Elementals of Harmony

Chapters

Gathering Clouds
Plans Making Contact
Even on the Battlefield
From the Mouths of Foals
Intermezzo
Omens and Portents
First In, Last Out
Allies Assembling
Plight of Foal's Betrayal
Interlude: Copicornia
Odd Ends
Rejoin Forces
Weatherfight
Shattered Sky
Power Creep
Up and Down, Over and Through
Cleanup Step
Epilogue: It Never Fails
Glossary of Terms
Steepleplanechase

Gathering Clouds

It was a beautiful morning in Ponyville. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and as a certain trio of florists could attest, the town had been mercifully crisis-free for almost two weeks now, ever since the Great and Powerful Trixie had returned to declare her undying love for Twilight Sparkle while under the influence of a staggering amount of poison joke.

Aside from Twilight still blushing furiously whenever somepony hummed "The Wedding March", things had returned to an enjoyable normalcy. Representing this glorious status quo, Ditzy Doo was merrily prancing to the Sugarcube Corner for her first muffin of the day. She even had a song for the occassion. "Muffins, muffins, roly poly muffins. Muffins, muffins, eat 'em up—" She then interrupted herself with a horrified gasp.

"Omigosh! What is it? Did Pinkie Pie find somepony she's never seen before? Wait... I'm Pinkie Pie. Silly unattributed dialogue!" Indeed, the resident party pony had emerged from the bakery, apparently summoned by the sound eerily similar to her own reaction to the mentioned scenario. "Oh, hi Ditzy! Your usual?"

The grey-coated pegasus slowly dragged her gaze from the Corner to Pinkie. To the earth pony's astonishment, both canary-colored eyes were unwaveringly focused on her. "Oh wow!" she cheered. "I don't think I've ever seen you underped!"

A brief twitch in one eyelid was all the acknowledgement Ditzy gave to that hated term. "Miss Pie," she said, "it is my lamentable duty to inform you that a miasma of a most worrisome nature and magnitude has settled around your home and place of business. I do not know how or why it came to be, but I assure you, nothing good will come of it."

Pinkie stepped out of the shop to investigate. Nope, same delicious-looking architecture as always. Still, she was hardly one to disregard mysterious, seemingly sourceless intuitions. "Are you sure? I don't see any miasma, and I'm almost positive we don't have any dead dwarves in the basement."

"It's probably invisible to most ponies." Seeing the frizzy-maned pony's confusion, the mailmare gave a self-deprecating smile, and her eyes gradually drifted out of alignment. Gesturing at them, she noted, "There's more to these than a killer chameleon impression, Pinkie."

This information was met with a delighted gasp. "Wow, you've got some kind of Ditzy Sense? That's so cool! I thought I was the only pony in the whole wide world that had that kind of ability! Well, me and my sisters. And Mom. And Granny Pie. And—"

"I think I get the idea, Pinkie."

"Well, anyway, the point is, we can be ESP buddies! Now all we need is an alien, a time traveler, a slider, an omnipotent Japanese schoolgirl, and a snarky narrator! Ooh! Do you think Twilight could be snarky enough? I'm sure she could make enough obscure literary allusions, and she's done lots of voiceovers when she's dictating letters to Princess Celestia!"

"Pinkie, this is serious!" The mailmare's eyes were focused again, as though to emphasize the point.

The other pony seemed to not quite appreciate this. "Can you do that at will or what? 'Cause at this rate, you're going to alienate at least half your fanbase."

"Ugh..."

Things finally clicked in that collaboration between M. C. Escher, Rube Goldberg, and Salvador Dali more commonly known as Pinkie Pie's brain. "Sorry, sorry. I just get so excited sometimes, it gets hard to stop myself, and before I know it people are accusing me of turning Rainbow Dash into cupcakes and I don't know where to even begin with that kind of recipe and—" Prompted by the increasingly impatient look on Ditzy's face, the bubblegum-coated mare interrupted herself by, as so many had silently asked her, sticking a hoof in it. It, of course, being her mouth. "Oo err fayin'?" she managed around the extremity.

"The point of the matter is this: Keep an eye out for any strange occurrences in the Corner. If my hunch is correct, do so especially at night, or in regards to your sanity."

Pinkie pouted indignantly "Hey, I'm plenty sane! I just choose not to use most of it." Her expression shifted to one of concern. "Wait, are Mr. and Mrs. Cake in danger? What should I tell them?"

The pegasus shrugged. "Right now, it doesn't seem to be doing anything other than making me worry. For the Cakes, I leave it to your discretion, but I don't think you should worry them over nothing. I admit, that could be exactly what I'm doing. Still, keep your eyes and ears open, and don't disregard anything that crops up on your Pinkie Sense."

"Well, that might be a bit of a problem," admitted the apprentice baker. "I'm kind of on the 'and it goes' end of things there." She looked back at her current home. "What does it look like?"

"You remember Nightmare Moon's mane and tail?"

"Uh-huh."

"Something like that, but even darker and without the flecks of starlight."

Pinkie shuddered. "Ugh. I'm glad I can't see it. Thanks for the heads-up though, Ditzy."

"Celestia be with you, my friend." The mailmare crouched for takeoff.

"Wait! Aren't you going to get your muffin?"

Never had Pinkie Pie seen so serious an expression on the face of the normally happy-go-lucky pastry aficionado. "I never thought I would say this, but this is no time for muffins, Pinkie." With that, Ditzy Doo took to the skies, leaving an astonished ex-rock farmer beneath her.

As much as she wanted to more closely investigate the Sugarcube Corner, Ditzy had a job to do, and neither rain nor sleet nor ominous, soul-curdling energy buildup would keep her from her appointed rounds. In any case, her duties proved a boon, for the bakery was far from the only place in Ponyville exhibiting a strange aura. Visiting every house in town proved a convenient way of bringing each such building to her attention. Once she had completed her route, the underlying pattern was obvious: A building bore an anomalous aggregation if and only if it was the residence of a bearer of an Element of Harmony.

Once she determined this, it led to a hunch too compelling and worrisome to ignore. Thus, it had to be tested. That night, after tucking in Dinky, Ditzy made her way up to her attic. The storage space was filled with mementos of a life she'd hoped she was done with. "You were right," she muttered to nopony in particular, "you can't ever really get away from it, no matter how hard you try."

Once she found the specific item she'd been looking for, she made her way to the Everfree Forest. What she had in mind would by no means be easily overlooked, but if she did it here, it would hopefully be dismissed as just another inexplicable occurrence in the uncontrollable wood.

Setting herself on a feral cloud, Ditzy took a moment to contemplate the implement she'd brought with her. By most accounts it appeared to be nothing more than a common headband, easily donned given a bit of hoof-wing coordination. What made it stand out was the muffin projecting from the center. Aside from its innate incongruity, the baked good was carved from stone and attached to the cloth by a circular band of steel. But, as the pegasus well knew, no Equestrian geologist would be able to say precisely from what manner of stone the lifelike pastry was carved.

Given that, Ditzy's thoughts began to wander to her own strange qualities. Obviously, she was a very unusual pegasus. Once she went above a certain altitude, she lost all sense of direction, as she'd demonstrated in almost every past Winter Wrap-Up. (Though she had to wonder, why exactly did she keep getting assigned to migratory bird retrieval?) She lacked the effortless grace of many of her kin, especially when it came to not dropping things on the flightless. (She swore she'd never let her cousin talk her into helping his moving company again.) And for whatever reason, she was simply more comfortable on the ground than in the clouds, something for which she'd become quite thankful since Dinky's birth. That her daughter was a unicorn had come as little surprise to her, and not just given the girl's father.

As with so many things, it came back to Ditzy's eyes. While they wandered in their sockets like bored foals if she didn't force herself to focus, they made up for it by seeing things that other ponies simply couldn't. It had taken her years to realize that not everypony in Cloudsdale could see the shining barriers under each hoof that kept them from falling through the clouds, or how they were a different color and shape than the ones supporting the rare unicorn or earth pony visitor. She'd been the only member of her class in flight school to be dazzled not just by a legendary Sonic Rainboom, but the prismatic glow that attended Rainbow Dash's flanks in the minutes after her cutie mark appeared. (And explaining that that was the reason she'd been staring at said flanks had been an ordeal in and of itself. Suffice to say, she could confirm that the rumors regarding Dash's sexuality were just that.) As for when she'd gotten her own cutie mark... Well, glowing flanks were the last thing on her mind at the time, and for very good reasons.

Ah yes, her bubbles. For what was a bubble? (A tiny part of her mind suggested in Pinkie Pie's voice, "A miserable pile of lipids.") Clearly foam had little to no bearing on her job or personal life. But as with many cutie marks, there was a deeper symbolism there. For though Ditzy Doo couldn't keep track of north or south, there were stranger dimensions that came far more intuitively to her. If she lacked a certain degree of dexterity with hooves, that didn't mean she did not possess a stunning agility in more cognitive and arcane maneuvers. No, her bubbles were not envelopes of soap and air, but time and space. Fragile things, yes, but only in comparison to the rapacious medium in which they floated. For the day she earned her cutie mark, when she saw the orbs that defined her flank and her soul, she learned of her true nature. Her one-in-a-trillion kinship with something greater than Cloudsdale, Ponyville, or Equestria as a whole. A horrible blessing, an awesome curse, a destiny known only as...

With a shake of her head, the mailmare realized that she was woolgathering, trying to put off what she'd come here to do. In any case, she could see magic, even manipulate it to a degree beyond her winged heritage. With the muffylactery she'd brought with her, she could work spellcraft with far greater ease than normal. Both despite and because of the Everfree's fearsome reputation, she wanted to take as little time as possible in this endeavor. With practiced motions, she tied it into place, the stone muffin lying on the exact point on her head where a horn would were she a unicorn. With that, she focused her conscious mind on the arcane processes of the spell even as she let her memory continue to wander. It lingered on the lush growth of Sweet Apple Acres. It fondly regarded the accumulations of cloudstuff that made up her hometown. And most importantly for what she was attempting, it recalled an endlessly winding river in a world that perhaps only a handful of others in all of Equestria might ever even know of, much less see for themselves.

As Ditzy drew from these recollections, the muffin on her forehead began to glow with an azure luminescence that brought to mind the sky at high noon. With an utterance somewhere between whinny, shout, and song, she brought her forehooves together. Before her there appeared a massive, brilliant sphere of the same hue as her muffylactery's light.

This orb vanished like a popped soap bubble, leaving behind an equally large being of vastly more surreal countenance. The creature resembled nothing more than a huge fish with feathered wings instead of pectoral fins. In place of a tail, it continually shed that selfsame sky-blue energy in the form of thousands of luminous birds.

As this bizarre creature seemed to contemplate Ditzy, and she it, this shedding began to spread across the thing's form, becoming a full-fledged dissolution. Fluorescent flocks freed themselves from the flying fish, flapping for futile, fleeting moments of freedom before fading to nothingness themselves. The fish, oddly, seemed not to mind this avian decomposition, continuing to gaze as inquisitively as a fish could at its summoner until it could gaze no more.

As the last vestiges of the mulldrifter evanesced, Ditzy gave a weary sigh. Her brief communion with the thing, the very idea of careful contemplation given flesh, had made much clear to her. She now knew precisely why the strange buildup of magical energies was taking place around each Element's bearer. More importantly, she now knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was the only being in Equestria with the knowledge, the ability, and the muffins necessary for addressing the situation before it came to a catastrophic head.

Taking off for home, she summarized her reaction to this knowledge in a single sentence. "It's a good thing that tomorrow's Sunday."

Ditzy Doo, Perception Adept 1UU
Planeswalker — Ditzy
+2 - Look at the top card of each library.
-2 - Creatures you control gain hexproof until the beginning of your next turn.
-7 - You get an emblem with "You may look at the top card of your library at any time." and "Your opponents play with their hands revealed."
3

Plans Making Contact

The sun shone bright on another new day in Ponyville, but one resident was staying indoors regardless of the beauty outside, busy with a plan that would ensure that everypony could continue to enjoy such days without fear of calamity or catastrophe.

Ditzy Doo was also hard at work. Though there was no mail to deliver, that meant that she could split the day between Dinky and keeping every bearer of an Element of Harmony appraised of the situation she'd found them in. However, there were a few issues she'd have to figure out before she could do the latter. Each of the areas of high magical density had a different character to it, no doubt influenced by the unique nature of the Element that was attracting that magic. In a strange display of convenience that the pegasus had seen more than once before, five of the elements had delineated themselves along the five colors of magic she'd learned about in her earlier days, the exception being Magic itself.

As she'd so bombastically reminded herself last night, Ditzy Doo was a planeswalker, a being capable of moving between different planes of existence through an exertion of magic and will. Each plane possessed its own slightly different physical and magical laws, its own ecosystems and societies, and could be as small as a few square miles or as large as an entire multigalactic universe. And yet, throughout all of these myriad worlds, a few things remained constant, among them the colors of magic. White, red, green, blue, and black made up that mystical rainbow, and in the time she'd spent searching for her home, Ditzy had found it essential to learn the nature of each and the general demeanor of their users.

The Sugarcube Corner bore the most dangerous aura, saturated with black mana, the energy of death, decay, and madness. The Element of Laughter, it seemed, truly encompassed all laughter, not all of which was friendly, innocent, or even sane. Fortunately, the bakery was also home to the pony most receptive to her warnings. Ditzy believed that Pinkie Pie was, if not quite crazy, then at least a few degrees out of alignment with the rest of reality. Just enough to see glimpses of other worlds, to understand that she was part of a small system in a much larger existence.

The others wouldn't be nearly as easy to convince. For the most part, the grey mare wasn't as close to them as she was Pinkie, as they lacked that awareness of something greater than their world that had acted as a surprising but welcome foundation to her friendship with the party pony. Furthermore, that lack of awareness would no doubt make them disregard as direct and overt a warning as the one she'd given earlier. Ditzy's unfortunate reputation, acquired as she'd struggled to master the aerial layout of even a small town like Ponyville, would not help matters. She might as well start wearing a sandwich board painted with "THE END IS NEAR" and march around the town square, for all the good it would do.

Ditzy sighed and shook her head. No, she could make this work. She had to make this work. There was no one else who could. To her knowledge, there wasn't another being in the world with the ability to literally see magic, and the odds of the princesses listening to some nobody who had by all accounts ceased to exist for six years was laughable.

"Mommy?"

The blonde turned from her desk, where she'd been doodling possible approaches to the subject of vast mystical cataclysm. She saw the most important reason she needed to get this done. "Yes, Muffin?"

"Can we go to the park?"

Well, it wasn't like she'd be able to figure this out by driving herself into a frenzy before she even did anything. "Of course! Just let Mommy get her saddlebags and we'll be on our way."

Dinky Doo trotted up to her mother and gave her an affectionate nuzzle. "I have the best Mommy ever!"

Ditzy's heart melted, and she swept up her daughter in an ursa hug. She only hoped she could live up to such expectations.

Nearly everypony in town knew about the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Even if you hadn't been at their hilariously bad rock operetta, they had probably crash-landed in your yard at some point, likely covered in tree sap. Opinions, unsurprisingly, were mixed. Any foal who wasn't named after jewelry or an eating utensil thought the Crusaders were the coolest thing since milled oats. Some adults considered them a nuisance, wreaking havoc with debatable innocence. Others thought them fools who were delaying their cutie marks' appearance by trying too hard and ignoring their obvious skills. But a few couldn't help but be amused by their antics, the follies of youth overshadowed by the thrill of excitement and the heart-warming sight of three young friends supporting each other in what was a rough time for anypony.

Ditzy put herself in this last group, only hoping that it took nothing as drastic for the trio's marks as it had for hers. As such, she was happy to have Dinky catch up with her friends (or, as the young unicorn thought of it, genuflect before her heroes), especially since Apple Bloom's brother was keeping an eye on them. So sensible a stallion would surely stop any sap-soaked sallying forth.

"I hope you don't mind having one more filly to watch, Big Macintosh." Ditzy was already hovering off the ground in preparation for her next destination, but that was no reason to be rude. "I shouldn't be too long, but, well, Dinky's a bit too young to be casting cloudwalking spells and a bit too old to be carried around."

"A bit?" cried the filly indignantly. How was she supposed to look cool in front of the Crusaders with her mother making her look like a baby?

"All right, you're much too young to be casting cloudwalking spells." This prompted laughter from everypony but the younger Doo, whose scowl and blush both deepened. Dumb moms.

"Ain't no trouble at all, Miss Ditzy," Big Mac assured her. "We should be in th' park all day. Y'all just come back when yer done with those errands in the clouds."

"Thanks again. Be good, Muffin! I love you!" With that, Dinky was, in her mind, blessedly free of the mare who she still considered to be the best Mommy ever. It was just that even the best Mommy ever was still a parent, and thus couldn't be expected to understand the complex dynamics of coolness.

"C'mon, Dinky!" called Apple Bloom. "Yer an honorary Crusader fer the day! It's time we got to crusadin'!"

Pleasantly surprised that she hadn't been exiled to Losergrad, the young unicorn admitted to herself that maybe she didn't understand those dynamics too well either.

Rainbow Dash's house was a superb example of the uniquely pegasine craft of practical cloud sculpture. Sure, other races could walk on clouds and manipulate their weather output, but no other Equestrian species thought to build their dwellings out of the very sky. Pegasi claimed that this proved their (and by extension, ponykind's) intellectual superiority. Other races felt just the opposite. To them (and some unicorns and earth ponies, for that matter), you had to be pretty stupid to think that making a building that could be destroyed by a strong breeze or prolonged drought was a good idea. Of course, there was a great deal of magic involved, but both sides had agreed to disagree, as long as the pegasi went easy on that whole "We're the best" thing.

In any case, the door Ditzy Doo knocked on felt as solid as any carved from wood, despite being little more than water vapor and dust. This came as a relief. She hadn't been sure how stable the floating home would be, given the coruscating field of red mana that surrounded it. Red magic, normally more associated with the mountains than the clouds, was the stuff of instability and chaos. Solid walls were anathema to it, but Dash's craftsmareship was apparently up to the task. Still, the crimson energy had been called by Loyalty, weighing more towards passion and emotion than mindless destruction. Destroying the home of what attracted it would certainly be a betrayal, wouldn't it?

Ditzy sighed. Magic worked by its own logic, and some parts of that logic came more easily to hers than others. Red mana was her worst subject, so to speak. Much of the path of the red mage involved acting before or, more often, without thinking. As one old acquaintance had put it, the key was to "stop worrying and learn to love the boom spells." That kind of Nightmare-may-care attitude just didn't sit well with Ditzy. Some corner of her mind would always nervously recount the things that could go wrong, and it ruined any effort to shape the power of fire and lightning. (Ironically, worrying about what could go wrong with such power inevitably caused that very event to transpire. Red mana was, in the grey pegasus's opinion, kind of a jerk like that.) Her ability to understand it was similarly impaired, since she couldn't grasp the reasoning guiding such a reckless person... if any.

Just as the bubble-flanked mare was about to knock again, realizing how much time she'd already spent here, the door opened a crack. A bleary-eyed blue head, topped with a mane colored in six hues and pointing in twice as many directions, poked out of the opening. In an odd mix of imperious disdain and exhausted slurring, the sleepyhead stated, "You have interrupted the Best Young Flier in Equestria's nap."

Ditzy rolled her eyes, which was rather more impressive for her than most. It wasn't as bad as the week after she'd gotten the trophy, but Dash still felt the need to sprinkle her conversation with the occasional reminder that, yes, she'd won that contest. It raised some unpleasant memories about the judges. The blonde didn't even see how her flying could be described as "pitchy". Oh well, not important right now. What was was that the drowsing pegasus didn't even have her eyes open. "Hello, Rainbow Dash."

This perked up the other pegasus's head for a moment before it began to slowly sink back to its previous position. "Oh. Hey, Ditzy. 'Sup?"

"Look Dash, I know we haven't always gotten along."

"Uh huh."

"I've been trying, but you probably still think of me as the doofus that can't tell north from south or the Everfree from the library."

"Uh huh."

"But I hope that, if not as a friend, then at least a colleague, you listen to me when I tell you—" Ditzy paused, sighed, and facehoofed. "You're asleep."

"Uh huh."

Well, thought the mailmare, let's try this again. She leaned to one side of Dash and knocked on the wall. The resulting tone was louder and deeper than the door. That wasn't saying much, but it seemed to work better in rousing the drowsing hostess.

"Huh? Wha? Who?" The sky-coated mare flailed her forehooves in what she must have thought was some kind of martial art maneuver. The presence of her guest registered, and she sheepishly broke out of the supposed combat stance. "Oh. Hey, Ditzy. 'Sup?"

Ditzy took a few deep breaths before trusting her voice. "Hello, Dash. I realize this is going to seem like an odd question, but when was the last time you discharged this place?"

Dash squinted at the other pony as if she'd suddenly gone nearsighted, then fully opened the door, the better to approach Ditzy with every word. "Did you really wake me up just to question my housekeeping?"

The grey mare had been prepared for this kind of response, and demonstrated it by lightly placing a hoof on a point she'd located before knocking. The point was similar to a pony' pressure points, except that instead of connecting to a nerve cluster, it was tied to the static charge permeating the cloud. There was a tremendous rumble, and then the entire house went black as pitch. Then came the lightning. This was no fleeting bolt outlived by its own afterimage, but a pillar of incandescent plasma brighter than the sun, seeming to support Dash's home above the base earth.

This whoop-shooping continued for a good five seconds before petering out. When it did, Rainbow Dash's mane bore a striking resemblance to a clown wig. Ditzy, strangely, seemed entirely unaffected. "Stay on your hooftips, Dash," she said nonchalantly. "Never know when one like that might crop up again."

She flew off amidst a "Yeah, sure," that was stunned in every sense of the word.

Years in the past, but not many...
(With apologies to Andrew Hussie)

The smell of fresh baking wafted through the Cloudsdale apartment. (Along the seams of the door and windows, it literally flowed through the thin cloud.) Smiling to herself, a blue-maned white pegasus called out, "Muffins are ready!"

"Yay!" Muffled hoofsteps sounded as the youngest occupant rushed towards the tiny kitchen. They were terminated by a soft thud and a sheepishly grinning filly's head sticking out of the kitchen's wall several inches to the side of the doorway. One yellow eye managed to find the baker while its twin examined the ceiling. "Hi, Mommy."

The mare gave a smile that combined affection, exasperation, and concern in that unique way known as "maternal". "Ditzy, I've told you not to run in the house."

"I'm sorrREE!" To the grown pony's astonishment, her daughter's head seemed to get sucked back into the wall. A moment later, the reason became clear, as she reappeared in the doorway proper, suspended by her tail.

The suspender was a slate-gray stallion with eyes identical to those of the foal he held. Opening his mouth, he gently laid Ditzy on the floor, looked at his wife, and smirked. "I believe this is yours, Ma'am?"

The baker couldn't resist a titter at the antics. "Oh, I think it's clear who she takes after."

He put a hoof to his heart. "Ah! Cruel spear of insult, thy name is mare!"

The melodrama was interrupted by a hug and a "Thank you, Daddy."

The stallion returned the embrace. "Of course. Daddy will always be there when you're being a silly little muffin."

The mare's response to this was a shake of her head. "I wish you wouldn't call her that, Derby. You'll make her into a cannibal."

"My dear Nimbus, I will have you know that I am continuing a proud tradition. The Doos have always been muffins, and we have always loved muffins! So ever it shall be!"

"Muffins!" added the dramatist's daughter.

"Are you alright, dear?"

Ditzy blinked, feeling tears she didn't recall shedding. She reflexively moved a foreleg to wipe at her eyes, but the feel of fabric against the limb reminded her of where she was and what she was doing. Namely, in the Carousel Boutique and acting as a ponnequin for its proprietor's latest creation. As she returned to a standing stance, the mailmare replied, "Fine. Just thinking."

Rarity gave a sigh of relief. "Good. For a moment I was afraid that I'd stuck you with a pin. So, anything you want to share? You're doing me such a tremendous favor that the least I could do is to offer an ear."

The pegasus bit her lip. "It's... personal."

"Ah. Say no more, I understand perfectly. I shan't barge in where I am not wanted. Now, where were we?"

As the seamstress returned to her work, Ditzy, still feeling disconnected, walked through the last hour or so to steady herself. After the twin exercises in frustration that were dealing with red mana and with Rainbow Dash, she had decided to opt for where her best color was concentrated. To her eyes, the Boutique was awash in blue mana. Some civil conversation with Rarity and an enjoyable soak in the magic of thought, air, and water would do her good. At least, so had gone the theory.

The reality was that the mentally stimulating power was sending the designer's fashion muse into overdrive. Ditzy hadn't been able to get a word in edgewise as she'd been ushered, neigh, herded into Rarity's design studio, all while the unicorn had chattered a mile a minute about a commission from Denvertigo. ("The Five-Mile-High City! Can you believe it? Oh, I always hoped that my fame would reach the stratosphere, but I never meant it literally!") Apparently, the bubble-flanked mare was just the size needed to assemble the garment. By this point, Rarity was already gathering bolts of fabric and enough straight pins for an entire bayou full of voodoo dolls, so it was clear that saying no wasn't an option.

As Ditzy had resigned herself to clotheshorse duty, she'd tuned out the dervish swathing her with cloth and had begun wandering her own thoughts. Perhaps it was the ambient azure energy that had set her mind on the path of nostalgia. It certainly could do that, but—

"Ditzy Doo!"

"Huh?" Feeling even more floaty-brained than before, the pegasus realized she was being shouted at. "Oh, sorry."

Rarity frowned. "Really, dear, I don't want to pry, but whatever is going on that head of yours must be beyond engrossing." Her expression shifted into a smirk with a hint of leer. "An old flame, perhaps?"

It took Ditzy a considerable share of her self-control (and an estimate of the number of pins less than an inch from her skin) to stay still. "Nothing of the sort!"

The elegant mare released a resigned a breath. "I suppose it was a muffin recipe or some such, then."

This formed a bruise on the grey pony's ego that she found intolerable. "There is more to me than muffins." She forced the words through clenched teeth, not trusting her temper if given an open mouth.

"If you say so. Turn, please."

"I was thinking about magic." Ditzy paused in the turn. Had she really just said that? Why had she just said that?

In any case, it prompted a cocked eyebrow from Rarity. "Magic? No offense meant, Ditzy, but I wouldn't think that to be among your interests."

The mailmare scrambled for something to cover her hindquarters, half-finished dress notwithstanding. "W-well, everypony has some degree of inherent magic. Walking on clouds, for example." Out of the corner of an eye, she could see the unicorn wince. After all, Dash wasn't the only news from the Cloudosseum that day. "And earth ponies have strength and stamina the likes of which we can only dream about."

"As Applejack can attest, yes." Rarity was now fully out of sight, presumably adjusting something in the train, or the undercarriage, or the dining car. Ditzy had never been much of a fashionista. "If I may ask, what about magic got you in such a fugue state?"

"Several things, among them the means by which non-unicorn ponies could cast spells." Tongue had outraced brain again, much to the shock and dismay of their owner.

Also to her shock and dismay was the unicorn horn jabbing a very sensitive spot as the seamstress whipped her head up in shock. "What! Why, why the very idea—" Her indignation was interrupted as she recognized the tableau before her: Scraps of fabric in disarray, and in the center Ditzy Doo performing an impressive headstand while wearing an expression of unspeakable pain. As the pegasus tipped forward, Rarity could see why. "Oh dear..."

Several apologies and a discreet ice pack later, the two continued their conversation under more equitable conditions, both seated (Ditzy rather gingerly) with a pot of tea between them.

"So," summarized Rarity, "you're saying that there's a growing concentration of magical power around the Boutique that's been fueling my recent flurry of ideas?"

"Exactly."

"I see. Now, according to what you've been telling me, at least part of the reason behind the intensity of my inspiration is because, as a unicorn, I'm much more sensitive to this manner of thing. Why haven't I seen any change in Sweetie Belle?"

The pegasus shrugged. "Several factors could be in play: Her immature, undefined magic, her spending less time in the Boutique than you, the nature of her soul. It's also possible that it is affecting her, but in ways you either can't see or don't notice."

"I'm sorry, what was that about my sister's soul?"

If Ditzy noticed the venom under the honey in that sentence, it was too late to stop her answer. "Your soul is precise, methodical, controlling; even your cutie mark is crystalline. Sweetie is more open, more flexible. Blue magic would alter her in different ways than it does you."

"'Blue' magic? Why should color matter?"

The grey mare's brain finally got around to reviewing the transcript of the conversation. Her pupils shrank to pinpricks.

"And where did you learn all of this, anyway?"

"I... uh..." The unicorn stood between Ditzy and the only exit that didn't involve an open window, of which there were none. "I... have to go pick up Dinky! Big Macintosh has enough on his hooves with the Crusaders."

Rarity stood her ground. "Not until I get some answers."

"Rarity, please..." There was one other option, but it was an absolute last resort.

"Something very fishy is going on here, and we're herbivores, if you'll pardon the waxing Pinkie Pie. Now, I want you to sit yourself back down and... and..." The violet-maned mare trailed off as her eyes began following Ditzy's. The yellow orbs were moving in a hypnotic rhythm enhanced by a small sample of the mind magic suffusing the shop.

"You will forget everything unusual I said today," the pegasus intoned, eyes still swaying in their sockets. "You will remember the warning, and should what I warned you about come to pass, you will know to seek me out. Do you understand?"

The reply was a quiet monotone. "Yes."

"Good. You will now allow me to leave and leave this trance ten seconds afterwards."

"Yes." Her own eyes still oscillating, Rarity moved to one side.

"And for what it's worth," Ditzy muttered as she made for the door, "I'm sorry."

As the planeswalker closed the door, the unicorn's response was twofold: A single tear down one cheek, and a quiet "Derp."

Derpnotism UU
Instant
Tap up to two target creatures. Pony, Pegasus, and Unicorn creatures tapped this way don't untap during their controller's next untap step.
"Look into my eyes. As if you weren't already."
—Ditzy Doo

Even on the Battlefield

Ditzy tried to effect nonchalance as best she could after resorting to magical hypnotism to end an uncomfortable conversation. It was proving difficult. Guilt was piling onto the burden of fear and incredulity that she'd gathered at the Carousel Boutique, and the seething emotions were making it very hard to focus on the questions that were nagging at her. What had caused her to drop her careful mask so easily? Why was she so willing to offer truths that she hadn't confessed to anyone in all of Equestria before now? Why did her memories of most of the time spent talking to Rarity feel distant, secondhand, like she'd been watching herself?

As she put distance between herself and the dressmaker's shop, the answer became so clear that it was retrospectively obvious. "Generosity," she muttered. The haze of blue mana that surrounded the shop was attracted by that Element of Harmony, and it had insinuated itself into a mind all too receptive to its influences. Blue magic was, among other things, about information and knowledge, and as the saying went, information wanted to be free. Even if the holder of that information didn't. It was that magic that had loosened the pegasus's tongue.

Ditzy sighed. That's what she got for not keeping up any mental defenses. Years of the idyllic peace and general absence of mind control in Equestria had made the possibility of a unicorn detecting strange magic around a pegasus seem like a bigger risk than a psychic attack. Well, at least now she knew, and that would be especially handy for dealing with the Element of Honesty. If the boutique had loosened her tongue, then Sweet Apple Acres would unscrew it completely if she went unprepared.

Deep in such thought, the mailmare wasn't really paying attention to where she was going, and as such passed by a certain tree/library. She became alarmingly aware of her location once she got sufficiently close, as did everypony in earshot. It's hard, after all, to not notice a pained shout of "Sweet Celestia's solar seraglio!"

While the crowd traded concerned looks and sighs of "There goes Derpy," the grey mare was met with a kaleidoscopic explosion of color like a continual sonic rainboom. Instinctively, she took to the air and promptly got tangled in the building's branches. As she struggled with blindness and branches alike, the sensory overload began to leak into full synesthesia. Her eardrums itched from a pulsing sour chafe. Her tongue was dazzled by a grating whistle. Her sinuses spasmed from a suffusion of repugnant yellow.

After a brief eternity, she struggled out of the building's grasp and surged as fast as she could until she hit an obstruction. The shock of impact, which mercifully registered along the intended nerves, was enough to bring her back to lucidity. A brief moment of panic was followed by the realization that she wasn't still blind; everything was white because her head was literally stuck in a cloud. A moment's struggle removed her from the puff, allowing her to warily look back at the library.

"Magic…" She'd known that the Element of Magic was, unsurprisingly, attracting all colors of mana, but the intensity of its field had been roughly that of the other Elements only a few days ago. Now it was overwhelming her mana sight like a spotlight placed an inch from her face. Yet from here, the sheer quantity of mystic energy that had overwhelmed her appeared as an innocuous aura, a thin rainbow outlining Twilight Sparkle's home. "Pure elemental magic. I can't even get close." The earlier emotional turmoil was forgotten now that she had actual physical pain to deal with. Gingerly placing herself on the cumulus cotton ball she'd hit, Ditzy decided that a brief recuperative nap was decidedly in order. Then, she'd go to the one remaining Element that wouldn't require extensive preparation to get to and through. Hopefully.

Years in the past (but even fewer)

In her forays throughout the Multiverse, Ditzy Doo had determined that there were a few fundamental constants, principles by which all the myriad planes operated. Goblins were annoying, present in nearly every plane, came in only one quantity (too many), and had an impressive talent for killing themselves. Humans were largely similar, but generally had better hygiene and on occasion had better manners. Griffins were brutish jerks, regardless of intelligence level. But the one that resonated most with her upon her return to Equestria was this: Bureaucracy sucks.

At least law enforcement was willing to acknowledge that she matched the physical description and looked like the vanished foal would after this long. Sure, it was embarrassing for a case with zero leads to spontaneously solve itself, but at least the police accepted that she was, in fact, Ditzy Doo, especially when magic corroborated the claim. But was that enough for the Cloudsdale City Administration? Of course not. As far as they were concerned, Princess Celestia herself wasn't who she said she was without at least three forms of identification.

As such, Ditzy had taken the clearest option, and the most appealing to any planeswalker: She left. She didn't leave the plane, of course. In that regard, she was here to stay for as long as she could. No, she left the city. While she was at it, she left the sky as a whole. Asking after some of her old classmates had revealed that the only pony who might still remember her had moved to a ground-town called Ponyville that was remarkably near Cloudsdale. Well, fine by her. Even with an internal compass that was more like a pinwheel, she could see the nearest patch of gravity-bound civilization and hazard a descent to it. From there, it was just finding a job.

Serendipitously enough, she'd actually managed to find one within hours of arriving in town. Asking the pink pony who'd practically imitated an air raid siren at her arrival pointed Ditzy towards the post office. When she'd walked in, it contained only one pony and far, far more than one envelope. The indigo unicorn stallion looked up at the sound of hoofsteps and sighed. "If you're hoping for next day delivery, you really shouldn't get your hopes up."

"I'm actually here for a job."

He raised an eyebrow and lit his horn. A letter floated into her field of vision. "What's the address on this?"

She frowned. "If this about my eyes, I can see just fine. I flew here from Cloudsdale. You think I 'd have managed that without depth perception?"

He shrugged, then realized that she couldn't see it. Because of him. Thankful that she also couldn't see his slight blush, he justified the request. "Look, just think of it as the easiest job application you'll ever get, all right?"

She sighed. "Fine. Incantessa Octavia Pie, 26 Eighth Avenue, Apartment 44C, Manehattan, New Yoke 46543. The 'i's are all dotted with... are those muffins?"

"Is the return addressee Pinkamena Diane Pie?"

"Yes."

"Then they're more likely cupcakes." The envelope sailed out of view, revealing a very relieved looking pony. "In any case, welcome to the Ponyville Post Office. My name is Address Unknown."

"Ditzy Doo." She looked around at the paper-stuffed environs. "How many postponies are there in this town?"

Address smirked. "You've swelled our proud ranks by one hundred percent."

"Great…"

"Have I mentioned how truly grateful I am that someone finally came to help me?"

"Well, since we haven't discussed my starting salary..." A smile that evil simply didn't belong on any pony not devoted to bringing about eternal night, yet there it was.

The purple postpony bit back a curse. Oh, this filly was good.

In the months since Ditzy doubled the post office's workforce, its efficiency had been on a steady upswing. With both unicorn precision and pegasus speed chipping at it, the seemingly insurmountable backlog shrank on a daily basis. Ponyville by and large welcomed its new mailmare with open wings and forelimbs, even if an unfortunate early accident had saddled her with a dim-witted reputation and aggravating nickname that were proving near impossible to buck. Still, she had been able to reconnect with her old acquaintances from before her "disappearance" and was building new friendships as well.

On the other hoof, there was Address Unknown. As his name implied, he was an anomaly, an unexpected variable with which Ditzy just didn't know what to do. Any attempt to get a read on his nature was thwarted by a flawless mask of snark and sarcasm. Oh, Ditzy was well enough versed in such things, but it was through experience on plane after plane that was far less idyllic than Equestria. She couldn't help but wonder if trying to manage an entire post office on one's own was so stressful that it provided an equally cynical viewpoint. Still, asking about his past would inevitably lead to hers, a subject both were happy to leave undisturbed.

One day, however, the postal workers' dynamic underwent an inexplicable shift. Instead of playful jabs and nicknames, Address was exuding raw hostility and passive aggression. Nothing Ditzy did seemed to satisfy him. Coffee was undrinkable. Sorting was unacceptably slow and error-prone. Envelopes sliced through the air with vorpal snicker-snacks as the artificial-grape-colored unicorn's anger leaked into his magic.

It wasn't until after returning from the day's deliveries to a sotto voce "Took you long enough" that the pegasus chose to speak up. At first, she tried the usual camaraderie. "Sheesh, what crawled up your nose and died?" The unicorn said nothing, continuing to sort still undelivered letters like a ninja practicing with rectangular shuriken. Ditzy approached Address's desk and in a more sincere tone said, "You know, if anything's wrong, I'm here for you."

"Who asked you to be?"

She stopped in her tracks. She had never heard such pure, barely-restrained malice in Equestria. "I'm your friend, Address. That's what friends are for."

"'Friend'? Please." He telekinetically jammed a letter in the "out-of-town" cubbyhole so hard that the building gave a slight shudder. "I never asked for your friendship."

"Well, I'm sorry. I thought that in a two-pony work environment, the ability to tolerate one's co-worker would be helpful. I suppose I was mistaken."

He shifted his gaze to meet hers. Ditzy didn't flinch, but her heart did skip a beat. There was rage there, yes, but the puffy, bloodshot eyes told of sorrow as well. "Do you know what everypony calls you when they think I can't hear them?"

"Derpy Hooves?"

"No. They call you my replacement." He leaped over the service counter for a better glaring vantage point. "Do you have any idea what it's like to have somepony show up literally out of the blue and upstage you on what's supposed to be your special talent?"

"But I don't want to replace you! You taught me everything I know!"

"And how long did that take? A week? Less? What's the point of my existence if some bubble-flanked out-of-towner can just waltz in and render me obsolete in a matter of days?"

"You think I can do this on my own? You think you could? It's only because we're working together that we're doing this good a job!"

"That's not what the town thinks! They think I'm a flop. A failure. That I was content to let the mail stagnate until you came to shake things up. They think deliveries would be processed even faster if I wasn't here holding you back! That-"

The hurt in his voice and tears in his eyes had tugged heartstrings that proved far more pliable than Ditzy expected. Thus, she interrupted Address's address in the way that felt most right: A kiss. As their lips parted and the unicorn stared agog, she smirked and asked him, "Do you know what I think?"

"Buh?"

"I think that they don't know anything about what's actually going on. I think you have no reason to pay attention to them. I think that if it weren't for you, I'd be living in a tent on the edge of the Everfree Forest. And I think that you are a very attractive stallion when your dander is up."

"Guh?"

"Now, why don't we attack the backlog as best we can, and then we can have a nice dinner for two at that wonderful-looking cafe that just opened up?"

Address's brain was, by this point, sufficiently reinitialized to offer more than one syllable. "...OK." He had an enormous goofy smile plastered on his muzzle, angst-chocked ranting forgotten.

"Do you, Desiderata Lillian Doo, take this stallion to be your lawfully wedded husband, to nibble and to nuzzle, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"I do."

Mayor Mare turned to the groom. "And do you, Adrian Esteban Incognito, take this mare to be your lawfully wedded wife, to nibble and to nuzzle, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"I do."

"If anypony has a reason why these two should not be joined, speak now, or forever hold your peace."

This was followed by a chorus of chirping crickets. In her peripheral vision, Ditzy could see that the sound was actually being produced by her bridesmares, courtesy of Pinkie-tweaked kazoos. She stifled a giggle at this.

Beaming, the mayor concluded the ceremony. "Then, by the power vested in me, I now declare you pony and wife. You my kiss the bride."

Address did just that, to wild cheers and thunderous applause.

"You're almost there Ditzy, keep pushing!"

"Smut yo-yo brink tine chewing!" One of the pegasus's eyes had rolled back into her head. The other swivelled madly about, stopping occasionally to fix an unsettling glare on Nurse Redheart. She punctuated the vaguely cogent sentence with a piercing scream that echoed in the mind of every living being within a hundred miles. She felt something shift and collapsed to her knees.

Redheart's practiced hooves had the newborn slapped, sexed, and swaddled in ten seconds flat. "Congratulations," she gushed, "it's a filly." She passed the wailing creature to her mother.

With the odd clarity of complete exhaustion, Ditzy took in the greatest work of magic she ever wrought. Her daughter. A little filly that was a bit of her and a bit of Address and a whole lot of herself, whoever that might end up being. She seemed so impossibly small, especially the itty-bitty horn emerging from her absurdly adorable forehead. "Dinky," panted the new mother. "My Dinky."

Fluttershy hummed to herself as she made her way back to her cottage, loaded down with her customary monthly resupply. She was a big believer in buying in bulk, both for frugality's sake and for minimizing the time she had to spend troubling shopkeepers. (It was also the only way she knew to keep Davenport or his sister Boxspring, owner of Mattresses and Medical Supplies, from guilting her into buying furniture.) As a result, in addition to heavily loaded saddlebags, she was also pulling a small cart she kept specifically for carrying her voluminous purchases.

Obviously, this all meant that the gentle pegasus was returning home on hoof. This, combined with eyes closed in joyous anticipation of veterinary work, was what caused her to run into an unexpected obstruction within sight of her front door. Naturally, Fluttershy's first thought was to apologize. "Oh dear. I'm terribly sorry. I should've been looking where I was going." Courtesy satisfied, the pink-maned mare could then register who precisely she'd trotted in to. "Oh, hello Ditzy Doo. What brings you here? Um, if you don't mind my asking. Especially since you haven't even had a chance to respond to my apology. Oh..." The poor thing sank under a much heavier burden than groceries and bandages: shame.

She stayed sunk for a good minute or two before realizing that the other pony hadn't even moved, much less taken offense. If it weren't for Ditzy's blonde mane and tail and the slight rise and fall of her chest, Fluttershy would've thought the mailmare had been the victim of a cockatrice. The butter-coated pegasus took the initiative with all the eagerness of someone convinced that it would bite. "Um, Ditzy? Are you feeling alright?" Carefully maneuvering her load around the possibly petrified pony, she took a look at the other mare's face.

Much to the stare mistress's relief, the local muffin fiend had not been the victim of a chicken-headed ruffian. Instead, Ditzy bore a look of distant yet immense bliss, gazing off into two distances at one or more glorious presences that only she could see. Tears, presumably of joy, ran down her cheeks. She seemed as euphoric and unaware as a lotus-eater from Homare's Plodyssey.

"Ditzy?" Fluttershy next tried that most time-honored of experimental procedures, nudging something with a hoof. No reaction. "Ditzy!" To the gentle pegasus, this was a rather impressive shout. Anypony else would rate it as a whisper, perhaps a murmur if they were feeling generous. In any case, it elicited no response. "Theponywhodoesn'twantmuffinssayswhat?" Still nothing. "That always worked in flight school..."

Mentioning that time filled Fluttershy with new resolve. Before plummeting into a swarm of butterflies, she could count her true friends on one hoof: Ditzy Doo. They were the misfits, the outcasts, one with two left wings and the other with two left eyes. At first, it had been more an acquaintance of convenience, each desperately seeking somepony, anypony whose first reaction to them wasn't dismissal or mockery. But in time, the bond had grown, and by the day Fluttershy got her cutie mark, it had matured into a genuine friendship.

The Bearer of Kindness decided there and then that if she couldn't help one of her oldest friends, then she was unworthy of her Element. She unhitched the cart from herself and dug through the arrayed bags until she found a Jumbo-Lux container of smelling salts. Waving the aromatics under the grey pony's muzzle got far better, far more immediate results.

"Huh? Wuz hapnin'?" Not very coherent results, but better and more immediate.

"You've been standing there unresponsive for at least a few minutes." Fluttershy glanced at the position of the sun. "Depending on when you got here, you could have been out for as long as two hours."

"Whuh? 'Snot pos'ble. I was... Was..." Ditzy found herself at a loss for a counterargument. She switched tacks. "M' muffin..."

The gentle mare blinked, nonplussed by the non sequitur. "Um, I didn't see one. I suppose a hungry squirrel might have carried it away."

The mailmare shook her head, thoughts gradually clearing. "No. My other Muffin."

"Dinky? I haven't seen her today." Fluttershy gave a frightened gasp. "Has... has something bad happened to her?"

Another, fiercer head shake. "My other other Muffin. He's gone, isn't he?"

Fluttershy could do nothing but nuzzle her friend, which she did. "For a long time now, Ditzy. I'm sorry."

"Right." The bubble-flanked pegasus began blinking ferociously, but the dappled sunlight still caught on a tear or two. "Right, I knew that. Thank you."

"Are you going to be OK?"

The smile was small but genuine. "You know what? I really think that I am." Much to to the pink-maned pegasus's surprise, the other pony embraced with both forelegs and wings. "Thank you, Fluttershy."

"F-for what?"

"For being you."

Show of Kindness 2WU
Instant
Prevent all damage that would be dealt to target creature this turn. At the beginning of the next end step, gain control of that creature if damage equal to or greater than its toughness was prevented this way.
"You're not a bad dragon. You just made a bad decision"
—Fluttershy, Element of Kindness

From the Mouths of Foals

In a dank basement, a dark plot had been hatched. Now, it was being raised to maturity. A weak, miserly flame guttered in a brazier, offering little light or heat. The hooded figure found it enough to complete the ritual circle. It examined its handiwork, chalk occasionally darting out like a viper to touch up some unsatisfactory line in the figure.

As the pony placed the white chunk on a low table, her ears perked as another entered the gloomy sanctum. She knew that only one other knew the ways of bypassing and disarming all the traps laid between here and the unsuspecting street. Still, there was no telling when a seemingly friendly knife might find its way into your back. "Were you followed?"

Her accomplice, unicorn horn just poking out from beneath her own robes, answered in a voice far more pleasant than its owner deserved. "Of course not. What kind of foal do you take me for?"

The chalk-bearer gave a humorless chuckle. "The same kind as me. After all, only a foal would try to summon a demon."

"Then foals we must be, but foals that shall rule all of Equestria!"

"Quiet!" hissed the first figure. "We must exercise caution until our victory is assured."

"Hmph. Well, if everything is prepared?"

"It is."

"Then let us assure it."

The two nodded as one and positioned themselves at opposite ends of the circle. Horns aglow, they chanted a harsh, guttural incantation clearly not meant for the pony throat. With the final larynx-scrapping syllable, each bit a lip and spat blood into the chalked design, which was now glowing with its own otherworldly light. Once the vital fluid hit the ground, that light turned just as red, and there came a burst of flame and a reek of sulphur. Then, before the conspirators stood a demon.

The blasphemous being was generally equine in shape, most closely resembling a pegasus in form, but its wings were as a dragon's. They, like the fiend's coat, were as intensely crimson as the blood that had called it. Its mane and tail were masses of roiling, lightless hellfire. The fallen one had materialized with a flank facing each summoner, and each thus reflexively glanced at its cutie mark. Both regretted it, wincing as they tore their eyes from the tear-inducing sight. Whatever horrid glyph symbolized this monster's domain, it was too terrible for the mortal mind or eye.

The beast made a cruel smirk at this self-inflicted pain. "Who dares call one from the depths of Hell?" Its voice was like burning wormwood: smoky, intoxicating, and unhealthy for anypony nearby.

Both demonologists were briefly at a loss, stunned by their horrific success. Finally, the one with a voice of poisoned honey answered the red menace. "Oh mighty Skü-T'lough, we bind you in your name to perform for us one service of our choosing."

Skü-T'lough narrowed its eyes, hissed and spat, and shook with rage. Still, though each word seemed to be dragged out of its maw, it answered as the grimoire had said it would. "Bound by my name, I must perform as instructed. Name your task."

"Great and terrible Skü-T'lough," intoned she who had drawn its mystic bindings, "we call upon you to strike down the accursed Sun Tyrant and usher in a new age for Equestria!"

The demon paused in mid-scowl, a terrible smile coming to its lurid lips and triple-row of razored fangs. A laugh like the last tears of hope boomed in its chest. "Excellent. Had you merely asked for me to bring you conquest, I would have driven you mad and let you slay one another. But instead, I shall carve for you a swathe of destruction the likes of which pony has never seen!" It threw back its head and let loose a full gale of maniacal laughter. Though their ears bled from the accursed black mirth, the robed unicorns joined in, ceasing only when an arrow suddenly bloomed in one's forehead.

As the body collapsed, her ally and the beast turned to behold an earth pony dropping a bow with a grin. She was clad in naught but a sheathed sword and her own corded muscles, the latter rippling 'neath her rugged coat as she drew the former. With the ease of long practice, she both held the massive blade in her mouth and spoke around its hilt. "You are skilled, witch. Most devils vanish once one of their callers falls."

Said witch gasped in both horror and recognition. "Applon the Barbarian!" These were her last words, for a breath later the mighty sword Dragonfang bit deep into her breast. As Applon tugged the stout weapon from the unicorn's black heart, she joined her fellow sorceress in ignoble death.

Crom's favorite daughter turned her steely gaze and equally steely sword on the hellspawn. Much to her displeasure, it still had not evaporated into a cloud of brimstone. "So, you remain here still?"

The demon gnashed its teeth, spread its wings, and flared its baleful mane. "All you have accomplished by slaying those foals was freeing me from this thrice-cursed seal! Now I may feast on your still-beating hea—" The creature of the abyss interrupted its boast when it noticed that the Cimmareian wasn't paying it any attention. "Hey! I'm not done."

Furrowing her mighty brow, Applon let Dragonfang fall from her jaws she spake, "Dinky, yer s'possed t' be dead. Quit that horn glowin' o' yers."

Scootaloo turned. Indeed, the lilac filly's horn has a light shining on its tip. Dinky got back up despite their protests, removing the Crusader cape she'd been using as a spooky cultist hood. Now that she could get a better look at it, she considered her horn and smiled. "Oh, that's my Dinky Sense!"

"Dinky Sense!" Sweetie Belle bolted upright, looking around frantically. "Is something gonna fall? Is it a monster? Is it bees?"

"No, it's—"

"BEES!" All three Cutie Mark Crusaders performed the time-honored Ponyville crisis reaction: panicking and running to nowhere in particular.

This was interrupted by a very loud, piercing whistle. The trio turned to look at the now blushing Dinky. "It's not like Pinkie Sense... though she was the one who named it. My horn just does this when my Mommy's getting close." She scanned the horizon, then pointed a hoof. "See?" Sure enough, in that direction there was a grey shape amidst the Sunday air traffic.

"Whoa, a parent-detection spell!" enthused the pegasus. "That'd be way helpful when Mom's trying to catch me reading Coltan books!"

Apple Bloom frowned. "Why'd yer Pa give ya them books if yer Ma don't want ya readin' 'em?"

Scootaloo smirked and replied as only a true Rainbow Dash fanfilly would. "'Cause my dad's at least twenty percent cooler than she is."

Sweetie Belle's attention wasn't so quickly diverted. "Do you think you could teach me a sister-detecting spell?"

The other unicorn filly shrugged. "It's not really a spell, it just kid of happens. It's sort of like a..." She paused, made sure the unhorned Crusaders were occupied, and leaned in to whisper, "like a mana leak."

Sweetie's eyes widened as Dinky scratched at the ground. A mana leak was an embarrassing instance of unintentional magic that could afflict a few unicorns well into foalhood, usually triggered by intense emotions or dreams. The white filly hesitantly asked, "You don't..."

"No! Not for wee— months! Almost a whole year!"

Dinky's outburst was enough to attract the other fillies' attention. "What are you two talking about?" asked a bemused Scootaloo.

The answer, in almost flawless stereo, was "Unicorn stuff."

Judging from her frown, the young pegasus found this response unsatisfactory. But before she could dig further, she was interrupted by the landing of an older winged pony. "Hello, Muffin!"

Love and relief flooded Dinky's system. "Hi, Mommy!" She rushed to nuzzle her mother, appearance be... darned. (Fillies who said bad words didn't get any dessert.)

"Hello, Miss Ditzy," chorused the Crusaders.

"I guess it's time to go?" asked the blonde filly, regret lacing her tone.

Her mother smiled. "Actually, I have a bit of business at Sweet Apple Acres. You and Apple Bloom can talk on the way. Now where is Big Macintosh?"

"Right here, Miss Ditzy."

It was a credit to her self-control that the pegasus didn't go airborne when that deep voice came from right behind her. "Oh! You startled me a bi—" The last word hung open, along with her jaw.

"Ah know," drawled the workhorse. "What kin Ah say? Ah'm a softy when it comes t' mah little sisters." Cardboard wings had been taped onto the harness he habitually wore, along with triangles of the same material that went along his spine.

Scootaloo gave a cheery grin and an explanation. "We were being Cutie Mark Crusader Pulp Heroines! Fighting dragons and demons and all sortsa stuff!"

Sweetie Belle chimed in. "It was all pretend, so we were also being Cutie Mark Crusader Actresses!"

"And Cutie Mark Crusader Storytellers!" added Apple Bloom.

All three cried out, "CUTIE MARK CRUSADER MULTITASKERS! YAY!"

Ditzy winced a little from the point-blank outburst, but managed to keep a smile going. "Well, it certainly seems like you fillies had a lot of fun today."

"It was all thanks to Dinky!" gushed the young pegasus.

"Oh?"

The bow-bearing earth filly nodded in agreement. "Uh huh. She had th' idea t' do stuff that needed a whole mess o' talents t' do real well! That way, we kin try even more stuff'n usual!"

Ditzy managed to keep herself from cooing over how adorable the trio was being. The fact that each of their flanks was still blank as the day they were born was apparently immaterial. They had been having too much fun to care. "Well, I'm afraid that will have to be enough crusading for today. It's getting late, and I'm sure your siblings and parents don't want you all out after dark." Indeed, the western sky was filling with the warm hues of sunset.

"Ah know Ah don't," Big Macintosh noted.

Moans of disappointment were quickly forgotten as arrangements were made to get everypony home. Scootaloo buzzed off with Sweetie Belle in tow, while the Doos and Apples made for Sweet Apple Acres. As the fillies happily chattered about their own concerns, the adults were, for a time, silent.

Surprisingly, it was Big Mac who first spoke. "If'n y'll pardon mah pryin', Miss Ditzy, what all do ya need t' do at the farm?"

The preprepared story came easily to mind and tongue. "A few things I need to tell Applejack about."

"Such as?"

"Well, for one, I'm acting as messenger for a surprise party for Pinkie Pie. After the one on her birthday, everypony asked me to spread the word so she doesn't go so paranoid that she starts talking to turnips again."

"...Beg pardon?"

Ditzy smiled and shrugged. "This is Pinkie we're talking about, though I admit that I got the story secondhoof from Rainbow Dash. I guess she could've embellished it a bit."

Big Mac gave a low, earthy chuckle. "Ah reckon so. Anythin' else?"

"Oh, a few things, but it's all filly stuff. You wouldn't be interested."

Given his red coat, it was next to impossible to tell if or when Big Macintosh was blushing, but given his sudden coughing fit, Ditzy was willing to guess that now was such a time. "Well then, uh... nice weather we're havin', ain't it?"

The pegasus gave a mental laugh at the awkward subject change. Ah, "filly stuff." When don't you work on stallions? "Certainly been good for deliveries. Minimal turbulence, low wind even at my usual cruising altitude, as low as that is... oh, sorry. I must sound like a flight school instructor."

The workhorse gave a soft smile. "Well, Ah wouldn't know 'bout that."

"I guess not. Sorry."

"No need t' apologize, Miss Ditzy. Ah think of it as a compliment t' mah intelligence."

An odd thought entered Ditzy's mind. "Big Macintosh, this may sound odd, but—"

"Miss Ditzy, Ah'm quite flattered, but Ah'm not interested in a relationship right now."

"What?"

The two turned to look at each other with surprisingly similar looks of confusion. Big Mac cleared his throat. "Oh. Beg yer pardon."

"No, no, it's perfectly understandable." A few minutes of awkward silence passed, punctuated by the heedless background noise of the foals. Finally, just as Ditzy was about to resume the conversation, they arrived at the front gate of Sweet Apple Acres.

Big Macintosh nodded to her. "Thank ya fer the comp'ny, Miss Ditzy."

"Thank you for watching Dinky today."

"Mah pleasure. AJ should be inside 'bout now. Ah'll go fetch 'er for ya."

"Thanks again."

"Not a problem. C'mon, Apple Bloom."

"Comin', Big Mac! Bye, Dinky! Bye, Miss Ditzy!" The filly dashed after her brother.

As they waited, Ditzy saw her daughter looking at her speculatively. "What is it, Dinky?"

"Is Big Macintosh your coltfriend?"

The pegasus sputtered for a moment as she tried to unstick her mind from this blindsiding query. Finally, she replied, "What made you ask that?"

"'Cause you made a preposition at him."

Ditzy laughed a little, but stopped once she saw Dinky's face fall. "Oh, silly Muffin, I'm not laughing at you. You just misunderstood something, is all. And you meant 'proposition'."

"OK. It's just..."

"Yes?"

"Well, I felt bad for Apple Bloom today 'cause she doesn't have a mommy, but Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle both have one and a dad, and I—" Her explanation was cut short by a sudden heartfelt embrace.

Mother whispered to daughter, "Oh, Dinky. You poor, sweet, little filly. I would give anything if it would bring back your daddy, even for a day, if only so you could know him like I did."

"It's OK, Mommy. You tell me stories about him all the time!"

"Still, just know that if there's anything you want to know about him, you only have to ask me. OK?"

"OK."

Ditzy gave her filly a kiss on the nose. "That's my Muffin." She looked up and saw Applejack coming out of the farmhouse. Disentangling herself from Dinky, the pegasus smiled. "Good evening, Applejack."

"Evenin', Ditzy. Hay there, l'il Dinky. Didja have fun with the Crusaders t'day?" The little unicorn gave an frantic nod. Chuckling, the Stetson-wearing farmer turned back to Ditzy. "So, what kin Ah do ya fer?"

The planeswalker took a deep breath. Sweet Apple Acres was currently suffused with an abundance of green mana, the energy of life, growth, and vitality. This wouldn't be that bad, except that it was being pulled in by the power of Honesty, and that made it especially inimical to tricky, sneaky blue magic. Like her. She'd been able to keep her mind off of it with conversation, but now the epicenter of that power was right in front of her. She was thus all too aware that this place actively despised her and nearly everything she stood for. "I actually wanted to ask a few questions about Sweet Apple Acres."

Applejack raised an eyebrow. "Really now? Don't see many pegasi that interested in farmin'. Whatcha want t' know?"

"Have you noticed any unusually fast or intense growth in the trees lately?"

The farmer scratched the back of her head with a forehoof. "Cain't say Ah have. Bin a fine growin' season, but Ah ain't seen nothin' outta the ordinary."

"How about the livestock? Anything odd among them?"

After a moment of consideration, the earth pony shook her head. "The cows haven't mentioned nothin' peculiar, an' the hogs seem happy as a foal in a candy store."

Ditzy nodded. "OK. Have you heard anything from Dash about clouds moving on their own around here?"

The orange mare looked at her incredulously. "Clouds movin' on their own? Now look here missy, Ah'm flattered that yer takin' an interest in this here farm, but an apple orchard ain't nothin' like the Everfree Forest." She shook her head. "Honestly, tain't like th' weather goes all willy-nilly just 'cause some trees happen t' nestle t'gether."

Off the top of her head, the pegasus could think of a half-dozen counter examples, but chose not to mention them. "Sorry. Didn't mean to offend you."

"Ah ain't offended. Ah jus' don't appreciate plum fool questions makin' it seem like there's Ursa Majors sleepin' in the south field." The decidedly unsilly pony narrowed her eyes. "Why're you askin' all these questions anyway?"

"Oh, um, bureaucratic stuff and nonsense. Red tape. You know how it is."

Applejack's expression was clear. She didn't believe her for a second. "Uh huh. An' Ah'm gonna raise th' moon in a few minutes. Ditzy Doo, Ah kin smell a lie like that from a mile away. Why don'tcha tell me what's really goin' on?"

"Because it would entail revealing a secret that I've been keeping from everyone in Ponyville for the last four years." Ditzy's eyes widened. The words had left her mouth before she even realized she was speaking. "Oh Celestia, it's the Boutique all over again." There she went again!

The applebucker looked askance at the silly pony. "'The Boutique'? Talk sense, girl!"

"Oh, I am. You just lack the context to understand it." Logorrhea at its worst. A quick metaphysical glance told the pegasus that her mental defenses had crumpled like wet tissue paper under the assault of truth magic. She had to get out of here! "Sorry, but I need to—"

"Oh no ya don't." Ditzy blinked, then turned around. How had Applejack gotten behind her so fast? "Y' ain't leavin' 'til y' explain yerself t' mah satisfaction."

"That could take quite some time," the mailmare answered all too honestly.

"Mommy?" Oh no. No. Hesitantly, the blonde mare turned to look at her daughter. Tears were welling up in the young unicorn's eyes. Oh please no. "You... you've been lying to me?"

"No, Muffin!" Oh dear sweet princess, not her daughter. But her tongue wasn't finished. "You've never asked me anything I've had to be dishonest about. Not even where foals come from." Dinky's expression shifted from sorrow to curiosity. Where was the nearest wall? Ditzy felt a sudden and pressing urge to repeatedly drive her face into the nearest wall.

"But ya have been lyin' t' me, haven't ya?"

"Yes." This was bad. This was doubleplusbad.

"'Bout what, if Ah may ask?"

"You may." Internally, she struggled for some degree of control. "Among other things, yes, the florist triplets do think you and Rainbow Dash are having a clandestine lesbian affair."

Watching the orange grow redder, then paler, then redder again on Applejack's face was fascinating, like watching Celestia experiment with the sunset. "That ain't neither here nor there!"

"That's another thing. At the risk of sounding like Rarity, your grammar is atrocious. As a postal worker and, by extension, an upholder of the sanctity and dignity of the Equestrian language, I normally find myself forced to hold back correction after correction whenever dealing with one or more members of your family."

"Why... Why of all the gall."

"For the record, I really am sorry about this. You see, your Element of Harmony, namely Honesty, has caused a dramatic rise in the ambient green mana on and around this farm, and because of my increased sensitivity to such things, I'm finding myself unable to control these one hundred percent truthful monologues. Seriously, I'm panicking here."

Applejack looked at Ditzy as though she'd grown an extra head and named it Zaphod. "Care t' run that by me again, sugarcube?"

"Sure. In four words, I am a p—" There. That deepest, most private secret. That she could hold in, if barely. That, at least, she could stop herself from giving away.

"A what?"

As long as Applejack didn't keep asking, of course. Fighting for control over her jaw muscles, Ditzy also looked around desperately for an escape route. She could go up, but she wasn't sure she could hold her tongue for much longer than this thought was taking her. That left just one option. One really, really crappy option "Again," she said, "I'm sorry." With that, she opened herself to every mana bond she'd established, flooding herself with power. Jaw agape, Applejack watched as the resident mailpony suddenly glowed a brilliant blue, then vanished, taking her daughter with her.

"Ugh..." Ditzy felt like crap. She must've used every ounce of power at her disposal, including the stuff normally reserved for use by her body for... body things. Biology and such. Never really her area of focus. Neither was teleportation, for that matter, and without her muffylactery, it had taken a ludicrous amount of power. She felt like she could sleep for a week. It was an effort to keep her eyes open, but she needed to see where she'd ended up after that teleport.

As she assessed her situation, she came to several realizations in sequence. First was that the main direction she'd sent herself was up, judging by the whistling wind and her internal altimeter frantically recalibrating itself. Second was that she wasn't alone. Third was that the other pony had no wings. Fourth was that the other pony was, in fact, Dinky, who was looking at her in awe. Fifth and last was the realization that she was rapidly losing consciousness.

Dramatic Exit 5U
Instant
Put target creature on top of its owner's library.
Draw a card.
"I go."
—Photo Finish

Intermezzo

"What in the hay was that!" Big Macintosh rushed out of the house, seeing his sister with mouth agape and staring at an empty patch of dirt. As the stallion got closer, he saw that the ground looked as though a firecracker had gone of on it, a circular blast pattern plainly evident, the pattern interrupted by a smaller, similar burst off to one side.

"Ah... Ah..." Applejack had apparently found her voice during his investigation. She shook her head, trying to throw off all the impossibilities that had gathered. "Y' ain't gonna believe me, Big Mac."

He couldn't help but grin at this. "Sis, if ya told me th' sky was green, Ah'd be wonderin' why the Princess went an' changed it. What'd ya see?"

"Ditzy Doo done cast a spell!"

The enormous pony paused at this and turned to reexamine the tiny craters. After a moment of further consideration, he arrived at a hypothesis. "She explode?" A glance at the smaller burst. "Twice?"

"No, she didn't explode, y' overgrown candy apple! She glowed bluer 'n a clear noon sky an' th' next thing Ah knew, she an' Dinky were plum gone!"

Big Macintosh chewed this over, along with his hay stalk. "Ya sure she didn't explode?"

The look Applejack gave her brother would have frightened anypony who hadn't grown up watching her perfect it. "Tain't no way any self-respectin' pony'd blow up 'er own flesh an' blood."

"Well then, Miss Magic Expert, what did she do?"

The orange pony frowned and thought on this. "Well, if Ah had t' guess, Ah'd say she teleported. Looks an awful lot like th' aftermath o' one o' Twilight's, an' she seemed awful desperate fer a getaway."

"An' why was that?"

"She was spoutin' somethin' 'bout th' Element o' Honesty makin' 'er spill 'er guts. Seemed right on th' edge o' sayin' somethin' she wanted to keep under wraps real bad."

The plowpony frowned as he came to a decision. "Sis, Ah think ya should go see Miss Twilight 'bout this. Seems awful serious."

The mare gave a sheepish grin. "...can it wait 'til after supper?"

"Applejack..."

"Aw, Ah'm jokin'. Mostly. 'Sides, Spike's near as good a cook as me if 'e ain't usin' apples."

Incident Report #5872-3377

Reporting Guardspony: Cpl. Seraph Plume

Report filed 1950, 28 Incitat, Anno Celesti 5872

Incident Description: At 1853 this evening, there was a spontaneous flash of blue light approximately five kiloponies above Mount Canterlot. After the flash receded, PFC Swan Dive reported the manifestation an adult female pegasus and juvenile female unicorn at the point of the flash. Orders to intercept were given and carried out. The unicorn was supplied with a cloudwalk talisman and both ponies were placed in custody in Sky Barracks Gamma. The pegasus was unconscious but stable. The unicorn identified herself as Dinky Doo of Ponyville. She also identified the pegasus as her mother, Ditzy Doo.

According to the younger Doo, her mother and she had been on the premises of Sweet Apple Acres, a farm on the outskirts of Ponyville, when the elder Doo emitted a brilliant blue radiance from her entire body. The next moment, both were airborne.

Custody of the Doos was transferred to the Castle Mageguard at 1935. Ditzy Doo remained unconscious.

"Twilight!" Applejack sang out, having already knocked on the library door a few times. "C'mon girl, Ah'm starvin' out here!" Time continued to pass with no sign of anyone, pony or dragon, coming to let her in. The farmer sighed. "Ah'll give this one last try, then Ah'm headed on home. Cold supper's better 'n no supper at all." With that, she delivered a solid applebuck to the side of the tree.

As a few leaves fell around her, Applejack was pleased to finally see a response. Twilight had opened the top half of the door and was now blinking incredulously at her. Now that the door was open, the earth pony could see a shimmering field that was filling the doorway like a film of soap in a bubble wand. She also realized that she couldn't hear a thing coming out of the living building. "Twilight, what kinda crazy magic did ya work on this poor ol' tree?"

The unicorn's eyes widened and she noiselessly laughed at herself before her horn glowed and the pearly field vanished. "Sorry, AJ, I'd forgotten about that Field of Silence. What's up?"

"Well, Ah—" The farmer paused for a moment as she took in the state of her friend. Without the frosted-glass effect of the Silence Field, Twilight was clearly a mess. Her mane seemed clumped into the sort of dreadlocks that form from prolonged neglect. The hair around her eyes seemed to glisten unhealthily, and the eyes themselves were both bloodshot and faintly glowing. "Oh, Twilight, what have you bin doin' t' yerself?"

The unicorn blinked in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Ah mean ya look like ya ain't slept or bathed since Ah last laid eyes on ya! Let me in, ya crazy mare, Ah'm stagin' ya an intervention."

As she opened the bottom half of the door, the librarian couldn't bring herself to make eye contact with the indignant earth pony. "Is... is it really that bad?"

Applejack turned to better appraise her friend's welfare. Twilight had definitely lost some weight, her tail seemed as bad as her mane, and more oddly shiny patches spread sporadically through her coat. One even stretched across her left cutie mark, much to the orange mare's distress. "Twi, Ah'm yer friend, so all Ah'll say is that Ah'm real glad Rarity ain't here t' see ya like this. Poor thing'd probably faint at th' sight of ya." She shook her head. "Honestly, sugarcube, this here is jus' plain unhealthy. Ah thought Spike'd make sure this sorta thing wouldn' happen."

"Spike's been asleep for most of the weekend. I think he's about to molt."

"...'Molt'?"

Twilight perked up a bit now that the subject wasn't her self-neglect. "A dragon's scales are designed to grow together into an interlocking suit of natural armor. When the scales of a young dragon like Spike become so linked together that his body can't grow any further, he sheds the whole layer. It's a really energy-intensive period, so he can't do much beyond eat and sleep. He's done it twice since I hatched him. I was so worried the first time it happened. He was still teething at the time, so—"

Applejack held up a forehoof. "Twi, this is fascinatin' an' all, but we've got more pressin' concerns 'n Spike's formative years."

"...Right." The unicorn folded in on herself in shame.

Her friend put a foreleg over her shoulders. "Ah ain't mad, sugarcube. Ah'm worried for ya. What if Ah hadn't come fer a visit t'night? How much longer were ya gonna run yerself inta th' ground like this?"

"Well, I was in the middle of refining a possible improvement of Maregan le Fey's Third Principle of Leyline Channeling, so..." Twilight grimaced. "I have no idea. Thank you, Applejack."

"No need t' thank me. Jus' promise me y' ain't gonna try an' be as big a foal as Ah was last applebuck season."

"Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye."

The freckled mare nodded, satisfied. "All Ah needed t' hear. Now whaddaya say Ah make us some supper?"

"I, uh, don't know if I have much in the pantry."

"Aw, Ah'm sure Ah can figger out somethin'." Applejack went to the library's small kitchen. "Now, lessee what we've got t' work with here..." The cupboard proved to be nearly bare, save for a single cardboard box sitting on the floor. An awkward silence reigned as she examined its contents, only to be deposed by a declaration of, "Twilight, git that scrawny behind o' yers in here!"

As she did just that, the unicorn wondered if this was how Apple Bloom felt after a particularly foolish crusade. "Yes?"

"What the hay is that?" A hoof indicated that the "that" in question was the box that apparently comprised Twilight's entire food supply.

"A box of ramen feedbags?"

"An' is there any other food in this here tree?"

The answer came out a volume normally reserved for Fluttershy. "...No."

"Ya can't be serious."

"To be fair, they got me through studying for finals at the Academy."

"T' be fair, there's more salt in that there box than all the saloons in Appleoosa!" Applejack made her way out of the kitchen. "Twi, Ah've come t' a decision. Yer comin' with me back t' Sweet Apple Acres, an Ah'm feedin' ya somethin' other' 'n a nosebag fulla instant oats."

Twilight sputtered at this sudden change of plans. "But, but... What if Spike wakes up? What if he's stuck in his old scales?"

"Well now, that all depends. Do ma dragons help their babies in such a situation?"

"Well, that depends according to species. Some—"

Applejack cut off the lecture before Twilight could build up any momentum. "In Spike's case?"

"Oh. Well... no."

"Then th' li'l fella'll be fine. Write 'im a note, get yerself a quick shower, an' we'll get ya fed right an' proper. An' then Ah can tell ya what Ah came t' tell ya."

If anypony asked, she was still the Great and Powerful Trixie. (Cue fanfare and pyrotechnics) She was just making her way through one of the switchbacks that cropped up on the pernicious road of show business. Losing one's home, stage, personal library, and method of transportation in one fell swoop could do that.

Still, it would take more than that to end the dreams of the Stalwart and Dedicated Trixie. For now, however, she had to recoup her losses, and to do that, she had made her way to the one major city easily reachable from Ponyville on hoof: Canterlot. (It was the next stop on the tour anyway.) Thankfully, the Timely and Fortunate Trixie had been able to find a decent job with astonishing ease. That said job occupied the graveyard shift mattered not, especially since it was the graveyard shift at the Royal Library, and that the opening had been made by request of Princess Luna Herself.

Working from eight at night to four the next morning was a small price to pay for a daily opportunity to interact with the enigmatic Princess of Night, especially since She was every bit as magnanimous and kind as Her older sister. To think that such a being would deign to discuss matters of politics, history, and arcane science with the likes of the Awestruck and Unworthy Trixie, why, it was a dream come true!

The Frank and Self-Aware Trixie would be lying if she claimed to have not degenerated into a squealing schoolfilly on her first night. Thankfully, She Who Ignited The Stars was as understanding of such awe as she was deserving of it. She even offered an understanding ear to the showpony's shameful exploits in Ponyville and freely offered sage advice on the matter. She helped the Abashed and Humiliated Trixie see past the wound to her pride, to see her ouster from the village as an opportunity: Here was a benchmark, a rival, a metric by which Trixie could measure her own progress as a mage. That said metric was no less than the personal pupil of Celestia Herself, well that only spoke well of Trixie's own potential, did it not? (Though the less said of the incident two weeks ago in regards to that rivalry, the better.)

In any case, this series of offscreen events explained why the Drowsy and Undercaffeinated Trixie was making her way through Castle Canterlot at half past seven in the evening, only to stumble upon a cluster of servants and guards around one of the guest rooms. Intrigued, she found one of the guardsponies whose acquaintance she'd made. "Dark, what's going on here?"

"You haven't heard?" Guarding Dark was easily recognized as one of the few earth ponies in the castle's barded retinue. While his armor made him the same uniform black as the other earth pony guards, there simply weren't that many other earth pony guards with whom he could be confused.

"Luna's pet librarian, remember?" It had been the guard's description of her when he first heard of her position, but the... Adjective and Other Adjective Trixie (she really needed some coffee) was learning to keep such friendly jabs from bruising her ego. And it was both rather accurate and kind of funny. "I only woke up about an hour ago."

"Right. Sorry, Patty." The recovering showmare held back a grimace. Speaking in the first pony was a simple matter. Enduring playful denigration was something she was learning. But having to dust off the moniker "Patricia Hobbitses" was truly a test of her will. The guard continued heedlessly, "Well, apparently there was some kind of magical mishap in Ponyville."

"You don't say..." The Opaque and Composed Trixie maintained a careful poker face honed through long experience with hecklers of all stripes, zebras included. Internally, though, she was beginning to worry for Twilight Sparkle. How could she prove herself even greater than Celestia's protege if said protege went and tripped on her own horn?

"Yeah, apparently some unicorn filly managed to teleport herself above the castle."

While relieved at the news that her rival was safe, the Puzzled and Perplexed Trixie was now faced with something new to chew over. "That shouldn't be possible."

"I know, right? Little thing doesn't even have her cutie mark yet. You'd think something like that would be worth it."

"No, that literally shouldn't be possible. Even if a foal had that kind of power, there's no way she could control it enough for a teleport. That kind of magic is so intricate, most unicorns never manage to perform it." Myself included, the Bitter and Befuddled Trixie added silently.

The sable stallion shrugged. "Hay, that's just what I've heard."

"Hmm..." The Intrigued and Alert Trixie wasn't through. In this conundrum she'd found a better stimulant than her usual. "I suppose she's asleep?"

"Yup, along with her mother. Apparently, once she'd heard where her daughter had ended up, she flew here nonstop. Both were exhausted before the maids even had the room prepared."

"'Flew'? Her mother's a pegasus?"

Dark frowned. "Now don't tell me you're one of those breed purists, Patty. I was actually starting to like you."

"Nothing of the sort. It just adds another wrinkle to this." The Thoughtful and Ruminating Trixie began running through a list of books that might be helpful in figuring this out. "Thanks for the news, Dark. If something else develops, could you stop by the library after your shift ends?"

"Sure thing. Have a good night, Patty."

"You too." Grey's Anatomy should be a good starting point. And maybe the Princess could recall a similar incident that history had forgotten...

That night, the Doos slept, Trixie cogitated, and Applejack ensured that Twilight didn't research herself into an early grave. All the while, mana continued to coalesce, and as it did so, it passed a critical threshold. Only one pony could have seen the faint shapes that traced themselves in the moonlight, and she was currently unconscious. But those shapes themselves could see much, including the many possible paths to full manifestation. One required nothing but time, but there were other, faster ways. Though only quasi-real, the forms could nonetheless subtly nudge things of equally dubious existence, catalyzing their realization. So they did.

In six buildings scattered across Ponyville, the fabric of reality began to fray. And in Castle Canterlot, a pegasus squirmed in her dreamless sleep.

Exhaustive Research UU
Sorcery
Draw three cards. You skip your next untap step.
"If Celestia wanted me to sleep, she wouldn't have created books and caffeine."
—Twilight Sparkle

Omens and Portents

"Now remember to do exactly what your father says."

"Yes, Mom."

"Don't wander away from the tour group until the tour is over."

"I know, Mom."

"And remember, if a sign says 'Authorized Personnel Only,' it-"

"-doesn't secretly say 'And Also Their Families'." Ditzy Doo, caught in the gangly grip of pegasus puberty, smiled at her mother. "We've been doing this for five years, Mom. I think I've got a handle on it."

Nimbus Lace bit her lower lip, then burst into tears, sweeping her wings around her daughter. "My baby is growing uh-huh-hup!"

"Moooom..." At least, reflected the younger blonde, they weren't in public.

Eventually, Nimbus released the pony who, in her mind, would always be her darling little filly. Tears were still streaming down the pale blue pegasus's eyes, but a smile was firmly in place. "You go and have fun with your Daddy. I know you don't want to spend another day listening to me dissect my clients' horrible taste."

Ditzy nodded, then frantically backpedaled. "I-it isn't like it's not important! Especially not if you like it, Mom! It's just-"

Her mother gave a soft understanding laugh. "Oh, I'm teasing you, you silly filly. Besides, even I'd choose the weather engineer over the interior decorator for Take Your Daughter To Work Day."

"I heard that!" Derby Doo practically pranced into the front room of the apartment, tongue firmly in cheek and bowler at a rakish angle. With a huge grin at wife and child, he boomed at the latter, "What ho, Little Muffin? Ready for another trip to Vulcan's forge?" His cutie mark, a pair of tongs holding a bolt of lightning, seemed to glow with the power of pure ham.

Ditzy returned the wide smile. "Lead on, Big Muffin."

Present Day

The first signs had been subtle. So subtle that only one could perceive them. Now, as forces beyond equine ken struggled towards existence, the ripples they caused took a turn for the more overt. Pursestrings seemed looser in the Carousel Boutique. Unicorns felt an odd sense of elation as they passed the library. Everypony felt a sense of euphoria in the Sugarcube Corner, independent of the baked goods. Nopony paid the phenomena much mind. Which is to say, no pony paid them much mind. Wiser, stranger creatures understood the meanings of such omens, and they made their own preparations.

One such creature was Angel Bunny. His devotion to Fluttershy notwithstanding, he was still a child of the Everfree Forest. Furthermore, he was technically a monster, a hyperintelligent rabbity thing known to crytpozoology as a lagomath. In addition to his being much smarter than the average hare, this also explained his opposable thumbs, and at least began to explain why he was currently meditating atop his hutch.

Fluttershy happened upon him, head balanced on the wide end of a carrot, and gave a small gasp. "Angel, I had no idea you could do something like this!"

The lagomath opened one eye and gave a small smile. Silly pony. It wasn't like he'd had a reason to wax monastic before now.

"Did Zecora teach you how to do this?"

Zecora? Ah yes, the shaman. His contacts had praised the zebra, impressed by an equine who could see a self-maintaining ecosystem without having a conniption fit. He shook his head as best he could in his current position. Driving the narrow end of the carrot into the ground would defeat the point of the exercise.

"Oh. Well, I didn't mean to disturb you. I just wanted to let you know that we won't have to operate on Mister Beaver after all."

Angel gave a thumbs-up, making sure it appeared as such from his pet pony's perspective. Tiny, dextrous digits meant that the finicky detail work that hooves just couldn't handle fell onto his plate. But that was neither here nor there. He returned his gaze inward, focused on the task before him. The lagomath did not know why the flows of magic were shifting as they were, but it was clear that they were, and he would be a fool to not exploit the new order of things.

(The author apologizes in advance to all speakers of the French language, and to all sentient bags of flour.)

"La lala lala..." Pinkie Pie was in her default state of merriment as she made her way into the Sugarcube Corner's cellar, intent on getting another bag of flour. Much to her surprise, one of the bags she had purchased just the day before had been nibbled open. The party pony frowned for a moment before returning to her emotional ground state. "Well, I guess I'll just have to call in Fluttershy! She'll know what to do."

"Zat des-pique-able pegasus? Mademoiselle, I zought you knew better."

The Prench-accented voice sent a chill down Pinkie's spine. "You... You aren't real." The statement was shaky, doubt creeping in at the edges.

"Ceci n'est pas un sac de farine? You cannot question ze evidence of your own eyes and ears, ma petite chevalette." The gnawed bag seemed to gaze knowingly into the pony's soul despite its lack of eyes.

Pinkie's frown seemed here to stay. "You aren't even the same bag! I used it to bake the cake for the Sorry I Lost Faith In My Friends party!"

The sack rose upright, its bleached viscera beginning to leak out. "Oui. You did." The tone made clear the ingredient's opinion on its last incarnation's fate. "But Madame LeFlour, she is more zan a zing of cloth e grain, non?"

The pink pony took a desperate look around the basement. No stacks of rocks or buckets of turnips. At least, none she could see. And she could see any number of places where a dust bunny could secret itself, especially a knight of Camelint. "You're delusions. Fragments of my mind that split off as I was going completely oatmeal."

The other bags of flour had risen behind their mistress, echoing her motion towards the Bearer of Laughter. "On ze nose, Pinkie. And ze miasma, its nature is clear to you, is it not?" Centipedes, beetles, and other creepy crawlies began to exit the wound in LeFlour's side, a verminous vanguard that swarmed towards the earth pony with a speed the baking supplies couldn't match.

For a moment, icy dread clutched the mare's heart. Then she looked up, and saw something that gave her hope. A grin returned to her face. "Uh-huh. Blacker and snootier than Nightmare Moon on her worst day. But it came here because of me. Because of the Element of Laughter." Only Pinkie's immediate family would be qualified to say if she'd ever borne a more serious expression than she did now. "But this. Isn't. Funny."

Sanity, such as it was, reasserted itself with that proclamation. The shambling horde of ground wheat returned to a neat and decidedly inanimate pile. The lint ball that had begun dancing in the mare's peripheral vision resolved itself into an eye floatie. Satisfied with reestablishing her tenuous grip on reality, Pinkie selected an unspoiled bag and returned upstairs.

As she closed the door, the young baker studiously ignored the whispered "Soon, Mademoiselle. Soon."

Twilight Sparkle did not have a very consistent sleep schedule. Oh, she tried, but when some especially obscure, difficult, or intriguing line of research presented itself, she dove into it like Pinkie Pie at an all-you-can-eat buffet, intent on extracting every delicious datum the subject had to offer. In such times, it took a friend or assistant to drag her back to the world every organ but her brain inhabited. With Spike molting and Owlowiscious taking a leave of absence (after giving his hoo weeks' notice, of course,) Applejack had had to act as the disrupting factor this time around.

While the unicorn was ashamed that such measures had become not just necessary but routine, she had to admit that getting pulled out of her studious stupor by a scion of the Apple family had its perks, like an impressive country breakfast the next morning. Granny Smith had waved off her offer to recompense the farmers for their hospitality. "A pony's friends is 'er second family," the matriarch had said, "an' us Apples always look out fer family." With a playful wink, she'd added, "Jus' don' go thinkin' yer gettin' hotcakes every time y' overdo that fancy book-learnin' o' yers, missy!"

Another benefit, at least in this instance, was the opportunity to discuss the previous night's incident on site, with two eyewitnesses on hoof whose combined recollections made a moment-by-moment reconstruction of the event. As she concluded her analysis of the Apple sisters' testimony and her own scans, Twilight was astounded. "This defies nearly every known law of magic, but everything is internally consistent." She turned to her freckled friend. "Applejack, incredible as your story sounds, I have to believe you. A teleporting pegasus is the only possible explanation for this residual magic."

Apple Bloom gave as low a whistle as her little body could generate. "No wonder Miss Ditzy always delivers th' mail on time!"

The unicorn shook her head, still deep in thought. "No, this is definitely new. There's simply too strong a signature here for me to have missed it if Ditzy had been doing it on any kind of regular basis. This kind of intensity could register without my even having to consciously try to detect magic for a few seconds after... oh, that was a joke, wasn't it?" Twilight gave an awkward chuckle as she remembered how conversation worked.

Applejack gave a grin at this. "Don' worry 'bout it, sugarcube. Keep on playin' Fetlock Holmes an' see if'n ya can tell where she done sent 'erself."

"Right." Closing her eyes, the Bearer of Magic devoted her entire conscious awareness to mentally following the faint æther trail that stretched away from the farm. Mote by mote, she followed the hours-old path, painstakingly reassembling a line since blurred by the wakes of pegasi, interference from the Everfree Forest, and even the omnipresent solar wind that rippled through Celestia's mane. The magical prodigy was about halfway there when her concentration was wrecked by something falling on her head. "What the?" She opened her eyes to see a scroll roll to a stop just in front of her.

The blonde farmer shrugged. "Puff o' green flew at ya from town. Prob'ly th' library. Ah'd've said somethin', but Ah figgered that'd break yer focus just as bad." She considered the scroll, sealed with Celestia's signature sunburst. "Ah did'n' know Spike could get letters t' chase ya down."

Twilight scrunched her muzzle in thought. "He can't. At least, he shouldn't yet be able to do so. The Princess must have worked some kind of magic on this scroll before she sent it." With that, she lifted and unrolled the letter, habitually reading it aloud.

"To my faithful student Twilight Sparkle,

"I hope this letter finds you well. I write to you because, through truly exceptional circumstances, the Postmistress of Ponyville,, Miss Desiderata "Ditzy" Doo, teleported herself and her daughter roughly 5.3 kiloponies above Castle Canterlot last evening. Rest assured that, save for an entirely understandable case of mana exhaustion, both are in perfect health. I am sure that you have countless questions on how a pegasus pony could teleport, but it is not my story to tell nor my place to tell it. Should the elder Miss Doo elect to do so, she will be the one who answers your questions.
"For the moment, however, Ponyville is without a postal service. For the duration of today, I, Princess Celestia, name you, Twilight Sparkle, Provisional Assistant Postmistress of Ponyville, and endow you with the power to deputize any ponies in the town as temporary postal workers. You may use this letter as proof of this decree. I strongly recommend you see Mayor Mare about this as soon as you are able.

"Your teacher,
"Princess Celestia

"P.S. Princess Luna will be accompanying the Doos when they return to Ponyville, along with a protege of hers with whom I think you will find much in common. Please do remember that my sister is still somewhat leery of public life after a millennium of lunar exile, and try to keep the town from having too grandiose a reaction to her visit."

Both mares took a moment to process this. Applejack came to a conclusion first. "Well, that woulda bin nice t' have an hour ago." After several seconds with neither quiet agreement or scolding for disrespecting the Princess, the orange mare glanced at her friend. "Twi?"

The unicorn had paled so much she seemed to have been dipped in bleach. Her pupils has shrunk to pinpricks. One lower eyelid was twitching so fast, Applejack thought she heard the occasional tiny sonic boom. The only sound escaping the shellshocked student's lips was a steady "P-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-"

"Twilight?"

"-p-p-p-p-p-p-"

The farmer rolled her eyes before not-so-gently nudging the quivering pile of panic that called itself Twilight Sparkle in the side. This seemed to end the motorboat impression and break the dams on the mare's worry. "Postmistress? Deputizing? Luna visiting? WhatdoIdowhatdoIdowhatdoIdo..."

Applejack sighed. "Twi, Ah say this as yer friend, but ya need t' shut yer yap b'fore Ah do it mahself."

Twilight's expression was still that blend of existential dread and constipation known as "high anxiety," but at least now she was quiet.

"Good. Now, take a deep breath." The apple-flanked mare put herself nearly forehead-to-forehead with her friend, trying to fill Twilight's field of vision with her own eyes as much as possible. Her voice was gentle and steady, an almost hypnotic cadence. "Remember who y' are. This here ain't nothin' compared t' Winter Wrap-Up. Ferget 'bout Princess Luna fer right now an' focus on th' mail. Make a plan, pick yer deputies, and git. The job. Done. Kin ya do that?"

After a moment, the unicorn nodded.

"Good girl. Go get started."

Twilight nodded again and made for town. Applejack smiled, satisfied that she'd averted some harebrained attempt to magic everything better. Apple Bloom, who hadn't ever left but felt she'd had nothing to contribute when the talk came to magic and royal duty, stared at her big sister in awe. "That was so cool!" gushed the filly. "How'd ya do that thing with the voice an' the close-up face an' all?"

"When Samoontha has 'er calf next month, ye'll find out." The older sister grinned to herself. It wasn't quite hypnotism, more exploiting the herd instinct. It became much easier to calm down a cow in labor or a pony in panic when you appeared to know what you were doing. To one so distressed, it meant that she could relax and let you worry about the problem.

"Uh, Applejack?"

"What is it, Apple Bloom?"

"T'day's s'posed t' be clear, right?"

The incongruity of the question broke the hatted pony's wisdom-afterglow. "Yer a big girl, Bloom, you kin read the weather schedule good as me."

"Well yeah, but what's that?"

Applejack followed her sister's pointing hoof. Sure enough, there was a cloud. And as she watched, she could see that not only was this cloud moving, it was moving towards the Everfree Forest, with nary a pegasus in sight.

"That," she said honestly, "is the second impossible thing Ah've seen in as many days."

Rarity frowned as she examined the dress. The design was, of course, near flawless. It would've been perfect had it been a commission, but there was only so much one could do with something without a single intended wearer. The interplay between wearer and worn was, of course, an essential aspect of fashion.

In any case, it wasn't form or fabric that had her flummoxed. It was the gems. The precious stones adorning the dress clashed horribly with both it and with each other. The colors seemed chosen entirely at random. In some cases, the jewels managed to clash with themselves, so obviously flawed or rife with inclusions that they seemed fit only for dragon fodder.

That none of this had been true the night before made it all the more vexing.

With a practiced eye and horn, Rarity determined that the emeralds were still emeralds, the sapphires still sapphires (except those that were now rubies) and so forth. Only color and quality seemed to have changed. Possible explanations for such alteration were few and far between, and one stood out in her mind, as much as she wished it didn't.

Going to her sister's room, the fashionista gave its door a knock. "Sweetie, are you awake?"

"Uh huh. Come on in, Sis!"

As she entered the room, Rarity was immediately struck by the odd assembly of pipes, building blocks, and other miscellany taking up the majority of the floor space, her sister at its foot performing some manner of arcane adjustment. "Sweetie Belle, dare I even ask what manner of... device that is?"

Her sister looked up from her work with a grin. "Do you like it? I had this amazing dream last night, and when I woke up, I remembered every little detail! That never ever happens to me! It's gotta be a sign for getting my cutie mark!"

"It's... certainly possible, dear." The designer was hardly one to question providence in such matters, but that still left a number of questions. "What exactly does this... Does it do?"

"It's not done yet. I can't really show you until it is." The young unicorn suddenly became fascinated by her carpet. "Um, I'm... kinda gonna need a few jewels to finish it. If that's okay."

The subject of jewels reminded Rarity of what had brought her here in the first place. "Have you taken any from the storage chest? Or anywhere else?"

Sweetie frantically shook her head. "Nuh uh! I know how important those are to you, Sis! I'd never touch them without permission! ...Which I'm kinda asking for now."

Satisfied that her prime suspect wasn't responsible for despoiling her design, the dressmaker gave said suspect a reassuring smile. "Well, I'm sure we can come to an arrangement. Are you going to need anything specific? Cut, color, size?"

The smile this engendered brought a stab of guilt to Rarity's heart, but it also made that sensation more than bearable.

"Ugh..." Waking up was number three on Rainbow Dash's all-time list of things she hated, right between losing and her middle name. Today was no exception, especially since she'd been having an enjoyably weird dream involving the Wonderbolts, a swarm of flying pies, and a mud wrestling tournament. Still, her stupid dumb stupid body had stupidly insisted she wake up for some stupid reason, and it wasn't interested in what she felt were very good reasons as to why she could sleep in until something important happened. Like the sun burning out.

As Dash grudgingly came to, she couldn't help but notice that her mattress and pillow both seemed softer than usual. Since both were made of clouds, this prompted her to awaken faster, as the only way such a sensation should've been possible was if she was in free fall.

However, once the pegasus had gotten to the point where she could open her eyes, she relaxed. It was clear that she was still in bed, and not on a terminal velocity date with terra way-too-firma. Then she tried to get up.

As one might expect from her hate list, getting out of bed was never an easy feat for Rainbow Dash. Today, however, this was not only because of sluggishness. The cloudstuff that constituted her bed had softened to the consistency of marshmallow fluff at some point in the night, and thus Dash found herself struggling against her mattress like a fly in a spiderweb. At first, she tried to set these struggles to some kind of rhythm, shouting in time with her tugs. "This! Doesn't! Make! Sense!" And it didn't. Dash had never heard of clouds behaving as her furniture was.

As time passed, though she'd never admit it to anypony, claustrophobia began to creep into the pegasus's mind. She sacrificed the timed straining for frantic, fear-fuelled flailing in her viscous bonds. Shouts of "Let me out!" came again and again, and not even Dash knew who or what she was yelling at. The clouds? Herself? Equestria as a whole? Time passed, heedless of her meaning, and she was paid just as little attention to that passage.

At some point, the fear overwhelmed her rational mind, and blind animal panic settled in. By the time exhaustion allowed her to regain lucidity, Dash was even more trapped than before, everything below her neck entombed in the taffy-like substance that clouds simply weren't supposed to be. Her throat was sore and her voice a hoarse whisper, but she kept repeating what had become a meaningless mantra. "Let me out."

Her limbs were stiff and unresponsive.

"Let me out."

She could feel the gluey gunk coating her every feather and hair.

"Let me out."

She couldn't tell where the clouds ended and her sweat-soaked form began.

"let me out"

To her horror, the shapeless mass that had been pillow and comforter began to shift and flow with a life of its own.

"let me out"

As it covered her eyes, she felt too tired to blink.

"lemme out"

As it covered her mouth, she felt too tired to scream.

"lemme ou—"

As it covered her nostrils, she felt too tired to breathe.

"..."

"LET ME OUT!"

In her frenzied return to awareness, Rainbow Dash reduced her sheets to a thin mist. She didn't even notice. She was far too busy curling into a fetal position, shaking with fear, convulsing with sobs that bordered on hyperventilation.

Eventually, she calmed down enough to register that what had happened was a dream. It took longer for her to compose herself to her satisfaction, dry the tears she'd never admit to shedding, and reassure herself that her mattress was the same chunk of springy cumulus on which she'd fallen asleep last night.

As the nightmare's aftermath passed, Dash could then notice that her bedroom seemed somehow darker than usual. A quick once-over determined that it actually was darker, the clouds that made up the walls slate gray and heavy with static. The pegasus frowned at this. After the ridiculous display Ditzy had managed yesterday, the place shouldn't have needed another discharge for a good three weeks. Now it looked as though the house hadn't been thunderbucked for more than a month.

"Lightning always used to give me nightmares," the would-be Wonderbolt muttered. She got up with no resistance from her bed and made for her kitchen. Something funny was going on with this house, and she wanted something on her stomach before she figured out what.

Ditzy was by no means the strongest or fastest flier in her class. She had no illusions about either. However, her determination easily made the top five. Finding a friend in Fluttershy had helped it flourish, encouraging the grey filly to try a new approach with bullies. In the past, she'd just ignored them as best she could, but when insults had shifted from her eyes to her flying the pegasus decided that ignoring the peanut gallery was no longer the best option. Instead, she would show them how wrong they were.

From that point on, Ditzy tried to spend as much time airborne as possible. Even if it was just a few inches above the white, poofy streets of Cloudsdale, she wanted her wings to grow as quickly as they could. One hallmark of her training was going straight to the window of her apartment from the street. It was only on the third floor, and she'd been using clouds to soften impacts before she'd even known what she was doing, so a sudden cramp held no fear for her.

As might be expected from a building made by and for pegasi, the apartment complex's balconies had doors rather than windows. As such, Ditzy was retrieving her key from a saddlebag when she heard a muffled knock come through the door. Curiosity piqued (and the possibility she was on the wrong balcony acknowledged,) the young pegasus pressed an ear to the shaped cloud.

"Mistral Lace?"

Ah. Well, that confirmed that this was the right balcony. But where did she know that voice?

"Can I help you?"

"My name is Fair Day. You husband worked for me at the weather factory."

Of course, Mister Day! Ditzy just hadn't recognized him because he usually sounded much... happier.

Wait, did he say-

"W-'worked'?"

"I'm very sorry, Ma'am. There was an accident with a high-tension thunderhead. He... he made sure everypony else got out first. He insisted."

No...

"I... I was the last pony to see him. He said to give his love to you and to Ditzy. And... he said to give you this."

No!

"I think.. I think he honestly believed that he could fix the thing. He actually charged at it just before it went critical. His last words were... they were the motto of the Royal Guard. 'Pro Mannulus.'"

"Mommy?" Ditzy wasn't sure when she'd retrieved the key or turned the lock. All she remembered later was staring at the singed brown derby held in her mother's mouth, getting progressively darker with the mare's tears. The entire world seemed to vanish save for that single piece of headgear.

And then, the nothingness became chaos, and the hat became a bubble.

"Mmm... Ah!" Ditzy awoke with a start, momentarily disoriented as she struggled to reconcile her solid surroundings with the clouds by which she'd just been surrounded. As her mind made its way out of the memory, she regathered what had actually happened before she'd fallen asleep to dream of it.

"Ah, you're awake." Princess Luna poking her head into the room rather nicely scrambled the assembled events.

"Y-your Highness!" There was a confusion of bedclothes as Ditzy tried to get up and kneel at the same time. That the alicorn briefly appeared to be a pony-shaped black hole to the pegasus's mana sight made the urge to genuflect all the stronger.

"Please, Miss Doo, relax." The princess of the night moved to the bedside. "You exhausted yourself getting here."

The pegasus took that last sentence and rebuilt her memories around it, coming to an astonishing conclusion. "I... I teleported all the way to Canterlot!"

"Coolest Mommy ever!" Dinky chose that moment to enter the room.

"Dinky?"

"Hi, Mommy!" The young unicorn seemed to be dealing with a sudden translocation quite well. "Princess Luna's been teaching me about consternations!"

The umbral alicorn smiled. "It's nice to see a young pony with an interest in the stars. It didn't happen much before..." The princess glanced at the floor. "Well, before."

For a moment, there was an awkward silence. Then Ditzy's mind went to her dream, and she smiled. She knew how to break the ice. The pegasus drew herself up to as dignified a posture she could manage and intoned, "What has passed has passed. The future is ours to clutch. Let us never speak of this again." She then followed this up with a dopey smile and her eyes at their least aligned.

Luna's expression shifted from guilt to attentiveness, and then to confusion. She looked at Dinky, only to see her nodding sagely at her mother's proclamation. "Quite."

So much incongruous dignity was compressed in that single syllable that it tipped the absurdity running through Luna's mind over a critical point. She began to shake with barely contained laughter. After a few moments, she dropped to her knees as she let loose a raucous bout of hilarity that seemed out of place coming from the smaller goddess. Finally, after managing to compose herself again and wiping a tear from her eye, the Mistress of the Dusk gave a contented sigh. "I needed that more than I knew. Thank you Miss Doo. Both of you. Now, if you're feeling alright, Celestia and I have a few questions for you, as you might imagine, but—" She was interrupted by a sound like a snoring Ursa Minor. As Ditzy fought the urge to hide under her borrowed sheets, Luna continued with a smile. "But first, I'm sure you'd like something to eat."

With her daughter's laughter in the background, a mortified nod was the only reply the pegasus trusted herself with.

Once she'd eaten more in one sitting than she could ever remember, Ditzy watched the dishes being taken away with a longing gaze. She wasn't hungry, but as long as she'd been eating, she didn't have to answer any questions about how she'd managed to do something most unicorns couldn't. Still, unless she repeated the feat, it was inevitable, and she could tell that her mana bonds were still mostly exhausted. She wouldn't be planeswalking any time soon, and teleportation in the same plane was right out for at least a week. With a sigh, she looked to the head of the table, where both regents were having their own plates bussed. "All right," she said resignedly, "let's get this over with."

Luna looked sympathetic at that, but Celestia seemed... amused? mischievous? Her face had the same gentle benevolence as always, no doubt cultivated over centuries, neigh, millennia of political maneuvering. It wasn't her expression that gave Ditzy pause, but her eyes. There was something there that was disturbingly reminiscent of Pinkie Pie. "And what exactly," said the princess of the sun, "are you expecting from 'this,' Ditzy Doo?"

The pegasus quirked an eyebrow. All right, Princess. You want to play? We'll play. "Well, either recruitment into some secret police force of spellcasting pegasi or dissection in the Academy for Gifted Unicorns." Ditzy smirked. "Maybe both if you just need tissue samples."

Luna bolted up from her seat, wings angrily erect. "Why I've never heard such outrageous accusations! And to think that you seemed so... so nice when you'd awakened! Sister, I—" She stared in shock at her co-ruler. "Are you snickering?"

To be accurate, Celestia was now laughing outright and rapidly approaching what might be called "guffawing." Ditzy had to bite her lip to keep from joining in. Luna, meanwhile, looked from one to another, wondering if in her millennium of exile, everypony else had gone insane. And what did that say about her own mental health if it had taken her ten months to notice?

Just as one sister was certain that she'd returned to a world of lunatics (oh the horrible irony...), the other managed to compose herself. "My apologies, dear Luna. It's been quite some time since I met someone who not only recognized my jests but was unafraid to respond in kind."

"Jest? Sister, this is a momentous occassion! A pegasus capable of teleportation! Imagine what this could mean for all of ponykind! All of Equestria! Why, we could..." Luna then realized that her sister's grin was not just a vestige of her earlier mirth. Resignedly, the younger sister asked, "This happened while I was in exile, wasn't it?"

"Mayyyybe."

"You made sure that it was never recorded, didn't you?"

"Mayyyyyyyybe." Celestia was enjoying herself to, in Ditzy's opinion, an indecent degree.

"Well, that certainly explains why I never came upon it in the archives. If you would be so kind to enlighten us?"

"Oh, very well. It was, oh, about two thousand years ago—"

"Two thousand?" Luna interjected.

"'Maybe' can mean 'no', dear sister." That smile just kept getting bigger and bigger...

"But...but why wouldn't I—"

"As I recall, you had no patience for matters of court at the time. Something about some charming young stallion."

"Oh, right."

"It was either Aristrotle or Brayto if I remember correctly."

"Oh. Right."

"You did court both master and pupil, didn't you?"

"OH. RIGHT." The reverb sent chills down Ditzy's spine and made her very grateful she'd visited the bathroom prior to the meal.

Celestia seemed wholly unfazed. "Why Luna, that was a near flawless impression of Aunt Teleute!"

"In any case." Less reverb that time, but maybe it was hard to pull it off when speaking through clenched teeth.

"Yes. Thousands of years ago, an earth pony—"

"An earth pony!" Luna exclaimed. Ditzy suddenly found herself feeling passé.

"Yes, sister, it was definitely an earth pony."

"Did he fly?"

"No."

"Teleport?"

"Not on his own."

"Raise an army of zombie ponies?" This made both of the other mares look at her bemusedly. Blushing, the younger princess slowly knelt, giving the impression that she was trying to sink under the table. "My apologies, sister, I've been interrupting you far too often. You were saying?"

"Well, he really only cast one spell. One with which Ditzy Doo is quite well familiar." The mirth had taken a sudden leave of absence from Celestia's gaze.

The pegasus offered the only guess that made sense. "Planeswalking." Luna perked up at this, but it seemed her curiosity was now outweighed by her reluctance to endure further embarassment.

Celestia delivered Smile Number 53, "Student who has answered logically, but incorrectly." "No, actually. But he had much to tell me of those who could, among other things." Her smiled shifted to an uncategorized one of fond remembrance. "Ah, the times we had."

"Sister!" Indignation was apparently not part of the balance of Luna's silence.

"Luna, we merely talked for a few minutes."

Ditzy felt it was only appropriate to give Celestia a turn to blush. Well, appropriate and funny. "And the rest of the time?"

No blush, just that same all-concealing grin. (Number 12) "A lady never tells, Ditzy Doo, and a princess is nothing if not a lady. But I digress. As I said, the gentlecolt in question told me much about many things I'd known nothing about, among them planeswalkers. Those who could move beyond Equestria and its cosmos and, for that matter, into them from beyond. More importantly, he told me what to do in case one ever made herself known to me."

Ditzy swallowed. Here came the test of whether that joke of hers was, in fact, reality. "And that would be?"

"Planeswalkers make every effort they can to hide their exceptional nature from all but their own. If one was to ever reveal that nature to me, he said to find out what she wanted, and if I judged that her cause was just, assist her in any way I can." In an impressive feat of balance, the princess of the sun crossed her forelimbs on the table and rested her head upon them. "So tell me, whoever you are: What matter was so important that you teleported in plain sight of two of my little ponies to my castle, miles away? Taking one of them — a flightless child, I might add — along for the ride. What is it that has captured your attention and yet has escaped the notice of we who guide the sun and moon?"

Any leftover levity evaporated under that unyielding stare. Ditzy swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and considered her words carefully. "Firstly, Princess Celestia, I assure you that I am Equestrian. Dinky really is my daughter, and I never meant to put her into any danger." Her voice shook with emotion. "I... I don't know how I can prove it, but I am one of your little ponies."

Celestia's horn glowed with the gentle light of first dawn. Ditzy cringed for a moment, then felt a gentle pressure just beneath an eye. Glowing in the spectrum of dawn through dusk, there was a drop of liquid swathed in the princess's magic. The smile on her face was now one the grey mare had often worn herself, a mother's unconditional love. "That you shed tears at the thought of my believing otherwise, Ditzy, is all the proof I will ever need. Please, continue."

"O...Okay." That had shaken the mailmare more than she'd thought. Dang it, a crisis of faith wasn't supposed to entail the goddess questioning her belief in the mortal! "W-well, I have determined that the unique properties of the Elements of Harmony, now that they are bound to the souls of living ponies, are acting as a sort of magic attractor. As such, mana is aggregating around the places that the Elements' bearers spend the most time in, that is, their homes. As they do so, they are increasing the density of magical energies in and around those places to far beyond Equestria's norm. Once that density goes beyond a certain threshold, it will allow intangible concepts to manifest in material bodies."

The white alicorn's expression was all business. "Concepts like those embodied by the Elements."

"Exactly. Once the threshold is passed, all that energy will collapse into entities the likes of which Equestria has never seen."

Luna frowned. "But the Elements are in Canterlot! Shouldn't we be seeing this phenomenon here?"

Ditzy shook her head. "The physical items may be here, but those aren't the Elements entirely. Not anymore. Living ponies embody them now, and life grows."

"So why didn't something like this happen when Celestia and I were attuned to the Elements?"

The walleyed pegasus considered this for a brief time. "You two maintain a heavy restraint on your power, correct?" The context of the question hit her. "Er, that is, if you don't mind me asking, Your Majesties!"

Celestia cued up Smile Number 23, "Pony who thinks s/he has offended me." "The integrity of our world hangs in the balance, Ditzy. As far as I'm concerned, propriety can take a flying leap for the duration. In any case, we do. If our full power was on display, anything nearby would be vaporized or flash-frozen in an instant."

"Well, there you go. You were already used to holding back phenomenal cosmic power. The Elements were just six drops in the bucket."

"A bit more than that." The sun goddess's expression turned serious again. "Now, aside from the obvious, what other consequences might all of this carry?"

"That's where I'm really concerned. Every plane of existence exists in a certain state of balance between the mundane and the fantastic. Normally, concept elementals will arise only within planes heavily weighted towards the latter. Compared to some of the places I've seen, Equestria is certainly fantastical, but it isn't quite there. However, if these things appear, well, that's where the logic of magic hits us in the hindquarters."

Celestia nodded. "The Law of Precedence. It is most difficult to do something the first time."

"Exactly. Once a precedent is set, it becomes easier. And if it's easier for concepts to manifest in Equestria, that means the balance is tipped further in favor of the immaterial. It becomes a vicious cycle, and I don't know where it ends."

The princess of night shook her head. "Magic turning cause and effect on their heads. Typical. So, what would the end consequences of this scenario be?"

The grey mare shrugged. "What would the end consequences of changing the intensity of gravity be? This may uncontrollably alter one of the fundamental constants of our entire universe. Every pony in the world might sprout wings and horns. Cutie marks could detach themselves and mutate into mind-rending aberrations. Every leyline in the universe might collapse into an octarine hole. All I can say for certain is that it wouldn't be pretty."

All three digested this for a time. Luna was the one who broke the silence. "How long do you think we have?"

Something clicked in Ditzy's mind. She wasn't sure if it was the degree of hunger she'd felt, how badly she'd had to use the bathroom, or just a hunch, but she realized she'd been making an assumption that she had no reason to. "How long have I been unconscious?"

"About a day," said the night princess.

"Then by my most optimistic estimate, about a week."

"And your most pessimistic ones?"

"Two, maybe three hours."

Celestia did not show anger very often. She had a giant, seething mass of white-hot plasma to do it for her. At that moment, a series of short-lived sunspots stretched across the Sun's photosphere. Had anypony been able to see them, they would read "FFFFFFFF".

Party of One 1UU
Enchantment
Each noncreature artifact you control is an Illusion creature with power and toughness equal to its converted mana cost in addition to its other types.
At the beginning of your upkeep, if you control a non-Illusion creature, sacrifice Party of One.

First In, Last Out

There was a resounding silence in the dining cum meeting room as the princesses considered their options. Luna spoke first. "We need to take immediate action."

"I agree." Celestia replied. "You will depart tomorrow morning."

The princess of the night opened her mouth to object to this, thought of a different objection and closed her mouth as she put it into words. She repeated this process a few times before settling on "Sister, that wasn't quite as immediate as I had in mind."

The white alicorn raised an eyebrow at this. "So, you would dispatch the one pony capable of addressing this situation while she is mana-exhausted, fresh out of a day-long coma, and with no more knowledge of the situation than that with which she came here?"

Luna once again discovered the fascinating wonder of the table's wood grain until her sister's nuzzling coaxed her out out of her embarrassment. "I agree with your sense of urgency, little sister," Celestia said soothingly, "but we must remember to be gentle with our heroes." This elicited a grateful nod.

"Um..." As the lone mortal in the room, Ditzy was feeling increasingly awkward.

Luna smiled sympathetically at her comrade in anxiety. "How would you like to see how Dinky is doing?"

The pegasus's expression went from uncertainty to joy to dread with such speed, her eyes ended up pointed at opposite ends of the room. "Who's been watching her this whole time? Did she get her cutie mark? Break any priceless royal heirlooms? Cause an international incident?"

The younger princess looked at the mailmare as though she'd grown an extra head. Celestia, however, just smiled. "I assure you, Ditzy, you haven't missed any of your daughter's glories or shames. Now, Luna and I need to iron out some details, so Flawless Composure will be escorting you."

"Who?"

"That would be me, Madam."

The grey mare flinched back from the stallion that, despite his hornless forehead, had apparently teleported next to her. "Where did you come from?"

"Since Madam is a parent, I should scarcely think that such matters would need to be explained to her."

Ditzy bit back her rejoinder and took a more careful look at the unexpected pony. Black suit jacket, white coat, black mane in a short, sensible style so stiff that a cyclone probably wouldn't shift a hair, black bowtie cutie mark. In all, her first impression of Flawless Composure was along the lines of a black-and-white photo of the Braytonic ideal of Butler, that quintessential concept whose existence allowed ponies to perceive the flaws of actual coltservants. And yet, just beneath the surface was a familiar sense of mischief...

The conclusion, once she took a moment to think about it, was obvious. "You're Celestia's personal butler, aren't you?"

The barest hint of a grin flickered across the monochrome earth pony's muzzle. "I am fortunate enough to have that honor, Madam."

Celestia gave a grin of her own. "A Composure has been my right-hoof pony for the last seven generations."

"As Her Luminous Majesty says," demurred Flawless.

Ditzy gave a good-natured eye roll. "Alright, right hoof. Lead the way."

The butler gave something between a nod and a bow. "As Madam wishes."

As the two left the room, Luna turned to her sister. "What was that about?"

"Next Sunday, you should come with me to my meeting with Star Sparkle."

"Twilight's mother?"

"The two of us will tell you all about the worries that come from raising a precocious filly."

"Huh." Luna digested this for a moment. "Say, when you said 'You will depart tomorrow morning,' you only meant the Doos, right?"

Celestia's only response was to widen her grin.

The princess of the night felt her ears droop. "Oh..."

"...and that is how my ancestor Immaculate acquired the position of Her Highness's head coltservant."

"Huh." Ditzy was pleased to discover that, like his mistress, Flawless was a genuinely pleasant pony under all the pomp. "Would the assassination attempt have actually worked?"

"Almost certainly not, though Her Magnificence neither confirmed nor denied the rumors regarding the peanut allergy."

"Well, I certainly don't remember that in the history books."

The butler gave what Ditzy had determined was his signature hint of a grin. "Well, as luck would have it, Madam, we can double check. We have arrived at the Royal Library."

The pegasus looked at the doors. Each was a masterpiece of stained glass and wrought iron, an abstract mural extolling the virtues of knowledge and scholarliness. She felt a sudden surge of nerves. "You're sure Dinky didn't do anything destructive?"

"I assure you, Madam, your daughter has been the very model of charm and decorum."

Ditzy let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "Okay. If you say so." She pushed open one of the exquisite works.

Immediately afterward, a familiar young voice boomed out, "SURRENDER, FOUL BEAST! YOU ARE DEFEATED!"

The voice's owner's mother had a hoof halfway to her face when it was answered by an equally loud reply. "NEVER! THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE TRIXON IS INVINCIBLE!"

Amidst what could only be described as two ponies attempting to recreate the soundtrack of a sci-fi blockbuster, Ditzy turned to Flawless Composure. "What," she deadpanned, "is going on?"

Unflappable as always, the butler simply answered, "It would appear that your daughter has established a rapport with the librarian."

"And why is the librarian the Great and Powerful Trixie?"

"I would not know, Madam. She certainly didn't include 'Being Great and Powerful' on her resumé. May I recommend we enter, so you can ask her yourself?"

The mailpony sighed. "I suppose we should."

Much to Ditzy's relief, somepony had thought ahead before engaging in whatever it was the two were doing, moving tables and chairs to provide a clear stage for the epic imaginary combat. While the grey mare was expecting her daughter, who was bouncing eagerly around her foe, Trixie came as a surprise. Especially given that in place of her hat and cape, she had opted for a headband adorned with glitter-covered balls on springs. Apparently, these swaying antennae designated her as the Great and Terrible Trixon, who was standing proud and resolute in the face of youthful hyperactivity. "None can defeat Trixon, foalish Equestrian!"

Dinky smirked. "That's where you're wrong, evil invader!" She screwed her eyes shut and focused so hard that the newcomers could see her shaking with effort. A faint glow formed around her horn, intermittently at first, then consistently.

A similar aura surrounded Trixie, too faintly to make out its color. She looked from side to side, panic clearly rising. "No! Not unicorn magic! My race's one weakness! How could you have known?" She brought a forehoof to her forehead, sighed theatrically, and collapsed.

Dinky, exhausted more from magic than hopping around, risked a peek at her nemesis. Pleased to see that the threat from distant Mars was neutralized, she said to the vanquished alien, "How was that, Miss Trixie?"

The azure unicorn rose with a smile and gingerly plucked her "costume" from her head via telekinesis. "Very well done for a filly your age, Dinky. Consistent output is the first key to mastering magic, and I would say you're just about perfect with it."

"Yay!" The filly resumed her bouncing, too pleased with herself to stay still.

Trixie had a smile of her own, somewhere between indulgence and simply enjoying the adorable spectacle before her. Then she furrowed her brow as she noticed something odd. "You know, you can stop channeling now. I'm sure you must be getting a headache by this point."

"Huh?" Dinky paused in her joyous oscillation to look at her horn. Sure enough, there was a spark of light shining at the tip. She gasped in delight and looked around the library, crying "Mommy's here! Mommy's here!"

"Oh dear," came an ever-so-slightly amused stage whisper from behind a bookshelf, "it appears that we've been spotted."

Ditzy was less subtle. "Muffin!" And by "less subtle", the narrator means "zooming across the library to embrace her daughter."

"You're okay!" Ditzy cheered.

"I am now, Muffin. I am now."

The moment was spoiled a bit by the other unicorn anxiously muttering, "Um, how much did you see, Sir?"

Flawless's grin was perhaps a bit more pronounced than usual. Perhaps. "Enough, o Great and Terrible Trixon."

A blush was turning Trixie's cheeks a shade of purple she'd find most loathsome. "I am so fired, aren't I?"

"On the contrary, Miss Hobbitses. Once the younger Majesty hears of this, I am certain that She will want to expand your duties."

"Really?"

"Oh my, yes. We've never had a designated foal care professional in the staff. The maids usually just drew lots when the need presented itself."

The unicorn's grin froze in place, becoming little more than a baring of teeth. "I... see. Thank you, Sir."

Trixie's dread was interrupted by a young voice. "Miss Trixie?"

She shook the thoughts of countless wailing brats drooling on her out of mind. "Yes, Dinky?"

The filly gave a solemn bow. "Thank you for helping me with my magic."

Okay, the inactive showpony thought to herself, maybe it won't be so bad. Aloud, she said, "Think nothing of it, my dear. It was my pleasure. I can only hope that one day I can have a foal with half of your talent and charisma." Seeing the ecstatic look this brought to the daughter, Trixie moved her gaze to the mother. "And you must be Ditzy Doo."

The blonde smirked. She had not forgotten the show in Ponyville. "Must I? I'm flattered that somepony as magnificent as the Great and Powerful Trixie would know my name."

"Eh heh heh heh..." Guilt, a recent but increasingly familiar companion, made itself known to the silver-maned mare. "You're from Ponyville, aren't you?"

"I'm afraid so."

Much to Ditzy's surprise, Trixie drooped. "I know that this is woefully inadequate, but I really am sorry about the whole debacle. I honestly never meant for anypony to get hurt, but I never dreamt that those two idiot fancolts would actually try and stage a live Ursa vanquishing." She faced her past along with the pony who brought it back to her, and the pegasus could see the sincerity in her eyes. "I was taught that a truly good solo act should dominate the stage. I guess I forgot that that doesn't extend to the rest of life."

For a moment, Ditzy was stunned. The shameless self-promoter she remembered from months ago was clearly still in there somewhere. The Trixon incident proved that. But this was genuine penitence. A bit late, perhaps, but genuine. She felt her ears fold against her skull. "I'm sorry, too. You've clearly grown as a pony since you left Ponyville. Digging up the past was uncalled for. Still, I have to wonder, what caused such a massive change?"

The magician smiled. "Princess Luna. She's taught me quite a bit on what it means to be respected. She may be the younger sister, but She still has millennia of wisdom to offer us common ponies."

Dinky rolled her eyes and whispered, "Is she always this sappy?"

Flawless leaned down to her and replied, "Only when there's a Princess in the room. Is your mother royalty?"

This merited a giggle from the filly, followed by a yawn. Maternal reflexes came to the fore, and Ditzy employed a well-practiced tone of voice, gentle, but unquestionable. "Dinky, I think it's time for you to go to bed."

Filial reflexes kicked in as well. "I'm not tired!" The young unicorn's body apparently disagreed, based on the yawn that immediately followed this proclamation.

The blonde smiled affectionately. "Yes you are, Sleepy Muffin. Mr. Composure, could I ask you to take Dinky to... wherever it is she's been sleeping?"

The earth stallion nodded. "Certainly, Madam. You will undoubtedly be pleased to know that she slept at your side, and had to be practically carried out of the room late this morning."

"That pony couldn't have been a doctor!" added the filly in question. "He didn't even have a lab coat on!"

"Come now, little one. If you hurry, I'll tell you the story of how my great-grandmother was nearly banished to the Moon." Stars in her eyes, Dinky followed Flawless without further complaint.

As the two left, Ditzy turned back to Trixie. "Thanks again. I've honestly been worried about how she'd learn to use magic."

"I take it her father is...?"

"No longer with us."

Trixie moved to Ditzy's side, nuzzling as much as propriety allowed. "You have my most sincere condolences."

"It's... been a while. I know he'd want me to be happy."

"Without a doubt." The two shared a smile. The unicorn's then took a turn for the sly. "Now, I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about the circumstances of your arrival in Canterlot..."

"Ugh..." Rainbow Dash, as has been noted, hated waking up. More than that, she hated waking up because she couldn't sleep anymore. Hers was a very active lifestyle, and every moment of rest was a precious gift from the Sandpony to be treasured and savored. To have the jerk abandon her in her time of need? Unconscionable.

What made matters worse was that yesterday had dragged on long into the night. Her house's behavior was violating everything she knew about electrostatics and cloud-based architecture, which, at the risk of tooting her own horn, was a considerable amount. The place was simply building up charge faster than what should have been possible. Dash had even asked Twilight about the possibility of magic being involved. According to the egghead, a unicorn would've had to have been beneath the house for days to pull off this kind of effect, and the cyan mare knew for a fact that no such thing had taken place.

So, grumbling and grousing all the while, Dash had checked and rechecked her measurements, and time and time again came back with impossible answers. Meanwhile, her home had turned almost pitch black, with no amount of thunderbucking returning it to the pristine white it was supposed to be. She'd even had to stop the rainbowfall, since the somewhat unstable fluid behaved unpredictably when mixed with this much electricity. In the end, she had fallen into bed frustrated and exhausted, no closer to any answers than when she'd woken up, and dreading another restless, nightmare-laden night.

Surprisingly, that hadn't happened. Sure, the smell of ozone and the prickling of her mane had been aggravating for a while, but at some point the pegasus had drifted off into a sleep so deep she didn't even remember dreaming. Now, she didn't feel her usual sluggishness, but an agitated energy. She wanted to do something. She just didn't know what.

Dash decided that she may as well assess her home situation, since she was so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. (A cursory glance confirmed that the latter was purely figurative. Of course, she only cared because it'd wreck her aerodynamics. It wasn't like she was actually concerned with something as girly as her manedo.) This decided, she flew out her bedroom window, noted with disgust that she'd managed to wake up before sunrise, and turned to see how much of her house had blown up in the night.

Fortunately, it was only a few minutes before sunrise, which meant that enough light was peaking over the eastern horizon for the keen pegasus eye to make out most details. To Dash's delighted amazement, her house was still intact. Furthermore, it was white again! Incredulous, she settled on her front stoop and dug her hooves into the puffy surface. Sure enough, there was no tingle of pent-up lightning. "This is awesome!" she cheered. "I'm gonna turn the rainbowfall back on!"

Dash put deeds to words, surging to the start of the elaborate plumbing that provided what she felt was an essential accent to any home. (What? Home improvement is totally not girly. Go look at a construction team in Cloudsdale and tell Dash that those stallions are girly.) However, once she got to the carefully constructed storage tank on her roof, she couldn't help but facehoof. "Oh, come on!"

Apparently, all of the charge in the house had come together immediately under the container of liquid rainbow. It was almost as though her home had developed a beauty mark. A blacker-than-black, ferociously crackling, heavily ionized beauty mark. "Great," she muttered. "Now what am I going to do with you?"

As if in response, the rainbow tank began to list, the tubing audibly straining against the sudden torque.

"Ohnoohnoohnoohnooooo!" Dash dashed to the unattached end of the fat cylinder and essentially hugged it, trying to get as tight a grip as she could. Desperately, she beat her wings at top speed, trying to provide enough lift to keep the tank from falling through the errant patch of cloud. Her mind raced along with her wings: Too much energy. Must've overwhelmed the null-weight magic on the tank. Gotta try and shift it. If it falls, it's gonna break open in the middle of town. Can't let that happen. Can not let that happen. You hear me, Rainbow Jennifer Dash? This is one thing that went up that ain't goin' down. Just gotta try and get some horizontal movement. Valve's closed, I can break the piping if I gotta. Just need to tilt a little to the left... TOOFARLEFTTOOFARLEFT! Buck buck buck buuuuuck...

Dash felt her life begin to flash before her eyes as she tilted into the mass of hypercharged cloud. She was up to her fillyhood "always dressed in style" phase when she realized that by now she should've either left the electrified patch or been flash-fried. Then, most improbably, she felt herself rise.

As she blinked away the tears that had totally formed because of the smell of ozone and for no other reason, she realized that she was being carried. She looked up to see the face of her rescuer. Maybe a Wonderbolt on an early morning warm-up?

The bottom dropped out of Dash's stomach. Nope, definitely not a Wonderbolt. Not unless they hired something with a thunderhead for a... head. One that had rainbow flames continually pouring out of what must be its eyes. Fighting the urge to panic, she looked around the rest of her savior's form. Okay, weird forelegs that bend the wrong way, like Spike's. "Arms", maybe? No hindlegs to speak of, just kind of trails off. Oh, look at that. The legarm things end in griffon talons. Sort of. Three claws in front, one in back, close enough. And of course, it's made of clouds and has rainbow lightning crackling through it.

Fighting the urge to shout (not scream, definitely not shriek for Mom), she turned back to, for lack of a better term, the thing's "face." "Um, thanks for the save, but could you, uh, let me go?"

The constant streams of prismatic fire briefly interrupted themselves. Dash guessed that that was the thing's form of blinking. Then, it stretched its forelimbs out and spread its talons. The pegasus rolled out of them and began a steady hover. "So, um... what are you?"

It did the weird flame-gap-blink thing again, then gave what was unmistakably a bow. Understandably, this did not clarify things for the mare in the least.

Unnoticed by either, a specialized storage tank jutted out of the bottom of the house, completely empty.

Loyalty Elemental 3RR
Creature — Elemental
Flying
Players other than Loyalty Elemental's owner can't control it. (If this creature would enter the battlefield under another player's control, it instead enters the battlefield under its owner's control.)
"Elemental loyalty is as intractable as a mountain and as unpredictable as a wildfire. Those who earn it are mighty indeed. Those who would exploit it end up crushed and burned."
—Mineral MacGuffin, A Guide to the Elements of Harmony, Third Edition
3/3

Sweetie Belle woke up just before sunrise, too excited to stay asleep. Usually, such an event would only happen on Celestmas or her birthday, but today was even better! Today she'd really definitely probably hopefully get her cutie mark! For SCIENCE! Let those so-called friends of hers laugh and call her a dictionary. She'd still have hers first! Muahahaha—

A thump on the wall interrupted the Crusader's triumphant cackle. The message behind it was clear. Since her room shared a wall with Rarity's, she had to be quiet or her sister would sew her into bed. Literally. There were still needle holes in the mattress.

The younger unicorn finished her science laugh of science under her breath, then went to examine The Device™. The bizarre contraption in the middle of her bedroom was now studded with jewels in every color of the rainbow, and a few more besides. Emeralds, sapphires, rubies, diamonds, even things she'd had never heard of. She'd just seen them in her sister's gem chest and knew that they were right.

Sweetie didn't know much about aesthetics, beyond it being a word Rarity used constantly, but she could appreciate how shape, color, texture, and positive and negative space all came together to make The Device™ into an amazing optical illusion. Depending on the viewing angle, the assembly formed itself into one of several impossible shapes. Its creator's personal favorite was a wagon whose angles laughed in the face of Euclopean geometry.

Her gaze lingered on the on/off switch. Sweetie wasn't sure what would happen when she flipped it and sent a magical current through The Device™, but she knew that she wanted the other Crusaders there when she did. They might all get science cutie marks! Of SCIENCE!

Another knock interrupted the filly's impromptu victory dance. For a moment, she prepared herself for facing the dread horror known as "just-awakened Rarity" before realizing that the sound came from downstairs. Curious and eager to demonstrate her maturity, Sweetie Belle headed to the front door. As she opened it and began reciting the line her sister had had her memorize for just such an occasion, she had her eyes closed, to underscore the degree of grown-up-edness she was displaying. "Hello, and welcome to the Carousel Boutique. I regret to inform you that we are not presently open for business, but we will gladly accept your patronage between the hours of..." The filly trailed off, having finally opened her eyes to double check the hours of operation sign. She also had her first look at what she'd assumed was an early customer.

Sweetie's first thought was that the gemstones of Equestria had come for revenge. The entity at the door appeared to be a giant floating sapphire, looking more than anything like one third of Rarity's cutie mark gigantically come to life. When the huge crystal, easily three times her own height, didn't immediately storm into the shop, the filly calmed down enough to notice the smaller stones circling it. Each looked like two skinny pyramids glued together at their bases, and they were such a beautiful, pure shade of blue, it was as though the larger jewel had brought fragments of the sky for barter.

Faced with such a strange and alien being, Sweetie Belle found herself representing all of Equestria. Her next words would likely decide the fate of millions. "Um... Hi?"

The large gem began to glow, then refracted its light through its facets in a clearly deliberate and meaningful sequence.

The meaning was, understandably, lost on the young unicorn. "I like your... shine?"

One of the satellite jewels moved away from its brethren, the rest spreading out to maintain equidistance. The crystal slowly floated towards the filly. When she flinched back, it accelerated to a speed faster than she could follow. One moment, it was creeping towards her. The next, it was touching her horn.

Alarm and disgust were quickly overwhelmed by a rush of pure information. Sweetie knew that this being wouldn't hurt her. She knew that there were a total of eight satellite crystals, including the one making contact with her, and that they were part of the same creature as the larger gem that they orbited. She knew that the octahedron fusing with her was supplying her with a link to something that could become so much more. And when the main crystal repeated its pattern of flashes, she knew exactly what it was saying.

Greetings. I seek the Bearer of Generosity. I see that you are her sibling. Please, will you take me to her?

"Well—"

You are concerned regarding her demeanor upon awakening. I assure you that I can ease her out of slumber in a way that she will find enjoyable and invigorating.

"How—?"

Your surface thoughts are clear to me. I shall not probe further without your permission.

"Who—?"

Your sister is the Bearer of Generosity. I am generosity.

Sweetie Belle shrugged. She might be a unicorn, but this level of magical shenanigans was clearly outside of her age bracket. "Follow me."

Thank you.

"...Hey, can—"

No. I cannot determine the nature of your cutie mark.

"Aww..."

Generosity Elemental 3UU
Creature — Elemental
Each creature you control has the activated abilities of each other creature you control.
4, T: Untap target creature.
"Generosity flows like wind or water, open and indiscriminate. However, it flows on currents not of matter, but of thought."
—Mineral MacGuffin, A Guide to the Elements of Harmony, Third Edition
3/3

Applejack strode into the orchard straight and proud, as was befitting the import of today's work. As the summer drew to a close, the apple crop went into the home stretch, the last chance for parasites and disease to wreak their havoc before the harvest. Now more than ever, it was essential that a close eye be kept on the trees, lest all the year's effort be for naught.

Oh sure, given enough time and information, even somepony as flighty as Rainbow Dash or fussy as Rarity could tell where something was amiss. (Heck, Rarity's obsession with detail might make her pretty good at it if she could get past the dirt.) Other earth ponies would be able to get by with less, able to tell from the ebb and flow of life where trouble might lay. Still, they'd need some outside know-how to go from the "where" to the "why".

But the ponies of the Apple Clan were the undisputed masters of Malus domestica diagnosis. A pony with the family fruit on her flank could, with a glance, discern between insectoid, fungal, microbial, and combination infestations. One look at the pattern of bites on a leaf would be enough to know which caterpillars could stay and which had to go. A single sniff of a wormhole could tell an Apple clanspony precisely which race of vermin had dared, dared to befoul his family's pride.

They didn't just grow apples. They knew apples. They lived apples. They were Apples.

Given all this, when Applejack found the most perfect apple she'd even seen, the reader hopefully appreciates the profundity of this statement.

The orange mare examined the fruit in awe. Its skin was the bold crimson of a mid-life crisis and shined like a mirror. Though the apple had obviously fallen from its tree, it bore not a single bruise, blemish, or other contusion. Its flesh felt firm, fresh, and ripe in her practiced hooves. It smelled of life itself. Every instinct in Applejack's body told her that this was a pomaceous prince. King of the cultivars. The Kwisatz Haderapple.

Her stomach grumbled. AJ swallowed, uncomfortably aware of just how much this glorious specimen was making her mouth water. She knew that she'd eaten a considerable breakfast not half an hour ago, but her body had apparently found room somewhere for this avatar of appledom. Slowly, she brought the masterpiece to her mouth, hesitant to soil such glory with her base lips, yet desiring nothing more. Her awareness shrank to hold only the apple, or perhaps it expanded until she was aware of nothing else.

Then it opened its eye.

"Holy horseapples!" Applejack flinched back, letting the fruit fall to the ground. It seemed not to mind, focusing on her with what seemed to be curiosity. With a gastric lurch, the mare couldn't help but notice that the unexpected eye appeared to be the exact same color as her own.

Each stared at the other for a time, blinking the only movement made by either party. Eventually, the farmer's shock dropped to a point where her duty could reassert itself. She eased herself out of the crouch she'd reflexively assumed. "Well, if y' ain't gonna do nothin', Ah got trees t' inspect." With that, she resumed her patrol.

As Applejack moved away, the apple sat motionless, as apples are wont. However, judging from the slow sweep of its eye, it was deep in thought. Eventually, it seemed to nod to itself as best it could. Then, its stem began to writhe.

"Hmm..." A hundred little signs came together and Applejack nodded to herself. Pulling a piece of chalk from her saddlebags, she drew a square on the trunk of a tree, then added a "3" inside of it. Apple trees had too many enemies to feasibly carry every possible countermeasure, so the clan devised a series of pictographs to determine which would be needed at any given time.

As the pony returned the chalk to her side, her ears perked up. There was a rustle. Her head bolted upright and she immediately began looking for the intruder. "Ah don' wanna hurt ya," she called out, "so jus' come out slow an' peaceful-like an' we won't have no trouble."

The source of the rustling quickly revealed itself, much to Applejack's amazement. As far as she could tell, it was the cyclopean apple from earlier, except now it was upside down. And had legs. The legs seemed to be growing out of its stem, which would explain the inversion. In any case, it didn't seem too confident on the appendages, stumbling now and again like a newborn foal.

Something about the strange thing struck a chord in the mare's heart. She gave a sweet little smile at the thing, which was visibly becoming more confident on its limbs. They even kind of looked like a young foal's legs, just made of wood. The eye-bearing apple was poised above its center of mass, but it was still cute in a weird way now that there was something more to it. "Aww..."

The creature blinked at her and took a cautious step forward.

Applejack knelt before it. "Now don' be shy, li'l critter. Ol' AJ ain't gonna hurt ya none."

It looked at her, and the farmer knew beyond any doubt that it understood her. As surely as her instincts had just detected a particularly nasty breed of hornworm, they were now telling her that this creature trusted her. It was, to say the least, disconcerting. The earth pony brought her head to the ground, bringing her eye-to-eye with her discovery. "What in blazes are ya, li'l feller?"

Its answer was to nuzzle her cheek. That told her everything she needed to know. I am yours.

Applejack laughed a bit at the sheer peculiarity of it all. "Now listen here," she told her new.. pet? Friend? Child? She'd figure it out later. "Ah've still got plenty o' trees t' check, but Ah reckon ya kin follow along."

Her... companion, let's go with that. Her companion nodded eagerly and soon fell into step behind her.

Big Macintosh chewed his signature hay stalk as he waited at the edge between the west and south fields. Applejack must've found a nasty little epidemic to be taking this long, and the faster he could learn what it was, the faster he could prepare the proper heavy-duty antivarmint device.

A subtle vibration in the ground made the red stallion look down quizzically. Well, that was odd.

"Hay there, Big Macintosh!" He looked back up. There was his sister, but the look on her face was a lot more upbeat than he'd been expecting.

"What took ya so long, AJ?" he said pleasantly. After all, if his sister was happy, so was he. "Ah bet Granny Smith coulda checked them trees faster'n that!"

She made angry eyes at him, but there was a smile beneath them. "Don'tcha go sayin' that where she kin hear it. She'll take ya up on that bet faster'n ya kin say 'Golden Delicious'."

This merited a chuckle from the plowpony. "Eeyup. So, ain't nothin' serious, then?"

"Oh, it's serious all right. Just ain't nothin' t' worry over." Applejack turned and gave a sharp whistle.

Big Macintosh was, understandably, rather confused. "Winona come with ya?"

With a smirk, the mare imitated her brother "Eenope."

As if on cue, something emerged from the southern field. Big Mac absently noted that the hay stalk had fallen out of his mouth. Given that his jaw has hanging open, it didn't surprise him. The one-eyed, giant-apple-headed, sapling-legged whatsit that was as tall as him? That surprised him. "AJ, what in tarnation..."

That blasted smirk was still there. "It followed me home. Kin Ah keep it?"

The stallion's response was distant, as though he had decided this was all a dream and it was best to play along until he woke up. "Ah reckon y' oughta ask Granny. Or maybe Miss Twilight. Seems like somethin' she'd know about."

"Good idea, big brother. Ah'll be in town if'n ya need me. C'mon, Paul!" With that, Applejack headed out, her discovery in tow.

As Big Macintosh watched them leave, he swore he could hear the thing thing grow. Stopped by shock and incredulity, the gears in his head finally started up again. "...'Paul'?"

Honesty Elemental 3GG
Creature — Elemental
Honesty Elemental can't be countered.
Shroud
"Honesty is direct and forceful, a punch in the face rather than a knife in the back. Some find it refreshing. Others just think it painful."
—Mineral MacGuffin, A Guide to the Elements of Harmony, Third Edition
5/4

Pinkie Pie awoke to a slowly repeating tap at her bedroom window. Being who she was, her mind immediately assigned the the sound to a would-be suitor throwing rocks at the window to attract her attention. This idea was then dismissed as highly improbable, since not only was it broad daylight, but the only ponies capable of holding a boom box in their front hooves without falling over would be pegasi, who could just rap on the window with a hind hoof at a much faster frequency, and Lyra, who was neither single nor Pinkie's gender of preference.

Only after debunking her own hopes of early morning romance did the mare actually bother to see who or what was striking her window. It was indicative of the ebb in her Pinkie Sense that it didn't register this as a doozy.

Outside the window were three enormous heads. As Pinkie watched, one threw itself forward, bouncing off the window and producing a surprisingly quiet tap. The other two noticed that the curtains had been opened, and ceased their own pendular motion. Each was oddly reflective, oddly shaped, and oddly colored. The first and last, the party pony realized, were because the heads were actually gigantic balloons, monochrome rubber envelopes shining in the early morning light.

The second quality took a bit longer to puzzle out. The balloons were clearly head-shaped, but not pony-head-shaped. Indeed, none of them seemed likely to appear on any manner of creature, yet they were clearly functional. Despite their composition, Pinkie could see their eyes move and blink, and their mouths silently move as though chewing invisible bubble gum.

After a few moments spent contemplating the relative merits of invisible bubble gum versus its visible counterpart, the earth pony returned to the matter at hand. Three balloon-heads. One yellow, one blue, one red. Each a caricature of some nonequine race. Each looking at her, almost expectantly.

Then, somehow, it clicked. "Oh, I get it!" Cheerfully, she named each in turn. "Trollface, awesomeface, forever-alone-face."

With this incantation, all three inflated icons began to laugh uproariously, producing far more volume than they had tried to get her attention.

Pleased at solving the puzzle, Pinkie left her room and made for the front door.

"Pinkie?" She was waylaid by a still-drowsy Mrs. Cake. "What's going on, dear?"

"Oh, nothing important, Mrs. Cake. There was just a physical embodiment of the Element of Laughter outside my window, and now that I've properly identified its memetic origins, it and I are going to go have wacky adventures!"

The baker took this all quite well in stride. How much was living with Pinkie and how much was not being even remotely awake yet was difficult to say. "I see. One of those dreams again. I'll best go back to bed before the blondies start performing Gaskin and Stallivan." All right, maybe not so difficult. "Have a good time, dear."

"Thanks, Mrs. Cake!" With that, Pinkie bounced her way out of the Sugarcube Corner. As she did so, the idea accidentally given to her by the mare she thought of as a second mother took root in her fertile imagination. By the time Pinkie was at the ground floor of the bakery, the trumpets and strings were already piping in from beyond the perceivable universe.

"I am the very model of a modern cartoon character
With sanity that's low enough to be fourth-wall aware-iter.
I know our ancient history and ponies inspirational
From Applejack to Scootaloo in order generational.
I'm very well acquainted, too, with all matters hilarious.
I understand plays on words both the work-safe and precarious.
About festival theorem I am teeming with a lot o' news,
With many cheerful tales about that one time with the chocolate mousse!
(With many cheerful tales about that one time with the chocolate mousse!
With many cheerful tales about that one time with the chocolate mousse!
With many cheerful tales about that one time with the chocolate-ocolate mousse!)
I'm very good at musically defusing potential fights.
I know the single working means of counteracting parasprites.
In short, as one insane enough to be fourth-wall aware-iter,
I am the very model of a modern cartoon character!
(In short, as one insane enough to be fourth-wall aware-iter,
She is the very model of a modern cartoon character!)
I know the fanon aggregate, the OCs of the Fallout 'verse,
I've seen the grimdark Tumblrs and a few things that are even worse.
I've seen humanizations and Equestria creation myths,
Conversion Bureau, Antipodes, coolness multiplied by six fifths;
I can tell at once a Mary Sue that needs to die a fiery death
And praise the ten percent that Sturgeon's Law has spared in the same breath
And I admire bronies who eschew virtual violence,
As when something good came of 4chan via love and tolerance!
(As when something good came of 4chan via love and tolerance!
As when something good came of 4chan via love and tolerance!
As when something good came of 4chan via love and toler-olerance!)
Then I can write an invoice for the Corner's bestest customer
And pop up somewhere guaranteed to make my friends all flustimered.
In short, as one insane enough to be fourth-wall aware-iter,
I am the very model of a modern cartoon character!
(In short, as one insane enough to be fourth-wall aware-iter,
She is the very model of a modern cartoon character!)
In fact, when I know what is meant by "Psychoshy" and "Appledash",
When I can tell from sight at once the Hubble from my sugar stash,
When such assorted in-jokes and memetics I can allude to,
And when I know precisely what's been referenced by "shoo-be-doo",
When I know all the puns that can be made with horse anatomy,
When more humans adore me than Celestia's academy,
In short, as I'm one part of six of elemental harmony...
(Harmony? Jarmony, karmony, larmony, ooh!)
You'll say that I'm an undisputed master cartoon charm pony!
(You'll say that she's an undisputed master cartoon charm pony!
You'll say that she's an undisputed master cartoon charm pony!
You'll say that she's an undisputed master cartoon charm po-arm pony!)
My existence, though my backstory long into my past extends
Was only begun back in the beginning of the twenty-tens.
And so, as one insane enough to be fourth-wall aware-iter
I am the very model of a modern cartoon character!
(And so, as one insane enough to be fourth-wall aware-iter
She is the very model of a modern cartoon character!)"

As the unseen orchestra got their last few notes in, Pinkie considered the entity now before her, having made her way to the balloon being over the course of the musical number. It really did appear to be a trio of living balloons, complete with strings that trailed down, knotted themselves, and reemerged as spindly legs. The massive heads looked down at her and hooted with laughter again.

"It's a good thing this story takes place before Season Two," the mare mused, "or I'd find this a lot more disturbing. Come on, guys! Let's go have some fun!"

The laughter elemental literally jumped for joy, then brought the red, wrinkled head dubbed "trollface" down so Pinkie could scramble up on it. Once she was in place, all four mouths gave another lengthy guffaw as the thing began wandering who-knew-where.

Laughter Elemental 3BB
Creature — Elemental
Whenever an opponent loses life, you may gain that much life. (Damage causes loss of life.)
"Laughter can be many things. Mirthful or malicious, cold or crazed, it shows that at least one pony is happy, but says nothing about how."
—Mineral MacGuffin, A Guide to the Elements of Harmony, Third Edition
2/2

Fluttershy's cottage. A place of peace and healing. More so than usual, in fact. Patients were recovering at speeds the pegasus had never seen before. Normally, she would be thrilled that the animals were healing at such uncanny rates, but she couldn't help but think: What if they healed faster than she could treat them? This wasn't a matter of job security, but of practical medicine. Oh, diseases wouldn't be concern, since the microbes didn't appear to be similarly vitalized, but what about injuries? Already there were animals with fractures that were healing twice as fast as expected. What if some poor squirrel broke a bone that mended incorrectly before Fluttershy could set it? She just didn't know if she could intentionally break a bone, to cause pain and suffering in the name of healing. It flew in the face of the Hippocampic Oath! What would the legendary seapony known as the Father of Medicine say upon seeing one who had taken his solemn vow doing such a thing?

Well, assuming that seaponies could speak or, indeed, even breathe in air. If they existed at all. And even if they did, this was the pony who'd claimed that mares and stallions had different numbers of teeth without bothering to count. Not to mention—

Fluttershy was interrupted from the deconstruction of her hero by a knock at the door. "Coming!" she called, grateful for the visitor. She wasn't sure she wanted to follow that line of though to its conclusion. No, that way led to unpleasantly applied bonesaws and giant glowing Marescovites... The butter-coated pegasus cleared her head of such distasteful thoughts as she opened the door. "Helloooooh my..."

Eyes the size of her head stared back at her. A mouth was opened wide enough to swallow her whole. And the face in which these features were set not only filled her doorway, it was giving off its own light. The effect was akin to the full moon coming down from the heavens to ask if it could borrow a cup of banished pony, having found itself fresh out.

Fluttershy's reaction was both predictable and entirely understandable. "Eep!" With that, she slammed her door in the prodigious face. As the gentle mare fought to get her breathing under control, she gradually became aware of a strange sound coming from outside. It wasn't a growl, a scratching, or even the regular bass susurration that should have come from the breathing of something as big as her visitor.

It was sobbing.

The unmistakable cries immediately switched the instinct guiding Fluttershy's actions from "fight or flight" to "maternal". She opened the door again to see that same massive form with eyes screwed shut, expressing its sorrow with a surprisingly gentle, high-pitched voice.

Guilt and regret stabbed at the pony. She'd caused this! Well then, she could fix it as well. Since the behemoth had moved back a bit (probably from shock, the poor thing), it was easy for her to work her way to its side and give the best hug she could to something so enormous. "There, there," she cooed, "I'm sorry. You just startled me is all."

The sobbing ceased almost immediately. From this angle, Fluttershy could see that the creature continued for quite a length, the rearmost portions of its body extending past her fence. As it adjusted itself to get a better look at her, she saw that it was segmented into a row of nearly spherical sections, like a chain of connected bubbles. At the front and rear thirds of its span, each segment was tipped with a pair of stubby rounded legs. The pony-gulping mouth she'd been so afraid of was, she could now see, as toothless as Gummy's. Furthermore, it was now clearly smiling. Overall, it seemed to be a foal's drawing of a caterpillar, just larger and more luminous than the usual portrayal.

Despite her vast zoological experience, Fluttershy was unfamiliar with this strange entity. Between appearance and behavior, she settled on "caterpillar" as a temporary label. "Why don't we go in—" She quickly reconsidered as she realized that her house simply couldn't handle guests of this magnitude. "Go... Go to my friend Twilight! I'm sure she'll know what you are. and maybe we'll even get to see if you'll turn into a beautiful butterfly."

The glowing grub nodded, then bunched itself up and seemed to bow before her.

"Do... do you want me to ride you there?"

Another nod, a bit more awkward in its current position.

Fluttershy couldn't help but smile at the idea. "Okay. Just follow my directions and we'll be there in no time at all." A moment airborne and she settled herself atop the massive head. The larva then inched its way towards Ponyville, exuding a distinct air of triumph.

Angel watched the two go. Despite his best efforts, he simply hadn't been able to bring himself to harm the giant glowworm that had just made off with his pet pony. The thing had managed to come off as even more gentle and innocent than she did, something the lagomath would've sworn was physically impossible.

With a sigh, he righted himself upon his meditation carrot and began methodically gnawing into it. The runes were relatively simple and would take little time to inscribe. There was no sense in ruining them through haste. Once they were complete, he'd have all the time in the world to show what happened to gargantuan maggots that messed with his little pony.

Kindness Elemental 3WW
Creature — Elemental
Kindness Elemental is indestructible.
Prevent all damage that would be dealt to and dealt by Kindness Elemental.
"Kindness persists long after most other elements have exhausted themselves. When there is nothing left to give, to tell, to swear to, or to laugh at, there is still somepony who wants to help."
—Mineral MacGuffin, A Guide to the Elements of Harmony, Third Edition
0/6

Where time had/has/will have no meaning

Tezzeret had been called many things by many beings. Genius, madman, boss, insect, seeker, agent, friend, murderer, and a hundred other titles better and worse than any of these. Even what he used for his name was more of a description. In the argot of the slums where he'd grown up, a tezzeret was an improvised weapon kept hidden until it could strike a crippling blow. But at his core, beneath the braggadocio, ruthlessness, and sentimentality, there was a basic truth that defined the man more than his artifice, his right arm, even his Spark:

Tezzeret was a silly man in a serious Multiverse.

This may not seem like an especially world-shaking revelation, but it did mean that if all the planeswalkers who might have been moving through the Blind Eternities, he was by far the best to encounter Ditzy Doo.

Of course, he didn't know that at the time. "What is that?"

A weedy, sarcastic voice sounded in his left ear. It was, in fact, his own, save that it was stripped of the arrogance and harshness that came from an early life spent clawing his way up from the very bottom rung of a very tall social ladder. The voice's name was Doc Jest, and its story was a long and strange one which will not be discussed here. It said this: "Offhand, I'd say a pegasus. You didn't notice, but it burst out of that plane like a homunculus with its head on fire."

"Really?"

"Yup. Think some ætherworker sent it out here?"

The dreadlocked human drifted closer to the equine ejecta, close enough to perceive which plane had spat it out. "Unlikely, for two reasons. One, æthercraft is not a common practice on Ungula."

"Ungula? Well, that'd certainly explain why it looks more like a kid's doodle than any winged horse I've ever seen. What's two?"

"It's been more than twenty seconds now and it's still a pegasus." Normally, any matter left in the Bastard Plane was torn apart by the interstitial chaos. There was only one exception to this rule.

Doc summarized that rule quite nicely. "Are you saying this thing's a planeswalker? Er, trotter? Flapper? Whatever. Is that even allowed to happen?"

"Clearly, or it wouldn't be drifting by us." Tezzeret's sentimentality gave him an unpleasant twinge as he recalled a similar first 'walk. "We're going to help this creature."

"We are?"

"Do you have any objections, Doc?"

"Would you care if I did?"

The artificer took a moment to consider this. "No. In this instance, I don't believe I would."

"As long as we get to Mirrodin eventually. The boss breathing down your neck kind of takes on a greater urgency when he's a dragon."

"Yes, yes." Through will and magic, the man set himself forward to intercept the other 'walker.

Luna squirmed a bit in the early morning sunlight. It wasn't that she'd been up for a while. She technically didn't need sleep, though according to Celestia she started going a little crazy after the two week mark. Nor was it the sensation of ceding the sky to her sister. After so long, that felt right. No, it was the idea of having to go out in public. In the day. Without an illusion. With less than twelve hours warning.

While Luna often wondered how she had justified the ecological devastation that eternal night would have brought, she never once questioned how she could've come to hate her sister.

The princess of the night decided that she needed to distance herself from that particular line of thought. "Where is Trixie? I told her to make an early night of it."

As if in response, there came that unique blend of hoofsteps, muffled curses, and ominous thumps that comes from somepony in a hurry trying very hard to neither be late nor break anything valuable. After a short while, this cacophony resolved itself into Trixie. Her horrendous bedmane hinted at how she'd rushed here. "Forgive my tardiness, Your Highnesses," she panted, bowing to each princess in turn. She then leveled a glare at Ditzy. "Somepony thought it would be funny to unleash upon me horrors the likes of which pony was not meant to know."

The pegasus met this accuastion with a flat look and a raised eyebrow until she realized that both royal sisters were staring at her with a mix of shock and revulsion. "Wha— She's exaggerating!"

"Am I, Ditzy Doo? Am I?"

"Yes! Yes, you are! You asked for a demonstration of hornless magic. I told you I was recovering from mana exhaustion. You insisted that I do something. I performed one of the few spells I could with what power was available to me."

Trixie scoffed at this. "I had no idea that transforming yourself into an eldritch abomination was so effortless for you."

The blonde sighed. "It was an illusion. A trick of the light. You do them all the time."

Luna decided that it was best to intervene, both to keep the peace and resolve this argument before all of reality collapsed out from under them. "Ditzy, what exactly did you do?"

The pegasus thought for a moment on how best to respond. "Why don't I demonstrate?"

"WHAT!?" The blue unicorn ducked and covered, planting her forehooves firmly over her eyes. "Avert Your eyes, Your Excellencies! The horror may be too great even for You!"

Celestia gave a small, puckish grin. "I'll take my chances."

Luna held back an undignified giggle. "After all this fuss, how can I look away?"

Ditzy said nothing more, simply shaping a bit of her magic into a familiar shape from her days of wandering the Multiverse. As she expected, neither princess nor her daughter had Trixie's apoplectic reaction.

The moon goddess tilted her head as she considered the phantasm. "I suppose I see how such a form would work. Seems a trifle ludicrous, but still."

Her older sister gave a warm smile. "Mother used to do something like this when you were being fussy, Luna. It never failed to make you laugh."

The same could be said of Dinky. "Mommy's a monkey!"

Trixie risked a peek out from under her hooves. "Are you all mad? It's a human! Enslavers of ponies! Despoilers of worlds! Cruelest and foulest of all demons!"

Ditzy rolled her eyes as she released the image. "They're not that bad. Well, most of them."

The showmare gazed at her with naked awe. "You... you've seen humans? And lived?"

"Seen, met, befriended. If you'd like, I'll tell you about it when the world isn't in crisis. Right now..."

"Quite." Celestia moved so she could address each of the unlikely quartet. They, in turn, formed a rough line to optimize their view of her. The sun princess smiled as she moved down the line, reviewing her troops. Kind of. If she were ever in a war where her only available forces were a lone pegasus, two unicorns, one of whom was still a filly, and her own sister, she'd probably either surrender or make the sun go nova. Depending on the nature of the enemy, of course. In any case, she came to a halt before the four of them. "Dearest friends. Loyal subjects. Beloved sibling. I have placed upon your shoulders a most awesome task, one that may decide the fate of all Equestria, if not the universe as a whole. I would never have done so if I did not have the utmost confidence that you would succeed.

"According to scouting reports, what we had most feared has come to pass. Entities the likes of which I have never seen have appeared in and around Ponyville, and appear to be congregating at the Books and Branches Library. Reports have reported five of the beings, so they are no doubt attempting to call forth the sixth, a being of pure magic. There is no telling what such a creature could be capable of.

"I ask of you this: Stop these monstrosities by any means necessary. Do not allow the most terrible of them to be born. Save this land. Will you do this?"

Ditzy bowed solemnly. "Yes, Your Majesty."

Dinky gave an exaggerated guard salute. "By your command!"

Trixie smirked. "Consider it done, Your Highness."

Luna rolled her eyes. "Now that you've gotten your speech out of the way, can we go?"

The princess of the day gave her sister a most undignified raspberry. "Oh, you're no fun."

"I just don't want all of space and time to collapse before we even get there."

The pegasus frowned and looked to the sky. "Oh, we'll have plenty of warning before any of that happens. Trust me."

The alicorns shared a concerned look, and the elder gave a nod. "Go, then. Best of luck to all of you. And Luna?"

"Yes?"

"Try not to destroy any microwave ovens."

Luna closed her eyes and muttered, "One time. I do that one time..." Sighing, she lit her horn.

At first, it was the same midnight blue as seen when she was using telekinesis. From Ditzy's perspective and to her astonishment, the glow rapidly darkened, becoming a sort of anti-light. This spread across the alicorn's body, until she was a pony-shaped patch of radiant shadow. Stars became visible in the equine void. The border between Luna and the rest of existence rapidly shifted, and the grey pegasus found herself surrounded on all sides by the inky, star-speckled void of space. She still felt something on her hooves, though when she looked down, it was just more of the all-encompassing eternal night.

Then, something at the edge of her vision drew her attention. At first, it had just been motion, but now Ditzy could put a name to it. It was blue, writhing, scintillating with specks of starlight. It was attached to an alicorn of Celestia's size whose coat blended perfectly with the nothingness around her. Green, slit-pupilled eyes were drawn to the expanse's only other occupant. A face that had been last seen during the previous summer solstice was looking at the mailmare with naked astonishment.

"Well," said Nightmare Moon, "isn't this a surprise?"

Allies Assembling

Don't panic. That was the mantra Ditzy was silently repeating as she found herself alone in the infinite star-speckled void of space with the Mare in the Moon. Don't panic. She filled her mind with the phrase, plastering it across her psyche in big, friendly letters. It was preferable to thinking about the ebon alicorn who was looking at her bemusedly.

"I should think that my presence must surprise you," said Nightmare Moon. "I know for a fact that the converse is true." She gave a brief start, then a soft laugh. "Oh! Listen to me, I sound like a zebra."

This stopped Ditzy's recitation cold. The Queen of Everlasting Night making casual conversation? Laughing at herself? Here on going was heck the what? The pegasus swallowed nervously and eked out, "A-as you say, Your Caliginous Majesty."

This was met with a larger smile. "Ooh, 'Your Caliginous Majesty'. I rather like that one. I'll have to remember it." The Mistress of Eternal Darkness sat, putting her eye-to-eye with her guest. "Oh, do relax, my little pony. I'm not going to bite."

If one was generous, one could describe Ditzy's response to this as sitting down. Those more concerned with accuracy would say that her knees gave out. "F-forgive my impudence, o Requiem of Sanity, but you seem less..." The mailpony wracked her vocabulary for a diplomatic way to end the sentence.

Nightmare Moon did it for her. "Enraged? Vengeful? Insane than a drunken draconequus? Stop me at any time, dear, I could go on for days."

"How about 'intimidating'?"

"Charitable, but still accurate." The Emperess of the Void gave another smile. "Well, for one, spend a thousand years on a truly desolate wasteland with only yourself for company, and we'll see how sane you are upon your return.

"For another, ponies these days no longer equate sunset with bedtime. My nights are genuinely appreciated now. I even have cults! Do you have any idea how much fun it is to have a cult dedicated to you? It's like having the most adorable fan club filled with ponies who will do anything if they think it will make you happy!"

"Huh." Ditzy could offer nothing more coherent, her brain still stuck on Nightmare Moon saying the word "adorable" without a hint of sarcasm or irony.

"Oh sure, eternal night would be nice, but it doesn't really feel necessary anymore, you know? My work isn't ignored anymore, it's adored! Really, banishing the sun would be gilding the lily at this point."

A question nagged at the pegasus's mind. "If I may ask, well... why are you still here?"

This brought out an indulgent smirk that Celestia would recognize as a Number 61, "Student laboring under an understandable misapprehension. "Tell me, young..."

"Ditzy Doo, milady."

"Tell me, young Ditzy, what is the nature of Nightmare Moon?"

The planeswalker mulled this over. She had only seen the Tyrant of the Furthest Reaches briefly during the Summer Sun Celebration, and her mana sight had mostly shown an amorphous blob of night sky. Now, all she could see was an alicorn of deepest black garbed in regalia of silver and steel, with only her mane matching Ditzy's memory. Finally, the blonde admitted, "I don't know."

"Not surprising." The slit-pupilled princess said this neutrally, an observation rather than an indictment. "The most learnéd sages of Canterlot have formulated countless hypotheses that try to answer that question. 'The Nightmare is a parasite of the soul.' 'The Nightmare was planted into Luna's mind by Discord.' 'The Nightmare is Luna, and she plots a coup against her sister still.'" The alicorn noticed the unease this last one brought to Ditzy, gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile, and added, "They're all wrong, especially the last."

They grey mare relaxed. A little. "So what are you?"

Nightmare Moon shrugged, a feat made much easier with her impressive wingspan. "It is not a question to which I have given much thought. If I had to guess, I would call myself the new moon to Luna's full. The same thing, only darker."

"I thought you said the 'you are her' theory was wrong."

"Oh, make no mistake, as far as I can tell, I am she and she is me and we are us. But neither of us wants to overthrow Celestia. Not anymore."

Ditzy was now so deep in thought that she had largely forgotten where and with whom she was. "So what did the Elements of Harmony do, exactly?"

The Black Regent's gaze wandered to some distant point in the endless expanse. "They gave me something that I would have never accepted through another medium, the only things that could quench my rage and restore my sanity."

"What?"

The smile on the Nightmare's muzzle was uncannily like Celestia's. Maternal, wise, and unquestionably sincere. "Love and tolerance."

The pegasus could think of only one response to something so profound. "Huh."

"It may not seem like much, but friendship really is magic, and a most potent one at that. The Elements are the ultimate expression of that magic." Nightmare Moon looked up at some sign only she could see. "It appears that this little tête-à-tête is drawing to a close."

Ditzy had a hunch that learning how the alicorn knew that would take more time than she had left. Thus, she simply rose and bowed. "Thank you for a most enlightening audience, Your Highness."

The dark noble still wore that smile so uncannily like her sister's. "Thank you, Ditzy Doo, for bringing some variety to my existence." She faded into the aphotic background, and one by one the stars began to wink out.

As they did, shadowy surfaces came into view beneath Ditzy, and the stars that hadn't vanished grouped together in the east. They resolved themselves into the Sun in a display not unlike the biggest flashbulb in the universe, and the pegasus recognized the gently rolling hills to the north of Ponyville.

She also recognized that Dinky, Trixie, and Luna were all staring at her. "What?"

"You collapsed once we materialized," explained the showmare.

"You've been unresponsive for nearly a minute," added the night princess.

Dinky seemed far less concerned now that the pegasus had come to. "Mommy was just thinking."

The mailmare couldn't help but smile. She ruffled her daughter's mane and said, "That's right. Mommy was finishing up her master plan to save Ponyville from the monsters."

The young unicorn reared back in excited delight. "Coolest mommy of all time!" She raced towards the town, crying, "Monsters beware! Here comes my Mommy!"

Ditzy's maternal mirth was interrupted by a pair of skeptical stares. "You were braindead on your hooves," Luna stated. "I was about to resort to electroshock. What really happened?"

The pegasus squirmed. Somehow, she didn't think the knowledge that Nightmare Moon still lurked somewhere in the younger princess would go over well. "I promise to tell you when we have the time, but right now, I need to keep an eye on my daughter." She took wing before Luna could ask more authoritatively.

Trixie swallowed the lump that had grown as she became increasingly alone with her regal tutor. "We should probably follow, Your Highness."

"Go," the princess answered absently. "We shall arrive in Our own time."

The lump came back with a vengeance. The blue unicorn gave a low bow. "As You will." She then ran for the town like her tail was on fire. Luna rarely employed the royal "we" anymore. When she did, there tended to be rather spectacular meteor showers the following night.

"Red Lobster to Book Fort. Come in, Book Fort."

The response crackled over her crustacean headset. "This is Book Fort. Reading you loud and clear, Red Lobster."

"I'm beginning the final sweep. Confirm feed reception."

"All angles confirmed." In the base, Twilight hesitated for a moment. "Be careful, Rarity."

The pilot couldn't help but give a coquettish grin at this. "Codenames while I'm in the cockpit, dear. Initiating final sensor sweep."

The Fabulosity was, like its pilot, lightly armed but highly sensitive to even the tiniest detail. Just beneath the jet's streamlined fusilage lay countess sensors capable of extracting virtually any conceivable information. Also like its pilot, the plane was capable of breathtaking grace and poise, slipping over enemy territory wholly unnoticed nine times out of ten.

A sudden lurch made it clear that this was not one of them. "Red Lobster! I've lost starboard thaumeters four and five! They're showing nothing but polka dots!"

The ivory unicorn felt her blood chill. "Tachyon weapons..." Tachyons, the elementary particles of ugliness, were one of the Fabulosity's greatest weaknesses. If Rarity didn't get out of range soon, her beloved scout plane would be reduced to unspeakably hideous scrap. Oh, she would just die!

After a moment, she realized that she probably would die, what with the crash and all.

In any case, despite the twin threats of death and plaid, none of the Rarity's fear showed in her voice or her piloting. "Evasive manuevers," she said as calmly as she would an order at a café. "Disengaging from sweep."

She bobed and weaved, countering the brutish bursts of acid green and Day-Glo pink with elegant swoops and dives. Even as the skies grew choked with the smoke of vaporized polyester, the Fabulosity was a threaded needle weaving its way to safety.

"Nearly there," the pilot muttered to herself. As if summoned by this temptation of Fate, a naugahyde shell struck the plane directly. The aircraft was nearly torn in half, shards of the rock candy fuselage raining on the battlefield like sugared diamonds. Every screen and readout in the cockpit went blank, Twilight's frantic cries cut out, and gravity expressed its displeasure with Rarity's current altitude.

Despite all of this, the unicorn was smiling. Oh, it was by no means a pleased or satisfied smile. It was the manic rictus of a pony with nothing left to lose, ready to strike the match that would ignite a blaze of glory. "Passcode marshmallow omega one-one-two-three-five."

"Cataclysm contingency engaged. Goodbye."

She closed her eyes. "Goodbye, Fabulosity." A feeling of inner peace welled in her breast. By setting the magical reactor of the plane to overload, her final act would bring fifty kilotons of style to these ungrateful brutes.

I should probably intervene now.

"What?" Rarity looked around, mystified. That voice had been far more masculine than the prerecorded lines her dear little jet was programmed to produce.

Well, if I waited any longer, I can't imagine that it would be pleasant for either of us.

"Who's there?" Idly, the unicorn noted that gravity had had a change of heart, stopping her in midcrash.

"Hi, Sis!"

"Sweetie Belle?" Impossibly enough, her little sister was on top of her head.

"Wow, this is a really cool dream! I'm gonna have to tell Scootaloo about this!"

"But you're supposed to be... to be..." Somewhere in the fashionista's mind, a baton was passed from subconscious to conscious. "This is a dream." Everything but Sweetie became progressively grayer and duller.

Yes. And now its time to wake up.

Years in the past

Ditzy squirmed, neither ready nor willing to wake up quite yet. Then she paused as her drowsy mind tried to determine what wasn't quite right.

Well, for one, it was definitely colder than normal. Maybe there was a rogue cold front? It was still early in spring, after all. No, wait, she couldn't feel her comforter. And her bed felt far firmer than normal, totally unlike any cloud she'd ever felt. And there was some weird itch in her ear. Everything just felt off, but why?

"Ah, good, you're waking up."

Who was that? Why couldn't Ditzy open her mouth and ask who that was? Why couldn't she open her eyes either? Oh Celestia, why couldn't she move at all?

"Please, remain calm. You've just gone through a highly traumatic experience, and it would be best to ease you back into consciousness."

The pegasus fought to control herself. Listen to the voice. It is a calm, confident voice. The voice knows what it's doing. Steady, even breaths. Don't think about what the voice is talking about.

"Good. Now, I'm going to—"

Don't think about anything traumatic that might have happened recently. Don't think about how you got home and Dad's boss showed up. Don't think about Dad's hat, singed with lightning. Don't think about how it may be the biggest piece of him they could find. Don't think about how you'll never, ever see him again.

"Oh, come on. You were doing so well."

Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think about it don't think about it dontthinkaboutitdontthinkaboutitdo—

Ditzy squirmed, neither ready nor willing to wake up quite yet. Then she paused as her drowsy mind tried to determine the origin of an odd feeling of deja vu.

"Good, you're awake. Now, let's try this again."

Again? What was this strange pony talking about? Wait, why couldn't she—

"Before you panic, know that I'm keeping you still so that I can ease you into wakefulness. This is going to come as a big shock to you, and I think you'd like to have something left of your sanity after we're through."

Okay. She could deal with this. This pony was keeping her still and she couldn't feel any restraints, so he had to be using magic. That meant he was a unicorn, and that plus the uncloudiness of whatever it was she was resting on meant she was on the ground. What he was saying certainly wasn't reassuring her, but it made sense. She'd lived in Cloudsdale all her life. The culture shock was probably best taken slowly.

"You seem to be taking this well. Good. I'll free up eye control for you."

Ditzy's eyes opened, and she had to blink furiously a few times to adjust to the sudden burst of sunlight. Wow, she must have been out for a while. In any case, this was the surface, huh? Not much to look at, really. A big ol' puddle (a lake, she corrected herself,) surrounded by bare rock. And beyond that...

There was no beyond that. The pegasus reflexively checked her internal altimeter, unreliable though it was. Still, she was able to determine that she was very definitely not at sea level. A mountain, then? Did mountains have lakes?

"You're beginning to panic again. Please calm down. We are presently airborne. This is what is called a sky reservoir. Think of it as a very high density cloud."

Oh sure, never mind that this cloud happened to have an outer shell of stone. Wait, did that unicorn just read her mind? Well, no surprise, really. If she was somewhere where they could make rocks fly, the unicorns must be something else.

"You flatter me. Magically speaking, I'm nothing special. My ability to follow your surface thoughts comes from the same means by which I'm keeping you from moving. Speaking of which, do you feel up to standing?"

YES PLEASE! Ditzy was rather surprised at the urgency of the thought. She hadn't realized how much this complete motionless was getting to her until now. She was a pegasus. She was made for wide, open skies. This restraint was just plain wrong.

"Done. Go ahead."

She did, stretching out the various kinks and cramps that had come from Celestia-knew-how long spent without moving.

"All right. Before you next act, allow me to assure you that I mean you absolutely no harm."

Ditzy had assumed as much. Now she found herself wondering.

"Now then, turn around please."

Feeling increasingly ill at ease, she did so. What had been behind her was not a unicorn, as she'd thought. Instead, it a creature out of filly tales. The antagonist of everything from The Three Little Geese to Little Red Gliding Hood. Her costume of choice last Nightmare Night.

It was a human.

Ditzy quickly discovered that she was still unable to scream, producing a light hiss like an imitation of crowd noise.

The human sighed. "Wonderful. Look, I have no intention of doing any of the things you're imagining. Especially not stabbing you and drinking the blood. Honestly, do I look like a vampire to you?"

The adolescent pony had to admit, the ape-thing certainly didn't seem to very threatening beyond being a human. It seemed almost... sad, somehow. A sort of sadness it didn't even notice. Her heart went out to the creature.

At least, it did until she noticed its right arm. Then Ditzy learned that the beast had paralyzed her wings again at some point.

"What, this old thing?" The human looked at the assembly of twisted metal as though it had just noticed it. "It's all the rage where I come from."

That's nice, the pony thought at the abomination before her. Could you let me use my tongue, please?

"Oh, of course. My apologies."

"No problem," she said reflexively. "Well, yes, yes there is. You're not going to enslave me, eat me, or do anything else out of the stories, right?"

"Nothing of the sort."

"Okay, fine. So what will you do with me?"

"Give you a better welcome to the Multiverse than what I got."

"The what-now?"

"The Multiverse." The human gestured, and a golf ball-sized blob of metal rose out of the water. Ditzy wondered how long she had been out if her captor had time to prepare visual aids. "Suppose that this sphere is your world of Equestria." A series of similarly sized balls joined the ersatz-Equestria. An open sphere the size of a pony's head made from twisted wire came last, and the balls found their way inside. "While the model isn't to scale, it is a passable representation of your home universe, what we call a plane."

"Home universe?"

"I know, it's quite a bit to take in." If he really did sympathize, his expression didn't show it. It had barely shifted from mild disinterest the entire time Ditzy had been looking at him. "But yes, this is your plane, known to the wider Multiverse as Ungula. It is but one of an infinite array of worlds spread throughout the Multiverse. I am what is known as a planeswalker, able to move between them. So too are you."

"What." It wasn't a question, just a flat statement of incredulity. So much that Ditzy lay down lest her spinning head make her fall off the lip of the reservoir.

"I found you between planes. You had just exited Ungula rather violently."

The pony thought for a time on how to respond. Finally, she settled on a rather basic question. "So where are we now?"

"A plane known as Ravnica. Nice place, if you like cities. If not, well, you're rather out of luck."

Ditzy nodded, understanding little. "Okay. Now what?"

"Now? Well, now that I've saved your life, I rather think that you owe me a favor, and I know exactly how you can do so."

Dinky charged forward, fueled by the energy of youth and limitless confidence in her mother. After all, she was a pegasus who could use magic! And she knew how to make super-awesome chocolate chip pumpkin muffins! Beating up a few lousy monsters would be foal's play for her.

"Dinky! Stop!"

The filly skidded to halt, looking up to see her mother swooping down to her. She was confused for a moment, then shook her head at her own foalishness. "Sorry, Mommy. I went and ran off before you could tell me my part of the plan." Dinky gave an eager grin. "So, what'll I be doing? Do I get a sword? A magic sword? Does the sword make puppies? Can—"

"We're not getting a puppy, Dinky."

"Aw..."

"And your part of the plan is to stay safe and as far away as possible from the fighting."

"Awwwwww..."

Ditzy's will fought with her heart. They found a compromise, and the pegasus swept her daughter into a tremendous hug. "I need to know you're going to be okay, Muffin, or I'll be so busy worrying about you that I won't be able to stop the monsters."

The young unicorn processed this for a moment before sighing in resignation. "Okay, I guess..." Her expression returned to the bright, hopeful smile. "But can you at least bring home a monster part?"

That prompted a smile to contrast with Ditzy's imminent tears. "I'll see what I can do, Muffin. Now please, promise me you'll go straight to Auntie Carrot's and stay there."

"Yes, Mommy."

"And if the monsters show up there, run."

"Okay, Mommy."

Reluctantly, Ditzy took to the air again. "I'll see you soon!"

Dinky waved goodbye. "Good luck!"

Sniffing still, the grey mare made her way to the outskirts of the town proper. She couldn't see any obvious signs of the elementals, but the entire town seemed wrapped in a multicolored haze. There was some serious magic going on in there.

"So, what's this I heard about a plan?"

Ditzy sighed. "Hello, Trixie."

The unicorn walked to her side. "I ask only because I assume you went over it while I was still expunging your hideous little cantrip from my memory."

"You don't plan on letting that go any time soon, do you?"

The showmare essayed a shrug. "I hold grudges. I'm working on it. So, plan?"

"The plan is telling my filly that I have a plan so she'll trust me to take care of things and keep herself out of harm's way. After that, I'll play it by ear."

"So we have no plan whatsoever."

"Eeyup."

Trixie looked at the pegasus. Assuming that one eye pointing at her meant that she could be seen, she made an incredulous face. "Why are you the leader of this little farce, again?"

"Because I was the only one in the entire universe who knew it was coming and knows what it is."

"Do you know how to fix it?"

"Working on that part." With that, Ditzy closed her eyes.

The showmare was about to deliver another verbal barb when her horn began to tingle. "What are you doing?"

"Working on that part." The pegasus expanded her senses, examining how the metaphysical landscape of Ponyville had changed since the advent of the elementals. When she stumbled upon one such shift, she barely stifled a laugh. "Wow, really? Really?"

"What is it?"

"You wouldn't understand," Ditzy said idly, confirming her observation.

"Oh," sniffed Trixie, "something about jet streams or pressure differentials or some such."

"No, magic."

"What!" Ditzy blinked. One moment, she'd been looking at the town's overfed leylines. The next, her view was full of indignant blue mare. "You dare imply that the Great and Powerful Trixie , student of Her Royal Highness the Princess Luna, would not comprehend the mysteries of the arcane?"

The grey pony gave the same patient smile she used for Dinky's tantrums. "Have you ever heard of Tolaria?"

Trixie deflated with an almost audible whoosh of hot air. "Toe-what-ia?"

"Ask Dinky to tell you the story of the silly old pony who blew up time. It's one of her favorites." Ditzy closed her eyes again, beginning to establish a mana bond to an especially swollen nexus of energy. "For now, all you need to know is that there was once an academy there, not unlike Celestia's, and it was a potent source of magical power for those who possessed many magical items."

"So?"

"So, the Carousel Boutique has become something similar, and I have quite a few enchanted curios in my attic." The blonde mare opened her eyes. They were solid ovals of blue luminance. "Next stage of the plan: Reconnaissance."

Trixie opened her mouth to comment on the sudden existence of a plan, but she found herself speechless as Ditzy's spellcraft proceeded. The blue light expanded out of the pegasus's eye sockets like a soap film from a bubble wand. Two by two, spheres seperated themselves from the billowing energy. Once half a dozen orbs of light had formed, their creator's eyes went back to normal, and she smiled with the unique sense of fulfillment that comes from a spell well cast.

The unicorn finally found her voice. "What are these things?"

"These," answered Ditzy, "are probes." As she spoke, a golden film of energy settled into place on a circular patch of each probe, giving them the appearance of floating eyes. She continued, "I'd send them out whenever I travelled somewhere new to get a sense of the place. Lay of the land, local customs, that sort of thing."

"I... see." Trixie had never seen a spell like this before. Hesitantly, she poked the nearest magic eye with a hoof. It was firm, yet yielding, like the stress toy Her Nocturnal Majesty had given her. "So, what will you do with them now?"

"Find each elemental. See what is, what it's doing, and what obvious weaknesses it might have." With a thought, Ditzy brought the milieu into formation in front of her. Each one, the blue mare noted, was more or less looking in the direction of its mistress, but its gaze was slowly drifting in a seemingly random direction. "You know your assigned targets," said the planeswalker. "Seek them out." The spheres sped off towards town, two of them splitting off to head for different parts of the outskirts.

Trixie sat down. She tried to disguise her awe with nonchalance. "So, I suppose we wait for them to report back, then?"

The grey mare nodded, still looking at Ponyville. "It won't take long. I've got a passive mental link to them. If I focus, I can see what they see, and they can tell me when I should focus." Suddenly, her ears perked up. "Like now!"

An awkward silence followed this exclamation. Well, awkward for Trixie, at least. Eventually, she uttered, "So, could you—"

Ditzy, who had until now been utterly motionless, gave a gasp and a wince. "Ouch. Bad way to go."

"What happened?"

"Wha? Oh! Trixie!" The pegasus grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, guess I got lost in my own head there."

The showmare rolled her eyes. She wanted answers, not apologies! "What happened?"

"Well, I sent each probe to the home of one of the Bearers of the Elements. The one that went to Twilight Sparkle told me to follow its feed."

"Twilight Sparkle!" Trixie sprang to her hooves at the name. "What has she done? What manner of menace has she unleashed? How can we thwart her fell minion?"

Ditzy considered several reactions before settling on "concerned". "That's just the thing. I didn't see a magic elemental. I didn't even see Twilight. Once the probe got close enough to the library, it was torn apart."

The blue mare was aghast. "What could do that?"

"High ambient magic. My probes are basically clumps of energy kept stable by being much more magical than their surroundings. In a strong enough magic field, they basically dissolve." She noted the terror this brought to her audience. "O-of course, that only happens to something made of pure energy! We'd be fine."

Trixie relaxed. A little. "Ah. Well. So, I suppose my archrival and her new pet will have to remain a mystery for the time being."

Tactfully, the blonde chose to correct only one of the misapprehensions in that sentence. "Actually, that kind of intensity means that the magic elemental hasn't formed itself yet."

This prompted a look of delight from the unicorn. "Even better! We can stop her before she even gets started!"

"We still have five others to worry about." Ditzy paused for a moment to check the probes. "I've found two of them. Do you see the pink building that kind of looks like a wedding cake?"

Trixie scanned the horizon for a moment, then grimaced. "Much as I wish I couldn't. Yecch."

"A rather docile-seeming entity is in there. See if you can subdue it."

Ever the performer, the silver-maned mare held her head up high. "Not to worry. I shall make it rue the day it met the Great and Pow—"

"Good. If I end up needing help, I should be easy to find." With that, Ditzy took to the air.

Trixie watched her fly off, then carefully swept the immediate area for any witnesses. Satisfied, she allowed herself a pout and whispered "Meanie" before heading off to her objective.

Scootaloo was not having an awesome morning. The toaster had reduced her breakfast to charcoal, Dad had mentioned having to go shopping for school supplies, and Mom had said something about signing her up for, ugh, ballet classes. The orange-coated filly didn't care how much strength and agility dancing needed, the tutus were a dealbreaker. But that just led to her mother getting weepy-eyed about her tomcolt of a daughter and moaning about something involving cats and parades and carpets. It all went over the foal's head, but Dad seemed to find it hilarious.

Hopefully, things would improve now that Scootaloo was away from the drama queen. All she had to do was get the other Crusaders for some end-of-summer cutie mark attempts, assuming she didn't first run into—

"Get away from me, you little—!"

"Rainbow Dash!" The filly gazed up in adoration, seeing her hero performing incredible feats of aerial agility. It was like Dash was performing just for her!

It took a moment for the other presence to register, given Scootaloo's fangasmic tunnel vision. It seemed to be following the Best Young Flier turn for turn, loop for loop. Indeed, rather than reveling in her own athletic prowess, Dash seemed to be performing acrobatics as evasive maneuvers. But that didn't make any sense. Why would the living embodiment of awesome be running from a cloud? Indeed, what kind of cloud could even move on its own, much less keep up with the Rainbow Dash? Not even the Everfree Forest could—

Scootaloo's brain cut off this train of thought to devote all of its cognitive power to basking in the glory of a Buccaneer Blaze. Once the organ rebooted, it alerted its owner that her idol was coming to a landing right in front of her. The fanfilly immediately took hold of the opportunity. "Hi, Rainbow Dash!"

The cyan pegasus, exhausted from her attempts to shake the living thundercloud, offered a weary smile. "Hey," she managed between pants.

The winged Crusader took a deep breath, ready to bombard Dash with admiration. However, before she could begin, her expression shifted to one of fright and confusion. "What is that thing?"

Dash bit back a groan and looked behind her. Sure enough, there was the freaky rainbow cloud. She fought the increasingly appealing temptation to collapse. All that effort and nothing to show for it. "I don't know," she grumbled, "but it won't leave me alone."

Scootaloo looked at the strange being with new eyes. Followed somepony everywhere. Copied that pony's appearance. That pony didn't know who, how, or why. The foal's eyes narrowed. "Oh, hay no."

"Watch that mouth, Scoots," chastised the other pegasus. "You never know when a parent might be in earshot." Dash smirked internally. Who said she was a bad influence?

Still, her hard-won life lesson went unheeded. "Dash," said the filly, "I think I can help you with your problem."

The rainbow-maned mare raised an eyebrow. "I appreciate the offer, but I don't think you're gonna get a cutie mark for dealing with annoying weather."

Once again, Scootaloo wasn't listening. Instead, she was staring into the twin gouts of rainbow flame that served as the elemental's eyes. The loyalty elemental, an inchoate mass of emotional and magical energy loosely bound to a nebulous form, had nothing as sophisticated as a language. What Scootaloo was attempting, though, went beyond language. More accurately, it went beneath language, into a peculiar stretch of the misty depths of the unconscious.

It was known to a select few, and dismissed by many as a myth, or at best a collective hallucination. The few scholars who knew the truth called it the fanmind, an empathic connection born of enthusiasm and desire for a common subject. The fanmind was what turned a horde of screaming adolescents into a pack of ruthless predators bent on overwhelming their common prey. Now, it was serving as the means of communication between Rainbow Dash's two most obsessed devotees.

Scootaloo brought herself into a classic charging pose: Head down, legs tensed, wings flared. She is mine.

The elemental spread its arms wide, their constituent clouds bulging. Arcs of multicolored lightning danced around it, leaving a familiar afterimage in the filly's vision. I am hers.

The pony considered this for a moment. She assumed a proud and erect posture, appearing to imitate a royal guard. One eyebrow slowly rose. We could...

Twin fireballs burst from the apparition's eye sockets. Agreed.

"Um..." Ironically, Dash felt sorely out of her element. She could tell that something was going on. Indeed, some hint of understanding itched at the base of her brain. Still, she had no real grasp on what was happening.

When the thing that had been following her all morning kowtowed before Scootaloo of all ponies, it only served as a confirmation. Ditto said filly jumping onto its shoulders, her mane poofing into a purple parody of Pinkie Pie's in the process.

Everything became clear after the cloud straightened up. Mostly because it's hard to misinterpret somepony pointing at you and shouting "Get her!"

Spike greeted the day with a tremendous jaw-cracking yawn. Then he paused for a moment, because there had been far more crack to the yawn than he had anticipated. Furthermore, hadn't he been molting? He certainly hadn't been able to open his mouth last time, trapped as it had been under the dead scales.

He also hadn't been able to open his eyes, but he did now. A quick self-assessment showed a marked difference from the last molt. That had been similar to a shedding snake, the hatchling trapped within the pale shell of his old scales until he squirmed out through the mouth. Now it looked more like he'd try to put on clothes he'd long outgrown, the old layer torn apart at joints and shifts in physiognomy.

Spike moved to the vanity to get a better view. Those shifts proved to be major indeed. His muzzle protruded a bit more, his tail was slightly but noticably longer, his proportions were more mature and less infantile. He'd definitely gained at least an inch or two in height, and though the crests along his cheeks and the top of his head hadn't grown in fully, they seemed sharper, less rotund. The young dragon gave his reflection a roguish grin. "Lookin' good there, Spike. Lookin' good."

Of course, being the mature fellow that he was, it goes without saying that Spike did not giggle in delight at this development. He also didn't jump up and down in glee, nor did he make various poses in the mirror. Nope. Didn't do any of that.

Once the maturing young cesium dragon was done with very definitely not indulging his vanity, he noticed something else in the mirror: A large lump in his boss/big sister/surrogate mother's bed. Spike felt a surge of both affection and dread. "I hope she took care of herself while I was out of commission," he whispered. "I should go talk to the other girls, make sure of it."

His mission decided, he strode purposefully out of the library. The hatchling then had to stop, since a ring of ponies had surrounded Books and Branches. At first, Spike tried to slip through the circle, but the ponies were shoulder-to-shoulder, and he wasn't quite as tiny as he still thought he was.

After insinuation came diplomacy. "Excuse me," he said to the nearest member of the barricade, a blue-coated unicorn stallion, "could I get through?" The unicorn gave no indication that he had heard anything. Indeed, save for the slight rise and fall of his chest and the occasional blink, he gave no indication that he was alive. He just stood in place, directing a glazed stare at the tree.

Still, Spike had been raised by Twilight Sparkle, and if nothing else, that upbringing had instilled in him two values: Persistence and faith in the problem solving power of experimentation. Thus, the dragon repeated this one-sided exchange with several more ponies before giving a frustrated sigh. "I've had better conversations with Owloysius."

"Who?"

"Oh, don't you start—" Spike cut himself off. Twilight's number-two assistant was on vacation. That meant somepony had actually reacted to him. A quick scan of the crowd revealed one pony who seemed a bit less catatonic than the rest. Even better, it was one he recognized from her frequent patronage of the library. "Lyra!"

The mint-green mare slowly tore her gaze from the building. "Spike. Hi." "Less catatonic" was clearly a relative term here. Her eyes were unfocused, and the dopey smile was certainly nothing like her deadly serious expression during her "private research".

Still, the dragon didn't need much. "Hey, do you think you could move for a sec? I've been asleep for a few days and I'd like to catch up with Rarity. And the others. ...And Rarity."

"Move?" Her blank expression made it clear that even the thought of leaving the spot was inconceivable.

Fortunately, while Twilight had raised Spike, he was in many ways her compliment. Nowhere was that more obvious than in socialization. He made it a point of remembering the library's more frequent customers, since it was fairly obvious that nopony else was going to. Thus, he knew one tactic guaranteed to work on Lyra. "Wouldn't you like to tell Bonbon about how great this place is?"

"Bonbon?" The unicorn blinked, then gasped. "Bonbon! You're right! She'll love this! I gotta go get her!" She awkwardly backed up, pressed as she was against her neighbors. Presciently, Spike followed close in front of her. Once both had extruded themselves, the ring of ponies immediately moved closer to the tree until its constituents were again flank-to-flank.

The hatchling looked back as he resumed his walk to the Carousel Boutique, then gave a shrug. Ponies. Go figure.

Never did it occur to him to wonder why everypony entranced by the library was a unicorn.

Marion Mare had been mayor of Ponyville for nearly twenty years, running on a platform of experience, minimal government interference, and nopony else wanting the job. It was widely agreed that she had met the challenge of maintaining peace and order on the edge of the Everfree Forest as best as anypony could. Oh sure, there was the occasional minor disaster, and the less said about Winter Wrap-Up the better, but the day-to-day operation of the town went more smoothly than most had dared to hope. Really, if the worst thing that could be said of a town within walking distance of the infamous wood was an annual logistical snafu, then the pony in charge clearly knew what she was doing.

In few instances was this more clear than when she walked onto her front porch, beheld Pinkie Pie atop the lovechild of a hydra and a balloon animal, and simply turned around, walked back inside, and locked her door.

"Huh," mused Pinkie after this episode, "I wonder what that was about."

The laughter elemental cackled at this, but offered nothing constructive.

"Pinkie!"

The party pony perked up upon hearing her name, but the call had no obvious source. Worse, it had echoed to the point where there wasn't even an obvious direction in which to look. Fortunately, the recourse was obvious. "Helloooooooo~," she called, flawlessly enunciating the tilde.

"Over here!"

This time the cry was much clearer. Pinkie turned to her left and spotted a rapidly approaching pegasus. She grinned and waved, recognizing the voice. "Hi, Ditzy!"

The other mare didn't respond until she got close enough to answer at a more socially acceptable volume. "Pinkie, I—"

"So, didja have fun in Canterlot? It's a shame you couldn't be here, you'd have been so proud of how Twilight handled the mail! Though I guess if you were here, she wouldn't have needed to handle it, but still! She was all, 'Dash, I need your best fliers.' and Dashie was all 'No, I need my best fliers!' and Twilight said 'Princess Celestia is counting on me to deliver the mail!' and Dashie said 'The plants are all counting on me to deliver rain!' and Twi—" The poofy-maned pony was abruptly cut off by the sudden disappearance of her mouth. She inquisitively ran a hoof over her face. Yup, smooth, unbroken skin.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," began Ditzy, white glow fading from her eyes, "but I need you to listen for a second. This thing you're riding is weakening the foundations of reality simply by existing. You need to—"

The elemental's yellow head interjected with a painful looking headbutt, sending the pegasus rocketing towards the ground. She barely managed to pull up enough to turn it into a furrow-chewing slide along the thoroughfare.

Pinkie was clearly displeased by this, judging by her expression and the volume of the indistinct sounds coming from her sealed jaw. The jumping up and down on the entity's head was probably also a tip-off, at least until she bounced off of it like a trampoline. Surprised by the bigger bounce, she couldn't react before landing on the couch-like upper jaw of the blue head. The earth pony sat up just in time to see the crimson balloon she'd dubbed "trollface" give the harshest, cruelest laugh she'd ever heard, directly and quite obviously at her.

That tore it. This thing had hurt her friend, clearly didn't care about anypony's feelings, and hadn't even applauded after her musical number! Such thoughtless cruelty would not be tolerated.

Glowering, Pinkie performed a breathtaking series of bounces off of the three inflated heads, coming to a stop at Ditzy's side. She felt an odd itching sensation as her lips reseperated. "You okay, Ditzy?"

"'M fine," came the rather dazed response. "M' face took mosta th' impact."

"Good. Now, what is it that I have to do to this thing?"

"Gotta d'stroy it. Sorry, no other—"

It was a good thing that Ditzy's head was still somewhat wedged in the earth. The grin that grew on Pinkie's face was not something that should be seen by the sane. "Don't worry. I got this."

The pegasus pulled herself up into a sitting position and turned to ask how. She got out a "Huh?" before everything exploded.

To mana sight, the world suddenly became a photonegative. The laughter elemental's bulbous faces were reshaped into three different flavors of horror and suffering, inexplicably wreathed in acid-green flames. The road had been transmuted into a cracked, glowing sheet of igneous rock, seething and steaming with volcanic potential.

Worst was Pinkie Pie. Her colors hadn't been inverted, simply deepened, going from cotton candy to blood. Her mane hung limp and matted with the vital fluid. From her eyes and mouth oozed a black ichor. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth, a vivid slab of raw scarlet meat against its tarlike backdrop. All the while, a single word echoed through Ditzy's mind. "ZALGO."

A second later, the town had returned to normal, save for two exceptions. First, the laughter elemental was clearly dead, its heads popped and its body dissolving into flakes of ash. Second, there was a pony hovering above Pinkie, apparently through the use of a propellor beanie.

"Who are you?" Ditzy asked of the newcomer.

"Exigencies coordinate simultaneous cheese cannons! Details at pi."

Understandably, this didn't answer her question. The pegasus turned to Pinkie for something more coherent (and what a sorry state of affairs that implied...) "What just happened?"

"Noodles squamously frondled—"

"Not you."

The earth pony smiled. "Oh, it's real simple. See, when Avatar of Discord enters the battlefield, I have to sack it unless I discard two cards. I went with Anger to give her haste and Fiery Temper so I could cast it via madness. So now, the Laughter Elemental's dead and we've got a five-three flier to take on the others!"

Ditzy took a moment to parse this as best she could. Then another. By the third, she decided to just latch onto one of the few things she'd understood. "From what I've heard, an avatar of discord is a shadow cast by the demon Rakdos the Defiler."

"Psh. Well yeah, on Ravnica." Pinkie replied, tonally insinuating that this was only slightly less obvious than water being wet. "Here, they end up looking like her." She grinned as she looked up at the peculiar purple pony. "I call her Screwball."

Screwball gave the pegasus a midair bow. "Would you like a chocolate milk of glass?"

This was all just too much for Ditzy. "Who are you!?"

Pinkie's expression turned solemn. "On Ravnica, I am the nameless patron totem of Rauck-Chauv, the Gruul festival of spontaneous vandalism. On Segovia, I am Apocalypse-Given-Flesh, accidental flattener of civilizations. On Kamigawa, I am Piki-Piki, kami of akki poetry and octopus hats. Oona, queen-mother of the faeries of Lorwyn, remembers me as the pony who tried to eat her. Nicol Bolas, elder dragon planeswalker, acknowledges me as the one being who has withstood his touch with sanity unchanged. Emrakul, The Aeons Torn, She of the Six Thousand Tentacles of Annihilation, considers me her therapist." A smile returned to her face, but this was not a sugar-fueled manic grin. It was the confident smirk of a being who had been almost everywhere and had tried virtually everything. Twice, in some cases. She concluded, "I am Pinkie Pie. I am a planeswalker. And I am on your side."

As is usually the best course of action with Pinkie, Ditzy decided to shelve her questions and just go with it. "You know, I think we can actually do this."

"Yeeee-haw!"

Both ponies turned to behold a behemoth, legs the shape and size of century oaks, head an apple the size of a house. A tiny smudge of orange was just visible atop its crown.

"Maybe," amended the pegasus.

Pinkie, the Festive 3BR
Planeswalker — Pinkie
+1 - Pinkie, the Festive deals 1 damage to target player. You gain 1 life.
-3 - Untap and gain control of target creature. That creature gains haste and "At the beginning of the end step, sacrifice this creature."
-6 - Each player reveals the top card of his or her library, puts that card into his or her hand, and loses life equal to that card's converted mana cost. You may repeat this process as many times as you choose.
4

Plight of Foal's Betrayal

Spike strutted in that manner in which only dragons can strut. It was a strut born of the instinctual awareness that the blood of tyrants and living forces of nature flowed through the strutter's veins, that the only thing distinguishing passersby from lunch was a good mood, that the strutter was simply better than everypony else in at least a one-mile radius. It would illegal to walk in such a manner without wearing sunglasses if there were a six-foot-tall dwarf handy to arrest the offender.

The young dragon's reason for deploying his swag could be summarized in one word: Rarity. Surely the most beautiful creature in Ponyville would be enamored with his newly mature look. The possibility of failure was not even dignified with consideration. She. Was going. To love him.

As Spike approached the Carousel Boutique, an odd sound broke through his monomaniacal confidence. He stopped as he tried to identify it. A high-pitched whistling shriek, growing louder, akin to when Rainbow Dash—

His train of thought was derailed by a nearly supersonic Ditzy Doo blasting through the door of the shop. Understandable, given that the resulting shockwave sent him flying headfirst into a hedge.

Once Spike extricated himself from the shrubbery, he rushed to the doorway. Rarity could've been hurt! And, you know, other ponies. Once he reached the entrance, the young dragon stopped to take in the scene, a muttered "Holy guacamole..." escaping his lips.

The pegasus had left an incredible wake of devastation, tearing apart floorboards and shattering windows as she'd burned off momentum. Now she stood atop a prone Rarity. Spike couldn't see either mare's expression, but it was pretty obvious that "friendly smile" would not be an accurate guess.

The dragon approached the two, ready to defend the object of his desire, but was stopped in his tracks by Ditzy's voice. Her tone made Twilight on her worst day sound heavenly by comparison. She spoke one word at a time, partly for emphasis, partly as a concession to her burning lungs. "Where. Is. My. Daughter?"

Rarity disdainfully glanced at each forehoof pinning her down before turning to their owner. "Try asking politely, dear. It works wonders."

Spike couldn't see it, but up until now, Ditzy's eyes had been glowing a harsh blue-white. Rarity's uncaring response had her literally seeing red, as her newly crimson gaze reflected off of the unicorn's coat. Arcs of electricity began climbing up her spread pinions. She snorted furiously, sending out a shower of sparks. "Unless you want to fry along with the building, you will tell me where Dinky is." Spike resumed his approach, ready to protest. "Please." This last syllable was punctuated by a spat puff of flame and a young dragon stopping out of fear.

The fashionista continued to be unimpressed. "Well, since you asked so nicely. Trixie?"

"Not exactly." The pegasus craned her head to the staircase behind her. There was the cerulean unicorn, with another one of those damn crystals over her horn. And with her, wrapped her magic, was

"Dinky!" Ditzy raced to her daughter, but skidded to a horrified halt halfway. Her pupils shrank as she took in the jewel sunken into her child's forehead, looking grossly disproportionate on one so small. She felt the rage return, but the brief interruption in adrenaline had been enough. The strain the blonde had endured to get here so quickly presented its bill, and she collapsed, exhausted.

As she struggled to keep her eyes open, the grey mare looked to Dinky. The filly looked back, a sad smile on her face. "It's okay, Mommy. You'll understand soon."

Tears streaming down her cheeks, Ditzy Doo lost consciousness.

Ravnica, years earlier

"You put a what in my what!?"

As out of context dialogue went, reflected Tezzeret, it didn't get much better than that. "I inserted a very fine wire of etherium through your ear and into your auditory cortex, allowing me to provide real-time translation with my every word. Once the heuristics had a firm grasp on how your brain processes language, I could and did scale it down to a minute bead."

All this technobabble didn't seem to placate Ditzy. "A bead that's still in my brain."

The artificer shrugged. "I didn't hear you complain about having a demigod in there. What difference do a few micrograms of metal make?"

"It... I... You..." The pegasus felt the reason was obvious, yet found herself at a loss for words as to what it was. Finally, she spluttered, "Because!"

Tezzeret hummed at this. "Well, under the weight of such devastating logic, I would be remiss if I didn't offer to turn it off." He considered the finger joints of his etherium arm. "Of course, you'd have to develop your own translation method. Or, horror of horrors, actually learn languages."

Ditzy chewed the issue along with her lower lip. "I..." She slumped. "I guess I just don't like the idea of ponies—"

"People."

"Right, sorry. The idea of people screwing around with my brain. At least, with me not knowing it."

The human nodded. "I couldn't agree more."

The incredulous look this provoked was only enhanced by its bearer's off-kilter eyes. "Then why did you do it to me?"

"Because it wasn't my brain," answered a smiling Tezzeret. His smile only widened as he watched the young pony pass through brief confusion, shock, and petulant anger. Finally, he added, "Also, I needed some way to communicate with you and assure you of my good intentions, and seemed unlikely that you'd have the patience and proper mindset for foreign language courses."

Ditzy scratched at the rock that made up the sky reservoir. "Yeah..."

Tezzeret's expression returned to its usual neutrality. "In any case, the man to whom I will be sending you has a tendency to read surface thoughts almost as unavoidably and reflexively as you perceive mana. He is also terribly skilled in more advanced mind magics."

The pegasus felt a pit forming in her stomach. "Great. So what's the good news?"

This got another smile out of the human. "Two things. One, just being aware that such magics exist allows you to exhibit a subconscious resistance to them." "Two," and here his smile became far less pleasant, "he is, for good reason, very afraid of me. Here's the plan..."

Jace Beleren adjusted himself in his chair, redipped the quill in his hand, and sighed. If he had known that leading the Infinite Consortium was not something that could just be walked away from, he might have left it in Tezzeret's mismatched hands. Assuming, of course, that such a course of action wouldn't lead to death at the hands of the madman.

Still, reflected the prodigy, he'd made his multiplanar-mercenary-corps-controlling bed, and now he had to sleep in it, even if that meant a disturbingly calm Esperite swearing an everlasting vendetta against him. Or, for that matter, dealing with an onslaught of paperwork that was nearly as bad as the world-consuming monstrosities that had caused it. Wait a second. "Why couldn't I just let everyone think an Eldrazi ate me?"

"I, for one, am glad you didn't, Master Beleren."

Jace looked up. Silurdex, his head archivist (not a secretary, as the vedalken insisted,) had entered his office without his noticing. With yet another stack of paper.

Noting his superior's sorrowful look, the blue-skinned humanoid offered a small but genuine apologetic smile. "More dispatches from Zendikar, I'm afraid."

The human held back an urge to drive his head into the desk. "'Get everything and everyone out of there,' I said. Why is that so hard?"

Detecting rhetorical questions had never been Silurdex's strong suit. "The Consortium has invested heavily in the plane, Sir. We are simply too well established for a quick, clean pullout."

"Fantastic. Anything notable in the latest batch?"

The archivist extracted one sheet from the sheaf. "It would appear that Jwar Isle has been lost."

Jace straightened himself at this. "What, the entire outpost?"

"No, Sir. The entire island."

The mind mage considered this for a moment. "Ah."

"Indeed, Sir. Also—"

The next interplanar memorandum was interrupted by an eagle screech. Both men turned and beheld a griffin hovering just outside the office's large picture window.

Silurdex was largely unflapped. "Shall I have someone shoo it away, Sir?" After a short interval, he turned to the prodigy. "Master Beleren?"

Jace had gone pale. There was something familiar hovering around the creature's mind. Something cold. Sharp. Calculated. A glint of light off of something around the beast's neck confirmed it. Finally, he swallowed a growing lump in his throat and shook his head. "No, I'll deal with this myself."

The vedalken was taken more aback at this than the sudden appearance of a flying chimera. "Are you certain, Sir? You do have many pressing notifications that—"

"Leave, Silurdex. Please."

The not-a-secretry-thank-you-very-much waited just long enough to silently express his disapproval before replying, "As you wish, Master Beleren."

As the archivist turned to leave, Jace added, "Feel free to sign anything unimportant."

"I don't know what you could possibly mean, Sir," came the prim reply. "As I have noted in the past, my ability to flawlessly recreate your signature was developed solely as an intellectual exercise."

The planeswalker smiled. Vedalken humor might be drier than the average active volcano, but he'd learned how to recognize it. "Of course."

"I will be at my desk should you need me, Sir." With that, Silurdex closed the door.

Jace turned back to the window. "Alright, let's see what you want." A bit of telekinesis applied at the proper points brought the windows swinging inward. The griffin flapped its way in, and the young man was able to see that his suspicions were correct. The hybrid creature did indeed have an etherium device hanging from its throat. It bowed its head, allowing the bauble to fall to the ground along with the cord to which it was tied.

The mage sighed. "Wonderful. Just wonderful." He knelt to pick up the artifact, only to leap back as it began to shake ominously. With a thought, he was encased in a translucent array of magical barriers, ready to return message and messenger alike to sender. The griffin simply looked at him. Jace got the distinct impression that it was trying not to laugh.

The capsule, meanwhile, popped open and hissed out a stream of smoke. Keeping his distance, the man watched as the vapor neither spread not dissipated, instead settling in a ring around the device. The gas then fixed itself into a circle of glowing runes. Once complete, the sigils brought their light together, forming from it a distressingly familiar figure.

"Hello, Jace."

"Hello, Tezzeret."

The illusory artificer seemed as amused as his courier. Jace guessed that the man had anticipated his overreaction to the thing's activation. "I'm sure you're wondering why I've chosen to contact you," continued the image.

"The thought crossed my mind, yes."

"Two reasons, really. One is to remind you that I've still got my eye on you."

The mind mage focused on keeping his breathing even. "And two?"

"Two is a favor I'd like to ask of you."

Jace sputtered for a moment. "A favor? Seriously? Why should I do anything for you?"

That damnable grin just got bigger. "It's all quite logical. You see, if you decline, then you must be feeling awfully confident. If you're feeling confident, it is highly probable that you are happy. And we both know what will happen when you're happy." The projection allowed this to stew for a moment before adding, "If it helps, think of it as a Consortium commission. I won't even ask for an employee discount."

Jace gritted his teeth for a moment before resigning himself. No viable alternative, really. "Fine. What do you want?"

"Firstly, you should know that this was all prerecorded, so you can stop talking to the courier capsule. And yes, you are that predictable. Usually. Secondly, the favor is actually for a friend, and to preempt your comment, yes, I do have a few friends. I used to wonder what the point could be, but I've had some practical demonstrations since.

"In any case, this specific friend happens to be a new member of our exclusive little community, and as much as I've enjoyed acting as her mentor, I have some rather urgent business that needs attending to as per draconic fiat. As such, I request that you aid her in perfecting a few spells that will prove essential as she travels the Multiverse. Mostly illusions and such, nothing terribly complicated or beyond your abilities.

"In exchange for this service, you will have a reprieve from the ever present threat of my retribution. At what point that reprieve will expire is, of course, not something I am going to tell you, now or then. I also haven't shared it with your client, so don't bother trying to dig it out of her memory. On a related note, should I contact her after a reasonable length of time only to find that you have not performed as I have asked, or that her mind has been tampered with in any way beyond mundane learning, I will not be pleased.

The image nodded to itself. "Well, that should be everything. Oh, and don't think you're getting free etherium out of this." With that, the runes, image, and capsule all vanished in a column of blue smoke.

For a brief time, Jace said nothing, silently fuming as contemplated the sorts of indignities to which he'd subject Tezzeret the next time he got his mental hands on the Esperite's brain. Finally, he let out a breath he didn't recall holding, then noted the griffin. "What are you still doing here?"

He thought the question was rhetorical. The griffin didn't. "Well, I'm expecting some magic lessons."

"You can talk!?"

There was that "trying not to laugh" look again. "Pretty sure we just established that."

The mind mage coughed into his fist. "Er, right.Sorry, I've never met an intelligent griffin before."

"Neither have I." Ditzy dropped the illusion. "Only one I ever met was as dim as a thunderhead and half as friendly." She smiled and extended a forehoof. "Hi. I'm Ditzy Doo."

After a beat, she opened her eyes. Jace Beleren, psychomancer prodigy, mind sculptor extraordinaire, and leader of the Infinite Consortium, had fainted. The pegasus gulped. "Maybe I should get Mister Silurdex..."

"Whoa there, Paul!" Applejack was employing all of her wrangling expertise in trying to calm the enormous apple. Unfortunately, under the current circumstances, she couldn't do much beyond shout. "Consarn it, Ah said 'whoa!'"

Pinkie winced as she heard one of the elemental's treelike legs crush a house. "I don' think he's listening, Applejack."

The freckled pony glared at her friend. "Well Ah don't see you doin' much t' help! What'd that loony friend o' yers do, anyhow?"

Once Pinkie had disembarked, she largely left Screwball to "her" own devices. (The feminine pronoun will be used, as English lacks a suitable one for a being whose gender identity is "purple monkey dishwasher".) Having had plenty of experience with avatars of discord, the beanie-propelled equinoid's summoner had given her only the vaguest of directions: Since you're going to sow chaos anyway, at least make it chaos that doesn't actively conflict with our goals.

Bearing this in mind, for lack of a better term, the scion of disharmony positioned herself just underneath the honesty elemental's monolithic eye, hovering before a veritable cliffside of fruit. Cracking her nonexistent knuckles, Screwball drew back a forehoof and glared at the ruby expanse before her. "Aaaah-tatata-tatatata-tatatata-tatatata-tata-wah TA!"

As she let out the battle cry, she delivered a furious flurry of blows along the titan's surface, striking specific pressure points that may or may be present in plants. With the "wah TA!", she applied a roundhouse kick that would make Chuck Norris proud. Once the assault was complete, she solemnly pronounced, "You are already pie."

The flesh beneath the crimson skin began to shift and roil, folded, spindled, and mutilated chakras beginning to tear themselves apart in a spiraling cycle of spiritual self-destruction. Unfortunately, those chakras quickly remembered that this was not a musclebound postapocalyptic henchman, but a physical manifestation of truth and vitality. As such, they settled back down, assuming that they were ever there in the first place.

"C-c-c-combo breaker!" exclaimed Screwball, who was as astonished as plaid is crunchy. She then heard a noise that lay somewhere between "growl", "groan", and "exploding subwoofer". The purple pony-thing looked up.

An eye the size of a train car glared back.

The avatar offered a nervous chuckle, an uncertain wave, and a friendly "Portzbie" before fleeing for her continued corporeality.

"That's not important right now," answered Pinkie Pie. "What is is that you're right. I need to help stop this thing." With that, she closed her eyes and drew on memories older than Equestria.

Applejack was about to yell at the other earth pony for napping on the job when the air above the meditating mare began to ripple as if superheated. As traces of scarlet became visible in the heat shimmer, the farmer risked an, "Uh, Pinkie?"

As if in response, the party pony was consumed in a burst of heatless flame. When the smoke cleared, Pinkie Pie sported batlike wings and a physique like that of Big Macintosh. As the planeswalker flexed the new appendages experimentally, Applejack noted an odd, flickering glow in her friend's eyes. She then corrected herself. Those weren't bat wings. They were dragon wings. "Pinkie?"

"Yeah?" Her open mouth was similarly backlit.

"You, uh..." This had exceeded the level of weirdness that the orange mare could dismiss as "just Pinkie Pie". It was also, she freely admitted, way over her head. "Uh, good luck?"

"Aw, thanks, AJ!" The enchanted pony smiled and blew out a heart-shaped smoke ring, then took off.

Yes, decided Applejack, she definitely owed Ditzy Doo an apology. Everypony had her secrets, and as she was rapidly realizing, not all of them needed to be brought to light.

Swoosh! Pinkie Pie, having swathed herself in the smoldering, sulfurous embrace of Shiv, dove into an orbit around the crankypants that was running wild through Ponyville. Well, slowly trudging wild, really. Paul was just too darn huge to move very quickly. Of course, that very same hugeness meant his every single step covered a lot of ground, and possibly somepony's house. Still, given how those steps were causing itty-bitty earthquakes, everypony had enough warning to get away long before they risked getting squished.

Where was I? Oh, right! That delightful dear Pinkie Pie delivering deadly draconic doom to a dreadful danger to darn near everypony! Once a few circles around the naughty's noggin got its attention, it was time for some good old-fashioned fire breath on its backside to get it to turn around and follow her back out of Ponyville. A deep breath and FWOOSH!

...

Uh oh. It doesn't even look singed.

Ahem.

Oh, uh, hi FoME!

Pinkie Pie.

I was just, uh—

Narrating your own exploits?

Um, yeah. You, uh, don't mind, do you?

Oh, not at all, not at all.

Oh, good!

Mind you, talking to me in the middle of a fight doesn't seem like a very good idea.

Huh?

As it turned out, an alicorn's skull possessed greater structural integrity than Ponyville architecture. As Luna magically repaired the hole she'd beaten into the town hall's roof, she vented her frustration verbally instead.

"Stupid lousy ungrateful foals. I should just go back to the moon and refuse to raise it. See how much they all like Tia's pet when it's turning their farms into scorched desert. That'll show them. They thought eternal night was scary? See how bad eternal day is. Then maybe I'll get some real respect and not just frightened lip ser—" The moon princess's rant was interrupted by a rapidly intensifying shout. "Vice?"

As soon as she spotted the growing spot of pink, Luna engaged her magic to stop it. In the time it took for thoughts to go from eye to brain to horn, the object had made it to within an inch of her royal muzzle. Still, when the pony who tells the moon what to do wants something to stop, then stop it shall, and stop it did. It then smiled in recognition. "Hi, Luna!"

"The Element of Laughter." The deity took a moment to put name to draconically enhanced face. "Pinkie Pie, correct?"

The party pony gave a massive delighted grin at being recognized. "Yuparoonie!" Her expression switched to confused. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

The sheer quantity of informality and the audience of one brought Luna to a decision. With a sigh and a slump, she released Pinkie from her magic and herself from royal airs. "It was Tia's idea. 'Go out and see ponies,' she said. 'Ponies think I'm keeping you locked up,' she said."

This was met with surprise. "She isn't?"

"Of course not! Honestly, for a beloved monarch, she seems to have the worst reputation. Molestia this, Trollestia that. And she wonders why I avoid the public eye."

Pinkie giggled. "Oh, nopony really believes that stuff. It's just teasing!"

Luna frowned, confused. "But... but why paint her as some malicious jester or insatiable..." She shuddered, unable to finish the sentence.

Pinkie considered this for a moment. "Well, has she ever played a joke on you?"

The princess thought of the time Celestia had told her that she'd painted the moon a new color when it was really the first lunar eclipse. "On occassion," she conceded.

"And she probably noticed colts before you."

The alicorn began to object, given that no prospective suitors had existed at the appropriate time, but then she remembered the indecent enthusiasm with which her sister had suggested possible places to put erogenous zones on mortal ponies. "Sort of." Wingboners, Tia? Really?

"Well there you go. Nopony's perfect, but teasing doesn't mean you condemn your friends for those faults. It means that you accept them as part of who your friends are, part of the reason why they're your friends in the first place. It's just kind of exaggerated when you're the head cheese. Though I guess you'd be the head cheese, at least if the moon really is made of cheese."

Luna took a moment to parse all of this before letting herself respond. "I'm afraid it's not."

"Aww..."

"Still, thank you, Pinkie Pie."

"For what?"

"It's clear to me that if I'm going to be appreciated by ponies, I can't just sit back and let my title do it for me." Luna stood proudly. "I need to get out there and show everypony just who Princess Luna is. Drag myself out of the history books and back into the mind of Joe Everystallion."

"Alright, Luna!" A realization hit. "Oh, but that wasn't what I meant when I asked what you were doing here."

"What did you mean?"

"Why aren't you helping fight the giant monster?"

The princess frowned. "What giant monster?"

The honesty elemental chose that moment to emit a sound so deep that it was more felt than heard. Luna turned to it. "Oh. That giant monster." She turned back to Pinkie, then blinked. "Did you always have dragon wings?"

The party pony gave a wry grin. "You're not that observant, are you?"

The alicorn offered a shy smile in return. "Not when I'm stewing in my own self-pity, no."

"It's just that we could really use some moon magic. Or action." Pinkie took a moment to consider this. "You aren't going to just throw your tiara at it, are you? 'Cause I don't think that's gonna work."

Luna ran through many possible replies before settling on a simple "No." She continued, "I think I know exactly what to do. Is anypony close to it?"

"Just Applejack."

"The Element of Honesty?"

The poofy-maned pony nodded. "On top of the elemental of honesty."

"You get her off of it. I'll deal with the beast itself."

"How?"

The princess's smile took a turn for the sinister. "I'm going to show it the truth."

The Books and Branches Library had become the epicenter of an unprecedented spike in magical density. The unicorns surrounding the place, including newcomers who were forming a second ring around the first, attested to that. The ambient energy fed into their brains through the secondary nervous structures in their horns, producing a high that would've been declared better than sex had anypony been in any shape to make declarations. As it was, they were all too busy having their minds pleasantly short-circuited to do much beyond stand and luxuriate. Unhorned passersby had assumed there was some new release that was highly anticipated by the unicorn community, at least before they became too busy panicking to notice.

Inside the library, things were a bit different. For one, there was a lot more elbow room, given the sole occupant. For another, the sheer amount of energy was causing some unusual behavior in space and time. The tree was already measurably larger on the inside. Three gates to L-Space had formed in the shelves, as well as one to the Wonka factory. The basement was slowly transmuting into a procedurally generated labyrinth, complete with grues by which unwary wanderers were likely to be eaten. Now and again, an instance of Pinkie Pie from an adjacent timeline opened the bathroom door, excused herself (or himself), and returned to hir own continuity.

And then there was Twilight's bedroom. Her dreams took form in the uncontrolled energies, impossible shapes briefly dancing in the air before being shredded apart by cruel logic and heartless geometry. Other ponies, and stranger things still, peeked out of the other side of the vanity mirror. A spider in one corner quietly wove a textile dissertation that alternated between the essential impermanence of being and the combination of logical necessity and poetic beauty that was consuming one's mate. The topic, like the author's gender, switched with every paragraph.

The bed frame had become semisweet titanium. The mattress had come to life, named itself Zem, and was floopily wurfing its life story as it happened. And beneath ultraviolet-and-octarine houndstooth covers, still somehow asleep despite the events of the morning, Twilight Sparkle glowed.

Generosity, thought Rarity, was a wonderful thing. There were just so much that she was doing which would be impossible without the crystalline incarnation of her Element. Normally, she'd have had to scramble to explain herself to Spike even as the horrible state of the entry hall weighed on her mind. Now, she could leave the dissembling in Trixie's practiced hooves while personally supervising the cleanup. Furthermore, she had only to imagine how she wanted things, and the others saw it as though they had thought of it themselves. No room for miscommunication, no need to physically hover like a mother hen, no stress!

Practical matters were hardly the only ones that Jean helped facilitate. The ivory unicorn could confidently say that she better understood each and every other pony under its auspices than she ever had before. The designer had known that Sweetie Belle admired her, but had never fully appreciated the magnitude of her sister's hero worship until now. Similarly, only now did Rarity know Trixie's full story, and through elemental munificence, the two proceeded through contrition, forgiveness, and friendship at the speed of thought.

The others were somewhat more enigmatic. Whatever anomaly that arose when Dinky Doo was incorporated still persisted to a lesser degree, making the link to her oddly fuzzy. Lyra, on the other hoof, was as clearly connected as anypony else... up to a point. Any attempt to go deeper hit a mental brick wall whose presence not even the sea-green unicorn could explain. According to Jean, it could be breached, but they'd need significantly greater ponypower to do so without some very nasty backlash.

Ah, Jean. The nickname had originally been a play on words that catered to Rarity's Prancophilic tendencies, but it quickly became a term of genuine endearment. Diamonds were a filly's best friend, as the saying went, and the azure entity's abilities had proven that idiom countless times over. From the very moment they had made mental contact, Rarity had felt a unique rapport with the elemental. It only made sense, given her status as the Bearer of Generosity. Still, their relationship had become a curious thing; more than friendship, yet too passionless and collegial to be called romance. In any case, even amidst her other mental multitasking, Rarity maintained a near-continuous running dialogue with the gem in her closet. So why, precisely, are we not welcoming Spike into our little group?

A dragon's mind is a volatile, possessive thing, and well protected besides. Even as young as he has mental defenses superior to the strongest of unicorns. Furthermore, he lacks the convenient back door offered by that unicorn's horn. I cannot reliably predict how he will react to my magic, and after Dinky Doo, I am reluctant to experiment.

Hmm, I see. Shame, he's such a dear. And I can't deny that fire breath has a certain allure. The pony pondered each of her current tasks in turn, then mused, What of Ditzy Doo?

What of her?

Well, surely we're including, aren't we? If nothing else, I want to know when and why she applied that posthypnotic business you told me about.

Rarity could feel the elemental thinking, sensing a few bits of the decision slip in and out of her thoughts in a deft act of telepathic embroidery. Finally, it gave an answer. She will certainly be a useful stepping stone as I master the incorporation of non-unicorns. However, it would definitely be best if it was done with her consent. Even in her current state, she has some of the most formidable psychic defenses I have ever detected.

By sheer coincidence, the showmare-led conversation with Spike had reached a point where Rarity gave a smile. Oh, thought the fashionista, I don't think that will be an issue.

By the time Pinkie Pie had returned to the honesty elemental's crown, Applejack has in the middle of a good hard sulk, all efforts to do anything significant thwarted. When she spotted the party pony, she greeted her with, "Well, Ah hope yer havin' fun, 'cause Ah shore ain't."

The poofy-maned planeswalker's grin didn't falter. "Not to worry, my good Applejack. Your Aunt Pinkie Pie is here to help."

This did little to encourage the farmhoof. "Yer only two weeks older 'n me."

"Stand, please," Pinkie requested, studiously ignoring this point. Once her friend had done so, she closely examined the tether keeping the orange mare secured to the gargantuan. From the vestigial blossom emerged a flexible vinelike growth that grew up to the farmer's diaphragm. From there, woodier growth branched out, wrapping around each shoulder and side, and two neatly skirting her tail. These branches met atop the center of her spine.

The reason for this intense analysis was unclear, since Pinkie had decided on her course of action before she'd even gotten back from the town hall. After a cautionary "Hold still, now," she blew a thin, steady stream of flame over the connecting length of vine. Much to her dismay, it showed little damage beyond a shiny black surface, even after she exhausted her considerable lung capacity.

When the smell hit Applejack's nostrils, she blinked incredulously. "Pinkie, y' ain't tryin' to burn that thing, are ya?"

"Of course!" The living blowtorch frowned. "Shouldn't I?"

The freckled mare shook her head. "Shoot, that shoot's greener 'n Granny Smith on a tilt-a-whirl. Ya might as well try torchin' a soggy lasso."

The pink pyro wilted a bit at this. No fire? That invalidated Plans A through G! She literally spent seconds on those tactical masterpieces! This is why she hated making plans, they never actually saw use. "Well, what should I do?"

Applejack smiled. Finally, something she understood. "Ya don't need no fancy spell. Just use what Celestia gave ya."

Pinkie pondered this for a moment. "Ohh..." Tilting her head, she opened wide and bit down on the growth, then began to pull and twist. A gratifying series of fibrous snaps soon followed, culminating in a final tearing rip and a soft "ptooie!"

"Yeehaw!" The orange mare immediately took advantage of her newfound freedom, springing away from the ragged stump.

Her celebration was cut short by a sudden sensation of lift. "We need to get away ASAP," explained Pinkie, who had somehow managed to slip underneath her friend before taking flight.

"Why's that?" Applejack asked, trying very hard not to think about how much air now stood between her and the ground.

The party pony called forth a modicum of black mana. "Because Paul's about to go..." A pair of sunglasses manifested over her eyes. "Nighty night."

"YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHH—"

Screwball halted the propellor of her suddenly exultant beanie. After removing it and giving it a cursory examination, she shrugged, finding no cause for the sudden burst of enthusiasm. Dismissing it as unimportant, she redonned and restarted her headgear. Gravity politely ignored how this pitstop took place in midair.

Once she resumed her travel, the avatar quickly located her assigned quarry. It wasn't that hard, really. Even against the pastel palette of Ponyville, a giant glowing inchworm tends to stand out.

Diving down to the shiny thing, Screwball spotted the pink-maned rider and came to a disharmonious float that, on average, put her at eye level with Fluttershy. The equinoid doffed her beanie. "Mop the Turing, YouTube!"

The soft-spoken pegasus folded in on herself at the sudden appearance of the stranger, but inoffeniveness outweighed introversion just enough for her to squeak out a "Hi."

It now needs to be said that only four kinds of mages summon avatars of discord: The desperate, the depraved, the insane, and Pinkie Pie, who was a category unto herself. As has been noted, the creatures have difficulty following orders more complicated than "go nuts." Furthermore, they have an unfortunate tendency to append "and the kill them" to any grammatically compatible command and several others besides.

This is why the response to the gentle mare's greeting was, "You have no chance to survive make your time."

By the time Fluttershy had processed this, the purple ponything was halfway through a midair charge. However, the butter-coated pony was a pegasus, and that legacy included reflexes unmatched by other pony subspecies. The sight of a rapidly oncoming object got her body to dart in a different direction while her brain was still parsing the mangled sentence structure. A moment later, her assailant, unable to change her trajectory, struck the kindness elemental instead.

The impact squished Eric's head like a bullet fired into raw dough. It then slowly returned its usual round shape, apparently unperturbed. The overall effect was not unlike a squeezed stress ball.

Meanwhile, Fluttershy tried to reason with the inexplicably hostile pony. "Um, I'm terribly sorry if I've made you angry somehow. Would you like to talk about it? I'm a very good listener."

By this point, Screwball had managed to work her way free of the oddly plush body of the luminous larva. Thus, she was able the respond in the same way anything literally made of chaos would to diplomatic overture. Namely, she tried to headbutt the diplomat.

"Tried" being the operative word. Less than a second before the magic madmare made contact with the cowering caretaker, she smashed against an immovable object that hadn't been there the moment before, her momentum leaving her crumpled like an accordion against the obstacle.

Behind this barricade, Fluttershy risked a peek at her impending doom. To her surprise, the swirly-pupiled perpetrator fell to the ground before her, dazed and foreshortened. The pegasus looked up and gasped in wonder. "Angel Bunny?"

Angel turned and smirked. His pony had every right to be awestruck. Through meditation and runic inscription, he had channeled the white mana buildup around her cottage into a potent enchantment. The carrot into which he carved the runes had merged with his right forepaw, forming a supernaturally sharp and sturdy lance. Vines flowed from the top of the vegetable, twining across the bunny's body, protecting it as they augmented its physical strength. Broad leaves spread from his shoulders, magic allowing flight where aerodynamics would not. A similar gathering formed the shield Screwball had attempted to nut. As a final flourish, a tiny wreath of laurels lay on his head.

Fluttershy took all this in as best she could. "I... How..." She stopped for a moment to gather her wits and shift mental gears to "Pinkie Pie." "Thank you, Angel."

The rabbit gave a proud nod.

"Fritter media sullen lobster mugwump..." contributed Screwball.

The pegasus backed away from her. Angel landed between them and brandished his poleroot.

The avatar shakily got to her feet, shook her head, and considered the two before her. Then she looked back on the kindness elemental, who was gracing them with a content, uncomprehendng smile. She came to a decision. "Wasabi!"

Seeing the odd pony spring at Eric, Fluttershy turned to her companion. "Should we help?"

Angel shrugged. His pony was safe from that aberration, and if he was lucky, it might destroy the wormlike usurper of the Throne of Cute. Or vice versa, though that didn't seem particularly likely.

The Bearer of Kindness furrowed her brow in thought. In another universe, a brony felt his heart spasm. After careful deliberation, Fluttershy came to a decision. "This... thing. It isn't a pony, is it, Angel?"

The rabbit emphatically shook his head. He had more claim to equinity than that fiend.

The butter-coated mare took a deep breath, regret heavy in her next words. "I'm sorry to ask this of you, but could you eliminate it?"

As his answer, Angel flew up to eye level and snapped off a salute with his shield paw. He then sped into the fray.

Well, "fray" was not the most accurate description of what was going on. "Kneading", perhaps, since it seemed to consist of repeated blows into a soft, yielding substance. In any case, Fluttershy still watched, horror and resolve warring in her gaze. "Be careful."

When Pinkie conjured her shades, she did more than make a pop culture reference. The brief flare of dark energy stood out in Luna's senses like somepony shouting her name in an empty field. She smiled. The dragon-winged mare had refused to explain what her signal would be, only that she would know it when it came. So it was.

The princess of the night had kept herself hidden from any wandering steam-engine-sized eyes by keeping herself between the elemental and the sun. Besides obscuring her from detection, this also meant that she didn't need to move in order to perform the spell that she was certain would end the beast. The spell that, with Pinkie's signal, she was now free to cast without worrying about catching anypony in its area of effect.

Her horn glowed midnight blue, then pitch black. Focusing her will, Luna spread her wings to their full span and kept them still. She did not fall, for she obeyed gravity not out of requirement but out of courtesy. Magic flowed up her wings, and the shadow she cast extended outward. What was a tiny zone of shade quickly consumed by her sister's light grew longer and darker. The darkness flowed like a liquid, gaining speed as it lost altitude. By the time it reached ground level, it consumed the honesty elemental before it even noticed. The end effect was of a negative spotlight, a cone of impenetrable black amidst the morning brilliance.

The princess frowned. She could sense that this fluid night was not enough, that the torrent was keeping the giant contained, but little more, and it would not do so forever. Of course, she hadn't expected it to. Another layer of antilight enveloped her horn as she called even more power to bear, guiding it with words whose power she herself had instilled:

"The world is a mote of dust circling a tiny spark, floating in an unfathomably vast ocean of nothingness. Light, life, chaos, all of these are lies. Lies of such miniscule consequence that the universe allows them to seem true. But one day, its patience will run out. The spark will gutter. The mote will freeze. All will be as it truly is: Dark, silent, unchanging. For eternity."

The falling river of black shifted then, changing from pure void to a rich tapestry of celestial lights. It was as thought Luna was attacking the creature with the night sky itself.

Then, one by one, the lights grew red and dim, then went out altogether. Galactic arms atrophied and disintegrated. Nebulae attenuated into invisibility. Slowly, the assault returned to uniform black, yet this was somehow more intense than before. It spoke of hopelessness and pointlessness, entropy and apathy, the decay and death that awaited all things. It was an attitude so wholly alien to the citizens of Ponyville that many of those who witnessed it would suppress the memory in self-defense, unable to describe the event beyond "Princess Luna defeated the giant apple monster with her magic." For that was exactly what happened.

Luna relaxed her wings and her will, and the great sable beam faded, slowly and grudgingly. The shadows had become nearly solid, the light having to burn them away as it would a thick fog. Eventually, the darkness that had cocooned the titan receded, and what was left was laid bare.

The remains of the honesty elemental were not an especially ghastly sight. There is not much one can do in the way of body horror with plants, and this was hardly the most unspeakable application of black magic. Still, the contrast from before was striking. The legs, once wide as ancient oaks, had shrunk to colorless husks that visibly shook even under what little mass the creature still had. The apple head had shriveled and paled into a white wrinkled thing barely larger than a carriage, the eye glassy and thick with cataracts.

The princess came to a graceful landing, pleased with her work, but concerned with the fallout. From her studies, she knew that Equestria had not seen such fell spellcraft in centuries. She'd had to stop the apparition for the sake of the world, but what would be left of the friendships she had only just began to form? Surely everypony would now fear her, she of such dark and terrible power, kept in check only by the grace and charity of her wiser, more beautiful sister...

Luna's brooding was interrupted by Pinkie Pie's rather more dramatic landing, skidding until she bumped into one of the elemental's desiccated legs. From that contact came innumerable snapping sounds as the body crumbled, followed by a shower of ash. Thankfully, much of the stuff faded to nothing before it hit the ground, but enough survived to at least briefly cover the ponies up to their flanks.

"Well," said Luna, light-hearted as she dared, "I think that went rather well."

"Yer Highness?"

The alicorn turned to the farmer pony, who was currently struggling to get off of her friend. Maybe, just maybe, if she didn't mention it, nopony else would. "Applejack, without you and your friends I would still be a raving madmare intent on forcing my night on everypony at the cost of the entire world's well-being. If that does not entitle you to speak to me without titles and blandishment, I do not know what does."

Pinkie finally sat down, allowing the freckled mare to get her hooves on the ground. Applejack tottered a few steps before collapsing onto the wonderfully solid earth before replying, "Anythin' y' say, Pri— uh, Luna." She waited a moment to confirm that her stomach settled before continuing. "Just remind me t' stay on yer good side. Dunno what y' did t' Paul, but it worked better 'n apple cores on a stubborn hog."

"Yeah!" chimed the party pony, now bouncing with enthusiasm. "I've seem a lot of doom spells in my time, but that was the coolest, doomiest one since... well, since ever!"

Luna was astonished. "Really? You're not afraid?"

Appejack quirked an eyebrow. "Shoot, 'course Ah was afraid. Show me a pony who says 'e ain't afraid o' that, an' I'll show ya the filthiest liar this side o' Appleoosa." The farmhoof saw the hurt this brought to the princess, and preempted any spoken angst. "But that don't mean Ah'm scared o' you, Luna. Y' did whatchya had t' do so that bad apple didn't wreck th' town! Yer a hero!"

"A... a hero?" This prompted the biggest smile the alicorn had given outside of a library or insanity in the past thousand years.

"Yeah!" affirmed Pinkie. "And after we take out the other nasties, we're throwing you the biggest hero party ever!"

Applejack assumed a thousand-yard stare. "...'Other nasties'?"

Ditzy grudgingly regained consciousness, physical and emotional aches making the prospect of waking up very unappealing. However, her attempts to fall back asleep, or at least pass out again, were akin to someone trying to force a hot-air balloon to descend by jumping up and down on top of it. Still, she could at least keep her eyes closed and stay still.

"Come on, dear, I know you're up."

Or not. The pegasus opened her eyes with a groan and fixed a baleful stare on Rarity. Well, Rarity and a ponnequin in one corner. "Where's Dinky?"

Rarity sighed and shook her head. "Really now, Ditzy, you're beginning to sound like a broken record."

In the space of a heartbeat, the blonde planeswalker went from lying on the floor to standing muzzle-to-muzzle with the fashionista. An odd, distant sensation told Rarity that something was touching the crystal encasing her horn. "Say that again," Ditzy hissed. "Tell me again that my concern for my child is beginning to bore you. Give me an excuse to shatter this gaudy chunk of paste."

The sensation became a lot more odd and a lot less distant. "What are you doing!?"

"Mommy, please stop."

The pegasus did, her attention on her daughter. "Oh, Muffin, what did they do to you?"

Dinky gave the same sad smile she offered before her mother passed out. "Don't worry, Mommy. You'll get to see for yourself real soon."

Ditzy frowned. "Not a chance. This all ends now." Her eyes began to glow with white magic.

The unicorn filly shook her head. "It isn't that simple, Mommy. The crystals are connected to our horns and our brains. Unless they're removed in just the right way, well..."

"We certainly won't come out the better for it," offered Rarity.

"There is one final thing to note."

Ditzy turned the source of this new voice, oddly layered and rich in tones that shouldn't be coming out of a pony's throat. "Trixie?"

The showmare betrayed no emotion whatsoever, her eyes glowing in the same hue as her mane. "Trixie lies deep within the gestalt at the moment. She is embracing the opportunity to escape from herself. The others are helping her with the issues she had simply repressed until now, even as we speak."

"Then who am I speaking to?"

"You know."

The pegasus nodded slowly. "I suspected. The generosity elemental itself."

"Yes. In order for those outside of the gestalt to understand me, I must borrow the voice of somepony within it."

Ditzy could feel her anxiety build. She'd been expecting some massive serpent or squishy thing with too many tentacles, not this calm, erudite being. She'd take the big, dumb monster any day. "What do you want?"

It tilted Trixie's head to the side. "Ultimately? To give myself to all life. To unite everything in a planetary network of shared thought. In as few words as possible: To be generous."

The planeswalker nodded. One good thing to fighting a brilliant mind, if you could keep them talking, eventually they'd tell you everything you'd need to know to defeat them. "And in the shorter term?"

"As you may have noticed, I have only incorporated unicorns into the gestalt. Obviously, my goals cannot be achieved by adding only one subspecies. A pegasus is close enough to give acceptable odds of success while different enough to aid in incorporating more exotic specimens."

"And if I refuse?"

"You will not. Dinky?"

Ditzy's mouth went painfully dry as she watched her daughter walk up to the blue mare. "Yes, Mister Jean?"

The blonde struggled to stay calm enough to stop any nasty reflexes. "What are you going to do?"

"It is simple and logical. You clearly object to your child's presence in the gestalt. If you do not join it, I will remove her from it." Trixie's borrowed face showed emotion for the first time, a severe glower. "I will not, however, do it gently. Her psyche will be irreparably damaged. There is a very good chance that she will be catatonic for the rest of her life. It could prove fatal."

The pegasus was speechless with horror for a time. She heard somepony ask, "How is that generous?" Halfway through the sentence, she realized it was her.

"I am offering you a choice. Whatever happens, you will be the deciding factor."

Under other circumstances, Ditzy would call out the manure inherent to this argument and have a pleasant little argument. However, Dinky's life and mind were on the line. Pedantry was not a luxury she had. She felt tears pooling in her eyes as she looked at her daughter. The filly just smiled.

"I'll do it."

Litany of the Void XBBB
Sorcery
Creatures your opponents control get -X/-X until end of turn.
"The gulf between stars is vast beyond conception, hostile beyond imagination. Those who question Luna's puissance would do well to remember that these depths are her place of power."
—Star Swirl the Bearded, Meditations of Night

Interlude: Copicornia

Before the story continues, the author feels that it is important to explain the physiology of the unicorn horn. For the duration of this interlude, he will cede the narrative to a passage from Commodore Guff's seminal work, The Planeswalker's Guide to Ungula, Vol. I: Equestria and Ponies.

The Unicorn Horn

As has been previously noted, Equestria is a notably magical land in an already notably magical plane. You can't swing a cat* inside its borders without hitting three enchanted objects. Oftentimes, one of them is the cat. Still, even in comparison to this high bar, Ungulan unicorns are quite magical in their own right. As with pegasi, unicorns of Ungula are far removed from the more typical specimens sprinkled throughout the Multiverse. As with all subspecies of Equunculus filia, they are as intelligent as humans, with the full range of possible mental faculties that comparison implies. Indeed, in the unicorns' case, there is a slight weighting towards the smarter end of that bell curve, given the unique physiology of their horns.

Unlike that of the larger, less talkative unicorns you are likely more familiar with, an Ungulan unicorn's horn is less like the rack of an elk and more like the horn of a rhinocerous. However, even this comparison falls flat once you look below the surface, both literally and figuratively. The outermost layer of both is composed of keratin, though the unicorn's tends to grow with a gradual curl to it, resulting in the signature spiral fluting.

Beneath the first layer of superstiff hair protein, it's a much different story. While the rhino just has more keratin, the unicorn has the thaumic cortex, a highly specialized nervous organ designed to create and manipulate magical energies. Despite its name, the cortex recapitulates the structure of the entire brain, including the cerebellum minoris, seat of magical "muscle memory", and the cornic lobe, which carries out the behind-the-scenes complexities of spellcasting much as a human child's brain can nigh-instantaneously perform the calculus needed to anticipate the future position of a ball midflight and thus catch it.

Indeed, the thaumic cortex is so complex, it technically qualifies as a second brain in its own right. While it is normally content to manage magical matters, moments of what has been dubbed "extraconscious activity" have been documented. These episodes usually occur during adolescence, as the still-developing cortex, for lack of a better word, experiments. It is possible that the thaumic cortex's constant exposure to self-generated magical radiation gives it some degree of precognition, as these episodes never prove harmful to the young unicorn, and often point him or her in the direction of his or her special talent**.

As of the last time I checked, no connection has been made between extraconscious activity and the slightly higher tendency in unicorns to develop mental disorders when compared to other pony subspecies, particularly dissociative identity disorder.

*Note: Do not swing cats inside Equestria. Not only should you not swing cats on general principle, their owners are far more capable of caving in your skull than the average villager, and explaining away that kind of thing is always awkward for all involved parties.
**See Cutie Marks, p. 262

Telecornesis 1UU
Tribal Enchantment — Unicorn
Other Unicorns you control have "U, T: Tap or untap another target permanent."
Fingers are overrated.

Odd Ends

"Everything will be fine, Mommy." Between the creepy assuredness and the blank stare, Ditzy couldn't bear to look at her daughter.

Of course, the rest of the studio was no more inviting. Behind her and on either side there stood a full grown unicorn with a wide selection of incapacitating spells on hoof, ready to take her down if she showed the slightest hint of a second thought. In front of her was the generosity elemental.

It has been said that the greatest curse of blue mana is that its users can never stop thinking. For all of the rage and righteousness she'd been channeling lately, Ditzy Doo was a blue mage at heart, and if asked, she would wholeheartedly agree with this sentiment. Even as she prepared to surrender herself to a being whose very existence was harming reality, she couldn't help but wonder how its facets refracted its own magic into a display of color that outshone any mundane damond. She pondered what it would do after the other two subcrystals found foreheads to call their own. Most of all, she hoped that Pinkie and Luna would be willing and able to do what they had to for the sake of Equestria.

Such morbid thoughts were interrupted by the gem impinging on Ditzy's scalp. However, this didn't halt the thought process, but redirected it. The sensation as it phased through her head was strangely cooling, as though her frontal bone was sucking on a peppermint. Then the tip reached brain matter, and suddenly the peppermint had a lemon center. No, not lemon. Pure electricity. Pure energy. Pure mana of thought and cognition hooked up directly into an ever-increasing number of synapses in her brain, filling every crevasse with a billion thoughtsfromabillionmindsandbringinghermindtospeedsthat'dsurelyoverloaditiftheykeptupmuchlongerbefore

Contact.

Rarity smiled. "Welcome to the herd, dear."

That was more difficult than I anticipated, admitted the elemental. There was an unexpected positive feedback loop that nearly—

Lyra frowned. "Nearly what?"

As if in reply, Ditzy's eyes and crystal "horn" burst forth with beacons of blue radiance like a trio of searchlights. The three unicorns tried to call back the spells that had been on the tips of their horns, but were caught in the mental backwash. So too were the fillies. In an instant, the boutique was filled with azure light and silence.

On a psychic level, there was far more activity. At first, there were countless iterations of the same question: "What just happened?" The answer, delivered calmly and with all the background information needed to understand it, was that Ditzy hadn't known how the generosity elemental's abilities functioned. She had willingly opened herself to it, giving it total access to all of her memories and knowledge on the assumption that it would have access to them anyway. In perusing this data, the elemental had inadvertently opened every mana bond formed over the course of the pegasus's planeswalking. The sheer amount of mana and experience flooded out into the entire gestalt, which left them where they were now.

Like the chorus of an ancient Haylennic drama, the unicorns simultaneously asked, "Well, what all did that?"

That answer was for less expository and far more individualized. The responding party, a mix of generosity elemental and planeswalking pegasus with lines blurred beyond recognition, simply opened its mind to the gestalt as a whole. Obviously, years of memory were a bit much for the average pony mind to take in at once. Instead, each mare subconsciously cherry-picked the bits of greatest personal interest.

Rarity admired a thousand designs, creations by races for whom fashion was a necessity rather than a luxury, but no less of an art for it. Sweetie Belle witnessed a thousand activities that the Crusaders had never even known to consider in their quest for their cutie marks. Trixie beheld a thousand charlatans whose lies and comeuppances both made hers pale in comparison. Dinky appreciated a thousand instances of her mommy being awesome. And Lyra saw humans. Humans everywhere.

The highlight reel of the Multiverse drew to a close, as did the sudden surge in mental communion. Ditzy's eyes were still glowing, but not at search-and-rescue intensities. The other ponies were digesting their new insights and inspirations. Jean, meanwhile, was wrestling with a troubling revelation of its own.

Rarity itched for a sketchbook, but she could feel the crystal's apprehension. "What is it, mon petit bijou?"

I should not exist.

"What!?" The ivory unicorn rushed to the gem's side. "Oh, how could you even say that?" The answer was placed directly into her brain. "Oh..." She bit her lip, scrambling for an excuse. "Girls, help me out here!"

Trixie suddenly found the studio's floorboards fascinating. "I didn't know all the details, but I was told the things were threats to the entire world." Her voice began to crack with shame. "It just felt so nice not to have to be Trixie..."

Lyra gave her a nuzzle. "Hey, hey. You've made a lot of growth. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

The showmare sniffled and gave a reluctant nod. "Thank you." A smile began to form, supported by telepathic encouragements. "Thank you all."

The mint-green unicorn gave a pleased look, but it quickly vanished as she focused on the other matter at hoof. "Don't ask me how I know, but the math all checks out. The only way Jean could exist is if some numbers changed that really, really shouldn't change."

Sweetie Belle was distraught. "But, but..." She shook her head furiously. "It can't be true! Mister Jean is too nice to do something so bad!"

I have no wish to destroy this world, confirmed the elemental. Nevertheless, it is taking place, independent of my volition. There is only one logical recourse.

"But you've given us so much!" wailed Rarity.

Yes, and now I give you the greatest gift I could ever hope to: A future. With that, each crystal planted in a pony's forehead crept its way out, returning to orbit around the main body. Through some lingering magic, everypony understood the generosity elemental's final words. Goodbye, my friends. The spinning jewels slowed and came to a stop. All nine became progressively more transparent, color and substance fading until there was nothing left.

Rarity rushed out of the room, seeking the comforting embrace of her fainting couch. Aside from her anguished sobs, a solemn silence filled the room.

Explaining the situation to Applejack was surprisingly simple, at her own insistence. The conversation went something like this:

"Okay, so here's what's going on—"

"Is it magic?"

"Well, duh. Anyway—"

"Don't care."

"Whuh? But—"

"Pinkie, Ah'm flattered that y' think Ah'll understand all th' mumbo-jumbo yer just itchin' t' tell me, but Ah ain't, an' Ah'm purty sure there's better ways we could be spendin' th' time."

"She's got a point," noted Luna.

"Ugh. Fine. Anyway—" Pinkie interrupted herself with a shudder. "Achey hip, loss of balance, ACID REFLUX!" These last two words were belched.

The alicorn raised an eyebrow at the dishelved pile of pony. "What just happened?"

"Pinkie Sense!" exclaimed the farmhoof. She turned to the prone Pinkie. "Wuzzat one mean, anyhow?"

"I think I know where to find the kindness elemental."

"Wait, how many o' these critters d' we still have left t' take care of?"

"Four. No, wait..." Pinkie peered into the distance. "Three. Kindness, loyalty, and magic."

"How kin ya tell?"

"Do you want the truth, or something you can understand?"

Applejack mulled this over for a bit. "...Both?"

"Good answer! Unfortunately, we don't really have time for either right now. Your Highness, could you find Ditzy?"

Luna nodded. "Certainly."

"Great, 'cause we're probably going to need her." The party pony turned to her fellow Bearer. "Applejack, grab my tail."

The orange mare blinked incredulously. "Beg pardon?"

"Grab my tail! The fate of Equestria depends on it!"

"If you say so..." Applejack hesitantly bit the appendage in question, a curious compromise between pink and poofy and scaled and sinuous.

Once she was satisfied with her friend's grip, Pinkie gave a rousing cry of "ADVENTURE!" and took off in a reddish-orange blur.

Luna's eyes saw the duo soar off, but her mind was miles and millennia away. Pinkie's oracular eructation had reminded her of an ancient coven on earth ponies who had sought to refine their connection with the land into a magic as potent as any unicorn's. The Order of the Transient Crust, as they'd called themselves, saw fate as a tectonic process, slow drifts of destiny reshaping the world, the occasional cataclysm coming with clashes of fate. The greatest among them resonated with the glacial motion of predestination, shaking in sympathy with momentous shocks that travelled backward through the temporal strata. Stories spoke of those who could feel the slightest shift in what would be, forming an odd language of lesser tics that could prognosticate the life-changing and inane with equal likelihood. But the last of the Order had died more than 1,400 years ago... hadn't she?

The princess of night shook herself from her ruminations. This was neither the time nor the place. She made for the building from which she'd sensed a burst of arcane energy not long ago. Even if it didn't hold any of her allies, whoever had caused it could prove an invaluable asset.

The library of Commodore Guff was something like a Library of Congress for the Multiverse, holding a copy of every written work in existence. Of course, being the creation of an eccentric planeswalker (as worrisome a phrase as "insane sphinx"), it was rather more ambitious than that, also containing every work that would be written, was being written, might have been written, and every other tense besides. This meant that, among other things, it had an outstanding selection of Equestrian children's literature.

Pinkie Pie was taking advantage of this fact when a twitch played over her body. Ear flop, eye flutter, sneeze... Once she recovered, she pulled up the notes she'd been keeping on the actions. A wistful smile came to the filly's face as she remembered when her mother had first explained the family's unique gift, but a thrilled gasp chased it away when she found the appropriate entry. The young pony looked in every direction, settled on one that didn't seem especially important, and called, "Mister Guff! Mister Guff!"

The Commodore materialized next to her, having accepted that getting a proper title out of Pinkie was pretty definitely not going to happen. "Yes?"

The eager foal was shaking with excitement, clearly trying to restrain herself from bursting into a bouncing frenzy. She pointed in the not-especially important direction and asked, "Now?"

The bearded planeswalker adjusted his spectacles and peered along the indicated path. After a moment, he nodded to himself. "Yes, indeed. Well done, Pinkie."

"Woohoo!" The filly turned back to where she pointed and gave a wave. "Hello!"

"Now, now," chided Guff, "best to be coy about this sort of thing, dear. Don't want to frighten them off." He paused, a stray thought calling his attention. "Of course, if they've made it this far, they should be used to this sort of thing." He shook his head. "Nevertheless, you need to strike a balance. You shouldn't just pretend that they're not there, but be a bit subtle about it."

Pinkie nodded with all the severity of youth. "Subtle. Right. Can do." She gave a proud grin at the 'walker, but her eyes kept straying towards whatever made that direction unlike all other directions.

The Commodore smiled himself and ruffled her mane. "Don't worry, it comes with practice."

The somber atmosphere lingered for a few minutes. Then a loud thump managed to chase each pony out of her head and back into reality. The unicorns realized that the sound had been Ditzy falling over. One in particular found this realization most distressing. "Mommy, are you okay?"

The pegasus slowly blinked her way back to awareness. "Ugh... feels like I just delivered ten years worth of Hearth's Warming cards..." Dinky had nothing to say to this, simply nuzzling her mother, who gladly reciprocated. "Thanks, Muffin."

"Er..." For once, Trixie found herself the center of attention without enjoying it. "I just wanted to be clear on something." Nopony seemed to object, so she pressed on. "What exactly happened?"

Ditzy gave a bemused grin. "Well, I didn't know how the elemental functioned, so—"

"No, no, that much I got. But what was all that..." She gave a vague hoof gesture, trying to encompass the multidimensional rogue's gallery she'd borne witness to. "That?"

"Oh." Clearly, something managed to be communicated. "Those were memories."

"Yours?" This got a nod. "But... how?"

The pegasus smiled uneasily. "It's... complicated."

"And classified." Everypony looked at Lyra, who seemed much more composed than she was a few minutes ago.

"'Classified'?" Some trace of arrogance fed back into Trixie's voice. "By whose authority?"

The sea-green unicorn was not impressed. The glare she shot at the showmare would've done credit to any member of the Royal Guard. "The Princesses. I trust that that is acceptable?"

"Actually," replied the other mare, ego continuing to resurge, "considering that I am the Royal Librarian of the night shift and the favored pupil of Princess Luna, I'm not sure it is."

By this point, the two began circling one another. Neither horn was lit, but the clash of egos made as heavy an atmosphere as ambient mana had not long ago. "Royal Librarian, you say?" Lyra seemed no more impressed than before.

Trixie tossed her mane. "That's right."

"Security clearance level?"

The blue unicorn almost missed a step at this. Almost. "Prince."

The golden-eyed mare nodded at this and stopped her procession. "I see. I'm sorry, but I cannot allow the dissemination of this information to anypony of less than Luna-level clearance."

"Can you dismemanate why you're being a jerk?"

"Dinky!"

"Well she is!"

Ditzy resisted the urge to facehoof. "Sorry... Lyra, right?" 5 Starting Lane, Ponyville, added her memory.

The other mare gave a smirk. "Really, after the psychic backwash, I'd think you knew everything from my middle name to my shoe size."

The pegasus wing-shrugged. "I'm guessing that you didn't get a complete copy of my memories. What do you think the odds are that I got total recall for five different ponies?"

Lyra nodded. "Fair point. As for Dinky's question, well, as you may have guessed, I'm in the intelligence business."

"You're a spy?" asked the suddenly awestruck filly.

"No, not a spy. Not normally, anyway." She sighed and turned back to Ditzy. "You know, any other time, I'd punch you in the muzzle and make you deal with the paperwork, but if these aren't extenuating circumstances, I don't know what are."

"Excuse me?"

Lyra pressed on. "Of course, if this were any other time, I wouldn't even be involved."

Ditzy frowned. "What are you talking about?"

This got a shake of the head. "Like I said: Classified. I've already told you too much as it is." She sighed again. "This really isn't my department."

"Are you usually this cryptic, or did I catch you on a bad day?"

"A little of both. Part of it's the posthypnotics. My job's so secret, even I don't know about it." She shrugged. "Suffice to say, if and when this situation blows over, expect a visit from the ETSAB."

"The what?"

"You'll see. If you'll excuse me." She walked out of the room before Ditzy could refuse to excuse.

"What's an etsab?" asked Dinky.

"I have no idea, Muffin." Ditzy looked to Trixie. "Do you know anything about this?"

The showmare shook her head. "Your guess is as good as mine."

Lyra walked out of the Boutique, concerns that had been hypnotically buried making themselves known all too well. So distracted by the numerous ways things were going wrong, she very nearly didn't register the alicorn approaching the shop. When she did, she only spared enough thought for a nod and a "Your Highness."

After a moment, Luna smiled and returned the nod. "Agent Heartstrings. What brings you here?"

"Can't talk. Time shenanigans."

The princess frowned. "What about—"

The unicorn only now stopped, and that was because she felt she should finish small talk with royalty before moving out of view. "Both on missions. Defaulted to me. Lots to do. Really need to get going."

"Ah. Don't let me stop—" Lyra had already cantered off. "you."

The device was as Sweetie had left it earlier that morning, a seemingly random assembly of items that nonetheless managed to convey a sense of purpose and potential. Still, its inventor frowned and examined it as though seeing it for the first time. "It's weird," mused the filly. "I remember knowing exactly what to do when I was making it, but not how. Or why." She turned to Ditzy with an expression of concern. "Is that weird?"

The pegasus shook her head. "That's blue magic in action. You get the answers, but not how you got them."

"Like looking at the answers in the back of the book?"

Ditzy nodded. "Exactly. One way or another, most blue spells are a form of cheating." She began to circle the assembly, following the faint lines of inactive mana pathways.

Sweetie realized her tactical error. "I don't do that, of course!"

"Uh-huh..." Ruby, sapphire, emerald...

"And Scootaloo doesn't either!"

"Right." Jet, pearl, diamond...

"And she definitely didn't tell me about them!"

"That's nice." Opal in the middle, and on top... an empty socket? That wasn't quite right. Ditzy grinned. A wave of a hoof, and a delicate bit of dark violet fluttered onto the chrome fixture.

This bit of prestidigitation was enough to interrupt Sweetie Belle's string of incriminatingly specific denials. "What's that?"

"The component you didn't know you needed." With that, the blonde flipped the switch.

The air around the contraption sizzled. The gemstones glowed from within. Something not unlike a heat shimmer formed around the top as the lotus petal crumbled to ash. The sizzle intensified to something between radio static and popping bubble wrap. The color seemed to explode out of the gemstones one by one, leaving cracked, burnt-out husks. Finally, the opal actually did explode, along with the entire device. Chunks were sent flying across the room. Whether by luck or design, nopony was harmed, and only one piece of shrapnel even touched an onlooker; the empty socket, which landed atop Sweetie's head. With an oddly cheery "ding!", a small lump of crystal sprouted from the widget.

The filly took the end product in hoof and frowned at it. "Well that didn't work. So much for my mad science cutie mark."

"Oh I don't know," Ditzy said with a knowing smile. "Give that a little time and it may surprise you."

The young unicorn cast a doubtful look on the rough jewel, barely the size of a wild strawberry. "Well, if you say so..."

"I do." The pegasus gave a start as inspiration struck. "Hey, could you do me one more favor, Sweetie?"

The curly-maned foal nodded eagerly. As far as she was concerned, she'd probably never pay back the mailmare in full.

"Great. Here's what I need..."

Sweetie Belle approached her sister's room cautiously, the older unicorn's sobs echoing down the hall. Her first knock didn't break the melodrama, so she delivered a more vigorous assault on the door.

That did it. "Go away! I want to be alone! I vant to be alone!"

"But you have a commission!"

"I don't deserve a commission! I am filth! Scum! Dross!"

"But the fate of the world depends on it!"

"I'm not worthy of saving the world! I am everything a pony should not be! Equestria ill needs a savior such as I!"

Sweetie sighed. This was far from the first such episode, but it was easily among Rarity's worst. Fortunately, she had a trump card. "Miss Ditzy said she only wants one gemstone!"

This triggered a silence as intense as the sobs before it. Finally, a slow, carefully measured voice came from the other side of the door. "She said what?"

The filly gave a smug smirk. She'd known this would work. "Yup, just the one. Awfully puny little thing, too. It's a good thing she wanted a necklace, or you'd never even know it was there."

"..."

The silence grew ominous and oppressive. Sweetie began to worry. Maybe she'd laid it on a bit too thick? "Sis?"

The door to the boudoir flew open. Rarity strode out, clad in resolve and her designing glasses. "Where is this inconsequential little crystal?" She didn't bother waiting for a response, spotting it in her sister's hoof. The fashionista magically snatched it with a sniff of disdain, then made for her studio. "I shall bring this pathetic trinket to its full, fabulous potential. For Ditzy! For Equestria! For Fashion!"

Sweetie Belle smiled, then glanced at her flank. Nope, no manipulation cutie mark. Oh well. Ditzy might not have asked more of her, but she still had more to do.

As each sister trotted off to fulfill her self-appointed mission, the jewel imperceptibly began to swell.

Apple Bloom knew she was truly desperate for her cutie mark when she asked Granny Smith for help. Oh, the old green mare was nice, no doubt about that, but she just wasn't quite all there anymore.

Of course, the filly had thought that before she learned that the Apple matriarch had a tried and tested method for discovering a pony's special talent. Thus did the two find themselves in the farmhouse kitchen with enough ingredients for virtually every apple-based treat imaginable. Granny gave the supplies a final once-over, followed by a satisfied nod. "Ah reckon that oughtta do it. Y' know what t' do, Smelly Belly?"

The younger pony frowned, hesitant. "Ah think so..."

Her grandmother tsked. "Thinkin's bin yer problem this whole time. Y' shoulda come t' me first thing. Ah've helped more 'n a dozen o' yer aunts, uncles, an' cousins unblank their flanks. Even yer own father, Princess rest his damn fool soul."

"Granny!"

"Aw, it's just us Apples, an' Ah'm older 'n dirt anyhow. Ah've earned the right t' cuss now an' again." She nodded toward the arrayed foodstuffs. "Enough jawin'. Y' got enough there t' make just about every recipe Ah know. Follow yer instincts an ye'll have yer cutie mark faster' 'n ya kin say 'Chancellor Puddin'head.' If y' need somethin' what ain't there, jus' holler an' Ah'll get it to ya."

Apple Bloom forced a smile. "Oh... great."

This coaxed a cackle out of Granny Smith. "Oh, Ah know what yer thinkin'. 'That Granny o' mine'll take forever an' a day t' fetch somethin'.'"

"No, no!"

The old mare ruffled her granddaughter's mane. "Yer a nice filly, Prickly Pear, but y' cain't lie any better 'n yer sister. Now don't y' worry none. When Ah say Ah'll get it, what Ah mean is Ah'll get Big Macintosh t' get it 'less'n 'e wants t' explain t' 'is baby sister why 'e's too busy t' fetch 'er some fancy vittles."

The filly pouted. "Ah ain't no baby!"

Granny smiled knowingly. "Bloom, Ah'm the youngest o' three. T' this day, both o' mah brothers still think o' me as th' baby."

"But yer older 'n dirt!" blurted Apple Bloom.

"An' they're older still. Now, didja wanna gossip with yer Granny, or didja wanna getcher cutie mark?"

The red-maned filly gave a determined grin. "Right!"

Of course, that was when the doorbell rang. Granny Smith sighed. "You git yerself started, Half-Pint. Ah'll go see who it is."

"Okay." As the elder mare arthritically made for the front door, the filly focused on the task before her. Then she hastily backpedaled. Focus was what she'd been doing wrong. According to Granny, her special talent hid in some combination of the items before her. She just had to do what felt right.

For a short while, she simply stood still, clearing her mind as during the abortive attempt to become Cutie Mark Crusader Bodhisattvas. Then, she opened a bag of flour and measured out two generous cups into a bowl, followed by a cup of salt. As she got a cup of water from the faucet, some part of her marveled at how her actions seemed automatic, no conscious thought required. Her body simply knew what it was doing, and Little Miss Fancy Pants up in her penthouse apartment in the skull was finally stepping back and letting it.

"Apple Bloom."

She began to stir in the water, a delicate arrangement of hooves, mouth, cup, and spoon. Once the fluid was all added, she kept going, grinning as she felt the mixture begin to exert resistance.

"Apple Bloom?"

Once her jaw began to ache, she extracted the spoon from the doughy paste, then set it down. She turned back to the bowl, but something had gotten in the way. She tried to reach around it, but it twisted to keep blocking her. The pony snorted in frustration. The pieces were coming together. She could feel the tingling on her flanks. How dare this obstruction stand between her and her destiny?

Oh well. Not like she couldn't fix this.

"Apple Bloom!"

"Huh?" The youngest Apple blinked a few times as her conscious mind eased back into the driver's seat. Then she noticed that she was poised to buck, all of her weight on her front hooves. This position, she quickly realized, was highly unstable, and she was about to fall on her rump. Then she did.

She then became aware of a hoof on her forehead and determined its owner. "Ah don't have a fever, Sweetie Belle."

The unicorn withdrew her foreleg. "Just making sure you were you."

"Well who else would Ah be? And when didja git here, anyhow?"

"Your Granny let me in a couple minutes ago. She said it wouldn't make any difference, 'cause you were 'in the zone'."

"Well Ah didn't expect ya t' holler like the nags o' Nightmare were after ya!" Granny Smith tottered into the kitchen. "Land's sakes, child, they heard that one out in Appleoosa!"

Sweetie scratched at the floorboards. "Sorry I got in your way, Apple Bloom."

The earth filly stopped her friend's moping with a hug. "Nothin' t' worry 'bout. Ah don't want nothin' t' do with no cutie mark what'd make me buck one o' mah best friends in th' face."

"You'da done that t' anypony, Bloom," noted her grandmother.

The young unicorn gasped in horror. "That's horrible."

"Naw, that's just earth ponies," Granny shot back. "When Ah was makin' a pie fer th' first time, Ah trampled both o' my brothers an' did'n' even notice 'til th' dang thing was in the oven." The old mare gave a wicked grin. "Still like t' remind 'em they got licked by a filly half their size now an' again. Keeps 'em in check."

By this point, Sweetie Belle was looking from Apple to Apple with mounting nervousness. Seeing this, Apple Bloom quickly asked, "So why'dja come over, anyhow?"

"Oh, right!" The panic drained out of the unicorn, replaced with pride and purpose. "We're gonna be Cutie Mark Crusader World Savers!"

"World Savers!?" The red-maned filly was practically bouncing with excitement. "How, how?"

"First, we need to find Scootaloo."

Apple Bloom nodded. "Well o' course. Cain't be proper Cutie Mark Crusader World Savers 'less'n all three of us 're savin' it. C'mon!"

As the two fillies raced out of the house, Granny Smith shook her head and smiled. Ah, youth. Then she sampled the dough her granddaughter had been working on and frowned perplexedly. "What on Celestia's green earth?"

Scootaloo was having the time of her life. How could she not? She was flying with Rainbow Dash! Okay, technically she wasn't flying under her own power, and maybe Dash wasn't participating in an entirely voluntary sense, but still! Flying! With Rainbow Dash!

Besides, Scoot had perfect control over her flight. Her bond with the loyalty elemental was so close and on such a fundamental level, the living cloud was like an extension of her own body. The manepin turns, the high-G corkscrews, the death-defying dives, it was all just like she'd imagined!

It was all just too exciting. The filly had to shout something. "Hey Dash, I—" She cut herself off. "Where is she?"

Something nudged the elemental in the back. It spun, crackling with energy, but Scootaloo calmed it down with a few judicious head pats. "Hay now, it's okay." The orange foal turned towards the newcomer. "Sorry, my friend here kinda has a hair..." She trailed off as the situation finally registered in her mana-addled brain. "Trigger?"

The duo had apparently bumped into a cloud. Not a living haze of passion and trust, but a puff of water vapor of the sort Cloudsdale cranked out by the dozens. Nonplussed, the young pegasus shrugged. "Huh. That was weird. Well, let's go find Dash."

The elemental gave a thunderous agreement, and the two stormed off. Meanwhile, the cloud supressed a giggle. Who would've thought a fillyhood guilty pleasure would throw stalkers off her trail? She'd have to remember this once she got into the Wonderbolts. Darn ponyrazzi.

Still, for now, Dash could relax. She guided her disguise in a different direction than the one her devotees had taken. Whether through whimsy or exhausted confusion, she whispered, "Beep beep, I'm a cloud."

The clash over the kindness elemental was a study in contrasts. Angel Bunny fought conservatively, relying on agility, resilience, and judicious, prudent thrusts of his lance. Screwball, meanwhile, was a dervish of flailing limbs, flagrant non sequitur, and the sort of maneuvers that would be expected from an overcaffeinated hummingbird. The glowing grub contentedly watched the battle, incapable of understanding either party's hostility (or, indeed, hostility at all.)

Fluttershy wasn't so lucky. She loathed conflict, yet was silently berating herself for asking the rabbit who was almost a son to her to fight in her place. It was always like this. She knew that nature wasn't always cute and cuddly, much as she wished otherwise, and Angel had always been the one upon whom she foisted the duties she simply couldn't bear to do herself. She supposed it wasn't that often, and she could at least hypothetically manage in a pinch, but more often than not, it was Angel to her rescue. Now he was even putting his life on the line simply because she didn't have the stomach to get her own hooves dirty.

No. This would not stand. She was a strong, independent pegasus, and she would assert herself. She would take control of this situation. For Angel's sake. For Eric's sake. For her own sake. She felt the Stare itching to crease itself across her face. The voice of undeniable authority welled in her breast. She took a firm, decisive step towards the fray and—

"Fluttershy! Oh, thank Celestia yer alright!"

Promptly recieved a Pinkie Pie-grade tacklehug from Applejack of all ponies. Biting back a disappointed sigh, the pink-maned mare answered, "Of course I am. It's Angel I'm worried about."

"Angel? Well, where is th' li'l rascal?"

The look Fluttershy gave to this spoke so many volumes, it could've easily contained the complete adventures of Fetlock Holmes. Not trusting her tongue, she simply pointed.

The farmhoof looked and took several seconds to take in the scene before her. "Ah'm guessin' he ain't that big ol' worm."

The pegasus nodded. "He also isn't that strange, horrible, pony-shaped creature."

"Jus' b'tween you an' me, sugarcube, Ah'd watch what Ah'd say 'bout that there pony-shaped creature. Ah dunno th' details, but she's Pinkie's friend."

"Oh. Well, I'm sure she has a lovely personality for an affront to all that should be."

Applejack raised an eyebrow at this. "Uh, Shy? Y' sure yer feelin' okay?"

"I'm fine, really." She glanced at Screwball again, then gasped in horror.

"What is i— Oh, mah stars..."

The pink and purple pony lay impaled before them, Angel's lance emerging from her chest. The runes chewed into the carrot emitted a brilliant radiance that was visibly eating away at the thing of chaos. She looked at the stunned ponies and gave a sad smile. "Hello, Superman. Hello."

With that, she vanished.

Archangel Bunny 4GW
Legendary Creature — Angel Rabbit
Flying, first strike, trample
(gw): Target Pony, Pegasus, or Unicorn is indestructible this turn.
Bunnies don't fear the reaper.
4/4

Rejoin Forces

"Trixie?" Ditzy entered the Boutique's foyer and moved to the moping showmare's side. "You okay?"

The unicorn sighed. "Okay? I haven't been 'okay' since I tried to single-hoofedly take down a rogue constellation." She smiled reluctantly. "But I admit, I am doing better."

"Feeling up to saving the world?"

Trixie laughed at the absurdity. "I don't know if I'm up to saving myself." She looked at the pegasus with a strange blend of wonder, confusion and loathing. "Why are you even bothering with me? I must seem like another has-been blowhard to you."

"Anything but." Ditzy nudged the other mare's temple. "We've been in each other's heads. You can't just dismiss that kind of connection. Besides—" She realized where her thoughts were leading her and stopped voicing them.

The abrupt halt didn't escape the performer's notice. "Besides?"

The blonde impressively avoided eye contact. "Nothing. Slip of the tongue."

Nopony got a magic-oriented cutie mark without a degree of curiosity that at least bordered on the unhealthy. "Oh, come on. It's hardly fair if I'm the only one airing out her dirty laundry."

Ditzy absently scratched at the floorboards. "Well, it's just that you kind of remind me of Dinky's father."

"Oh?"

Grey-haired cheeks waxed rosy. "Not like that! I mean, you're a lovely mare, but I—"

Trixie shook with barely restrained laughter. "Nopony's calling you a filly fooler, Ditzy. What was he like?"

The blush faded as the pegasus turned wistful. "Proud. Driven. Stubborn as any two mules you'd care to name."

The unicorn adopted a similarly distant look. "Purple unicorn? Question-mark-in-a-postmark cutie mark?"

"H-how did you?"

"As you said, we've been in each other's heads. He featured rather prominently in those few bits that weren't about liars and cheats."

A chill played down Ditzy's spine. "So you saw—?"

A nod. "I'm sorry. It sounds terribly inadequate, but I am."

"I've... come to terms with it. It was a long time ago."

Countless hours spent before mirrors helped the showpony identify the signs of restrained grief. "But you still miss him." This got a sniffling nod in response. "Would you like a hug?" Another nod.

Thus, when Luna entered the shop, she saw her two lieutenants in a tearful embrace. "I do hope I'm not interrupting anything."

The ponies flew apart. "Y-your Highness!" Trixie half-shrieked. "How long have You been there?"

"I just came in." As the co-commiserators gave sighs of relief, the princess's gaze turned to the dorrway that led into the kitchen. "How about you, Dinky?"

As the mares tensed anew, the filly, subdued, moved into view. "I was there the whole time. Sorry, Mommy. Sorry, Miss Trixie."

The other unicorn coughed in a belated attempt to affect nonchalance. "No harm done. Right, Ditzy?"

The mailmare nodded her agreement. "You didn't do anything wrong, Muffin."

"Well," Luna said stridently, "if we're all clear of guilt and awkwardness, there's another elemental to stop."

"Where?" cried Trixie.

The night princess began to answer, then stumbled upon an unpleasant obstacle. "I don't know. Pinkie Pie detected it... somehow, and she never gave the specifics."

"I think I've found it." Ditzy's eyes were faintly aglow with blue light.

"And how do you know?" asked the alicorn, silently wondering at the peculiarly perspicacious powers of Ponyvillians.

"I made probes to find each of the elementals shortly after you brought us here. In fact..." A moment's thought, and one of the blue-and-gold spheres drifted into view. Its summoner turned to it and had a wry grin. "There you are. Where were you during that whole hostage situation?"

The magical orb refocused on her. It bobbed up and down, as if to ask, "And what could I have done?"

"Point," Ditzy conceded. "In any case, I checked with the others, and one has found something suspicious. Pinkie's creature is near it, so that supports the theory."

Princess and student looked at one another, then at the pegasus. As one, they repeated, "'Pinkie's creature'?"

"Yeah. Apparently she's also a spellcaster." The planeswalker wing-shrugged.

Luna disbelievingly shook her head. "At this rate, my sister's academy is going to be accused of unfair discrimination. Still, that is neither here nor there. We must make haste. Ditzy Doo, lead the way."

"Of course, Your Majesty."

"Go without me," said Trixie.

The mailmare was incredulous. "What? Why?"

"It's simple," reasoned the performer. "The two of you can fly, and if you and this Pinkie pony can't prevail against this thing, then I don't see how I can help. If you go by air, you'll get there much faster than if you had to compensate for me."

"But what will you do?" Luna inquired.

"I'll keep an eye on Twilight Sparkle." Trixie raised a hoof to hold off any interrupting objections. "This isn't about rivalry. Celestia Herself said that Magic would form the most dangerous elemental. If we have somepony keeping watch on it, we won't be taken by surprise when it finally shows itself."

The princess of night considered this for a moment. "Can you keep us abreast of any developments?"

The blue unicorn nodded. "Speedy Service's Instantaneous Notification."

"Very well, then." Her mentor's expression softened a bit. "Good luck."

Trixie gave the biggest, most sincere smile Ditzy had ever seen on her. "Thank you, Princess." She galloped off.

Luna turned her gaze to the pegasus. "Shall we?"

The grey mare nodded. "Right." She turned to Dinky. "Please, Muffin. Stay here. Stay safe." With that, she took flight.

The princess prepared to follow suit when she felt a tug at her rump. Turning, she saw that her tail was caught in somepony. "Yes, Dinky?"

The filly released the starstuff and gave the moon deity a deadly serious look. "I need to come with you."

Luna struggled to hold back a smile. She didn't want to patronize the girl, but she was simply too precious! Adoration safely dammed behind royal dignity, she asked, "And why is that?"

"Because if I don't, you'll have to invoke the heat death of the universe twice in one day."

The alicorn was no longer worried about betraying affection towards the young unicorn. Naked astonishment, on the other hoof, was on full display. She knelt. "Climb on. Quickly, before your mother notices. And tell nopony how you convinced me."

Once he'd come to terms with his student's equine nature (and was assured that she bore him none of her patron's ill will,) Jace Beleren proved to be an excellent teacher, primarily because direct mind-to-mind interaction removes most of the profession's hurdles. He had the added benefits of a reclusive reputation and an extremely competent assistant, allowing him to spend a few weeks away from leadership of the Infinite Consortium with none the wiser.

The curriculum for that period was a crash course in most of blue magic: illusion, divination, air and water manipulation, and of course, psychomancy. At the mind mage's insistence, he would only introduce these disciplines. "If you can take the basic principles and create something new," he explained at the beginning of the tutelage, "then you're exponentially more capable and versatile than someone who just blindly imitates others."

Of course, it wasn't all smooth soaring. Telekinesis was by far the hardest technique for Ditzy to master, frustrating her until Jace had offered to examine the problem firsthand. "What do you mean?" asked the pegasus.

"You've had no trouble getting other, more complicated spells to work for you," the human noted. "I suspect that the issue here is a mental block."

The adolescent pony considered this. "Well, I guess it's okay, but be careful. I don't want Tezzeret to storm in on my account."

The mind mage grinned, still relieved that the Esperite's grudge remained his alone. "Trust me, neither do I."

The mental scan showed that she had subconsciously filed telekinesis as "unicorn magic," and therefore as something she couldn't do. Jace had actually laughed after explaining this.

"What!?" Ditzy demanded, cheeks flushed.

The human collected himself. "Sorry, it's just sort of adorably naive." Seeing that this didn't improve the pony's mood, he continued. "Ditzy, I've worked with a fairly considerable number of planeswalkers at this point, and I've found exactly one thing they all have in common. Do you know what that is?"

She shrugged, eyes on the floor. "How should I know? I'm too adorably naive."

Jace sighed and rubbed his temples. "Please, Ditzy. This is important."

"So tell me."

"A planeswalker has unparalleled magical capability. Any spell you can find, you can learn. Any creature you encounter, you can summon. Any device you come across, you can recreate. The only things stopping you are figuring out how and getting the mana needed once you do."

"Oh." The pony came out of her snit once she understood. "So being a pegasus doesn't matter."

He nodded. "Exactly. You think every human can use magic?"

"Wha..." The mare's eyes were wide with shock. "You mean they can't?"

Her teacher shook his head and smiled. "Adorably naive."

"It. Is. Complete!" Rarity emerged triumphant, her latest masterpiece in tow.

"What is?"

The ivory unicorn had had her eyes closed as she'd exulted in her accomplishment. Now she opened them to discover a curious dragon. She felt the smoldering beginnings of a blush. "Ah, I, uh, didn't realize I had an audience." A realization interrupted Rarity's embarrassment. "Spike, I must apologize for my deplorable behavior earlier. I wasn't in my right mind."

He gave a dismissive wave. "It's fine Rarity. I don't mind."

"You don't mind that you were magically bound, gagged, and stuffed in a closet?"

"Heck, no!" Spike licked his chops. "That binding spell was like a big glowing rope of saltwater taffy!"

"Really? You don't say?" The designer shook herself. "I'm sorry, darling, but this isn't the time to discuss your newfound taste for magic." She hefted her work. "I need to take this to Ditzy Doo. Apparently, the fate of Equestria depends on it."

Her admirer's eyes widened. "Wow, I can see why! Just look at it."

The necklace itself was finely wrought gold, a series of interconnected segments that were rather too long to be a proper chain. Dangling from this loop was a setting that, between material and form, seemed devoted to inspiring puns about "gold leaf." And in that setting was a clear, scintillating jewel the shape of a teardrop and the size of Spike's thumb.

Rarity hummed contentedly. "Fabulous, isn't it? You can imagine my surprise when I realized that the jewel was noticeably growing, but I was able to— Oh, I'm getting sidetracked again!" She looked up and down the hallway. "Where is Ditzy?"

The dragon shrugged. "I haven't seen anypony else here."

"Oh dear. I suppose I'll have to go hunt her down, as it were."

Spike grinned eagerly. "I'll do it!"

The fashionista gave a melancholy smile. "Spike, you're a sweetheart, really." The smile became rather forced. "...but you're also drooling."

"Huh?" He wiped at his chin, then fixed the most serious look he could muster on his beloved. "Milady, I promise you that I will ensure that this treasure reaches its destination whole and uneaten." The hatchling puffed out his chest. "I swear upon my honor as a courier of Canterlot!"

Adorably charming as this display was, Rarity still had her doubts. She hesitated for a moment as she composed a compromise. "How about this? We go together. I would assume that you don't know where she went, correct?"

"Yes. Uh, no. That is, yes, you're correct, and no, I don't."

"Well, neither do I. Let's go find her together, shall we?"

"Iff heffeh!" Spike realized then that his face was locked in a massive grin. As such, he nodded instead.

"Wonderful. I'll just get my saddlebags." As the unicorn went to do just that, a question came to her. "Spike?"

"Ehf?"

"How exactly did you get out of that closet?"

Well, there went the grin. "Well... I've got good news and bad news."

Dread began to settle around Rarity like an unwelcome stole. "What's the good news?"

The young dragon puffed up with pride. "I haven't lost any of my accuracy or finesse with my firebreathing."

The designer felt her features slide into a very familiar expression. It was one she thought of as "Sweetie Belle, what did you do?" "And the bad news?"

Spike deflated at this question. "Oh. That. You're gonna need a new door for that closet."

The two ponies' attempts to gather their wits after the morbid sight of an impaled equinoid were interrupted by an aguished, increasingly high-pitched scream. Pinkie pounced on Angel and began shaking him by his vine-covered little shoulders. "What did you do? What did you do!?"

The rabbit, agitated in every sense of the word, gave her the flat silent look that even ponies understood to mean "Bitch, please."

"Don't you take that kind of tone with me, Mister! I dema—"

"Pinkie." Fluttershy spoke no more loudly than usual, but the name cut through its owner's rant like Damustang steel through very angry butter. All eyes turned to the pegasus. She didn't even flinch. "Enough."

The party pony hesitated, but along with the strength, breath, and wings of a dragon, she'd also adopted its temperament. "'Enough?' 'Enough!?' When my Pinkie Sense came out of dormancy to tell me one of my summons was being attacked with holy magic, I'd assumed it was the kindness elemental, with you caught in the crossfire! Instead, she got taken out by a bunny! I was out of my mind with worry over nothing! So I will tell you when I—"

"Enough." The pink-maned mare reinforced this reiteration with a Stare that could scratch diamond, or at the very least make it apologize for being so expensive.

The enchanted earth pony met the gaze head on – and immediately regretted it. Her knees buckled. Her rage imploded. Her mind could not focus on anything beyond her own guilt and failure as a pony. She didn't even notice when her draconic enhancement abruptly vanished in a cloud of rust-colored smoke.

A sensation interrupted the guilt trip. With a start, Pinkie realized that Fluttershy was hugging her. Sniffling, the party pony returned the embrace as her expression returned to a smile. "I'm sorry, Fluttershy."

"It's okay."

"I was just so worried, and you were never in any danger, and all that emotion had to go somewhere, and Screwball was my friend, and—"

"Everything's going to be fine, Pinkie. Although we are going to have to talk about summoning abominations."

"Only if Twilight has to listen to it too." The two shared a laugh at this.

As the friends stood, the poofy-maned mare turned to Screwball's slayer. "Angel, you're still a lousy, rotten, no-good team killer."

The lagomath shrugged. He honestly didn't give a hump about the pink maniac's opinion of him. (And when a rabbit doesn't...)

Applejack cut through the warm fuzzies. "Girls, this is sweet an' all, but ain't ya forgettin' somethin'?"

Pinkie gasped in realization. "We still have to destroy the kindness elemental!"

Fluttershy gave her own more horrified gasp. "D-destroy? Why would anypony need to do something so terrible?"

"'Cause it ain't o' this world, 'Shy," explained Applejack, "an' th' longer it stays, th' more harm it does." She gave the pegasus a wry nudge. "Ah figgered this'd be right up yer alley, what with all that talk 'bout 'bominations."

"But... I'd never... It-it must..." One look in their eyes, and the gentle mare wilted against her friends' resolve. She trusted Applejack on most matters, and trying to change her mind was nearly impossible in any case. "All right. I can't stop you."

The orange mare spared a sympathetic look. "Ah'm sorry, Fluttershy. Ah know it sounds cruel, but sometimes there ain't nothin' y' kin do but put 'em outta their misery."

Upon seeing her friend's nod, Applejack joined Pinkie, who'd been scrutinizing the giant glowworm. The farmhoof sighed. "Ah shoulda known 'Shy'd get upset soon as Ah saw she was here. Any way we kin do this quick an' clean?"

"Hmm..." The party pony tapped her chin. "Hard to say. Most of what I've got on hoof won't even scratch it."

"Well what will?"

Pinkie grimaced. "It'll take a while, and it won't be pretty. By the time we'd be done, Flutters'd be scarred for life and the universe might have fallen apart in the meantime."

By this point, horror finished penetrating the pegasus's disbelief. "You... you're both talking about Eric?"

The earth ponies glanced at each other. "Toldja it weren't weird t' name 'em."

The balloon-flanked mare shrugged and turned back to her gentle friend. "Fluttershy—"

"How could you even think about such a thing? He wouldn't even think about doing harm!"

"He doesn't have to. Simply existing is enough."

All three turned. All three spoke. "Ditzy?"

"How's Dinky?" added Pinkie.

"I'm fine!"

This prompted another synchronized head turn. The reactions, however, deviated from one another. Applejack was relieved. Pinkie Pie was excited. Ditzy was less than pleased. Fluttershy's brain had stopped. "P-p-p-p-p..."

The freckled mare shook her head. "'Ere we go again. C'mon, Fluttershy, git it outta yer system."

As Ditzy dragged her daughter by the tail for a stern maternal lecture, the pink-maned pony prostrated herself before Dinky's ride.

Luna smiled at her subjects' antics, though she became rather uncertain once she noticed the shaking. "Fluttershy, please, you may rise."

She did, though she kept her head down. On the edge of hearing, there was something that might be interpreted as "Thank you, Your Highness."

Pinkie nudged the shrinking posey. "C'mon, Flutters! Luna doesn't want you to be afraid of her, she wants you to be her friend!"

The princess nodded emphatically. "I've had more than my fill of fear. Please, Fluttershy. You helped save me from an eternity of solitude and insanity. Will you accept my thanks? My friendship?"

The butter-coated pegasus was silent, but her mind raced. Her gaze darted about desperately, finally settling on the first thing that gave her a degree of confidence: Angel Bunny. With a good-natured leporine sigh, he lighted on the alicorn's back and nodded encouragingly. This settled the matter for her. "O... okay." Fluttershy hesitantly looked into Luna's eyes, hesitantly smiled, and offered her hoof for a friendly shake. Hesitantly.

Then there came a tremendous flash from behind the pegasus, prompting a piercing "Eep!" and a standing takeoff. The other three looked up. Luna gave a weary smile. "I'll get her. Maybe it will help her see past the tiara."

"An' yer the only one who kin fly," observed Applejack.

Pinkie shook her head. "There's Ditzy."

"Yes, there is," noted the pegasus in question, walking up from behind the earth ponies. She looked up as well. "In any case, somepony really needs to find Fluttershy."

Luna spread her wings. "I believe the proper modern expression is 'I called dibs.'" With that, she took flight.

Pinkie turned to her fellow planeswalker. "So, what was that big flash?"

Dinky hopped after her mother, cheerfully singing the answer. "I beat the monster! I beat the monster!"

"WHAT!?" Both earth ponies looked from mother to daughter.

Ditzy grinned and ruffled her foal's mane. "It's true, she did." She ruffled rather more aggressively and spoke through clenched teeth. "Of course, she completely disobeyed her mother in doing so!"

"Sorry sorry sorry!" cried the young unicorn, on the edge of laughter, tears, or possibly both.

"How'd you do it?" the party pony asked eagerly.

Dinky, still flush with triumph even after the chastising noogie, stood proudly as she proclaimed the secret to her conquest: "I asked."

Applejack quirked an eyebrow. "Beg pardon?"

"She did." Ditzy looked skyward and frowned. "I'd like to only have to tell this the one time, but Fluttershy is apparently proving elusive."

Pinkie squirmed like she was performing the Dance of the Overfull Bladder. "Oh, tell me, tell me! I hate suspense!"

The grey pegasus gave her a flat look. "This from the pony who refuses to elaborate on falling through a time rift as a foal."

"Okay, fine, I'm a hypocrite. Now tell meeee!"

Ditzy smiled in spite of herself. "Well, since you asked so nicely."

Ditzy might have been angry with her daughter, but that didn't mean she wanted to embarrass her in front of royalty. As such, she dragged Dinky away from the others before lambasting her. "What do you think you're doing here, young mare?"

"But Mommy, I—"

"Don't you 'but Mommy' me, Dinkabeth Sharuum Doo. I have told you twice now to stay safe and not try to stop these things yourself, and what do I find you doing?"

The foal kept her gaze to the ground and muttered, "Going after the monsters myself."

Mother embraced daughter. "I just got you back, you naughty little muffin. Don't make me worry about losing you again."

Dinky returned the hug. "You never lost me, Mommy. I knew what I was doing the whole time."

The pegasus stiffened. "What." She released her child and looked at her as though she'd sprouted arms. "Dinky, please do your poor old mother a favor and explain."

"When the monster tried to get me, it messed up. I could think out, but nopony else could think in. They didn't even notice when I was thinking with their brains. With what I knew and so many smarts to work with, I was able to figure out the best way to save everypony!" The young unicorn grinned. "I told you everything would be fine."

Ditzy took this in with an unreadable expression, a roil of conflicting emotions leaving her face neutral territory. Finally, the stalemate broke with a chuckle. "I guess you did. Still, mommies can't help but worry. She gave her head a shake. "In any case, you still haven't told me why you followed me specifically after I told you not to."

"Because I know how to beat this one, too!"

The mailpony raised an eyebrow. "Oh? How?"

Dinky shook her head. "Nuh-uh. You'll think it's silly and you won't let me."

Ditzy sighed. She almost immediately spotted the giant glowworm and pointed at it. "Well, it seems harmless enough. Why don't we go over and you can demonstrate."

"Really?"

The bubble-flanked mare nodded. "Really. But the second I think you're in danger, I'm pulling you out of there and I'm not stopping until we're at Aunt Carrot's. Deal?"

"Deal."

Once they covered the short distance to the elemental, both just took in its sheer immensity for a moment. Granted, the impact of its enormity was somewhat lessened by its dopey grin. Once the moment of awe had passed, Ditzy motioned towards the larval lummox with a flourish. "Whenever you're ready."

Dinky gulped, then moved a bit closer. "Um, Mister Monster?"

The behemoth focused on her and gave a polite smile the width of a market stall.

"W-well, I was just wondering, if it's okay with you, could you please go away so the world doesn't break 'cause of how you're not supposed to be here? Pretty please with muffins on top?"

The kindness elemental's thought processes were simplistic, bordering on infantile. However, one salient point in the request did not escape its notice:

She said "please."

After a coo of assent, the immense inchworm screwed its eyes shut and puffed out its cheeks in concentration. Its ambient glow doubled and redoubled, intensifying until the ponies had to avert their eyes. Just as Ditzy was about to grab her daughter and head for the hills, it vanished in the dazzling but harmless spectacle that sent Fluttershy racing for the stratosphere.

The earth ponies digested this revelation for a short while. Finally, Applejack disbelievingly drawled, "That's all y' had t' do? Jest ask it polite-like?"

Dinky nodded enthusiastically. "It was even nicer than the one at Miss Rarity's house!"

The farmhoof gave a chuckle. "Well, Ah guess if it'd work on Fluttershy, it'd work on 'er Element." She looked up. "Speakin' of, where has that pony gotten off to?"

As if on cue, Luna descended with Fluttershy in her forehooves. Unexpectedly for the hypothetical choreographer, they were not the only ones making a landing.

"Dashie!" Pinkie Pie wasted no time greeting the tomcolt. "Wow, I haven't seen you all day! Of course, it is still morning, but you usually sleep through most of the morning, so getting to see you this early is even better than just getting to see you! And boy, you would not believe the day I've been having. I mean, for one, you'll never guess what woke me up this morning. Go on, guess!" The poofy-maned mare bounced on her hooves for a moment before she realized that her friend hadn't even expressed unwillingness to play. She leaned closer. "Hay, are you okay?"

"No, Pinkie, I am not okay." Dash certainly didn't look okay. She was soaked with sweat and swaying on the verge of collapse. Her wings were still spread, and she winced as she folded them. "This thing has been chasing me since before sunrise. I. Am. Freaking. Exhausted. Right now, I don't want to do anything but lie down and sleep for a week." With that, she slumped to the ground, apparently intent on just that.

"What're y' runnin' from?" asked Applejack.

There was a distant thunderclap, quite out of place on such a clear day. Rainbow Dash raised a hoof to the heavens and simply said, "That."

The thunder lessened, but maintained a continuous rumble. A young voice could be discerned against it though its words could not.

Fluttershy looked to the sky anxiously. "W-what is... 'that'?"

The voice became clearer. It was shouting a most peculiar battle cry.

"That," uttered Dash, "is my fanclub."

The battle cry was as follows: "Daaaash! We're! Going! To love you!"

"Brace yourselves," sighed the worn out pegasus. "Scootaloo is coming."

Call from Arms 4W
Sorcery
Call from Arms cost 3 less to cast if it targets a white creature.
Exile target creature.
Peace works best on the already gentle.

Weatherfight

For a time, everypony just stood (or, in Dash's case, sat,) and stared at the coming storm. Luna broke out of the reverie first. "Ditzy. Pinkie. To me."

The command was enough to break the proverbial spell. As the planeswalkers attended the princess, the others were free to worry amongst themselves. "So Dash," said Applejack, "Y've bin tanglin' wi' this thing al mornin'. What kin y' tell us?"

The prone pegasus gave an impatient sigh. "What's to tell? It can match me move for move and it's as obsessed as Scootaloo. Aside from that, who knows?"

"Hay, Ah'm jest askin' so we know what t' expect."

"Sorry," grumbled Dash, "I didn't know I was supposed to be taking notes. I've been trying to get away from the thing."

"Why?" Both mares turned to Fluttershy, who flinched a bit at the attention. "If you don't mind me asking, of course..."

The other pegasus looked at her incredulously. "Because it's a living thundercloud with griffin claws and eyes of rainbow fire. Why wouldn't I want to get away from it?"

"Well," noted the gentle pony, "you work with thunderclouds on a regular basis, once of your oldest friends is a griffin, and I've seen you leave trails of rainbow fire, so I guess I don't really see the... problem..." Fluttershy trailed off. "Sorry."

Applejack nodded at this assessment. "She's got a point, Rainbow. What's th' rest o' th' story?"

Dash's gaze was firmly on the ground. "Nothing. It's just weird seeing all of that put together." She fluffed up her wings, a sign of unspoken agitation.

The farmer sighed. Looked like she'd have to resort to Twenty Questions. "So it ain't 'cause it's as good a flier as you?"

"No."

"Because it feels inexplicably yet undeniably wrong?" offered Fluttershy.

"No."

"Because you're scared?"

All three looked to Dinky, her expression sympathetic. Dash bristled at the accusation. "I am not scared!"

Applejack quirked an eyebrow. "Y' sure 'bout that, sugarcube? Y've bin runnin' from it all day."

"That doesn't mean I'm scared!"

"Then what does it mean, Rainbow?" sighed the orange mare.

"It means... it means..." The polychromatic pegasus's eyes darted every which way as she sought an excuse. Finally, she slumped even more than before, stubbornly grousing, "I don't know what it means. But I'm not scared!"

"DAAAASH!" By some trick of acoustics, Scootaloo's call was supplemented with a resonant thunderclap that made it sound like the summons of an angry god. Or worse, an amorous one.

"Okay, okay, I'm scared!" Dash swept a hoof at the tempestuous force calling her name. "But can you blame me? What the hay do I do about something like that?"

"Well," mused Applejack, "y' could ask it t' go away."

"Excuse me?"

The farmer shrugged. "Worked fer Fluttershy's critter."

The blue mare turned to her old classmate. "Seriously?"

"Well, that is, it's just what I heard afterwards..."

Dinky filled in for the awkward pegasus. "Uh huh! I asked it and I said please and poof! No more nice monster worm."

"Caterpillar," the pink-maned pony gently corrected.

"Right, no more nice caterpillar worm."

Dash gave this a moment's thought. "Well, I guess it couldn't hurt..."

"Glad y' came t' a decision," called Applejack, "'cause it's darn near here!" Indeed, the elemental was descending upon the ponies, a bank of mundane clouds following in its wake like a king's courtiers.

Luna also noticed its approach. "As we discussed, my little ponies."

Ditzy and Pinkie nodded and gave a synchronized cry of "Right!"

"Hey! Tall, dark, and crackling!"

Pinkie's smile was an optimistic island in a sea of surprise. "Wow, that plan lasted for way longer than I thought it would!"

Everypony ignored her, as did the loyalty elemental. All eyes were on Rainbow Dash, standing tall, proud, and very definitely not going to collapse the moment she unlocked her legs, thank you very much. "Yeah, I'm talking to you!"

"Remember now, Rainbow," hissed Applejack, "y' gotta be polite!"

"Yeah, yeah." The pegasus kept her attention on the puffy entity. "So, um, hi there."

To much astonishment, it waved. "She said 'hi'!" gushed Scootaloo.

Dash gave an awkward chuckle. "Um, yeah. Listen, I appreciate that you want to hang out with me and all, but honestly? You're kinda freaking me out here."

Ditzy turned to Pinkie. "Is she—?"

"I mean, I can't fault you for taste..."

The poofy pony gave a nervous nod. "She is."

"...but could you give me some space? Please?"

As one, the planeswalkers sighed. "We're doomed."

"Why?" asked Luna.

For several seconds, the elemental simply floated there, working with a thought process even simpler than that of its grubby cousin. Still, what it lacked in sophistication, it made up for in speed, and it came to a conclusion in short order. It announced this arrival with a scream.

This scream was not one of the thunderous sounds with which the creature had expressed itself before. It was the shriek of tortured air in the pressure waves just before a sonic boom, the whine of a dynamo on the point of overload, the wail of a lover mourning the loss of a soulmate. Over this cacophony, Pinkie shouted to the moon princess, "That's why!"

Chandra Nalaar, planeswalker, pyromancer prodigy, and natural redhead, opened the door of the monastery. "Can I help you?" She rather doubted she could. The girl – still in the middle of puberty by the look of her – didn't resemble the usual sort of visitor in the least. The sincere smile, the casual stance, the unassuming air, it all spoke of someone who was either unfamiliar with the realities of life or one skilled enough to get away with feigning that ignorance. Going by youth alone, the pyromancer found the prospect of the latter unlikely at best.

"Hi," the girl said brightly. "I was hoping to study here for a while, broaden my horizons a bit."

"Uh huh." Honestly, who said "broaden my horizons" and meant it?

"Say," said the youth, "you wouldn't happen to be Chandra, would you?"

This cracked the cold shoulder routine. "You've heard of me?"

The thin blonde nodded. "I'm a student of a friend of yours. Jace Beleren?"

The abbess had always told Chandra to be polite with visitors. As such, she didn't ignite her fist before sending it into the girl's face.

The newcomer ducked, her reflexes were better than her appearance indicated. She then caught the pyromancer as she tipped over, all her weight put into the wild swing. "What's the big idea!? I just wanted to—"

Chandra shoved her away. "You wanted to spy on us!" She paused. The girl's grey tunic hadn't felt like cloth. More like fur or hair. The redhead sneered. "Damn illusionists." With that, she breathed out a massive gout of flame at the girl.

When the smoke cleared, the youth seemed no worse for the wear, though her expression was of sad disappointment. "I was hoping Jace was wrong about you. I guess you are just some ruffian." With that, she faded to nothingness.

The fire mage did a quick circle, looking for any irregularities that might betray the spy's location. On the roof above her, Ditzy looked on regretfully. "Well," the pegasus muttered to herself, "I tried." At least she was able to see the motion of mana in the other planeswalker as she called forth the flames. It wasn't much to go on, but maybe she could puzzle out something.

"Do you realize what you've done!?" Judging by the blend of fear and frustration on Ditzy's face, she'd have been shouting even if she didn't have to talk over the elemental's keening wail.

Applejack's response was characteristically concise. "Dash's th' one who made it go crazy!"

The accused pegasus looked at her friend in shock. "It was your idea!"

"Y' did'n' have t' do it!"

Ditzy ignored the bickering, her gaze growing more fearful as she turned back to the vociferous cloud. Her lips were moving, but it took several repetitions before one could hear that she was saying "Oh no" at ever-increasing volumes. She began to prance in place, wings flapping at random as her agitation grew.

Finally, Rainbow Dash butted in on the planeswalker's panic attack. "Ditzy!" Once she was sure that she had the grey mare's attention, she shouted "What have I done?" as gently as she could.

"Asking nicely only worked on Fluttershy's grub because it was a kindness elemental. It was literally made of being nice. This thing is made of loyalty. Loyalty to you. You telling it to abandon you is an irreconcilable paradox, and I have no idea what it's going to do when it's finished yelling!"

"Um, Ditzy?"

She turned to Applejack. "What?"

"It is."

The blonde pegasus blinked, grinned sheepishly, and said "Oh" at a more reasonable volume. Then she turned back to the elemental and her eyes widened. "Oh," she repeated, with far less embarrassment and far more fear.

The other ponies followed suit. Dash garnished her "Oh" with a "buck me."

"Don't go givin' her ideas," Applejack said distantly, her wit on automatic while the rest of her, like the others, was doing its best to keep her from wetting herself.

Given what floated before them, it was an understandable struggle. Somewhere in the being before them was Scootaloo, that much was clear. At times, depending on how the coruscating energies were positioned, it was even visible. For the most part, however, the figure appeared as a pegasus made of unnatural lightning, a princess-sized, crimson-coated mass of furious energy. Its very presence made the little ponies' subconsciouses insist that they submit before it made them submit.

In a moment of bowel-clenching, bladder-loosening terror, it landed and walked towards Rainbow Dash, a voltaic sizzle sounding with every step. The Bearer of Loyalty found herself conflicted between a pressing desire to curl into a fetal position and the absolute certainty that breaking eye contact would be the last mistake she would ever make.

The awesome force continued to gaze at her. Dash felt an unbearable blend of fear and shame., like she was facing the combined scorn of her parent, her flight instructor, her friends, and Celestia herself. She didn't feel worthless. She felt like something that wasn't worthy of being spat upon by the worthless. She—

She realized that she was staring at Pinkie Pie. "Whuh...what happened?"

"Hi, Dashie! Finally made your Will save, huh?"

The elemental's cry swept across all of Ponyville. For several seconds, the town winced as a single pony. Some kept going after it had passed.

"What was that horrible noise!?" shrieked the Unpleasable Demon-Pony of One Thousand Demands, more commonly known outside of Diamond Dog communities as Rarity.

Spike silently wished he had external ears, if only so he could cover them. "Don't know," he replied, "but given all the crazy stuff going on today, I bet Ditzy Doo is near whatever made it."

The unicorn sighed. "Well, let us hope that it won't be sounding that cry again any time soon, hmm?" Her not-so-secret admirer nodded, and the duo headed for the direction of the sound.

Trixie approached Books and Branches cautiously. The amount of magic in the air made her horn throb and filled her mouth with the taste of tin. Well, mostly tin. In any case, she was as close to the building as she dared. Judging by the crowd around the place, the energy would do more than give a headache and the sense of sucking on a soup can at closer range. It was either that or what the Cultured and Cosmpolitan Trixie considered unpleasant, Ponyville treated as a novel escape from small-town drudgery.

The unicorn caught herself. She hadn't been referring to herself in the adjective-laden third pony since that sobering glimpse into Ditzy Doo's memory. (Okay, it wasn't long, but it was a start.) Trixie's eyes widened in fear. This was more than a headache. This was some manner of mind-effecting magic, slow-acting this far away, but acting nonetheless. The showmare realized that she may have once again bitten off more than she could chew. She began to invoke Speedy Service's signature spell when a thought played through her mind unbidden:

"I can handle this."

Trixie shook herself. That was the magic talking. Thinking. Whatever. The point was, she very definitely couldn't handle this. At least, not alone.

"Sure I can. I can still tell which thoughts are really mine, can't I?"

Yes, but who knew for how much longer?"

"So use the false confidence constructively. Screen it out."

The performer was understandably confused. The effects of the high magic field were advising her on how to counteract the effects of the high magic field?

"Of course. The magic doesn't care if I go or stay. It's just making me more of a genius than I already am. If I use that genius to protect myself from worse effects, what's the problem?"

Well, when she put it like that...

When it put it like that. Not her. It.

"Better cast that screen before it's too late."

Right. Trixie knew that.

"Uh-huh."

She tuned out the sarcasm of her own voice and turned her focus inward. With a shudder, she could sense, feel, almost see the squiggly, itchy rainbow crawling down her horn and into her brain. Revulsed, the mare shoved it away, weaving a thin but impermeable shroud into the material of her skull.

Unfortunately, Trixie hadn't considered how that shroud would form. It expanded outward from her horn like a bubble. As it grew, it dragged those writhing, maddening energies that had already reached her cortex from one end of her brain to the other.

In most unicorns, as much of the horned population of Ponyville was demonstrating, this would result in a blissful fugue state. Trixie was not like most unicorns. The key difference lay in her special talent, magic. Stage magic, yes, but it stil meant that her system could respond to this much energy in a way other than unresponsive ecstasy.

"Hee. Hee hee. Ha ha ha. Ahahahaha! Ha ha ha!! Ha ha ha ha!!! Hahahahahahahaha haaaa!!!!!"

Instead, it responded with melodramatic ecstasy.

Her multibanged mirth satisfactorily expressed, Trixie charged towards the library, caution forgotten in her exhilaration. "Ho, Sparkle!" she called, "What say you? Dare you come down from your tower and cross horns with The Great and Powerful Trixie? Or will you cower behind your living walls, of wood and flesh alike?"

On the inside, the library at which Trixie was shouting was nigh-unrecognizable. Its living tissues were turgid with arcane power, warping the hollow spaces in ways that made Euclopean geometry throw up its axes and translate away in disgust. Much of the structure was unnavigable by those accustomed to four-dimensional spacetime. Most of the books were similarly incompatible, transformed into arrays of cubes in hyperspatial bindings, words inscribed along the temporal continuity of the tomes' worldlines, or still more esoteric media. When Trixie had concluded her bout of manic laughter, the tree's roots brushed the very edge of the plane.

Beyond a labyrinth worthy of a thousand David Bowies was what a fevered few might still recognize as Twilight's bedroom. There, dreams, shadows, and stranger things chirped and gurgled amongst themselves, making eager, impossible plans. The air itself capered gaily in anticipation. And within the indescribable bed-descended construct at the center of the space, something heard Trixie's summons and shifted.

Outside the eldritch hive, one of the rapt unicorns frowned at the rambunctious newcomer. "Shh. The Mother sleeps."

Trixie sneered at him. "Bah! Foal! The Great and Powerful Trixie cares not if her archrival was deep in her cups in Luna's last reign. A true master of magic should be prepared to defend her reputation day or night, sans preamble!" She turned back to the tree. "Sparkle! Show yourself or be known forever as a coward!"

Her displays had roused more of the entranced ponies. "The Mother sleeps," said several near her.

"In the name of Magic, I conjure you!"

"The Mother grows," said a few dozen.

"In the name of Honor, I conjure you!"

"The time is not right," said almost one hundred.

"In the name of Celestia's luscious flanks, I—" Trixie's third exhortation was interrupted by a massive multicolored aura surrounding her and locking her in place. It was like being clutched in the talon of an enormous griffin.

As the frenzied energies in her mind exhausted themselves, the showpony registered countless angry unicorns staring at her, horns aglow. They spoke as one. "Be silent and wait."

Dash shook her head, trying to work through the crushing trauma to her ego. "What happened?" she repeated.

Pinkie grinned a specific grin that, in a list of smiles even longer than Celestia's, represented joyous celebration of an opportunity to deliver exposition. "Oh, you didn't see it? It was incredible! You and Applejack and Ditzy were all shaking in your hooves and the Scootaloyal thingie was staring you all down when suddenly BAM! Fluttershy hovers right over you and matches it stare for stare! It was a contest of the stare masters the likes of which have never been seen outside of late-night infomercials! Finally, it acted all like it had better things to do, but you could totally tell that it was giving up, and then me and Fluttershy shook Applejack and Ditzy out of their trances, We tried to shake you out of it, but you wouldn't come out no matter how hard we shook, and believe me, I can give one heck of a shaking! Anyway, Fluttershy said she'd seen this kind of thing before and that you'd come to on your own eventually, and that somepony should stay behind to keep an eye on you until you did, so I volunteered and that's what I've been doing since, keeping an eye on you. And now we can go meet back up with the others and save Scootaloo and Twilight and the world!"

Still not fully un-out-snapped, Dash took a moment to parse all of this. Once she got near the end, she gave a worried start. "What's wrong with Twilight?"

"Oh, nothing urgent. At least, I don't think it is. I can't check on her 'cause there's a crowd of unicorns outside the library that's like four ponies deep and Pokey Pierce is right outside the door and I still owe him five bits from a month ago and it's kind of awkward at this point, so—"

"Okay, okay, not urgent, got it." Irritating as it was, Dash had to admit that listening to Pinkie was helping to clear her mental fog, if ony so she could get away from the ebullient baker. "What about Scoots?"

The hyperactive mare gave her an incredulous look. "Um, duh? What did you think the giant scary energy pony that stared you into catatonia was, silly?"

"But... I thought... The stupid thundercloud..."

Pinkie's expression shifted to that blend of sympathy and concern usually deployed for victims of pranks gone awry. "You really didn't know."

"Didn't know what?"

The pink pony bit her lip and began to glance from side to side. "I should get you to Ditzy. She'll be able to explain this better than me."

"Pinkie." Dash took her friend's head in her hooves, forcing eye contact. "Please. Tell me what's happened to her."

The party planner unparalleled hesitated a moment before submitting. "Okay."

The spectrum-maned pegasus offered an uneasy smile. "Not 'okie-dokie-lokie'?"

Pinkie shook her head. "Not this time." She took a deep breath. With the exhalation came the unmistakable whine of air gradually escaping a poorly tied balloon, and in turn a partial deflation of Pinkie's mane. "Here's the story:

"When you asked the loyalty elemental to go away, you presented it with a paradox. If it obeyed you, that would be a betrayal of abandonment. If it stayed with you, that would be a betrayal of disobedience. Something like that isn't built to handle logical dilemmas, which is partly why it was shouting so much.

"The other part was how it resolved the paradox. It decided that it had to change who it was loyal to."

Dread clutched at Dash's heart. "Scoots."

"Exactly. That way, the elemental could remain near you without having to obey you. But then, it decided to ensure that its new mistress wouldn't make it go through another paradox."

"How?"

"It possessed her."

The pegasus felt her blood chill at this revelation. "What does that mean for Scootaloo?"

"She's safe, and she will be when it releases her. Harming its mistress is unthinkable for this thing."

"Then how could it do what it's already done!?"

"That isn't harm. Not according to the elemental. Think about it. It's made her powerful, beautiful, flight-capable, everything she's aspired towards and then some. It has fulfilled her deepest, innermost wish.

"What?"

"To be better than you."

For a moment, Rainbow Dash just stood there, thinking. Finally, she looked to the sky. "Where is she?"

Pinkie shook her head. "Bad idea. Really bad idea. You of all ponies shouldn't try to subdue this thing. It's been tailor-made specifically to outclass you in every possible respect. Besides, you're exhausted."

"Where?"

"Dash, please."

The would-be Wonderbolt gave her friend a look as firm and unbreakable as her resolve. "I do not leave my friends hanging. Ever. Right now, my biggest fan, the filly who's practically devoted her life to celebrating how awesome I am, is in this mess because of my mistake. If you think for even a second that I'm not going to do everything in my power to help her, then you've. Got. Another. Thing. COMING. Understand?"

Pinkie's response was the full reinflation of her mane and grin #11, "Frabjous Day!" "That's exactly what I was hoping you'd say!" With that, the planeswalker slapped a hoof across Dash's flank, a pulse of red magic flowing out of the extremity to reinvigorate the pegasus. "Follow me, Dashie, we've got a monster to stop!"

"Girls!"

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle came to a halt, looking for the source of the call.

Two pegasi approached them, clearly concerned. "Have you seen Scootaloo?" asked the mare.

The earth filly shook her head. "We're lookin' for 'er right now, Mrs. Twister. She ain't with you?"

"We haven't seen her since she left home in a snit over some burnt toast," answered the stallion.

Dizzy Twister frowned. "Ollie!"

"I'm as worried as you are, Darling. I'm just trying to channel it into something a bit more constructive than blind panic."

"Our daughter is out Princess-knows-where while these... these monstrosities are rampaging through our town and some addle-pated postal worker is supposed to fix the situation!" The rose-maned mare seemed on the verge of tears. "If now isn't the time to panic, then when?"

"Hey!" Sweetie protested. "There's nothing wrong with Ditzy Doo or her pate!"

"What's a pate?" Apple Bloom whispered to her.

"I think it's your liver."

Ollie Outie nodded his agreement with the young unicorn. "Eyes and sense of direction aside, she's a perfectly capable pony."

The yellow-coated mare narrowed her eyes suspisciously. "And how would you know?"

"I talk to her when she delivers our mail to develop my own opinion of her rather than blindly follow the herd." The pumpkin-colored stallion smirked and gave his platinum-blonde mane a toss. "I've even invited her to drop a sick beat or two at the station. Alas, it seems doubtful that we'll even hear the fresh rhymes of MC Derpalot."

"Um, Mr. Outie? Mrs. Twister?" called Apple Bloom.

"Ah. Right. Hardly the time or place to be the discussing the exploits of KLOP."

The redmaned filly gave what she hoped was a confidence-inspiring grin. "Well, we're gonna look for 'er for ya, an' we'll be sure t' tell 'er yer worried 'bout 'er." With that, the two Crusaders galloped off.

Ollie didn't need to look to know that his wife was about to pursue them. "Don't."

"Ollie, they're just foals!"

"Yes. Foals who have shown more courage than most adult ponies in town, you and I included."

"Because they don't know how frightened they should be!"

"No, they don't know how frightened you think they should be. There's a difference."

Dizzy Twister nickered in frustration. "You're impossible sometimes."

The stallion permitted himself a small smile. More of a smirk, really. "Ditzy Doo isn't the only responsible adult involved. Princess Luna is there as well, as she made abundantly clear. Do you really think she'll allow a few innocent fillies to come to harm?"

His wife slumped a bit, exhausted from anxiety. "I guess you're right..."

Ollie spread his wings. "Still, it would be best not to leave anything to chance."

In an eyeblink, Dizzy was in front of him, her own wings flared to block his path. "Oh no. I'm not leting both of the most important ponies in my life risk theirs."

Her husband nodded in understanding. "Very well then."

She relaxed. "Good."

"You'll just have to stop me en route."

Before she could so much as say "Huh?", he was already in the air.

Ditzy hadn't done much air-to-air combat in her travels. She preferred diplomacy or misdirection to direct conflict. She rather regretted this as she found herself going pezuña a pezuña with the loyalty elemental. Still, reflected her more analytical bits, she was years out of practice in magical dueling, so it was doubtful that she'd do much better in her preferred medium.

The rest of her thoughts were fully involved in panicking and not getting herself or anypony else killed in the dogfight with a pegasus-shaped electrical storm. As another multicolored bolt of lightning arced towards her, her primaries briefly shined with divine light. When the energy struck, it did no harm, instead sounding a note sung by the very voice of law.

Insulted and enraged by the sound, the thing that had been Scootaloo pounced on Ditzy, a forehoof delivering blow after blow. Every strike sounded another clarion note, further infuriating the berserk equinoid.

Neither party was working to stay airborne, so the assault was halted by the grey pegasus hitting the ground back-first. A visible ripple travelled from her spine up into her rear hooves, and she delivered a buck enhanced with the force of the impact.

The pegasine elemental was sent flying, but righted itself in midair. Static crackled around her as she charged another bolt. Ditzy, still on her back, scrambled to right herself, the smell of ozone growing more intense with every second.

Then Rainbow Dash blindsided the thing.

The planeswalker breathed a sigh of relief. She then noticed what appeared to be cotton candy creeping into her peripheral vision. "Hello, Pinkie. Nice timing."

The earth pony beamed. "Thanks! I'm actually really glad to hear you say that, 'cause I knew Rainbow Dash would want to make her entrance at the peak of dramatic tension but I was worried you might not appreciate it as much since you'd have to be in mortal peril pretty much by definition, but you—"

"Pinkie. Possessed thunderfilly. Focus."

The party pony stuck out her tongue and gave a playful blow to her forehead. "Right, sorry." She looked around the plaza, within view of the library. "Where is everypony?"

"Working on Plan B."

"I thought this was Plan B."

Ditzy rolled her eyes. "Plan C, then."

Pinkie contemplated this. "Huh. Well, I guess I'll have to move the hamsters, the marmalade, and the liquimetal to Plan D."

"What will you... never mind." The golden-eyed pegasus looked up. "I better go help Dash."

Without surprise on her side, the weather pony was finding herself easily outmatched. This Super-Scootaloo was faster, more agile, and maybe even a little cooler than she was. (That being said, she was not yet willing to cede superior awesomeness or radicalness.) Every time Dash tried to set up a maneuver, the possessed filly was in her path, her ambient electrical aura sending tingles through the blue pony's muscles. Several rounds of this had made her uncomfortably numb, struggling to keep her flaps steady and coordinated.

A trio of azure orbs swept in between the two. Above and behind the crackling creature, Ditzy gestured to Dash to land. The speedster gave a grateful nod and did so as the probes harried and distracted "Scootaloyal."

As Pinkie ministered to the nearly paralyzed pegasus (by absorbing the charge like a reverse joy buzzer), Ditzy stayed above the aerial combatants. Her mind was working frantically, running through possible strategies, guiding her illusions' evasive action, and keeping half an eye on the one probe she'd left with her backup. As such, she could be forgiven for not noticing the newcomer until he cleared his throat.

"Gah!" All the probes attempted to headbutt the thundermare. She countered with a discharge that tore through them like wet tissue paper. The ill-fated eyes' mistress, meanwhile, was seeing who had surprised her. "Ollie Outie?"

"Ditzy." He turned to the electrical equinoid, surrounded by the fading tatters of the phantasmal orbs. "Fighting for the fate of Equestria, I see."

"Um, yeah." This was awkward on so many levels...

"I don't suppose you've seen Scootaloo today?"

So. Many. Levels. "Uh, this really isn't the time..."

Satisfied that the blue annoyances were dealt with, the hybrid turned towards the noise overhead.

The stallion shrugged. "I should think you could spare the time for a simple yes or no."

"Well, you see—"

There was a flicker of recognition in the raging rapids of Scootaloo's stream of consciousness. "Dad?"

Rainbow Dash chose that moment to perform a combination dive bomb/body slam. "Oh yeah! How'd ya like that!?" She noticed Ollie. "MC Less-Than-Three! 'Sup?"

He was not nearly as pleased. "Aside from you tackling my inexplicably galvanic daughter into the dirt?"

The blue mare's reply was preempted by a blood-tingling, spine-curdling roar the likes of which should never come from a pony's throat. The thunderfilly rose to her hooves, then released a spherical wave of crackling plasma.

Pinkie slammed a hoof into the ground and enclosed herself in a dome of obsidian. The pegasi didn't have that option. Instead, Ditzy grabbed the other ponies and shoved them in front of her.

Wide-eyed, Rainbow cried, "What do you—"

She didn't get to finish before wide, white wings enfolded her. A sense of peace filled the mare. Her thoughts turned to her mother, and the simple comfort of sleeping while nestled into her side. She was distantly aware of a sound like a dropped piece of sheet metal as the plasma harmlessly passed her by.

The wings faded, and with them the inexplicable serenity. From behind, Ditzy asked, "You okay, Rainbow Dash?"

The weather pony just nodded, speechless.

"Ollie Outie?"

"Just peachy," he squeaked, clearly shaken out of his usual cool.

"Tha's good," the blonde slurred before slumping onto the other pegasi.

"We should set her down," said Dash, feeling that somepony should.

"Right."

As they did so, Pinkie's stone carbuncle shivered for a moment, then shattered into dozens of wickedly sharp fragments. They hovered in place around their mistress, who gave a feral grin. "This is how we do it on the rock farm!"

With that, the shard volley streaked towards the hybrid. Acting on impulse, she surrounded herself in a towering pillar of electricity. The barrier dragged the volcanic glass to a halt less than an inch from her face.

"Uh oh." The party pony saw where this was going. She took a deep breath. As the fragments were launched back at her, she opened her mouth wide. Her throat glowed crimson, and from it issued an identical igneous onslaught. The two met in midair, shattering against one another and fading to nothingness.

Pinkie pouted. "Well that didn't work." She turned back a bit, keeping Scootaloyal in her line of sight. "How's Ditzy?"

"She passed out," answered Dash.

"Mana exhaustion," grumbled the pink mare. "She's been pushing herself too hard." She shut her eyes, briefly adjusting her perspective along axes unknown even to most planeswalkers. Nodding to herself, she concluded, "She'll come to in a few minutes."

She opened her eyes, and the difference in the scene registered. "Uh oh."

"What 'uh oh'?" Ollie Outie asked anxiously.

"Where's Scootaloo?"

The pegasi spotted her almost simultaneously. "Directly above us," the stallion observed, "going for a death dive."

Dash shook her head. "Not at those speeds. She's trying for a sonic rainboom!"

Indeed, what had just been a speck barely visible even to pegasus eyes was now the size of a bit and growing. Her impact was assured, and only two things could stop it. One was failing to breach the sound barrier, which didn't seem very likely.

The other was the tornado.

Rapt as the trio had been by their impending doom, none of them had noticed the whirlwind until it had positioned itself between them and the diving filly.

"Well that was convenient," noted Pinkie.

Dash was less pleased. "Does whoever made that thing realize how much paperwork I have to fill out for an unscheduled cyclone?"

The party pony frowned in confusion. "I thought you made Dotted Line do all your paperwork."

"To answer the question," Ollie interjected, "yes, she does, though I rather doubt she cares right now. Still, this does explain what was taking her so long."

"Her?" repeated the blue mare. "Her who?"

As though in reply, Dizzy Twister fluttered into view, landing under the tornado's spout and glowering expectantly. A few seconds later, a disheveled pile of possessed pegasus came crashing out of the funnel, which then dissipated.

"Dear Celestia, I love that mare," gushed her husband.

The would-be Wonderbolt groaned and facehoofed. "Of course. The best vortex engineer in Ponyville. And Scoots' mother. Who else would it be?"

The triple-tornado flanked pony paid no mind to the peanut gallery, focused instead on the crumpled heap of madmare before her. Uncanny maternal instinct recognized her child, and the floodgates opened. "There you are, young filly. Do you have any idea how worried I've been?"

Scootaloyal gave no reply, still trying to get rump back under teakettle.

"Really, of all the days to blithely stomp out of the house! You just don't understand what you put me through, you really don't. And just look at you! Honestly, what have you done to yourself?"

Pinkie opened her mouth to answer this, but was stopped by a hoof on her shoulder. "Do you know how to reverse it?" asked Ollie.

The poofy-maned mare paused and frowned. "Well, no."

"Then don't waste your breath. Dizzy's in a tizzy. Best to just weather it until it passes."

The ranting pony's daughter seemed less than inclined to take this advice. Once she'd collected herself, she began twitching and shaking with barely contained energy. The struggle between filial loyalty and destructive boredom was visible as Dizzy's words washed over her like so much white noise. At the breaking point of the thunderfilly's patience, there came a welcome distraction.

"Scootaloooo! Scoot-scootaloooo!"

"Do you really think that's the best way to get her attention?"

Judging by everypony's reaction, it was certainly an effective one. The incongruous appearance of the other Cutie Mark Crusaders had managed to stun even Dizzy Twister into silence. A brief, delicate peace reigned as this new development was processed.

Naturally, Scootaloyal reacted first, streaking towards her friends with such speed that they barely had time for a strangled yelp. To much relief, her pounce was affectionate rather than aggressive, enveloping her friends in a massive hug.

"Huh," mused Apple Bloom. "A friendly monster. Now ain't that a nice change o' pace?"

Distress filled Sweetie Belle's heart, the situation all too familiar. "Just because it's nice doesn't mean it can stay."

The earth filly dismissed this with a wave of her hoof. "Aw, it ain't hurtin' nopony." At that point, the thunderfilly's ambient charge turned her friends' coats and manes into fluffballs. "Ain't. Hurtin'. Nopony." repeated the young Apple, a twitch in one eye likely unrelated to the electricity.

"I'm not through with you, little missy!" Dizzy Twister strode towards the Crusaders like a vengeful goddess. "You can play with your friends after we've finished this discussion."

The fluffy fillies looked at one another. "Mrs. Twister?" noted Apple Bloom.

"'Your friends'?" quoted Sweetie Belle.

Both looked at the increasingly anxious pegasus. "Scootaloo?"

The energized foal didn't think; she just reacted. Beset on all sides by the tyrannies of parental and awesome ponies, she took flight.

Her mother gritted her teeth, her expression promising great vengeance and furious anger. "You aren't getting away that easy, Vivian Louise Twister!" She took off as well.

Dash noticed what the other mare hadn't; Scoots still had passengers. "Pinkie, stay underneath the Crusaders and be ready to catch them!" She followed the developing pattern.

The party pony turned to Ollie Outie. "Coming?"

He shrugged. "Might as well." With that, the chase was fully underway.

Luna looked over the preparations, well pleased. Oh, she could have summoned forth her elite forces, but most of the guards she'd hoofpicked were still in training, and those who weren't still hadn't seen as much action as the Bearers of Harmony. Manticore, dragon, hydra, ...alicorn. She would have made each Bearer a general if she didn't agree with Celestia that each deserved as normal a life as she could manage given the stewardship of an ancient artifact of incredible power. This, decided the princess, was the next best thing. She began her speech. "Fillies and gentlehare, the time of action draws nigh. I have the utmost confidence in each and every one of you, but overconfidence has lost more battles than I hope you ever have to see. As such, we shall review the plan one final time.

"Angel Bunny." The augmented rabbit smirked confidently. "You have volunteered to face the possessed Scootaloo head-on. Your objective is to subdue or exhaust her until she cannot resist the next stage of the plan.

"Fluttershy." The gentle pegasus swallowed, doing nothing against the lump in her throat. "You are to serve as Angel's backup. Should Scootaloo prove too mighty for him to overcome, your Stare shall cow her into submission.

"Applejack." The farmhoof came to a passable attempt at attention. "To your lasso I have bequeathed the blessing of the night. Once the filly is unable to struggle against it, it shall drink in the power of Loyalty with all the insatiability of the void.

"Dinky Doo." The filly was clearly on the verge of bouncing in her excitement. "You have demonstrated a remarkable talent for observation. You shall act as tactician, keeping watch over the skirmish and announcing key shifts in the tide of battle. I will act as the ultimate high ground from which you can do so."

The princess of the night looked over her chosen few proudly. "I am certain that this will be an unmitigated success. Are there any questions?"

"Uh, Ah got one," said Applejack, looking askance at her lasso. "Is that 'blessin' o' th' night' safe fer me t' use?" Her concern was understandable; the rope appeared to be made not of braided hemp but a tangible absence, as though it were a rope-shaped hole in space.

"Entirely," Luna reassured her. "I wove the enchantment specifically to do no harm to pony or rabbit. Only the aberration controlling young Scootaloo will be affected."

"Um..." Fluttershy had folded in on herself. "A-are you really sure I should be involved? It isn't like I can control the Stare. It just comes."

Applejack laid a supportive leg across her friend's shoulders. "Sugarcube, if'n Angel's in trouble, then Ah know whatever got 'im there's gonna have you t' answer to."

"Really?"

"Sure as a caramel apple is sticky."

Luna nodded, satisfied. "Excellent. Let us begin!"

With that, Scootaloyal streaked over their heads. Pinkie Pie followed, sparing them a Clopplered "Hi guys!" Then three more pegasi followed in quick succession.

Fluttershy raised a hoof. "Your Highness, does this change the plan at all?"

The alicorn's reply was preempted by an excited "Hey!" Everypony turned to see an enthusiastically waving Spike atop Rarity.

"Well howdy there, you two," Applejack said warmly. "Where've y'all been?"

"Addressing one of the horrid creatures invading the town," answered the designer. She bit her lip. "Well, not horrid, per se... but that's neither here nor there. Where is Ditzy?"

The farmhoof looked up. "Near as Ah kin tell, she just flew by."

"She didn't." All eyes turned to Dinky. "None of those ponies were Mommy."

The sheer amount of worry in that statement brought Rarity to a firm, abrupt decision. With a smile, she levitated the comissioned necklace, doubled over the chain, and resized it with a thought. "Here, Dinky, dear. You hold onto this until we find your mother." She directed the jewelry over the filly's head.

The young unicorn looked at the jewel and gasped in delight. "Really?"

"Really."

The five-pony chase passed by in the other direction. Pinkie, inexplicably covered in something brown and gooey, offered a "Hi Spike! Hi Rarity!" as she passed.

The fashionista watched her recede towards the horizon. "Well, I'm clearly behind on current events. What have I missed?"

Luna landed in front of the gathered ponies, startling them. Nopony had even noticed her leave. And for how long had Angel been standing on her head? "What are you all still doing here?" the princess asked incredulously. "Onward, my friends! We nearly have the fiend cornered!"

Scootaloo's thoughts at this time are not transcribable in any way that would make sense. At least, not with the English alphabet, and not in a format limited to two dimensions. Given the restrictions of the medium, her cognition could best be described – and even then, not very well – as an operatic remix of the Nyan Cat song performed on an electric guitar, a theramin, and a didgeridoo made from a hollowed-out butternut squash.

That being said, a telepathic panhandler in her stream of consciousness might come across the occasional nugget of coherence. One such chunk cropped up as she again passed by the unconscious Ditzy Doo: This is a pony who was fighting me. She is strong. I owe her nothing. I should strike while she can't defend herself.

With that, the filly dove, aiming for the other end of the plaza. She struck the ground with her forehooves, cracking the ground. She then forced energy into the breach, feeding it back on itself until it was about to explode in her face. Only then did she release it, sending a massive, earth-shattering thunderball at the prone pegasus.

"No!"

Another moment of intelligibility: What? Wait, who is that? Dash! She's in the way! She'll be hurt! She'll be killed! No no no NO!

As she stood in front of a ground-chewing blob of multicolored ball lightning, Rainbow Dash freely admitted that she hadn't thought this through. Still, she would not waver. She would protect her friend. She shut her eyes as she braced herself for the inevitable pain. The light flared painfully against her eyelids then... suddenly dimmed? The blue mare risked a peek, then gasped in astonishment.

The loyalty elemental had copied her equine shield maneuver, defending her as she defended Ditzy. The orb of charge slammed into the living cloud, but went no further. It convulsed briefly, then began to dissipate. As it did, it turned to look at her.

Guilt stabbed through the pegasus's heart. "I'm sorry."

The creature shook its head and patted hers with a disintegrating arm. The streams of flame halted; its eyes were closed. Dash wasn't able to say how, but she knew that the embodiment of her element died with a smile on its face.

"Mommy?"

"Ugh... hello, Muffin." Ditzy shook her head blearily. "This is starting to become a pattern, isn't it?"

Dinky giggled, then proudly thrust out her chest. "Look at what Miss Rarity gave me!"

"Oh my..." The gem was quite impressive, almost as big as the adult pony's eye. It had developed an odd tapered shape, and a peculiar ridged dimple had formed at the point. "It's very nice."

"Isn't it?" Its creator preened as she trotted into view. "At first I thought you weren't giving me much to work with, but I've never seen a jewel quite like it. Certainly never one that kept growing once it was out of the ground. Did you really make it from that bizarre apparatus of Sweetie Belle's?"

Ditzy nodded, then frowned. "Wait, how did you know that?"

Rarity gave a small grin. "You've been out for almost twenty minutes, Darling. We've had plenty of time to bring each other to speed." Indeed, the Bearers and Luna were all gathered nearby, chatting amiably.

The princess noted the planeswalker's recovery. "Ah, Ditzy! Are you feeling well?"

The grey mare shrugged. "Better? Sure. Well? That's a matter of debate." She looked around. "What happened to Ollie Outie?"

Pinkie made her way into the conversation. "Dizzy and he re-evacuated, and they made sure the Crusaders went with them."

"At mah insistence," added Applejack.

Rarity nodded. "And mine. Honestly, that not one of those fillies have gotten a cutie mark for needlessly risking her life is something of a marvel."

Ditzy turned to her daughter. "And why didn't you go with them, young filly?"

Dinky rolled her eyes. "Mommy, I've stopped two out of five monsters today. Can't you trust me to help with the last one?"

Her mother shook her head. "The last one is the most dangerous one. It's literally made of magic. There's no telling what it could do, or even what it will be!" She looked to the library, a pulsating, nauseating melange of color to her eyes. "Or, for that matter, why it hasn't shown up yet."

The Cutie Mark Crusaders were, to a filly, massively disappointed with the unfairness of the situation. Just because they weren't awesome hornless magic ponies or princesses or Harmony Bearers didn't mean that they couldn't help save the world! Dinky was helping, and she was a year younger than they were! Alas, their pleas fell on deaf ears, and Scootaloo's parents insisted that the trio travel ahead of them, ensuring that they couldn't sneak back to the action.

For perhaps the tenth time, Scootaloo groused, "I just can't believe that after all that, I still don't have my cutie mark!"

Apple Bloom rolled her eyes. "It's like Ah keep sayin', do ya really want a cutie mark fer goin' crazy?"

"At least it'd be something."

"Well Ah cain't b'lieve Pinkie Pie knows a spell t' turn solid ground inta chocolate puddin'."

The pegasus filly considered this for a moment. "Actually, now that I know that she can use magic, I'm not really that surprised that she'd know how to do that."

"Hmm. Y' got a point there..."

Sweetie Belle broke a long stretch of silence on her part. "Hey, Scootaloo?"

"Yeah?"

"Your dad works at the radio station, right?"

"Uh huh."

"So why is his cutie mark a heart?"

Ollie smirked. "Because my special talent is irony."

The unicorn frowned. "How does a heart represent irony?"

The smirk grew. "Exactly."

Before anypony could fully ponder this, there came a sound. It was like a thousand dragons crying out in unspeakable agony. It was like the very pillars of heaven straining beneath their load. It was like everything and nothing.

Sweetie Belle seized up, staring at nothing. A hundred voices, none of them her own, sounded through her mouth.

"The time is right. The Mother is ready. Magic comes."

Spark of Fanaticism 2RR
Enchantment — Aura
Enchant creature you control
Enchanted creature has haste and attacks each turn if able.
Whenever enchanted creature becomes blocked, you may have it deal damage equal to its power divided as you choose among any number of target creatures defending player controls. If you do, the first creature assigns no combat damage this turn.

Shattered Sky

It was a sad fact that the juggernaut of Equestrian governance did not stop for something as minor as a threat to the continued existence of the universe. Unless, of course, that threat was manifesting in Canterlot. In that case, the assorted bureaucrats, minor nobles, and other assorted functionaries would drop everything and panic as readily and as enthusiastically as any other group of ponies.

Thoughts such as these were how Celestia occupied the majority of her mind over the course of most mornings, this one being no exception. The admittedly cynical ruminations didn't just distract her from court proceedings she could have (and, on a few hilarious occasions, had) performed in her sleep. They also kept her from fretting over the very real threat to her world that, because of her duties, she could do nothing about.

The small part of the alicorn's awareness that was actually paying attention to the Morning Court nudged the rest. Bringing herself back to the audience chamber, the sun princess was pleasantly surprised to see an unassuming earth pony approaching her, unable to keep his gaze from wandering about the richly appointed room. He kept going until a forehoof hit the unexpected obstruction of the first step up to the throne. Realizing the narrowly avoided faux pas, the stallion backed up and bowed so low, so quickly, one might have thought that he'd lost a contact lens.

The usual crowd liked to have heralds announce them, but Celestia preferred a more personal touch with the common folk. "Hello, my little pony. What is your name?"

"S-slide Rule, Your Grace."

The alicorn smiled and added another tick to the appropriate column of her mental honorific tally. (6,042 this year.) "Please rise, Slide."

He did so with none of the haste with which he bowed. "As you command, milady." (27,311 this year, a favorite of the maids.)

With ease born of long practice, Celestia kept her smile balanced between the unnatural rictus that most smiles degenerated into when held for too long and the schadenfreude-induced smirk that the worst parts of her wanted to display. "Why are you keeping your head down?"

"I'm averting my eyes, milady." (27,312)

"She held back the urge to roll hers. "You don't have to, Slide. It's just the sun you shouldn't look at directly."

"A-as you say, Your Highness." (13,846 this year, a perennial mainstay) Swallowing his awe-filled anxiety, the young accountant brought his gaze up to meet that of the most beautiful and noble pony in the world, she who blurred the line between royalty and divinity.

Celestia added a dash of encouragement and nigh-maternal pride to her smile. "There. I'm quite flattered by your deference, Slide, but I don't want to be worshipped." She shifted a bit, her posture subtly less imposing, more casual. "Where are you from?"

The earth pony felt so relieved that his knees shook with released tension. He'd been terrified of offending the ruler of... of everything. That she would really be as kind as she seemed was almost to good to be true. "San Fratello," he burbled.

She nodded. "Ah. Lovely town, if you don't mind a bit of humidity." Judging by her pleased expression, she didn't. "I hope you aren't finding the mountain air too dry."

Slide Rule shook his head, all nervousness forgotten. "Not with the summer heat. It's lovely."

"I'm glad to hear it. What brought you to Canterlot?"

"Oh, just a business convention, nothing exciting. But when I heard that you would hold an audience with anypony who asked, well, it seemed like the opportunity of a lifetime!"

Genuine delight suffused Celestia. "I'm glad you took it. Now, it's been a pleasure, Slide Rule, but I'm afraid I have a number of other ponies who want to speak with me today. If you have nothing pressing?"

"I..." He looked away, blushing a bit. "Well, it's going to sound foalish—"

"I do not judge those who come before me, my little pony." Alright, that was a bald-faced lie, but she certainly didn't judge those ponies who came to her out of genuine need.

"Well, I just wanted to thank you, Your Majesty." (12,301) Slide kept his eyes down, smiling sheepishly. "I mean, every minute of your every day seems dedicated to making everypony's lives that much better and, well, how often does anypony think to thank you for it?"

The alicorn decided then that today was a good day, provided that it didn't end in spontaneous planar existence failure. "Not very," she admitted, "but I don't do it for thanks. I do it because somepony must, and for a very long time, nopony else could. But that doesn't mean that I don't appreciate it. Thank you, Slide. If only everypony was as considerate as you." The dark whispers this inspired made her suppress a chuckle. Oh yes, that would really nettle the usual suspects. Especially since it was true.

"Um, you're welcome." The stallion looked back up, intent on pressing one last glimpse of the Princess in his memory for as long as he lived. Unfortunately, at that precise moment, the magic elemental began to emerge. As such, Slide Rule's last look at Celestia was the princess terrified, mane crinkled like a bad perm, mouth agape, and gaze fixed on a fractured, impossibly-colored tesseract only she could see.

Spake the Most Holy Bringer of Dawn (Only 12 this year): "Shit."

The terrible, creaking groan chatteringly rose in pitch, apexing as a harsh whine that was felt in the teeth as much as it was heard. This horrendous note was held just longer than anypony found comfortable, then gave way to a deafening crack.

As echoes of this incredible fracture resounded through Ponyville, Rainbow Dash voiced the question on everypony's mind. "What was that?"

"That," intoned Ditzy, "was the sound of the universe breaking under the weight of too much magic in too little space." Ignoring the shouts of alarm this cause, she pointed to the library. "Look."

They looked. After a moment of disbelief, the group realized that there really was a crack in the sky. It began at the crown of the tree, then climbed up like a lightning bolt stopped midstrike. Several hundred feet above the building, the break spiderwebbed outward, forming six jagged lengths of ruptured spacetime. Even as the ponies watched, those cracks began to widen, forming a disturbingly familiar six-pointed star. The sound of the plane breaking apart was gradually supplanted by the howl of air getting sucked into the breach.

Applejack gaped at the display. "How in th' hay d' we fix this?"

Fluttershy was utterly motionless from the neck down. "I'd ask Twilight, but..."

Dash, so frightened that she wasn't even trying to deny it, finished the thought. "She's right under that thing."

Rarity turned to Luna. "What do we do, Your Highness?"

The alicorn shook her head. "I don't know. I've never seen anything like this." She, in turn, deferred to the planeswalkers. "Any ideas?"

Pinkie paled, recognizing a fear laughter couldn't banish. "A rift this advanced... I don't know anything that can stop it."

"I do." All eyes turned to Ditzy Doo, who was tying a stone muffin onto her forehead. Tightening the knot, she appraised the ever-widening rupture. "It won't be easy. It won't be pretty. But Equestria will still be here."

"Then do it!" cried Dash.

"Consider it done." With that, the mailmare raced towards the library, focusing all the power she could through her surrogate horn.

"Mommy!" Dinky chased after her, intent on helping. An indigo aura lifted her above the ground.

"This is something far too dangerous for you, Dinky Doo." Luna turned back to the dilating rift and shuddered. "It may be too dangerous for me."

Dash snorted. "Forget that! No way I'm just gonna sit here and let Ditzy sacrifice herself. C'mon, girls, who's with me?"

"I am!" shouted the filly, still running in place.

"Likewise," said Applejack. "Who knows? Maybe this fancy magic lasso might come in handy."

Angel Bunny glared at Fluttershy, the two holding an unspoken debate in less than second. The pegasus nodded. "We need to be there for her if she needs us."

Rarity nodded. "I couldn't have said it better myself."

Spike bore the most serious expression anypony had ever seen on him. "Not just Ditzy. Twilight, too." His voice rumbled with a faint bass undercurrent.

"You have my axe!" cried Pinkie, having found and donned a fake beard at some point.

The princess of night gazed in wonder and admiration at the sheer bravery on display. She voiced a single self-deprecating chuckle. "A wise and just leader will not ask her subjects to do anything she herself is unwilling to do. Onward then, into the eye of the storm!"

With a cheer, they followed Ditzy's lead.

Meanwhile, the planeswalker's thoughts raced along with her body. She had to time this just right to buy the plane as much time as she could. The rift continued to expand, peeling back layer after layer of reality, flensing away everything that stood between equinity and the Blind Eternities. As Ditzy approached the tree, she saw the crowd of unicorns capering about, celebrating their own destruction in an orgasmic flood of endorphins. In her haste, she barely registered one pony enclosed in a ludicrous telekinesis field, dismissing it as irrelevant.

Past a threshold, her mana sight went insane, the world dissolving into a crazed frenzy of color and sensation. The pegasus didn't care. She let momentum carry her until she couldn't bear the sensory overload anymore. At that point, she relased her failsafe in one enormous burst of magic and will and pure, desperate hope.

Ditzy liked Kamigawa. Even better, Kamigawa liked Ditzy. Bearing the blessing of a myojin made for a superb icebreaker among those who could perceive it, and she made sure to not waste that positive impression. The weather kami appreciated a mortal who could recognize their craftsspiritship. The wizards of the Minamo Academy welcomed a mind both humble and eager for knowledge. The kitsune-bito foxfolk delighted in a wit that could see through their tricks even as they saw through hers.

Indeed, it was thanks to this last group that the pegasus was where she was now; Oboro, the first cloud city she'd seen since leaving Ungula. She could've tried to explore the place earlier, but it was home to the enigmatic, insular soratami moonfolk. According to everyone she asked, they considered any other race's intrusion in their home a crime of the highest order. They were also considered the most skillful mortal users of blue magic on the plane, second only to the kami themselves, which meant that Ditzy planned on paying them a visit regardless.

According to the scholars of Minamo, the moonfolk possessed a graceful, ethereal beauty beyond anything humankind could achieve. The young pony was still puzzling out bipedal mores of appearance, but she supposed skin as pale and luminous as the moon itself and a lithe, elegant build outweighed long, floppy rabbit ears and shifting squiggles instead of eyebrows when it came to comeliness. She wasn't nearly as impressed, the sneering condescension and aloofness of those few soratami she'd met in person reminding her of all the worst qualities of elves and vedalken blended into one vaguely ludicrous species.

In any case, the cloud city wasn't just a potential source for nostalgia and new lore. It was also the perfect testing bed for an innovative illusion she'd just devised. Through study of the considerable kitsune arcana on such spells and her own skills, Ditzy had cobbled together a mystic disguise that altered her appearance based on the expectations of the viewer. If it could fool the soratami, masters of deceptive magic that they were, then it could be considered virtually flawless. If not, well, she had contingencies in place.

The moonfolk's isolationism played directly into her hoof. Because no one expected to encounter a member of another race, they all saw her as one of them. The only sound her passage could logically make was of sandals on cloud, so no one heard hooves. The pony went unnoticed because it was obviously impossible for a pony to be in Oboro in the first place.

It was amazing, Ditzy reflected, how much was both obvious and completely wrong.

She wandered the city for a time, simply enjoying the memories it stirred. This continued until she felt a mental tug and one eye tilted out of alignment to focus on an approaching building. The pegasus smiled. This was an older spell, but still a favorite. It sensed especially potent bits of arcane knowledge and told her where to find them. Purpose filled her stride as, better than invisible, she strode along the thoroughfare and into the ornate edifice.

Once inside, Ditzy took in the scene for a moment. Scroll racks stretched as far as the eye could see, every niche occupied. The entire palatial tower likely followed suit. It made the Great Library at Minamo, considered the ultimate repository of knowledge in the world, look like a rinky-dink branch in the middle of nowhere. She swallowed a developing lump in her throat. Were it not for the doozy detector, she could spend the next ten years poring over the contents of this place and find nothing.

Thankfully, that wasn't the case, one eye staying locked on target. She continued onward, her goal clearly and literally in sight. It was further back, past a door that was cunningly hidden and locked by a series of carefully crafted enchantments. Of course, to the planeswalker's eyes, this meant that it was lit up like a Las Neighgas casino sign. She approached it confidently, not faltering when she noticed that it had an actual guard in addition to the illusory barricade, the warden's true purpose disguised by an innocuously placed reference desk. Ditzy only reacted when the door was not opened for her. Looking imperiously at the soratami, the pegasus raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

The hapless librarian gazed somewhere above the pony's head, where the illusion was staring her down. She blanched as best she could with a complexion that began at moon-pale. "O-of course, Sir."

"Hmph." The grey mare watched dispassionately as the azure lattices of lock and disguise unravelled and the door slid aside. As she continued on, she gave a mental smirk. Act like you have authority, and everyone else will assume that you actually do. Combine that with a disguise that exploits such assumptions and you have a psychological skeleton key.

"Now," she muttered, "where are you?" The room on the other side of the door was a small alcove, clearly a private study rather than the comparative bustle of the main library. Scroll racks still honeycombed the walls, but only about half were filled. A low desk against a side wall and a cushion were the only other furniture.

Ditzy essayed a slow circle, trying to eyeball her quarry as she waited for her spell to reorient. "If I had to guess, you'd be about..." Her left eye skewed to one side, focused on a faintly glowing cylinder. "Right there!" Delighted, she snared the detected doozy in a telekinesis field.

"S-sir!?" The moonfolk she'd cowed into letting her in gasped in surprise.

"Oh crap." The pegasus hastily stuffed her find into her saddlebags. She really should've anticipated something like this.

"Is there a problem, Eriko?" Another voice, male, humorless as a wet cat.

"But... but you— I— He... Oh dear."

Intellectually, Ditzy knew that she had to escape, yet curiosity gnawed at her. What would this second soratami see when he looked at her?

"I understand. Do not blame yourself, Eriko." His tone made it clear that he meant the opposite.

"Yes, Sir..." Eriko's defeated sigh indicated that this unspoken message did not go unnoticed.

The door slid aside. The moonfolk standing in the doorway looked as domineering as he sounded. The sigil on his forehead reshaped itself into an odd, asymmetrical form. "Well, well, well. We meet at last."

A yawning comedy vacuum seemed to open before Ditzy, pulling something funny out of her brain through her tongue to compensate for the sheer level of cheese. "Wow. How long did you spend deciding on the most cliche reaction possible?"

"Hmph." An eyelid gave a single involuntary spasm. "I see your irreverence is as impressive as your spellcraft." The soratami sighed and shook his head. "It is a shame. Has you been born a child of the moon, we might have been colleagues. Perhaps even friends. As it is, you must die." His expression remained composed and disinterested, as though idly discussing the weather.

Ditzy felt a bit more emotionally invested in the matter. "Why?"

She didn't know what the forehead glyph indicated now, but it was probably either "mild surprise" or "slight incredulity". "You are not soratami and you have trod the streets of Oboro. Obviously."

"Oh. Obviously. How silly of me."

Unperturbed – or perhaps failing to register the sarcasm – he nodded. "I'm glad we could come to an understanding."He drew a katana from beneath his ornate attire. To Ditzy's eyes, blue vapor writhed along the edge.

"Quite." With that, she reached down and bit through the pendant hanging from her neck.

Blue smoke burst from it. With an impatient gesture, Kobayashi, loremaster of Oboro, he who meditated atop Untaidake for a year and a day, summoned a gust that cleared the room. There was no indication of an occupant.

"So that was the famed Riku of Two Reflections," muttered the descendant of the great Uyo the Silent. "He is clever, for a human."

Meanwhile, in another cloud of blue smoke, Ditzy rematerialized on the roof of the Minamo Academy. After a quick check to ensure that the scroll was still with her, she gave a sigh of relief. She knew that that seal of removal would make a good escape plan.

"Now," the pegasus muttered, "let's see if you were worth it." She unrolled the document. The ideograms seemed to dance before her eyes as her visual translation spell converted them to the familiar shapes of Equestrian. She recited the title aloud. "On the Currents of Time: A Practical Study." This elicited a low whistle. Chronomancy was serious mojo, one of the most powerful and most dangerous applications of magic. "Oh yeah. Definitely worth it."

Time had stopped.

Ditzy was blind, for photons could not make their way to her retinas. She was deaf, save for the echoing rhythm of her own heartbeat. She was numb, no sensation able to transpire without a duration in which to do so. And yet, for a time without time, she was utterly, horribly aware.

"Well, this is a fine mess you've gotten us into."

At least, that was how it was supposed to work. The sepulchral void of no-time normally didn't contain a mint-green unicorn who seemed split between amusement and irritation.

Heedless of her own impossibility, Lyra continued. "Now, as I said earlier, if these aren't extenuating circumstances, I don't know what are. Still, you've created quite a headache for us unfortunate ponies in spacetime management. Especially since the time part isn't normally my department." She sighed and shook her head. "Well, I guess I can figure this out. Just don't go thinking you can pull this kind of thing whenever you want. The ponies who usually walk this beat seem to think they have a monopoly on timey-wimey horseapples."

With that, she turned and began to walk away, though to where, Ditzy had no idea. The unicorn paused and looked back for a moment. "Oh, and Address says 'Hi.'"

With a sensation like the world releasing a held breath, the flow of time resumed. Ditzy, who had been diving forward when she'd halted it, crashed into the crowd of ponies. To her relief, her mana sight was picking up nothing abnormal. The hiccup in time's flow had allowed everything to start over fresh.

Of course, at the library's output level, that wouldn't mean anything in a short time. She had to clear out the unicorns while they were still lucid. She collected herself, offered a few quick apologies, then shouted, "Everypony get out of here!"

"Why?"

Ditzy bit back a scream. Why were ponies so easily panicked except when you needed them to be!? She looked around, spotted her approaching friends, and stabbed a hoof at Luna. "Royal decree! Official visit! Make way!"

"You're not a guard."

"I'm undercover."

Several ponies back, there came a call of "Isn't that Derpy Hooves?"

"Deep undercover." The pegasus felt ready to mind crush the next wise guy, but she relaxed when she felt a gentle hoof on her shoulder. She turned and beheld a smiling princess of the night.

"Let me handle this," Luna whispered. Then, following a deep breath, she shifted to the Royal Canterlot Voice. "CITIZENS OF PONYVILLE! WE HAVE COME TO THINE HUMBLE VILLAGE TO PAY OUR RESPECTS TO SHE WHO MARSHALED THE FORCES OF HARMONY AND EXPUNGED US OF OUR DARK POWERS! WE BESEECH THEE, GIVE US LEAVE!"

Those unicorns who weren't blasted away through sheer volume quickly made themselves scarce. The alicorn nodded in approval. "It was first made for crowd control, you know."

"I didn't know that! But why are you whispering now!?"

The princess grinned bashfully. "I guess I should have given you some warning first."

"That would've been nice!"

"I'll just heal your ears..."

As Luna did so, the others gathered by them. "Way to go, Ditzy!" cheered Rainbow Dash.

"Y' sure showed that magic elemethingy who's boss," Applejack enthused.

"Yay, Mommy!"

"Huh?" The grey mare looked to each pony in turn, confusion clear. "That was just a breach of space-time."

"Are you certain?" Trixie trotted into view. "I distinctly heard something along the lines of 'Magic comes' just before all the sound and fury."

Pinkie giggled. "Oh, you silly fillies. That wasn't the magic elemental."

Dash groaned, exasperated. "Then what is?"

The blonde planeswalker began to answer, then noticed the luminous white ring at her feet. "Oh, fu—" Then, she vanished.

In her place, something swooped out of the library. It looked more like a storybook drawing than a pony. It didn't have hair, just an outer layer of surreal iridescence. Its legs were thin, boneless things that tapered to points and clearly shouldn't have supported its weight, much of its body similarly emaciated. The mane and tail flowed like those of an alicorn, floating and waving in an unfelt breeze, but unlike a princess's coiffure, they had no defined end, instead slowly fading to nothing like evaporating mist. The horn was massive, as large and long as the rest of its head, parting the mane like a stone in a river. The eyes were also disproportionate, great glowing things that took up half of the entity's face. Most ominous were the flanks, exaggerated like a primitive fertility idol's, each emblazoned with a six-pointed star cutie mark.

Twilight Sparkle smiled. She then spoke in an earthshaking whisper. "To answer your question, Dash: I am."

Twilight, Æthertwisted WUBRG
Legendary Enchantment Creature — Unicorn
Flying, protection from abilities
Whenever a player casts a spell, regenerate Twilight, Æthertwisted. If you cast that spell, draw a card.
Spells you cast cost 1 less to cast for each card you've drawn this turn.
"My metamorphosis is complete. A new age is at hoof."
2/4

I Am Magic Given Flesh
Scheme
When you set this scheme in motion, reveal cards from the top of your library until you reveal a nonland card. You may cast that card without paying its mana cost. If you don't, put it into your hand. Put the rest on the bottom of your library in any order.
"Reality is whatever I tell it to be."

Power Creep

Spike spoke first. "Twilight? Is that really you?"

"In the flesh." The bizarre creature tilted its head in thought. "Well, actually I've transcended organic tissue and am now composed of an exotic form of condensed magical energy, but yes, it's me."

"What did you do to Ditzy Doo?" demanded Luna.

"I just put her where she can't hurt anypony and nopony can hurt her." She swept her gaze over the others contemplatively. "I don't think any of you realize just how dangerous that mare is. Do you know what she just did? She stopped time. Do you have any idea how disastrous that could've been if she hadn't done it flawlessly?"

"Of course," answered the alicorn. "You don't think it was by sheer luck that there were no adverse effects, do you?"

As Twilight puzzled over this, Applejack saw fit to add, "An' t' be fair, th' only reason she did all that was 'cause y' broke the sky."

The shimmering creature dismissed this with a toss of her mane. "I would've fixed it."

"Uh huh." The farmer waxed plaintive. "Twi, look at yerself. This ain't healthy. This ain't natural."

"Not natural. Oh. Well." The sarcasm practically dripped from the mutated mare's words. "I suppose I should just turn myself back into meat. And while we're at it, let's tear down Ponyville and go poop in a field. You know, since we're being so natural."

"That ain't what Ah mean an' you know it!"

Rarity stepped in before tempers could flare any worse. "Really now, Twilight, you're being most unreasonable. Surely you can understand our concern."

"That's the thing. I really can't." This confession made the others stare in shock. She met the incredulity with a puzzled stare of her own. "What? Before, my special talent was magic. Now? Now I am magic! How could this be anything but fantastic?"

"'Cause you broke the sky when you woke up?" offered Dash.

"I told you, I would have fixed it."

"And if you couldn't?" posited Rarity.

"I could."

Luna raised an eyebrow. "How do you know?"

Twilight growled. The ground shook a bit. A few leaves fluttered off of the library. "I'm magic. I don't have to explain myself. Really, girls, I thought you'd be happy for me."

"Happy?" echoed Pinkie. "Happy that one of my bestest best friends ever has turned herself into a freaky monster pony?"

The parody of a unicorn gasped. "You're absolutely right! I'm such a foal!" She shook her head, astonished at her own stupidity. "It's so obvious now. You're all jealous."

"Jealous!?" cried everypony (and Spike.)

"Of course! Who could blame you? Well don't you worry, girls. I can transform each and every one of you into an expression of your Element. Sorry, Spike."

The young dragon scratched his chin for a moment. "Can you create gemstones?"

Twilight's glowing eyes squinted shut in delight. "Sure!" A diamond the size of the hatchling's head appeared in his arms.

"I'm okay with thish," he proclaimed, drool slurring the last word as he tottered into the library, wanting to be alone with his new friend/meal.

Luna sighed at the mercenary nature of dragons in general, then turned to the benefactor. "Tell me then, Twilight Sparkle: Do you think me jealous of your newfound potency?"

The distorted mare scoffed at this. "Of course not! That would be ridiculous. No, you're threatened."

The alicorn recoiled like she'd been struck. "Excuse me?"

"Well," reasoned Twilight, "an incarnation of magic itself? The force on which Equestria was built, with a will of its own? What ruler wouldn't feel threatened?" She bowed to the princess. "I promise you, Your Highness, I am and shall remain a loyal, faithful subject of Equestria."

Luna frowned. "Then cease this foalishness before you destroy us all!"

This produced a sigh. "You can't still be upset about one little spacial rift, can you? I know how to keep them from forming now."

The Mare of the Moon was adamant. "Twilight Sparkle, you have become an entity whose very existence in Equestria should not be possible. You must return to the pony you once were or our world will be beset by unfathomable upheaval."

"But that's precisely why I—"

"No buts!" Luna's tone was now within an inch of the Royal Canterlot Voice. "As your princess, indeed, as one who was once herself seduced by the promise of power, I command you to turn from this path while you still can!"

Twilight was horrified. "You... you're comparing me to Nightmare Moon?"

"Hate t' say it, sugarcube, but Ah kin see 'er point," confessed Applejack. The other Bearers nodded solemnly.

"But I... I just... All of you?" The surreal being shed a single glowing tear. Where it fell, a flower never before seen in Equestria, in all of Ungula, sprouted and blossomed. "I see," she said flatly. "Very well then."

Everypony relaxed a little.

"You don't believe me just because I say I can handle it? Fine. I can sympathize. Obviously, I'll just have to give you a practical demonstration."

That killed off the sense of relief quite nicely. "How?" squeaked Fluttershy.

Twilight's horn limned itself in shining gold. "Well first," she replied, "I have to make sure that there aren't any more interruptions."

After a brief, nearly blinding flare of light, each of the Bearers found herself wearing her Element. Luna gasped. "Th-those were sealed in Canterlot Tower! Only Celestia can access them!"

The living spell shrugged. "Magic. Okay, magic and a sympathetic bond between the living and nonliving components of each Element. Now..." With a thought, she sent out another pulse of power. Then there were no complaints, no protestations, no disapproving expressions. No speech or movement of any kind, actually, but Twilight has always appreciated peace and quiet.

"Now I'm sure that at least a few of you are wondering what just happened," lectured the ethereal egghead. She then paused, her curiosity piqued. Her horn glimmered momentarily and she nodded to herself. "Alright then. That's Rainbow Dash and Applejack for 'what,' Luna for 'how,' Fluttershy and Rarity for 'what now,' and Pinkie wanted the number three combo with curly fries and a large ginger ale." The aberration paused at this, sighed, and shook her head. "Somehow I'm not surprised.

"Anyway, much as there exists a bond between the different aspects of a single Element of Harmony, so too are there bonds that stretch from each of them to each of the others. Furthermore, a similar bond is established to each previous user and target." Twilight paused, turned to one immobile form, and glared. "I am getting to the point, Dash, be patient! Now where was I? Oh, right.

"So, by exploiting those bonds, I'm able to perform magic on each of you almost effortlessly while bypassing any and all magical defenses, both internal and external, that might stand in the way!" She smiled, quite pleased at her own ingenuity. "Oh, and don't worry, Luna. I haven't paralyzed Celestia. I just created a sort of blind spot in her more magical senses. She won't notice anything going wrong." The heliotrope being's voice began to grow more clipped and frantic. "Not that anything is going wrong, of course! But if it was, I could fix it, and she wouldn't ever have to know about it, and we'd all! Be! Happy!"

After a beat, Twilight recognized her increasing mania and cleared her throat. "So, any questions?"

As Twilight had made her entrance, Luna had sent a thought at her own student. Trixie. Take Dinky. Run. Now.

The showmare didn't waste time asking questions. Filly in telekinetic tow, she fled.

Of course, Dinky was less than pleased with this arrangement. "Miss Trixie, what are you doing? We've got to save Mommy and Miss Twilight!"

"Sorry, Dinky," huffed the older unicorn, "Luna's orders."

"Then her orders are stupid!"

"Still a princess." After that, Trixie gave no response to the filly's entreaties. Of course, that didn't close the matter. It just necessitated a change of tactics.

Physically struggling against a unicorn's telekinesis is like trying to pull a sheet of paper in half; it can work, but there are vastly more efficient ways of accomplishing the same result. Dinky stumbled onto one of them by surrounding herself with as much magic as she could muster. This amounted to a thin skin of energy, but it still covered her entire body. More importantly, it allowed her to drift out of Trixie's magic like a drop of water sinking through oil. Once fully outside of the other pony's power, Dinky dropped, landed on her hooves, and galloped back towards the library.

Of course, she wasn't able to do this silently, and Trixie certainly noticed the sound of retreating hoofbeats. The showmare turned, groaned, and cried, "Dinky, we don't have time for this!" Getting no response, she magically reached for the filly again. However, before the blue unicorn could get a grip on her target, she was herself the subject of a spell; one that abruptly plucked her from where she was, leaving nothing but a small clap of air as it refilled the pony-shaped hole.

Dinky paid it no mind, continuing her charge. Every four steps, her necklace pulsed, a crystalline metronome with which she would conduct her mother's rescue. Somehow.

"Where am I?" Ditzy quickly realized that this was entirely the wrong sort of question. Her surroundings were akin to the sensory void of stopped time, but approached from the other direction; rather than having no time to experience anything, here there was nothing to experience. Inasmuch as "here" had any meaning.

"Hmm..." The planeswalker tested her mana bonds. They were there, but incredibly attenuated. Definitely not enough to 'walk out of this unspace. Even if she could, could she find home again before Twilight tore it apart? She might be able to undo the spell that had put her here, but doing so from this side could very well leave her stranded.

Ditzy groaned. "No good options."

"Then wait."

The pegasus went still. Outside of dreams, she hadn't heard that voice for almost four years. She slowly turned, or perhaps the expanse rotated around her. Hesitantly, as though voicing her hope would destroy it, she asked, "Address?"

The stallion smiled. "Hey there, Derpy Girl."

"Stud Muffin..."

For the sake of privacy (and to avoid any more pet names,) the narrator will leave the couple to their reunion.

Trixie reappeared just as abruptly as she vanished, though now she stood face-to-face with Twilight. Well, face-to-elbow, really, but the showmare quickly adjusted her gaze. The magic elemental looked back. The distortion of her form left her unreadable, her thoughts a complete engima. The blue unicorn found the uncertainty even worse than the fear. Who knew what this entity was thinking, what it was capable of? Did it even think as a pony thought anymore? Just how screwed was she?

"In order," answered Twilight, "'Oh good, the summoning worked,' anything, for now, and it depends."

Fear made a commendable comeback in Trixie's mind. "I-it depends on what?"

The arcane creature no longer had eyelids, but something slightly occluded the pair of glowing ovals on its head from below. Its voice sounded... amused? "Well, I seem to recall a certain pony trying to wake me up with various oaths so she could challenge me to a duel."

Panic surged ahead of both frontrunners. "Eh heh, well, I, uh, I wasn't in my right mind at the time, you see..."

Twilight tilted her head a bit. "Oh? Well, that's a shame. You see, according to the Duchess of Hocksbury rules of wizard dueling – which have never been repealed – the challenger cannot retract any challenge made in the name of Honor, regardless of the circumstances in which the challenge was made. Similarly, any challenge made in the name of Magic must be carried out as soon as equinely possible, permitting delays only for illness or other physical incapacitation."

Trixie gulped. "Um, that summoning was awfully disorienting. A-are you sure you did it totally correctly, or just enough to get by?"

The warped pony glared. Of that, anypony could be certain. "One hundred percent precision, down to the molecule. If there was a single hair out of place, I would know. And there isn't."

"Ah. I see." The showpony had enough experience with a bruised ego to recognize it from the other end. "I never meant to insult your capabilities, of course. Just taking a few reasonable precautions." A thought occurred to her. "Um, about that last challenge..."

There came the amused look again. "Oh, right. That one. There aren't any special rules for that one. Not unless you'd like to declare some."

The blue unicorn balked. Was... was that supposed to be a suggestive look? Oh dear Celestia, what was it meant to suggest? "I, uh, I don't think I–" She cut herself off as inspiration struck. "Actually, I do. It may not seem thematically appropriate, but I declare that a challenge made in the name of... that in the name of which I made the challenge means that the loser must submit to a single request of the victor's choice!"

Twilight pondered this for a moment, then bowed her head. "Very well. Given the obvious disparity in sheer power, it is only right that you be given the privilege of first spell." She shut her eyes, leaving her head utterly featureless. "You may fire when ready." A thin line of radiance reignited. "Oh, and don't think about running away. I don't need my eyes to see." The light winked out.

Trixie was, by this point, shaking in her hooves. There stood everything that had gone wrong with her life, monolithic, uncaring, insurmountable. It had upstaged her, shamed her, ruined her, and that was before it had become a thing out of nightmares. And now? Now it was openly mocking her, daring her to take her best shot, knowing full well that she wouldn't even leave a scratch. There stood Celestia's faithful student, who she had deluded herself into thinking of as a rival. An archrival, even. Ha! Like their respective tutors, she would forever be the lesser, the minor, the pale reflection of true glory and power.

But, noted some spark of hope that refused to be smothered by angst, hadn't Nightmare Moon imprisoned Celestia in the sun? Didn't Luna say how Her true strengths lay not in brute force but finesse? In the story of the eclipse, doesn't the moon block out the sun, however briefly?

"Just so you know, I can wait all day," advised Twilight. "Unlike some ponies, I don't need to eat. Or sleep."

"Just strategizing is all," answered Trixie. With that, she shut her eyes and focused, intent on a plan that might just possibly work. Fog billowed out of her horn, wreathing itself about the two duelists and the living statues that bore witness to the clash. In short order, however, nothing was bearing witness to anything. The dense mist stayed penned in around its creator, forming a dome of cloud cover at the base of the library.

The living spell was less than impressed. "Well, points for not immediately resorting to a big flashy attack spell. However, you seem to have forgotten the whole 'I don't need eyes to see' thing." She searched along more esoteric senses, muttering to herself as she did so. "Hmm. You've made the fog radiate energy such that it obscures magic detection much as it does sight. Nice. Reflective across most of the EM spectrum, and where it isn't, it doesn't matter. Well done. And judging by the echolocation profile, you're hiding in somepony's sonic shadow. I'd say you've covered all of the bases, Trixie. Of course, I can just summon you again."

What then happened to Twilight can be experienced firsthand by reaching down your throat and through your digestive tract, grabbing your coccyx, and pulling. It was quite fortunate that the mist was obscuring sight, because this action did some very rude and untoward things to space and sanity.

The warped creature's reaction, once she unknotted herself, was not what Trixie was hoping for. She laughed. Uproariously. "You magnificent witch! You didn't make the fog magic-opaque, you made it magic-reflective! I'm just radiating so much that I couldn't tell. You got me to summon myself! Outstanding!" The burst of mirth abated somewhat, down to chuckling. "That would've pulled my organs out through my horn if I still had any. Still, I have to wonder how you're going to do anything. You're as subject to this stuff as I..." She sensed a change in the air. "Am?"

After a moment, Twilight corrected herself. Not just a change, a charge. Her hair would've been standing on end had she not experienced the ultimate depilatory. As it was, she could still feel the palpable sense of expectation and faint whiff of ozone. "I see," she mused. "Don't try to cast through the fog. Cast into the fog. You really thought this out, didn't you?" She sussed out the shape of the energy distribution and gave an impressed whistle. "Wow, and you're making sure that nopony else will get shocked. Thanks, that's actually really thoughtful of you."

Trixie didn't waste any time with the frustration this incongruous praise provoked. She just shoved it into the lightning, along with her hope, her insecurity, and all her anger. From neck to horntip, her head felt like it was going to explode from the scale of her efforts. Finally, satisfied that she could do no more, she let loose.

The entire dome of cloud flared like a flashbulb. A deafening point-blank thunderclap shattered every window in the library and most in nearby houses. Spike almost looked up from his glorious crystalline feast.

Amid sparking aftershocks, there came a steady beat of hooves on earth. Twilight was giving slow applause, a circle of energy compensating for the thinness of her limbs. "Well, that was invigorating. And quite beautiful, in a dramatic, retina-searing kind of way." She looked around, mist as far as the eye could see, which was a few feet. "Very well done, Trixie. Your strategy was virtually flawless. As I said earlier, you really covered all the bases here." With that, she delivered one last stomp. The haze was blasted outward and rapidly dissipated, leaving the showmare exposed in her hiding spot behind Pinkie Pie. "Unfortunately," continued the mutant, "I can just wreck the stadium." She levitated the silver-maned unicorn into view. "This has been fun, but I've got an itinerary planned out for today, and I'm afraid the time I had allotted for this little spar has run out."

Trixie's mind grasped at the first straw within reach. "So you're just going to abandon the etiquette of the duel?"

"Please. We both know that there hasn't been a proper wizard's duel in almost two hundred years. Not since the days of Red Vinegar the Vituperative. Also, it's pretty obvious that you can't win. Your technique really is quite good, and you managed to surprise me once, but I'm as far out of your league as I can get without being in a different sport. I don't think either of us wants to keep embarrassing you by pretending that you have a chance."

Something important in Trixie, something that had endured scorn, shame, and indifference, broke against this casual dismissal. She wilted in her rival's magical grip. "I'm sorry I wasn't worthy of you, Twilight Sparkle."

Twilight no longer had a stomach, but guilt still twisted where the organ used to be. "To be fair, I did have a pretty unfair advantage. Normally, you'd have really given me a run for my money. Of course, normally, you wouldn't have been casting spells with lethal intent. Um, hopefully. Yeah..." She awkwardly scratched at the ground with a legtip for a moment. "Anyway, I've kind of got a lot to do today, so..."

"Go ahead."

The resignation in those words hurt worse than any amount of electricity could. "For what it's worth, I... I hope we can be friends after this."

Trixie looked at the distorted librarian in disbelief. "Unless you're also a medium, I'm not sure how."

Twilight was taken aback. "What? I'm not going to kill you! I may be a transcendent expression of arcane power, but I'm not a monster!"

"Then what are you going to do?"

"This."

Trixie was consumed in a puff of white smoke. When it cleared, her view was strangely distorted and tinted. She realized that she was looking through tinted plastic. She then took better stock of her surroundings: water bottle, exercise wheel, cedar chips... "You turned me into a hamster?" The possibly-a-rodent gave a silent sigh of relief. She hadn't been sure if she could still speak until after the fact. Strangely, her voice sounded the same as before.

The mystic equinoid's head came into view, looming large. "Not exactly." Her voice thrummed through her captive's body. "There should be a mirror in there."

There was. It was circular. So was Trixie, for the most part. Stubby little limbs, floppy little ears, a pathetic little horn, disturbingly large eyes... "What am I?"

"Adorable!" Twilight's eyes had almost squinted shut in delight. "I always wanted to try out this spell, but Spike hates it when I try to polymorph him. Don't worry, Trixie. Once I've finished everything I need to take care of, I'll change you back. Until then, just relax." With a thought, she sent the blue chubbie into the library.

The shimmering being nodded to herself, satisfied. "Well, that's taken care of. Yup, no harm done, no feelings hurt, no psychological trauma endured on either end, and definitely no erosion of sanity whatsoever." Twilight no longer had a nervous system. That made the twitch even more worrisome than normal. "Now, what's next? Oh, right! I never got around to explaining why I wanted to take advantage of this thaumic spike. Silly me!"

She stalked among her friends' immobilized forms. "You see, girls, I've been doing research. Important research." She stopped in front of Applejack. "Of course, some of you didn't care about that. You just wanted to know if I'd eaten and bathed and other petty concerns of the weak flesh." She gave a deranged grin, forming a mouth just for the occasion, and resumed her pacing. "But now that you're a, heh, captive audience, I'll tell you my findings." She glanced towards Dash. "Don't worry, Rainbow, I'll restrict myself to uneggheaded terms. And yes, 'uneggheaded' is a word. As of now."

She grew serious. "Something big is coming, girls. Something that I'm not sure if we can stop. But now?" Twilight gave a dangerous chuckle. "Now I don't know if it can stop me."

The edges of her body briefly became indistinct, as though she was a dissolving mirage. "Oh. Doesn't look like it can. Temporal omnipresence, now there's something to look into." The grin returned. "Oh wait. I have."

She blurred again. "Wait, what?" Fulgent eyes widened in precognitive horror. "What!?" The dreamy aurora of her coat fractured into a garish tie-dye disaster. "Where is she?" Where's the filly who can ruin everything?" Above such petty concerns as causality, she gave herself the answer a moment later.

What Twilight did then wasn't exactly teleporting, per se. There was no flash or sound. In the space of a thought, she simply wasn't where she'd been. Instead, she was behind Fluttershy, glaring at the one hurdle between her and full omnipotence. "Hiiii, Dinky."

The filly yelped and spun, her hiding place rendered null and void. "H-hi, Miss Twilight."

A glowing circle of runes formed around the young unicorn. "Nothing personal, Dinky," Twilight said conversationally. "It's just that you're the one pony who could stop me."

Fear, hope, and confusion wrestled with one another in the child's mind. How could somepony like her stop magic itself?

The glowing entity stopped herself, aghast. "Wait, what am I doing!?" She telekinetically grabbed the blonde foal and moved her further away from her pink-maned hiding place. "I'm so sorry, Fluttershy, I wasn't thinking. You could've been caught in the area of effect! I promise I'll make it up to you tomorrow. It'll be a spa treatment the likes of which the Lotus sisters can only dream about." Satisfied, she turned back to the filly. "Now, where were we?"

Dinky paid her no mind. Her thoughts were consumed with a question paradoxically complex in its simplicity: How do you stop magic? As the oblivion ring reformed beneath her, the final piece of the puzzle snapped into place. The answer, for all of the esoteric reasoning and bizarre leaps of logic needed to reach it, was as simple as the riddle. Triumphant, she recited the solution: "Magic must defeat magic."

The mox lotus on her necklace burst into full crystalline bloom. Mana coursed through her body like water in the sea, light from the sun. Ceaseless. Unbounded. Infinite.

The weak point of the closing circle became obvious. With a thought and a pittance of energy, the entire construct was negated.

"What the!?" Twilight threw up a facade of fury, but Dinky saw the truth before the mutated bookworm could hide it: She was afraid.

That said, that fear was being channeled very constructively. The filly could feel how space was distorting itself around her, preparing to reject her existence outright. Fortunately, it was a simple matter to put a membrane of energy between her and the various instances of magical doom. Once they fully formed, they petered out against the spell-impermeable surface.

As they did so, their target was still deep in thought. Now that she knew the weak point of the banishment spell as it was being cast, it should've been a relatively simple matter to extrapolate an exploitable weakness for a fully formed one. Twilight had even been considerate enough to offer one on which the hypothesis could be tested.

An indefinite time later, after they had cleared out the most sickening of the toxins built up over years of separation, the spouses floated in each other's forelegs, reveling in the simple joy of the other's presence.

Eventually, Address murmured, "You're going to have to go soon."

Ditzy held him tighter. "Don' wanna."

"Neither do I, but we can't stop it."

"Then I'll come back."

"No."

She looked at him in shock. "What?"

He smiled. "Address unknown. No such pony. No such zone."

As Ditzy faded from the realm of nonexistence, she beamed in return and nodded her understanding. "Return to sender."

Twilight felt an unpleasant mental twinge as her spellcraft unravelled. "What!?" She whirled around just in time to receive a buck to the face courtesy of Ditzy Doo. Reeling from the blow, the transformed unicorn abruptly vanished.

The pegasus beheld her daughter. Her eyes were like floodlamps, her mane floated as though underwater, and her horn glowed so brightly that it was probably painful to look at even without mana sight. "Dinky?"

The filly smiled ecstatically. "Mommy!" Her next action could only be described as a glomp. "Guess what? I'm the only pony who can stop Crazy Monster Twilight!"

Something caught Ditzy's eye. There was a magic wand on each of Dinky's flanks, much like Trixie's cutie mark. However, rather than a contrail of glittering magic, these wands each produced only a single guttering spark. "Countermagic," muttered the planeswalker. In more excited terms, she cried, "Muffin, your special talent is countermagic!"

Her daughter nodded proudly. "Magic must defeat magic."

"Well, that explains a lot." Twilight returned to visibility (Corporeality? Existence?) several dozen feet above the Doos, rage evident from her roiling mane and the psychedelic aura swirling around her. "I was trying to be gentle before, but I guess you two just can't appreciate that sort of thing. Fine. No more Miss Nice Transpony. You're both going to find out what happens when you make magic angry."

Dinky quailed at this, but felt an odd warmth and confidence fill her. She noticed a wing over her body, and looked to her mother. The grey mare grinned confidently, her eyes glowing blue. "Well, my little voidmage, I think it's time your mommy showed you what she did before she became a mailpony."

Ditzy Doo 1WU
Planeswalker — Ditzy
+1: Choose any number of target players. Each of those players draws a card.
0: You gain 1 life for each card in your hand.
-6: Put X 1/1 white Pegasus creature tokens with flying onto the battlefield, where X is your life total.
2

Dinky Doo, Spellbreaker WU
Legendary Creature — Unicorn Child
As long as you control a Ditzy, Dinky Doo, Spellbreaker has hexproof, is indestructible, and can't be sacrificed.
X: Counter target noncreature spell with converted mana cost X or destroy target enchantment with converted mana cost X.
She undoes magic as quickly and easily as her mother undoes muffins.
0/1

Up and Down, Over and Through

Twilight wasn't flying per se. She was just standing there, kept aloft only through sheer contempt for gravity. Ditzy found it vaguely insulting. She couldn't quite her hoof on why, though...

The pegasus dismissed the thought. She had more important concerns right now, like the assortment of very unpleasant spells the ethereal being was preparing. The planeswalker had reentered reality with her mana reserves refreshed, so it was the work of a moment to erect a shimmering energy bubble around her and her daughter. Speaking of whom... "Dinky, hold still."

The filly complied and felt a weight settle on her head. "What's this?"

"A special helmet," answered Ditzy, ignoring the hiss and spit of magic trying to pierce her barrier. "It'll keep you safe while you help me take down Twilight."

The young unicorn beamed. "You're gonna let me help fight a monster?"

Her mother grimaced. "I don't like it, but I'd be a foal to refuse. Focus on keeping her from doing anything, okay?"

"I'll do my best."

"It's all I can ask for."

The duo turned their attention back to Twilight. The glowing being was attempting to burrow through the thin field with a continuous beam of energy. She wasn't making any visible progress, but mark her words, she would breach the flimsy barricade. Eventually.

Ditzy gestured towards the ray. "If you would?"

Dinky nodded, then clenched her eyes shut in focus. The reddish-gold lance of energy fell apart like the fuse of a firework, collapsing in a line of blue sparks from its far end to its point of origin at the Bearer's distended horn.

The elder blonde smiled proudly. "Well done, Muffin." With that, the bubble popped and its creator became invisible.

Twilight sneered. "You think I can't still see you?"

"Stands to reason," came the reply, a few inches from the entity's ear.

"Wha—" The altered unicorn turned just in time to get another hoof to the face, this one glowing white. She was slow to shake it off. It wasn't whatever magic Ditzy had put on her hooves. Oh, that stung, sure, but it hadn't done any lasting damage. No, it was simple confusion that stalled her. After all, the pegasus's magic seemed to be coming from ground level, and yet there she was—

"Right behind you." The magic elemental took a sucker buck to the back of the head, the region flaring in cold heat like concentrated peppermint oil.

Turning, Twilight saw only a grey blur in her peripheral vision. "How are you—" Another blow, this one to the spine. "This shouldn't be—" A gut shot that would've knocked the breath out of her had she had any. "At least let me finish—" A swat to the rump as painful as it was awkward.

"ENOUGH!" A spherical blast wave surged out from the living spell, promising a painful demise to all who came in contact with it.

It abruptly vanished to the sounds of a triggered whoopie cushion and a giggling filly.

Before the glowing creature could focus on this new insolence, she found herself at the center of a coordinated assault that shouldn't have been possible for just one mare. Nonetheless, strikes came from every conceivable angle and a few others besides. Twilight's entire body felt consumed in harmless but painful frozen fire.

She managed to a put a stop to the onslaught by effecting a change too subtle to notice until it was too late. With a thought, she rendered her body gelatinous and sticky. An instant later, another blow landed, but it couldn't take off afterwards. The transformed pony grinned down at her assailant, now trapped hoof-deep in her breastbone. The planned gloat died on her lips as she took it in. "What."

It had the right color scheme in general, grey and yellow, and it was the right sort of shape if you didn't look too closely. However, whatever it was, it really couldn't be mistaken for a pony unless moving very fast and/or seen only peripherally. Even as Twilight stared at the curious thing, it crumbled apart, as much from the weight of her scrutiny as her aura of ruinous energy.

As the last few flakes of the phantasm faded away, the shimmering equinoid gave a frustrated snort. "Enough tricks."

"I thought you were all about tricks."

Twilight released a savage pulse of electricity, filling the area around her with deadly voltage in less than an eyeblink. Aside from the smell of ozone, nothing seemed to happen.

"Ventriloquism spell," noted Ditzy's voice.

There was a moment of brilliance amidst the twisted mare's building rage. It would be the work of a moment to grab the output matrix and pull, yanking the pegasus by the audio conduit and into her hooves.

That was the theory. The execution went as planned, save that it sent the wrong Doo flying towards her. Eyes wide, Twilight noticed how the conduit had been threaded through Dinky. She also found herself locked in place until the filly landed on her face and grabbed on with all four legs. Then the younger unicorn started chanelling antimagic into the mutated unicorn's forehead.

As the living spell flailed in pain and panic, Ditzy whispered smugly into her ear. "I'm not as dumb as I look, Twilight. Before, you caught me off-guard and exhausted. I've passed out three times in the past twenty-four hours, twice from mana exhaustion. But now? Now that you've been kind enough to give me a breather outside of time and space, I'm feeling fresh and dewy. And while you've been distracted, I've been tinkering with this paralysis spell of yours. And the best part?"

"She had assistance."

Twilight stopped thrashing, despite what felt like a even-hungrier-than-usual parasprite trying to eat its way to her brain. Pain was easily ignored when faced with the impossibility now before her. With Dinky distracted, she was able to transpose herself and get a better view. Of course, that left the filly unsupported in midair, but another flying pony quickly caught her, though it wasn't her mother.

Nightmare Moon smiled at her fellow aberration, foal in tow. "Hello, Twilight Sparkle. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Moments earlier...

The true test of any immortal being is boredom. Each develops his or her own defenses against it. Quite a few revel in the continual excitement of insanity. Others cultivate civilizations as a mortal would care for a pet or a houseplant. And some, usually when presented with no other option, take up meditation.

After a millennium of lunar exile, Luna had become very good at meditation. She'd also become quite skilled at insanity, but that didn't seem particularly constructive at the moment. Instead, with her body immobilized, she decided to wander the corridors of her own mind, contemplating her possible courses of action.

At the moment, her mental avatar was lying on the idea of a grassy knoll beneath a night sky that was technically more real than the one above Equestria. The alicorn nibbled at the concept of grass, ruminating as she ruminated.

"Out of ideas?"

Luna started, scrambling to her hooves. "Who is there?" This was her place of utmost privacy, her sanctum sanctorum. Who else would dare enter? Who else could?

"Oh, relax. Hard as it may be to believe, I mean no harm. I just thought we should take this opportunity to talk."

The princess thought she recognized the voice, but... No. No, that was impossible. "Show yourself!"

"Well, since you asked so nicely." A patch of air dimmed into visibility, forming itself into a taller, blacker, snootier alicorn. She bore a wry grin. "Hello, Luna."

The redeemed pony backed away from her dark alter ego. "No. This is impossible. You shouldn't exist anymore."

"And yet here I am." Nightmare Moon's smile broadened. "I'd like to think that we're a sufficiently rational being not to question the evidence at hoof."

"You do not speak for me!"

The dragon-eyed mare sighed. "Look, we clearly have some trust issues to work out, but right now, I need you to believe me when I say that I'm as sane as you are.

Luna considered this for a moment. "I fear that that says more about me than you."

"Look, I really don't want to cause eternal night or banish Tia to the sun or rule over ponykind with an iron hoof or any of that other nonsense. I've seen the wonders of the modern world through your eyes. I've seen how the ponies of today love the night. I heard the joyous hymns the stars sang to celebrate our return. Why would I want to throw all of that away for another millennium lost to hubris and imprisonment?"

Luna eyed her counterpart suspiciously. "Then why are you even here?"

"As I said, I felt we should take the opportunity to talk. You can't hear me when your attention is directed outward. At the very least, you deserve to know that I'm still here."

"Fine, you're here. Anything else?"

"Princess?"

Both moonponies turned to face the pegasus, surprise hidden beneath near-identical masks of regal composure. As one, they said, "Ah, Ditzy Doo. What brings you here?" Luna then directed an incredulous glare at an amused Nightmare Moon.

The planeswalker chose to ignore their antics. "Long story. The point is, I'm trying to undo Twilight's binding spell, and you should be the easiest to free."

"Oh?" inquired both princesses. Luna scowled at the synchronicity. "Stop that!"

"We're largely one and the same. Our actions are going to match up on a fairly regular basis."

"But, but you... I... we... Ugh!" The smaller alicorn pressed her face into the imagined turf.

Nightmare Moon brought her attention back to Ditzy. "You were saying?"

"Um, right." The grey mare coughed into a fetlock as she collected her thoughts. "It all hinges on how you've been on both ends of the Elements of Harmony. If we use that contrast of Bearer and Target as a lever, it should pry off your bonds like a stubborn jar lid."

The helmeted princess nodded. "That would likely work, yes. How do we go about employing this lever?"

"We'd need to bring representatives of the two concepts together as one," reasoned Ditzy. "I... guess you two could just hoofshake?"

"Worth a try." Nightmare nudged her other self. "Come on, Lulu."

"No."

"This is no time for foalishness."

"Everything I hated about myself is back and she's disturbingly similar to the rest of me."

The darker night princess frowned, a hint of her old haughtiness creeping into her voice. "The distilled essence of your darkest aspects is willing to step forward and rescue your sovereign nation, and yet you are not. There, that is a difference between us. One you seem to be embracing."

Luna brought her face out of the dreamsod. "But—"

"But what?" barked her other self. "This is Equestria's time of need. This is a chance to be a true hero to your people. Are you really going to spend this crisis wallowing in your own self-loathing, or are you going to pony up and act like a monster-bucking moon goddess?"

The smaller princess brought herself to all fours. "You're right. It's time to put away the past. To kick pity to the curve and move beyond the regrettable. WHO IN OUR NAME DOST THOU THINK WE ARE!?"

Nightmare Moon grinned and stuck out a foreleg. "Hoofbump!"

"Hoofbump!"

Wisely, Ditzy had backed out of Luna's mind before they made contact.

The scintillating mare gawked at the alicorn. "No. No. This isn't possible. We purified you. We harmonized you."

The Mare in the Moon grinned at some private joke. "And yet here I am. Terror of the Night. Regent of Lunacy. Her Caliginous Majesty. You cannot dispute the evidence of your eyes, Twilight."

"Can't I? You're just another illusion!"

"Am I?" The goddess pointed with one starmetal-shod hoof.

Twilight followed the extremity to her motionless friends. Luna was nowhere to be seen. "Alright, so you're an illusion and an invisibility spell on the real Luna."

Nightmare Moon sighed, then smirked knowingly. "Isn't it nice to be so confident in the face of a conflicting reality?"

The scintillating pony glared, the energy around her roiling all the more ferociously. "Shut up! You're not real! Stop mocking me!" Her horn shined like a newborn star and unleashed a blast of noonday sunlight.

After it passed, the dark alicorn hovered unscathed, her young passenger's horn still aglow after nullifying the attack. "Are you quite finished? I'm not used to being the sane one. I haven't a clue what the proper protocol is."

That tore it. With an incoherent scream, Twilight charged the princess. Nightmare Moon simply descended, allowing the frenzied unicorn to pass her overhead as she helped Dinky dismount.

The filly looked at the boogeymare with a mix of fear and awe. "A...are you gonna gobble me up?"

The pitch-black princess gave a surprisingly warm smile. "No, little one, no gobbler I. Luna and I are like two sides of the same coin. I'm not a monster." She winked. "I'm just the better looking one."

This got a bit of laughter, though it was quickly interrupted by a gasp. "Look out!"

"Hmm?" The alicorn registered the angry purple missile racing towards her. "Oh." Eyes shining, Nightmare Moon waited patiently. When Twilight was within a few feet of her, the distorted pony was driven into the ground like she'd been swatted.

"You know what one of the best things is about sanity?" the moon princess said casually. "The ability to make plans that aren't terrible."

Twilight struggled, barely able to twitch. "Urgh..."

"You see, when you're crazy, ideas like 'turn into a thorn to enrage a manticore' or 'frighten a bunch of ponies with scary faces on trees' seem like they might actually work. You know, because you're crazy. On the other hoof, when you're sane, then you opt for rational strategies that actually have a chance, like 'pin your indestructible opponent in a high-intensity gravity field.'" Nightmare Moon looked at her captive piteously. "One of the many reasons why insanity doesn't suit you, Twilight."

The living spell said nothing. Instead, she simply vanished.

The alicorn facehoofed. "Ugh. Fix problem first, then monologue. And I say Tia has a flair for the dramatic..."

"You can fix her?" Dinky asked hopefully.

"I can certainly try." The princess looked around nervously. "But first, we need to find her again..."

Any attempts to do so were preempted by a sudden, blinding burst of light.

Ditzy was beginning to panic. As she'd anticipated, freeing Luna had been fairly easy. The transformation into Nightmare Moon had come as a surprise, but it was probably symbolic of her acceptance of that part of herself. Or something. She had neither the time nor the inclination to ponder symbolic underpinnings right now.

One of her more pressing concerns were the other five immobilized ponies. With no convenient dichotomies to work off of, her attempts to dispel their bonds had failed to make any progress whatsoever. That meant that the planeswalker had to resort to Plan B: Psychological triage. Seeing one of their best friends twisted into a surreal parody of herself was traumatic enough, but being rendered utterly motionless by her, then left to rot? Yeah, that wasn't going to end well for anypony's sanity.

Applejack and Rarity were easily coaxed into meditative fugue states, both more shocked and bored than crazy. Pinkie Pie had apparently undergone something similar on her own initiative. Probably. At the very least, her mind wasn't in her body, but a residual aura of black magic was. Ditzy had thought it best not to investigate further.

The pegasi were more troublesome. As the grey mare could attest, mobility was an essential part of the pegasine identity. For any winged pony, total involuntary paralysis was even more traumatic than having those wings removed. Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy had both descended into blind panic by the time Ditzy had snuck towards them. Now it was all she could do to keep them from going permanently insane. Actually, that was more than she could do. Simple numbers were against her: she just couldn't maintain two minds of such instability by herself. Not indefinitely.

The blonde was on the verge of employing something powerful enough to draw Twilight's notice when she became aware of another mind. It wasn't equine, that much she could tell, but beyond that she couldn't make heads or tails of it. Well, not without reducing the lifespan of her friends' sanity severalfold.

I will attend to Fluttershy. The telepathic message held an oddity for a mind-to-mind communiqué: an accent. More specifically, the exaggerated enunciation that comes from suppressing an accent. How Ditzy was getting that impression, she couldn't say.

She could, however, reply. Who are you?

Does it matter? Without my assistance, you will lose both of them shortly.

The planeswalker bit her lip. Fine. But if she goes mad—

I would never be able to forgive myself.

So long as we're on the same page. Ditzy felt the strange presence envelop the remains of Fluttershy's psyche, then shifted all of her attention to Dash. The speedster's mind was beating itself to a pulp against an unresponsive cage of flesh and sorcery. This wasn't going to be easy...

Dinky rubbed her eyes, trying to get her vision clear as fast as she could. She couldn't help stop Twilight if she couldn't see anything!

"Are you alright, Dinky?" Until now, the filly never would've thought she'd be glad to hear the voice of Nightmare Moon. Of course, she would've never expected to hear the Mare in the Moon speak with such worry.

"I'm fine, I just can't see!" Stupid Twilight with her stupid sneaky spells...

"I can restore your vision. Remove your helmet and it will only take a moment."

The young unicorn moved to comply, but paused moments later. "Sorry, but I really shouldn't take this off. It's keeping me safe."

"A few seconds won't hurt," insisted the alicorn. "Please, hurry!"

Dinky shook her head. "Nuh uh. Besides, everything's getting clearer."

Was... was that a growl? That was definitely a sigh. "Very well. I think I've spotted her above us. I'll pursue her."

The filly was able to make out a black blob rising towards the heavens. She waved in its general direction. "Good luck!"

Twilight sighed beneath her disguise. Stubborn little foal. She was lucky that her mother just happened to have some trinket that made magic avoid her like the plague. Hmm, a plague. That might get her. No, no, there would entail far too great a risk of collateral damage after she convinced the rest of Ponyville that there was no reason to be worried. Thankfully, that would be easier. If she couldn't talk them into it, she could just make them feel safe. Not like Little Miss No-Magic down there.

The distorted unicorn realized she was woolgathering. And still ascending. "Oops." She went back to a more reasonable cruising altitude as she continued to think. A shout in her third ear reminded her of what she'd been doing after her blinding spell.

It was an interesting question: How do you stop a deity? There was the brute force approach, but destroying the moon would likely do more harm than good. Twilight could've tried binding the Nightmare again, but if she broke free once, she'd probably be able to do so again. And, of course, no matter how the elemental approached the problem, she'd have to sneak it past Dinky Doo. Fortunately, the filly's mother had been kind enough to offer a suggestion. It was just a matter of distracting the foal long enough to shunt the alicorn into nonexistence, place an "I'm still here" dummy for Celestia's connection to her sister, and create an illusion for herself.

Don't worry, Twilight transmitted. I'll have you back in time to raise the moon.

She couldn't help but give a satisfied smile as she listened to the furious, profanity-laden reply.

Ditzy slumped and heaved a sigh of relief. Getting Dash into a preservative dormancy had been remarkably like getting a certain stubborn filly to go to bed. Fortunately, that meant that the bubble-flanked mare was uniquely qualified for the job. She sent a mental missive to her mysterious partner. Dash is stable. How's Fluttershy?

Calmed and content. Now that they are taken care of, we must address the next issue.

Twilight?

Precisely. I shall assist the lady of the moon and your daughter. Keep worrying at the others' restraints. I am confident that you will find a weak point.

Wait, you never told me who you were!

There was an impression of a smirk. Isn't it obvious? Who else could so easily calm such a skittish pony?

Ditzy spotted a white dot streaking towards the struggle. She gave a smirk of her own. Good luck, Angel.

Yes. I am.

Twilight gave a contented sigh. She'd really needed a chance to calm down and clear her head. Nopony could be expected to think straight with that much rage in her system. Now she was back to her reasonable, rational self, and she could reasonably, rationally remove the impediments to keeping Equestria safe. With fire.

Her measured, even-tempered pyromania was interrupted by an unfamiliar magic signature. The twisted mare looked up, finding herself the target of a steep dive. She examined the diver, raising the former site of an eyebrow. "You're joking. You're joking, right?"

Judging by the unwavering plunge, Angel wasn't.

Twilight sighed. "Honestly, it's like they keep forgetting what they're dealing with." A whisper of power, and the rabbit's vegetable vestments unravelled, leaving naught but bunny.

He shifted position, going headfirst rather than lead with his now nonexistent lance.

The living spell took a moment to process the sheer chutzpah on display. "Okay, I have to respect that." Another bit of magic, and the lagomath vanished, sent on a collision course with Fluttershy's bed. "Not saying it's smart, but definitely respectable." She turned, spotted a more familiar magic, and moved towards it.

Ditzy bit back a scream. No matter how she analyzed or approached it, she couldn't find a single flaw in the magic that kept the Bearers motionless. Protection effects on protection effects. Double Bösium indestructibility reach-arounds. Enough hexproofing that any further magic slipped off of the array like water off a duck's back. It was the most durable, comprehensively tamper-proof spell complex she'd ever seen. No surprise, really. This was Twilight she was dealing with...

The pegasus facehoofed as realization struck. If she couldn't attack the magic, she could always attack the magician.

This point was emphasized when everything turned ruddier than normal. Ditzy sprinted way just before an explosion charred where she'd been standing.

"Darn," huffed Twilight, hovering lazily. "And here I was hoping we could wrap this up nice and neat." She glared at the grey mare. "But no, that would require you to cooperate, and we can't have that, now can we?" Golden energy played along her horn. "Oh, and trying to use my friends as cover isn't going to help you. As you just saw, I don't have to use flashy trajectory attacks."

Ditzy took off an eyeblink before a sphere of necrotic energy would've consumed her. "Twiight, please, you don't want to do this."

"Don't tell me what I want!" The altered unicorn took hold of the leylines around the planeswalker. Ubiquitous trickles of magical energy, they were no thicker than a hair, obviously nowhere near as powerful as the main vessels of magic of the world. Still, they could be woven into an invisible, inescapable cage, then filled with enough power to make them explosively overload.

At least, in theory. In practice, they responded to her manipulation with a bit of halfhearted twitching. "What?"

"Dinky isn't the only one who knows countermagic." Between her forehooves, Ditzy held a cerulean orb. Within, glowing lines of light twisted and glimmered. "Furthermore, she hasn't had the chance to experiment with variations on the theme."

"What did you—" Twilight cut herself off. It was obvious. Impossible, but obvious. The pegasus had somehow contained her spell and was going to use it against her. She'd just have to preempt it. Her glowing eyes turned black as the space between stars as she readied an attack on the foalish pony's very mind.

Then she was interrupted by a white-mana-engorged leyline wrapping itself around her head like a blindfold.

As the unicorn screamed, her concentration ruined, she felt more of the turgid energy pathways close around her. The tendrils burned, froze, ached with a hundred different flavors of excruciation. Then they exploded, which made their embrace seem pleasant by comparison.

As smoke wafted from her iridescent form, the mutated mare reflected on the myriad differences between immortality and invulnerability. Once she could see clearly, her adversary was nowhere to be found. A quick search for Ditzy's magic resolved that. Twilight slowly, deliberately walked towards the impertinent pegasus, every step tinting the air with colors not found in any rational universe. Oh, that mare would suffer for this. She would suffer.

Dinky frowned. Nightmare Moon had gone up until she was barely visible, then just vanished from sight. Then Twilight had reappeared, but the filly hadn't been able to tell what she was doing, or even if she was doing anything. She just kind of stood in one place for a while, then turned back around and headed for... oh no. "Mommy!"

The filly galloped forward, Dinky Sense guiding her. She soon saw her mother on the wing, but any relief was short-lived, given the horror on the mare's tail.

Something, noted Ditzy, had definitely changed after that last spelljack. Before, Twilight's attacks had been coherent expressions of arcane power. Now she was just hurling chunks of the raw, caustic mana that surrounded her without bothering to shape it into anything else. Risking a glance, the pegasus saw that the furious being had apparently grown several additional appendages, the better to chunkhurl with.

"I am going to erase you from time itself!"

And then there was the voice. It was a chorus of Twilights, each expressing her own unique spin on anger, from cold malice to psychotic fury. It was kind of creepy.

So was the combination of screams, groans, and sighs the warped pony made when her latest blob of protomagic winked out of existence halfway to Ditzy. "I will make your insufferable spawn watch you die a thousand deaths!"

"Uh huh." The pegasus landed next to her daughter, gave her a wink, and answered, "You know, you keep making all these promises, but I've yet to see you do anything constructive."

The elemental's face literally twisted into a mask of fury, her features distorting themselves along with the rest of her body. "I will tear off your wings and drive them through your eyes!"

Dinky whimpered. Her mother brought a comforting wing over her. "It's okay, Muffin. As long as we're together, she can't hurt either of us. She's just a big ol' bag of wind."

Twilight grinned. Though her body continued to roil and stretch, there was a worrisome lucidity in her eyes. She spoke with a single voice. "Oh, I think not. There's one thing, ONE. Thing. That I think you'll find is going to have a very, very major impact on the two of you." The maddened creature began a maniacal laugh, her form strobing through colors at furious speeds as it lost what little cohesion it still had. She began to diffuse like ink in water, her cackle echoing from all directions.

"What is she doing?" cried Dinky.

Ditzy hesitated, scarcely able to believe her senses. "She's... she's trying to become one with the magic of the entire world. She's trying to become Equestria!" As if to underscore the point, an ominous and familiar groan briefly drowned out the spreading elemental's mad mirth. "And she's breaking the world in the process."

"What do we do?"

"If I—" The pegasus stopped, disbelief giving way to horror. "N-no."

"Mommy?"

"She cut me off." The mare slumped onto her rump, staring vacantly. "She's in the mana. She is the mana. I... I can't do anything."

The filly glared. "I can."

The laughter redoubled at this simple declaration. The Sparkle chorus, now rather out of sync, crowed, "anAnd just what do you think you can do?do"

Dinky Doo did not speak her answer. She performed it. She took hold of the vast stores of magical energy she had let lie dormant, fearing catastrophic misuse in her unpracticed hooves. Now she didn't care. It didn't matter if she flubbed up a super-mega-ultra-gigantospell; the world about to end anyway. Overglow after overglow encompassed her horn as every last drop of magic was forced into a single spell, a single thought, a single word:

No.

The light around her horn collapsed to an infinitesimal point at its tip, then burst out in a beam thicker than Celestia's wingspan. The assault plowed through Twilight's amorphous form like wet tissue paper and kept going. Behind her, it collapsed again, then split into countless thin rays of energy, each streaking to a seemingly random point in the sky where it pierced some invisible scrap of invasive magic.

After what felt like an eternity, the spell faded, the afterimage still glimmering in Ditzy's eyes. The primary mass of magic, now with a large hole blasted through its middle, drifted towards the immobile Bearers, collapsing into a lavender blob. The lump reshaped itself into a familiar tiara-adorned pony.

Dinky was broken out of amazement at her own achievement by a high tinkling crunch. She looked down and saw that the flower on her necklace had shattered. "Aww..."

Her mother ruffled her mane. "W-well, easy come, easy go." The pegasus's voice shook a bit with sheer relief. "Come on, let's go check on Twilight."

The filly was quiet for a moment as they moved towards the overwhelmed mare. "I really did that?"

"You did, Muffin."

"Wow." Dinky beamed. "Best day ever!"

Ditzy chuckled. "I don't know about that." She paused by Applejack, nudging her a little. "Up and at 'em."

There was no response. The blonde frowned. With Twilight very decisively dealt with, the bonds on the other Bearers should've ceased to be, and after that the fugue state should've been undone with pretty much any physical stimulus. "Applejack?" Still nothing.

The young unicorn frowned. "Is she okay?"

"Oh..." Both turned. Twilight was shakily getting to her hooves, her eyes still glowing. "She'll be just fine." She stumbled, then managed to stand. "Juuuust fine."

Ditzy stepped forward. "Twilight, please, it's over. Whatever this crisis is, you can fix it without cracking the plane in half."

"You don't know that!" shrieked the purple mare. "You can't know that! None of us can! I have to be sure!" Shaking and twitching, she looked around and grinned. "And I know how." Her eyes grew brighter, the Tiara of Magic following suit.

As the other Elements began to light up, the planeswalker struggled to grasp the madmare's logic. "You're just going to blindly use the Elements and hope they fix everything?"

"No! I have a very specific target in mind, Miss Spellcasting Pegasus!"

Ditzy pointed a hoof at herself. "Me? Seriously?"

Twilight rose into the air, her friends following suit. "Yes! You should not be! You're obviously the harbinger of a greater catastrophe! But if I cleanse the world of you, then you! Can't! Make it! HAPPEN!"

"Pinkie Pie can cast spells too."

"Huh?"

The Elements activated, launching a magnificent rainbow of magic into the sky. Most diffused out in a beautiful display of light as it healed the fresh wounds in the structure of the plane. But a small amount went back down, slamming into one mare with enough love and tolerance to crush a freight train.

As the display faded, Twilight looked at the Doos with a blend of horror and guilt. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." She fell on her face.

After a pause, Dinky piped up. "Did... did Miss Twilight just use the Elements on herself?"

"She didn't mean to," answered Ditzy, "but yes."

"Freeze!" Several armored pegasi landed around the pair. "Royal Guard! Nopony move!"

Harmonic Restoration 1WW
Instant
Exile target permanent. That permanent's controller may return a card in his or her graveyard that shares a permanent type with that permanent to the battlefield.
The Elements of Harmony do not kill. They correct that which was not meant to happen.

Cleanup Step

The guard directly in front of Ditzy examined the area, then jerked his head at two of his comrades. They took off, leaving three around the mare and her daughter. He then flared his wings, audibly slicing the air. "On your belly. Wings spread and on the ground."

The grey mare felt her jaw work, so many different responses warring for expression that she was stunned into silence.

Dinky was not so disabled. She dashed between the two adult ponies, crying, "We didn't do anything wrong!"

The armored pegasus remained implacable. "The innocent have nothing to fear. On your belly. Do not channel your magic."

Ditzy found her voice. "She's just a foal!"

He took a step forward. "If you choose not to comply, I am authorized to physically force you to do so."

The planeswalker snorted and flared her own wings, producing two small thunderclaps. Lightning crackled amidst her plumage. Her rage threatened to boil over onto anypony nearby who wasn't her foal. She locked gazes with the fool who dared to threaten her precious Muffin and—

"Stand down, you foals! It is only thanks to these ponies' efforts that you still draw breath!"

The guards stared at the bombastic alicorn for a moment, martial resolve giving way to naked fear. Their wills snapped like dry twigs:

"Red Door! Red Door!"

"Evacuate!"

"This is not a drill!"

Amidst the panicked flapping, the princess groaned and looked to Ditzy. "I'm still Nightmare Moon, aren't I?"

The pegasus tittered, electrical fury forgotten in her surprise. "I'm afraid so, Your Highness."

The dread mare rolled her eyes and shrank into Luna's moderately less intimidating form. "I'm going to have to bear that in mind in the future. The diplomatic consequences alone could be disastrous."

The blonde shrugged. "I don't know. 'Give us what we want or suffer everlasting night' seems like a fairly solid foreign policy to me."

The princess smirked. "Then let us be thankful that we do not toil under the iron hoof of Empress Ditzy."

The two shared a laugh. As their mirth abated, the grey mare noted, "Seriously, you should probably stop them before the entire country starts panicking."

"On it."

A pitch black sphere expanded into existence before them, disgorging the frightened guards in short order. All three scrambled to their hooves, the one who'd locked wills with Ditzy catching sight of Luna in the process. "Your Highness!" he blurted. "You're not evil anymore!"

"Evil?" echoed Luna. "Ms. Doo, would you say that I've been evil today?"

The planeswalker kept an admirably straight face. "That's a rather subjective matter, wouldn't you agree, Your Majesty?"

The alicorn nodded in concession. "Hmm, true." She turned back to the armored pegasus. "Tell me, Lieutenant Zeal, precisely what malfeasance did I exhibit earlier?"

The hapless guardspony struggled for words before refocusing on the blonde mare. "Your Highness, I must ask that you step aside. We need to detain this pony for questioning."

"No you don't."

The stallion paused to process this. "With all due respect, Milady—"

"If you were showing me all due respect, you would not be questioning my direct orders."

"But—"

"Technically, you shouldn't even be making eye contact with me, but it is my understanding that certain social mores have been relaxed over the past millennium."

Desperation crept into Zeal's voice. "Princess, we have direct orders from your sister to investigate this disturbance and to apprehend those responsible."

Luna shrugged. "Tell her it was an act of fate."

The white stallion took in the unconscious Elements of Harmony, the oh-so-arrestable pegasus, the frightened filly who'd obviously been coerced into aiding the villain... "An act of fate, Your Highness?"

The alicorn nodded. "Act of fate."

The lieutenant opened his mouth to object further, but one of his comrades spoke first. "You heard the Princess, Z. Act of fate."

"Can't arrest destiny," noted the third member of Canterlot's finest.

"Y'know, I heard somepony tried once. Wasn't pretty."

The crestfallen guard managed to squeeze into the conversation. "But—"

"C'mon, Z. We've got a debriefing to get to."

"Yup, no sense in making Celestia worry over nothing."

The trio took off to reconnoiter with their fellows, one more hesitantly than the others. Ditzy quirked an eyebrow. "Not to sound ungrateful, but 'act of fate'?"

Luna nodded. "The Full Arcane Temporaspacial Enforcement Act clearly designates today's events as outside the Royal Guard's jurisdiction."

"So whose jurisdiction are they?"

"Mine."

"Gah!" Ditzy leapt a few yards before turning to glare at— "Lyra?"

The unicorn saluted. "Agent Lyrical Heartstrings, Office of Parallel Realities, Department of Quantum Affairs, Space Division of the Equestrian Time-Space Administration Bureau." She smirked. "Also known as the ETSAB."

"Every aspect of our world is overseen by sapient life," noted Luna. "Weather, the turning of the seasons, the plants and animals. Causality and the cosmos are no different, save that they are vastly more necessary and vastly more dangerous if mismanaged or left uncontrolled."

"I... You..." Ditzy took a breath as she sorted out the countless questions that came to mind. "So where were all the special agents while I was risking my tail and my foal?"

"There are currently only four ETSAB agents in Ponyville," answered Lyra. "Both members of the Time Division are on a case elsewhen in history and the other member of the Space Division is still in the womb."

The pegasus resisted the urge to ask for elaboration. Something told her that further inquiry along those lines would only make for more confusion. "As for you?"

"Eh heh..." The mint-green mare awkwardly rubbed a cannon with the other foreleg. "Well, you have to understand, this is some really confidential stuff. The only reason we're even talking about this in the open is because the town's been evacuated. It's like I said back at the Boutique; my job's a secret even to me. Well, most of the time. I have to be activated by either circumstance or posthypnotic cue. In this case, it was the generosity elemental spitting me out of its hivemind."

"And after that?"

Lyra glared at Ditzy. "I was making sure that time stop of yours wouldn't make anything worse."

"Oh." The blonde gave a nervous chuckle. "Oops... So why are you telling me all of this?" Something clicked. "This is a job offer, isn't it?"

The unicorn nodded. "Celestia knows how short-handed we are—"

"As do I," noted Luna.

"...anyway, I know Extraplanar Affairs would love to have someone like you on board."

Ditzy felt like she could be knocked over with a feather. "How did you..."

"When on a moment's notice you cast a spell that even Star Swirl needed a week to prepare for, it's kind of a tipoff. Especially when you do it without a horn."

"Oh. Right."

Lyra grinned and held out a foreleg. "So? What do you say?"

"Um... But..." After the day's events, Ditzy struggled with this latest unexpected development. "I'm the only mailpony in Ponyville," she protested lamely.

The spearmint mare shrugged. "It's only on an as-needed basis. Heck, sometimes I go months between assignments."

Luna bore a distant look. "You're really the only postal worker for the entire town?"

"Yeah."

The alicorn snorted in indignation. "This is a travesty! To think that one of the most fundamental components of civil service would be reduced to this hollow mockery, this skeletal sham, and within sight of Canterlot, no less! As Mother as Our Witness, this shall not stand!"

"What's with her?" Lyra whispered.

Ditzy held back a laugh. "If I remember correctly, she's the one who came up with the idea of the postal system in the first place."

"Huh. So, you interested in the ETSAB?"

"Um..."

The unicorn smiled. "I understand, it's a big decision. If you want, you can be registered as a consultant. You'll basically get to choose how involved you want to get."

"I think that would be best."

Dinky chose then to speak up. "Does this make Mommy a secret agent?"

Lyra ruffled her mane. "Depends. Can you keep a secret?"

"...with an anvil!" concluded Luna. She noted the blank looks on the other ponies and grinned sheepishly. "I suppose I went on a bit of a tangent. My apologies."

Ditzy straightened herself. This was a monumental choice, and she wanted to recognize it as such. "Your Majesty, I would be honored to be a member of the Bureau, but given my responsibilities, I must ask that I only take on a consulting role for now."

The princess nodded. "Entirely reasonable. Agent Heartstrings, I trust you can coordinate the necessary logistics?"

"Of course, Your Majesty."

A thought struck the pegasus. "What about Pinkie Pie? She's a planeswalker too."

Lyra burst into laughter at this. Once she collected herself, she explained, "Sorry, sorry. It's just that Anomalous Affairs has had a subcommittee entirely devoted to Pinkie for the past five years or so. If we recruit her, those poor guys would probably go apoplectic."

"Furthermore," added Luna, "Celestia and I have agreed that none of the Elements should be involved in the more... covert aspects of the kingdom."

Ditzy took this in for a moment "Huh. Well, I guess that clears up everything except for one question."

The alicorn gave a slight frown. "And that would be?"

The planeswalker gestured towards the still prone Bearers. "What are we going to do with them?"

Celestia considered both the news and its reporter. "An act of fate, you say?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," grumbled a kneeling Shining Zeal.

She nodded. "Well, that's that then."

The guardspony's head bolted up in disbelief. "Your Majesty?"

The princess met him with a questioning look. "You have done your duty and assuaged my concerns, Lieutenant. What more is there?"

Humility and curiosity warred in the stallion's mind. "But, but I..."

"Yes?"

"But that's just what your sister told me to tell you!" Zeal covered his mouth, horrified by the slip.

The alicorn seemed no more interested than before. "Oh? Well, then you have performed a duty to each of us. Well done, Lieutenant."

"But I don't know what actually happened!"

"I assure you, Shining Zeal, our top ponies will be investigating the matter."

The pegasus pondered this for a moment. "But, Your Majesty, who?"

"Top. Ponies." Celestia magically lifted and unrolled a scroll, then looked back at the guard with a hint of surprise. "You are dismissed, Lieutenant."

"I..." Whatever Zeal was going to say, he though better of it. Instead, he knelt and answered, "Understood, Your Majesty."

The day princess allowed herself a slight smile as the stallion left the chamber. Shining Zeal obviously didn't understand the situation, at least not beyond "The princess has declared the matter closed," but that was good enough for him. As his name implied, the guard was noble and devoted, but had almost no sense for the finer points of politics. Celestia wished the same could be said of more ponies.

Alas, subterfuge was as much a part of her reign as was moving the sun. At least Luna's return had brought back the sister that savored that sort of intrigue, but she couldn't shoulder it all alone. And on that note...

With a theatrical sigh, the alicorn said, "You can come out now."

Two ponies materialized before her, each offering a deep nod. Etiquette was not a major concern for them. How could it be? Officially, they didn't exist. The unicorn, an ash-grey mare with an auburn mane and a domino mask cutie mark, spoke first. "Wasn't satisfied. Might suspect."

Celestia stifled a snicker. "Zeal? Unless it's a criminal matter, he's almost adorably naïve. He wouldn't suspect Blueblood's lineage of being anything but the purest truth."

"Are you sure?" checked the other, a midnight-blue pegasus stallion with sable mane and a heart under a magnifying glass on his flank. "It could be a put-on."

The princess gave him a flat look. "It may no longer be practical for me to meet every one of my ponies personally, Dashing Rogue, but I still make the effort with the Royal Guard. I know that stallion better than he knows himself. He is no concern of yours."

Rogue nodded again. "As you say, Princess."

Celestia changed the subject, knowing that she would get no further with him. "Cloaking Dagger, what can you tell me about the incident?"

The unicorn pawed at the carpet. "...not much."

"Oh?" encouraged the alicorn.

"Big fight. Nopony got close. Too scared. Too conspicuous with town empty." Dagger offered an unsure smile. "Talk of hazard pay."

"Well, 'not much' isn't nothing. What do you have?"

"Some still in town at time. Elements. Doos. Luna. ETSAB mare."

The alicorn nodded. "That confirms it, then. It would appear that I have an appointment to make. And it has been some time since I last spoke with Inner Core..." She briefly brought her attention back to her spymasters (and that's what they are, she thought to herself, no matter how many pretty terms you invent for them.) "You may go."

The duo padded out, eerily silent for ponies, even on soft carpet. Rogue spread a wing over Dagger, bringing her a bit closer, and they vanished from sight. Celestia waited until she could no longer sense them before reflecting more deeply on the matter.

Once she was alone with her thoughts, she reviewed the past... had it really been less than an hour? That humiliating audience with poor Slide Rule seemed ages ago. She'd hastily cancelled the remainder of the Morning Court, citing ancient emergency clauses that had sent scholars of law poring through the Canterlot Archives. Then, with the same abruptness with which it had appeared, the tumorous glob of magic in Ponyville had vanished.

Celestia hadn't trusted the apparent miracle, so she took a look for herself. She rarely used the power of solar scrying, mainly because she found the idea of leering down at her people like a warden monitoring a prison distasteful. Here, however, it had easily revealed the deception. While the town seemed fine at first glance, the ponies anxiously milling about the city limits didn't mesh with the cheerful activity within. Less than a minute of careful observation proved that Ponyville was on a loop, yet the alicorn couldn't pierce the illusion. She'd dispatched the Guard to investigate, including a few members of her less publicized forces, and now here she was.

The princess sighed. After a millennium of careful scrutiny, not being sure what was going on elicited an odd blend of anxiety and novelty. She supposed she would have to wait until Luna deigned to tell her what had happened. This prompted a snicker, which was allowed to run free. Oh yes, little sister would find that all too amusing...

"Ugh..." Twilight winced as she grudgingly regained consciousness. "Worst. Dream. Ever."

"I quite agree. Tea?"

"Yes." She eagerly took the proffered caffeine, draining the cup before noticing who'd given it to her. "Trixie!?"

The other unicorn smiled. "Good afternoon, Twilight."

The lavender mare set down the teacup, thankful that in her drowsy state she'd used hooves rather than magic, and thus hadn't let it drop in her shock. As she did so, she examined her unexpected caretaker's coat. It was almost impossible to make out poison joke's telltale rash against the already blue hair. "Wh-what brings you here?" asked the Bearer, a wooden smile nailed to her face.

Trixie couldn't help it. She began laughing uproariously at the other mare's discomfort. "Oh, relax. I solemnly swear that I'm not in love with you, madly or otherwise." This elicited a fresh peal of laughter.

Twilight noted an unexpected ambivalence in her reaction and filed it away for future analysis. "Okay, if you aren't here to... court me, then what brings you to Ponyville? And my bedroom?"

The silver-maned pony feigned surprise. "Why, Miss Sparkle! Surely you haven't forgotten that my mentor is gracing this modest hamlet with her presence?"

"Your mentor?"

"Princess Luna."

Twilight's reaction was like an explosive with a long but unseen fuse. For a time, nothing seemed to happen. Then she burst into action, sending her sheets flying. "Omigosh! The princess! What time is it? Who has she met? Has anypony offended her? Has she banished anypony to the sun? Oh, if her sister's upset, Princess Celestia will never forgive me! Where is she? I have to try to salvage this!"

"You have no reason to be so concerned, Twilight Sparkle." Both unicorns beheld the night princess. "I have had a most enjoyable time in Ponyville this day."

The purple mare slumped in relief. "Oh, thank goodness."

One nagging thought finally got through her drowsiness and panic. "Wait a second." She turned to Trixie. "How could you agree about the unpleasant nature of my dream? It would be understandable if you simply sympathized, or even said you were sorry, though you obviously weren't responsible for it. But you explicitly said 'I agree.' Why?"

The showmare didn't respond at first. After a nod from Luna, she asked, "What do you remember?"

Twilight brought a hoof to her forehead as she concentrated. "I was performing my usual Thursday instrument calibrations when the ultra-wide angle thaumoscope detected a strange flux in the universal magical background energy, one I'd never seen before. Further research indicated that that particular pattern was unprecedented in all of recorded history. The only clue I could find was a vague allusion to a 'time of chaos' in Origins and Eschatologies.

"I tried to find a way to counterbalance the shift, to superimpose a mirror waveform to restore equilibrium. Then a second flux developed, almost exactly what I needed. I just had to adjust it a little, guide it to fulfill the purpose it needed to. Then... then..."

She shook her head. "No, that couldn't have been real!" She started to laugh. "I mean, really? Pegasi casting spells? Nightmare Moon reappearing?" The laughter grew hysterical. "Paralyzing my friends? Wanting to do horrible things to a mother and her child!? Willing to break the world apart if it means I win?!? That wasn't real!!! That couldn't be real!!! Right!??! Right?!?!?"

Wings and warmth enfolded her. Somehow, the comforting gesture removed any possibility of denial. Twilight began to sob into Luna's side. "How?" the unicorn pleaded. "How do you deal with the guilt?"

"You learn from it, so you never make the same mistakes again. You spend every day trying to earn the forgiveness you may never feel you deserve. And you hope with all your heart that one day ponies will look at you and not see the monster you became." Trixie gave a weak chuckle. "At least, that's what Luna told me."

Twilight ducked under the princess's wing, looking at the other unicorn in a new light. "Trixie..."

Rarity's voice cut in in midsentence. "—ving a private moment!"

All three turned to see Rainbow Dash halfway through an open window. "Forget that! I could hear Twilight crying in there! You can't expect me to just sit back and let her beat herself up over something that wasn't even her fault!" The pegasus noticed that she'd been noticed, among other things. "Aw, you two weren't gonna make out, were you? 'Cause if you were, I owe AJ ten bits."

Trixie flushed, almost turning purple. "Why of all the tactless, immature, inconsiderate—"

She was drowned out by Twilight's laughter. The lavender mare beamed at her winged friend, still chuckling a bit. "Thank you, Dash."

The speedster posed proudly. "Heh. You're welcome." She paused for a moment, noticing a disconnect. "Um, for what?"

"For being you."

Rainbow considered this, shrugged, and took it. Hay, gratitude was gratitude. Who cared about the details?

"Is everypony outside?" asked Twilight.

"Yup. We were gonna throw you a 'Feel Better' party, but a certain Miss Prissypants decided it wouldn't be 'polite' and 'proper' to 'intrude on such highly personal matters.'" The heavy use of air quotes made the spectrum-maned mare's opinion on the matter clear.

Celestia's student sniffled and smiled. "You know, I think a party is exactly what I need." She turned to the room's other occupants. "You're both invited, of course."

Trixie demurred. "I... I don't know. I mean, with my history—"

"Nonsense!" boomed Luna. "We will both be overjoyed to attend! Let us make merry and leave angst to another day!"

"Great!" Dash cheered. "I'll go tell the others." She made to leave, but remembered a minor detail. "Oh, and you may want to unlock the door. Pinkie's gonna get through regardless, but..."

Twilight wiped away the last of her tears. "Right." She wasn't all better. She wasn't sure if she ever really could be. But she had friends that were there for her no matter what, and it seemed that she had even more on the horizon. That was a magic that could do anything. Without shattering the universe.

The sound of Pinkie Pie blowing her nose echoed through the library. "So touching..."

Commodore Guff shrugged. "I found it rather saccharine, to say nothing of how erratic the overall tone of the chapter was."

The pony harrumphed. "Well I'm going to be living this story in a few thousand years and I think it was very sweet."

"Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy a happy ending. This one just felt... unsatisfying. Like there should be more there."

"Well of course there's more there, silly."

The human-shaped 'walker impatiently waved this off. "Yes, yes, I know. No story is ever truly complete. I taught you that, after all."

"No, I mean we haven't read the epilogue!" Sure enough, there were a few pages left in the book.

"Oh. I suppose we haven't."

Pinkie hefted a pile of notebooks and loose pages, some apparently taken out of page-a-day calendars. "And after that, there's a bunch of side stories and omakes and stuff!"

Guff gave his own harrumph. "That's hardly in continuity."

"Neither's the whole story!"

"...point. Do you want to read this next part, or shall I?"

Pinkie pushed the book towards him. "I just finished. Now it's your turn!"

"Very well." Guff cleared his throat and adjusted his monocle. "Epilogue: It Never Fails..."

Fourth Wall Breach 1BB
Sorcery
Search your library for a silver-bordered card, reveal it, and put it into your hand. Then shuffle your library.
"Oh, hi! Having fun? What're you gonna look for? I hope you get your favoritest card! Unless this is your favoritest card, in which case, congratulations!"
—Pinkie Pie, Element of Laughter

Epilogue: It Never Fails

From The Friendship Reports: Royal Correspondence of the Bearers of Harmony, Unexpurgated Edition

Dear Princess Celestia,

Today I learned that you should never assume that your friends can't help you with a hard problem, even if it seems outside of their experience. Not only can a fresh perspective sometimes be more valuable than seemingly essential knowledge, you may be surprised by what ponies you thought you knew are really capable of when they put their muzzles to the grindstone.
I also learned that you should always keep your heart open to ponies who have made mistakes in the past. You never know what they've been doing since, or how they've tried to correct their past wrongs. Sometimes, these efforts can be incredibly draining, and they can seem pointless when those ponies are surrounded by others getting along just fine. Then more than ever, these repentant ponies need a friend, and you should be there for them, ready to forgive, forget, and forge a new bond.

Your faithful student,
Twilight Sparkle

P.S. I am so, so, so sorry for messing with your mind. Please don't imprison me or banish me or imprison me in the place where you banished me.

Canterlot Archives, Twilight Sparkle Wing, Document #L-038

To my faithful student Twilight Sparkle,

Firstly, let me assure you that I have no intention of punishing the actions you took while not in your right mind, especially not through imprisonment, exile, or a combination thereof.
Secondly, I feel that there is much that can be learned from this experience beyond insights on the magic of friendship. The creatures that came into being today taught us a lesson that is all too easily forgotten; that a virtue exercised immoderately becomes a vice. Furthermore, while I hope it will never come to pass, it is entirely possible that today's events could repeat themselves in the future. If those events are willingly forgotten, then it is almost guaranteed. As such, I humbly request that you, the other Elemental Bearers, Ms. Doo, and Ms. Hobbitses collaborate on an updated edition of the Guide to the Elements of Harmony, noting the perils of each Element when taken to extremes and vulnerabilities of each element when incarnated.
In light of the Harmonic Normalcy Initiative we have discussed in the past, I strongly recommend that you compile this new edition under a pseudonym. I will personally edit the manuscript and push it through the Academy press. There is no deadline or due date. Please don't feel pressured to churn out something as quickly as possible, but by the same token, don't horde your friends' submissions in the belief that only that which is already perfect can be allowed to grace my gaze. I have no desire to cause you undue stress, my faithful student, nor that you cause it unto yourself or anypony else. In short, have fun with it.

Your mentor,
Princess Celestia

Fluttershy Poseysfilly
87 Everfree Road
Ponyville, CS 17069

Dear Ms. Poseysfilly,

At the recommendation of Her Royal Highness the Princess Luna and in recognition of acts of uncommon valor, conviction, and ingenuity, we are pleased to bestow the prestigious honor of the Order of the Electrum Eclipse to your pet rabbit, Angel Bunny. As per tradition, the presentation of this award will take place on the day of the next equinox, the twenty-second of Harvember, at the grounds of Castle Canterlot.

Our sincerest congratulations,
Solar Wind
Champion of the Sun
Witching Hour
Champion of the Moon

Messrs. Wind and Hour
Castle Canterlot
Office of the Royal Champions
Canterlot, CS 00001

To the esteemed Champions of the Sun and Moon,

I thank you for the honor of such a storied medal as the Order of the Electrum Eclipse, but I must repectfully decline. I mean no offense to you or to your exalted patrons, but it would be most unbecoming were I to accept an award for acting as member of my race would under the circumstances. Futhermore, the Council of Warrens does not look kindly upon those under its auspices accepting the accolades of those it regards as the "lesser races," i.e. any nonlagomorph. Please understand that I do not subscribe to this bigotry, though I owe my fealty to those who do.

With the utmost respect,
Archon of Virtue, Who Punches Evil in the Face
Known to ponies as Angel Bunny
Champion of Kindness

Incantessa Octavia Pie
26 Eighth Avenue
Apartment 44C
Manehattan, NY 46543

Dear Inkie,

Hi! It's Pinkie! Well, you probably knew that from the envelope, but it still seemed like a good idea to say so, just in case. Anyway, you might have had a pinchy knee on Tuesday morning. I just wanted to let you know that it was in Ponyville, we took care of it, and nopony was hurt.
I'm so happy to hear about Beauty and Fred's engagement, and the invitation was beautiful! But on that note, I'm going to give you some sisterly advice: It seems that a certain special somepony has been bitten by the marriage bug, because she's been dropping hints more often than the bass. You should probably come for a visit before she proposes on air.
Gummy's doing well and Mrs. Cake is entering her third month. It's so exciting! I can't wait to find out if I'm going to be a godmother or a godfather! Say hi to the band for me. See you at the Gala!

Your loving sister,
Pinkie

Mistral Lace
5 Cyclone Circle
Las Pegasus, CA 90055

Dear Ms. Lace,

Six years ago, your husband was lost in an accident in the Cloudsdale weather factory. That same day, your daughter disappeared without a trace before your eyes. I write to you today not to open old wounds, but to offer resolution. You see, I am your daughter.
I apologize for not contacting you before now. It's a long, complicated story, one I plan on telling you in person. Suffice to say, when I made it back to Equestria, I was focused on establishing some kind of stability for myself. Then I found love, and then I lost it, and then love found me. I just got too wrapped up in my own life and my own problems to even think to reach out to you until now. I hope and pray you can forgive me for my selfishness.
If you'll have me, I'll be glad to visit you at a moment's notice, along with your son-in-law, your granddaughter and a whole lot of stories.

Your loving daughter,
Ditzy

P.S. I know it sounds too good to be true. The enclosed photo is offered as proof. If that's not enough, the secret to your extra-fluffy lemon poppy seed muffins is to use cloud condensate instead of table salt.

Go Postal 2GGG
Sorcery
Whenever a creature you control deals combat damage to a player this turn, draw that many cards.
Neither rain, nor sleet, nor dark of night, nor dogs, nor hail, nor big green things with teeth, nor rogue chaos gods, nor savage natives, nor Mrs. Cake will stay these messengers from their daily rounds.

Thank you for reading. The story continues in Sideboard of Harmony.

Glossary of Terms

Author's Note: You may have noticed that I made up several words and concepts over the course of the story. I supplied definitions and explanations on fanfiction.net, but neglected to do so here. I thought I should rectify that. Each entry has a parenthetical amendment indicating where it's first used.

Definitions:

Anthropophile (anne-THROH-poh-fie-uhl) n. One who is fascinated by humans, the concept thereof, and/or the morphology thereof. (Chapter 9)

Celestmas (seh-LEST-muss) n. Celestia's birthday, celebrated on the tenth of Autumber (analogous to October on Earth.) Lunamas, more obscure but rapidly becoming less so, is on the seventeenth. (Chapter 7)

Euclopean (you-CLOPE-ee-an) adj. 1. Of or relating to Euclop, pioneering mathematician of the ancient Haylennic Republic. 2. Related to geometry in a flat plane. (Chapter 7)

Harvember (hahr-VEM-burr) n. Ninth month of the Equestrian calendar, marked by Summer Shutdown and the beginning of fall. Analogous to September. (Chapter 19)

Haylennic (hay-LEHN-ick) adj. Of or relating to ancient Grayce. (Chapter 12)

Hippocampic (hip-oh-CAMP-ick) adj. Of or relating to Hippocampes, the doubly legendary seapony known as the Father of Medicine. (Chapter 7)

Incitat (IN-sih-taht) n. Eighth month on the Equestrian calendar, analogous to August. Named for Incitatus, famed royal consort. (AC 2342-2407) (Chapter 5)

Marescovite (MAIR-scoh-vite) adj. Of or relating to the city of Marescow, located near Stalliongrad. n. A pony from Marescow. May or may not have a minigun named Sascha. (Chapter 7)

Mongoat (MOHN-goat) n. A member of the hordes of ancient Mongoatia, a region of scrubland and desert to the west of Equestria. adj. Of or relating to those hordes or that nation. (Chapter 9)

Multibanged (mull-tee-BAYNED) adj. 1. Of or possessing multiple exclamation points. 2. (Ankh-Morpork) Of or relating to a sign of mental instability. (Chapter 14)

Pegasine (PAY-guh-sign) adj. Of or relating to pegasi. (Chapter 2)

Ponnequin (POE-neh-kin) n. A pony-shaped mannequin. (Chapter 2)

Prancophilic (PRAIN-koh-fil-ick) adj. Admiring the language, culture, and/or ponies of Prance.

Ungula (uhn-GYOO-lah) n. The plane in which Equestria is located. At least one solar system in size. Noted for its total absence of humans, and relative scarcity of humanoids in general. (Chapter 7)

Inventions:

Cesium dragon: Mightiest of the little-known alkali metallic dragons. Famous among dracologists for its fire breath, which burns faster than the speed of entropy. Normally, this wouldn't even make sense, but dragonbreath, like dragons, is magical enough to make it work anyway. What this means is that the information of an object incinerated by cesium dragonbreath is preserved even though the object itself is not. Through the proper rituals of magiquantum entanglement, this can turn a cesium dragon into an instantaneous delivery system.
Note: Unlike many of their lesser cousins, most notably the sodium dragon, cesium dragons neither burst into flame nor explode when exposed to water. Please bear this in mind when attempting to slay one. (Chapter 8)

The Cloppler Effect: Identical to the Doppler Effect, the phenomenon where motion relative to the source of a sound makes that sound change in apparent frequency. (Chapter 14)

KLOP Radio: Radio Free Ponyville, home of DJ Pon3 and MC <3. (Chapter 14)

Muffylactery (MUH-phil-ack-tur-ee) n. A unique variant of magical prosthesis for the Equestrian pony (Equunculus filia) designed to replicate the flexible, spell-form magic of the unicorn subspecies in the others, who are normally limited to innate abilities. Similar in both functionality and design to the magic wands of several universes, these prostheses are generally composed of a core material with high thaumic capacitance encased in a magical semiconductor, usually a stable organic material such as wood. Each individual soul must be matched to a specific core/casing combination for optimal performance. Most such prostheses are modeled in the form of unicorn horns, but studies suggest that the shape of the casing can be as important as its composition, if not more so. Because of several commonly required core materials' exceeding rarity (sphinx hair), expense (stabilized rainbow), and/or inherent danger (cockatrice feather), they are more hypothetical applications of magic theory and curiosities of the rich than common items.
Ditzy Doo's muffylactery is self-made. The casing is composed of Zendikar hedron stone, noted for its high magic capacitance. The core's composition is unknown, as is who taught her how to make the device. (Chapter 1)

Postal abbreviations: CA - Califoalnia, CS - Cantershire, NY - New Yoke (Chapter 19)

Ramen feedbag: An application of one-use spell seals, in which a specific spell is coded to be cast upon the seal's destruction. In this case, the seal acts as a separating partition between two chambers of a disposable plastic nosebag. One side contains instant oats and dried seasonings, while the other holds water. Pulling the strap on the top of the container not only allows it the be slipped over the muzzle for a hand-free meal, but breaks the seal, mixing the wet and dry components and casting a weak heat generation spell. The end result is something resembling oatmeal. Cheap, easy, and very popular amongst college students. (Chapter 5)

Speedy Service: (5436-5509) The daughter of a restauranteur, she discovered her talent for communication at a young age and revolutionized the magical discipline of telepathy. Her work continues to be the foundation of most modern communication spells, including the silent tactical network of the Royal Mageguard. Sadly, vague and spotty records from the time have resulted in an ongoing debate amongst historians as to which of as many as five different unicorns was really Speedy Service. (Chapter 13)

Temporal omnipresence: The ability to perceive time from an objective, nonlinear perspective, a.k.a. being in two times at the same place. Or different places. Or more than two times. (Chapter 16)

Steepleplanechase

Over the course of the morning, there had been shouts, booming laughter, thunderous footfalls, thunderous thunder, and the blood-chilling battlecry of a supercharged fanfilly. While Ponyville emitted odd sounds at semi-regular intervals, very few of them had this level of persistence, and none of them had this specific blend of noises. As such, it should come as no surprise that an increasing number of ponies were being awakened by this unprecedented manner of cacophony, nor that many of them were milling about outside trying to figure out what in Celestia's name was causing all of it.

Obviously, the more ponies that did this and the longer they spent doing so, the greater the odds that somepony was going to get hurt. Luna, being a mare of reason and intellect, had deduced this long before it had become an issue. As such, she surveyed the village from the roof of the town hall until the number of bystanders had reached a satisfactory level.

Once that was the case, the night princess took flight above the centrally located administrative building, then cast a brief magical shadow over the area to bring everypony's attention to the sky. Just in case some residents hadn't gotten the hint, she cleared her throat while using the Official Royal Canterlot Voice. Satisfied that every eye was on her, she began a proclamation in the same. "ATTENTION, CITIZENS OF PONYVILLE! THIS IS THINE PRINCESS, LUNA DIANA HECATE REGINA NOX ALICOR! REST ASSURED THAT THE STRANGE AND PECULIAR ENTITIES WITHIN THINE VILLAGE ARE BEING BROUGHT TO HEEL BY THINE OWN DITZY DOO! FEAR NOT, GOOD PONIES, FOR SHE HAS EVERYTHING UNDER CONTROL! REMAIN WITHIN THINE HOMES AND ALL SHALL BE WELL SHORTLY! THAT IS ALL!"

As is often the case with the Royal Canterlot Voice nowadays, the listeners retained more about the volume of the message than its contents. However, one datum did manage to stick.

"Our lives depend on Derpy Hooves?"

"We're doomed!"

"Scream and run in circles! It's our only chance!"

Ditzy managed a double facehoof. She swore to never buy flowers again.

Luna, meanwhile, contemplated an experiment: When exposed to repeated blunt trauma, what would break first: her skull or the roof of the building?

Zannoria Karatine Golden-Harvest the Fifth, or Carrot Top, as she preferred to be called, was many things. Cordial business rival of Sweet Apple Acres. Long-suffering refrigerator refiller. Potential heiress to a multimillion bit corporate empire. And, in all matters involving Ditzy Doo, generous provider of benefit of the doubt. Thus, after Luna's decree, Carrot Top did not panic at the news that her fate apparently rested in her friend's hooves. Instead, she decided to track down said friend and get the details straight from the pony's mouth.

"Um, excuse me? Carrot Top?"

...Eventually. "Good morning, Fluttershhhhh..." The earth pony trailed off as she gawked at the soft spoken pegasus's steed.

"Oh dear, I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to startle you, and I'm sure Eric didn't mean to either." The massive larva, evidently named Eric, nodded enthusiastically.

The orange-maned mare collected herself. "It's okay. Just took me by surprise." She moved the subject to one less hostile to her sanity. "I was actually hoping I'd see you, Fluttershy."

"Bunny problems again?"

"Not lately. Have you seen Ditzy Doo at all today?"

The pink-maned pony shook her head. "Sorry. We only just got into town. I'll be sure to tell her you're looking for her if I see her."

Carrot Top smiled gratefully. "Thanks. I'll look on my own, too. I want to get to the bottom of this 'strange and peculiar ...entity' ...business." Once again, she stared at the giant worm.

The kindness elemental stared back. A beat later, it licked her face and made a delighted sound.

"Aww, he likes you!"

The earth pony could feel the massive cowlick (wormlick?) marring her manestyle. Patience honed from years of friendship with Ditzy Doo came to the fore. "I'm so glad."

Fluttershy gave a nervous grin. "I suppose we should be going. Good luck with finding Ditzy!"

Carrot Top gave a mild grin. "Thanks, but I've got a date with a brush first. Have a nice day, Fluttershy! And, um, Eric."

Trixie peeked through a shrub opposite the Carousel Boutique. Her eyes narrowed as she considered her target. After the fiasco that was her last visit to Ponyville, whoever ran this place would would undoubtedly exercise the right to refuse service. At least, if it was Trixie at the door. That was where one of the unicorn's newest spells came in.

Trixie closed her eyes and lit her horn as she began to invoke the magic. Mystic vapor billowed about her, condensing into an illusion. She'd be disguised as one pony selected at random from the population of the entire town. Surely local businesses would think nothing was amiss.

So went the theory, at least. When the smoke cleared and the showmare examined her new mint green coat, a darkly whispered "You" made itself known.

Swallowing nervously, Trixie pulled her muzzle out of the bush. Turning to face the speaker, the disguised unicorn beheld the unicorn who was her disguise. "Well," said Trixie, "this is awkward."

Lyra snarled and reared up, entering a pose that implied both imminent pain and uncanny balance. "I don't want any trouble," she growled in a tone that expressed just the opposite.

"What a coincidence," answered the nervous showmare, "neither do I." She could feel the edge of panic in her voice, the shot of adrenaline turning her attempt at a smile into a barring of teeth.

The poised anthropophile gave a derisive snort. "Tell it to Queen Doppelpopolous."

Before she could even ask "Who?", Trixie dived to one side to dodge a hoof that would've likely caved in her skull. Idly, she noticed a golden glow about the appendage, with a matching luminance playing over the other pony's horn. On a more relevant note, she found that she'd dived closer to the Boutique's door. She scrambled towards it, only to be...

She really didn't have a good sense of what was going on. For a moment, she thought the other mare was lifting her telekinetically, but there was no visible aura, and the force was concentrated at two points along her spine.

Lyra, meanwhile, had a firm grasp on the situation in a number of senses. She'd successfully cast the "hooves to hands" spell, she was holding and lifting something with said hands, and her worries about dopplegangers had been validated. "You wanna knock?" she quipped, "Let's knock!" With that, she used her duplicate's face as a battering ram. She got in two good swings before the door opened, sending both sprawling inside.

"Yes, yes, yes, what is it?" demanded Rarity. "The door was unlocked, you ruffian, and... Lyra? Is that you?" The fashionista looked from unicorn to the other. "Or is that you?"

The handed mare sprang to her feet, effortlessly bipedal. She pointed an accusing finger at her double. "I told you! I told you all! They walk among us, stealing our forms!"

"Yes, I suppose that is you, dear." The designer knelt next to the improvised siege weapon. "Are you alright? It seems that those fingers have gone to her head."

"Th' Great an' Powerful Audience'd like t' thank ya all. Y've been a wonnerful Trixie."

Rarity blinked in surprise, then focused her magic for a moment. The illusion sublimated, leaving a puff of smoke and a dazed blue mare. "Trixie! Why, I never thought she'd show her face in Ponyville again!" She considered this for a moment. "Hmm. Then again, I suppose she hadn't up to now."

Something about this filtered through the manual euphoria flooding Lyra's brain. "Since when could you do that?"

"What, dispel illusions?"

"Yeah!"

Rarity demurred. "Oh, it's just a little trick I picked up today. In fact, so did you."

Before Lyra could ask the obvious question, the crystal made contact with her horn.

As with any foal, Dinky's obedience of a given parental order was largely unpredictable. However, this was a special case. After all, this was her part in saving Ponyville from monsters that made even the Princesses worried! The filly certainly didn't want the destruction of her hometown on her conscience.

Unfortunately, her horn seemed to have not gotten the memo. While the young unicorn was still a few minutes' trot from Carrot Top's home, she felt what she could describe only as a full-body belch, followed by a persistent tingle in the troublesome appendage. The tingle quickly intensified to a strong tug in a direction almost totally opposite to her adopted aunt's house on the edge of town.

For a time, Dinky pressed on, struggling against the mysterious force, the streets of Ponyville like unto a perilous mountain slope. Eventually, the tug grew stronger than her little legs could resist, and the filly found herself getting dragged headfirst towards the heart of Ponyville. She made sure to remember which ponies were already out, about, and staring at her. After all, her mom would never believe this if she couldn't provide witnesses.

The two planeswalker ponies sped towards the gargantuapple. "Do we have a plan for that thing?" asked Ditzy.

"I've never really been one for plans," Pinkie replied lightly. "It's always more fun to just see what happens!"

"Even if what happens is us getting stepped on?"

The earth pony considered this for a moment. "Oh yeah. That'd be bad."

The pegasus gave a sigh. "What's your story, Pinkie? How'd you even find the time to do everything you said you did?"

"I never told you?"

This prompted an asynchronous eye roll. "Pinkie, you've never told anypony in town that you're a planeswalker."

"Not like I was hiding it!"

Ditzy conceded the point. "So, your origin?"

"Oh, right. Well, it started a few weeks after I got my cutie mark..."

Pinkamena's special talent was unconventional for the daughter of rock farmers, nopony could doubt that. Still, reasoned Clyde Pie, a little mirth and levity now and again never hurt anypony. Once some guidelines on a reasonable number of parties were established (along with plenty of reassurance that yes, he loved her parties, it was just that there was work to do,) Pinkamena's festivities quickly became the family's favorite thing about Saddleday.

A few weeks after the first party, Blinkastasia gave some disturbing news: sinkholes were appearing on the furthest edges of the north field with no apparent cause. "Diamond dogs, do you think?" Sue asked that night.

The Pie patriarch pondered his wife's proposition, then shook his head. "I looked for myself after Blinkastasia told us about the holes. They were still there."

Sue nodded, the conclusion obvious. "Dogs would've filled them in by then." Her expression turned grim. "Only one thing that'd be doing it then."

The bearded pony's only response was a nod.

"I suppose you'll take Pinkamena along with you? Show her what to do?"

He nodded again. "'Party pony' or no, she's growing up, and she'll going to have to learn how to properly tend the crop."

"Papa, what's a xorn?" Pinkie was so excited! A super special lesson, just Papa and her, 'cause she was a big pony and was gonna learn big pony responsimabilities!

"For most ponies, 'tisn't more than a curiosity. For us, it is a pest of the worst sort."

"Why?"

"It eats rocks."

The horrified gasp told Clyde that his daughter understood the threat this posed. "But... but those are our rocks!"

"That they are. Which is why today, I'll teach you what to do when a xorn starts nibbling on the crop."

Pinkie considered the other passengers in the Papa-pulled wagon: A small bag of gravel, an old plowblade, and a number six pickaxe. "It's not gonna be nice," she said quietly, "is it?"

"What we'll be doing? Neigh, it won't. But neither will the xorn. Feel not pity for the beast, Pinkamena. Like a great headless toad it is, naught like your sister's rabbits.

The filly gave a smaller, scandalized gasp. "You know about Inkie's bunnies?"

Clyde's face found itself smiling ahead of schedule. "Tis nary a foal that does not hide some secret from her parents, darling daughter, and nary one such secret the parents do not eventually discover." He came to a stop, expression again serious. "We've arrived. Look well upon the signs of the xorn."

"Okie dokie." As the filly hopped out of the wagon, her father had to hold back another early grin. So much of his mother in her. Her sisters were Sue's through and through, but PInkamena was in so many ways a little surprise.

Clyde ceased his woolgathering once he registered his child's actions. "Not too close now! The ground is weak where it has been chewed through."

"Oh!" Pinkie backed away from the anthill-like mounds, little hillocks topped with oddly neat cylindrical craters. She turned to her father. "Now what?"

"Now we must lure the beast out. A bit of gravel on the lip of the hole will do that." He'd begun to unhitch himself to fetch the bag when a slight sound hit his practiced ears. "Pinkie! To me!"

The filly made all haste. Papa only shortened her name when she was in danger. Unfortunately, this very rush was her undoing. Not five feet in front of her father, Pinkie stepped through a thin crust of dirt, tumbling into the chasm it hid. Clyde's anguished cry of "Pinkie!" echoed after her as she fell.

After a surprisingly long time spent falling, the filly concluded that a xorn was probably not responsible for the sinkhole. What was, she didn't know, but it had made a tunnel crackling with something like lightning, dropping from striking red to soothing blue for what seemed to be forever and a mile. Eventually, she hit the ground.

Pinkie's eyes had been shut, anticipating the pain of impact, but it never came. Eventually, she stood and opened her eyes curious to see if she could even see so deep underground. To her surprise, she could. To her even greater surprise, she was in a library.

There weren't a great deal of books on the rock farm. Almanacs, scripture, and geology textbooks, mostly. Here, there were shelves as far as the eye could see, bindings of every color of the rainbow, and no discernible holes in the ceiling. Actually, there was no discernible ceiling in which holes might form. Just bookshelves and scroll racks stretching up to infinity.

Confused, alone, and increasingly worried, Pinkie did the first thing that came to mind. "Hello?"

A boisterous male voice answered her. "Hmm? My word, is it that time already?" The filly looked around, but the sound seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. "Ah, so it is, so it is. Best greet my guest." With that, the speaker appeared before her as if by magic (which was exactly how he did it.)

Pinkie gawked at the being before her. She'd never heard of humans, so she didn't know what to call him. She'd never heard of pygmy marmosets, so she described his hair and beard as simply "poofy." She had, however, heard of manners. "Hello," she squeaked.

The strange figure knelt down and adjusted his monocle to get a better look at the young pony. "Well, well," he bubbled, "how delightful. How simply delightful." He gave a smile and ruffled her mane, eliciting a giggle. "Hello, my little pony. My name is Commodore Guff."

"I'm Pinkie Pie!" answered Pinkie Pie, her energy returning as she determined that this stranger was nice. "You've got a lot of books!"

Guff sat on the floor and puffed up with no small amount of pride. "Thank you."

"How'd you get them all under the farm?"

This prompted a bit of confusion-induced deflation. "I'm sorry?"

Pinkie gave another giggle. "Why? You didn't do anything."

She's a child, Guff thought to himself. I need to be direct. "Why do you think we're under your farm?"

"Well, I was in the north field, then I fell and fell for a really, really long time, and then I was here."

"Ah." Oh dear, ruminated the bearded fellow, how do I explain this to one so young? "Sadly, we are not under your farm, Pinkie."

"Don't be silly, silly! If we aren't under the farm, then where are we?"

May as well bite the bullet, Guff old boy. "You have travelled thousands of years into the past, my little pony, and even further in space. Equestria hasn't even been made yet."

Ditzy narrowly avoided flying into the side of a house. "What!?"

"Yeah, it took me a while to come to terms with it. A regular doozy among doozies."

"But... but..." The pegasus bit back an incoherent scream. "This just raises further questions!"

Pinkie shrugged. "Hey, we gotta keep the readers interested somehow."

Carrot Top looked over her reflection critically, then nodded in satisfaction. It had taken another shower and considerable brush work, but her orange curls were back in position. She was now a bit behind schedule, but she could easily make up for the lost time, especially if Twilight Sparkle wasn't ready to get back to her on the feasibility of a retina scanner lock for the refrigerator door.

The tuber specialist was headed for the front door precisely when a knock came from it. For the second time that day, she opened it and was struck dumb by astonishment. "Ah... You... How... When..."

To his credit, Angel Bunny waited until she could get out a coherent string of phonemes. Once the earth pony had managed to name her new guest, he gave a wave. He couldn't do much more. The language of Lagomathematic consists mostly of coded thought impulses and the occasional emphatic gesture and is not pony-brain-compatible.

Carrot Top, however, had almost as much experience with the hare as Fluttershy. After all, when one tended a carrot crop, altercations with rabbits were inevitable. However, when faced with a specimen of Angel's intellect, pest control became a battle of wits on par with that of Aristrotle and Mashy Spike-Plate, infamous philosopher-khan of the Mongoat hordes. As such, Carrot could guess why her nemesis had come to her front door. "Fluttershy came by less a bit than an hour ago, heading further into town. You know about the giant worm... thing?"

Angel nodded.

"Well, she's riding it." After a moment of internal debate, the farmer said, "Good luck."

The rabbit smirked and snapped off a salute, then set off in pursuit of his quarry.

As the earth pony watched the rodent vanish into the distance, her brain actually processed what had just happened. She decided to add a stop by Berry Punch's place to today's errands.

Years in the past

In a world in perfect balance between flesh and spirit, there is a river. At the source of that river is a shallow cave. Inside the cave is a place of the utmost peace and tranquility. The susurration of a distant waterfall mixes with the lesser rivulets that stream from floor to ceiling to drown out pointless thoughts. Paper lanterns hung by previous visitors sway in a gentle, continuous breeze that soothes the body and stimulates the mind. Carved into one wall of the cave is a large, somewhat abstract bas-relief. The depicted figure clearly has three arms and a nice hat, but beyond that what is real and what is symbolic is difficult to say.

The serenity of the cave and the use of present tense were both interrupted by a sudden violent burst of light and sound, buffeting the lanterns and briefly soaking the walls. As the display petered out, the formerly unattended shrine now had two beings before it, a man and his pony. Or possibly vice versa.

"Good, we've arrived on target," observed Tezzeret. "You're a fairly quick study."

"Yeah..." Ditzy was occupied by her own thoughts. According to the human, the bubbles on her flank had been there when he'd brought her to Ravnica.That meant that her cutie mark had appeared either just before or during her first planeswalk. The second one supported this supposition. The Blind Eternities, for all of their chaotic roiling of time, space, energy, and possibility, made sense to her in ways that the sky didn't. Navigating through twelve dimensions (on average) had proven as instinctual as flying through three was supposed to be. Sure, it was a thin, threadbare silver lining on a gigantic black cloud, but at least it was something.

A tap on the head brought the pegasus back to reality. "Sorry. Were you saying something?"

Tezzeret took a moment before shaking his head. "Nothing important."

Ditzy finally registered their surroundings. "Wow! What is this place?"

"The plane is called Kamigawa. More specifically, we stand before—"

He was interrupted by the ambient breeze suddenly intensifying into a gale. Ditzy, remembering her flight school training, folded herself into a seated position, keeping as little surface area exposed as possible. Tezzeret simply put his flesh arm in front of his face and muttered, "Drama queen."

The winds impossibly shifted direction, becoming an ever-tightening vortex centered on the description-defying sculpture. With an explosive burst of air that sent the lanterns bouncing off the cave ceiling, the wall was rendered blank.

In front of that now smooth expanse of stone, however, hovered the very being it represented. It was very approximately humanoid, its face largely hidden beneath a wide straw hat. A jagged slit in the headwear allowed a single piercing eye to peer through. Three arms were evenly arranged around the base of its neck, each holding a katana. The rest of its form was draped in garments that weren't robes so much as they were bolts of fabrics waving in a continuous unfelt breeze as they receded into infinity. That there was a small, decidedly finite space behind the being did not seem to matter.

In a fluttering, howling voice like a library caught in a hurricane, it spoke. You stand before the honden of the Myojin of Seeing Winds.

Tezzeret, having seen all of this before, was less than impressed. He nudged the still huddled pony with a boot. "You can get up, Ditzy."

Hesitantly, she did so. As she opened her eyes, she gave a brief shout before screwing them shut again.

Both of the shrine's other occupants looked at her quizzically. "What's wrong?" asked the artificer.

"It's too bright..." The pegasus had her forehooves draped over her eyes. She didn't know what she was looking at, but her vision saw it as a blue sun. One that was about five feet away from her face.

A horse that speaks? The bombast of the Myojin's earlier monologue was replaced by curiosity. It sheathed its blades and drifted closer to Ditzy, prompting further whimpering.

"Indeed." For his part, Tezzeret at least looked concerned about the effect the godlike being was having on the pony. Or maybe it was just gas. It's hard to tell with him. "I believe I've fulfilled my part of our agreement, wouldn't you?"

Quite, the spirit said absently. As promised, knowledge for knowledge. One of the fluttering lengths of cloth rolled itself into a cylinder, becoming a scroll case in the process. The Myojin tossed it to the human. Written there are the acts performed by the Most Venerable and Insightful Crucius in Kamigawa.

Tezzeret essayed a deep, if brief bow. "You have my thanks, ancient one."

The kami gave a vague nod as it considered the shuddering pegasus before it. It mused aloud in a voice of ocean surf and scratching quills. She perceives Our glory in a way that few mortals ever have.

"I'm sure it's quite flattering."

Intriguing, certainly. But one's being unable to withstand the presence of another does not readily lead to a fruitful exchange of ideas. We shall rectify this situation. The embodiment of an entire plane's blue mana laid his hand on the pony's brow.

Ditzy looked around, but there wasn't anything to see. It was like being inside a cloud. Nothing but colorless opacity as far as the eye could see. Strangely, though, she could still see herself, which hadn't been the case in her numerous other experiences with being stuck in a cloud. "What's going on?"

"We stand within a thought."

The pegasus turned and beheld a king.

There have been many guesses as to why Celestia has never taken the title of Queen. Humility. Image. Respect for her mother, wherever She may be. The alicorn standing before Ditzy clearly had no such qualms. A proud stallion, he stood at least two and half times as tall as the adolescent pony. His wings and horn were impeccable. His coat was a deep lustrous blue, bordering on indigo. His mane seemed to treat gravity as a quaint suggestion, billowing behind him like a cloud, shimmering in shades from the near white of a desert sky to the almost-black of the ocean's depths. Its colors swirled lazily, like a personal cyclone. But the most striking aspect of the strange stallion was his near total lack of adornment. His sole accessory was, of all things, a straw hat of a style Ditzy had never seen before.

The pegasus boggled vacantly at this stranger for some time before coming to her senses and prostrating herself.

This prompted a bit of soft laughter from the diety. "Rise, rise, dear child. I receive enough worship for my tastes. You need not add yours."

Ditzy hesitantly went to her hooves. "S-sorry, Your Highness. I've just n-never met royalty before."

The alleged royal blinked, nonplussed. "Royalty?" He pondered this for a moment. "A monarch of sorts, I suppose, though 'pentarch' would be a more accurate term. In any case, though I may be near to them, I am by no means among the highest of the high."

"Then why... how...?"

"Ah! I see." He shook his head. "As I said, young one, we are within a thought, a dream. What you see is what your mind chooses to make from the reality. You see me as a king because a king is the closest your mind can come to what I am."

Ditzy scratched at the not-ground with a hoof, digesting this tidbit. "Then how do I look to you?"

The alicorn raised his eyebrows. "I do not believe I have ever been asked that question. I am not certain if any kami has been asked that by any mortal." He smiled. "Do you know what you have done, child?"

The pegasus thought for a moment. That seemed to be a genuine, happy smile. "...Something good?"

"Oh yes. Yes, indeed." It may have just been her brain struggling to make sense of impossible input, but to Ditzy, the alicorn began to trot animatedly around her. "You see, there is one thing that I value above all else. Above worship, above virtue, above even foiling the plots of certain honored siblings of mine." He stopped in his procession and looked to her. "Do you know what that is?"

"...Your hat?"

The blue god paused for a moment at this, but his conversational momentum spurred him back into action. "Close, but not quite. No, what I value above all other things is the new. That which I have not already experienced, which I do not already know." His gaze suddenly became arresting in its intensity. "Sea and sky are my eyes. Wind and wave are my ears. There is not a single thing done in air or water in this world that I do not witness." He blinked. Ditzy realized that she had been holding her breath. "So, you can imagine how excited I am when something novel presents itself to me."

"Um, yeah." When did her heart start beating at jackhammer frequencies?

"I do not encounter the new without gratitude. You may ask of me a boon, as your comrade did."

"Tezzeret?" The other horseshoe finally dropped. "You're that blue thing?"

The alicorn made a great show of spreading his blue wings and moving his blue head from side to side, taking in his blue flanks. "Why yes. I suppose I am."

Ditzy felt a blush rising and bit her lips, unknowingly causing a scrunchy face.

The Ponyojin of Seeing Winds smiled to himself. "I believe I know what boon will be of greatest help to you."

The pegasus shook herself out of the oncoming fugue. "What?"

Energy danced along the kami's horn, glowed in his eyes, danced in his mane. From his chest emerged a disturbingly human hand, making an arcane gesture. Insight.

Tezzeret sighed. The problem with dealing with the spirits of Kamigawa was, to put it in a familiar context, that they had no middle gears. A kami of rage was always angry, all the time. A kami of deception couldn't be trusted, not even to be untrustworthy, as it might mix in the truth now and then just to keep you on your toes.

And, when working with the ultimate embodiment of knowledge on the plane, one had to expect truly, literally, terribly ultimate knowledge. Every minute detail, catalogued and cross-referenced, with absolutely nothing left out. That meant that after going through several yards of scroll, Tezzeret had covered a stretch of time encompassing all of seven seconds.

Analysis of the scroll case indicated that it bore some manner of space-distorting enchantment that made it significantly larger on the inside, so the manuscript very well might literally go on for miles. But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was obvious to someone familiar with the mind of Crucius the Mad, inventor of etherium, sphinx of questionable sanity, and planeswalker of unknown position in space and time.

Like any sphinx, Crucius loved riddles. However, his riddles were often designed on a planar scale. Or larger. If his actions on Kamigawa did hold some clue to his current whereabouts, they would no doubt require a careful reading of the entire transcript to understand. Literally nothing could be dismissed as inconsequential.

"No one said it'd be easy," noted Doc Jest.

"I don't want it to be easy," answered Tezzeret. "If it were easy then it wouldn't be worth doing. I just want one or two steps to not entail insane leaps of logic and a complete redefinition of who I am as a person."

"Oh, that. I hear you there, buddy. And I just have to put up with the noise from next door. I can't imagine what that's like for you."

The artificer was about to inquire more deeply into this when a pulse of air burst from the still forms of Ditzy Doo and the Myojin of Seeing Winds. Both had been motionless since the spirit had touched the pony's forehead, a good ten minutes by the human's estimate. Now, both stirred, the pseudogod repositioning itself in front of its shrine, the pegasus trying to get her eyes to at least approach alignment.

Tezzeret began rewinding the scroll. In a sarcastically bright tone, he asked, "Well, how did everything go?"

"It was..." Ditzy groped for a word that could sufficiently encompass everything that had just happened. She settled on "enlightening." She bowed to the Myojin. "Thank you."

It has been Our sincerest pleasure to be of service to you, Desiderata Planeswalker.

The man with the metal arm chose now to ruin the mood. "Are we quite through here? I don't mean to be rude, it's just that I'm on a tight schedule with a strict enforcer."

Ah. Yes. A noticeable chill entered the spirit's voice. The one who expressed his wrath on Our Most Honored Sister. There was a sound like a man slicing a river in half, or possibly vice versa, as the Myojin drew his swords. We have conferred with Our other August Siblings on the matter. We Four have, in a momentous occasion, come to a consensus, not only amongst Ourselves, but with none other than the Most Gracious and Vigilant Sisters of Flesh and Spirit. When the presumptuous lump of rotting yak semen that refers to itself as Nicol Bolas next attempts to mar Our world with his noisome presence, he shall meet the full fury of a universe scorned.

Tezzeret, who in spite of himself had a decent instinct for the dramatic, waited a beat before replying, "Well, I suppose we'd best being getting on our way, then. Coming, Ditzy?"

The pegasus shook herself out of the astonishment caused by the kami's grim declaration. "Oh, um, sure. Where are we going?"

"Back to Ravnica. I'm calling in a favor."

Rarity critically examined the appendages coming out of her forelimbs. She just couldn't see what Lyra saw in the things. Yes, the gifts of Generosity could make the reasons behind the green unicorn's predilections clear as day, but frankly Rarity didn't want to know. As far as she was concerned, any practical benefits these... "hands" might provide were far outweighed by the aesthetic havoc they wreaked.

A single knock on the door, more of a "thud" really, brought the designer out of her contemplation. With a thought, she dismissed the graspers and rendered the crystal encasing her horn perfectly transparent. No sense in frightening off customers, after all. Having made herself presentable, she answered the summons. "Welcome to the Carousel Bou— Dinky Doo?"

Indeed, it was Ditzy's foal, looking rather peeved at something. "Hello, Miss Rarity."

"What brings you here, darling?" Rarity guessed it was some event calling for formal attire, judging by the filly's demeanor.

"This," answered Dinky, pointing to her horn.

A look of surprise flashed across the fashionista's face before a knowing smile settled there. "Dragged you all the way here, didn't it?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

Rarity held back a titter at the child's look of amazement. "Something similar happened to me around your age, though I wasn't brought to anywhere nearly as fabulous." She cleared the doorway. "Come in, come in, unicorn magic never happens without a reason. We'll find your special talent before you can say 'haute couture'!"

Dinky seemed unsure. "Mommy told me to go to Auntie Carrot and keep myself safe from the monsters."

"I assure you, Dinky, I will keep you safe as safe can be and bring you back to your mother sporting a brand-new, breathtaking cutie mark."

"Well, okay, I guess..." As the filly entered the shop, a thought came to her. "Hey, is Sweetie Belle home? Can she try fashiony stuff with me?"

Rarity betrayed no visible reaction to this question, a testament to both her self-control and the generosity elemental's stabilizing influence. "Dear, Sweetie has tried everything one can do here several times. She may insist otherwise, but her talents clearly lie elsewhere."

"Hey!" The pony in question indignantly stomped downstairs. "That's not what you told me!" Rarity facehoofed. Dinky stared. Sweetie Belle looked from one to the other, confused. "What?"

With tact typical for her age, the blonde filly broached a pressing subject. "Wh-what happened to your horn?"

"Huh?" Sweetie looked up. "Oh. Oops." In her rush to call out her sister, the curly-maned foal had forgotten to hide the blue crystal encasing her horn.

Her sister sighed and shook her head. "So much for my good deed of the day. Jean, I believe that this is your cue."

The sisters heard a reply of Of course. Dinky simply saw the largest gemstone she'd ever seen pop out of a walk-in closet, followed by four of the second largest gemstones she'd ever seen. A monster! And it had taken over Sweetie Belle and Miss Rarity! The filly's pupils contracted to pinpricks, her legs paralyzed by fear.

One of the smaller crystals drifted towards her. In all previous cases, once the elemental made contact with a unicorn's horn, the unicorn briefly lapsed into a calm passivity as her mind was integrated into the growing gestalt.

Dinky did not follow this trend.

Once the jewel slipped over the tip of her horn, Dinky began screaming. The octohedron stopped moving and began to glow from within with vivid multicolored light. The filly began whipping her head back and forth, trying to dislodge the source of a terrible, ever-intensifying pain.

The sisters stared in horror for a moment before Rarity demanded, "What are you doing to her!?"

The elemental did not generally experience emotions. Being a creature of crystallized magic, it lacked the requisite glands. As such, the edge of nervousness creeping into its otherwise calm reply might have just been Rarity projecting. There has been an anomaly.

"I can see that! How do we fix it?"

Sedate her.

The purple-maned pony sorted through every spell known to three unicorns and came up short. "How?"

Sweetie Belle, meanwhile, was trying to keep Dinky calm, or at least from hurting herself in her thrashing. She had registered the hot-and-cold running dialogue, but paid no conscious attention to it. However, in her subconscious, necessity knew desperation and begat invention. "Hush now, quiet now, it's time to go to bed..."

The crystalline entity paused in its explanation of how Rarity's aspersions on its parentage were ultimately insulting herself. There has been a shift in Dinky Doo's state of consciousness. Just in time to avoid permanent damage, no less. Well done, Sweetie Belle.

"Sweetie Belle?" Rarity turned to the two fillies, panic forgotten in the wake of the crisis's resolution. "Why, dearest, whatever did you— Oh."

Both foals were fast asleep, Sweetie draped across Dinky. As the designer smiled at the heartwarming sight, the crystal on the blonde filly's horn resumed its progress into her skull.

Ditzy had to admit, for a hot pink, hyperactive party animal with volume control issues, Pinkie Pie was quite good at stealth when she wanted to be. She had managed to hop off of Screwball and sneak behind Applejack wholly unnoticed. Well, up until she said, "Hi, Applejack!"

"Mornin', Pinkie. Pinkie!?" The farmer's surprised leap would've probably been quite impressive. However, a harness grown from the honesty elemental's crown was keeping her from falling, and a jump is just falling up. Thus, the orange mare did a fair imitation of an inelastic paddleball instead. As she got herself back on her hooves, she asked, "How in Celestia's name didja git up here?"

"Oh," Pinkie said smugly, "I have my ways. I have my ways."

"Uh huh." A quick look up found a probable cause. "Ah'm sure ya didn't get 'n airlift from Ditzy Doo."

"Mayyybe."

Ditzy shuddered for a moment. Whoa. Deja vu. Shaking it off, she landed on the mobile fruit butte. "Applejack, we need to talk."

The freckled pony raised an eyebrow. "Ah reckon so. Ya ready t' answer honestly without no fancy truth magic?" She smirked. "If'n y'll pardon th' double negative."

The pegasus sighed. "That's really not important right now. What is is—"

It was at this point in time that her daughter began to scream. Once amplified through the generosity elemental, Dinky's uncontrolled magic made that cry resonate in the ætheric fundament of the plane itself. What that sentence magical technobabble actually means is that a mother heard her child screaming in pain. The reaction should come as no surprise. "Dinky."

The earth ponies blinked. "Did you hear thunder just now?" asked Pinkie.

Applejack shook her head. "Nah, that there was the sound o' air fillin' in space where a pegasus in a big ol' hurry was standin'. Dash causes 'em all th' time." She looked towards Ponyville, the direction in which a grey blur had briefly been visible. "Never knew Ditzy Doo o' all ponies could do it."

"A parent will go to incredible lengths for a child."

The farmhoof looked at her friend in wonder. That tone had been downright sedate compared to Pinkie's usual exclamations. It even seemed... sad? Was such a thing even possible? "Pinkie..."

The party pony turned, voice bright and bouncy as she was. "Yeah?"

Applejack shook her head. Then she realized she needed to say something. "Y'know, yer ride done went an' left ya here. How exactly are ya plannin' on gettin' down?"

Pinkie Pie shrugged. "How are you?"

The orange mare opened her mouth to reply, only to realize she had no answer for that particular question. "Ah'm bein' a silly pony, ain't Ah?"

Her friend nodded and put a foreleg over her shoulders. "Best leave it to us professionals, dear."

Applejack sighed. "Ah s'pose Ah was bein' a might excessive with Ditzy, too. Pony's got a right t' her own business, after all."

Pinkie nodded enthusiastically. However, whatever she was going to say was overwritten by the sudden appearance of a sheepish looking purple pony. "Screwball! What's up?"

"Ehehe..." The avatar gave a nervous grin and brought her forehooves together a few times.

"Uh, Pinkie, who's—"

The party pony delivered a decidedly unfestive glare at her summoning. "Screwball. What did you do?"

The avatar hesitated for a moment, then spilled her (thankfully proverbial) guts. "Amorphous beluga chimney doctrine, elephant frangible gregarious." She hastily added, "Halogen iota jejune!"

"Oh, wonderful." Pinkie gave a sigh that told of long-suffering endurance of incompetent minions. "Well, go find Fluttershy."

Screwball hung her head. "Zanzibar..." She flew off as guiltily as a spiral-eyed, beanie-propelled manifestation of chaos can.

Applejack looked at her friend with a new wariness. "Uh, Pinkie? Care t' explain what in the name o' pie crust just happened?"

"Later. Right now, we have bigger concerns."

"Like what?"

As if in response, the world seemed to tilt back, accompanied by a sound like a mountain threatening to fall over. As the view returned to its normal orientation, Pinkie replied, "Like a one-apple stampede."

Blessing of Seeing Winds 3UUU
Sorcery - Arcane
Blessing of Seeing Winds can't be countered if you cast it from your hand.
Choose a card type. Draw a card for each permanent you control of that type. If you cast Blessing of Seeing Winds from your hand, you have no maximum hand size for the rest of the game.
With the Kami War over, the Myojin himself spread secrets of healing and restoration among mortal minds.