pictures and posters, including one that had scribbles of several buildings with a red X going through each of them. It took a Mort a moment to realize that some of the buildings were from Ponyville.

There was also a red-and-white target circle on the floor, but Mort had no idea why. Maybe they were changing the game up these days.

He was lead to the center of the room, and sat down. “Now, you just sit tight, mister!” Applebloom said encouragingly. “We're going to take good care of ya!”

The three of them then ran over to a large chest that sat against the wall. They flung it open and began to dig into it, throwing out a skull-and-bone bandana, swimming flippers, old newspapers, a climbing rope...Mort was sure the ponies had a word for all of this. It may have been “junk”.

While he waited, his eyes drifted over to the book shelf, silently reading off the titles he saw: Green Eggs and Hay, Where the Zap Apples Grow, Cloudy with a Chance of Hayfries, The Manticore and the Mouse, The Very Hungry Appelox...

His reading was interrupted by the sound of hooves, and he looked to see the three fillies scrambling back towards him, each now wearing a nurse cap. They skidded to a stop in front of him, where they laid out the first-aid kit in between all of them.

“You okay so far?” Applebloom asked.

“Er, yes?”

“Then let's get to work!” Scootaloo announced, and all three pulled something out of the first aid kit. Scootaloo wore a stethoscope, Sweetie Belle had a blood pressure meter hanging around her neck, and Applebloom was holding a thermometer between her teeth. They all held rolls of cloth bandages. “Ready?”

“Ready!”

“Ready!”

All three took a breath, and then...

“CUTIE MARK CRUSADER DOCTORS!”

The tree house shook, and the window panes rattled. A sudden feeling of dread came over Mort. He had reached the waterfall, and was beginning to think that there were very sharp rocks waiting for him at the bottom. “Um, o-okay girls, I think we've taken all of this a little too—”

He was interrupted by a thermometer being shoved into his mouth. Before he could protest, all three of them darted forward and started to wrap him up. Whether it was out of fear of something else being broken, or had been swept up in the excitement, they continued from his foreleg and started to wrap up the rest of him.

“Now wait a mmph!” A roll of bandages were wrapped around his muzzle, and soon the trio were going in circles around him, wrapping him with whatever they had on hoof, though thankfully they never bothered to think about taking his cloak off. Within moments nearly every square-inch of him had been wrapped, his black cloak almost completely hidden by the white bandages.

“Do you think that's enough?” Sweetie Belle asked her friends.

“Ah don't think it matters. We're plumb out!” Applebloom held the first aid kit up, and held it upside down to demonstrate.

The three fillies stood in front of Mort. The pony shade fumed slightly, now wishing he had been a teeny more assertive about the whole situation. He wondered if all patients felt like this at some point, where getting healed almost seemed more inconvenient then staying hurt.

“You feelin' better yet?” Applebloom asked.

Mort looked flatly at Applebloom, flicking his eyes at the bandaged muzzle. Giggling in embarrassment, Applebloom reached up and removed it. “Oh, right. Sorry about that. Better?”

“Much,” he said appreciatively.

“Hey, what's the thermo-thingy say, anyway?” Scootaloo plucked the thermometer from Mort's mouth, examining it. “Um, do any of you know what the normal temp for a pony is?”

“I think Miss Cheerilee says it was ninety-eight-point-something,” Sweetie Belle said.

“Oh...so, what does it mean when it's room temp?”

The fillies stared at the thermometer in confusion, not noticing the very nervous way that Mort was now looking at them.

“Maybe Ah didn't do it right?”

“Well, let's check his heart rate, then.” Scootaloo put the tubes in her ears, then placed the diaphragm on Mort's chest. “You too, Sweetie Belle.”

Mort gulped. “Um, that's really not—”

“Shh! I can't hear anything!” Mort moaned quietly, knowing that no matter what he did, Scootaloo wasn't going to hear anything anyway. While he waited, Sweetie Belle wrapped the cuff around his foreleg, and begun to squeeze the bulb between her hooves. As she did, Scootaloo moved the diaphragm around Mort's chest, her ears twitching as it searched for a non-existent heartbeat.

After a few pumps, Sweetie Belle let go of the bulb, and the air began to squeeze out. “Okay, Scootaloo. What do you have?”

“Ugh, nothing! I think these things are broken.” The pegasus foal scowled and then threw the medical instrument away in disgust.

“Aww...” Sweetie Belle removed the cuff, then gathered the thermometer and stethoscope before stuffing everything back into the med kit. Mort tapped one hoof and looked up at the ceiling, wondering if they were going to stop soon.

“What now?” Applebloom asked.

Sweetie Belle rubbed her chin thoughtfully, and then her eyes lit up. “Ooh, I know! Mort, could you turn your head and cough?”

“What?!” Mort's head snapped towards her so fast his neck bones popped. Her friends, meanwhile, looked at her with confused expressions.

Scootaloo tilted her head to one side. “What's that supposed to do?”

Sweetie Belle shrugged, flushing from the attention. “I-I don't know, I just overheard it once at the doctor's office.”

“Did you ask yer sister about it?” Applebloom asked.

“I did, but she just got all flustered and never said anything...”

“Huh...” Scootaloo looked back at Mort. “Well, go ahead.”

Mort stared at her, crossing his legs protectively. “Excuse me?”

“Just, you know, turn and cough! If a doctor says to do it, it has to be for something, right?”

Mort stared at them uncertainly. After a moments hesitation, he turned his head to one side and coughed twice. He looked at them again, hoping that would be the end of it.

Applebloom shook her head. “Ah don't get it.”

“Me neither.” Scootaloo looked at Mort's, frowning guiltily. “I don't think his leg's any better...”

“We don't got a choice then,” Applebloom said sadly. “We have to get him to a doctor before it gets infected or somethin'.”

Mort tensed. His cover would be blown if he went to a hospital, or even a small clinic. Even if by some miracle they allowed him to keep the cloak on, they would know something was amiss right away.

“Listen, I don't need to go to a hospital, alright?” he told them. “I keep saying I'm fine!”

“But you're not fine!” Applebloom insisted. “Yer leg's all twisted up because of us!”

“We have to help you! If it got any worse because of us...” Sweetie Belle sniffled, tears forming around her eyes.

Mort sighed. “Alright, I didn't want to have to do this, but...” Mort wiggled his way out of the bandages until they had piled around his hooves. He stepped out of bundles, and presented his twisted hoof to them.

“Okay girls, see this? Now it's twisted...” He reached under his cloak, found his leg, and then rotated it. With a pop, the foreleg returned to its correct position. He put his hoof down next to his other one, showing the fillies that they now matched. “Now it's not! There, nothing to it.”

The three fillies stared at his hoof, their eyes bulging and their mouths hanging open. Sweetie Belle made a sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a squeak, and fainted. The other two barely noticed.

“How did you do that?” Scootaloo asked, sounding both frightened and amazed.

“Oh, I'm flexible,” he said, swinging his foreleg around a little. “You know, yoga and the like.”

Applebloom was the first to recover, a smile growing on her face. “Is that your special talent?”

“Special talent?”

“You know, like the thing you're really good,” Scootaloo said, now copying Applebloom's expression. “The kind of thing that gets you a cutie mark!”

“Cutie mark?” Sweetie Belle unsteadily got to her hooves, sounding dazed. “What about cutie marks...?”

“Mort has a cutie mark in yoga!” Applebloom said, pointing at him.

Sweetie Belle shook her head in an attempt to clear it. “Didn't we do that yesterday?”

“No, we did judo yesterday,” Scootaloo said, gingerly rubbing her forehoof. “I can still feel that brick...”

"Ah tried to tell you that brick breakin' was karate."

"Come on! What kind of martial art doesn't let you break stuff?"

Mort cleared his throat loudly, getting their attention. “Minor correction: I never said it was my cutie mark."

“Then what is it?” Sweetie Belle asked.

Mort shrugged. “I couldn't tell you. I don't have one.”

This was the wrong thing to say, and he knew it even before he heard the mortified gasp from the fillies. The three foals gawked at him, somehow looking even more shocked than when he had popped his leg back into place.

“You don't have a cutie mark?” Scootaloo's tone was one that was typically reserved for ponies who said they had only a few years to live.

“But yer so old!” Applebloom cried despairingly.

The comment had a strange, bristling affect on Mort. “Hey, I'm not old! I'm only...er...” Mort thought back to his very first memories, calculating the years that had passed since then. Civilizations rose and fell, landmasses changed or sunk into the ocean, several species had appeared and then gone extinct. Years turned into decades, which then turned into centuries, which then turned into millennia...

“I'm not old,” he insisted sourly, crossing his forelegs over his chest. “And even if I was, I don't see how that's a bad thing.”

“Because it means we could grow up and never get our cutie mark either,” Sweetie Belle said despondently. All three of them looked sullenly at their flanks.

Seeing this ignited emotions within Mort. The three of them had helped him out, after all. It was only fair he returned the favor.

“Hey, now don't be like that,” he said gently. “Just because I don't have a cutie mark doesn't mean you three aren't going to get it.”

“How do you know,” Scootaloo asked glumly.

“Everypony keeps telling us that we'll get our cutie marks eventually, but Ah always thought we'd at least get them before we grew up,” Applebloom said. “Ah didn't know there were adults without cutie marks.”

“Look, you girls have nothing to worry about.” He motioned them to come closer. “You're not like me. I'm a...well, special case.”

“A special case?” Sweetie Belle asked, approaching him with her friends.

“Yeah,” he said. “I don't have a cutie mark because...well, I can't ever get one.”

Scootaloo looked at him in shock. “You can't get one? Ever?”

“Never,” he said, shaking his head. “I have a...uh, condition. It's super-rare, and I'm the only pony I know who has has it.” He saw the looks this earned him, and quickly added, “But it's not contagious or anything!”

“But how do you know we don't got something like that?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“I'm the one who popped my leg back into place, remember?” Mort scuffled the top of her mane. “I know quite a bit about pony anatomy, and you girls definitely don't have to worry about it.”

“But doesn't it make you sad?” Applebloom asked. “Never knowin' what your special talent is or anythin'?”

“Not really,” he said. “Griffons, cows, and other creatures get along fine without them. We just need to pay a little more attention to what we really like.”

“Is that why you wear that?” Scootaloo asked, pointing at his cloak.

“Er, part of the reason,” he said vaguely.

“So what do you do, then?” Sweetie Belle asked.

Mort glanced up, recalling the last story he told. “Well...I collect things.”

“Like treasure?”

“Well, they're not exactly treasures,” he told the pegasus, “but every single one of them is incredibly valuable.”

“Like...a million bits or somethin'?”

“Oh, you could never put a price on them.” He sighed. “Not that it stops some ponies...”

The three gave him confused looks.

“It's nothing,” he said, getting up. “Well, I should probably get going...”

“Do you have to?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Yeah, you could still give us some tips!” Scootaloo said. “I don't think we've tried being Cutie Mark Treasure Hunters!”

“Ooh, Ah know!” Applebloom darted in front of Mort, blocking the entrance. “We could take you up to the farm! My sis said she was bringin' somepony over today for lunch, so we're goin' to have plenty to eat! You could tell us more about it then!”

Mort stared at her, bits of memory from this morning coming to him. “Applebloom, you wouldn't happen to have a brother, would you?”

“Ah do!” she said. “His name's Big McIntosh, and he's the strongest pony Ah know!”

“And if I were to guess,” he said, dreading the response, “this sister of yours...is her name Applejack?”

“Yeah! How'd you know?”

“I met her,” he said, hanging his head. “And, if I were to completely honest with you, it's her and her friends that are angry at me.”

“Really?” Sweetie Belle asked. “Rarity too?”

Mort looked over to the younger unicorn, focusing on the white coat. “Let me guess, she's your sister?”

“Uh huh,” she said.

“What happened?” Scootaloo asked.

“Well...”

Though he was reluctant to tell them, he felt they had a to know about what happened. It was their friends and family, after all. It didn't feel right keeping it from them. While he neglected any parts that revealed his true nature, he did tell them about everything that happened at the Carousel Boutique, the park, and finally Sugarcube Corner.

“...and that's about the time we literally ran into each other.”

His tale told, he wondered how the fillies would react. Would they be angry with him, or politely decline to bring him along.

Scootaloo was the first to speak. Or rather, whistle. “Wow, that sounds pretty bad.”

“I'm so sorry,” Sweetie Belle said sympathetically.

He looked at her in disbelief. “You're sorry? Aren't you angry about what happened with your sister?”

“Well, I'm sad it got destroyed, because I remember her telling me how proud of it she was,” Sweetie Belle explained. “But I've did a lot of stuff on accident too. Shrinking her sweater, burning her breakfast, taking her gems without asking...”

“Yeah, if we had to be honest, Mort, we've done some pretty dumb things to,” Applebloom said remorsefully.

“So we kinda understand what it's like,” Scootaloo finished.

“So...do you think they'll stay mad at me?” he asked. “Since you know them better, I mean.”

“No way!” Applebloom jumped up, shooting him an encouraging smile. “Our sisters ain't the type to hold a grudge! You just gotta say how sorry you are!”

“Pinkie Pie and Twilight too,” Sweetie Belle added. “They had a lot worse done to them then getting pinned or buried in cake.”

“Getting pinned...” Scootaloo sniggered to herself. “If I was honest, I wished I hadn't missed that!”

“Lunch should be starting any minute now. If we hurry, we might get there just as Granny's pullin' the pies out!” Applebloom licked her lips and ran out the door.

Sweetie Belle stopped at the door to look back at Mort. “Then while we're eating, you could think about what to say when you see Twilight and the others again!”

“It'll work out, you'll see!” Scootaloo rushed out the door, and her unicorn friend followed right behind her.

Mort stood in the center of the room, processing what he'd been told. Twilight Sparkle had told him at the park that all he had to do was apologize as well, but that was before he had caked her and hurt Pinkie Pie. But none of that seemed to have been a big deal to them. Some of them even found it a little funny. Even Thanasia hadn't thought it was a big deal.

Speaking of which...he had to apologize to Thanasia the next chance he got as well. He still thought what she said was unacceptable, but she was still his creator. Ignoring her like he did also didn't do him any favors.

But he could worry about that later. He would have to, because he couldn't keep agonizing over how things could have gone differently. It was something he always told wayward souls, so it seemed about time to follow his own advice. And the only way to know if Twilight and the others would forgive him would be to ask them upfront.

Applebloom's voice came in from outside. “Are you comin', Mort?”

“On my way!” He trotted down the ramp and climbed into the wagon, taking his place behind Applebloom and Sweetie Belle.

“Mort, before we go, could you do us one favor?” Applebloom asked.

Mort nodded. “Name it!”

“Please don't tell our parents we ran you over!” Sweetie Belle brought her hooves together and shot Mort one of the most pleading looks he had ever seen.

“Yeah, I don't want to lose my scooter!” Scootaloo added, mimicking her friend's face.

“And mah sister would tan mah hide if she found out!” Applebloom joined her friends, and all three were now giving him the desperate, wide-eyed looks that only children in potential trouble could pull off.

The answer was easy. “I promise, if you do one thing for me,” he said.

“An' what's that?”

“That stuff I mentioned, about my cutie mark and everything? Could we keep it between ourselves?”

Scootaloo nodded, holding a hoof to her chest. “Sure, your secret's safe with us!”

“Not the leg, either,” he added. “Otherwise they...well, they're going to wonder how it got like that.”

“Good point,” Sweetie Belle said. “But can we still ask you about the stuff you do?”

“Absolutely.” While he had been trying to create a good story since this morning, by now he believed he had a solid idea of what to say. So long as he remained vague and didn't make too many definite statements, he should be okay. At least, he hoped so.

“Alright, let's get going! And hang on this time, Mort!”

Mort didn't need to be told twice. He and the other two secured themselves, giving Scootaloo the go ahead. She took off, and this time Mort did not go halfway out the back.

The sun closed in on its zenith, and below the Pale Pony traveled to his next destination, riding in a little, red wagon.