Pandelirium

Chapters

Chapter 10: Down and Out
Chapter 9: Piss and Vinegar
Chapter 8: Help Me From My Brain
Chapter 7: No Such Thing
Chapter 6: The Pony To Bet On
Chapter 5: Devil's Night Auction
Chapter 4: Thin the Herd
Chapter 3: The Deadening
Chapter 2: Hammer and Tongs
Chapter 1: Where’s the Devil When You Need Him?
Prologue: Everything I Ever Wanted To Do...

Chapter 10: Down and Out

The doors of the throne room burst open, revealing two alicorn princesses wearing looks of grim determination on their faces. However, despite the suddenness of their entrance, the object of their ire hadn’t even batted an eye. “Took you long enough,” commented Discord, the chimeric King of Equestria. “Busy powdering your noses, were you?”

“Nay,” Princess Celestia said coldly, “we have merely stopped to add ornamentation to our barding.”

It was then that the draconequus actually bothered to look at his opponents, and when he did, his jaw dropped to the floor. The alicorns were in full battle regalia; Celestia’s armor was made of polished brass, while Luna’s was formed from chromed steel, but neither of these facts was all that surprising. No, the shock came from the modified peytrals around their necks, into which six familiar-looking gemstones had been mounted. After several flustered seconds, Discord decided to feign nonchalance. “Oh, I, uh, see you’ve retrieved the Elements of Harmony from my defenses,” he said as his slouch in Celestia’s throne became more exaggerated. “I, um, congratulate you on your ingenuity! So, uh, would you mind explaining how exactly you got them back?”

Princess Luna couldn’t resist a smirk as she stared down the usurper who sat on her sister’s throne while using her own as a makeshift footstool. “Oh, we did not regain the Elements, Discord. ’Twas they that returned to us, for upon our return to our palace, they did activate of their own accord and overpower the magic thou hadst set against them.”

This was surprising enough to get the draconequus to drop any pretense of disinterest. He sprang to his feet and shouted, “But it was chaos magic! It should be anathema to Harmony!”

“All the chaos in the world can not separate the Elements from their chosen Bearers,” Celestia replied firmly as she and her sister began to walk towards the despotic creature. “And now thou shalt pay for the disorder and confusion thou hast needlessly inflicted upon our little ponies.”

Growling, Discord began to hurl spell after spell at the alicorns, though not with any particular care; corrosive spurts of aqua regia burst forth from the draconequus’ claws, only to be followed by harmless streams of ordinary water. What appeared to be bolts of lightning ended up being bits of honey, while the pillows he conjured up turned out to be denser than lead, with one of them slamming into Celestia’s head with enough force to dent her brazen helm.

It was as though Discord was just throwing out any idea he could think of in the hopes that one of them would stop his opponents’ advance. Indeed, the only tactic that he used with any consistency was to send torrents of sour eggnog through the chamber, pushing the alicorns backwards and obscuring their vision—but even this success was short-lived, as the Princesses began to take cover behind the debris that had been accumulating from Discord’s frantic attempts to slow down their progress.

For their part, Celestia and Luna occasionally shot back with spells of their own, but their main tactical goal was to ensure that Discord couldn’t get out of the way when they used the Elements of Harmony, and physically closing the distance seemed a more sensible plan than trying to incapacitate him from afar.

Discord was just about to hurl a ball of what appeared to be either marmalade or napalm when the sisters made their move. Luna galloped forward, conjuring a magical shield for protection while she charged at the draconequus as if she intended to smash him with her earth pony strength. Gleefully, Discord whipped out a large red cape, waving it in front of himself like a target, only to deftly sidestep away moments before the impact.

“Ha! You disappoint me, Luna. You’re supposed to be the smart one, yet you actually thought brute force would be enough to stop me?”

The blue alicorn smirked once again at her foe’s naïveté. “Nay, yet I did think ’twould be enough to distract thee.”

It was then that Discord realized that he didn’t see Celestia in front of him, which in turn implied that he had his back turned to her. He turned around and saw a huge, dark grey storm cloud floating mere trots away from him, with the white alicorn hovering directly behind it. The draconequus let out a resigned sigh. “Hoo, boy.”

Princess Celestia grit her teeth and bucked the cloud as hard as she could, sending out a half dozen bolts that struck Discord’s body, lighting him up like an oversized firefly and briefly revealing his rather bizarre skeletal structure. When it was over, the badly singed draconequus slumped onto the stairs of the royal dais.

Luna cantered over to her sister’s side and spoke to the usurper. “Thy reign is over, Discord.”

Even as he lay on the ground, with his defeat imminent, the draconequus’ voice still exuded defiance: “Oh, come on! This is totally unfair. All I wanted to do was to have a little fun, that’s all.”

“I know, my friend,” Princess Celestia replied, her voice cracking as the jewels in her brazen armor began to glow as brightly as her sun, “and I am sorry.”

——————————

To the average pony, Penumbra Noctis appeared to be a regular pegasus, notable mostly for the unusually dark hue of her blue coat, her somewhat aloof personality, and her decidedly unique career as an artisan cloudsmith in an age of mass-produced weather. Of course, appearances can be deceiving, but in this case, the average pony knew that as well. The wake of Twilight Sparkle’s recent defeat of Trixie Lulamoon had made public the fact that Penumbra had trace amounts of unicorn and earth pony magic mixed in with her pegasus magic, meaning that she was, in fact, an alicorn like Princess Celestia and Princess Luna.

Indeed, only a few months ago, she had been a little too much like them for her own good, as she had begun her existence not as a foal, but as Princess Luna’s paranoid vision of a power-mad Celestia who had manifested into the real world by some still-unknown means. In this new form, she’d corrupted Luna into becoming Nightmare Moon, and a little over a thousand years later, she nearly repeated the feat with Twilight Sparkle. Fortunately for all involved, Pinkie Pie (who was a being of similar nature to Penumbra, having once been Twilight’s imaginary friend) had not only put an end to this insanity; she had found a means to rehabilitate the Nightmare by taking on most of her earth pony magic and giving Twilight most of her unicorn magic.

The whole situation was a bit complicated, which was probably why most ponies seemed to prefer Pinkie’s explanation: “Twilight tried out a new magic spell, and now we’re alicorns, but most of the time we look like normal ponies.”

However, once the secret was out, changes began to occur quite swiftly indeed. Rumors that the three alicorns would be crowned Princesses of Equestria broke out within hours, but to the surprise of many a celebrity tabloid reporter, only two-thirds of those rumors ended up being true. For although Twilight Sparkle and Pinkie Pie had both agreed to their coronations, Penumbra had declined, choosing instead to be invested with the newly created title “the Duchess of Everfree.” The investiture ceremony had been a relatively low-key affair, with few ponies present besides friends, dignitaries, and would-be sycophants who wanted to ingratiate themselves with the newest member of the nobility. In contrast, the coronations of Twilight and Pinkie (to be held simultaneously to economize their budget) were in their second month of planning, with the actual ceremony still weeks away.

At the moment, however, Penumbra and her friends were taking a break from the hustling and bustling to wait in the middle of the grassy meadow just outside of town. Naturally, there was a very sensible reason for the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony, the Duchess of Everfree, and the Most Adorable Dragon Twin Brother Ever be waiting in the middle of a field, and this time it wasn’t because Rainbow Dash had heard a rumor about new strain of super-delicious wild bluegrass in the area. No, they had been asked to gather here by Princess Celestia herself, who was due to arrive in minutes, along with somepony who’d only been described as a “very important guest” in the Princess’ initial letter to Twilight Sparkle.

“I’m sure it’s just some dignitary who wants to meet the princesses-to-be before signing whatever agreement Celestia’s trying to work out,” Rainbow Dash said, the tone of her voice unmistakably bored as she idly nibbled on a dandelion.

“If that were the case, though, would she not have invited us to Canterlot?” Rarity asked. “After all, we’ve all been commuting there on a fairly regular basis recently.”

“Perhaps Princess Celestia wants us to help her with some sort of pressing crisis,” Twilight Sparkle said absently as she ran through the assorted contingency plans that she had filed away in her head. “It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.”

Even as the conversation continued on, Penumbra opted to steer clear of this sort of speculation, partly because she found it entertaining to listen to her friends’ theories, but mostly because she already knew who Celestia’s guest was. The Princess had told her about this plan soon after Twilight’s duel with Trixie, as she was to play one of the central roles. Thus, she sat on a cloud-cushion she’d recently designed, allowing herself to be amused with their theorizing.

“Ooh! I know!” Pinkie Pie chirped. “I bet her guest is one of those really, really sick foals from one of those wishing charities, and he or she wants to hang out with us because we’re all totally cool and awesome and they’ll be so happy that they’ll just get up and get better without even trying. Wow, that’s great! This calls for a party! Say, Applejack, is one of your barns available?”

“I’m sure I can get some space for ya, even on short notice, but don’t ya think that somepony from that sorta charity would be the one bringin’ the foal here? Why would Celestia tag along?”

“Didn’t you hear the part where I mentioned how we’re all totally cool and awesome?”

“Hmm... I like that idea, Pinkie,” Rainbow Dash said, her mood brightening. She quickly finished eating the remainder of the dandelion hanging out of her mouth before continuing, “After all, my pure, unadulterated awesomeness has definitely rubbed off on all of you, so who wouldn’t want to spend time with us?”

“Um, well, it could be Discord,” Fluttershy abruptly proposed as she stared into the blue sky.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Twilight said dismissively. “Why would Celestia want us to have anything to do with that nutcase?”

Spike, who had joined Fluttershy in staring at the sky, had an answer: “Uh, because she doesn’t normally take his statue for rides in her chariot?”

“What are you talking about, Spike?” asked a rather confused librarian. “That doesn’t make... any... sense....” Twilight trailed off as she joined her friends in their skywatching and saw a rapidly descending pegasus-drawn chariot coming towards them. Sure enough, there was Celestia, and on her left side was Discord, his petrified form looking just as shocked as it did the last time he’d been in Ponyville.

Penumbra dismounted from her cloud and joined her friends in bowing to their ruler as the chariot’s wheels settled onto the grass. “Greetings, my little ponies,” Celestia said as she stepped out of her chariot. “I trust that you are all having a pleasant day?”

None of those present gave an immediate answer, as they were too entranced by the sight of the Royal Guards hauling Discord’s petrified body onto the ground. It wasn’t until the statue had hit the grass with a dull thud that anypony ventured to speak. “Princess Celestia,” Rarity began, “is that... Discord?” She eyed the stone draconequus, desperately hoping that this was some sort of royal prank.

“Naturally,” the Princess replied. “I hope you will treat him with respect during his stay in Ponyville.”

Twilight Sparkle stepped forward and haltingly addressed her mentor. “Um, Princess Celestia?”

“Yes, Twilight?”

“You, um, you said that me becoming a princess... it makes me your equal, right?”

If Celestia noticed the awkwardly stilted phrasing of Twilight’s question, she gave no indication. “It does indeed,” she replied, still smiling as warmly as ever.

“So, um, well, that means that I’m allowed to give you my opinion, right?”

The Princess covered her mouth with one of her forehooves as she chuckled softly. “Twilight, you’ve always been allowed to do that. You just have a habit of avoiding it until you have no other options.”

The purple unicorn blushed slightly, but continued, “Oh, well, um, in that case, don’t take this the wrong way, but...”

“Yes?”

“Have you lost your mind?!” Twilight abruptly shouted. “Why did you bring Discord out here? He’s too dangerous to be anywhere but the Royal Sculpture Garden, preferably under a twenty-four hour guard!”

For a moment, a vague wisp of disappointment flashed across Celestia’s eyes, but otherwise she took this comment in stride. “You are quite correct; Discord does indeed pose a risk to the ponies of Equestria. That is a major reason why he is here.”

“Oh?” Rainbow Dash said, flying over to the white alicorn. “You want us to use the Elements to finish the job, then?”

Celestia slowly shook her head, causing wide ripples to appear in her ethereal mane. “I am not certain that such a drastic course of action would even be effective. After all, Discord has never needed to obey the same rules that everything else in the universe does, much like Pinkie Pie’s first iteration as Surprise.”

Taking the unintelligible mumbles and awkward fidgets that followed as a grudging acceptance of her point, Celestia continued: “In the long run, I believe that Equestria’s interests will be best served if we can reform Discord. No spell can hold back a being as chaotic as him indefinitely; even if I regularly reinforce the seal, eventually, there will come a time when this land has a ruler who knows nothing of Discord. To put it simply, eventually, the magic keeping Discord in his stone prison must deteriorate, and when it does, he will doubtless take the opportunity to wreak fresh havoc on those Equestrians unfortunate enough to be alive at the time.

“I am not merely concerned with the welfare of ponies alive today, but of those yet to come, and it is for their sakes that I ask you to help me avoid the situation I have just described. In much the same way that Pinkie Pie was able to convince the Nightmare to change her ways and become a productive member of Equestrian society, I believe that the magic of friendship will be able to show Discord the error of his ways.”

“Um, Princess Celestia?” Pinkie Pie said with some trepidation in her voice. “You do realize that I probably wouldn’t have convinced Penumbra that she needed to be Penumbra if Twilight hadn’t beaten her senseless, right?”

The alicorn screwed up her muzzle in what appeared to be mild annoyance, though it was not at all certain whether this irritation came from being asked a somewhat patronizing question or from having overlooked a genuine flaw in her reasoning. “That may be the case,” Celestia eventually answered, “but these are different circumstances. Your effort to redeem Penumbra was an improvised attempt to take advantage of a particular situation, whereas Penumbra has been making plans for Discord ever since I first proposed the idea to her.”

The other ponies turned their attention to their friend, who raised one of her eyebrows, but otherwise retained her stony demeanor. When this facial gesture failed to dislodge the attention she was receiving, Penumbra tried posing a rhetorical question: “Did you really think I had avoided contributing anything other than cloud sculptures to the coronation without a good reason?”

Since the others present chose to respond with silence, Princess Celestia elected to continue. “Now, I hardly need to explain that this plan is not without risks, most of which stem from Discord’s considerable power and his willingness to use it, seemingly at random. Thus, I have also brought the Elements of Harmony with me.” The Princess’ magical aura lifted a golden box out of her chariot. The box opened, and Celestia distributed five necklaces and one tiara to their respective Bearers. “Now, although I have enchanted the Elements to prevent Discord from stealing them again, I would advise you to avoid taking them off unless absolutely necessary. Should Discord prove to be a danger to Penumbra or anypony else, you are free to use them at your discretion to petrify him again.”

Despite some uncertain murmuring from Celestia’s audience, the Element-Bearers all adorned themselves with the most powerful magical artifacts in Equestria. “Thank you for agreeing to help,” the alicorn said, punctuating her sentence with a sincerely warm smile before turning towards Penumbra. “And I must once again thank you for taking on this challenge. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to return to Canterlot. The upcoming coronations have created some... well, let’s call them ‘unexpected diplomatic headaches.’” The Princess received a round of goodbyes from her friends and climbed back into her chariot, which soon rose into the air and sped off towards the Equestrian capital.

“So, how does this work?” Rainbow Dash asked the cloudsmith as the ponies watched Celestia’s chariot shrink into the distance. “We release Discord, and then you become his friend, and everything’s just hunky-dory?”

Penumbra nodded as she looked over the statue more closely, carefully examining its details. “That was Princess Celestia’s initial idea, and I think it’s a very reasonable one.”

Applejack pushed back her hat and scratched her head. “I dunno... you really think that’ll work?”

Penumbra’s nostrils flared as they released a derisive puff of air. “Are you kidding? Of course it won’t work.”

“But... didn’t you just say it was a good idea?”

“No,” the pegasus replied sternly as she began pacing in front of the petrified draconequus, “I said it was a reasonable idea, but it wasn’t a compliment. This is Discord we’re talking about. He delights in turning reason on its head. He’ll do everything he can to subvert any plan so straightforward.”

“But if you can’t do that, then what can you do?” Spike asked with some concern in his voice.

“I would rather avoid going into full detail at the moment,” Penumbra replied, “mostly because there’s a good chance that Discord can hear our conversations, even as a statue. I like to play my cards close to the chest, if you’ll pardon the gambling metaphor.”

Twilight Sparkle shifted her weight from hoof to hoof uneasily. “Is it really a good idea to just ignore what Princess Celestia has to say?”

“Celestia has given me full discretion in plotting the course of Discord’s rehabilitation. I can provide you with copies of all the documentation, if you wish to view them. Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to begin.”

Twilight let out a resigned sigh as she walked in front of the petrified draconequus. “We might as well get this over with. Okay, girls,” she said to the other Element-Bearers, “form a circle around Discord.” Once the others had reluctantly complied, the librarian began to concentrate, and soon the Element of Magic was glowing a bright pinkish-white. The five other elements reacted accordingly, adding their own hues to the building rainbow and lifting their Bearers off of the ground.

Seconds later, the stone form of Discord was bathed in magic as the Elements began to undo the spell that had sealed him up little more than a year earlier. Cracks and crevices began to disfigure his marble patina, each one emitting rays of white light. Soon, the veneer’s structural integrity had weakened to the point where it all fell away in a pile of rubble, allowing the figure beneath to move around freely once again.

“-OOOOOOO my goodness, it does feel wonderful to move around after being stuck in place for so long,” Discord said as he floated in the air, stretching out his limbs and cracking his vertebrae. Several seconds later, he landed in the midst of the assembled ponies. “Well then,” he said in a suspiciously eager tone of voice, “shall we proceed?”

Rarity wasn’t the only pony present who was confused, but she was the first to give voice to her confusion: “Ah, Discord, would you mind explaining what you’re talking about?” she asked the chimera as cautiously as she could.

“Why, with my reformation, of course! Or did I misunderstand that little conversation you had with Celestia? Having your ears turned to stone can make things a little difficult to understand at times.”

This was not exactly the reaction that anypony had expected. “Uh, ain’t ya gonna try an’ start causin’ chaos now that you’re outta that statue?” Applejack asked, voicing the confusion that was plain on the faces of most of her friends.

“Now why would I want to do that?” Discord asked with a pained expression on his face, placing his paw over his chest as if to suggest that he’d been wounded by such an insulting assumption. “I am here to seek your counsel so that I may walk once again upon the path of righteousness.”

“Uh, Discord?” Rainbow Dash asked with as she flew up to the draconequus’ head and gently rapped it with her hoof a few times, causing odd metallic clunks to echo across the field. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m certain that he is feeling perfectly well, darling,” Rarity said derisively. “He’s more than likely lying in order to set up some ghastly idea of joke.”

The draconequus, however, shook his head rapidly. “No, it’s true! Celestia has sold me on the ennobling qualities of virtue, and I am quite ready to begin my lessons. I assure you, you will find me to be a most attentive student.” As if to accentuate his point, he created a private school uniform out of thin air (a female uniform, naturally) and sat down at an undersized desk that looked oddly similar to the ones found in the Ponyville schoolhouse.

Twilight seemed rather skeptical. “I don’t care what the plan is. Even if you cooperate at first, you’ll probably just be biding your time until you have another chance to seize control of Equestria.”

Discord rolled his eyes for a brief moment before smiling broadly at the princess-to-be. “I hardly think you’re a moral authority on the dangers of being power-hungry, Ms. Sparkle.”

The librarian looked notably chagrined—she hadn’t expected her attempt to orchestrate a bloodless revolution to come up in this conversation. “That... that only happened once.”

“Only once? You must excuse me, because if my memory serves me correctly, your first instinct upon my arrival was to question Celestia’s mental faculties. Again.”

“I was just speaking figuratively!”

“Oh? So that’s a valid excuse, then? I need to write this down.” Discord fished around in a backpack that had popped into existence next to his desk until he found a pencil and notebook and began scrawling out sentences across the lined surface. “Okay, let’s give it a try, shall we?”

The draconequus sent the desk, uniform, and backpack back into the ether and popped up between Rarity and Spike. He draped an arm around the white unicorn, and, ignoring the look of revulsion this action produced on her face, began to strike up some conversation. “So, Rarity, how has Tom been doing lately? I hear he’s a real gem—figuratively speaking, of course.”

“That is not how figurative language works, you... you brute!” Rarity said indignantly.

“On the contrary, I’m fairly certain that it is... Oh, that’s right. You thought Tom was literally a gem, didn’t you?” Discord chuckled as Rarity’s face was distorted by a potent mix of anger and humiliation.

“Hey!” Spike shouted. “You can’t just insult her like that!”

“Now, you see, Rarity?” Discord said, gesturing towards the purple dragon. “That is speaking figuratively. Spike has informed me that I can’t do what I literally just did, which would make no sense if he was being literal. See? We’re all learning today! Isn’t education wonderful?”

Applejack decided to take charge of the conversation as Spike consoled Rarity. “You know, considerin’ that we got the Elements of Harmony and all, do you really think it’s a good idea ta remind everypony why we don’t like you?”

Discord shrugged his shoulders. “Well, you know what they say about old habits,” he replied, though the grin on his face suggested that his weren’t about to die hard any time soon. “Speaking of which, I hear you’ve managed to pick up a particularly nasty one yourself.”

“The hay’s that supposed to mean?” Applejack said, squinting her eyes as she dug her hooves into the ground.

“Well, it seems that ever since our first encounter, you’ve had a tendency to try lying to get yourself out of problems.”

“What?! You take that back! I ain’t no liar, exceptin’ when I’m dealin’ with your antics.”

“Oh, really? Then what happened at that rodeo competition I heard about?” Discord produced a lasso ex nihilo and roped a nearby cloud, which soon began dropping red second-place ribbons on top of the earth pony.

“Uh, well, that wasn’t technically lyin’. I was just... er....”

“Encouraging your friends to believe something that wasn’t true. Oh, I’m so sorry for not making that distinction.”

Applejack groaned. “Okay, so I had a lapse of judgement. But that was only once.”

“Indeed... and what about your attempted solution to young Master Spike’s adorable little Dragon Code? Or does attempting to stage a fake timberwolf attack so you can pretend that your life is in danger not count as a lie either?”

The farmer was starting to get really flustered by this scrutiny. “But... but it’s not like I was tryin’ ta be selfish! I just wanted to give him a way ta save face, that’s all.”

“Ah, so lying is acceptable as long as you have good intentions. I’m learning so much from all of you today!”

Applejack angrily stamped one of her hooves into the ground. “Now, look here, you overgrown jigsaw puzzle. You’re takin’ isolated incidents an’ usin’ them ta try an’ make it sound like that’s how I am all the time, but everypony here knows that just ain’t the case.”

“Is that so? Then what about that little family reunion you organized?”

At this point Twilight Sparkle interjected, “What are you talking about, Discord? Applejack didn’t do any lying when that happened.”

At this, the draconequus covered his mouth as he gasped audibly. “You mean you didn’t tell them what you did?” he asked the farmer.

Before Applejack could answer, Rainbow Dash suddenly spoke up. “Huh? AJ tried to lie her way out of that problem, too?”

The orange earth pony’s voice suddenly sounded very strained, as if she was using all her willpower to keep from screaming at the top of her lungs. “No, I didn’t,” Applejack seethed, squeezing her words through clenched teeth. “This flea-bitten, snaggletoothed varmint is just tryin’ ta get all y’all ta distrust me so the Elements won’t work right.”

“Perish the thought!” Discord said, affecting a melodramatic tone. “I only wish to help you overcome your personality flaws before they become more severe. I assure that I have only your best intentions in mind.”

“You sure got a funny way of showin’ it,” Applejack replied, clearly unwilling to let this matter drop.

“Well, I’m sorry if I’m a bit out of practice at being good,” Discord said, landing on the ground once again. “Perhaps I can give it a try right now.” He glanced around until he found a new object for his attentions. “Ah, Fluttershy!” the draconequus exclaimed genially as he approached the nervous-looking pegasus. “I feel that I should perhaps apologize for my actions the last time we met.”

That was definitely not what Fluttershy—nor anypony else, for that matter—had expected to hear coming from the draconequus’ mouth, which only made the pegasus even more apprehensive. “Y-you do?”

“Of course. My blatant use of mind control to turn you into a cruel, self-serving nag was totally unwarranted.”

“Oh, um, well, if you’re truly sorry...”

“I am!” Discord said in a tone that vaguely resembled earnestness. “I never would have wasted the effort of using magic if I had known I could do the same thing by shouting hackneyed catchphrases at you.” Discord ended with a smirk that made Fluttershy cower on the grass as she looked back at her antagonist with a mix of fear and humiliation in her eyes.

“Hey! That’s not an apology!” Spike shouted angrily from where he was still consoling Rarity.

“I suppose that’s true,” the draconequus conceded. “Then again, as a wise minotaur once said, ‘Never apologize when you can criticize.’” Discord paused to flex the rippling muscles which had spontaneously appeared over his body before cackling with mad laughter. He then scanned his audience, apparently trying to decide which pony would next be graced with his charming wit. His eyes made contact with those of Rainbow Dash for the briefest of moments before he snaked his way over to the second earth pony in the group. “And how could I forget—”

“Hey!” Rainbow Dash shouted, flying in front of the draconequus’ head so she could stare him directly in the eyes. “Don’t you ignore me like that! You think you can get away with spewing that crap about my friends and just pass me over like a coward? Come on, give me your best shot!”

Discord blinked a few times, and then stiffened his spine, drawing himself up to his full height. He briefly coughed into his lion’s paw to clear his throat, and then, in a clear, formal tone of voice, solemnly pronounced: “Let it be known that Rainbow Dash is so self-centered and egotistical that she became offended when I didn’t hurl a thinly-veiled insult at her.”

As one might imagine, Rainbow Dash did not take this lightly. “What?! I said that because I was standing up for my friends! That’s not self-centered!”

“Oh, really? Then why didn’t you bother defending them when I actually insulted them?”

Much to her embarrassment, the pegasus couldn’t think of an answer. “Um, I... well, you see... that is... shut up!”

Discord responded with a few condescending chuckles as he gingerly patted Rainbow Dash on the head. “Why don’t you be a good girl and keep quiet while the adults are talking?”

It was at this point that Spike decided that he’d had enough of Discord’s antics. Sure, the draconequus was much bigger and more powerful than he was, but if standing up to bullies wasn’t part of the Noble Dragon Code, then he was going to write up a new index card and add it as soon as he got home. Leaving Rarity’s side, he marched towards the chimera, stomping as aggressively as his stubby baby dragon legs could manage. “Listen, you—”

“Ah ah ah,” Discord interrupted. “I said that there was to be no interrupting the adults. Now, why don’t you go play with the other children?” With that, he picked up the baby dragon and casually tossed him over his shoulder into a playpen that had sprung up around Rainbow Dash.

“Hey! You can’t treat my twin brother like that!”

Discord seemed surprised and a little put off by this outburst, but his face softened considerably once he’d found it’s origin. “Of course... how could I forget Pinkie Pie?” Discord asked rhetorically as he zipped back over to the pink earth pony, whose face was uncharacteristically frowny and angry. “Why on earth didn’t you tell me you were a fellow imaginary friend? Our first meeting could have been so much more enlightening.”

If he had meant for this comment to clean the proverbial slate, it failed spectacularly. “I hadn’t even told my friends about that yet,” Pinkie said icily. “Why would I have told you?”

Discord rolled his eyes. “Ugh... what is it about a royal title that turns a normal fun-loving pony into a stick in the mud?”

“Probably the fact that your idea of ‘fun’ involves being a great big meany-pants,” Pinkie answered, narrowing her eyes into a squint.

The draconequus ignored this jab, however, and glided over to the only pony present he had never actually met. He bowed low to Penumbra and solemnly intoned, “Well, if it isn’t the Duchess of Everfree. Allow me to properly introduce myself. I am Discord, monarch emeritus of Equestria.” He lifted one of the pegasus’ forehooves from the ground and daintily kissed it.

“Let me guess,” Penumbra said. “Celestia let slip that I’d be the pony in charge of reforming you, didn’t she?”

“Actually,” Discord said as he slithered through the air around the cloudsmith, “she didn’t even try to hide it. She told me that I’d be able to relate to you, since you’re a reformed imaginary jerk, too.”

“She actually called you a jerk before dropping you off here?” Twilight said, recoiling in shock at the mere thought of such an occurrence.

“No, but she would have if she thought I might not notice. Trust me, I spent several years bouncing around in her head.” Discord’s vocal register had lowered drastically by the end of this sentence, and he was glaring in the general direction of the Royal Palace. However, mere seconds later, his tone had once again become suspiciously bright and chipper. “But enough gossip—we’re here to begin my reformation, correct? Well, then why don’t I just make this easy for everypony involved. I, Discord, promise to be a good citizen, and to use my magic for the cause of justice from this day forth. Cross my heart, hope to fly—”

“Ooh, sorry,” Pinkie Pie interrupted, “but I’m not obligated to enforce any Pinkie Promises that I don’t approve of in the first place.”

This response clearly left Rainbow Dash confused. “Wait, why wouldn’t you want Discord to be good?”

“It’s not about what I want Discord to do,” Pinkie explained. “It’s what he actually would do that’s the problem. You see, if I agreed to enforce that Promise, and then he went out and did something not-nice, I’d end up unlocking pretty much all of my imaginary friend powers to put a stop to it, and something tells me he’d like nothing more than to find out which one of us is actually more powerful.”

“Spoilsport,” Discord grumbled in a much lower register than he’d used thus far—apparently, he’d been hoping to do something along those lines. If so, he did his best to reestablish the light and airy tone of the conversation by sticking out his surprisingly long tongue at the pink earth pony and flicking the end of it back and forth across her muzzle, eventually causing her to sneeze.

“Fascinating though this discussion may be,” Penumbra said drolly, “its subject is very much a moot point, as I have no intention of having Discord make any Pinkie Promises whatsoever.”

“Indeed? Then what would you have me do, o taskmaster?” Discord asked glumly as he absentmindedly enlarged several dandelions until their yellow blooms were big enough to be used as pom-poms.

“I don’t really think it’s best to view my plan as a drudgery-filled chore. I prefer to think of it as more of a challenge—a contest, if you will—and one that builds on the many skills that you already have, at that.”

“An intriguing proposition,” Discord said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “but I don’t play games anymore—unless there’s a prize for winning, of course.”

“That’s perfectly understandable,” Penumbra said, nodding solemnly. “And I have planned to give you a most exceptional prize indeed: should you fulfill the terms of our agreement, my friends will not use the Elements of Harmony on you. Ever.”

Discord opened his mouth to answer, but he was interrupted by a cacophony of shouts from the Element-Bearers, who had clearly not expected anything like this. Between the earth ponies and unicorns who’d surrounded her, the pegasi flying overhead, and even Spike, who popped up under Penumbra’s chin to throw in his two bits on the topic, the Duchess of Everfree learned little from this outburst other than the fact that her friends did not approve of her plan. For his part, Discord conjured up a large, overstuffed recliner and a massive tub of popcorn and settled back to enjoy the show.

Penumbra eventually held up a hoof to silence her critics. “It seems that I have misspoken.”

“You’re darn right you have!” Rainbow Dash shouted.

“As a group, the Element-Bearers will not be promising to refrain from using the Elements of Harmony on you,” Penumbra told Discord. “However, as only one of them needs to refuse in order to prevent that from happening, Applejack’s promise not to use the Element of Honesty will have the same effect.”

“Hold up there!” Applejack interjected. “Why in Tartarus would I agree to do that?”

Even if the question was intended to be rhetorical, Penumbra decided to act as though it wasn’t. “I’d like you to agree because I want you to be the final judge and arbiter of whether or not Discord has actually fulfilled the terms of the contest. Despite his rather transparent attempt to convince us otherwise, you are the Element of Honesty. Thus, you can not only be trusted to give Discord a fair chance at succeeding, but you can also ensure that he does not engage in any cheating. Is this acceptable?”

A mildly pained look washed over Applejack’s face, giving the distinct impression that she wanted to answer with a firm “no” even though she couldn’t find much that was objectionable in Penumbra’s proposal (besides the obvious, anyway). “Yeah,” she eventually drawled morosely, “I s’pose I’ll go along with it.”

“This is all very fascinating,” Discord remarked as he nonchalantly cleaned some grit from underneath one of his eagle talons, “but you seem to have forgotten that I have yet to agree to your little proposition. I assume that I will have to demonstrate that I have come to appreciate the importance of friendship or some other la-dee-dah nonsense.”

“Oh, no,” Penumbra said, shaking her head vigorously. “That criteria is far too subjective for something of this magnitude, even with the decision in the hooves of a pony renowned for her integrity. No, I have something much simpler in mind.”

This seemed to pique the draconequus’ curiosity, as he raised an eyebrow and floated right next to the pegasus. “Is that so?” he said. “Then what, may I ask, shall be object of my efforts?”

Penumbra’s smirk radiated all of the confidence of somepony whose machinations were going exactly as planned. “All you have to do,” she said, pausing briefly to add to the dramatic effect, “is make me laugh.”

——————————

Trixie Lulamoon had been on the run for several weeks, but she still wasn’t entirely certain why. Ever since the Alicorn Amulet had shattered from the strain of her last duel with Twilight Sparkle, her flight instincts had been working overtime. She started by heading northeast along the unicorn range, before turning east and then south through the Everfree Forest before eventually emerging in the swamps, bogs, and marshes that covered the southeastern corner of Equestrian territory. After spending several miserable days slogging eastwards through the muck, mire, and mosquitos, the disgraced showmare had finally emerged into the region that local ponies referred to as “the Badlands,” a particularly foreboding valley in the Macintosh Hills scarred by dozens of dry, rocky canyons.

Although these formations mercifully sheltered Trixie from the scorching heat of the midday sun, they offered no such protection from the chill of night, when fierce north winds swept through the canyons, making life utterly miserable for a unicorn who had only her flimsy cloak to separate her from the elements. Trixie’s initial plan to stay warm by moving at night was foiled by the labyrinthine layout of the rocky grooves, which were almost impossible to navigate after sunset, even with the mare’s most powerful lighting spell. Apparently, these formations weren’t called “Badlands” for nothing.

In the rare moments when she wasn’t struggling against Equestria’s most inhospitable landscape, Trixie found herself brooding over her failures. Just when it seemed that she’d finally bested Twilight Sparkle, her rival went and revealed that she’d been holding back the entire time. Even though the Alicorn Amulet had given Trixie power beyond her wildest imaginings, Twilight had turned out to be an actual alicorn. Granted, the few newspaper articles she’d been able to read had said that her rival was “magically unbalanced,” which was of little comfort, as that apparently meant that Twilight Sparkle was a weakling earth pony, a flightless pegasus, and quite possibly the most powerful unicorn who had ever lived. It was as though the universe was laughing in Trixie’s face, and it was this, more than any threat of criminal charges, that kept the showmare moving; if she settled down for too long, her ugly and humiliating past would eventually catch up with her.

However, all of Trixie’s problems came to a head on her fourth day in the Badlands, when a freak rainstorm erupted over the region, drenching her to the bone and causing her to scramble to find high ground before she could be swept away by flash floods. Had anypony been around to see her, they might have thought she was a drunken goat from the way she sloppily clambered along the side of her canyon, looking for slippery hoofholds in the sheets of rain that seemed to become more torrential by the second. More than once, Trixie came perilously close to sliding off the rocks into the surging water below her as she frantically looked around for anything that could grant her even the most rudimentary shelter. Eventually, she spotted a wide ledge above her which appeared to just out from a shadowy opening of some sort. She began her awkward approach towards her goal, along the way learning through near-disastrous experience the kinds of lessons most mountaineers learned in controlled settings. But at last, scraped and bruised, she finally reached her goal as she heaved herself up on the ledge and looked at the shadowy area she’d spied from below...

...which turned out to be nothing more than an ordinary shadow.

“No...” the showmare said disbelievingly. “This... this was supposed to be a cave. Or... or at least an overhang of some sort.” It didn’t take very long, however, for self-pity to morph into anger. “You stupid slab of rock,” Trixie said as she glowered at the sheer cliff face through the downpour, “I need a cave right now!” The bolt of energy that shot from the showmare’s horn surprised her—in her frustration, she hadn’t even realized that she’d allowed that much energy to build in the first place. The magical energy seeped into the cliff, which absorbed it like a sponge sucking up water. At first, nothing happened, but that soon changed when a low rumble, ten times louder than any thunder Trixie had ever heard, began to shake the ground around her. A series of glyphs and archaic symbols appeared in the rocky surface, which began tearing like a piece of worn-out fabric. When the rumbling finally ceased, Trixie found herself staring at the entrance to a dark—and dry—cavern. She looked around the cave opening, only to see that the glyphs had already begun to fade. She stood there in the pouring rain until they had receded completely into the wall. Briefly, she wondered whether it would be wise to enter this cave of such uncertain origins, but she banished this thought from her mind. Trixie had asked for a cave, and Providence had seen fit to give her one. Steeling her resolve, the showmare walked out of the rain, and into the cave’s arid darkness.

Chapter 9: Piss and Vinegar

Considering who they were intended to confine, the seals that Discord had placed on the sisters’ cave weren’t particularly strong. However, they didn’t need to be. Luna soon determined that they were designed to alert Discord if they were broken, which in turn meant that the draconequus would be able to confront them before they could meet up with any allies they might have. Of course, this also meant that they were completely cut off from the outside world.

The lack of food and water wasn’t really a problem. For one thing, they were alicorns, and were therefore under no obligation to leave the mortal coil until they were good and ready, equine physiology be damned. For another, both of them were sufficiently skilled mages to transform the many rocks around them into the various necessities of life. Rather, their problem was an aggravating mixture of uncertainty and boredom. Cut off from the skies they loved so much, Celestia and Luna began rearranging the crystals they found deeper inside in an effort to make it feel more like a home, but it did little to ease their worries.

They were putting the finishing touches on one such chamber when they were interrupted by a loud blast and a bright, green light as the seal over the cave’s entrance abruptly crumbled. The two alicorns rushed towards the disturbance, expecting to see Discord returning for further gloating, but instead, the sunlight (beautiful, warm sunlight!) revealed three ponies standing in the entryway, one from each of the races.

Celestia recognized the unicorn, a pale blue mare with a shaggy, multicolored mane, as Rainbow Connection, head of the Mages’ Guild, but the pegasus and earth pony were unknown to her. “We bid you welcome,” she said diplomatically, “though perhaps now is not the best time for pleasantries, for surely Discord will be aware that his seal has been broken, and shall arrive here straightaway.”

“That is unlikely,” Rainbow Connection replied, “for he is currently engaged in a struggle with the remaining members of my guild, who are using all their power to prevent a permanent solar eclipse even as we speak. They are receiving assistance from the Cloudsmiths’ Guild and the Miners’ Guild, who are doing what they can to divert his attention through their skills.”

“How did you find us?” Celestia asked. “My sister and I were under the impression that this cave’s entrance appeared as bare rock to the naked eye.”

“Indeed it does, your Majesties,” the mage answered, “and that is how we found it. The maps and charts in the Miner’s Guild’s archives indicated a large cave in the area, but when pegasi from the Cloudsmith’s Guild were sent to search for you, the entrance was nowhere to be found. The scholars of my guild theorized that it had been sealed and hidden by powerful magic, which is why I traveled with my fellow Guildmasters so that we might use our abilities to release you from your captivity.”

“This effort is most admirable,” Luna said, “and yet we can not help but wonder why your Guilds felt the need to send your most honored representatives, rather than delegate the task to more junior members. My sister and I were given to understand that we were no longer desired as Equestria’s rulers.”

The three ponies looked quite embarrassed at this. “Your Majesties, please forgive our foolishness,” the unicorn said, bowing deeply. The pegasus and earth pony followed suit. “After you left, Discord transformed from a pony into something... monstrous. He has turned all of Equestria into a madhouse, raising the sun and the moon on a whim, turning the sky green, red, and yellow, transforming the waters of our rivers into hollandaise sauce, and... and...” Rainbow Connection trailed off, clearly disturbed by whatever she had left to say.

Of course, this unfinished statement did not sate either sister’s curiosity, so Luna bade her to continue: “And?”

It was the earth pony who broke the silence. “He... he’s destroyed the Everfree Plains! It’s become a horrible, malevolent forest where plants grow of their own accord, animals care for themselves, and the weather refuses to yield to the pegasi!”

Celestia sighed as she gazed at her hooves. “I am sorry to hear of this.”

“Why would he do this?” the earth pony asked. He seemed to be begging for any sort of explanation that could make sense of what had happened.

The white alicorn pondered this conundrum for a bit. “Well, ’tis possible he wishes to bring us further sorrow by tormenting our subjects, or...”

“Or... what?”

“...or he simply finds it amusing.” The utter resignation in Celestia’s voice left the distinct impression that she believed the latter of these explanations to be true.

“Your Majesties... can you forgive us? Will you help us?” Rainbow Connection asked.

Celestia only needed the briefest moment of eye contact with her sister before answering. “We shall forgive you,” she said evenly, “and all shall be set right.”

———————————

Discord looked absolutely stunned when he heard Penumbra’s terms. “Let me get this straight. If I make you laugh, I basically get to do whatever I want?”

“That’s a rather simplistic way to put it,” Penumbra replied with a roll of her eyes, “but yes, it’s more or less the case. Is this acceptable?”

“Acceptable? This is the best thing I’ve heard in years! You’ve got yourself a deal,” he said, shaking the pegasus’ hoof enthusiastically as he cackled with glee. “I can’t believe Celestia thought you’d give me a hard time. Let me guess: professional courtesy?”

“I am no longer interested in political power,” Penumbra said. “And I think you’ll find your task more difficult than you may initially think.”

“Is that so? It seems as though your friends think differently.” Indeed, most of the Element-Bearers had panic-stricken looks on their faces, which, as it happened, quite accurately projected their collective certainty that Penumbra had just given Discord a no-strings-attached victory on a silver platter. However, had the draconequus bothered to take a closer look at their audience, he might have noticed that Pinkie Pie’s expression was not one of worry, but rather a look of dawning (if still somewhat concerned) comprehension.

For his part, Discord continued to giggle victoriously. “I think you’ll find, my dear, that I can make anypony laugh with hardly any effort. Observe,” he said confidently as he placed a finger on top of Penumbra’s head and pressed down.

The Element-Bearers looked on with nervous apprehension as Discord infused their friend with chaotic magic—with the exception of Fluttershy, who flinched and started staring at a copse of trees located in the opposite direction. Seconds passed as all waited for the grumpy pegasus to begin cracking up. Then, suddenly, just when it seemed that Discord’s magic might have failed... absolutely nothing continued to happen.

“Oh, come on, what gives?” the draconequus said with irritation grating his voice as he viciously poked the top of Penumbra’s head a half-dozen more times. “I was sure my magic was working just fine a moment ago.” Scanning the ground for something to test his malfunctioning digit on, Discord spotted a daisy near Rainbow Dash’s hooves. One finger-flick later, and the weatherpony was scrambling to fly out of the reach of a horrifically fanged daisy-beast. Discord, however, was too busy trying to figure out what had gone wrong to fully enjoy the sight. “Well, if it isn’t that, then what could it be?” When nopony elected to assist Discord in his speculation. he returned to his previous efforts to poke the giggles into Penumbra’s head.

However, the Duchess of Everfree was far less willing to tolerate such antics the second time around; her customary frown had intensified into a scowl. “Discord, do you seriously think I would have made that offer if I didn’t already have some resistance to mind control magic in the first place?”

Discord looked rather confused by this query; rather than answering it, he scratched his head and asked one of his own: “How exactly did you get the impression that I think seriously?”

Penumbra didn’t particularly feel like letting the conversation go in that direction, so she answered her original question instead. “Well, I wouldn’t have. So unless you think that you’ll get a laugh out of me by giving me noogies, I suggest you try something else.”

“Something else, eh? Hmm....” The draconequus tapped his lizard foot absently against the ground as he stroked his upper lip and pondered his options. “Let’s see... if poking you in the head didn’t work, perhaps poking you in your soft underbelly will!”

“What?” But the crafty draconequus had already slunk his way beneath Penumbra, and before she knew what was happening, he’d started poking her repeatedly in her stomach. “Hee hee ha aha ha... stop it!”

“You bet I will, now that I’ve won!” Discord said. “I made you laugh! I get to do whatever I want now! Go Discord, it’s your birthday—”

“Not so fast,” Applejack said. “Ticklin’ don’t count.”

“Says who?”

“Says me, an’ Penumbra said I’m the final judge. It’s pretty obvious to me that Penny meant that you were s’posed ta make her laugh by doin’ somethin’ funny. That’s just a physical reaction.”

“And how do you know that?”

“I know it cuz she went back to bein’ a sourpuss like normal the second you stopped.” In reality, this was merely the reason the pegasus had stopped laughing. She was being a sourpuss because Applejack had referred to her as “Penny.”

“No fair! You didn’t say that when I agreed to this!”

“You didn’t let me,” Applejack replied. “You just jumped right into your little mind control trick, which, by the way, wouldn’t’ve counted even if it had worked. Now, how ’bout ya hush up an’ listen to my rules?”

“Fine,” Discord groused, crushing the still-snarling daisy monster under an anvil.

“Ya get ta do what you wanna if you can make Penumbra laugh, but you ain’t allowed to force her to do it. You understand?”

“Yeah, sure,” he replied, lowering his voice to mutter indistinctly about somepony being “as bad as those killjoy Princesses.”

However, once he’d finished his private grumblings, Discord seemed unusually diplomatic about the situation. “Very well,” he said. “It seems as though I’ll have to put some thought into this one, so I think I’ll retire for the day. I presume that I’ll be staying with you, Ms. Penumbra?”

If the draconequus had hoped that his sudden shift back into politeness would catch the ponies off-guard, he was mistaken. “Heck no, you won’t be staying with her!” Pinkie Pie said angrily. “She lives in my head, and I don’t want you anywhere near there!”

“Why not?” Discord asked in mock astonishment.

“Because I don’t like you,” Pinkie said bluntly, which caused genuine astonishment among her friends. Sure, Discord wasn’t exactly the first person that the pink pony had disliked, but it wasn’t often that she stated that sort of thing to someone’s face.

“Oh, what a pity. No matter. I shall arrange my own lodgings, then.”

“No way,” Twilight Sparkle said, stamping a hoof onto the ground. “You need to be supervised.”

“Then it seems that you have a bit of a problem, don’t you?” Discord pointed out as he gave them his most devilish grin.

———————————

After some rather heated discussion, most of which revolved around the reasons why Penumbra couldn’t move out of Pinkie’s head and house Discord herself, Applejack eventually volunteered to put the chimeric troublemaker up in one of the spare barns at Sweet Apple Acres. This was partly because her farm was located well away from the homes of most of Ponyville’s residents, but mostly because this gave her a better chance to catch him in the act of doing something nasty so she could declare Penumbra’s ill-considered scheme null and void before Discord could cause too much havoc.

To the surprise of absolutely nopony, when the apple farmer dropped Discord off at Cloud Nineteen the next morning, she looked like a complete wreck. Her mane was disheveled, her baggy eyes seemed unable to focus, and she was extremely irritable. In short, Applejack reminded Penumbra of the stubborn, sleep-deprived memory that she’d met during her stay inside Twilight Sparkle’s mind. “Er, did he give you a lot of trouble?” the pegasus asked the earth pony in a somewhat apologetic tone. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she was that she ought to have asked Applejack for permission before saddling her with all this authority.

“Oh, no,” Applejack said with an uncharacteristic sneer. “That blasted son of a parasprite didn’t give me no problems all night!” Discord, for his part, stood nearby attempting to look as innocent as possible, though if anything, the angelic glow and ethereal choir that surrounded him made him seem even guiltier than usual.

“What did he do?” Penumbra asked with a sigh.

“Nuthin’! Nuthin’ at all!” the farmer said with extreme exasperation in her unusually ragged voice.

“There’s no need to be sarcastic, Applejack,” Penumbra replied.

“Oh, she isn’t being sarcastic,” Discord interjected, apparently no longer willing to withhold his observations. “You see, when I realized how paranoid she was about me, it occurred to me that I could maximize my chaos production by doing absolutely nothing. Thus, as she consumed cup after cup of coffee, I took the opportunity to catch a few Z’s—after a thousand or so years of semi-consciousness, I’d completely forgotten how enjoyable it is to fall asleep. I then awoke at dawn to the delightful sound of Applejack screaming at me to quit dawdling and start annoying her already.”

“That ain’t what I said,” Applejack grumbled. “An’ I wasn’t screamin’. I was just voicin’ my opinion a bit louder than I usually do.”

“But it is more or less what you meant, and your opinions were being voiced at the top of your lungs—loud enough for your darling little sister to hear, in fact. Oh, wasn’t it delightful when she shared her new vocabulary words with all of us at breakfast?”

Applejack’s left eye twitched ominously for a few seconds before she turned her attention back to Penumbra. “He’s all yours for the day. I’m headin’ back to Sweet Apple Acres to make sure he didn’t leave no trap doors in the ground, or some other nonsense.” With that, the farmer spun around and started trudging back to her home.

Penumbra cast a piercing stare in the draconequus’ direction, where he was adding “trap doors” onto an already-extensive list on an oversized blackboard. “You really didn’t do anything, did you?” she finally asked, letting her glare melt into a smirk.

“Nope,” Discord answered, returning his own toothy grin as the list zipped away into nothingness. “So, Duchess, what’s on the schedule for today?”

“Please, drop the title. The only reason I even accepted it at all was as a compromise with Celestia.”

“Ah,” Discord said. “She wanted to keep you from being a Princess because she’s still got that stick up her hindquarters, then.”

“Actually, she did her best to convince me to accept a coronation. Essentially, my status as an alicorn means that I’ll be treated like a Princess whether I want it or not, so as far as she was concerned, my authority might as well be de jure instead of merely de facto. But in reality.... You don’t really care, do you?”

“Two for two!” Discord said cheerfully. “Now, what are your plans?”

“Plans?” Penumbra asked. “Why would I make plans? You’re the one who has to make me laugh, remember?”

“Oh, er, right. Well, then I guess I’ll just tag along with you, and when I see the chance to do something funny, I’ll take it. How’s that sound?”

Penumbra considered this for a second or two before giving her answer. “I’d say that sounds quite reasonable,” she said, ending with a smirk as Discord’s eyes widened. Apparently, he hadn’t realized how sensible his idea was.

The draconequus stared at the cloudsmith through slitted eyes. “Alright, fess up. How did you trick me into doing that?”

“I didn’t trick you at all.”

Clearly, Discord thought that this explanation was inadequate, but Penumbra refused to elaborate with anything more than a cryptic smile. Eventually, the chimera threw his hands in the air melodramatically. “Fine! We’ll do it your way.”

“Correction,” Penumbra said with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “We’re doing it your way.”

“Arrgh!”

———————————

Penumbra heaved a sigh of relief as she landed on the ground; she and Discord had miraculously made all the way across town without her guest getting involved in any incidents with innocent ponies, though the pegasus wasn’t certain if that was because the draconequus was worried about being turned to stone again, or because so many of Ponyville’s residents were huddled inside their homes for fear of coming into contact with the chaotic wackjob.

Indeed, the cloudsmith would have seriously considered spending the entire day at her forge, if she hadn’t needed to go into town to meet with a pair of potential clients. She knew that these particular ponies was especially eager to work with her, as they were the only customers who hadn’t canceled her appointment upon learning about the cloudsmith’s new “project.” Nopony else was willing to risk even the possibility that Discord might show up on their doorstep with her.

This particular doorstep, however, was part of a modest multi-story thatched roof cottage that was typical of most of Ponyville’s residences, albeit with a few touches here and there that suggested its residents were upper-middle-class rather than middle-middle-class, such as a roof made of straw with the distinctive shimmer of an anti-rot spell, or the brass door knocker hanging on the building’s entrance which had been engraved with the letters “G” and “C” surrounded by a filigree heart symbol—or at least, it had been a symbol.

“Clever though it might be for you to change the shape to that of an anatomically correct heart, I’d rather not find myself having to pay to replace this knocker. Please restore it, Discord.”

“Oh, fine,” the chimera said as he rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers, undoing his chaotic magic, “but I need to stay limber for when the chance to do something funny happens.”

Penumbra, however, got the distinct impression that this demonstration was intended to be the aforementioned “something funny,” though she decided not to press the matter and knocked on the door several times. “Now, I realize that there’s little point in asking you to behave yourself,” she told Discord, “so instead I’m going to recommend that you use as much common sense as you can manage while we’re in these ponies’ house. Do you understand?”

“I assure you that I comprehend your advice in its entirety,” Discord said with a relatively straight face.

Penumbra briefly considered pointing out that he hadn’t actually said whether he had any intention of following this advice, but before she had a chance to speak again, the door swung open, revealing a pair of unicorns. The stallion was powerfully built with a white coat and brown mane and tail and rather impressive handlebar mustache on upper lip. He was wearing a black sweater with green patches sewn over the knees, and he sported a cutie mark that consisted of a trio of footballs, though they were of the oddly-shaped sort used in “Equestrian football,” rather than the round balls used in the more sensibly-named sport that was popular in Trottingham. Beside him was a slightly overweight pink mare with a purple mane that had been done up in an impressively tall beehive hairdo. Her cutie mark consisted of three cookies, one of which had a bite taken out of it, leaving some crumbs behind.

“Hello there,” the stallion said cordially. “You must be Penumbra. I’m Gridiron, and this is my wife, Courtesy. It’s nice to finally meet you face-to-face.” Of course, Penumbra had already met these two ponies before, even if she didn’t know them very well on a personal level; after all, they were Rarity’s parents, and Rarity was a reasonably close friend of hers. However, they didn’t seem too keen on making this obvious, mostly because they were worried that Discord might start pestering Sweetie Belle as a means of playing mind games with her sister. Thus, when Rarity had told them about the draconequus the previous night, they’d sent their daughter back to Penumbra to request that she behave as though she had never met them before during the meeting. Ultimately, the cloudsmith had agreed, understanding their worry, even though their proposed solution probably wasn’t going to make the initial problem go away.

Now, however, was not the time to belittle their ideas. Right now, they were potential clients, and if pretending they were strangers made them feel more comfortable around Discord, it was to be embraced wholeheartedly, no matter how little sense it made. “Greetings,” she said with a pleasant nod of her head and indulged the unicorns in one of her rare smiles. “I am indeed Penumbra Noctis, owner of Cloud Nineteen, and this is Discord, an... acquaintance of mine.” She eyed the draconequus warily. It had been nearly thirty seconds since he’d gotten into any mischief, and he was already looking antsy.

“Er, why don’t you two come in and have a seat here?” Courtesy said as she gestured towards her living room.

Penumbra should have been more worried about the way Discord’s eyes suddenly brightened up. “Why, that sounds delightful! Don’t mind if I do,” he said, slinking his way into their home. Seconds later, he’d grabbed a wooden chair from their kitchen, placed it between two slices of bread, and was happily munching away on the piece of furniture.

“Mmm!” he said contentedly in between bites. “I can’t believe I’ve never thought of having a seat for brunch before. Why, there has to be a least a full day’s worth of fiber in every bite. Is this maple, by any chance?”

Penumbra was not nearly as amused. “Discord...” she said with a glare.

“What?” the draconequus replied with his mouth full, sending splinters flying with each syllable. “She said I could have one.”

“Er, actually, that’s okay, so long as it’s just the one,” Courtesy said politely. Clearly, she didn’t want this meeting to last any longer than it had to. Discord responded with a oddly grateful-sounding belch as he swallowed the rest of his chair sandwich.

The three ponies all sat down in the living room, with Discord joining them shortly thereafter. The conversation that followed was surprisingly free of random silliness, mostly because the draconequus kept himself busy by looking around the room for something he could use to extract a chuckle from Penumbra’s throat. “So,” the cloudsmith began, “how may I serve you?”

“Well,” said Gridiron, “we’re interested in commissioning a sculpture for our youngest daughter’s cute-ceañera.”

This came a surprise to the pegasus, who was fairly certain that Rarity would have mentioned something if Sweetie Belle had finally gotten her cutie mark after all of her past efforts. “I see... so, I take it that the happy event occurred recently, then.”

“Oh, goodness, no, though it’s not from lack of trying, don’tcha know,” Courtesy replied. “But it should be happening relatively soon, so we’ve decided to start making plans now.”

“Of course,” Penumbra said with a nod. “Well, the time it takes me to make a cloud statue of a pony depends on many factors, such as size and detail, but I rarely have to spend more than two days working on it. However, I have a rather full schedule at times, so I’d recommend placing your order at least a week in advance—preferably two, actually—to ensure that I can deliver the final product by the date of the festivities.”

To Penumbra’s surprise, the two unicorns looked at each other with rather worried expressions. “Actually, that’s not going to work out with our plans,” Gridiron said as he turned back to the cloudsmith. “You see, we want our daughter’s cute-ceañera to be a surprise, you know?”

“I assure you that I can be quite discreet when I deliver the finished sculpture,” Penumbra said.

“No, you don’t understand,” Courtesy said. “We want to hold a surprise cute-ceañera on the day she gets her cutie mark. Pinkie Pie has already agreed to handle the logistics for us,” they explained, clearly proud that the royal-to-be was willing to lend her time and expertise to this effort, “and she gave the impression that this would be of little trouble to you, owing to your... unique abilities as a pegasus.”

Penumbra sighed quietly. After all, these two were hardly the first ponies to misunderstand what alicorn-level pegasus magic was capable of. “All the magical power in the world won’t allow me to give you that level of speed without sacrificing quality. I very much doubt that I can do your daughter’s likeness any justice with only a few hours’ notice, and even I could, I wouldn’t have time to infuse the resulting sculpture with the magic needed to keep it from dissipating after a few days.”

“Perhaps you could start work on it now, yah?” Gridiron proposed. “Keep it in storage until our filly gets her mark? Then you’d only need to put a few finishing touches on it, right?”

Penumbra tapped a hoof against her chin thoughtfully. “I suppose that’s possible,” she said at least, “but I don’t have infinite storage space, especially not in the levels of the atmosphere needed to preserve an unfinished cloud sculpture. I’d have to charge you for that.”

“Oh, that’s no trouble at all,” said Courtesy with a relieved smile. “We’re willing to go the extra kilotrot for Sweetie— er, sweetheart. Our little sweetheart.”

Unfortunately, the plump unicorn’s awkward attempt to conceal her daughter’s identity only served to pique the interest of a certain Spirit of Chaos. “Hang on a second,” Discord said, suddenly injecting himself into the conversation, “your filly wouldn’t happen to be a white unicorn with a lavender-and-purple mane who hangs out with a pale yellow earth pony and an orange pegasus, would she?”

“Er, yah,” Gridiron replied, nervously stroking his mustache. “And, um, how exactly do you know our daughter?”

“Oh, I’m very well acquainted with her indeed; after all, if it wasn’t for her squabbling with her two little friends in the Royal Sculpture Garden, I might never have escaped in the first place.”

“Oh? Well, that’s... nice, I suppose,” Courtesy replied with as much nervousness apparent in her voice as her husband’s.

“Yes, it was quite thoughtful of them, wasn’t it?” Discord said. “And yet it occurs to me that I have rather selfishly neglected to properly show my gratitude to your daughter.”

Gridiron seemed to be sweating a bit, which was rather odd, since if anything, it felt like a chill had swept through the room. “There’s no need to trouble yourself about that, sir. After all, we’ve tried to raise our foals to believe that doing good is its own reward.”

“Oh, isn’t that lovely?” Discord asked Penumbra rhetorically (at least, she hoped it was supposed to be rhetorical). “They want their little filly to grow up to be a doormat.” The draconequus turned his attention back to the ponies who he’d just blatantly insulted and continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted in the first place. “Anyway, I think I have the perfect solution to your little conundrum. After all, there won’t be any need to store an unfinished cloud sculpture if I just give her a cutie mark myself.”

“No!” both parents immediately cried out, which seemed to surprise Discord, though whether his astonishment came from the fact that these two were actively opposing him or because he genuinely thought they’d accept his offer wasn’t exactly clear.

“Aw, come on, it wouldn’t need to be permanent if she didn’t like it. Just a little something to brighten her day, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Discord,” Courtesy said firmly, “but cutie marks need to come in their own time, you know?” Gridiron backed up his wife’s statement with a curt nod of his head.

Penumbra, however, was starting to get concerned. What Sweetie Belle’s parents were saying to the draconequus sounded an awful lot like a rejection to her ears, and if there was one thing that she had learned from her own experiences, it was that imaginary friends did not handle rejection very well—from anypony.

Sure enough, Discord’s surprise had already disintegrated into indignation. “Oh, I assure you, my magic is perfectly harmless when I want it to be,” he said darkly as a sneer curled his upper lip.

“It’s not that,” Gridiron said quickly, apparently realizing that he and his spouse had inadvertently committed a major faux pas. “It’s just that a cutie mark should be something unique to each individual pony. It’s such a big part of everypony’s life, after all.”

“Is that so?” Discord asked, but before either unicorn could answer, he’d snapped his eagle talons, causing a blinding flash of light to fill the room. By the time the spots faded from Penumbra’s vision, her clients had been replaced by an oversized football and an equally massive snickerdoodle.

“Well, what do you know?” Discord asked gleefully. “A cutie mark really is a big part of a pony’s life after all!” He let out a joyous cackle in celebration of his own cleverness before turning to his associate to gauge her reaction. “What do you think? Hilarious, right?” he questioned eagerly.

Penumbra, on the other hoof, was not amused in the slightest. She glared at the chimera, her expression as stonefaced as ever. “Would you mind returning my clients to their normal states?” she asked him coolly after his fit of laughter began to fade away.

Discord was not exactly keen to comply with this request. “Why should I change them back when you obviously haven’t gotten the joke yet?”

“Well, for starters, if you don’t, you run the risk that the Elements of Harmony will decide you’re a lost cause and put you back in your statue,” the pegasus pointed out with a smirk.

“Arrgh!”

———————————

“I don’t see why you’re angry at me,” Discord said irritably as he and Penumbra emerged onto the streets of Ponyville. “After all, it wasn’t as though I was the only one who was misbehaving. You do realize I knew they were Rarity’s parents the whole time, right?”

Penumbra sighed before answering, “I figured as much. After all, given how knowledgeable you were about the goings-on in town when you were released, it would be surprising if you didn’t. Still, that hardly means you’re justified in having a hissy fit just because I didn’t think your actions were funny.”

“Well, it’s not like I caused any permanent damage,” Discord pointed out. “You even got your commission in the end, so you didn’t suffer from my little joke, either. No harm, no foul, as they say.”

“Just because there wasn’t any foul doesn’t mean you automatically get to score points.”

“Whatever,” Discord said as he rolled his eyes. “Where are we going next?”

“Well,” Penumbra said furtively, “I had considered using this time to get something to eat, but I’m starting to think that idea was excessively optimistic.”

“Aw, c’mon, I’ll be good.”

“By whose definition?” Penumbra asked, though she quickly held up a hoof to silence the draconequus when she realized that he wasn’t going to treat the question as rhetorical. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “My mind’s made up. I’m heading back to Cloud Nineteen.”

“And what if I don’t want to go with you?” Discord asked smugly as he floated uncomfortably close to the pegasus.

“Then you’re free to roam the streets of Ponyville, though you should keep in mind that you won’t have any chances to make me laugh, and if the Element-Bearers hear that you’ve been spreading chaos, it’s back to the Sculpture Garden.”

Discord groaned and rolled his eyes yet again, though whether it was due to the strength of Penumbra’s arguments or because he couldn’t come up with a snappy comeback was impossible to tell. “Can we at least walk back so I have a chance to find a few openings?”

“Very well,” Penumbra reluctantly agreed. After all, she had said she would give Discord a fair shot.

However, openings for humor were few and far between as the pair strolled through town, most likely due to the fact that Discord scared the everloving crap out of most ordinary ponies—and more than a few of the extraordinary ones, for that matter.

“Um, h-hello, Penumbra.”

Penumbra jumped a little when Fluttershy approached the two of them from behind and nervously greeted her friend. She hadn’t seen the yellow pegasus drawing near. “Oh, hello, Fluttershy,” she replied. “What brings you into town?”

The town’s resident animal lover immediately grew more nervous than usual and almost immediately started tripping over her words: “Oh, well, you see, I needed to come into town to keep an eye on—I mean, keep an eye out for, um, potential bargains on, er, rabbit food. Because I have a bunny rabbit named Angel. Who, um, you’ve met, right?”

“But the market is on the other side of town.”

“Oh! So it is. I, um, must have gotten turned around at some point, I guess.” Fluttershy awkwardly dragged her hoof along the ground as she avoided making eye contact with Penumbra and especially Discord.

“Fluttershy?” Penumbra asked with genuine concern in her voice. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Oh, I’m sure she’s fine,” Discord said dismissively. “She’s probably just nervous about taking up her guard duty, that’s all.”

“Guard duty? What would she be guarding?”

The draconequus snorted. “Obviously, as a Bearer of Harmony, it is her duty to protect you from my delightful sense of whimsy. I guessing Applejack roped her into it so she could get some sleep. How close was I?” he asked the Element of Kindness, who responded by blushing furiously.

“Well, um, it’s not that we don’t think you can’t take care of yourself, Penumbra. It’s just that Discord can get the best of almost anypony if he tries hard enough, and we thought you might like some, you know, um support.”

To Fluttershy’s relief, Penumbra didn’t seem offended at all—in fact, she gave her a surprisingly warm smile. “That’s actually very sweet of you, Fluttershy.”

“No, this is sweet of her!” Discord suddenly called out. He waved his lion’s paw dramatically, sending a shower of sugary dust (or quite possibly dandruff) over Fluttershy’s mane and tail causing her hair to coagulate into a sticky, sugary, semisolid mass of pink frosting. The draconequus cocked his ear towards Penumbra, awaiting the inevitable guffaws to follow.

But once again, the laughter was annoyingly elusive. “Oh, no, not again,” Fluttershy moaned, which caused any sense of premature victory to immediately evaporate from Discord’s demeanor.

“‘Again’? What’s this ‘again’ business? How could you possibly have any experience with having your mane turned into cake frosting?”

Penumbra snorted derisively. “Actually, that’s exactly what the Allegedly Great and Powerful Trixie did to Fluttershy when she challenged Twilight to a magic duel two months ago. You may have heard something about that incident.”

“Actually, it’s not as bad this time,” Fluttershy said. “At least this isn’t that rock-hard icing that Trixie used, so I can still move my neck around.”

“Ugh, I hate it when inferior comics ruin perfectly good punchlines!” Discord said as he snapped his fingers and returned Fluttershy’s mane to normal. He tapped a claw against his chin as he pondered what to select from his toolbox of whimsicality. Suddenly, inspiration hit him: “If this Trixie has overexposed my audience to sweetness, I’ll just give ’em sour!” Another bolt of magical energy flew from his hand, summoning a large metal dumpster which hovered over Fluttershy before inverting and spilling its contents all over her.

As the timid pegasus extracted herself from the horrifically foul-smelling mess, Discord admired his handiwork. “There we go! Not only sour, but also putrid and rotten! What do you think of that, Penny?”

“Three things,” Penumbra said as she she covered her nostrils with one of her forehooves. “First, don’t call me Penny. Second, I don’t think it’s particularly funny, especially since it happened to Fluttershy. And third, Trixie used a similar tactic as well during her first duel with Twilight, only she did it on a slightly larger scale.”

Discord did not take this news well, if the increasingly violent twitch in his right eye was any indication. “What kind of nutcase would come up with ideas like that? I mean, besides me.”

Somehow, Penumbra wasn’t surprised that Discord was more bothered by having his originality called into question than by anything else she’d brought up. “Trixie, apparently,” she answered him flatly, watching with fascination as his left eye acquired a twitch of its own.

“Gah!” shouted the draconequus as he sent a flood of sudsy water flowing over Fluttershy, rendering her squeaky clean once again (but completely ruining her manestyle). “Trixie, Trixie, Trixie! Is that all you can talk about?”

Penumbra shrugged absently. “I can talk about how you’re failing to make me laugh instead, if you’d like.”

Discord, however, wasn’t listening. Instead, he scanned the area in search of something with which he could demonstrate his creative superiority. His eyes brightened as they alighted on a large marble statue of an earth pony standing on the grass some distance away from an empty stone plinth. Had he been in a better mood, the Spirit of Chaos might have taken delight in such silliness, but at the moment, he seemed more intent on restoring his reputation for the blowing of minds.

He wound up his arms as if he was about to pitch a baseball and hurled a glob of glowing mana at the sculpture, which suddenly relaxed from its stiffened position and looked around with some confusion until it spotted the unoccupied marble plinth. Smiling, the stone pony trotted up to it, assumed a dynamic, acrobatic position, and gave a thankful nod in Discord’s direction before freezing in place once again.

The draconequus looked quite proud of himself as he turned his attention back to Penumbra. “There! I bet you’ve never seen Trixie do anything like that!”

Penumbra paused for a second before nodding in agreement. “You’re right. I’ve never seen her do something like that.”

“Yes!” Discord shouted victoriously as he pumped his fist in the air.

Penumbra couldn’t resist smiling as she added a clarification: “Then again, Trixie probably wouldn’t repeat something she’d just seen Twilight Sparkle do, would she?”

Discord’s arm flopped to his side as his celebration pathetically faded away. “Twilight Sparkle already did that?”

Penumbra cocked an eyebrow and stared at the draconequus for a second. “Well, technically speaking, I suppose that’s not quite what she did.”

Discord let out a sigh of relief. “Thank chaos. I wouldn’t want to be out-entropied by that monotonous goody-four-shoes.”

The dark blue pegasus grinned evilly as she explained further. “You see, Twilight never got around to fixing Ringaling’s statue.”

“Arrgh!”

———————————

After his second failure in as many hours, Discord seemed to realize that manufacturing a giggle from Penumbra would require more forethought than he usually put into... well... anything. Thus, he spent the rest of the morning observing his would-be reformer as she went about her work at Cloud Nineteen’s forge, asking various questions about the ins and outs of her business as though he was a prospective apprentice. At the moment, she was working on a commission for Hoity Toity, a stallion who, according to Rarity, had a lot of clout in the Canterlot fashion scene.

The earth pony had ordered a rather ostentatious sculpture of himself for the grand opening celebration of the new Ponyville location of his chain of luxury retail stores—the first of many such businesses to come, no doubt, as the residence of two of Equestria’s Princesses meant that Ponyville was expected to become a de facto second capital in the years ahead. Penumbra had put quite a bit of work into the sculpture, which was roughly five times as tall as the pony it depicted. It had taken her a full day to amass the cloud needed, and a second to bring it to a shade of grey that matched the upper class pony’s coat precisely. She’d finished the main body the previous night, and was now adding white cloud to recreate Hoity Toity’s rather distinctive mane and tail.

“It looks a little bit rough, though,” Discord commented as he suddenly dissipated the balls of cloud he’d been juggling. “You’re really going to be finished today?”

“No, this is just a very basic form. The finish will be tomorrow, when I add in all of the details, like the client’s trademark sunglasses. Still, I’d like to think it’s in very good shape, considering where I am in the overall process.”

“Oh, it’s very nice indeed,” Discord agreed with the faintest wisp of a smile on his face, “but I can’t help but think it could use a little more... substance.” And so, with a flick of the wrist and a snap of his fingers, the intricate cloud sculpture suddenly transformed into a thick, white mass that fell to the ground with an audible splat.

For a few seconds, the cloudsmith seemed unwilling to let herself respond to this. Eventually, she managed to ask, “Discord... what did you just do?”

The draconequus was sniggering quietly in an effort to hold back his laughter, but he somehow managed to let the words “shaving cream” escape from his mouth.

Penumbra rolled her eyes. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me!”

“Snrrkk— Nope!”

As the puffy lumps of soapy foam gradually spread across the grass, Discord let loose a series of guffaws. Clearly, he was quite satisfied with his handiwork. Penumbra, however, did not look nearly as amused. “Just out of curiosity, could you please explain why that was supposed to be humorous?”

It seemed that this was not a question that was normally posed to the draconequus, as his laughter stopped abruptly and his face took on a confused expression before he answered. “It’s shaving cream. Shaving cream used for purposes other than shaving is inherently funny.”

“And yet, I’m not even smiling. Now, why do you suppose that is?”

“Uh... because you’re a bitter shell of a pony who is no longer able to take joy in the simple pleasures of life?”

“No, it’s because I’m too angry with you for ruining three days’ worth of work!” Penumbra shouted. “This may be news to you, but it’s a lot easier to get somepony to laugh when they aren’t contemplating ripping out your spinal column and beating you to death with it!”

Discord immediately started giggling. “Hee hee hee! Beaten to death with my own vertebrae... I’ll have to remember that one.”

Needless to say, this wasn’t the effect that Penumbra had hoped to produce. The cloudsmith massaged her temples with her hooves and took several deep breaths to calm herself down before she spoke again. “You do realize that if you want to get me to laugh, eventually you’ll have to do something funny, right?”

“But that was funny! It’s nothing like what you normally come across in your boring, humdrum existence, and it was completely unexpected. That’s grade-A prank material.”

The cloudsmith, however, had a rather different appraisal of her guest’s efforts. “Unexpected? Listen, if you want to take somepony by surprise, I’d start by doing something surprising.”

Discord seemed to be genuinely offended by this piece of advice. “Surprising?! I turned your clouds into shaving cream! How could you have known I was going to do that?”

Penumbra scoffed at this: “Because you’re Discord, and these allegedly wacky antics are what you always do. There’s no need for me to figure out what you will specifically do ahead of time. The only thing you ever do is to overturn the rules of logic so you can watch the resulting chaos. In short, you’re predictably unpredictable.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Discord said huffily.

“Since when do you care about that?” the pegasus retorted.

“I’m predictably unpredictable, huh? Well, how about—”

“Are you planning on doing the exact same thing you just did five minutes ago?”

Discord ground his teeth together and slammed his cloven hoof into the ground. “Oh, come on! You must have picked up the pink one’s fortune-telling abilities. That’s got to be cheating. I’m telling Applejack on you!”

Penumbra idly glanced at some dirt on the underside of her hoof as she corrected the draconequus’ assumptions. “Pinkie Pie can’t simply grant her Pinkie Sense to other ponies, and you’ve completely misunderstood how it works, anyway. I figured that the last thing you would normally do is repeat yourself, so, logically, it’s the most unpredictable thing you might do.”

Discord looked absolutely infuriated when Penumbra used the word “logically” to describe his actions, but apparently he had enough self-control to keep his baser instincts in check. “Then how did you know I was going to do it?”

“Because after my little speech, your first instinct would be to ‘prove me wrong’ by doing something you wouldn’t normally do.”

“Arrgh!”

———————————

Although much of Pinkie Pie’s time in the past few weeks had been taken up by her plans for the coronation’s afterparty (which was to be her biggest to date, and therefore her best one ever), that was far from the only aspect of her incipient royalty that was keeping her busy. For one thing, the loft above Sugarcube Corner wasn’t really big enough for your standard Princess-y functions, which meant that she’d have to get a place of her own—and a really big one, at that. Fortunately, since Twilight Sparkle was in a similar situation at the Golden Oak Library, the two of them had decided to economize the taxpayers’ bits and build a single residence just outside of Ponyville’s city limits. Indeed, by the end of the week she and Twilight were going to begin looking through the various proposals that had been drafted by architects from across Equestria, each of whom wanted the prestige of designing a royal home, not to mention the high-profile customers who would accompany such renown.

Yet, even in the midst of all this activity, Pinkie Pie still managed to find time for a side project. She’d been unusually secretive about this one, rarely going into more detail than “I’m making something really, really super-duper-ultra-special,” even when asked by her closest friends.

Thus, it was a bit difficult to explain why the pink pony was sorting through a huge pile of rocks and pebbles when Discord trudged up to her location, scattering half of the piles as his tail lashed back and forth angrily. Pinkie Pie scrunched up her nose in annoyance and glared at the draconequus. “I spent my entire afternoon sorting those.”

Discord ignored this, waving away the earth pony’s concern with a flick of his lion’s paw (which inadvertently caused a nearby daffodil to grow to the size of a redwood). “Yeah, whatever. Look, you’re the Element of Laughter, right?”

Pinkie Pie glanced down at the necklace around her neck, which still featured a blue, balloon-shaped jewel. “Well, yeah, though I personally think there’s more to it than just doing funny stuff. You know, thanks to how words change their meaning over time. In fact, I was looking through Twilight’s unabridged dictionary the other day—”

“Don’t try to change the subject. You’re the Element of Laughter, and you’re therefore obligated to help others with their laughter-related needs.” When this line of argument produced little more than awkward silence, Discord added, “It was Celestia’s idea. I was there; you can trust me.”

“Um, no, I can’t,” Pinkie Pie replied with a miniscule tinge of worry in her voice. She’d been expecting that a conversation like this one would occur from the moment that Penumbra announced the terms of the contest, but she’d been hoping that Discord would have enough patience to give her a few days to figure out what to say. So far, it wasn’t going well. Pinkie started gathering up the scattered bits of stone, hoping that Discord would go away if she just ignored him.

Sadly, this worked about as well as Pinkie thought it would, which is to say, not at all. “Hey! I’m talking here!” Discord called out, using his chaos magic to transform the pile that Pinkie had gathered into multicolored glass marbles. “Come on,” he continued, ignoring Pinkie Pie’s glare, “Penumbra said you guys were supposed to give me a fair chance, didn’t she?” The draconequus’ eyes widened until they were as big as Big Macintosh’s hooves and began glistening with a film of teardrops.

It was a little too much for the alicorn-minus-wings-and-horn. “Okay, I’ll give you some advice,” Pinkie Pie said, “if you stop trying to do the sad puppy face. It looks really creepy when you do it.”

Discord squealed like a filly at a pop concert and pulled an oversized notepad out of thin air. “Alright, I’m ready to learn the secrets of funniness.”

“Well, it’s not exactly a secret, but the way you make ponies laugh is by doing things that they think are funny. It sounds to me like you’re doing things that you find funny, but your sense of humor is weirder than a griffon’s.”

“So... I have to do things that Penumbra thinks are funny?”

“Pretty much.”

“Oh...” Discord said, a look of comprehension dawning on his face. “I see. It’s because of that whole ‘making sense’ thing she keeps doing. I think I understand. So, er... what does she find funny?”

“Oh, no,” Pinkie Pie said with shake of her head. “You asked for advice, and I gave it to you. It’s your job to tailor your jokes to your audience, not mine.”

“But... but that sounds like work!”

“Silliness is easy,” Pinkie said with a smile. “Comedy is difficult. Now would you please give me my rocks back?”

———————————

At first, Trixie had not planned on staying in the cave any longer than it took the rainstorm to leave the Badlands. However, this desire to leave evaporated faster than morning dew as the showmare realized just how tired she was of life on the run. But there was more to this decision that mere weariness; Trixie couldn’t help but notice that the cave was awash in magical energy. For one thing, cave entrances generally didn’t hide themselves. For another, the blue unicorn couldn’t think of a non-magical reason why the considerable stockpile of food she discovered stashed away in a crevice behind a row of stalagmites would be so perfectly preserved in spite of its obvious age—at least, she assumed that the fact that she hadn’t keeled over and died since trying some was evidence that it was safe to eat.

Of course, given that the cave’s entrance resealed itself every time she opened it, Trixie also had to consider the possibility that the cave was still in use, but she doubted it. After all, the glyphs in the cave’s seal were in Old Equestrian—granted, she still wasn’t altogether certain what they said (she hadn’t really paid attention to those lectures while she was attending CSGU), but she felt quite certain that any mage still alive wouldn’t have bothered going to that sort of trouble. But even if it was still in use, Trixie felt strangely confident that the current occupant wouldn’t mind. This magic felt friendly and calming, like a mug of hot chocolate on a cold winter’s day.

Trixie soon resolved to remain in the cave, at least until she figured out what her next move would be. The next morning—and she knew it was morning, as she’d opened up the cave again to check—she set about exploring deeper into her temporary home. It wasn’t long before she found a tunnel tucked away in a corner. Using the light of her horn, she set off down the passageway, and it wasn’t long before the corridor opened up into another room.

Any questions Trixie may have been harboring about her decision to linger vanished instantly when her eyes fell upon this second chamber. Every surface she could see, whether on the floor, ceiling, or walls, was covered with crystals. Stalactites, stalagmites, columns—each one glittered in the pale blue light of the showmare’s magical aura. Most of the crystals were a translucent white, but here and there could be found sapphires, rubies and emeralds that gave the chamber a splash of color.

Ultimately, however, it was the structure of these crystals that caught Trixie’s attention more than anything else. Whereas most of the crystals Trixie had seen in pictures of cave tended to jut out in every dimension imaginable, looking like frozen explosions, these were all arranged by a sentient mind. The parallelism of the columns was too perfect to allow for any other explanation. Plus, several of the structure bore an uncanny resemblance to pieces of furniture—Trixie particularly liked the large throne made of clear selenium crystals. Granted, it wasn’t very comfortable, but sitting in it made her feel Great and Powerful, and those were easily her two favorite adjectives. Still other structures looked like they were meant as works of art, being shaped into assorted arcs and spheroids and placed at irregular intervals around the cavern’s walls in what seemed to be an attempt to provide a greater sense of variety for the eyes—though a closer inspection revealed that many of the arrangements bore a strong resemblance to the constellations of the night sky.

The overall effect was quite pleasant; however, it was on a more microscopic level that the true beauty of these crystals were found. Trixie had never seen structures so precise before: perfectly flat faces meeting at perfectly straight edges that forming perfectly angled vectors. There wasn’t a single chip or nick to be seen anywhere. the showpony couldn’t quite explain why, but there was something comforting in this exactness. Everything about the crystal was exactly as it appeared to be. It was an honest solid—a shape that could be trusted. If only those sculptures weren’t there... The more Trixie thought about it, the more convinced she became that these alleged works of “art” were obvious mistakes on the part of whoever had originally decorated the room. How could anypony settle for less than crystalline perfection? And why did they have to be curved? Crystals were not supposed to be curved. It was unnatural—nauseating, even.

Something had to be done. The Great and Powerful Trixie would not, could not tolerate such abominations in this otherwise sublime monument to faultlessness. They had to go, and Trixie would perform the honorable task of eradicating them herself. She was in the process of deciding on the best way to do this—blowing them up seemed an efficient method, but it would create far too much undesirable entropy—when she heard scuffling noises from a tunnel that lead even further into the cave. Thinking that these noises might have emitted from the cavern’s owner, Trixie set off with the intent discuss interior decorating options, with particular emphasis on the elegant simplicity inherent in straight lines.

As the unicorn walked slowly along the tunnel, the scuffling increased in volume. Furthermore, it was soon joined by the sound of voices—several voices in fact. Some were high-pitched, while others were lower, but all of them were composed of strident, staccato bursts that were noxious to Trixie’s ears. As she continued approaching, the noises began to sound vaguely like actual words—she was almost certain that one of them was the word “mine,” for example—and as she turned a corner it seemed that there was a growing flicker of firelight bouncing off the walls. The showmare had begun to go through the usual mental process of determining the most impressive way for her to make an entrance when fate decided to step in and make her decision for her, as she stepped on some loose pebbles, causing her to slip on the ground and tumble out of the passageway into another large clearing.

Of course, as the first rule of theater is to never acknowledge that something has gone wrong in front of an audience, the unicorn rose to her hooves once again, replaced her pointed hat upon her head, and declared, “I am the Great and Powerful Trixie!”

The result was considerably less impressive that she’d hoped, consisting of unintelligible murmurs. Trixie had almost concluded that her completely undeserved reputation as a laughingstock had somehow managed to find her even in the middle of nowhere when one of the voices suddenly barked out, “Pony?!”

It was only then that Trixie actually bothered took a look at her prospective audience... and saw an entire pack of Diamond Dogs looking back at her. “Um, yes, I am a pony,” she said uncertainly.

The angry growls she received in response were less than encouraging.

Author's Note

Credit for the names of Rarity's and Sweetie Belle's parents goes to Drefsab, or more specifically, one of Drefsab's readers. I have to say that Gridiron and Courtesy are absolutely inspired names which are miles above the more usual ones in the fanon. If you're wondering where I got Courtesy's cutie mark from, I suggest acquiring a copy of the official guidebook and turning to page 145.

As for the chapter name, it, like that of Chapter 10, is a song by Legendary Shack Shakers. All of the chapters are going to be titled after their songs, in fact, and Pandelirium is the name of their third album.

Chapter 8: Help Me From My Brain

Though they initially considered leaving Equestrian territory altogether for their voluntary exile, Celestia and Luna still held out hope that this vexing conundrum would turn out to be a huge misunderstanding, and that their subjects would ask for their return. Thus, they resolved to stay within the borders of their homeland, and soon found shelter in a cave which they discovered amongst the crags and canyons of the Badlands.

The two of them were silent as they prepared for their first night in exile, and this would likely have remained the state of things had they not received a visitor. “Well, now that that unpleasantness is taken care of, we can finally get back to business.”

Celestia immediately recognized the broad, flat voice of her erstwhile friend. “Discord! Thou wouldst show thy face to us even now?!”

The draconequus sighed as he floated to the ground. “Please, Celestia, there’s no need for such ceremony. You can still call me Quigley.”

Luna was still choked up, but somehow she managed to force a response from her mouth: “How couldst thou do this to us, Quigley?”

“Oh, it was really easy. A whisper here, a rumor there, and pretty soon it all adds up to revolution.”

“Luna speaks figuratively,” Celestia said, her icy glare unchanging. “She wishes to know the reason for thy actions, assuming its very existence.”

Quigley appeared stunned, as if he had honestly not anticipated this query. “Is it not obvious? I did it to help you.”

“Help us?” the white alicorn said in clear disbelief. “How are we assisted in any way by thine usurpation of our throne?”

Quigley’s continued bewilderment at his friends’ hostility was equally evident. “If I am King of Equestria, that means that you no longer have to deal with any of those pesky responsibilities that have been getting in the way of having fun, of course.”

“That’s it?! Thou hast upturned centuries of tradition because thou art bored?!”

The dragonequus smiled broadly. “Oh, good, you’re finally agreeing with me. Now, then, what shall the three of us do first?”

Celestia, however, would have none of this. “Did it not occur to thee that the responsibilities of monarchy are now upon thy shoulders?”

Quigley sighed and waved his lion’s paw dismissively. “Yes, but I’ve devised a more efficient system for taking care of that sort of thing.”

“And that is?”

Quigley grinned. “You’re going to love this: I just agree to every single proposal brought before me! No advisors, no meetings, and no drawn-out court sessions! I have hours of free time, and all I had to do was ignore all the boring parts. All I have to do is pop in for an hour or two so they know I’m still on the throne, and the rest takes care of itself.”

“And if two ponies’ desires conflict?”

“That’s their problem for not being considerate of others. Something which you could use a lesson in, I might add.”

“What?” Celestia asked, her glare becoming even colder.

“Well, after all, I am a guest in your... er... home, and what is more, I’m the King of Equestria, and so far you’ve done nothing but give me dirty looks since I got here. The time for whining is over. The time for fun is now!”

“No,” Celestia replied, pulling her now-sobbing sister into a tighter hug. “Thou hast caused us more pain and distress than thou can possibly imagine. I think I speak for both my sister and myself when I say that we no longer wish to partake in ‘fun’ with thee.” The alicorn held out the faintest of hopes that the confused draconequus would request a further explanation, so that she could explain that amusements and diversions were not the only things in life which could bring about a sense of fulfillment.

Instead, Quigley’s genial mood dissipated as his face twisted into a snarl of rage and frustration and his normally genteel voice transformed into a husky roar. “You would refuse me my desire to spend time with you? To do the very thing you created me to do?!”

“Quigley, thou wert created to divert us from the drudgeries of life,” Celestia answered, her voice softening for the first time since her friend’s arrival, “but we never intended for thee to replace them.”

The draconequus’ nostrils flared as his lips snarled around his snaggletooth and his eyes became a solid, angry red. He flew towards Celestia, coming within inches as he stared directly into her eyes. “My name,” he said, “is Discord.”

——————————

As a knowledgeable pony, Trixie had of course heard the many rumors of a race of sentient canines who tunneled beneath Equestria, searching far and wide for gemstones, and like most knowledgeable ponies, she had dismissed this hearsay as utter nonsense. Now, however, surrounded by nearly a dozen Diamond Dogs of various sizes, each of whom looked irritated at best by her presence, she found herself seriously considering a revision of her previous position on the matter. A mid-sized canine wearing a red vest and a spiked collar stepped forward from the others. “You are a pony,” he said in a high-pitched, raspy voice.

In any other context, Trixie might have had the luxury of being surprised that the dog could speak grammatically correct sentences in Equestrian. Right now, however, she was more concerned with extracting herself from her rather sticky situation, so she simply gave her interrogator a straightforward response: “Yes, I am.”

“We have no need for ponies. You will leave now.”

“Ah, yes. Of course. Sorry to trouble you. Trixie will just head back to the cave’s upper chambers—”

“Ponies belong above ground. Ponies will stay above ground. You will leave. Now!” The other Diamond Dogs barked and howled with approval at their leader’s intransigence—and the dog with the red vest did seem to be the leader.

Not surprisingly, Trixie’s first instinct was to comply with this demand and thank her lucky stars that they hadn’t demanded anything more from her. But before she raised a single hoof from the cave’s floor, she had begun to reconsider. Finding this cave, and the wondrous sights inside, had unquestionably been the best thing that had happened to her since her duel with Twilight Sparkle. Was she truly to turn her back on Providence just to satiate the desires of some mangy curs? “Now, now, there’s no need to be unreasonable....”

“Ponies will not dig for gems. Ponies will not pull carts. We have no need for ponies! You will leave now!” The Diamond Dog had raised himself up to his full height and was now baring his fangs in an effort to look as intimidating as possible, and indeed, somewhere in the back of Trixie’s mind, the “fight or flight” response had been triggered, but for some odd reason, she continued to stand her ground. The cave had sheltered her from the heat of the day, the cold of the night, and the damp of the rain. It had given her a stock of provisions, and it was imbued with a warm, intangible magic that had given her the first feelings of unequivocal happiness she’d felt in a long time. She’d made up her mind; “flight” was not an option.

Of course, given that she was outnumbered nearly twelve to one, “fighting” wasn’t very appealing either. “Well,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “even if I can’t be useful as manual labor, that doesn’t mean you can’t benefit from my services.”

“Services?” the Diamond Dog repeated skeptically. “What other services would be useful to us?”

“Why, I am only the greatest, most astounding entertainer in all of Equestria!” Trixie said proudly, even though she knew full well that several members of the Wonderbolts might be willing to argue that statement. “Surely my ability to provide you with amusement will be enough to convince you to let me stay in an out-of-the-way chamber of this cave while you continue with your... er... business.” Of course, Trixie had no idea what business the Diamond Dogs had in this cave, but this was hardly the time to probe.

Several of the canines huddled together to discuss her offer, leaving her under the watchful eyes of two massive, armored guards. After a few minutes that felt like hours, the huddle broke up and the red-vested leader approached her. “If you entertain us, you may stay,” he said with a mirthless grin. “You will start now.”

As a professional entertainer, Trixie had performed in front of hostile audiences on numerous occasions in the past, but none of that hostility had ever seemed likely to threaten her personal safety. She swallowed hard and restarted her routine. “Now then, as I was saying, I am the Great and Powerful Trixie! The most talented, most magical, most awesome unicorn in... er... where exactly are we, again?”

“The cave?” one of the larger Diamond Dogs offered.

“Well, er, yes, in the cave!” Trixie finished, though given that she was the only unicorn in the cave at the moment, it didn’t sound as impressive as she might have liked. “In fact, I’d say that I’m better than any pony you’ve ever met before.”

“Really?” asked a small brown canine with droopy jowls.

“Really,” confirmed the Great and Powerful Trixie. “I’m confident that anything they can do, I could do better.” Usually, this was the part where at least one member of the audience would step up and challenge, her, but the pack seemed rather uncomfortable, as if remembering their past experience was painful at best.

“The white pony could find gems,” a large grey Diamond Dog with floppy ears and a pronounced underbite finally said.

The leader looked uneasy at the suggestion, but eventually he agreed with a silent nod.

“So, you wish for Trixie to locate a gemstone?” Trixie said. She usually repeated any challenge she received aloud, partly to make sure she’d understood it correctly, but mostly to give her a few additional seconds to formulate a solution.

“Not one gem,” the leader said. “The white pony found many gems. More gems in one hour than we could hope to find in a week.”

“I see,” Trixie said. “Well, Trixie shall do better than simply finding gems. The Great and Powerful Trixie shall make one for you!” Even as the Diamond Dogs suddenly burst into excited applause, the showmare was regretting her snap decision. Make a gemstone? Have you gone mad, filly? Even earth ponies do not pretend that they can do that!

Still, there was a way out of every problem, and Trixie found hers while staring at the cave floor. Remembering an instance when she’d bested a glass-blower at his trade, she lifted some sediment from the ground and used a particularly intense fire spell to heat it until it was white-hot. After several minutes of manipulation and cooling, she presented the finished orthohedron to the red-vested Diamond Dog for inspection.

The leader looked at the clear solid in his paws for a few seconds before hurling it to the ground, causing it to shatter. “Glass,” he said with an angry sneer.

“Ah, yes, of course,” Trixie said as a bead of sweat trickled down the side of her face. “Naturally, the true method of producing gemstones is quite difficult, or else Trixie would have long since retired from her current vocation. She had to be certain that you were true gemstone connoisseurs, so that her talents would not be wasted on ingrates.”

The leader growled skeptically, but nonetheless waved his paw, bidding her to continue.

Trixie paused to wipe the sweat off of her forehead and picked up a rock the size of her hoof with her magic. Common sense would have said that her next move should have been to hurl the rock at the leader’s skull and make a break for the cave entrance, but there was something else getting in the way: pride. The rock began to glow a bright white as Trixie continued to think about her situation. Her professional reputation had suffered enough without being bested by an anonymous white pony. It didn’t matter that she had no idea how she would turn this rock into a gem; she was going to do it, because she was The Great and Powerful Trixie, damn it, and anything they could do, she could do better!

Trixie wasn’t certain what happened next, but it felt as though a dam somewhere inside of her had abruptly burst, sending a torrent of magic flowing through her. Off in the distance, she could hear the excited scuffling of her audience, but she paid this no mind; she had more important matters to attend to at the moment.

The rock. It continued to float in front of her, awaiting her ministrations. Instinctually, she began to siphon her magic into the stone, surrounding it, infusing it, and rearranging the haphazardly jumbled atoms and molecules into a precise, orderly structure and transforming the whole into a thing of beauteous perfection. The stone’s glow was now almost blinding, and the air around it began crackling in reaction to the magic. The noise grew steadily louder until it was almost deafening, causing more than a few of the Diamond Dogs to hide behind what meager cover the cave could provide. The thought that she might be needlessly putting herself in danger had only just occurred to Trixie when the crackling and buzzing suddenly dropped away, replaced with a noise that sounded like shattering glass as the unicorn slumped to the ground.

When Trixie opened her eyes again, the lead Diamond Dog was standing in front of her, holding a large, green crystal in his paws, scrutinizing it intently. Finally, he stopped and looked her in the eye, but saying nothing, as if he was trying to work out whether she had used some sort of stage trickery. “If I had it with me the whole time,” she said breathlessly, “I would have tried to buy your acceptance instead.”

The canine flashed a toothy grin at her, but it no longer contained even a hint of malice. He turned to his pack and announced: “It is an emerald... and it is flawless. Trixie is truly Great and Powerful!”

——————————

Amazingly, Discord seemed to take Pinkie Pie’s advice on comedy seriously—a turn of events which shocked Pinkie Pie more than anypony else, in fact. The would-be comedian spent most of his second night at Sweet Apple Acres pacing around his barn, muttering indistinctly as he tried to work out how best to conjure up some laughs from Penumbra. Of course, the fact that Applejack had once again decided to spend the night monitoring him instead of sleeping might have encouraged him to be a notably conspicuous about this; after all, it was the earth pony’s fault that he was being forced to resort to complicated metaphorical conjuring instead of the relatively straightforward literal variety.

Indeed, Discord said as much in his non-apology to Applejack the following morning as he breakfasted on toast and several jars of Zap Apple Jam (though to be fair, he did place the jam in a new container before eating the jars). “In any case,” he continued as he shoved a fifth slice of pumpernickel into his gaping maw, “Pinkie Pie does have a point. Much as it pains me, it appears that in order to win this contest, I’ll have to be... ugh... sensible and cater my efforts to Penny’s tastes. Luckily for me, that won’t be difficult.”

“You sure about that?” Applejack asked him through bleary eyes. She was the only pony left at the table, as the other Apples had conveniently remembered extremely important chores that needed to be finished the moment he’d appeared in the doorway.

“Of course. After all, Penumbra is basically what Luna thought an evil Celestia would be like, so all I need to do is figure out the ratio of Night to Day in her personality and work from there.” Discord paused and noted the skeptical look on Applejack’s face, though her blatant exhaustion made that expression look significantly more weary than usual. “I see you’re having difficulty following my logic. That’s perfectly understandable; I don’t like following logic either. Why don’t I explain my plans for the day, then? That way, I’ll know if any of them will run afoul of that blasted morality of yours.”

Applejack considered this for a moment, and she decided that at the very least, this might give her grounds to send Discord back to the sculpture garden if he lied to her. “Alright, shoot.”

——————————

“Now, you might think that, as a pony based on Celestia, Penumbra would be receptive to practical jokes. However, as my less-than-successful experience yesterday has demonstrated, this is not the case. I assume that this is because around the time of her creation, I had largely exhausted Celestia’s tolerance for pranks. And yet, I also noted that she did indulge in the occasional smirk as she mocked my failures. That’s when it occurred to me that, much like Celestia, Penumbra is an extremely self-centered pony who cares nothing for the misery of innocent draconequi. Therefore, I shall use the age-old technique of slapstick to repeatedly injure myself in a comical fashion, and her cruel laughter is sure to follow.”

Applejack smiled to herself as she recalled Discord’s stated plan for that morning; it was quite possibly the only thing that was going to make today’s shift on the Penny Watch bearable. A small part of her felt guilty at her eagerness to watch Discord make a complete fool out of himself, but that was more than drowned out by the very large part that was convinced that a heapin’ helping of humble pie was exactly what the “innocent” draconequus deserved after all he’d put the citizens of Ponyville through the last time he’d been set loose.

This pleasant situation was made even better by Discord’s decision to make sure she was awake whenever he attempted to get Penumbra to laugh up so she could witness her friend’s chuckles firsthoof, which had the much more desirable effect of both ensuring that she wouldn’t miss any of his antics and giving her a chance to catch up on some much-needed sleep. Thus, Applejack’s normally unimpeachable work ethic took the day off as she spent much the morning snoozing in the shade of Cloud Nineteen’s ground-level showroom pavilion, with the occasional interruption so she could view the highlights of Discord’s attempts at slapstick.

Things didn’t start out too well. Discord started the morning by “forgetting” to duck as he entered the pavilion at Cloud Nineteen, banging his forehead on the rafters and leaving a visible bruise. Not only did Penumbra not laugh at this, but she hadn’t even recognized it as a failed attempt to do so. Instead, she asked Discord if he was alright, and upon being informed that this was the case, she dropped the matter completely and returned to her work, leaving the draconequus to reflect on his lack of success.

“I don’t understand! She didn’t even notice it.”

“Sure she did,” Applejack said. “She asked if ya were doin’ okay, didn’t she?”

“That’s precisely what I mean! Where was the snarky insult? That gloating, pompous expression on her face? Why did she not take any delight in my misfortune?”

“I dunno,” Applejack answered. “Guess it just looked like an honest mistake. No big deal.” If Discord had heard this, he made no indication, as he’d already left to sit in a corner of the pavilion and ponder his next move, giving Applejack the opportunity for her first catnap of the day.

Discord’s second attempt didn’t fare much better. As the trio strolled through Ponyville’s central market to get ingredients so Applejack could prepare lunch for them, Discord paused to purchase a banana from a rather nervous-looking fruit merchant (using Applejack’s money, of course). “Ah, the noble banana,” he declared aloud in a scenery-chewing tone of voice as he brandished his solid yellow cavendish for all to see. “Truly a most wondrous foodstuff, don’t you think, Penumbra? It’s at its sweetest and most delicious when it’s covered in disgusting brown splotches, yet when it is in pristine condition, bearing its iconic shade of unblemished canary like this particular specimen,”—Discord paused briefly here to peel the fruit and stuff it into his mouth, slowly moving it around in order to fully appreciate its flavor before swallowing—“it is one of the most gut-churningly awful experiences to which the tastebuds can be subjected. Very metaphorical, when you think about it.”

“Is that so?” Penumbra asked, clearly uncertain where this line of reasoning was going (especially since she didn’t really mind the taste of yellow bananas all that much). “And what exactly is it a metaphor for?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it. But it sure sounds like it would make a good metaphor, doesn’t it?” Having thus finished, Discord disposed of the remaining peel by casually tossing it over his shoulder. Seconds later, Discord had slid at least two full trots across the ground before tripping over a small rock jutting out of the grassy roadway, causing him to tumble head-over-tail into a cart of full of a brownish-black substance its seller had rather euphemistically labelled as “all-natural organic sludge.”

Applejack did her best to hold in her sniggering so that Penumbra’s self-control wouldn’t be compromised, but as she glanced over at the pegasus’ face, she only saw her usual dispassionate stonefaced stare.

“A banana peel,” Penumbra said in a flat monotone. “How original.”

“It doesn’t need to be original as long as it’s funny,” Discord pointed out as he spat some of the tar-like substance from his mouth.

“That’s true,” Penumbra said, “but I didn’t think it was particularly humorous, either.”

“Oh, come on! I was making snooty, pretentious comments about a fruit, and then I slipped, fell, and now I’m covered in gunk. How is that not funny?”

Penumbra simply rolled her eyes. “Well, it might have worked out a little better if you’d remembered to step on the banana peel before slipping. Then I’d have been focused on your mishap instead of your hammy overacting.”

“Drat! I knew I was forgetting something!”

“Hey! What are you gonna do about my contaminated sludge?” the sludge vendor asked angrily. Applejack had a strong suspicion that it was only her presence as a witness that prevented the salespony from joining Discord in his no-longer-fully-organic product.

However, it was Discord’s third attempt of the morning that had been Applejack’s favorite. When he first woke her up again, just before noon, she’d initially thought that he was getting impatient for lunch.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” he’d said. “I can make whatever food I want appear whenever I want.”

“But doesn’t that stuff usually end up explodin’?”

“So I like my food with a little kick to it—big deal. Now go get Penumbra so I can display my comic genius.”

When Applejack returned with Penumbra, the cloudsmith looked rather annoyed; it appeared that she’d been hard at work at the time, as evidenced by the fact that her mane was still in the tight ponytail she wore to keep her hair from blocking her vision. “Okay, I’m here,” she said in voice dripping with exasperation. “I assume you’re going to try to be funny again?”

Discord smiled and nodded silently. He then lazily extended a finger and sent a jolt of magic flying towards Penumbra’s haunches, causing her to jump off the ground. “Ouch! What was that for?”

“Just a little experiment to see if I can force this Pinkie Sense thing to do what I want it to. So, is your tail twitching yet?”

“First of all, Pinkie’s preferred term is ‘a-twitch-a-twitching;’ second, no, my tail is not doing such; and third, as I’ve already told you, Pinkie Pie can’t simply give her Pinkie Sense to other ponies!”

At that moment, there was a loud clang as a massive iron anvil fell on Discord’s head. “Apparently she can’t,” he said dryly from beneath his impromptu metal hat.

“Um, excuse me, Mr. Disco?” asked a somewhat-confused sounding voice from overhead. Applejack and Penumbra looked up to see a cross-eyed pegasus mare peeking out from behind a puffy blob of cumulus. “I delivered the anvil to this cloud, just like you asked. Um, it looks like it hadn’t been enchanted to stay there.”

“No harm done,” Discord replied as he pushed the anvil from his cranium and allowed it to hit the ground with a thud.

“Oh. Um, does that mean you’ll still be giving me those muffins?”

Discord wordlessly snapped his talons, causing a tray of oatmeal raisin muffins to pop into existence in front of the delivery pony, who accepted the payment gladly. “Thanks!” she said as she flew back towards Ponyville.

“Not even a chuckle?” he asked Penumbra, whose face was as neutral as ever.

“Of course not,” Penumbra replied. “Derpy is quite sensitive about other ponies laughing at her, and I’ve already learned the hard way that it’s best to avoid hurting her feelings.”

“But you would have been laughing at me!”

“Actually, Discord, I reckon Derpy was probably the funnier one that time,” Applejack said. “Besides, your reaction to gettin’ clonked on your noodle wasn’t anywhere near as good as Twilight’s.”

Discord looked like he had begun to choke on his complaints. “What did you just say?” he said in an uncharacteristically frail voice.

“Uh, that it was funnier when it happened to Twi, I guess.” Applejack replied in a somewhat confused tone.

Discord froze in place with his mouth agape as the full implications of Applejack’s statement settled in. He abruptly rushed over to the earth pony and stared her in the face. “Do you mean to tell me that Twilight Sparkle’s already done this, too?!”

“Indeed she has,” Penumbra said. “It happened shortly after I moved into her mind, in fact, but well before I made my presence known to her. Not a very pleasant experience, even secondhoof.”

“ARRGH!!”

——————————

“Now, in the unlikely event that Penumbra remains utterly unmoved by slapstick, I have an equally inspired backup plan. You see, Luna has always been the more intelligent of the two royal sisters, and as such has a tendency to prefer more cerebral forms of humor—jokes, in other words. Therefore, if it seems likely that Penumbra’s sense of humor is more in line with Luna’s than Celestia’s, I intend to hit her with a barrage of wittiness that will surely elicit at least one titter. And let’s face it, one titter is all I need.”

“Yo, Penny!”

Penumbra sighed as she landed on the ground. “Applejack, how many times must I tell you not to call me that?”

“Sorry, Penumbra, but it’s the fastest way to get your attention,” Applejack said apologetically. “Anyhoo, Discord wants another go.”

“Superb. I suppose this time he’s going to hang from Ponyville’s clock tower?”

Applejack looked over at the clearing where the anvil incident had occurred a few hours earlier; Discord could easily be seen twiddling his thumbs and rocking back and forth on a nonexistent chair as he awaited his audience. “Nah, I think he’s got somethin’ different in mind.”

The two ponies barely had time to walk over to Discord before he launched into his next attempt at comedy: “Hey, Penumbra, what do you call a boomerang that doesn’t work?”

Penumbra looked askance at Discord when he asked this question. “Why do you want to know?”

“Look, just answer me, okay?”

“Well, I suppose I don’t know.”

“A stick!” Discord said excitedly as he paused in anticipation, waiting for the inevitable burst of laughter.

However, the only audible laughter in the moments that immediately followed came from distant playground of Ponyville’s schoolhouse, where Cheerilee’s students were enjoying their lunch break.

“Oh, I see,” Penumbra said after a second or two. “You’ve decided to try telling jokes now. I thought that question seemed a bit out of the blue—even for you.”

This did not seem an auspicious start to Discord’s efforts, but he continued on, undaunted. “Did you hear the one about the egg? Well, it cracked me up.”

Penumbra groaned loudly, but Discord kept going.

“How about the one about the ceiling? Er, never mind, it’ll probably just go over your head.”

“Discord...”

“Oh, I know! Have you heard the one about the jump rope? Oh, just skip it.”

“Discord...”

“Two drums and a cymbal fall off a cliff. Ba dum tssh!”

“Discord!” Penumbra shouted.

“Yes?” he asked his audience with a cloying tone in his voice.

“Those jokes are awful. Don’t you know anything more... I don’t know... clever?”

“Hmm... What’s a pirate’s favorite element on the periodic table?”

Penumbra sighed and rolled her eyes. “Let me guess: Arr-gon?”

“What? No! It’s gold, silly.” Penumbra apparently did not consider this to be clever, as instead of laughing, she pressed one of her forehooves against her face.

“Uh, Discord?” Applejack said tentatively. “I don’t reckon these quick jokes and one-liners are workin’ too well. Maybe you’d have better luck with somethin’ else.” Ordinarily, she would have been averse to giving someone like Discord advice, but she didn’t particularly want to hear the rest of his repertoire, either.

“Fine,” the draconequus said. “I’ll try this one. Three strings come across a bar, one of them goes inside and asks for a drink. The bartender scowls and says, ‘We don't serve your kind here.’ So the string goes back outside, looking really dejected, and the other two ask what's wrong. He tells them what happened, and the second string, who's really mad now, marches into the bar and demands a drink. The bartender glares at him and says, ‘I’ll tell you what I told your friend: we don’t serve your kind here,’ and tosses him out on the street. So the third string twists himself around in the middle and rubs his ends against the sidewalk until they start to come loose, then he walks into the bar and asks for a drink. The bartender looks at him with some confusion and asks, ‘You a string?’ And the string says, ‘I’m a frayed knot.’”

Penumbra still wasn’t impressed; the only change to her stony demeanor was a sardonically raised eyebrow. “How about something that doesn’t involve puns?”

Discord paused for a few seconds. “Give me a few minutes on that one,” he eventually said.

“A few minutes” turned out to be nearly a half-hour, which was rather unfortunate, as it had taken Applejack twenty-five minutes to fall asleep again. “Okay, this is a fairly old one, but I really think you’re going to like it,” Discord said as Penumbra and Applejack said down in front of him. “So, after several weeks of near-constant persuasion, Dr. Trotson convinced Fetlock Hooves to take a break from solving mysteries, and the two of them went camping in the San Palomino desert. On the second night of their vacation, Hooves woke Trotson up in the middle of the night.

“‘Trotson, look up,’ he said. ‘What do you see?’

“Trotson looked up and replied, ‘I see thousands of stars.’

“‘As do I,’ Hooves said. ‘Now, what do you deduce from this?’

“Knowing that his friend had probably already gleaned some fantastic insight because hey, he’s Fetlock Hooves, Dr. Trotson spent several minutes coming up with a response that would not disappoint him. Finally, once his pondering was completed, he said, “Well, my friend, astronomically, it tells me that there at least several thousand stars in existence, and quite possibly more. Furthermore, any of these stars might have planets capable of supporting life, so it it not out of the question to consider whether we are truly alone in the universe. Aesthetically, I deduce that Celestia is one of the greatest artists in history, having set the stars in patterns meant to bring ponies across the land joy and delight. Theologically, the fact that such a great mind cares for small and insignificant ponies such as us is ultimately quite humbling. And what say you, Hooves?’

“Hooves was silent for a few seconds. Then, after some consideration, he answered, ‘I deduce that somepony has stolen our tent.’”

For a few moments, there was silence from Discord’s audience, but this was soon broken as Applejack’s efforts to hold back her snickering gave way to fifteen seconds of laughter. “Okay, I gotta admit, that’n was pretty good, even if it’s all wrong about Celestia bein’ a goddess.”

“Oh, trust me; I already knew that,” Discord said. “But with all due respect, you aren’t the most important member of my audience.” He turned his attention over to Penumbra, who was nodding approvingly.

“It’s a definite improvement. Very amusing.”

“But... but you aren’t laughing.”

“I said it was amusing. I didn’t say I thought it was funny.”

“Oh come on!” Discord said with a frustrated stamp of his foot. “Luna surely would have been rolling on the ground.”

“That’s quite possible,” Penumbra admitted. “However, she isn’t here.”

“But she created you!”

“True, but she isn’t me. Neither is Celestia, for that matter—and I had to go through an immense amount of trouble to learn that particular lesson, so be grateful you’re getting it for free. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work.”

“Hang on,” Discord said as Penumbra flew back up to her cloud-forge. “If she doesn’t get her personality from Luna or Celestia, how am I supposed to make her laugh?”

“I dunno,” Applejack said. “I s’pose you’re just gonna hafta get to know her yourself.”

“ARRRGH!!!”

——————————

Trixie could not recall the last time one of her performances had succeeded so spectacularly. Not only had she produced a gem for the Diamond Dogs without having to resort to her metaphorical bag of tricks, but once she’d recovered from the initial effort, she’d managed to repeat the feat several times, with each attempt requiring progressively less physical and mental strain as she instinctively increased the efficiency of her newly-developed spell. Just as importantly, the pack leader, who went by the name of Rover, turned out to be quite accurate in his assessment of the gemstones’ quality. It turned out that Diamond Dogs made their living by trading gems with dragons, who were willing to pay top bit in the form of gold and artifacts for food-quality jewels. The pack then used these windfalls to purchase supplies from Equestria’s black markets, as legitimate vendors tended to be distrustful of them. Apparently, one of their customers had been willing to part with some very choice pieces from her hoard in exchange for Trixie’s initial batch of emeralds.

This was, without exaggeration, revolutionary, as it was supposed to be impossible to create gemstones with magic. Once word of this got out, ponies could neither doubt Trixie’s Greatness nor her Power. And yet the inarguable nature of this fact served only to raise an even more nagging question: How had Trixie managed to lose so badly to Twilight Sparkle? Even if her purple nemesis had been concealing the full extent of her power, Trixie had possessed the Alicorn Amulet, which should have been more than enough to keep her on an equal standing—yet at the most crucial moment, it had shattered under the strain of the magic Trixie had tried to channel through it.

Trixie leaned against one of the armrests of the crystal throne, supporting her chin with her hoof as she tried to piece together a plausible explanation for Twilight Sparkle’s success. She had done extensive research on the Alicorn Amulet before acquiring it, and all of it suggested that she had been using it correctly. The fact that she hadn’t had any problems using it before that fateful duel further supported this conclusion. She simply couldn’t see what was different about the second duel, other than the fact that she channeled the amplified magical energy back into through the Amulet, but that shouldn’t have resulted in a catastrophic failure... unless....

Unless the additional magic came directly from my own reserves. Trixie sat bolt upright as the insight came to her. If that was indeed the case, the failure was not hers, but the Amulet’s. The more Trixie thought about it, the less far-fetched this idea seemed. It was not unheard of for a unicorn under stress to tap into previously unknown magical reserves. Indeed, this was precisely how Twilight Sparkle had originally come to the attention of Princess Celestia, and had thus been set on a path of privilege that would, if the stories were true, result in that spoiled twit being crowned as a Princess of Equestria!

“Princess,” Trixie growled out loud as if it was the nastiest expletive she could think of. Magical ability or not, the very thought that that overglorified librarian could possibly take any part in ruling Equestria was laughable—when one considered that Trixie was a superior alternative, anyway. After all, had she not transformed Ponyville from a disorganized, undisciplined community into a perfect, orderly utopia? Surely she could be a better leader than Twilight Sparkle could ever hope to be.

That’s when it hit her: surely, this was the perfect way to demonstrate her superiority to Twilight Sparkle. Not only could Trixie be a better ruler than her her, if she could somehow seize enough political power, she would be. Of course, Celestia and Luna would probably object, but who was to say they would pose a significant obstacle? Trixie now had access to enough magical power to completely overwhelm and destroy one of the most fabled magical artifacts in history. Why should she assume that the ruling Princesses could match her?

Trixie began chuckling softly as she she leaned back into the throne as her fragmented, disjointed ideas assembled themselves into a coherent, logical whole within her mind, much like the organization of scattered molecules in her crystallization spell. It would take a lot of preparation and a little bit of luck, but she was now certain that her idea was hardly as ludicrous as an uninformed pony would likely believe. She could do it—she knew she could.

After all, she was the Great and Powerful Trixie. Anything they could do, she could do better.

Author's Note

Thanks to all my readers who submitted suggestions for Discord's jokes, be they originals or ponified classics. Particular thanks go (in no particular order) to Shamus_Aran, ShadeTail, G S tol Kriaal, Blackbelt, and Leo Archon, whose jokes ended up being used in the chapter itself.

Chapter 7: No Such Thing

“Verily, this has been a colossal waste of time,” Luna grumbled as she and her sister approached Canterlot. Her grumpy mood, though initiated by the failure of their endeavor, had been made worse by the hours that the two of them had spent in the air. “I begin to suspect that this ‘Alicorn Amulet’ we keep hearing about is but an invention of Quigley’s—a means to send us out on wild goose chases!”

“Thou mustn’t judge our friend too harshly, dear sister,” Celestia replied. “After all, he oft encourages us to take leave of our responsibilities for purposes of relaxation, and ’twould be much like him to have suggested this errand for that very purpose. In any case, it was not he who first reported of the Amulet’s existence or of its reputed power, and it does indeed seem that there is some sort of mysterious artifact making its way through the black markets. Perhaps some more research will help us uncover the truth.”

That plan, unfortunately, had to be abandoned as the alicorns approached their castle—large, angry mobs had a tendency to bring about swift rearrangements of one’s priorities, after all. This particular mob was clustered around the entrance to the Royal Sisters’ residence, shouting demands that they emerge from hiding. Although the daylight made torches superfluous, many of the ponies were carrying pitchforks, which was odd, since few of the throng possessed the rugged physique of a farmer.

Somehow, a few intelligible sentences managed to rise above the din, though their origin could not really be placed. “Daylight is for everypony!” — “The Princesses are getting paid off by the Candlestick Makers’ Guild!” — “The sun ought not to rise until everypony’s awake to see it!”

The two alicorns landed in front of the crowd, who seemed palpably disappointed that they no longer had a reason to storm the palace. “I am Princess Celestia of Equestria,” the elder of the two announced, “and I stand before you with my sister, Princess Luna of Equestria. Have you a grievance?”

“Yes!” the crowd roared back in unison.

“And that is?”

“You rejected the plan to give us more sunlight in the summer!” an isolated voice called out, causing Celestia to groan—apparently, a garbled version of Quigley’s recent proposal had leaked to the general populace.

“What is this nonsense?” Luna whispered to her sister.

“I shall explain more when we have time.”

In the meantime, the crowd had begun to chant rhythmically, “The sun should shine when we’re awake! The sun should shine when we’re awake!”

Celestia held up a hoof to quiet the crowd. “You are a small group of ponies, and do not speak for the rest of Equestria.”

“Yes we do!” another indistinct voice called back. “We have petitions!”

“And where are these petitions?”

Right on cue, the crowd parted and two stallions pulled a massive cart overflowing with pages, each one covered in signatures (or hoofprints, in the case of those ponies who were illiterate). Celestia lifted one up and read the demand scrawled across the top. “We, the undersigned, demand that the Princesses of Equestria release the sunshine they are holding in reserve for the benefit of all ponies, or that they shall be replaced with a ruler willing to accommodate our demands.”

“This is madness!” Luna shouted.

A bright yellow unicorn near the front shook his pitchfork angrily. “Give us our reserve sunshine, or else!”

“Or else, what?” the blue alicorn demanded.

“We shall begin our rioting!” the unicorn shouted. A massive shout of agreement came from the throng.

It was then that Celestia looked around and noticed the conspicuous (and more than likely uncoincidental) absence of the Royal Guard. If she attempted to use force against these ponies without an impartial witness, the resulting rumors could easily spiral out of control.

Luna, meanwhile, seemed ready to make a defiant retort to the crowd, and likely would have, had not Celestia quietly spoke into her sister’s ear. “Father once told me, ‘Power can not be forced upon those who resent it.’ If we attempt to hold on to our throne through violence, we shall do nothing but plant more seeds of dissent. At the very least, it behooves us to lay low until we know more about what has gone on.”

Luna opened her mouth as if to answer, but no sound came out. Instead, she nodded and stared at the ground, shutting her eyes tight in a futile effort to prevent tears from escaping.

Celestia looked at the crowd. “Very well,” she said. “We shall relinquish control of the throne, so that the ponies of Equestria may choose a new ruler more to their satisfaction.”

With this, a huge cheer rang out from the throng, which was followed by the most shocking chant that Celestia had heard in her life: “Hail King Discord!”

——————————

It had taken a full day for Discord to accept the fact that he’d actually have to get to know Penumbra in order to get any chuckles from her. Fortunately for Applejack, that entire day was spent inside the spare barn where he was staying, and even though she heard some really odd noises inside, he hadn’t caused any damage to the barn itself, which she eventually decided was a good sign. The next morning, however, Discord burst into the Apples’ kitchen wearing a lab coat and carrying a clipboard.

“Do I wanna know what that stuff’s for?” Applejack asked as she eyed the massive peacock-feather quill that spontaneously appeared in Discord’s free paw.

“Probably, given that you’re the designated judge for this little contest,” Discord replied. “It’s really quite simple. Today, I intend to forego attempting to make Penumbra laugh in favor of following her around and recording her reactions. From this, I should be able to glean enough information to figure out what she finds funny.”

Applejack looked around warily for a few seconds before she responded. “Uh, Discord, I ain’t sure how to tell you this, but—”

“Let me guess: Twilight Sparkle did something like this as well?”

“Uh, pretty much.”

To Applejack’s surprise, Discord let out a resigned sigh instead of a scream of frustration. “I should have guessed,” he said. “This is the sort of thing she’d do, isn’t it?”

“Uh, well, I’m pretty sure she wore a pith helmet instead of one of them fancy white coats, if that helps.”

Discord considered this for a second or two and, slowly nodding, he answered, “You know what? I think it does. So,” he added, shifting his topic slightly, “which of your friends drew guard duty today?”

“Twilight, though I think Pinkie Pie’s gonna be around, too, since it was her turn yesterday. Probably for the best; those two still got a heckuva lot of plannin’ to do for their coronation.”

“Is that so? I’ll have to make a note of that.” Discord grinned as he began scribbling notes onto his clipboard.

——————————

It was on this day that Penumbra learned that, even though Discord could be a massive pain in the neck when he was being gregarious, he could be downright unnerving when he was just sitting quietly and doing little more than scratching notes onto paper. On the other hoof, this state of affairs suited Twilight Sparkle just fine, as she hadn’t exactly been looking forward to corralling a wild draconequus, and she very much appreciated the chance to go over some of the details of the upcoming coronation ceremony with Penumbra and Pinkie Pie. She had even brought Spike along to ensure that there was an extra set of eyes on Discord, but the baby dragon’s attention had drifted to a copy of Daring Do and the Chariot of Tirek (Twilight had only recently gotten him hooked on the series), which he read as he idly munched on the bowl of pebble-sized semiprecious gems that Pinkie Pie had brought with her.

However, Twilight wasn’t nearly as bothered by the fact that her assistant was openly slacking off as she might have otherwise been, mostly because she was convinced that there was somepony else who was an even more blatant example of squandered ability. “Look, Penumbra, I know you’ve been busy preparing to handle Discord, but I still think your talents are being downplayed for the coronation,” Twilight said.

“Are you saying that you think creating overflow balcony seating for pegasi is beneath me?” Penumbra replied as she raised an eyebrow skeptically. “I beg to differ. Allowing pegasi to take advantage of their natural ability to sit on clouds will do much to relieve congestion on the ground.”

“I know that,” Twilight said, “but you’re capable of a lot more, and I think that the ponies of Equestria need to see that for themselves.”

“They’re free to come to Pinkie Pie’s afterparty,” Penumbra said with a dismissive wave of her hoof. “There will be plenty of examples of my work present there.”

“I’m not talking about your cloudsmithing,” Twilight replied sternly.

“Oh, is this the start of a fight?” Discord asked, his mood immediately perking up. “I just love watching ponies argue.”

“We know,” Twilight Sparkle called out over her shoulder as Pinkie and Penumbra rolled their eyes in agreement. Indeed, Twilight didn’t even bother making eye contact with the draconequus before returning her attention to Penumbra. “Penumbra, you aren’t just a cloudsmith. You’re also the Duchess of Everfree.”

“Come on, Twilight, it’s not like Penny’s trying to hide in a corner,” Pinkie Pie said, ignoring Penumbra’s glare. “After all, we’re supposed to be the center of attention, right? Penumbra is going to be onstage with the rest of our friends, and they’re going to introduce her with her title, so it’s not like it’ll go unnoticed.”

Twilight Sparkle sighed. “You’re right, of course, but that’s not quite what I’m trying to get at.”

“Then I suggest you try being blunt,” Penumbra said, her irritation at Pinkie Pie’s callous use of that obnoxious nickname forgotten, “because your attempts to guide me to your conclusion with dropped hints aren’t working very well.”

“I’m still a little confused as to why you turned down the chance to be crowned after all the trouble you went through to be a Princess,” Twilight admitted. “I mean, you made it sound like ruling Equestria was really important when you convinced me to go along with it.”

“Ruling Equestria was important because Celestia was doing it, and I wanted to be her,” Penumbra replied nonchalantly. “Since I can’t be Princess Celestia, I’d rather not be a princess at all. I believe I have explained this to you before.”

“Yeah, you have, but I don’t see how refusing the title would change matters. Ponies are still going to treat you as a de facto Princess when you show up at the coronation with wings and a horn.”

“Yes, I know. That’s why I agreed to let Celestia create the ‘Duchess of Everfree’ title as a compromise. Besides, if my past as the Nightmare became common knowledge, I doubt the average Equestrian would be happy that I was a royal instead of an aristocrat. I am, after all, a recovering megalomaniac of sorts, so the less official power I have, the better.” Her voice had a finality to it that halted the discussion in its tracks.

This, however, suited Pinkie Pie just fine, as she had a much more interesting topic to discuss than the exercise of political power. “Speaking of that afterparty, how are the decorations coming?”

“Ah, yes, about that. I think I can make the clouds change colors like you ask, though I’m not sure about the speed at which the shifts take place.”

“You can’t do it that fast?”

“Oh, it’s not a technical problem; I’m just worried that you might induce epileptic fits.”

“Whoa, hold on,” Twilight interjected. “Pinkie Pie, it sounds like you’re planning an over-the-top rave.”

“Well, duh. What’s the point of having a rave if you can’t go over the top? Pulsating lights, pounding music, more glitter than anypony knows what to do with—what could be better?”

“You do realize that some of the foreign dignitaries might not appreciate something like that?”

“Well, they don’t have to come if they don’t want to.”

“That may be true in theory, but in practice, it leaves much to be desired,” Penumbra replied. “This will be your first official function upon becoming a Princess. Most of the dignitaries will assume that you’ll be insulted if they don’t show up, and they’ll be expecting something like the Grand Galloping Gala.”

“Ack! No! Princess Pinkie does not do boring. I’ll just have to put up warning signs outside the entrance. ‘Warning: The party inside is an actual party, where ponies will be having fun.’ Besides, we don’t want fuddy-duddies with expensive clothes complaining when they get caught in the food fight.”

“You’re planning a food fight?!” Twilight asked.

“Yup! Condiments versus entrees. I call dibs on the mustard!”

“Pinkie, this is a very important chance for you to make a good first impression as a Princess,” Twilight insisted.

“So I’ll use fancy brown mustard. Come on, Twilight, after the coronation’s done, everypony is going to want to unwind a little. By the way, what’s easier to throw: mashed potatoes or sauerkraut?”

“Well, I’d expect mashed potatoes to hold together more easily—What am I saying?! Pinkie, you’ve got to drop the food fight.”

“Aw, come on, Twilight. Live a little.”

“Yeah!” Discord chimed in. “And for added fun, you can load that cannon of yours full of horseradish and repaint the walls. No, wait, I have an even better idea: a firehose hooked up to a reservoir of sour eggnog!”

Pinkie Pie was starting to look distinctly uncomfortable.

“Those ponies won’t know what hit ’em—especially if you replace the nutmeg with finely chopped poison joke! Ooh, this party keeps sounding better by the second. Where do I sign up?”

Pinkie Pie just looked at Discord like a cow looks at an oncoming train. “Okay... maybe the food fight’s not such a good idea.”

“Hey! Just because I approve of something, that doesn’t mean it’s necessarily bad.”

“No,” Penumbra said, “but it’s a distinct possibility. Besides, aren’t you supposed to be an impartial observer today?”

Discord grumbled and returned to his note-taking, though at the moment those “notes” looked suspiciously like crude doodles of Penumbra getting pelted with rotten tomatoes.

This lead to an awkward silence that was broken only by loud, unpleasant crunching noise from Spike’s general direction. The three ponies looked over to see Spike running a claw around his mouth. “Ugh,” he said, once he’d finished picking his teeth. “I don’t think that amethyst was anywhere near ripe enough yet.”

“Oh, sorry about that, Spike,” Pinkie Pie said.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not like you have a lot of practice picking out gems for food.”

“That’s no excuse,” Pinkie replied. “You’re my twin brother, and you deserve the best.”

“Aw, stop,” Spike said sheepishly as a rush of color tinted the scales on his cheeks.

“You know, I’ve been wondering about that,” Twilight said. “We’re technically not supposed to get royal stipends until after we’ve been crowned. How could you afford to buy food-grade gemstones?”

“Oh, I didn’t buy them at all,” Pinkie Pie explained. “I used magic.”

Twilight Sparkle looked confused. “So... what? You’ve been using unicorn magic to rearrange their chemical structure?”

Pinkie Pie giggled. “Come on, Twilight, you know my unicorn magic isn’t strong enough for something like that. Heck, to make food-quality gemstones that way you’d need a mountain of unicorn magic and probably an incredibly obsessive personality with next to no tolerance for imperfection.”

“So, do you think Twilight could pull it off, then?” Spike asked, salivating at the prospect of a near-endless supply of snack food.

“I’m not that bad, and you know it,” Twilight said as she glowered at her assistant.

“Your imaginary friend magic, then?” Penumbra asked. “Did you Pinkie Promise to do something special for your brother, perhaps?”

“I don’t really need to use magic to do ‘something special,’” Pinkie replied, smiling coyly.

“Well, then how did you make them?” Twilight asked with a hint of exasperation in her voice.

“Oh, I grew them.”

“Ah, I see. That makes s—You grew them?!” Twilight’s eyes bugged out as she realized what her friend had actually said.

“Yup!” Pinkie chirped. “I gathered a bunch of pebbles from around Ponyville, sorted them out, buried them in the ground, and sent a bunch of earth pony magic into the soil with my hooves. Most of the pebbles were duds, but I got enough gems to fill a bowl for Spike, because he’s the best twin brother in the world.”

“Aw, thanks, Pinkie,” Spike said between mouthfuls.

“That’s impossible!” Twilight screeched. “It can’t be done! If it could be done, I never would have learned that you were Surprise!”

“Oh, yeah...” Pinkie said as the memory of how her identity had been rediscovered returned to her. “That part completely slipped my mind. Anyway, next, I’m going to try and figure out how to tell which pebbles are seeds for which kinds of gems.”

However, it was Penumbra’s reaction that was the most intriguing: her lips curled inward as the corners of her mouth curled upward, while she made brief noise like the sound of air escaping from a balloon. Moments later, her reserves of self-control had depleted entirely, and she let loose a long, deep, rapid cackle of unbridled glee that would have been infectious if it didn’t sound like she’d just pulled off the most dastardly scheme in the history of ponykind.

“Oh, come on!” Discord abruptly shouted. “It’s bad enough that I can’t get you to laugh, but do you really need to mock me with fake villain laughter?”

“Actually, she isn’t mocking you at all,” Pinkie Pie said. “Her normal laugh is exactly the same as Nightmare Moon’s.”

Discord seemed unsure how to respond to this, so he just said, “Oh,” and let the matter drop. Unfortunately for him, his outburst had provided enough time for Penumbra’s laughter to subside completely, removing his chance to snare a giggle from a sufficiently warmed-up audience.

“Well, that was amusing,” Penumbra said. “Shall we move on?”

“No, we shan’t!” Discord said. “How on earth was that funny?”

“You don’t really expect me to answer that, do you?” Penumbra asked with a bemusedly cocked eyebrow. “The whole point of this exercise is for you to figure that sort of thing out on your own.”

“I’d rather you stuck with Celestia’s stupid idea where you just try showing me the magic of friendship or whatever she calls it,” Discord grumbled.

“We’ll see,” Penumbra said enigmatically as she shot a toothless smirk in his direction.

——————————

The Great and Powerful Trixie leaned back in her crystal throne as she pondered her next move. Despite her near-limitless intellect and unfettered magical prowess, she’d encountered surprising difficulty in her attempts to formulate a perfect plan to take over Equestria. It seemed that world domination, though at first glance a relatively simple matter, quickly acquired massive amounts of complexity once one began to seriously consider how to pull it off.

The first step had been the most obvious and, not coincidentally, the easiest: Trixie needed minions, and, despite some initial misgivings, the Diamond Dogs seemed quite satisfied with this role once they realized that their new leader had no intention of making absurd demands of them. The fact that she had so far lived up to her promise of a steady supply of high-quality gems helped, too.

“Um, Your Greatness?” said a raspy, gravelly voice at the foot of Trixie’s throne, interrupting her train of thought.

“Yes? What is it, Rover?”

The red-vested Diamond Dog looked slightly nervous—from the snippets of conversation that Trixie had overheard amongst the pack, he was apparently worried that Trixie would start acting like the “white pony” that the canines adamantly refused to name. “You requested news of Equestria. There are to be two new Princess ponies—”

“Trixie was already aware of this,” Trixie said lazily. “In fact, I believe it was I who told you of it.”

“Of... of course, Your Powerfulness,” Rover said with a slight stammer. “However, there is a third pony who chooses not to be crowned, and she is doing other things.”

Trixie was unsure if this vagueness was an attempt to make whatever news Rover had sound more intriguing or simply an unavoidable side effect of trying to communicate in a second language, but that quibble was hardly important at the moment. “Continue,” she commanded.

“This pony is named Penumbra. Our scouts have learned that she attempts to reform the one known as Discord.”

“Really? And how exactly does she intend to do that?”

“We, um, have not learned this yet.”

Trixie sighed. “Well, I suppose it’s better than nothing. Keep tabs on the situation, and let me know when you learn more.”

“Of course, Your Greatness,” Rover replied. “Ah, there is one thing though.”

The Great and Powerful Trixie rolled her eyes and lifted a moderately sized stone into the air. Seconds later, an impressive-looking sapphire landed in Rover’s eager paws. “Thank you, Your Greatness!” the Diamond Dog said with a bow before leaving his employer alone with her thoughts once again.

There did seem to be an opportunity of some sort here, if only because Trixie had heard about Discord’s antics the last time he’d managed to get loose. If the rumors were even the slightest bit true, subjecting the notorious draconequus to any sort of reformation was almost guaranteed to fail, and when it did, he would more than likely be annoyed. Clearly, there was potential to recruit an ally here, and a rather capable one at that. However, there was a glaring problem: Discord was a chimera, and as such, he was disturbingly... haphazard.

Still, although Trixie was Great and Powerful, she was hardly in a position to effectively challenge the Princesses, whether current or future. She would need assistance, and in this regard, Discord would be most useful, if he could be persuaded to join her efforts. Besides, there was no rule that said that any given alliance had to last forever, so why shouldn’t she indulge in pragmatism for the time being?

Really, there was only one thing about the situation that caused any hesitation: the nagging, inexpressible feeling that all this greatness and power had reduced Trixie’s... Trixieness, for lack of a better word. She’d never had any interest ruling over the masses before; she’d been more than content with their cries of adulation at the end of a show. However, this notion was quickly banished from her mind. After all, it was due to Twilight Sparkle that her accolades as a performer had evaporated into quintessence, which was why she had to demonstrate her superiority in her nemesis’ chosen field of politics. It wasn’t the Great and Powerful Trixie’s fault—none of it was. Twilight Sparkle had forced her hoof.

Chapter 6: The Pony To Bet On

The passing of Prince Jovian II was hardly unexpected—he’d informed his daughters that he would be leaving the world of the living a full year in advance of his departure, and in that time he’d transferred all of his political powers and responsibilities to them. To her mild surprise, Celestia discovered that, thanks to her poise, her gentle bearing, and her intimidating reputation as a powerful magician, she was quite adept at navigating the twists and turns of Equestrian politics. Of course, her far more introverted sister had a bit more trouble adjusting, but luckily, there were fewer ponies who stayed awake to attend her nightly courts, which meant that she had more free time for her studies, which had expanded from pure magical theory to such matters as military tactics and strategies.

Celestia smiled wistfully as she thought of her sister, and her seeming desire to be prepared for anything and everything. She wished that she had time for distractions of that sort, but it seemed her schedule grew more crowded every day. That meant less time to spend with Luna, of course, but it also meant that Quigley was getting pushed to the side.

Fortunately, despite his initial annoyance, the draconequus seemed to understand the gravity of his friends’ new duties, and immediately set to work on a proposal to improve the lives of their subjects. The eventual fruit of that labor was the reason for their closed-door meeting on this day; Quigley wanted Celestia’s opinion on his idea before he formally presented it to both of the diarchs when they held their weekly joint court.

The draconequus had been silent as Celestia read over his proposal, but the moment she set down the scroll, he leaned towards her and excitedly asked, “Well? What do you think? Will you support my idea?”

Celestia shook her head. “While I most certainly appreciate the thought thou hast put into thy proposal, I must refuse. For one thing, this ‘daylight savings time’ idea would not actually save a single hour of daylight. Those ponies who wished to do so could accomplish the same effect by waking up one hour earlier, and there would be no need to impose this idea upon those who do not wish to change. For another, there are many who would see such a policy as an insult to my sister’s honor; indeed, Luna herself might be found among that number. I see no reason to risk disharmony unless it is absolutely necessary.”

Celestia was somewhat worried about how her friend would handle this rejection of his idea. Quigley, however, merely sighed wistfully. “Oh, well. You can’t say I didn’t try to contribute to the betterment of ponykind.”The draconequus stood up and stretched out his body, causing several vertebrae to pop most conspicuously. “In any case, I think I had better spend a little bit of time in reflection. By your leave, Celestia.”

The white alicorn nodded silently, and Quigley winked away to who-knew-where.

——————————

Dear Luna,

The past few weeks have been quite eventful, as I’m sure you can guess. Twilight Sparkle has given me the impression that Celestia is rather miffed that I have decided not to pursue her suggested approach of showering him with kindness, but that could simply be the result of Twilight’s own doubts about my plan magnifying what might in truth be a mild annoyance on your sister’s part. However, I firmly believe that Discord is not the type who will reciprocate gestures of friendship out of mere gratitude; he needs a reason to actively pursue friendship of his own accord. The problem, of course, is that his history with you and your sister has, whether rightly or wrongly, made him extremely suspicious of friendship as an abstract concept.

All that being said, I do think he is making some progress, if only because his efforts are slowly but surely becoming genuinely amusing. Although he still has yet to determine whether I prefer satire or farce, I do think that he’s beginning to realize that I’m not really a fan of mean-spirited humor. For example, there was a brief period when he decided to use his talent for shapeshifting to do impressions of the Element-Bearers. While it’s certainly true that my friends have various foibles from which much humor may be obtained, Discord seemed unable to point this out in a tactful manner.

Thus, even though he put considerable effort into creating an accurate recreation of Rarity’s appearance and voice, Discord’s non-too-subtle efforts to illustrate how rarely she displays her generosity went rather unappreciated by his audience, which, it should be noted, included Rarity herself at the time. It seems that Discord is hardly the first to accuse her of simply hiding behind her Element to avoid actual situations where she might be expected to give something without any expectation of receiving anything in in return, because she launched into a rather detailed defense, pointing out that generosity performed out in the open often gives the impression that one’s acts are motivated by a desire for attention rather than out of any altruistic impulse. (As a side note, I think that Discord’s chances of evoking laughter would have been much greater had he simply behaved the way Rarity normally did, only speaking with her parents’ St. Paulomino accent instead of the upper-class Canterlot accent she usually affects. Seriously, can you imagine anything more ridiculous than that?)

He had much more success, in my opinion, in the way he poked fun at Rainbow Dash shortly after this incident. Rainbow had pulled “guard duty” for the day, and her patience for Discord’s comic missteps is far lower than anypony else I know. He’d just finished a somewhat hackneyed bit of observational comedy about the differences between earth ponies, pegasi, and unicorns (it seems that earth ponies tend to do things one way, pegasi do those same things in a different way, and unicorns behave in an altogether different fashion). Rainbow Dash did not appreciate this, and asked him if he was doing an impression of a terrible comedian whose jokes were all “super-boring.”

His response, I’m happy to say, was genuinely entertaining, to the degree where it will be worthwhile to actually summarize it here. Discord elaborated on the idea that nothing Rainbow Dash ever does is the slightest bit uninteresting—not even something normally mundane, like going to the post office to purchase stamps. Naturally, Dash wouldn’t simply take the most direct route to her destination, as that would cut down on her opportunities to look impressive. Thus, to get to the post office, which is about a block from her home, Discord speculated that Rainbow Dash starts by flying in the opposite direction, doing loops and corkscrews around any and all clouds along the way until she reached the train station, after which she circles around town until she reaches Sweet Apple Acres, slaloming through the orchard while using trees as pylons, and ascending into the stratosphere before dive bombing through the post office’s roof. This is made all the more impressive by the fact that she’s blindfolded the entire time. And, of course, once she reaches the post office, a full symphony orchestra plays tense, melodramatic music as she waits in line, as a fan machine blows her mane and tail behind her so she doesn’t lose the sensation of traveling at speeds above the spectrum barrier. And to top it all off, the stamps she eventually purchases commemorate her adventure of going to the post office to purchase those very stamps.

I couldn’t help but smile broadly as his little tirade ended, but unfortunately for Discord, smiles don’t count in this game. He did do a rather thorough job of pointing out how utterly impractical it would be if Rainbow Dash always acted in line with the persona she presents to the public, but it didn’t tickle my metaphorical funny bone enough to induce me to laugh. Ironically, though, I don’t think he was actually attempting to make me laugh at the time; indeed, he may even be unaware of how close he was to success, as his focus at the time was not on me, but on Rainbow Dash, whom he clearly wanted to upset (which he failed to do, as Rainbow Dash seems to enjoy the notion that everything she does is imbued with over-the-top awesomeness).

It must be said, though, that I am beginning to enjoy Discord’s company. Strained attempts at comedy aside, he really is an interesting conversationalist. Hearing bits and pieces of his side of the story of his defeat is quite intriguing, even if I have no way of knowing how much (if any) of it is true, though if he really was the one who came up with Daylight Savings Time, I suppose that makes him ultimately responsible for providing the opening that allowed me to corrupt you in the first place. Given the chaos that eventually erupted from Celestia’s ill-fated decision to reconsider his idea, it does make me wonder if he knew I was developing in your mind at the time he proposed it. I have, of course, not told him of this, as I think that such baseless speculation would be an unneeded distraction in his rehabilitation, but it is an interesting notion, if nothing else.

Even though Discord probably wouldn’t believe me if I told him, I really do want him to succeed. I still remember what it’s like to be consumed with self-centeredness, and I’m just as convinced that the quality of his life will improve as much as mine did if he takes a similar path. And yet, despite his self-absorption, I can’t help but wonder if Discord has ever really tried “being himself,” as the cliché goes—not just now, during this attempt at rehabilitation, but even after his initial manifestation. The way he’s acting right now does not differ from your memories of him a millennium ago. This is pure speculation, but I can’t shake the feeling that, despite his professed resentment of you and especially of Celestia, he is still trying to be Quigley after all these years.

But the hour grows late, and I begin to ramble. I have finished the basic infrastructure for the added seating at the coronation, and will be shipping it to Canterlot shortly. If you would be kind enough to make sure they are stored in lower-stratosphere conditions, I would be most appreciative. Please give my regards to your sister.

Your friend,
Penumbra

P.S. In the rather unlikely circumstance that Celestia truly is as upset as Twilight claims, feel free to remind her of what happened the last time I tried to be like her.

——————————

“He’s inside here,” Apple Bloom said as she guided Scootaloo to the doors of the spare barn. “Applejack says he decided to take the afternoon off to think up some new material, or somethin’ like that.”

“Thanks, Apple Bloom,” Scootaloo said as she rummaged through her saddlebag to make sure she had a pencil and notebook.

“Are ya sure you wanna do this, though? I thought you were gonna interview Rainbow Dash for the project.”

“She’s the backup plan in case Discord isn’t interested.”

“But why would you wanna talk to him in the first place?”

Scootaloo shifted her weight in mild embarrassment. “Um, well, my last report card wasn’t exactly impressive, so I figured if I turn in something Miss Cheerilee’s never seen before, she’s bound to give me extra credit, right?”

“Uh, I guess so. Just... holler if’n he gets outta hoof, okay?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” Scootaloo said confidently as she walked up to the doors and knocked.

“Who is it?” came a muffled, singsong reply.

It was as if all of the filly’s confidence had suddenly dried up. “Um, my name’s Scootaloo, Mr. Discord. I’m... I’m a friend of Apple Bloom’s.”

“Scootaloo? Wait, are you that orange pegasus filly? The one who gets easily tweaked whenever somepony calls her a chicken?”

“I am not a chicken!”

“Oh, yeah, you’re definitely the one I’m thinking of.” Discord said as the barn door burst open, nearly clipping Scootaloo on the nose. He stood in the doorway wearing a smoking jacket and holding an ebony pipe. “How may I help you?” he asked before putting the pipe in his mouth and blowing out several cubical bubbles.

“Well, um, I’m supposed to interview somepony for a project on Ponyville’s history. Miss Cheerilee said it should be somepony—um, I mean, somebody—who either knows about or took part in important events in the town’s past. And, well, since you sort of moved here when you came back the first time and made everything all crazy, I thought you’d be a good pony—um, I mean...”

“Draconequus,” Discord said flatly, his face showing no amusement whatsoever.

“Right. I thought you’d be a good dragon-eggs to talk to.” Scootaloo was really starting to wish she’d just asked Rainbow Dash like she’d originally intended.

“Sure, why not?” Discord responded, his mood abruptly becoming so chipper that Scootaloo initially thought he was doing some sort of Pinkie Pie impression. The chimera smiled broadly as he explained, “After all, I do owe you and your friends for breaking me out of that statue in the first place. If you hadn’t, I might never have had anything to do with Ponyville!”

Scootaloo glanced nervously at Apple Bloom, who was biting her lip as if she was afraid that she might accidentally enter the conversation if even the slightest noise escaped from her. The pegasus filly sighed and turned back to the massive creature in the doorway. “Uh, thank you, Mr. Discord.”

“Oh, there’s no need to be so formal. Call me Discord. Please, come in!”

“Uh, thank you.”

“And will you be joining us, Apple Bloom?”

“Um, actually, I was gonna go an’ interview my sister for the same project. But, uh, she’s buckin’ trees on that hill over there, in easy earshot, so if somethin’ weird happens, she’ll know.”

Discord smirked. “Why not wait until her chores are over?”

“Um... well... uh... heyisthatGrannySmithcallingottagobye!” Apple Bloom scurried back towards the farmhouse as fast at a full gallop.

“And she calls me a chicken,” Scootaloo grumbled as she followed Discord inside the barn. “Whoa,” she said as she looked around the building’s interior.

“Ah, I see you’ve noticed my design scheme.”

“You... you haven’t done anything to it! It looks exactly like the inside of a barn!”

Discord glowed with pride. “I know! Applejack is probably going to spend weeks scouring this place for booby traps once I move out. Well, assuming that she isn’t busy with other things....”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Never mind. You’re hear to talk with me about Ponyville, correct?” he said as he floated over to the doors.

“Uh, right. Um... would you mind not closing that door? I’d... well... I...”

“You want an escape route,” Discord finished for her. “Perfectly understandable. After all, I can be quite intimidating when I want to be.”

“Oh... thanks,” Scootaloo said awkwardly as she pulled her pencil and notepad out of her saddlebag. “Um, there’s a few standard questions to ask before I get started.”

Discord nodded understandingly as he floated in mid-air, blowing more oddly-shaped bubbles through his pipe. “Go on.”

“Okay,” Scootaloo said, looking at a checklist that she’d set down in front of her. “What is your full name?”

“Discord.”

“That’s it? You don’t have a second name that you just never use?”

Discord’s facial features tightened menacingly. “No, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll move on to your next question.”

“Um, alright. How old are you?”

The draconequus shrugged briefly before he answered, “Oh, a thousand years or so. I’ve never really bothered to keep count; I was a statue for most of them.”

Scootaloo finished writing Discord’s answer, and moved on to her next question: “What is your occupation?”

“Monarch Emeritus of Equestria.”

“You mean like a butterfly?”

“No,” Discord said, “but now that I think of it, that might make for an interesting joke—especially if I mix them with termites...”

“Uh, okay,” Scootaloo said slowly, feeling quite certain that she didn’t want to know what Discord was talking about. “So what does a Monarch Em... uh, what do you do?”

“Oh, I used to rule Equestria as King Discord, until Celestia and Luna rather unceremoniously forced me into retirement. And by ‘retirement,’ I mean ‘a statue in their sculpture garden.’”

“I thought Twilight Sparkle and her friends did that,” Scootaloo said with confusion.

Discord sighed. “I hadn’t actually made claim to my title the second time around. Besides, don’t you have a checklist to go through before you get to the good stuff?”

“Oh, right. What’s your favorite color?”

“Well, it used to be magenta, until a certain pony decided to be a spoilsport and refuse to cut loose with her power so I could have some fun with her, but I suppose argyle will do.”

Scootaloo didn’t know what gargoyles had to do with colors, but she never liked that particular question. “Let’s see... ‘What’s your sign?’” she asked, reading the question off with mild confusion in her voice.

“It’s a stop sign,” Discord said, producing an octagonal piece of red sheet metal. “See?”

“Uh, right. Okay, last one before we get into the main part of the interview. Do you have any close friends, relatives, or a special somepony?”

“No, no, and most definitely yes.”

“Really?” Scootaloo asked as her ears perked up attentively. She’d never expected to hear anything like this when she’d first decided to interview Discord. “Who is it?”

“Why, it’s me, of course!” Instantly, an exact copy of Discord in a black evening gown materialized next to the original.

“Oh, Discord,” said lady-Discord in a voice that sounded exactly like regular-Discord’s voice, “I can’t bear to be apart from your raw masculinity any longer! Take me! Take me now!”

“I think I’m going to be sick...”

“Hmph,” Discord said as his counterpart vanished. “Sounds to me like somepony needs to learn to accept alternative lifestyles. But that can wait until later. Please, continue with your interview.”

“Uh, right,” Scootaloo said as she flipped a page of her notebook. “So, when did you first come to Ponyville?”

“Oh, shortly after you and your friends released me. I figured if the three of you could cause that much chaos with an argument, then your hometown must be a nexus of lunacy. As it turned out, I was right.”

“So, it wasn’t because of anything you’d heard about before becoming a statue?” Scootaloo asked, hoping that Discord would provide something that would remove a little bit of responsibility from the Cutie Mark Crusaders.

“Ponyville hadn’t been founded yet.”

“Oh, right.” Given that Apple Bloom’s grandmother was one of the town’s founders, Scootaloo really should have known that. “Okay, so, why choose Ponyville then?”

“Two reasons. First, why not? Second, Twilight and her friends live here, and I wanted to mess with their heads. And I did a rather impressive job, if I may say so.”

“Um, alright,” Scootaloo said as she scribbled Discord’s answers onto her notepad. “So, how did you go about making Ponyville so... weird?”

“Well, a lot of it is chaos magic that isn’t really accessible to most ponies.”

“No, I mean, how did you decide what to do? Like, I know Big Macintosh thought he was a dog, but... why’d you decide to do that?”

“Whimsy,” Discord replied.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. Chaos is easy to pull off, my dear. As long as you steadfastly avoid thinking about the consequences of your actions, more often than not, you’ll end up making life more interesting.”

“But isn’t that kind of irresponsible?” Scootaloo asked. “I mean, you can’t just do whatever you want without considering how other ponies might feel.”

Discord stared at the filly for a few seconds with an incredulous look on his face. He then plucked a small object from nowhere and handed it to her.

“Huh?” Scootaloo asked as she stared at the pocket-sized mirror she’d just received. “What does this have to do with anything? Is there something on my face?”

“Never mind,” Discord said. “Go on to your next question.”

“Okay,” Scootaloo replied. “Is there anything you like about Ponyville? You know, when you’re not causing chaos in it?”

“Hmm... well, I do like the fact that it’s close to the Everfree Forest. Have you ever been there?”

“Uh, yeah. Magic doesn’t work right in there, though.”

“I know! To think, it still inspires fear and panic to this day—I do believe it might be my masterpiece.”

“Hang on. You made the Everfree forest so... so... scary?!”

“I prefer the word ‘chaotic,’ but yes.”

“Why?”

“Well, before the Everfree Forest was there, the Everfree Plains had the most fertile soil in Equestria. So, when my subjects rashly decided that they didn’t want me to be king anymore, I ripped the ethereal fabric of the region into teeny-tiny shreds and set them on fire, metaphorically speaking.”

“But... why would you do that?”

“To punish those ingrates for their insolence, of course. It wasn’t as though they actually needed all those farms. After all, I could create all the food they’d ever need with my own magic. But they kept pitching fits, and one thing led to another, and boom, I’m a statue.”

“Well, then is that why you decided to come back to Ponyville?”

“Oh, goodness no. I came back because Celestia hauled me over here while I was still a statue. The second statue, of course.”

“Alright... so, what made you stay?”

“It’s not so much what is making me stay as who. Specifically, yon local cloudsmith,” Discord said, pointing out an open window in the general direction of Cloud Nineteen.

“So, um, you’re friends with Penumbra, then?”

“Ha!” Discord said. “She only wishes we were. Look, has Apple Bloom told you about the little game we have?”

“A little bit. Something about making Penumbra laugh, and you get a prize, or something like that.”

“Eh, more or less. I’d have won by now if Penumbra hadn’t let Applejack decide on the rules.”

“What rules?”

“No fair thinking of an easy way to win,” Discord said with obvious irritation in his voice.

“Huh?”

“Never mind. My point is that I can see exactly what Penny’s trying to do.”

“Uh, okay,” Scootaloo said, unsure of how the interview had managed to get so far off topic. “What is Penumbra trying to do?”

“Instead of going out of her way to be my friend, she thinks she can make me befriend her, because that’s the only way I’ll get to know her well enough to figure out what will make her laugh. But the joke’s on her, because I’ve gotten around that little problem. I managed to get a smile out of her just the other day. A real one, not the kind she puts on when she’s about to make some pithy comment. I figure a real laugh is only a matter of time.”

Discord appeared to be quite proud of his accomplishment, and in a weird way, Scootaloo felt honored that she was the pony he’d chosen to share it with, but that didn’t remove the desire to shrink away from the draconequus’ disturbingly smug grin. “Oh, uh, that’s... nice, I guess. But, um, aren’t you worried that she’ll find out? Um, I did mention this was for a school project, right?”

“You did indeed, and I told you because it won’t matter if she finds out. She’ll probably just conclude that I’m deluding myself. Trust me, I know how ponies like Penumbra think. If anything, she’ll start letting her guard down around me.”

“So... you don’t like Penumbra very much then?”

Discord opened his mouth as if to give a quick, dismissive answer, but paused before a single sound escaped from him. After a few seconds of reconsideration, he answered, “Well, I suppose that when push comes to shove, she is fun to be around. Just not in the usual way.”

Scootaloo seemed confused by this answer. “What the heck does that mean?”

Discord rubbed his lower lip as he mulled over his response. “It’s somewhat difficult to put into words, but being around Penumbra is like having your own personal running commentary on reality, and a pleasantly sardonic one at that.”

“Huh? What do sardines have to do with it?”

Discord rolled his eyes at this question. “Get a dictionary, kid. In any case, she has a quick wit and is quite skilled at making cutting remarks, which initially annoyed me until I noticed that she acts that way with regard to everypony, even her closest friends.”

“Oh, uh, okay.”

“I guess another way to put it is that although making her laugh is challenging, I’m actually finding the challenge to be quite stimulating for my... creativity,” Discord said.

Figuring that ending the interview on a high note would look more impressive (and might therefore lead to a correspondingly high grade), the pegasus filly decided to take her leave. “Well, best of luck to you. It can’t be easy getting a laugh out of a pony who’s really good at holding them back.”

“Excuse me?!” Discord abruptly cried out, giving Scootaloo the distinct impression that she had said precisely the wrong thing. “What did you just say?”

“Er, best of luck to you?”

“The other thing you just said.”

“Oh, the part about how Penumbra holds back her laughs? Uh, well, it turns out that her laughs sound almost exactly the same as Nightmare Moon’s, and since this is the town were Nightmare Moon returned, a lot of ponies around are, you know, sensitive about it. Like, she gives foals bad dreams when she laughs, that sort of thing. Uh, but not me. Definitely not me. My dreams are totally awesome no matter how many creepy laughs I hear before I go to bed. Speaking of which, I should probably get home and turn in...”

“It’s five o’clock,” Discord replied, his face twisting into a scowl. “Finish explaining.”

Scootaloo was starting to sweat nervously; the knot in her stomach was now far worse than it had been at the start of the interview. “Uh, well, Pinkie Pie told me that Penumbra basically learned how to stop herself from laughing. You know, to make things less awkward. She said it’s almost impossible to make Penumbra laugh against her will.”

Discord’s nostrils flared out angrily as he stared out of an open window in the barn at an odd-looking cloud formation. “Is that so?” he asked through grinding teeth, which were starting to emit small sparks.

“Uh... maybe I should... go... now...?” Scootaloo proposed meekly as she shifted towards the barn doors.

Discord didn’t even turn his head as he answered, “Maybe you should.”

——————————

There wasn’t a single cloud in the starry sky over Sweet Apple Acres as the three hooded figures emerged from their freshly-dug tunnel and began to make their way towards the Apples’ spare barn. They moved as stealthily as possible, doing all they could to avoid detection... until, that is, the Ponyville clock tower struck three times, startling the smallest of the Diamond Dogs, who let out a high-pitched yip as he clambered onto the shoulders of the largest.

Rover smacked a paw against his forehead in frustration before growling angrily at Spot in their raspy native tongue. Reluctantly, Spot left his perch on Fido’s shoulders and returned to the ground. After several more muffled reprimands, the trio continued towards the barn. Soon, they were close enough to see light streaming through the edges of the door. Rover chose to take this as a good omen: it meant that they wouldn’t have to rouse the one they hoped to meet from his slumber. As they reached the large barn door, Rover balled his paw into a fist and reached out to knock, only for the door suddenly swing inward, creating a gust of wind that extinguished the light inside.

At this point, one might assume that the three Diamond Dogs were unnerved by their situation, but one would be wrong. They were, in fact, absolutely terrified. In fact, they probably would have fled were it not for the fact that the Great and Powerful Trixie had produced more than enough gems for the pack (which, of course, they’d immediately traded to dragons) to keep them rather severely indebted to her for quite some time, and common sense said that you did not cross a pony who was powerful enough to created flawless gemstones.

With a great deal of trepidation, the three Diamond Dogs shuffled inside the barn. “Hello?” Rover said tremulously. “Someone is here, yes?”

Suddenly the door slammed shut again, plunging the canines into darkness. The three of them backed away from the door as fast as they could, until Fido tripped over a bale of hay, causing the three of them to form an accidental dogpile. “What next?” asked Spot in a high-pitched whimper.

“Boo.”

A large, chimeric monstrosity chuckled to himself as he relit the lamps around the barn and stared up at the ceiling. “And here I was under the impression that dogs weren’t climbers,” he said as he looked at the visitors clinging to the rafters. “I’d probably subject you to some more lunacy, but quite frankly, I’m curious as to why anyone would want to call on me at three in the morning.”

As the seconds passed by without any further aggression from the draconequus, the three Diamond Dogs returned to the floor, though they instinctually stayed close together for protection. “You are Discord, yes?” Rover finally said, his voice cracking into a falsetto halfway through the final word.

“The one and only,” replied the chimera. “And who might you be?”

“We are here for the Great and Powerful Trixie,” Fido said with absolutely no emotion in his voice whatsoever, giving the distinct (and not entirely inaccurate) impression that he had committed his part in this presentation to rote memory.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie?” Discord asked.

“You have heard of her greatness?” Rover asked.

“Well, I don’t know about ‘greatness,’ but I have heard few things about her,” Discord replied in an annoyed grumble. “Like her knack for spoiling all my best ideas....” he trailed off, leaving only an awkward silence that endured for several excruciating seconds.

Somehow, Spot managed to muster enough courage to make the trio’s main pitch: “The Great and Powerful Trixie wishes to form an alliance with you.”

Discord cocked an eyebrow skeptically, but other than that, he seemed to willing to entertain the idea. “For what purpose?”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie...” Fido trailed off, having forgotten what he was supposed to say.

“Overthrow the Princesses,” Rover whispered harshly.

“Oh, right. She wants to throw the Princesses over,” Fido corrected himself.

“Eh, close enough,” Discord said, shrugging off the large canine’s difficulties with the language. “So, is there any particular reason she waited until now to contact me?”

Rover seemed uncertain how to answer this. “Um, the Great and Powerful One did not tell us.”

“Is that so? And how, pray tell, did whatshername know I was getting frustrated? Has she had me under surveillance this whole time?”

“Uh, no,” Rover said. “The Great and Powerful Trixie knows nothing of the attempt to reform you, other than the fact that it is happening. She assumes that you will not reform because you are Discord.”

“Huh... well, I suppose that means she isn’t an idiot.”

“Oh, no!” Rover answered. “Her Greatness is surely the wisest of ponies.”

“Indeed... and where exactly is your dear leader right now?”

Rover scratched the back of his head nervously; somehow, he got the odd feeling that giving a straightforward answer would carry far more risk than he was comfortable with, but his Equestrian vocabulary, though adequate for most purposes, wasn’t quite detailed enough for the level of subtlety he would have liked. “Um... she is in a cave to the south.”

Discord stroked his goatee thoughtfully with one of his talons. “Hmm... to the south, you say? This cave wouldn’t happen to be in the Badlands, now would it?” he asked with a malicious smirk.

“How did he know?!” Spot cried out in panic.

“Are you sure you want to know the answer to that question?” Discord said, grinning maliciously.

The three Diamond Dogs almost immediately decided that this was not, in fact, the pressing issue that Spot had initially assumed it to be. “Shall we take you to see the Great and Powerful Trixie?” Rover asked, his voice quavering nervously.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” the draconequus answered. “I can make my own travel arrangements.” With that, Discord snapped his talons and vanished in a puff of smoke.

——————————

Trixie sat on her crystal throne, soaking in the perfection of the room’s new decor as she wallowed in her own greatness and power. Within a few days, Rover, Fido, and Spot would be returning, and with any luck, they would be accompanied by the infamous Discord. Soon, all the pieces would be in place, and her plan could proceed. All that remained was to secure the cooperation of this potential ally, but there was plenty of time to consider—

The would-be autocrat was suddenly jolted from her visions of power and greatness by a huge cloud of dust that spontaneously appeared in her throne room, causing her to cough and gag on the airborne particles. “Ooh, sorry about that,” said a broad, flat voice that carried not a drop of sincerity. It took nearly a minute for the dust to settle and reveal the voice’s owner.

“Discord?! What are you doing here?”

The draconequus shrugged. “Standing, apparently.”

Trixie’s eye twitched ever-so-slightly in annoyance. “That is not what I meant. Why are you here?”

“Well, your minions left me with the rather distinct impression that you had some business to discuss with me.”

It was a far more reasonable answer than Trixie would ever have expected from Discord, which threw her off for a few seconds. “Oh, well, yes, I suppose I do, but the Great and Powerful Trixie was expecting to have a chance to, well, tidy up a bit. Also, she had assumed that her minions would be coming back with you.”

Discord stared at the caped showpony with a decidedly skeptical squint in his left eye. “Do you always switch between the first and third person like that?”

Trixie snorted derisively. “Trixie uses whatever pronouns will maximize her dramatic effect at any given moment,” she said, perhaps a little too insistently. In truth, she hadn’t noticed this rather distressing inconsistency—apparently, she’d gotten sloppy during her first hiatus from Ponyville. Still, important though such matters were, she didn’t have time to dwell on their implications at the moment.

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” Discord said as he raised his arms defensively. “Never let it be said that Discord criticized somepony for breaking arbitrary rules of grammar. Speaking of arbitrary rules, if we’re going to discuss business, we may as well start with formal introductions.”

This was not what Trixie had expected to hear. “Uh, you’ll have to forgive my confusion, but I never would have suspected that you’d be interested in formality.”

“Oh, there’s nothing wrong with being formal, my dear. It’s consistency that’s unrelentingly boring. Now, where was I? Oh, yes. I am Discord, Monarch Emeritus of Equestria.” The draconequus ended his sentence with a low, distinctly old-fashioned-looking bow.

“And I am the Great and Powerful Trixie,” replied the showpony, who did not return the gesture.

“That’s it?” Discord asked. “No list of pretentious titles?”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie needs no additional titles to convey that which is already self-evident in her name.”

“Ah, so you don’t have any other titles yet.”

“That is beside the point,” Trixie said brusquely. “Additional titles are nothing more than unnecessary embellishment.” Hoping to shift the subject away from her dearth of accolades, she climbed down from her crystal throne and began trotting around the chamber. “You are currently standing in a private chamber of my personal headquarters—though I suppose it isn’t nearly as private as I thought. It is from here that I intend to launch my bid for power, with the assistance of my loyal Diamond Dog minions.”

Discord, however, didn’t appear to have been listening. Instead, he was casting his gaze around the chamber, taking in the decor. In Trixie’s own opinion, she had made vast improvements to its previous state. Gone were the flowing, curved artworks, and with them their distressing tendency to ebb and flow with disturbing irregularity. In their place were carefully selected and crafted examples of regular solids, each of which had been repeatedly checked to verify their uniform precision before being accorded the honor of being allowed in the presence of the Great and Powerful Trixie to bring her joy and comfort.

By comparison, Discord’s opinion seemed far less enthusiastic. “Hmm... very angular. This isn’t quite how I remember leaving this cave the last time I was here....”

Trixie’s eyes widened in horror—the possibility that Discord might have been the previous resident of her cave had never once occurred to her. “This is... was your cave?”

“Oh, no, my dear. Rather it was temporary housing for some... former associates of mine.”

“I see,” Trixie said. She paused as she carefully thought over the best way to phrase her next question. “Did you perchance have a strong opinion about the previous state of the cave?”

“Well, I’ve only been here once before, and that was before anypony had done any interior decorating, though I did chip in some help with the door, in a manner of speaking. So, is this throne room your work, or that of the previous tenants?”

The Great and Powerful Trixie briefly considered her options. On the one hoof, Discord seemed impressed with the idea that one pony could do all the work on display in the room, which in turn implied that it reflected well on her Greatness and Power. On the other hoof, most of the work had been finished before she got here, and all she’d done was to make a few much-needed improvements to enhance the regularity of the chamber’s geometry. This didn’t sound nearly as impressive, but it didn’t carry the risks associated with getting caught in a lie.

Fortunately, Trixie had more than two hooves. “It was the Great and Powerful Trixie alone who transformed this cave into a place worthy of a pony for her stature.” This was not technically a lie at all—even if the basic infrastructure had already been in place, there had been far too many curves and other imperfections to properly reflect the precision of her superiority.

Luckily, Discord seemed willing to leave the matter at that. “So, you’re trying to take over, then? And presumably, you want my assistance?”

“Well, that would make things a bit simpler.”

“And why would I want to help you?”

“Because when the dust has settled, the two of us can divide Equestria into our own spheres of influence. We can work out the specifics if you choose to enter into this alliance, but rest assured that if we succeed, you will control large areas which you’ll be able to rule according to your whims, while I will be able to recreate society from the ground up in my own territory.”

Discord scratched his chin as he looked over his potential collaborator. “Hmm... I don’t know. Celestia and Luna aren’t exactly pushovers. How do I know you won’t just stand back and make me do all the work?”

Trixie was a bit miffed that her greatness and power had been so bluntly questioned. “Ha! Anything they can do, the Great and Powerful Trixie can do better. Name one feat of theirs, and I shall replicate it.”

“Raising the sun.”

“Allow me to rephrase that. Name one feat of theirs that can be replicated inside a cave.”

Discord pondered this for a while, but he soon came up with a response. “Well, back in the day, Luna did have quite a knack for dispelling my chaos magic. But then again, she was the Bearer of Magic at the time, so perhaps that’s to be expected...”

Trixie’s ears perked up at the mention of the Element of Magic. Unless she was mistaken (and she wasn’t), that was the same Element that was under the command of her nemesis, Twilight Sparkle! All at once, the pieces of her otherwise inexplicable defeat finally fell into place. Not only had the Alicorn Amulet been holding her back, but Twilight Sparkle must have been drawing on the power of her Element as well! At the end of the day, Little Miss Goody-Four-Shoes was nothing but a rotten cheater! But things were different now. Trixie Lulamoon had ascended to heights of greatness and power even more dizzying than the normal mind could comprehend. Anything that the Element of Magic could do, she could do better. Neigh, she would do better. “Very well,” she announced. “Perform a spell of your most chaotic imaginings, and I shall revert its effects.”

“Okay... let’s see.... Ah! Here’s a good one.” Discord snapped his fingers and suddenly the entire room seemed to be bending and bowing, as if being viewed through a fisheye lens.

“What did you do?”

“Oh, I just changed the rules of geometry a bit. Now the angles of a triangle add up to 200 degrees, at least in this room. It took Luna a solid fifteen minutes to dispel this one from her bedroom, which was about the same size as this chamber, so I’d say it’s a pretty good benchmark. Have fun!” Discord sat back in an invisible (and more than likely nonexistent) chair to observe Trixie’s efforts.

Ordinarily, dispelling magic like this would require a mage to carefully pull away at strands in the ether until the chaos had been completely unraveled, followed by an equally careful reconstruction of the status quo. This, however, was not an ordinary circumstance, at least as far as the Great and Powerful Trixie was concerned. The whole room, which only minutes ago had been a veritable monument to joys of precision and perfection, had suddenly become nauseatingly wrong. There was no time to deal with such inanities like magical theory—she needed to act before all her hard work dissolved into a logical ataxia.

The Great and Powerful Trixie’s eyes flared red, and it was as though the wind off of a speeding train had rushed through the chamber, expelling the entropy that had befouled the room in a matter of seconds, leaving all her precious solids regular once again, and leaving Discord absolutely dumbfounded.

“Okay... that was impressive. So, when do we take over?”

Once again, Trixie was thrown off by the draconequus’ comments. “You’re... agreeing to help me? Just like that?”

“Of course! After all, I don’t think I’d want to be going up against you. I may be a nutcase, but I’m not a moron.”

This almost sounded too good to be true. “Really? You aren’t even interested in why I want power?”

“Nope! As far as I’m concerned, your reasons don’t matter all that much; I simply refuse to let a chance to shake things up pass me by. It’s against my principles, you see. Now then, do you have a timetable in place, or did you actually expect me to help you... ugh... plan your little coup d’état?”

“Uh, well, I had a rough idea, but I thought you might not want to get bogged down with details.”

“Great! Planning was my least favorite thing about the last time I tried a putsch. When do we strike?”

“During the upcoming coronation,” Trixie responded. Her voice was relatively quiet, but as she explained the reason behind her choice it began to rapidly crescendo: “I can’t wait to see the look on Twilight Sparkle’s face when she’s finally forced to admit the superiority of the Great and Powerful Trixie!”

Discord seemed taken aback. “Seriously? This is about petty revenge?”

“No! Of course not. It’s far more complicated.”

The draconequus sighed. “Well, that’s a shame, because petty revenge is a motive I can really get behind.”

“Oh. Well, in that case, yes, it is mostly petty revenge.”

“Splendid!” Discord cried as he snapped his talons and produced two ostentatiously jeweled goblets and a large bottle of mead. He was just about to begin pouring a generous serving when he suddenly froze. “Oh, hang on. If we’re forming an alliance, you’ll probably want something that won’t explode in your stomach.”

“Er, no.”

Discord unceremoniously chucked the bottle over his shoulder (the resulting explosion nearly knocked Trixie’s favorite icosahedron off its stand) and produced a white cardboard carton to replace it. “I hope you don’t mind half-and-half,” he said as poured the creamy dairy product into the goblets and handed one to Trixie, who grasped it in her magical aura.

“It will suffice, I suppose.” She lifted her goblet above her head. “To victory!”

Discord likewise raised his goblet in the air. “To petty revenge!”

Seconds later, the contents of the goblets had been quaffed, and Discord indulged in a burp, followed by a low chortle which gradually built into a disturbingly loud cachinnation. It didn’t take long before the Great and Powerful Trixie joined him in his gloating laughter, letting loose a high-pitched, triumphant cackle of her own that echoed throughout the cavern for what felt like hours to the pack of Diamond Dogs who had been accidentally roused from their slumber by the sudden noise.

It felt good to finally make a pony laugh.

Chapter 5: Devil's Night Auction

Upon learning of Quigley’s existence, the princesses’ father had came to two conclusions: first, that Celestia had uncovered some heretofore unknown or forgotten form of magic, and second, that the draconequus’ true origins needed to be kept secret, in case there were military applications for whatever magic led to his first manifestation. Thus, he now spent most of his time in the form of a unicorn stallion with a russet coat and a grizzled silver mane and beard and a cutie mark consisting of a sealed scroll. As “Quigley” was a rather odd name for a pony, he selected the somewhat more equine-sounding “Discord” for his public persona.

Naturally, with this new name came a cover story, as the fact that the princesses were spending a lot of time with a strange, middle-aged stallion was unlikely to stay within the palace’s confines. Thus, “Discord” was said to be a scholar whom the two alicorns had appointed to assist them in the research of arcane and obscure branches of magic. Not only would this explain why he was so often found in their company, it also provided some cover for his occasional violations of common sense and reason.

“Then, I made the arrogant blowhard’s mug disappear, but I left the handle and the drink in place, so he didn’t know what happened until he raised his drink and got a faceful of cider!”

Celestia giggled as she listened to Quigley’s account of his recent adventure in the nearest tavern. “It sounds as though this Blatherskite fellow needed to have his ego deflated. I trust he did not take well to his newfound dampness?”

The draconequus, who was currently floating around the Royal Library in his preferred chimeral form, snickered. “I did much more than that—when the cider hit his face, I transformed it into apple jelly. I tell you, he’s going to have quite the ordeal getting that stuff out of his immaculately coiffed mane.”

“That’s all well and good,” Luna said, “but how did you explain it to the other ponies?” Her face had a neutral expression, though her tone of voice indicated a mild level of concern.

“Oh, I just made something up about liquid viscosity. I’m not even sure if the only pony who asked me could hear my answer over the laughter. Anyway, the more genial patrons asked me for an encore, but it was getting late, so I excused myself and came back here for some well-earned sleep.”

“They brushed aside strange magic so quickly?”

“Oh, it’s not all that strange, my dear Luna,” Quigley said. “I’m pretty sure there’s a spell like that one somewhere on these shelves. As to their acceptance, do keep in mind that most of them were deep into their cups by the time the incident happened. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if half of them forgot it the next morning—though if you like, I can make sure of it. I’ll even fix the ones who didn’t forget it, free of charge.”

“Er... no, that shall not be necessary, Quigley,” Luna said. Although her sister had ended her sentence with a smile, Celestia could not help but think that it was covering up some sort of worry. Perhaps this was due to the ever-so-subtle twitch in the corner of her sister’s mouth, or perhaps she was simply imagining things.

In any case, it hardly seemed worthwhile to make a fuss over the matter. There were far too many things that needed to be done to devote any amount of time to introspection; in addition to her daily sun-raisings, the meetings with dignitaries, and the balls, galas, and other assorted ceremonies, she wanted to spend as much time with Quigley as—

Celestia’s train of thought was interrupted as a series of knocks sounded from the library doors.

There was a bit of scuffling around as Quigley returned to his “Discord” form, but soon enough Luna called out, “Enter.”

It was the Royal Chamberlain, a wizened green unicorn stallion with a short black mane. “Princess Celestia? Princess Luna? Your father wishes to speak with you.”

——————————

Twilight Sparkle had seen hundreds of Celestia’s sunrises in her lifetime, but she couldn’t help but think that this morning’s dawn was especially impressive, with its band of orange breaking around Mt. Canterlot, contrasting sharply with the sapphire blue of the pre-dawn sky before the glorious orb crept into view, while in an equally impressive touch, the brightest stars in the night sky had lingered for nearly twenty minutes longer than normal, which could only mean that Celestia had coordinated this display with Luna.

The sight from Twilight’s guestroom balcony filled the purple mare with both gratitude and humility, because she knew that she was one of the reasons that the Royal Sisters had put so much effort into what would have otherwise been an everyday occurrence. After weeks of planning, the big day had finally arrived; by sunset, the ceremony would be over and she and Pinkie Pie would officially be Princesses of Equestria. Understandably, she hadn’t gotten much sleep the previous night, so she’d resorted to some light reading in order to take her mind off of the upcoming event (which in this instance consisted of an unabridged copy of Wintermute’s classic Advanced Neuromancy).

She was in the midst of a chapter on the effective use of ethereal matrices when her concentration was interrupted by an familiar, euphonious voice: “Sunshine, sunshine, ladybugs awake...”

Twilight Sparkle grinned broadly as she heard the rhyme. That grin became even wider when she turned around and saw her former foalsitter and current sister-in-law Cadance standing in the doorway. “Clap your hooves and do a little shake!” Twilight replied as she leapt to her hooves and rushed over to embrace her friend in a tight hug. “I’m so glad you could be here!”

“Well, it’s not every day that Equestria adds princesses to its ranks,” Cadance said as she walked into the room and sat on Twilight’s hardly-used bed. “I’m only sorry that I couldn’t arrive in time for yesterday’s rehearsal. I didn’t expect that Shining Armor’s inspection of the Royal Guard would last so long.”

Twilight had no problem accepting this explanation. “It’s not like it’s a particularly complicated ceremony, especially for somepony who isn’t making any speeches. Besides, you aren’t the only one who wasn’t there. Spike’s still back in Ponyville, after all.”

Cadance, however, looked rather concerned. “He isn’t sick, is he?”

“What? Oh, no. It’s just that somebody needs to stay there to keep an eye on Discord, and he can get in touch with us really quickly by sending a letter to Celestia if anything goes wrong. That, and Rarity insists that if even one of the Elements of Harmony doesn’t make an appearance, the tabloids will start manufacturing all sorts of nasty scandals.”

“Oh, that’s a shame. I’m sure he’d do anything to be here.”

At this, Twilight began shifting her weight awkwardly. “Uh... well, to his credit, Spike did make a show of wanting to be here for Pinkie and me—you know, because I’m his best friend and Pinkie Pie is his ‘twin sister’ and we’re both really important to him—but it was also kind of obvious that he wasn’t looking forward to standing around for several hours listening to speeches and watching choreographed rituals. Applejack said he could borrow her family’s radio so he and Discord could listen to the broadcast, though, so he was able to save face and keep to his personal code of honor.”

Cadance smiled warmly; it wasn’t all that long ago that Twilight would have had a similar reaction to attending a public function. “Well, I’m sure the rest of your friends are excited.”

“You bet they are!” Twilight said gleefully. “Even Penumbra... though she doesn’t normally express excitement the way most ponies do.”

“Penumbra? Oh, right. The Duchess of Everfree. She’s here as well?”

“Well, yeah. After all, if it wasn’t for her, Pinkie and I would never have ascended in the first place. Granted, if she wasn’t evil at the time, we wouldn’t have needed to ascend, but we try not to dwell on her past.”

“She sounds rather... interesting.”

Twilight’s eyes widened as she realized what Cadance was hinting at. “Oh... that’s right, you haven’t had the chance to meet her yet, have you?”

“I had a brief introduction when she was invested with her title, but Shining Armor and I had to leave soon after that ceremony ended.”

“Well, we can fix that,” Twilight said, strolling out of her room and down the hall. “Come on, she’s usually up early anyway.”

——————————

If there was one thing that The Great and Powerful Trixie had learned from her time with the Diamond Dogs, it was that there were few places in Equestria that couldn’t be accessed from underground (with the overwhelming majority of the exceptions being pegasus cities like Cloudsdale). Apparently, nearly every cave was connected through a series of underground tunnels, though how many of these were natural and how many were the efforts of miners and Diamond Dogs in the past was impossible to say. None of that mattered to The Great and Powerful Trixie, as she was more interested in the beautiful crystalline caverns within Mt. Canterlot. Trixie had heard of them before; they’d been mentioned once or twice in newspaper reports of the previous year’s Changeling invasion, but she’d never imagined that they’d look so impressive, especially since they were the result of uncontrolled natural forces. Why, with a little extra magic, she could easily imagine how this place could be made orderly enough for a civilized pony to inhabit.

However, she was not there as a tourist; this was to be the staging ground for the night’s offensive, which was why the Diamond Dogs had gathered their entire Pack (numbering an impressive 256 when all were accounted for) to hear her instructions. “Now, due to our ally’s inherently chaotic nature, we are sadly unable to indulge in the luxury of a precisely-timed offensive. Still, Discord should be far enough away from Canterlot to prevent any unexpected disruptions from his... improvisations,” she mused as she paced in front of large, glowing portrait of herself that she’d conjured up to improve the cavern’s ambience. “After all, he wouldn’t want to risk facing all the Elements of Harmony unless he absolutely had to. He may be stark raving mad, but he isn’t an idiot.”

“But your Greatness,” Rover said nervously, “what if Discord does not act at all tonight?”

Trixie briefly clenched her teeth as the unwelcome scenario entered her mind, but she soon dismissed it. “Then he will learn the consequences of toying with the Great and Powerful Trixie.”

“But will you not be in danger if the ponies do not have to deal with Discord?”

“Oh, most certainly, but The Great and Powerful Trixie has taken precautions to make sure that they will have to deal with more than just Discord and herself.”

Rover started wringing his paws and looking around apprehensively. “Ah, I see. Will your Greatness need the Pack to, er, help you?”

The unicorn sighed. “No, you won’t have to fight anypony. Provided that you follow the directions you have been given precisely, there should be no reason why you would need to do anything beyond returning spoils to The Great and Powerful Trixie’s headquarters. I trust the Diamond Dogs are up to that little task?”

Rover nodded quickly. “Yes, yes, the Pack can do this for Trixie.”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie.”

The Diamond Dog nodded sycophantically; he did not argue with the correction, but continued: “I shall inform the others that the plan will proceed, yes?”

For a split-second, The Great and Powerful Trixie’s lips seemed ready to curl into a smile, but they ultimately retained their neutral expression. “Please do. We commence at sundown.”

——————————

“This is cruel and unusual punishment!”

Spike rolled his eyes as he twiddled the knobs on the Apple family’s radio. It had taken all morning to get it set up, partly because it was so large that moving it from the farmhouse to Discord’s barn took several hours, partly because it took a few more hours to find a generator to power it, but mostly because the draconequus had absolutely refused to provide him with any help whatsoever. “It’s not that bad,” he said.

“Not that bad? Not only am I being subjected to the degradation of being babysat by a ten-year-old, but he’s making me listen to one of the most colossally boring events in Equestrian history.”

“Actually, I’m only nine,” Spike replied. “And I’m not babysitting you, I’m just watching you.”

“Details,” Discord said dismissively as he flopped onto a bale of hay and sulked. “I don’t know why I shouldn’t just get up and leave right now.”

“Because I’d squeal on you in about two seconds?” Spike replied as he finally found a frequency with relatively good reception. “There we go. Time to settle in for a... um... interest— uh, no, make that an educational afternoon.”

“Hmph,” Discord snorted as he began tossing explosive pickles at a dartboard with Spike’s face on it. “You don’t even want to listen to it either.”

“I do so!” the dragon retorted. “I mean, sure, it probably won’t be fun, but this is important to Twilight and Pinkie Pie, and they’re important to me. I gave them my word, and the Noble Dragon Code says I should do whatever I can to keep my promise.”

Discord raised one of his eyebrows in bemusement. “You just ripped off that Pinkie Promise idea for that, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t rip it off. I was inspired by it. Plus, she gave me permission to do it, so it doesn’t matter if it wasn’t my idea. Besides, she’s family.”

“You’re still insisting that she’s your twin sister?”

“Yes,” Spike said defiantly, and he refused to provide any further justification.

Fortunately, any further discussion was interrupted by a series of rapid knocks on the barn’s door. “Hey,” came Apple Bloom’s voice from the other side, “y’all mind if we come in?”

Spike glanced over at Discord, who gave a limp-wristed wave of indifference. The dragon then walked over to the door and swung it open to reveal the Cutie Mark Crusaders. “Hi, there! Do you need something?”

Apple Bloom stared at the ground and replied, “Um, well...”

Scootaloo, however, quickly tired of this dithering. “We wanna listen to the broadcast with you.”

“Really?” Spike asked in surprise. “Did Cheerilee give you an assignment or something?”

“No,” Sweetie Belle said before either of her friends could answer. “We just want to listen because Twilight and Pinkie are our friends.”

“Oh!” Spike said. “You hear that, Discord? It’s perfectly normal to do boring things for your friends.”

Discord looked rather skeptical. “Are you three sure it’s not because all the pomp and ceremony activates the pleasure centers in the girliest parts of your brains?”

“Uh, no, don’t be silly!” the unicorn filly replied, her voice wavering slightly. “We’re just doing our duty as friends, that’s all.”

The draconequus sighed. “Oh, well. At least you three are genuinely interesting. Might as well make the best of the situation. Who wants snacks?”

Spike looked a little concerned at Discord’s sudden acceptance of the situation. “Uh, I’m not sure—”

But the fillies had already rushed towards a massive pile of rock candy that had appeared on the floor and started digging in. Spike looked away from the trio and back at Discord. “If that stuff does anything to them...”

“...you’ll tell Celestia, which is precisely why they’ll be perfectly fine. Now, how about you?”

“No thanks,” Spike said. “I prefer actual gems to the sugary kind.”

“Oh? Well, then how about some ice cream, then?” Discord said, producing a cone. “It’s strawberry...”

Spike was clearly interested in the proffered treat, but still seemed reluctant to trust the draconequus. “I don’t know...”

“With sapphire sprinkles...”

Spike looked longingly at the creamy pink ball as it was dusted with glittering blue gems. “Okay... maybe just one.”

Discord smiled as he handed the ice cream cone to Spike. “If you want more, just ask,” he said as his eyes narrowed mischeviously. “There’s plenty to go around.”

——————————

Twilight Sparkle had every intention of searing each moment of the coronation into her memory from the moment she arrived at the amphitheater where the ceremony took place, and to her brain’s credit, her plan seemed to be working at first. She distinctly remembered the polite reaction to Penumbra’s entrance (tempered, no doubt, by the surprise of the many ponies who were apparently still unaware that there even was a Duchess of Everfree), the much more enthusiastic response to Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, and Fluttershy, and the extended greeting given to Celestia, Luna, and Cadance. She even remembered most of Penumbra’s oration—Celestia had insisted that Penny make the speech so that she could be more firmly established as a public figure, as opposed to an insular noble who spent all her time at her cloud-forge. This turned out to be an inspired decision, as Penumbra had retained most of the Nightmare’s flair for the dramatic, which was only enhanced by the fact that she’d shapeshifted into the svelte Royal form, complete with a nonfunctional horn. This in turn meant that her speech about Twilight and Pinkie’s virtues ended up being one of the day’s highlights.

However, the moment that Twilight Sparkle stepped into the amphitheater with Pinkie Pie and began walking up the center aisle to where the three Princesses stood, the thunderous ovation of several thousand ponies seemed to cause time itself to blur. Like Penumbra, the two of them had shapeshifted into lithe alicorns, complete with the appropriate decorative appendages, though at that moment Twilight wouldn’t have been surprised if she spontaneously developed the ability to fly, or to at least float on top of the adulation of the crowd.

Twilight wasn’t certain how long it took them to reach the stage; it somehow felt like forever and an instant at the same time. Yet eventually, the pair reached Celestia, Luna, and Cadance, and knelt in respect before turning around to face the onlookers. Twilight didn’t really pay attention to the brief remarks Celestia gave; the language was completely ceremonial in nature, and she’d already read it over countless times in the past few weeks.

Then the crowns floated down from the sky, guided by Celestia’s magic. Twilight’s tiara, not surprisingly, was the Element of Magic, whereas Pinkie’s was a more standard crown, mostly because she thought the Element of Laughter looked cuter in its necklace. A hush fell over the crowd as the symbols of authority were gently placed on the alicorns’ heads. Celestia then bade the pair to rise to their hooves and, using the Royal Canterlot Voice at its maximum volume, proclaimed, “Behold Twilight Sparkle, Princess of the Mind! Behold Pinkie Pie, Princess of the Spirit!”

Immediately after the crowning, Princess Twilight Sparkle and Princess Pinkie Pie, followed closely by Celestia, Luna, Cadance, and (of course) their closest friends, exited the amphitheater and climbed into chariots for a grand procession through Canterlot as their subjects filled the streets to catch a glimpse of the new Royals. Streamers, confetti, marching bands—all were present, but more than anything Twilight noticed the cheering. Several times Pinkie leaned over and mentioned something in her typically ecstatic tone of voice, but Twilight was too distracted to actually listen; instead she simply smiled and nodded at her friend before returning to the task of waving to the crowd.

When the procession finally reached the Royal Palace, Twilight Sparkle had an hour or so to pause and reflect. As she watched the sun approach the horizon from the balcony of her guest room—though, technically speaking, she was no longer a guest—she couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment. All of the repeated insecurities and self-doubt that she’d felt in the past had gone, leaving nothing but the opportunities of the future in front of her. So far, today had easily been the best day of her life, and with Pinkie Pie’s afterparty to look forward to, there was no reason to think that the night would be any different.

——————————

“Way to go, Twilight!” Spike shouted joyfully at the radio as though his friends could hear him on the other side, though in truth, a good chunk of that joy stemmed from the fact that three of the most excruciatingly dull hours of his life were finally behind him, though he wasn’t about to admit that to anyone. He glanced over at the Cutie Mark Crusaders, who must have been on their sixth serving of rock candy, and idly wondered if they’d even paid any attention to the broadcast—not that it mattered too much. After all, they weren’t dragons, and were therefore under no obligation to follow the Noble Dragon Code. Discord, meanwhile, looked surprisingly content, especially considering how loudly he’d been complaining before the coronation began. “What are you so happy about?” he asked the draconequus suspiciously.

“Five,” Discord responded.

“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Discord ignored this question and idly cracked his knuckles. “Four.”

“Ugh...” Scootaloo moaned. “I’m feeling kind of stiff.”

The curls at the ends of the draconequus’ devilish smile became more pronounced. “Three.”

“Yeah, me too,” Apple Bloom said. “Hey... is it just me, or are you girls lookin’ kinda grey?”

“Two.” Discord sounded like he was barely managing to stifle a chuckle.

“Not just us,” Sweetie Belle said. “You too!” She tried to illustrate by pointing a hoof towards Apple Bloom. “Huh? I can’t move my legs!”

“Me neither!” Scootaloo said.

“One,” Discord continued, his voice now filled with unmistakable glee.

The Crusaders were clearly panicking now, even though they were barely moving anymore. “Spike,” Apple Bloom managed to force out of her rapidly stiffening mouth, “hel—”

“Zero,” Discord finished. “That went much better than I expected, actually.”

“What did you do to them?!” Spike shouted.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Discord asked, scratching his head in confusion. He looked at his handiwork again for a few seconds before a glowing lightbulb materialized over his head. “Ah! I know what the problem is.” He snapped his talons, and a polished granite plinth rose up beneath the three stone fillies. “There we go. Now it’s art.”

Spike still couldn’t quite comprehend what had just happened. “But... but why?”

Discord began pacing around the Crusaders as he answered, “Well, as I’ve said before, I’m somewhat indebted to these three for breaking me out of my stone prison the first time around, so I’ve decided to bestow a little gift on them.”

“Gift? But you were put in a statue as a punishment!”

“True, but as a magically reinforced statue, I was quite safe from harm during my imprisonment, and I really don’t want anything to happen these little darlings in the next few days. Besides, from what I understand, they’ve got quite a knack for causing chaos; I’m seriously considering taking them under my wing once everything’s settled down. In fact, I think they’d make for adorable little draconequui, don’t you?”

“Huh?” Spike asked, his face contorting in confusion. “The next few days? Settling down? Draconequui?”

Discord sighed. “Oh, for crying out loud, will you please just put two and two together already? I’m not even being particularly subtle about it.”

Spike, however, was still sputtering as he tried to process what was going on. “But... what... how...” Eventually he gave up his attempt to will an answer into his head and made a demand instead. “Discord, change them back right now!”

“Why should I?” Discord asked as he leaned against Sweetie Belle’s form.

“Because if you don’t, I’m going to tell Celestia what you’ve been up to.”

“Oh, no,” Discord replied in a high-pitched, melodramatic voice. “Spike is threatening to tattle on me. Whatever shall I do?”

Spike, however, was not in the mood to listen to sarcasm. He whipped out a blank notecard from his Noble Dragon Code, hastily scrawled a message onto it, took a deep breath, and exhaled a jet of green flame—at least, that was what was supposed to happen. “My fire!” the dragon called out. “Where’s my fire?!”

“I don’t know,” Discord replied as he casually inspected his claws. “Where was the last place you left it?”

“You did something, didn’t you?! My fire was just fine before the coronation. I know, because I sent Celestia a message then, too, right before you started handing out snacks...” Spike’s eyes widened. “The ice cream!”

Discord grinned maliciously. “Well, young Spike, it appears that you’ve learned a very important lesson today: You should never accept food from strangers, and there’s nobody who’s stranger than me. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he added as he began hovering above the floor, “the Equestrian countryside has been looking distressingly rational lately, and I need to spruce it up a bit. Ta-ta!” Discord then zipped out of an open window of the barn, leaving Spike absolutely dumbstruck.

Fortunately, he soon came to his senses. Turning towards the three statues, he said, “Uh, you three hang on, okay? I’m going to get some help.” With that, Spike flung open the barn door and ran as fast as he could towards the Apple farmhouse.

——————————

Granny Smith was hard at work developing a new recipe for the Zap Apples that were left over at the end of jam-making season (Zap Applesauce) when Spike burst into the kitchen, nearly knocking the door off of its hinges. As the baby dragon bent over, clutching his side as he gasped for breath, the old mare asked the obvious question: “Landsakes, sonny, what in tarnation’s got you up in a tizzy?”

“Fillies... statue... Discord... ice cream... fire... gone... help!”

“Say whut?”

“Ice cream fire gone help!” Spike repeated as loudly as he could. “Discord!”

Granny Smith looked at the baby dragon with no small amount of concern. If that creature taking up residence in the spare barn was involved in whatever had Spike in a panic, odds were good that there was a serious problem. However, panic rarely helped in solving problems, and she’d been around long enough to learn that particular lesson several dozen times over. “All right, sonny. Now, you just sit down, take some deep breaths, an’ tell me what’s goin’ on.”

Although all of his instincts were screaming that there wasn’t any time for such pointless activities as “calming down,” Spike nodded and complied with the old mare’s instructions. Soon, he was able to form complete sentences once again, and recounted what had just happened in the barn.

Considering that she had just learned that her granddaughter had been turned into solid rock, Granny Smith was surprisingly calm. “Hmm... that is a pickle, ain’t it? An’ you can’t tell the Princess about all this without that fire of yours?”

“No, and I have no idea how to get it back!” the dragon cried out in despair.

Granny Smith gave Spike her most comforting, matronly smile. “Well, I may not know a lot about dragons, but I doubt it’ll need to be much—just enough to get your pilot lit again, that’s all. Nuthin’ that can’t be solved with a well-stocked kitchen.” She brought a hoof to her chin as she considered the contents of her pantry. “Lemme see here... there is that old bottle of Atomic Fireball’s Quadruple Strength Cinnamon Extract. Been meanin’ ta finish that off for a while now. Still oughta be enough left in there to kick-start your breath.”

Spike didn’t seem convinced. “Is cinnamon really that spicy?”

The old green mare shook her head. “Not if it’s the regular kind, it ain’t. But Fireball’s Extract has a few... extra ingredients.” She pulled a small, nearly-empty bottle from her cupboard, uncorked it, and set it on the table in front of the baby dragon. “Bottoms up,” she said with a smile.

Spike swirled the reddish-brown liquid in the glass bottle a few times, sniffed it, and then, steeling his courage, quaffed the cinnamon extract in a single gulp.

Three seconds later, the Apple family’s kitchen table had been reduced to ash. “Wow...” Spike wheezed in an unusually raspy voice as dull grey smoke continued to seep out of the corners of his mouth. “That stuff’s effective.” He coughed again, igniting what was left of Granny Smith’s tablecloth. “Uh... I can pay for that. Maybe.”

“Never you mind about the table, sonny,” Granny Smith said. “After all, ain’t you got business to be attendin’ to?”

Spike’s eyes widened as he remembered why he’d burst into the kitchen in the first place. “Oh, right! Sorry to rush out on you, Granny Smith, but I need to send a letter!”

——————————

Pinkie’s afterparty was in full swing by the time Luna returned from raising the moon, and the Princess of the Night was pleasantly surprised at what she saw as she looked around the palace’s great hall. Her sneaking suspicion that Penumbra had been tagged to provide the decorations simply to give her work more exposure had turned out to be overly cynical; while it was true that the large sculptures of Princesses Twilight and Pinkie certainly demonstrated her artistic skill, the smaller clouds that emitted steady streams of light mist really seemed to enhance the atmosphere, though it did obscure the view of the recently-installed stained-glass window featuring the ascent of Twilight, Pinkie, and (as far as the average pony knew) Penumbra. Then again, given how much Penumbra disliked explaining why she’d declined to be crowned, this somewhat excessive mist may have been completely intentional on her part.

Surprisingly, many of the more traditionally-minded socialites and hobnobbers no longer seemed to mind the synthesized beats pounding out of the DJ’s speaker system. Of course, the rather large supply of hard cider and applejack from Sweet Apple Acres may have assisted in this acceptance as well, as evidenced by the fact that Rarity was the only pony sporting an uncomfortably fake smile in response to the near-constant glitter-bombings of haute couture fashion.

Luna didn’t have much trouble finding the hostess in the mist, as Princess Pinkie Pie was busy distributing a seemingly infinite supply of glowsticks—and considering that Pinkie might have decided to use her imaginary friend abilities to enhance this particular shindig, there was a reasonably good chance that her supply was infinite. To Luna’s surprise, the pink shapeshifter, unlike Twilight Sparkle and Penumbra, had yet to shed her nonfunctional wings and horn, though whether this was due to absent-mindedness or a really bizarre notion of propriety was unclear. At least it seemed that she’d gotten over her disappointment at having her initial idea to take the title of “Princess of Super Happy Fun Time” shot down. “Your party seems to be going well!” she shouted to Pinkie over the din of the music’s low, thundering bassline.

“Thanks!” Pinkie said with a grin. “Have a necklace!” she added, tossing a glowing plastic ring onto Luna’s horn.

“Er, thank you, Pinkie,” Luna replied as she pulled the party favor over her head before wandering off to find some other, equally uncomfortable ponies to talk to. It didn’t take very long.

“Greetings, Duchess,” Luna said as she found her former Nightmare sitting in a relatively quiet corner of the room, making small talk with Princess Cadance and Shining Armor.

Penumbra rolled her eyes. “I recognize your right to address me by my title, but that doesn’t make it any less annoying.”

Hearing Penumbra take this tone of voice with somepony she claimed as a friend seemed to cause a mild shock for the couple, especially Cadance, whose mouth was silently agape as she tried to process what she’d heard. Fortunately, the friendship between cloudsmith and royal was such that Luna was well aware of Penumbra’s tendency to exaggerate her own grumpiness. “When this many stiff-necked aristocrats are in the same room, one can never count on all of them being intoxicated enough to ignore propriety. But enough talk of mundane inconveniences. What are your plans once Pinkie moves into her new residence?”

“I’ll be moving in with her, of course. I am still under ‘house arrest’ for my previous attempts at regicide, after all. Where Pinkie’s head goes, so do I.”

“You know, I’ve been wondering about that,” Cadance said, regaining her ability to converse. “How exactly does that work?”

“It works quite well,” Penumbra replied before taking a sip of cider.

“Uh, I’m pretty sure that’s not what she meant,” Shining Armor replied awkwardly as he glanced at his wife, who seemed rather bemused by the Duchess’ attitude.

“Oh, I’m well aware of that, Captain,” Penumbra answered, “but it really is the best explanation I can give. Beings such as Pinkie and I don’t always have to follow the same rules as everypony else. I suppose you can say that it’s possible because I need it to be possible. There needs to be some way to reassure ponies who might find out about my past that I pose no threat to them, and giving Pinkie the ability to both house and, if necessary, imprison me in her mind accomplishes that quite nicely.”

“But how does needing something to be possible make it, well, possible?” Shining Armor asked as he scratched the side of his head.

Penumbra tilted her head indifferently. “I suppose,” she continued in a more hushed voice, “that this is what Pinkie Pie would call ‘an imaginary friend thing,’ though that term is somewhat ironic in this context.”

Shining Armor seemed ready to reply, but he was interrupted by one of his lieutenants, who handed him a hastily-scribbled note in what Luna recognized as Celestia’s script. The couple quickly excused themselves and walked off in the eldest Princess’ direction, leaving the two remaining ponies to continue the conversation.

Luna knew exactly why Penumbra had spoken of irony; the pegasus had never been both imaginary and her friend at the same time. Still, despite the fact that eavesdropping seemed almost impossible in the din of the party, Luna looked a bit concerned. “I’d be wary of talking about your past misdeeds so openly among Canterlot’s high society. They’re a bit more judgmental than most of your friends.”

Penumbra didn’t seem to find this convincing. “You talk about your past all the time.”

“That’s true, but most ponies put all the blame for my past on you.”

“Well, I say you’re being overly cautious. The chance that my past as the Nightmare will have any relevance tonight is almost negligible.”

Luna was about to respond, but she was distracted when the music suddenly cut out as Celestia climbed onto the stage. The tall, white alicorn looked every bit as regal and dignified as she had during the ceremony mere hours ago, but the glow of pride had faded from her face, which now bore an expression of grave concern as she raised a hoof to hush the few ponies who had continued conversing after the music had faded away.

“Fillies and gentlecolts,” Celestia began in a somber tone, “as delightful as Princess Pinkie’s gala has been, I must unfortunately bring it to an early close. A grave situation has arisen which will require the full attention of Princesses Twilight Sparkle and Pinkie Pie, as well as that of the other Element-Bearers.” The Sun Princess paused briefly to collect her thoughts before continuing: “The creature Discord, who until recently had been undergoing rehabilitation in Ponyville, has gone rogue.” An audible gasp came from Celestia’s audience, which conveniently masked the uncharacteristic crack in her voice which intruded on the final word of her sentence. “The Royal Guard has been called into active service, and they have begun setting up their defenses to protect the inhabitants of this city.”

Luna nodded somberly at her sister’s words; Celestia had always had a knack for giving her subjects just enough information to reassure them that she was on top of a crisis. Indeed, it was probably one of the main reasons she had been the more popular of the two in years past. Still, Celestia was far from the only pony with a personal interest in Discord’s actions. Luna glanced over at Penumbra, and saw that her mouth was still frozen in her customary neutral frown. Her eyes, however, were a different matter altogether; there was none of the usual steely aloofness present. Instead, there was a watery shimmer that suggested nothing less than crushing disappointment. Penumbra’s nostrils flared as she began taking unusually deep breaths, as if she was attempting to force herself to keep calm.

“However,” Celestia continued, “if the Bearers hurry, they should be able to use the Elements to keep the havoc to a minimum—”

“That particular ‘if’ may be significantly more onerous than you think,” interrupted a magically amplified voice that was instantly recognizable to the Ponyville residents in the room.

“Trixie?!” Twilight Sparkle called out in surprise.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie,” the disembodied voice angrily corrected.

“What is the meaning of this?” Luna spoke, using the Royal Canterlot Voice at full volume. “Show yourself.”

Luna’s demand was answered by a bluish-white ball of energy that came crashing through the stained-glass window of Twilight, Pinkie, and Penumbra before bursting like a firework, sending shards of glass and bits of rubble throughout the room and dispersing the partygoers. When the painfully bright glow had finally faded, the only ponies remaining were the Princesses, the Element-Bearers, and the Duchess of Everfree. These ponies had completely surrounded the Great and Powerful Trixie, who stood in the center of the hall where the ball of energy had collided with the floor, wearing her trademark cape—but not her pointed hat, oddly enough.

“Hey! We just had that window installed yesterday!” Pinkie Pie called out in irritation. “And Glass Menagerie spent weeks making it, too.”

The showmare, however, didn’t seem to be feeling any sympathy for the artist whose work she’d just destroyed. She ignored Pinkie completely and scanned her antagonists with a haughty gleam in her eyes—which, Twilight soon realized, still had that disturbing shade of blood-red that they’d aquired from the Alicorn Amulet, though they were no longer glowing. Trixie flipped a stray lock of her mane over her shoulder and announced, “The Great and Powerful Trixie is here to—”

“Hang on,” Rainbow Dash interrupted as she left the cluster of Element-Bearers and flew over to what remained of the stained-glass window. “This room’s like, two stories up. How did you walk through that hole?”

Trixie clearly did not appreciate this intrusion into her carefully scripted entrance. “Stagecraft,” she replied curtly as her mouth twisted into a scowl. She seemed quite ready to resume her statement, but another pony jumped in with a follow up question.

“What are you doing, Trixie?” Twilight asked, clearly unnerved by the dispassionate composure the showmare was displaying in the face of ten of the most powerful ponies in Equestria. “Is this some more insanity from the Alicorn Amulet?”

“Wait, the Alicorn Amulet is real?” Luna suddenly asked. “I thought Discord had fabricated the entire tale to fool my sister and I.”

“It was real,” Trixie answered coolly before transitioning her attention back to her nemesis, “until the Great and Powerful Trixie obliterated it, unlocking all of her magical potential in the process. She is now more than able to go hoof-to-hoof with you, ‘Princess’ Twilight.”

Twilight Sparkle groaned. “Trixie, now is not the time for you to be worrying about your bruised ego. Discord is—”

“Doing precisely what he told the Great and Powerful Trixie he would do, and she is returning the favor by ensuring that his efforts continue to be uninterrupted,” Trixie said with a sneer. “There is little point in forming an alliance only to back out of it immediately, particularly when one’s ally is an unstable abomination.”

“Why would anypony in their right mind form an alliance with Discord?” Rarity cried out with her customary melodramatic flair.

“Our interests are aligned,” Trixie answered as if she was speaking to a schoolfilly. “He wishes to ‘shake up’ the status quo, and helping the Great and Powerful Trixie overthrow the current political system will accomplish precisely that.”

Upon hearing this blatantly treasonous statement, most of the Element-Bearers and their friends seemed ready to pounce on Trixie right away, but Celestia held them back with a silent, knowing glance. It seemed that she wanted to give Trixie the chance to either realize the folly of her actions, or to dig herself so deep that there would be no question about whether the use of force was needed. “Why do you wish to rule Equestria?” she asked, eyeing the showmare warily.

“Because the Great and Powerful Trixie is objectively better than Twilight Sparkle, no matter what the magically illiterate chatterers say about her being the ‘highest-level unicorn.’”

Twilight, however, didn’t find this to be a very convincing reason to stage a coup. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to just challenge me to another magic duel?”

“Oh, no, you aren’t worming your way out of this one, Sparkle. Even if Trixie wins your proposed magic duel, the riffraff would just claim that you lost on purpose again, because those idiots in the press are all on your side. But after tonight, none shall deny the supremacy of the Great and Powerful Trixie!”

“Sounds like a mighty tall order, given that you’re dumb enough ta trust Discord,” Applejack said.

“Please,” Trixie responded as she rolled her eyes. “The Great and Powerful Trixie is well aware of her ally’s duplicity. However, this will only cement her renown as a diplomat and strategist once her deft handling of that chimeric monstrosity becomes common knowledge.”

Cadance suddenly let out a derisive laugh. “Ha! It seems to me your little plan’s got a big problem: Discord isn’t here, but all of the Elements are, and Celestia, and Luna. You really think you can take them all on by yourself?”

“Who are you?” Trixie asked in obvious confusion.

“I am Mi Amore Candenza, Princess of the North,” the pink alicorn said with an air of stern defiance that suggested that she, too, was no slouch when it came to magical combat.

At first, Trixie seemed to be visibly put off by this new interloper, but she pushed her concerns aside. “Well, Cadenza,” she replied with a dark chuckle, “The Great and Powerful Trixie won’t have to take on all of her opponents at once.”

“Why? You think we’re going to be polite and come at you one at a time?”

“No, Trixie thinks that most of you will be far too busy dealing with her other ally.”

“Other ally?” Rainbow Dash asked. “What other ally?”

As if on cue, the ground suddenly began vibrating as a series of heavy thuds began growing in volume. The Great and Powerful Trixie said nothing; she simply smirked triumphantly as a massive ethereal paw plunged through the hole in the wall and swiped, nearly hitting Rainbow Dash and demolishing a second stained-glass window. If the paw’s owner hadn’t been immediately obvious, all doubt would have been disintegrated by the screams that filtered into room: “Ursa Major!”

Twilight looked absolutely flabbergasted. “What— Why— How did you—”

“It seems that somepony was not paying attention when The Great and Powerful Trixie first graced Ponyville with her presence. Ursae have always been a specialty of mine.”

“I beg your pardon?!” Rarity shouted. “That Ursa Minor decimated you!”

“If you are simple-minded enough to assume that The Great and Powerful Trixie normally deals with Ursae without any advance notice in which to prepare herself, that is hardly her problem.”

Luna chose this moment to take matters into her own hooves. “The Ursa has obviously been provoked. I shall handle this—it is a being of stardust, which falls under my domain.” The Princess of the Night flew out of the gaping maw in the wall towards the massive star-bear, silently thanking Providence that it had focused its efforts on the grounds of the Royal Palace, rather than a more densely populated section of Canterlot.

“Hold, Great Bear!” Luna called as she flew to the Ursa Major’s eye level. “I am Luna, Princess of Equestria, and I ask you to reconsider—” Luna’s attempt at diplomacy was cut short when the Ursa brought its paw crashing down on her head, sending the Princess hurtling towards the large, paved courtyard beneath her. Luna had just enough time to realize she’d been too impulsive before the back of her head slammed into the cobblestones and she lost consciousness.

“It appears that her persuasive abilities are inferior to those of The Great and Powerful Trixie,” said Trixie said as she watched the Princess smash into the ground with much amusement. “But, as the saying goes, ‘Anything you can do, The Great and Powerful Trixie can do better.’”

“How ’bout you stick a cork in that hogwash?” Applejack shouted. “You lost before, and you’ll lose again.”

“Maybe, but not tonight,” Trixie said menacingly. “The time for pleasantries is over. Your subjects are panicking, Twilight Sparkle. What are you going to do?”

Twilight glanced nervously at Celestia, who seemed to be putting an immense amount of effort into maintaining the stoic expression on her face as she looked at the small crater that had formed around her sister. For her part, Celestia immediately decoded her erstwhile student’s unspoken question, and her answer was swift: “Battlefield tactics have never been my strong point, Twilight. I will defer to you on this.”

Twilight bit her lip as she briefly looked back towards Trixie, who seemed to be finding much entertainment in Twlight’s unease. Then, taking a deep breath, she made her decision. “If Cadance and Penumbra stay with you, can you keep Trixie occupied?”

Celestia nodded. “I shall do my best.”

“All right. C’mon, girls!” she called to the other Element-Bearers. “The Ursa Major is our top priority!” The six Elements of Harmony didn’t argue; and they all rushed out of the hall’s double doors to assist the citizens of Canterlot.

“Now, then,” said The Great and Powerful Trixie, “it’s—” The showmare was cut off when she received a buck to her right shoulder, sending her skidding into a table of uneaten party favors. Apparently, Princess Cadance was in no mood to listen to another smug monologue.

“You insolent twit!” Trixie shouted. “You’ll pay for that.” She used her aura to levitate several sharp pieces of cutlery from the table, but before she could do anything with them, she was tackled to the ground by an angry-looking midnight-blue blur.

“Newsflash, Trixie,” Penumbra said as she stared Trixie in the eye, her face hovering inches away from her supine opponent’s. “This is a fight, not a duel.” The pegasus waved a hoof, producing a small cloud which she jammed around Trixie’s head before taking off, lifting the unicorn to the ceiling and unceremoniously dropping her into a massive punch bowl.

Trixie’s red eyes were glowing once again by the time she rose to her hooves and removed the makeshift cloud blindfold. “Very well. If you intend to shun sophistication, The Great and Powerful Trixie shall do the same!” She then let loose a barrage of the most basic martial unicorn spell, sending dozens of bolts of unrefined magic towards her opponents. Cadance, however, responded with the very same spell, while Penumbra began adding bolts of lightning to Cadance’s bolts of magic. This, however, had mixed results, as Cadance had apparently never fought alongside a pony using advanced pegasus magic before, and ended up getting singed nearly half a dozen times. The fact that Trixie was focusing most of her efforts on Penumbra at the moment didn’t help, either—lightning bolts were hard enough to aim when one was stationary, but attempting to dodge magic attacks only compounded the difficulty. As a result, despite being outnumbered, The Great and Powerful Trixie was holding her own against her opponents, and furthermore, those opponents seemed to be tiring more quickly.

All this time, Celestia looked on, doing her best to conceal her anxiousness. She’d always hated fighting, mostly because she was so much more powerful than the average pony that she had to constantly make sure she held back enough to make sure she wouldn’t seriously injure her opponent. As a result, she’d gotten into the habit of attempting to use diplomacy until it was blatantly obvious that a massive display of force was necessary to bring about a swift resolution. To Celestia’s credit, this strategy was usually quite successful, as she was a very skilled diplomat. However, when Cadance landed badly after jumping out of the way of one of Trixie’s more powerful strikes, she crumpled to the ground, nursing a sprained hoof, and leaving Penumbra to face Trixie alone. It was then that Celestia decided that she was justified in taking direct action.

Celestia’s philosophy of battle was quite straightforward: fighting was bad, so when it had to be done, the least objectionable approach was to make sure it ended as soon as possible. Just as importantly, what little experience she had gained in her position as the default “last resort” of the Equestrian military had been enough to give her a good sense of how to hold back just enough of her power to keep from causing her opponent permanent injury. Celestia stepped towards Trixie with her horn already glowing as she charged up her attack. “This is your last chance, Trixie,” Celestia said in her most authoritative tone of voice. “Surrender now, and you will be shown mercy.”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie needs nopony’s mercy!” the unicorn shouted indignantly.

“So be it.” The spell Celestia had been charging was one she’d developed nearly six hundred years earlier, after a troubling incident when she’d accidentally crippled a young, foolish unicorn whose only crime had been to choose the wrong ponies as friends. This spell would not harm Trixie physically, though if she took the full force of the spell, she might find herself unable to use magic for several years. Cutting a unicorn off from her magic was not exactly a pleasant act to contemplate, but Trixie had not only made clear her intentions to take over Equestria and set an Ursa Major loose in Canterlot, but she was also getting in the way of dealing with Discord. With a mighty shout, Celestia let loose her spell... which hit a wall when Trixie teleported out of its path, right next to Celestia.

Celestia turned her head in time to see Trixie charging up a spell of her own, causing her aura to crackle menacingly around her horn. The blue unicorn smirked wickedly as she said, “Anything you can do, I can do better.” Before Celestia could respond, Trixie pressed her horn against the Princess’ barrel. Instantly, all the muscles in Celestia’s body stiffened, causing her to start shuddering as the stiffness intensified, and then somehow she was lying on the floor, becoming completely disoriented as her body was wracked with spasms. Oddly, though, Celestia didn’t feel any pain—discomfort, yes, but not pain. By the time it stopped, Trixie was breathing heavily. “You’re... still... conscious? That’s... insane....”

Celestia responded with a groan. Her body may not have been in much pain, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so tired.

“Oh well,” Trixie continued, finally catching her breath. “Fortunately—” Trixie stopped abruptly as a jagged bolt of lightning hurled towards her... and was suddenly stopped by a translucent blue shield.

“What?!” Penumbra cried aloud from her perch on a small cloud. Apparently, she’d been hoping to use the lull in the combat to hit Trixie with a perfectly-aimed strike. “Why didn’t you do that before?”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie didn’t know that you were uncouth enough to interrupt her before,” came the rather droll answer. She took a few seconds to strengthen the shield in case Penumbra tried to use something stronger before returning her attention to Celestia, who still seemed dazed. “Now, where was she? Oh, yes. Fortunately, The Great and Powerful Trixie has a ‘Plan B.’”

Trixie then walked in front of her opponent, looked her in the eye, and began to cast a lullaby spell. Thirty seconds later, Princess Celestia was out cold.

Author's Note

If your initial reaction to Trixie's victory was "There's no way that could possibly happen," don't worry: that's precisely the reaction I was hoping for. Figuring out how Trixie actually won is one of the most important tasks our heroines face in the forthcoming chapters.

Chapter 4: Thin the Herd

This had gone far enough. Even if Luna had initially relished the extra peace and quiet, by the time she’d gotten caught up with her studies, her sister’s newfound solemnity had begun to grate on her nerves. Thus, Luna had decided to confront Celestia on the matter.

Celestia, unfortunately, didn’t seem willing to acknowledge her concerns. “I cannot see why thou wouldst harbor misgivings towards any additional reflectiveness on my part, Sister. Hast thou not often insisted that self-evaluation is important for efficient mental improvement?”

Luna sighed at her sister’s obstinacy. “I merely wish to point out, dearest Celestia, that ever since the defeat of Sombra, thy countenance has been much subdued. I had thought ’twas my function to avoid smiling at all costs. Indeed, I would have thee return that role to me, as I find it rather draining to be the ‘joyful’ one. Besides, art thou not the Element of Laughter?”

It was this question that at last stirred Celestia from her spot on the balcony overlooking the Canterlot market. “Dost thou believe me to be depressed?”

“Nay,” Luna said, “but thou art surely not as vivacious as in times past. Why, thou hast not suggested that we amuse ourselves with Quigley for three months.”

Celestia wrinkled her eyebrows in puzzlement. “Quigley? Who is this ‘Quigley’ thou speakest of?”

Luna was taken aback by this question. She stared quizzically at her sister as she replied, “Thou art jesting; thou couldst not simply forget the hours we spent with him in fantastical adventures. Nor couldst thou be ignorant of the time thou spent creating our draconequus friend.”

“Draconequus?”

“A shapeshifting creature of thine own design!” Luna exclaimed. “Celestia, I am now truly beginning to worry that something has happened to thy mind. Dost thou remember nothing of his disregard for rules? His distinctive voice? His seemingly exhaustive knowledge of the myriad uses of eggnog?”

Celestia blinked repeatedly as her memories sparked back to life. “Oh... of course. Our imaginary friend. Yes, it has been a while, has it not?”

Luna let out a sigh of relief. “It seems that this potential crisis is not as severe as I had feared.”

“That is most certainly true, and yet the surrounding circumstances are most odd,” Celestia said. “How could I have forgotten about Quigley?”

“Oh, that’s simple: You didn’t think about me because I wasn’t inside your head anymore.” The sudden intrusion of a broad, somewhat nasal tenor into the conversation took both sisters by surprise; they whirled around to see a tall creature with a twisting, snakelike body, an odd assortment of limbs and horns, and a rakish grin on his equine head. The creature chuckled softly. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for a suitably dramatic moment to show myself, but the looks on your faces...” The creature’s sentence gave way to a delighted cackle. “Oh, that was worth the wait.”

It was then that Celestia finally managed to shake off her bewilderment and address the newcomer: “Quigley?!”

——————————

If there was one thing that Twilight Sparkle didn’t like, it was not having a clue what was going on. “None of this makes any sense!” she shouted as she paced around the partially demolished great hall. “Not the Ursa, not Discord, and especially not Trixie! It shouldn’t be possible, which means it couldn’t have happened, but it did happen, which means there must be an explanation, but there isn’t an explanation, because it shouldn’t be possible!”

Her friends were scattered around the room, watching her anxiously. So far, they’d been quiet and watched as Twilight “reasoned” herself in circles for nearly five minutes, mostly because they wanted to avoid setting her off. Eventually, it was Pinkie Pie who broke into Twilight’s fruitless monologuing. “Okay, Twilight, I know you’re upset, but I don’t really think that being all panicky will help us figure out what to do next.”

Twilight did not respond to this as well as Pinkie had hoped. “Upset?! Pinkie, Trixie just defeated Celestia and Luna in a matter of minutes, and now they’ve both disappeared, and there’s no logical explanation for that, either!”

Penumbra sighed. “As I’ve already explained, Twilight, Trixie used a spell that created an extremely bright light and loud noise, most likely adapted from her repertoire of stagecraft and fireworks magic. The shock to the senses was enough to disorient both Princess Cadance and me for at least thirty seconds, and possibly longer. When the light and noise faded away, neither Celestia nor Luna was present. The most likely explanation is that Trixie used the momentary distraction to take them captive and spirit them away.”

“Like I said,” Twilight resumed with a glare, “there is no logical explanation for the princess’ disappearance.”

Penumbra’s voice remained neutral as she said, “Well, if it’s any consolation, I got the impression that Trixie would have agreed with you.”

This, finally, managed to pull Twilight out of her feedback loop. “Excuse me?”

“Trixie looked absolutely stunned when Celestia went down; she just stood there for a few seconds, as if she had no idea what to do next. Unfortunately, I wasted my free shot; otherwise, you could have asked her yourself when she recovered from the lightning.”

“You only got one lightning bolt off?” Rainbow Dash asked skeptically.

“I supposed I could have used a large scattering of smaller bolts, but I didn’t want to hit Celestia,” Penumbra replied. “In any case, that was enough to shock her out of her stupor and initiate her getaway plan—assuming, of course, that she had actually planned it.”

Twilight Sparkle still looked stunned, but apparently, this new information was enough to restart her cognitive abilities. When she resumed her pacing, most of the panic had left her voice. “Okay, so there might actually be a logical reason for this mess that doesn’t involve Trixie spontaneously developing into the world’s most devious chessmaster, but still, how could she have pulled this off? I mean, I might have been able to accept that Trixie just got really lucky, if it wasn’t for the way that Ursa was taking orders from her.”

“Actually, I was wondering about that myself,” Cadance said. “How did you manage to handle the Ursa Major?”

Twilight sighed. “Well, after the initial attempt at an ill-advised direct approach—”

“I still say it could have worked if you’d all been trying,” Rainbow Dash interjected grumpily as she massaged a large bump on her head.

“—Fluttershy managed to calm the Ursa down and find out what was going on.”

“Let me guess,” Penumbra said. “Momma was angry over something that happened to her cub.”

“Actually, that was a male Ursa,” Fluttershy replied. “They aren’t particularly concerned about their offspring.”

“Okay, fine,” Penumbra said. “So why was Mr. Ursa teaming up with Trixie?”

“Um, well, he didn’t know.”

“He had amnesia?” Cadance asked.

“No, I mean that he hadn’t really thought about why he was taking orders from Trixie until I brought it up. Apparently, she just marched into his cave and... um... intimidated him.”

Penumbra’s face showed her typical expression of stony skepticism. “Are you seriously claiming that Trixie bullied an Ursa Major into doing what she wanted?”

Fluttershy nervously dragged a hoof across the floor before answering. “Well, that’s what Mr. Ursa said, and I can’t think of a reason why he would claim that he’d been intimidated by a pony if it wasn’t true.”

“Ooh!” Pinkie shouted. “Do you think maybe Trixie managed to learn how to do The Stare?”

“Uh, well, I suppose that’s possible,” Fluttershy said, “but I don’t really know how I do it myself, and I haven’t met anypony else who can. How could she learn it?”

“I think y’all are forgettin’ somethin’ important here,” Applejack replied. “An’ that somethin’s name is Discord. For all we know, he’s the one who got the Ursa involved.”

“Those are definitely plausible theories,” Twilight said, now firmly back in her accustomed role as a relatively dispassionate analyst. “But they aren’t without their own weaknesses. For one thing—”

Twilight Sparkle did not have the luxury of completing that thought, however, because at that moment Shining Armor burst into the room, still in the dress uniform he’d been wearing all evening. “Your Majesties! We have a problem.”

It took Twilight a second or two to process the fact that her brother had addressed her using the formal style before she could come up with a response. “Yes, Shining, we’re trying to figure out what happened to Celestia and Luna right now.”

Apparently, Shining Armor had been unaware that anything had happened his employers. “Were they injured?”

“We don’t know for certain,” Twilight replied. “Penumbra and Cadance didn’t really get a chance to look at their conditions before Trixie took them away.”

Shining Armor’s eyes widened. “What?! They’ve been captured?!” His eyes darted around the room, looking for evidence of the royal sisters to prove his statement wrong.

Sadly, that evidence was not to be. “It looks that way,” Twilight said. “That’s not what you’re here about?”

“No! It’s about the armories,” Shining Armor continued, clearly shaken up by the new revelation, but pressing on with his duty. “They’ve been completely emptied!”

“What?” Cadance asked. “How many of them?”

“Every single one in Canterlot,” her husband replied. “Right now, the Royal Guard has no armor or weapons, except for the dozen or so ponies who were on guard duty when the Ursa attacked, and a few who own their own weapons. All the rest of us have is our innate unicorn, pegasus, or earth pony magic.”

“Something tells me that we have just discovered the intended goal of Trixie’s venture,” Rarity said. “It was probably a distraction—essentially a large-scale piece of stagecraft.”

“Well, regardless of why it happened, the fact remains that mobilizing a military response to Discord—and I suppose we’d better add Trixie to the list of threats—is going to be a lot more complicated than expected,” Shining Armor said. The Captain of the Royal Guard seemed ready to take on as much blame for the mess as possible. “Damn it, Celestia even told me to draw up contingency plans for something like this.”

“Now isn’t the time to worry about prevention, dear,” Cadance told her husband. She turned to Twilight Sparkle and Pinkie Pie. “Your Majesties, as Equestria’s ranking princesses, it falls on you to decide what to do next.”

“Um, excuse me,” Fluttershy said meekly. “Why only Twilight and Pinkie? Aren’t you a princess, too?”

“Our titles may be the same, but I don’t have the same level of political authority. I only rule over the autonomous Crystal Mountain province; that’s why I’m called the Princess of the North.”

This explanation didn’t seem convincing to Rainbow Dash. “Uh, no offense, but why would the Crystal Mountains need their own princess? Hardly anypony lives there.”

Cadance sighed. “It wasn’t always like that,” she said in voice so distant and forlorn that it completely snuffed out that particular topic.

“Well,” Penumbra said in an effort to break up the resulting silence, “it seems to me that finding and returning Celestia and Luna should be one of our top priorities, and as it happens, I have an idea on to do that.”

“Let’s hear it,” Twilight said.

“Locating them should not prove too much trouble, since I use lightning to correspond with Luna.” Penumbra located some paper, dashed off a quick note, and zapped it with electricity, causing the paper to streak out of the great hall in jagged bolt.

“Wow, that’s really neat,” Pinkie Pie said, “but do you really think that Luna will be able to respond to you, though?”

“Probably not,” Penumbra admitted, “but she doesn’t have to. Based on the direction that bolt was traveling, I know that she’s currently somewhere south of here, which is enough for me to begin my search. I am assuming, of course, that finding Luna will make the task of finding Celestia a relatively simple matter.”

“But what if they’re being guarded?” Fluttershy asked. “Won’t it be dangerous for you to try to free them if you’re all by yourself?”

“Oh, it most certainly would be. Luckily for me, Luna made sure that I would never have to worry about doing anything by myself.”

Fluttershy looked confused. “I don’t understand,” she said, and from the looks on everypony else’s faces, she wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

“Do you remember why Pinkie Pie is able to treat the normal rules of logic as though they were optional?”

“Ooh! I know! I know! It’s because Twilight gave me that ability when she created Surprise,” Pinkie answered. “She thought it made me more fun and interesting.”

“That is correct. Twilight wanted a friend who didn’t necessarily have to follow all the rules of the real world, and here you are. However, Luna did not create me to be an imaginary friend. I began my existence as a paranoid contingency plan.”

“That’s true,” Twilight said, “but you don’t have all the powers of a rogue version of Celestia anymore; you’re restricted to pegasus magic.”

“Ah, but you’re forgetting that Luna thought that her sister had acquired a new ability when Discord appeared: one that was completely unrelated to normal alicorn magic.”

Pinkie Pie gasped. “That’s right! Luna thought Celestia might be able to create more real-life imaginary friends. And she created you because she thought Celestia might be able to use that ability to take over....” The pink pony trailed off for a second, only to come back in full force as the realization hit her. “You can create golems!”

“Huh? Gollum?” Rainbow Dash said as she scratched her head.

“Golems,” Penumbra corrected. “Autonomous puppets created from nothing, though I prefer to use cloud as a sort of glue to provide extra stability. With them, there is no reason for me to find myself outnumbered by any opposing force.”

“Uh, no offense, Penny, but that sounds a little far-fetched to me,” Rainbow Dash said.

“First of all, don’t call me Penny. Secondly, you of all ponies should have no trouble believing me, since you’re the only one here who’s seen me do it before.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

Penumbra smirked knowingly before saying, “Perhaps a demonstration is in order.” She rose from the ground and hovered in the middle of the hall with a look of extreme concentration on on her face. She closed her eyes, slowing down her wingbeats while increasing the power of their upward force. As she did so, she seemed to draw every cloud in the night sky inside the room, merging them into an amorphous blob of vapor. Minutes later, the clouds began to congeal and settle onto the floor where they slowly shifted into pony-shaped forms, eventually solidifying into a half-dozen bluish-grey pegasi with blue manes and purple-and-black jumpsuits. Penumbra smiled as she viewed her work. Turning to her friends, she waved a hoof dramatically and said, “Allow me to reintroduce the Shadowbolts!”

Applejack let out a low whistle. “Mighty impressive.”

“Wow... are they for real?” Pinkie said, moving one of her hooves towards a nearby stallion.

“Don’t touch me,” the stallion said tersely in what sounded like a masculine version of Penumbra’s voice before returning to standing at attention. Pinkie obligingly retracted her hoof and scurried to the opposite side of the room.

“As you can see,” Penumbra explained, “my Shadowbolts are capable of independent action and communication, though in the end, they are still golems, and I am quite capable of fully controlling all of them at once. I should think that the martial applications of this talent are obvious.”

“Yeah, they are,” Rainbow Dash said brusquely. “So, why didn’t you create a bunch when you were fighting Trixie?”

Penumbra let out a noise that sounded like mix of a groan and a sigh. “As I’ve just demonstrated, actually creating them requires quite a bit of time and concentration, and I rather doubt Trixie would have been polite enough to wait for me to finish. Besides, who immediately tries to use their most powerful abilities when they can’t be sure of what’s actually happening? Surely you didn’t react to the Ursa Major by performing a Sonic Rainboom.”

There was an awkward silence for a few seconds as everypony stared at Rainbow Dash, who eventually managed to squeak out, “It could have worked...”

Penumbra sighed. “In any case, I think that it is best if I begin my search for Celestia and Luna immediately. Do you agree?” she asked Twilight and Pinkie.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” Twilight said.

“Then, I shall take my leave. My Shadowbolts will serve as couriers for progress reports.” After her friends wished her good luck, Penumbra and the Shadowbolts flew out of the gaping hole in the wall and into the night sky.

“Okay,” Twilight said, “while Penumbra looks for Celestia and Luna, we need to figure out just what happened to Trixie. Therefore, I think we should all head to the Royal Library—”

“Hang on there, Sugarcube,” Applejack said. “Ain’t you forgettin’ something?”

Twilight wrinkled her brow as she said, “I’m not sure what you mean, Applejack.”

“We can’t just shut everything down while we’re lookin’ for answers.”

“She’s right,” Cadance said. “You and Pinkie have to be seen serving the public, or they might lose faith in you.”

“Actually,” Applejack said, “I’m thinkin’ in more practical terms. No matter what happens, the sun and moon still gotta rise and set, and seein’ as how Twilight’s the most powerful unicorn ever, she should probably be the one to handle that.”

“But...” Twilight said as mild panic began creeping back into her voice, “I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“But darling,” Rarity said, “surely you asked Celestia how she did it during your years as her student.”

“Well, yes, but she only went over the theory behind the spells, and a few demonstrations. I’ve never had any practice at it.”

“Maybe not, but if anypony can pull it off without any practice, it’s you,” Rarity said confidently.

“That’s right,” Applejack agreed, “and given what Spike’s note said about our sisters, you know me and Rarity wouldn’t tell you that if we didn’t think it was the best way to handle it.”

“I still wish I could think of a way to help them now...”

“Yes,” Rarity said with a sympathetic nod, “and as we told you before, we believe that taking care of this crisis takes priority over our personal worries.”

“That, an’ solvin’ the first problem will more than likely take care of the second,” Applejack added.

Twilight let out a deep breath. “All right,” she said, “I’ll handle the sky. Shining Armor, you try to find a way to get the Royal Guard back in action, and Cadance can help keep the public calm. But the rest of you should still start figuring out what happened to Trixie. Once we’ve figured out how to deal with her, we’ll be able to figure out our next step. I’m sure you can handle it.”

“You bet we can,” Rainbow Dash said confidently. “After all we’ve still got one super-genius to help us out. You up for this, Pinkie?”

Pinkie Pie chewed her bottom lip for a second or two before answering. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

“Oh, come on, don’t sell yourself short. I know that you don’t usually do the whole book-smart thing, but you should be able to handle this, right?”

“It’s not about being confident,” Pinkie Pie replied. “It’s about keeping Equestria safe. In case you forgot, on top of everything Trixie’s done, we still need to deal with Discord.”

“Pinkie,” Rarity said, “are you suggesting that we use the Elements on him now?”

“No, I’m not,” the pink princess said with a shake of her mane. “If we do that, Canterlot will be left open to whatever else Trixie has in store. I’m just saying that somepony needs to limit the damage he does until we know enough about what’s going on to come up with a real plan, and, well, I’m the only pony here who can do that.”

“Pinkie,” Twilight said, “are you planning to use your imaginary friend magic against him?”

Pinkie nodded slowly in response.

Applejack looked concerned. “But Pinkie Pie... didn’t you say that that’s probably what he wants?”

“Yeah... and it wouldn’t surprise me if that turned out to be one of the reasons he joined up with Trixie in the first place. But I’m a princess now, and if giving Discord what he wants for a little while will do the most good in the end, then I’ll do it.” Pinkie Pie’s eyes turned unusually steely as she continued: “I’ll do whatever I have to to keep my little ponies safe. Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.”

——————————

Great and Powerful though she was, Trixie was nevertheless breathing heavily as she teleported into her throne room. After meeting up with the Diamond Dogs to apply the most powerful sleeping spells she could think of to the princesses, she’d separated from them so they could deliver the two to her headquarters while she made sure that they wouldn’t be followed. After using some unusually powerful stagecraft spells to cloak her minions, the Great and Powerful Trixie spent the better part of an hour zipping all around the network of caves beneath Equestria, erecting magical barriers to thwart any pursuers at each stop. She couldn’t remember the last time her teleportation skills had been tested to this degree—in fact, should couldn’t quite remember having done much teleporting at all before tonight, but she didn’t have time to dwell on such minor details. After all, she needed to restrain her captives before they could awaken.

This, of course, was a fairly simple matter. After all, she’d already used a very effective force field to keep Twilight out of Ponyville; it probably would have worked if she hadn’t forgotten to make a plane on the ground, resulting in an imperfect five-sided cube. The Great and Powerful Trixie wouldn’t make that mistake again. Soon enough, Celestia and Luna were encased in a six-sided translucent box with a volume of precisely eight cubic trots. She was quite confident that this would hold the pair, as she’d based the spell on the one that had been used to protect Canterlot during the Changeling incident. True, the Changelings had managed to break that force field, but The Great and Powerful Trixie was fairly certain that this had been a direct result of its spherical shape, and she’d already fixed that problem.

With her captives secure, The Great and Powerful Trixie finally had the luxury of attempting to figure out how she’d actually managed to defeat two of the most powerful ponies in Equestria in a matter of minutes and actually escape from Canterlot completely unscathed, aside from a small bruise from where that pegasus had smashed her into a punch bowl.

This had not been part of the plan. The plan had been to incapacitate the Royal Guard until Discord had so overwhelmed the countryside that the ponies of Equestria started demanding that their princesses begin negotiation—and to be fair, the Diamond Dogs had done an exceptional job of clearing out the armories. It had been planned out perfectly—but defeating the princesses had not been part of the plan. Capturing the princesses had not been part of the plan. The Great and Powerful Trixie had failed—completely and utterly failed.

No, that wasn’t true. She’d accomplished all her objectives, hadn’t she?

You deviated from the plan.

But why should it matter? She’d done all she’d intended to do, hadn’t she? In fact, with Celestia and Luna as hostages, she could very well be in an even more advantageous position than she could have hoped for.

The plan was perfect. If it was advantageous to capture the princesses, you would have planned to capture the princesses.

But the Great and Powerful Trixie would have planned it if she had known that it was feasible. The plan must have been based on faulty information.

If the information was flawed, the plan would have been imperfect, and the plan was perfect! You should never have had the opportunity to take anypony of value hostage, which means that something unpredictable happened, and unpredictable things are always bad.

But that couldn’t be true. Discord’s unpredictability was a key part of the overall strategy.

Yes... perhaps that explains it. No doubt that blasted draconequus had something to do with this. Joining forces with him was a mistake, and it will have to be rectified as soon as possible.

The Great and Powerful Trixie shook her head vigorously. Why was she wasting time dwelling on why her planning had failed to anticipate reality? The simplest, and therefore most likely explanation was that she had simply underestimated her own Greatness and Power. Such introspection could wait until later; in the meantime, she needed to figure out how best to adjust her plans to accommodate the most fortunate windfall of two valuable bargaining chips.

The unicorn glanced over to where the alicorns were sleeping soundlessly. There was no time to dither: the next act of her performance could begin at any moment, and she needed to be prepared.

——————————

Freed from the necessity of behaving in a logical, coherent manner, Pinkie Pie was able to gallop to Ponyville in record time by simply skipping past all the sections where nopony was around to hear her hoofbeats pound against the ground in a suitably dramatic fashion. Those of her subjects who did witness her travel noted that her hooves sounded unusually heavy, especially since Pinkie had shifted back to her standard “earth pony” form, which certainly didn’t look like it had enough mass to generate the force needed to cause minor tremors in the ground.

Upon her arrival, it didn’t take very long for Pinkie to find Discord, mostly because he’d somehow managed to pave a road of yellow (and eggnog-flavored) bricks behind him as he meandered away from Sweet Apple Acres (the fact that an unknown light source had made the entire area as bright as daytime helped, too). She eventually found the draconequus inside an emerald racquetball court, wearing a teal polo shirt and playing a game with a chinchilla. This, in itself, wouldn’t have been so bad, were in not for the fact that the chinchilla was Discord’s ball, rather than his opponent.

Wasting no time, Pinkie pulled an oversized pencil out of her tangled, curly mane, flipped it around, and promptly erased one of the walls of the court, causing Discord to serve the chinchilla into the relative safety of a nearby grove of trees.

Not surprisingly, he wasn’t pleased with this intrusion. “Hey! I was using that!”

“Yeah, and you were being a big fat meanypants.”

“Yes, and if you hadn’t destroyed my racquetball court, I might have been able get rid of some of that fat, Pinkie Pie. Wait... Pinkie Pie?!” Apparently, Discord had only just realized whom he was talking to. His gaze traveled back and forth between pony and pencil for a few seconds as a broad smile oozed onto his face. “Why, Pinkie Pie, my dear, have you finally decided to cut loose from those silly arbitrary rules of yours and have some real fun for once?”

“Turning innocent fillies into statues, using chinchillas as racquetballs, and turning mountains into mashed potatoes aren’t my idea of fun.”

“Ooh! Mashed potato mountains—I like that one. Mind if I use it?”

“Yes!”

“C’mon, I’ll give you credit!”

“No! I only said it because I thought one of the mountains in the distance looked like mashed potatoes!”

“Oh, good, then you already thought it was my idea. Well, since there’s no intellectual property issues, then, I might as well go through with it.” Discord snapped his talons, causing the range of mountains in the distance to become noticeably off-white and lumpy. “There we go. So, what shall we do next?”

Pinkie stamped her hoof into the ground, causing the rest of Discord’s racquetball court to shatter.

“You know,” Discord mused as he appraised the pink pony princess, “I’m beginning to think that you might be a bit miffed about something.”

“Of course I am! After all the trouble Penny went to to help you reform—”

“Hmph! Don’t make me laugh, because I already know there was no way Penumbra was going to. One of those ‘innocent fillies’ you were talking about already let slip that I never had a chance to win her ‘game.’ All that talk of being fair, and she was holding back her laughter the whole time!”

Pinkie sighed; she had actually been hoping that all the time spent with Penumbra would have forged some sort of emotional connection she could use, but now it seemed like the entire plan had turned out to be a dud. There was nothing left to do but leave the whole mess behind. “Discord, I’m giving you one chance to surrender or I’ll—”

“You’ll what? Throw a party at me? Face it, Pinkie Pie, you don’t have what it takes to be malicious.”

“That’s Princess Pinkie Pie to you!”

“Ugh, less than a day and you’re already acting self-important. You’re worse than Celestia.”

Pinkie, however, was in no mood to be goaded by insults. She stamped her forehoof against that ground and shouted, “Conversation over! Fighting now!”

Discord sighed wearily and rolled his eyes. “If you insist. En garde!”

The two of them did nothing at first; they simply stared each other down, looking for any sign of weakness. Then, the two nigh-omnipotent beings charged towards each other simultaneously, each letting out a fearsome shout as they clashed, signaling the beginning of an epic confrontation that would change the course of Equestrian history.

“Ugh!”

“Stop it!”

“No, you stop it!”

“You big meanie!”

Pinkie and Discord flailed their limbs wildly, hoping that a few of their strikes would connect with their opponent’s face, which wasn’t easy, as both of them had turned their heads away from from the fight in order minimize the chances of getting hit with a wayward slap. In fact, both of them had their eyes squeezed as tightly as possible in order to protect them from anything pokey that might come in their direction, which was probably why neither one seemed to notice that they were really only close enough to nick each other’s appendages.

“You suck!”

“No, you suck!”

“I hate you!”

“I hate you more!”

“Well, I hated you first!”

“Nuh-uh!”

It was very fortunate that there were no bystanders to see this battle of wills, as those bystanders probably would have tired of the high-pitched whining rather quickly, which would have made the next five minutes or so almost unbearable. Mercifully, this came to an end when Discord turned his head to get a look at what was going on and earned a smack on the muzzle for his trouble.

“Ouch!”

Pinkie Pie smiled as Discord withdrew his arms to clutch his nose. “Give up?”

“Oh, please. I was only going along with the slap-fight because it was amusing, and you know it.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t just give up, though.”

Discord grinned evilly. “And miss the chance to see you really let loose? I don’t think so.” He snapped his talons again, and the chinchilla emerged into the open once again. However, it no longer looked like an adorable fuzzy pseudo-racquetball, but rather an absurdly muscular monstrosity that was nearly as tall as Pinkie Pie. As the bizarre rodent began walking towards Pinkie with a menacing gleam in its eye, it was joined by other transformed creatures: mice, rabbits, chipmunks and squirrels, all looking like overzealous bodybuilders with an axe to grind against a certain pink pony princess.

That pink pony princess, however, didn’t seem particularly fazed; she simply rolled her eyes as her would-be assailants closed in. Pinkie Pie yawned as she pulled a needle out of her mane and poked each of her attackers as soon as they came within hoof’s reach, causing them to deflate back to their normal sizes. When the final bunny had been de-bulked, Pinkie looked at Discord with an expression that was equal parts boredom and frustration. “Is that all you’ve got?”

“I have not yet begun to fight!” Discord shouted as a steaming pan of some unknown pastry appeared in his paw, which he chucked directly at Pinkie Pie’s head causing flaky crust and bits of orange-yellow fruit to splatter across her coat and mane.

Undeterred, Pinkie Pie slurped the fruity residue off of her face, and after a few seconds, gave her appraisal. “I have to admit, that’s not a bad peach cobbler. Do you use lemon juice in your recipe?”

Apparently, Discord was in no mood to discuss the finer points of cobblery, as his mouth twisted into a sneer and he started chucking pan after pan of the dessert at his opponent. Pinkie, however, took this all in stride—after all, she already knew of an adequate defense against culinary assault. She simply unhinged her jaw, opened her mouth as wide as possible, and swallowed all of the incoming foodstuffs whole, pans and all.

“Mmm... I’ve gotta admit, the parasprite method is really effective, especially when you can digest metal baking pans. Still, would you mind including some whipped cream next time?”

“Grrr... throw something back at me already! I thought you wanted a food fight at that party of yours.”

“I did, until you mentioned that you thought it was a good idea.”

“My affinity for an idea doesn’t necessarily make it bad. For example, I like gravity well enough, but if that means you’re against it...”

Pinkie suddenly noticed that there didn’t seem to be anything underneath her hooves. She looked down and saw the ground... then the sky... then the ground... then the sky. After a lot of flailing about she finally managed to counteract her momentum enough to return herself to a roughly upright position. “Are you finished?” she asked indignantly.

“Goodness, no!” Discord said as his chinchilla “friend” floated by. “Say, are you up for a game of racquetball?”

“No!”

“How about squash, then? C’mon, you should hear the sounds this little guy makes when he gets slammed against a wall.” Discord looked expectantly at Pinkie Pie, clearly believing that his blatant disregard for physics, combined with an equally blatant disregard for animal cruelty regulations, would finally get her to do something worthy of the massive amount of power at her disposal.

Instead, Pinkie calmly pulled a scroll from her mane, unwound it, and read aloud, “I, Pinkamena Diane Pie, Princess of Equestria, do hereby reinstate the law of gravity.” She and Discord flopped to the ground with audible thuds. This time, however, Pinkie nabbed the chinchilla and used her imaginary friend magic to teleport it to a little pet shop in Manehattan.

“Ugh! Why won’t you fight back?!” Discord shouted as Pinkie stuffed the scroll back into her mane.

“Probably because you haven’t given me a reason to,” Pinkie Pie said nonchalantly. In retrospect, this probably wasn’t the most prescient answer that she could have provided.

Discord’s eyes lit up as he came to a sudden realization. “Oh, that’s right. You don’t like to use your imaginary friend power at all unless you have a ‘good reason,’ don’t you? I keep forgetting that you’ve turned into a goody-four-shoes royal twit.”

“Using imaginary friend magic makes life difficult for others if you’re not careful. Maybe if you’d actually tried to reform, you’d learn that selfishness isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

Discord smirked. “Is that so? Well, then, what say we find some ‘volunteers’ to see how selflessness works out for you?” The draconequus didn’t wait for Pinkie Pie’s answer—instead, he bolted off as fast as he could towards Ponyville.

Pinkie wasn’t sure what her opponent was up to, but she had no intention of waiting to find out: she was on Discord’s tail in less than a minute, which turned out to be a tactical mistake, as Discord snapped his tail like a whip, sending Pinkie flying into the distance. “That’s what you get for grabbing body parts without permission!” he called out before he continued his journey into town.

Pinkie reached Ponyville just in time to hear the screams starting. It didn’t take long for her to realize why: the moment she put her weight onto the grass in the town square, it sucked her in and formed a seal around her as it pulled her downwards, much like quicksand—and a quick glance around revealed that she wasn’t the first pony to fall into this trap; several bystanders, including the Mayor and Pinkie’s mailmare, had sunken into the ground, with a few of them at neck level. Thinking quickly, Pinkie Pie reached into her mane once again with her free hoof and pulled out a sack of quick-drying cement, tearing it open with her teeth and pouring the contents into the ground. This had the desired effect of preventing any further sinking, but it didn’t exactly help extract anypony from the ground.

Pinkie used the extra strength that came with alicorn-level earth pony magic to pull herself out and shake off some of the dust before looking around. “Um, I’m sorry, everypony, but I can’t really stick around to chip you all out while Discord’s on the loose. Did anypony see where he went?”

“He mumbled something about the desert,” said the Mayor, who was trying (unsuccessfully) to extract her hooves from where they were rooted to the ground. “I’d guess the Appleloosa region would be a good place to start looking.”

“Thanks!” Pinkie said. “You totally have my endorsement in the next election. Don’t worry, everything will be alright!” she called out as she galloped southwards.

Discord was nowhere to be found when Pinkie arrived in Appleloosa, either, though it was even easier to figure out how he’d decided to make life miserable for the locals—she was willing to bet that none of them were happy that their desert home was covered in enough snow to bury Celestia up to her horn. Still, the pink pony was undeterred: as she’d had fairly good luck with her “pulling stuff out of my mane” strategy so far, Pinkie saw no reason to change tactics here. This time, she pulled out a hair dryer, turned the setting up to “volcano,” and within seconds, the snow had melted.

The Appleloosans seemed quite grateful for her help, though it was a while before any of them could get close enough to have a decent conversation, due to the massive amount of mud that the melting snow had created. Eventually, an extremely filthy Braeburn managed to get close enough to shake her hoof in gratitude.

“Um, sorry for making everything soggy...” Pinkie said as she wiped her hoof off on her tail, which seemed to absorb the mud before returning to its usual bright pink hue.

“Don’t you worry about that,” Braeburn said. “We had a bit of drought goin’ on anyway. You know, labor dispute with the local pegasus union, that sort of thing. But never you mind; you just get that arrogant varmint. Last I saw, he’d hopped on the train to Vanhoover.”

“Really? I wouldn’t have expected him to buy a ticket.”

“Oh, he didn’t buy a ticket. He just hopped on top of the train.”

“Oh... yeah, that makes more sense.”

Braeburn looked confused. “Um, actually, it doesn’t.”

“I know it doesn’t. That’s why it does.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind. I need to get to Vanhoover!” Pinkie galloped to the train station, hopped on a pushcart and began traveling north as fast as she could, which, as has been noted, was quite fast indeed, since she could very easily skip the vast stretches of desert where there was nopony to see her traveling.

Following the directions from an old joke, Pinkie Pie went north until it started raining, and sure enough, when she got off of the pushcart, she was on the outskirts of the northwestern city. A small explosion in a nearby warehouse tipped her off to her quarry’s likely location. She burst through the entrance to see Discord, who had rather unimaginatively knocked out the security guards and was dumping bags of brown flakes into a large vat.

Pinkie Pie gasped. “Instant coffee?! You monster!”

If Discord was annoyed by this interruption, he had an odd way of showing it: he raised an eyebrow quizzically and issued a correction. “It’s not just instant coffee, it’s non-organic decaffeinated instant coffee, and I’ve just finished replacing all the regular coffee in the entire city with it. Let’s see if anypony notices, shall we?”

About this time, sirens began blaring as several dozen riots spontaneously broke out throughout Vanhoover. A nearby dumpster spontaneously erupted into flame, and several ponies broke into a plate glass window factory to throw trash cans through everything they could see.

“Huh... I suppose they can tell the difference,” Discord mused. He looked at Pinkie Pie who was glaring at him angrily. “Well? What are you waiting for? Do that stupid princess thing where you drop everything to help your little ponies already.”

“Oh, I don’t have to. It’s become abundantly clear that the best way to help them out is to stop you.”

“Hah! You don’t have the g—” Discord’s comment was cut off when Pinkie Pie bucked him as hard as she could, sending him through the concrete wall of the warehouse and leaving a draconequus-shaped hole in his wake.

However, when she poked her head through the hole, Pinkie didn’t see Discord lying on the ground, or even getting up to make a counterattack. Instead, he was flying northeast through the air. “Hey! Get back here!”

Pinkie Pie wasn’t about to let Discord out of her sight again, so, with faith the the local authorities could straighten out the coffee riots without her help, she once again took off in hot pursuit. She wasn’t certain how long she had chased him (just being around Discord tended to make estimation of any sort a sketchy proposition), but when he finally landed, it appeared to be somewhere close to the Crystal Mountains.

Pinkie Pie had never actually been to this part of Equestria before, and it wasn’t hard to see why it wasn’t a huge tourist attraction. At this time of year, the foothills of the Crystal Mountains looked like a more rugged version of Equestria's central plains: grass covered the hilly ground as far as the eye could see, but there were hardly any trees to speak of. In fact, the only things that stood out were the chilly winds and the occasional gleam of an odd bit of crystal dust in the soil. At somewhat regular intervals, an isolated crystal shard could be seen poking through the ground, giving the vague impression that it was once part of an immeasurably grander whole.

For his part, Discord seemed equally disappointed with the surroundings. “Huh... there’s hardly anypony up here. I would have thought that someone would have moved in by now. Oh, well. I guess I’ll have to head back down south. Maybe Cloudsdale will prove more interesting.”

“Oh, no you don’t!” Pinkie shouted. “You leave those ponies alone.”

Discord smirked yet again. “Make me.”

“Okay... I will,” Pinkie replied as she lifted one of her forehooves over her head.

Discord looked genuinely confused. “Um, what are you doing?”

Pinkie didn’t answer; instead, she kept her hoof raised over her head as she shut her eyes as tightly as possible. Within seconds, a glowing ball formed and began hovering directly over her. As her opponent scratched his head in confusion, Pinkie Pie began to sweat profusely. Her muscles began to shake as the glowing ball grew bigger and bigger. A sustained groan began to escape her lips as the ball began sprouting hairy appendages that looked remarkably like crepe paper.

By the time the glowing orb had reached a size that was as big as Discord himself, the draconequus had begun nervously backing away, and would have no doubt run off again had Pinkie Pie not suddenly opened her eyes and shouted, “Ataque Piñata!” With as much force as she could muster, she hurled the ball at Discord, who barely had a chance to turn his head before taking the full force of the object, which split open on impact, sending peppermint candies, lollipops, and root beer barrels flying across the landscape and sending Discord crashing to the ground.

“In Crystal Mountains, piñata hits you.” Not the cleverest quip, perhaps, but Pinkie felt totally awesome saying it, and that was what really mattered.

“Ow...” Discord said as he sat up, rubbing several large bumps on his head. “That piñata was filled with nothing but hard candy! That really hurt.”

“Well, that was basically the idea,” Pinkie Pie admitted.

“Okay, fine,” the draconequus said as he rose to his feet. “In that case, I have a question for you: Do you like eggnog?”

“Does it matter whether I answer yes or no?”

“Not really,” Discord said as he snapped his fingers. In less than a second, Pinkie had all the wind knocked out of her as a wet, sticky substance erupted from the ground beneath her and hit her squarely in the barrel. Discord was positively delighted: “Oh, it looks like the real fun is finally ready to begin!”

As Pinkie slammed into the ground, she noted two things: first, her fight with Discord looked like it was going to last for quite a while, and second, that no matter how much imaginary friend magic you had to protect you, getting hit in the stomach with a geyser of eggnog hurt.

——————————

Consciousness returned gradually for Celestia, as though a thick mental fog was stubbornly refusing to dissipate in spite of all her efforts to regain clarity. Her body still ached all over from the spell Trixie had managed to cast on her, but that turned out to be a good thing, as ultimately that discomfort gave Celestia something to focus on, and eventually she was able to open her eyes and look around.

She recognized the old cave immediately, even through the translucent blue force field that surrounded her. She was surprised to find herself here, though in retrospect, she probably shouldn’t have been. After all, it seemed fairly certain that Trixie was in league with Discord, so there was no reason to assume that he wouldn’t have mentioned such a potentially valuable asset to her. They were in the “throne room.” The magnificent seat was still there, as were all of the columns, but something still seemed... off. It took several more seconds for the memories to kick in and inform Celestia that her sister’s beautiful, flowing works of art had been removed and replaced with enormous gemstones in the shape of regular solids.

“So, you’ve noticed the artistic achievements of The Great and Powerful Trixie,” came an eerily confident voice which startled Celestia. She looked over at one of the entrances to the chamber and saw Trixie standing there, still wearing her hat and cloak.

Celestia immediately let loose a bolt of magic, but it only ricocheted around her cell before striking her in the wing.

“That’s not a very good idea, your Majesty,” Trixie noted, injecting as much sarcasm as possible into the sentence’s final word. “Those are the strongest force fields ever known to ponykind.”

“You think too highly of yourself. The Captain of the Royal Guard—”

“Yes, yes, The Great and Powerful Trixie is aware of his talents,” Trixie interrupted dismissively. “She was in Canterlot for the Changeling Invasion, and his shield was impressive... for an ordinary unicorn. Naturally, The Great and Powerful Trixie is no ordinary unicorn, and she has therefore created a far superior means of containment. For example, he foolishly chose to form his barrier into a sphere, that most deceptive of shapes, whereas The Great and Powerful Trixie has contained you and your sister inside perfectly formed cubes.”

Celestia glanced around and saw Luna lying in a cubical force field on the opposite side of the chamber, still unconscious. She could also see immediately why the force field which held her was so strong, and it had nothing to do with its shape: Trixie had just concentrated her magic over a much smaller surface area than Shining Armor had during the invasion. All the talk of perfect shapes also seemed strangely familiar, but she couldn’t quite put her horn on the reason. Unfortunately, this realization did little to help her find a way out of her predicament, as it probably meant that teleporting through the barrier would be all but impossible.

In a way, though, this was quite comforting, as Celestia hated being in a position where she could easily threaten somepony with brute force. Negotiating her way out of a problem might have been less visually impressive, but in her experience, it tended to lead to more long-term successes. Of course, the first step to successful negotiation was to get a proper sense of the pony she was dealing with. Fortunately, this was a simple matter of getting the aforementioned pony to start talking. “Why are you doing this, Trixie?”

“Isn’t it obvious? The Great and Powerful Trixie intends to gain political power equal in magnitude to her magical power.”

“But do you really want that? Have you actually thought through the implications?”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie does not see any negative implications from her plan. If Twilight Sparkle can do it, then she can do it better. And why should she be so selfish as to deprive the ponies of Equestria of her talents?”

Celestia noted the certainty with which Trixie claimed to be “better” than somepony else; from what she could remember of Twilight’s letters, that had been a theme of her original stage show. She mentally filed this information away and continued with her conversation. “And you believe that forming an alliance with Discord is the best way to accomplish this?”

Trixie rolled her eyes, as if Celestia had asked a question that she was tired of answering. “The Great and Powerful Trixie sees no need to discuss such matters with her adversaries.”

“But are you truly aware of what you have done? Discord is on the loose, causing who knows what sort of chaos! Do you seriously think you can control him?”

The blue unicorn glared at the princess. “The Great and Powerful Trixie is not an idiot; she knows perfectly well that attempting to control Discord is all but impossible. However, this issue is ultimately meaningless, as it has been factored into her calculus. Indeed, she is quite certain that it is the chimera’s very unpredictability which will sweep the ponies of Equestria into the protecting, secure embrace of The Great and Powerful Trixie.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It’s a very simple matter,” Trixie said with a dismissive wave of her hoof. The distinct note of contempt in her voice made it clear that she didn’t think that what she had said actually required an explanation. “Discord and Trixie have agreed to divide Equestria into separate spheres of influence. Once everything has settled down, we shall let the citizens of Equestria decide for themselves whose rule they wish to live under, which should be acceptable to all but the most unreasonable ponies.”

Celestia didn’t argue this point, mostly because it was abundantly clear that Trixie had completely lost sight of how the thought processes of “reasonable” ponies actually worked. Instead, she tried to find another potential flaw: “And have the two of you actually figured out how you will carve up Equestria? Given that so many of its resources are located in its interior, it couldn’t be easy coming up with an agreement that won’t lead to further disputes down the road.”

“Oh, we haven’t discussed how we’re actually going to split up the kingdom in much detail; this plan came together far too quickly for us to think that far ahead, and besides, Discord seemed to like the uncertainty. But one thing is certain: the dividing line has to be something more substantial than an imaginary line on a map, or else we’ll end up bickering and creating openings for counter-revolutions. No, it needs to be something solid and undisputable; something that unequivocally acts as a barrier; something like... the surface.”

“Excuse me?” Celestia asked. She had no idea what the wistful look that appeared in “The Great and Powerful” Trixie’s eyes meant, but she was fairly certain that it wasn’t positive.

“Yes, the chimera can hold claim to the world above the surface. After all, there’s so many more variables to deal with there; so many more ways to be infected by imperfection. Underground, however, everything can be controlled. The Great and Powerful Trixie can build a new, better society, where the ever-present order will allow all ponies to strive for perfection unencumbered by the unpredictable whims of the surface. Why not let Discord do as he pleases there?”

Perhaps it was due to a subtle shift in the unicorn’s tone of voice, Celestia couldn’t shake the odd feeling that, despite her claims that she’d already planned everything out, Trixie was not revealing those plans so much as she was talking out an idea that had just come to her. However, if that was the case, Trixie must have concluded that this was indeed a splendid idea, because she had a very smug and extremely satisfied smile on her face as she turned towards a particularly large crystalline pillar and placed a hoof on it.

“Yes... it should be here,” Trixie continued as her voice became lower and more guttural, “where all ponykind can be inspired by these wondrous sights of unchanging constancy....”

As Trixie trailed off, Celestia noticed that the whites of the unicorn’s red eyes had taken on a pale green tint—and it was only then, as Trixie’s breath began seething through the clenched teeth of her grin, that Celestia remembered, to her horror, why all of the rhetoric about perfection and precision had sounded so familiar.

“Perfect... silent... unmoving... crystalsssss....”

Author's Note

I think a few clarifications are in order, in case they don't get fully covered in the story proper: First, the events of "The Crystal Empire" Parts 1 and 2 did not occur in this AU. Second, both Pinkie and Discord could probably replicate Penumbra's ability to create golems, but neither has the ability to control large numbers of them with the efficiency Penny is capable of.

Chapter 3: The Deadening

Celestia galloped through the field of translucent shards, oblivious to the lacerations appearing on her legs, screaming at the top of her lungs. “Coward! Villain! Reveal thyself and answer for thine atrocities!”

“So thou might have an unobstructed view of me to ease thy spellcasting? Thou takest me for a foal,” answered a low, guttural voice that came from everywhere and nowhere.

The alicorn halted in her tracks as the enraged heat beneath her face began clouding her sensibility. “Sombra!” she bellowed, as if the weight of her fury alone would compel the recalcitrant unicorn to step into the open.

The silence that followed finally allowed Luna to catch up with her sister. The younger alicorn’s pupils constricted as she landed next to her sister and saw the state of her shins. “Celestia... wherefore didst thou not take to the air?”

It took the older alicorn a few seconds to come up with an answer: “It... did not occur to me.”

Luna sighed slowly before turning her attention to their undetectable foe. “Sombra,” she spoke, clearly and evenly, “show thyself, and we swear to hear your perspective before acting.”

“Luna!” Celestia hissed.

“’Tis preferable to chasing the beast across the Crystal Mountains,” the younger princess whispered in her sister’s ear.

In this matter, at least, Sombra appeared to be in agreement, as the grey unicorn stallion stepped out from behind the crumbling ruins of a crystalline spire. “I am here, Your Excellency,” he said politely as he tossed his red cape onto his back.

“Sombra, what is this madness?” Luna asked forthrightly. “Thou wast sent here as an envoy, and we find that you have visited devastation across their land! What could these ponies possibly have done to you?”

“They were.” The long silence that followed this cryptic statement felt unnaturally strident.

Luna shook her head, surrendering any effort to understand the stallion. “I cannot begin to fathom thy reasons for the wanton destruction of the Crystal Empire, but that is hardly the most important matter at hoof. What hast thou done to the Crystal Ponies? Where are they?”

Sombra let out a chuckle that soon transformed into a sickening, full-throated laugh. “‘Where are they?’” he repeated with a mocking smile. “Why, they haven’t gone anywhere! Look around you!”

“Thou art mad,” Luna said. “There is nothing left here but a field of shards....” The princess’ voice trailed off as the horrific weight of her adversary’s deeds struck her in the heart. She stared, disbelieving, at the sparkling dust that had wedged its way into the crevices of her shoes. “No... This cannot be....” She did her best to blink the tears away from her eyes as she returned her attention to the caped stallion. “Why wouldst thou... why would anypony do this?!”

“These abominations flagrantly violated the very concept of Order,” Sombra answered dismissively. “The children of the earth were not meant to speak or move around of their own accord. I merely provided discipline, and as you can see”—Sombra paused to lift a particularly large red stone with a heart-shaped etching that the princesses recognized as a cutie mark—“they are now behaving quite obediently.”

Up to this point, Celestia had been holding her tongue in an effort to suppress her anger, but no longer. “Thou wouldst deign to quarrel with ‘the children of the earth’?” she said, her body trembling and nostrils flaring. “So be it—they shall reply!”

The white alicorn reared up onto her hind legs and then slammed her forehooves into the ground, injecting tremendous amounts of magic directly into the earth beneath her. Sombra, who had apparently been expecting some type of unicorn magic, quickly cast a shielding spell, which provided no defense from the vines and brambles that sprouted beneath him and twisted around his legs. Though he managed to wrest his legs away from some of these, they turned out to be but a diversion, as he suddenly found himself surrounded and entangled in the roots of a mangrove which, despite the local climate, had sprung from the ground and matured to adulthood in a matter of seconds.

As the stallion’s movement became more restricted within his wooden prison cell, Celestia’s horn lit up and her magical aura surrounded Sombra’s curved red horn, effectively blocking any further attempts at casting magic that he might make, at least in the short term. The unicorn’s red eyes cast an unearthly green glow as he whinnied in frustration.

“Thou hast brought this uponthine own head, Sombra,” Celestia said serenely.

Luna seemed concerned by this sudden emotional shift. “What? Thou resistest the urge to follow thy success with a demonstration of smirking bravado? Art thou alright, Celestia?”

“My dear sister, I am quite sound,” the white alicorn replied coolly as she stared at their trapped adversary, “but now is no time for jocularity.” It was as if all her agitation had drained away, leaving behind nothing but a calm, distilled fury. “It seems to me,” Celestia continued, “that this is a most appropriate time to put thy theories on the Elements of Harmony to the test.”

——————————

In the twenty hours immediately after the abduction of Celestia and Luna, Penumbra had learned several very important things: first, an alicorn didn’t need much earth pony and unicorn magic in order to make sleeping completely optional for her. In addition, this talent was apparently shared by her Shadowbolt golems, as they had yet to show any signs of fatigue in their search for the missing princesses. In retrospect, though, this second point shouldn’t have been that surprising; after all, during the Nightmare’s unintentional creation, Luna had basically been working under the assumption that her sister had gained the ability to create super-soldiers.

This skill had turned out to be quite useful, as Penumbra’s original plan to track Luna using her lightning delivery method had run into some flaws. At first, it had seemed that the letters had been arriving at spots in the middle of nowhere, which would have suggested that Luna was still being moved. Indeed, this seemed to be the case, as sending out a signal at each successive spot directed the search party a little further south. However, once they’d reached the Badlands region, the magical bolts seemed to go nowhere except straight into the ground.

Penumbra paced back and forth on top of a prominent mesa, wracking her brain for answers as the mid-afternoon sun blazed down on her head. Under ideal circumstances, the lightning was supposed to take the shortest route possible to Luna, though it had been modified to avoid hitting solid objects in order to avoid causing unneeded property damage. It should have kept “looking” until it found an alternate route... or until it simply ran out of power.

Suddenly, Penumbra realized what was going on. Luna hadn’t been moving south. She’d been underground. The bolts had simply stopped when they hit the ground, depositing their letters when an obvious detour toward their destination was lacking. Then again, that didn’t really explain why no detour had been discovered—unless, of course, whatever chamber Luna was being held in was a considerable distance from its entrance to the surface.

Fortunately, she was equipped with the perfect tools to overcome such an obstacle: followers who unquestioningly obeyed her every whim. “Shadowbolts! Spread out and look for a cave entrance!”

——————————

At no point in her life had Rainbow Dash ever cared about magical channeling. Oh, sure, she’d done it a few times—as the Element of Loyalty, that sort of thing came with the job description—but she’d never given a flying feather about how it actually worked. Yet here she was, sitting in the most eggheaded section of the most eggheaded building in Canterlot, staring at the pages of the most eggheaded book she’d ever seen and trying to force her brain to understand all the eggheaded mumbo-jumbo about “ethereal currents.” She, Rarity, Applejack, and Fluttershy had spent nearly an entire day in the Archives, searching for anything that might explain how Trixie had managed to prevail over Celestia and Luna.

At the moment, the four Element-Bearers were focusing their efforts on the Alicorn Amulet. Fluttershy had speculated that its power might have somehow transferred to Trixie when it broke, and they were attempting to find out if that was something that amulets could actually do. Rainbow Dash glanced over at Rarity, who was leaning back in her chair, massaging her temples with her hooves. As the only unicorn in their little study group, she’d found herself being made the de facto leader, simply because unicorns tended to know more about magical theory, as their magic was less intuitive than that of pegasi and earth ponies. Often as not, though, Rarity only had a rough idea of how any particular spell actually worked. Fluttershy sat across from her, scribbling notes on scrap paper, while Applejack was off in a corner, staring at the spines on a bookshelf and somehow managing to look even more frustrated than Rainbow Dash.

With an irritated groan, Rainbow Dash shoved the book to the side and said, “This is getting us nowhere! Has anypony here figured out anything new in the last thirty minutes?”

Fluttershy raised her hoof meekly. “Um, I think I might have found a manual on how to create a magical amulet.”

“Really?” Rarity said, sitting bolt upright. “Why on earth didn’t you mention this, Fluttershy?”

“Um, well, it might be a manual for creating an amulet, but the writing is kind of hard to make out, so there’s a chance it’s just a recipe for cabbage and broccoli soup that requires unicorn magic.”

Rainbow Dash slammed her head against the table in frustration, but this produced little more than a throbbing pain in her snout. “Ugh... we are never going to figure out how that thing worked at this rate!” she shouted as she rubbed her self-inflicted injury.

“Well, maybe we oughta try focusin’ on somethin’ other than the Alicorn Amulet, then,” Applejack proposed.

The response to this idea was underwhelming, to say the least. “Are you still on about your pet theory, darling?” Rarity asked with obvious exasperation as Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy pretended to be concentrating even harder on their research.

“Look, all I’m sayin’ is that this business with Trixie is exactly the kinda stunt Discord would pull. I mean, we already know he’s workin’ with her, right?”

“Yes,” Rarity said, “but she was behaving erratically while Discord was still in his statue. The Alicorn Amulet is the most likely cause of her abilities, since we already know that it increases a unicorn’s magic skills.”

“Well, what if Discord had somethin’ to do with the Amulet? After all, it did sorta make her go loopy, too.”

“Uh, hello?” Rainbow Dash said. “He was in his statue the whole time.”

“Maybe he escaped while nopony was lookin’, though.”

“Somehow, I doubt Discord would return to being a statue if he could break out on his own,” Rarity said as she idly flipped a stray curl of her mane behind her neck.

“Um, can we please stop fighting?” Fluttershy asked nervously.

“No, please, go ahead and fight. It will give me a reason to stay away from the media.”

The four Element-Bearers turned their heads and saw Princess Cadance leaning against a door frame with a wide smirk on her face. “Your Excellency? What are you doing here?” Rarity asked as she hurriedly rose to her feet so she could bow before the royal.

“You don’t need to worry about honorifics,” Cadance said as she walked into the center of the room. “There’s nopony here to be shocked if you just use my name. As for why I’m here... well, I need a break from dealing with panicky, uptight aristocrats and politicians, and holding yet another press conference isn’t going to help me there, so Twilight suggested that I head over here to see how you girls were doing.”

“How is Twi holdin’ up, by the way?” Applejack asked.

“Reasonably well, actually. To nopony’s surprise but her own, she’s gotten the hang of raising the sun and moon really quickly. She’d have actually joined you herself, but right now, Equestria really needs her administrative skills. At the moment, she’s helping her brother make plans to get the military back in shape as soon as possible, in case they’re needed.”

“Cool,” Rainbow Dash said, though the blasé tone of her voice suggested that she thought Twilight’s brain would be put to better use with her friends. “So, any word on Pinkie and Penny?”

“I thought Penumbra hated that name,” Cadance said in confusion.

“She does,” Rainbow Dash said, “and she only lets us get away with ribbing her about it because we’re her friends.” When Cadance responded with little more than an unconvinced stare, the pegasus doubled down: “It’s true! Penumbra likes having an excuse to act grumpy and cynical. She’s weird that way.”

“I see,” Cadance replied, still unconvinced. “Well, Penumbra’s most recent dispatch indicates that she’s in the Badlands region, while Pinkie Pie, on the other hoof, has been keeping Discord busy in the Crystal Mountains, according to telegrams I’ve received from members of my personal court. They apparently have rather... mixed emotions about what’s going on.”

“What do you mean?” Fluttershy asked.

“Well, although Pinkie and Discord’s ‘fight’ has apparently been rather amusing to watch from a distance, it’s taking place over the remains of the region’s greatest tragedy... but there will be time enough to dwell on such matters later. Tell me, how has your research been going?”

“Sadly, it hasn’t been going anywhere,” Rarity said. “We’re pretty sure that the Alicorn Amulet had something to do with Trixie’s power boost—well, most of us are, anyway,” the unicorn hastily added after seeing the look on Applejack’s face, “so we’ve been trying to figure out what kind of amulet it was so we can tell Twilight how it actually worked.”

“Which ain’t easy when you don’t have much experience with technical stuff,” Applejack said.

Rarity nodded. “Indeed, I had no idea that there were so many varieties. Elemental, reciprocal, algorithmic... and all of them apparently use slightly different varieties of channeling spells.”

“Even that wouldn’t be too much of a problem if we could find something about the effects of breaking them,” Fluttershy said resignedly. “But all we’ve found so far are warnings not to try it in the first place.”

“It’s not even a matter of trying to figure out everything,” Rainbow Dash added. “We figure that once we find the right book, or scroll, or whatever, we can just bring it to Twilight and she’ll be able to figure out all the egghead stuff in no time.”

Cadance tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Well, perhaps I can be of assistance.”

“Oh?” Rarity asked. “Did you study magical theory before you became an alicorn?”

“Actually, I’ve been an alicorn my entire life. Magical theory is a standard part of the curriculum when you’re learning from Celestia.”

“Great!” Rainbow Dash said. “Then do you know how to figure out what kind of amulet it is?”

“Well, I might have an idea or two.” The pink alicorn strolled over to a pile of books and began examining the titles. “I can’t help but notice that all of the books are technical in nature.”

“Well, yeah,” Applejack said, wrinkling her brow in mild confusion. “Seemed like the best place to look to figure out how the Amulet actually worked.”

Princess Cadance nodded slowly. “Yes, but did you do any research into what the Amulet actually did?”

Applejack looked even more confused. “You’re losin’ me there.”

Fortunately, years of dealing with politicians had allowed Cadance to build up massive reserves of patience, so she took this in stride. “Let me put it more directly. Have you researched the history of the Alicorn Amulet?”

Rainbow Dash smacked a hoof against her forehead. “You gotta be kidding me. How could we have overlooked that?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Cadance replied. “After all, you’ve probably never undertaken a major academic project before—and definitely not one with this much pressure on it. Even the brightest minds sometimes focus on the wrong details.”

“Ah, I see,” Rarity said. “It’s like when Twilight kept looking for solutions during the time-travel incident, correct?”

Cadance nodded. “That’s the sort of thing I’m referring to. And who knows? I could very well be wrong, too.”

Fluttershy hesitantly spoke up. “Um, in that case, would you mind looking through these technical books while we start researching the history? I mean, because you’re more familiar with it, after all.”

Cadance gave them a warm and comforting smile to rival Celestia’s. “That sounds like a plan.”

——————————

Two hours later, the four intrepid researchers rejoined Cadance, and their mood was much more optimistic. “So,” the princess asked, “what did you learn?”

“Well, I learned that research is a lot easier to tolerate when you’re actually getting results,” Rainbow Dash said as she unloaded a stack of books onto a nearby table. “That amulet’s been around the block a few times.”

“Yeah,” Applejack said, “but there weren’t nopony talkin’ about it until around the time Discord made his first attempt to take over.”

“Which is probably just a coincidence,” Rarity added, rolling her eyes, “since the earliest records all seem to associate the Amulet with a stallion named Sombra.”

The smile faded from Cadance’s face. “Did you say ‘Sombra’?” she asked with an almost-imperceptible quiver in her voice.

“Yes,” Rarity replied with some concern. “I take it you’ve heard the name.”

Cadance nodded solemnly. “He’s the one who brought about the end of the Crystal Empire.”

“The Crystal Empire?” Fluttershy asked as she landed in a chair next to the princess.

Cadance sighed. “I’m not surprised that you haven’t heard of it. After all, it’s been gone for more than a thousand years. To put it simply, the Crystal Empire was once an independent nation, located in the Crystal Mountains.”

Rarity’s eyes widened. “Ah, so that’s the reason that the province is autonomous. It’s a legacy from before its annexation, then?”

“You could put it that way,” Cadance said, “though there are more than a few Crystal Ponies who think it’s more due to tradition and nostalgia.”

“Uh, Crystal Ponies?” Applejack asked.

“That’s what we northerners are—or were, at least. We don’t look as different from other ponies as we used to,” Cadance added, looking rather wistful. She stood up and began to pace the room. “Once upon a time, far to the north, there was a nation known as the Crystal Empire. It was so named not only for its large gemstone deposits, but also because it was the home of the Crystal Ponies, strange creatures who resembled the flesh-and-blood ponies who lived to the south, but possessed a unique crystalline cellular structure which not only allowed them to survive in the unforgiving elements, but to thrive there.

“That said, the Crystal Ponies still preferred warmth and greenery, which is why most of them lived under the protection of the Crystal Heart, an artifact of immense power which held back the elements, creating an oasis of warmth and fertility in the rugged landscape. It was protected by the Crystal Alicorns, who ruled as empresses and emperors.” Cadance extended her wings here for an extra flourish. “While I’m not so naive to claim it was a utopia, there’s every reason to believe that its rulers were fair and just more often than not.”

Cadance paused here, giving Fluttershy a chance to ask a question. “Um, when you say that you used to look different, what do you mean?”

“Oh, well, under the right conditions, a Crystal Pony’s body can become translucent, like a gemstone.”

“So, their skeletons and stuff are visible?” Rainbow Dash asked, looking slightly nauseated.

“No,” Cadance said. “We looked like walking, talking crystal sculptures.”

“Well, that doesn’t make a lot of sense,” Rainbow Dash said. “I’m guessing it must be special Crystal Pony magic or something like that.”

“That’s correct,” Cadance said with a nod, “and if Sombra had come to the same conclusion, history might have been very different.”

“Okay, so who was he?” Applejack asked.

Cadance sighed as she folded her wings again and sat down. “Sombra was one of the most talented magicians of his day. As a foal, he’d been a prodigy with a wide range of talent in the field of unicorn magic, and as he grew up, he developed a sharp intellect to match those talents.”

“Hmm... that sounds like someone we know....” Rarity observed.

“The comparison to Twilight is more appropriate than you might expect,” Cadance said with a nod, “and not just because Jovian recognized his talent and took him under his wing.”

“Who’s that?” Rainbow Dash asked.

Rarity somehow managed to resist rolling her eyes. “That would be Celestia and Luna’s father, Prince Jovian II.”

The pegasus looked slightly chastened. “Oh, uh, right. Must have slept through that history lesson.”

Cadance continued on, “However, any attempts to compare Sombra with Twilight fall apart thanks to his notorious perfectionism. I know that Twilight has a reputation for being obsessively detail-oriented at times, but even she would think he was crazy.”

“Hold up, let me guess,” Applejack cut in. “He had ridiculously specific standards for darned near everything, and weird ideas about circles.”

“Er... yes. Was that in the books you came across?”

“Nope. We just saw what the Amulet did to Trixie, is all.”

Cadance shrugged this off and kept speaking. “Well, in any case, Sombra was obsessed with perfection and precision, and he believed that nothing in nature represented this idea more than crystals. It’s said that he owned a personal collection of specimens that would rival a dragon’s hoard, though there might a bit of exaggeration there. His notes on their properties were apparently quite useful to the makers of magical artifacts, and there are probably still copies in the geology section, in fact.” Cadance’s ears drooped forlornly as she finished her statement with a deep sigh.

Fluttershy finally spoke up. “So, was Sombra interested in the Crystal Empire, then?”

Cadance slowly nodded. “Very much so,” she said with a mirthless smile. “He’d been reading about our culture for years, so when there was an opening for an envoy to the Crystal Empire, he personally lobbied Jovian for the position, and at the time, Jovian had no reason to refuse his protégé. Unfortunately, whatever Sombra’s expectations were, the Crystal Ponies didn’t live up to them and he didn’t handle his disappointment very well.”

Fluttershy was looking even more nervous than usual, but she still managed to ask a question. “So, um, what happened next? Did... did Sombra try to take over to make the Crystal Ponies act the way he thought they should?”

Cadance didn’t answer at first. Instead, she stared at the floor, her face sullen as she struggled to hold back the tears forming in her eyes. “No...” she finally managed to answer, though her voice was audibly cracking. “Sombra... he... he....”

Rarity walked over to the princess and placed a hoof on her shoulder. “It’s alright, Cadance. If it’s too hard to talk about, you don’t need to tell us.”

“But I do,” the alicorn said, tapping into some previously unused reserves of stoicism. Cadance straightened out her neck and once again made eye contact with her audience. “If there’s even the slightest possibility that Sombra’s involved, I have to tell you, because you need to know what he was like.”

Cadance took several deep breaths before continuing: “Although he initially expected us to open a pathway to enlightenment, within a few months, Sombra became thoroughly disillusioned with the Crystal Empire. Not because we’d been misrepresenting ourselves and putting on a show of incorruptibility, mind you; contemporary accounts show that most Equestrians thought of the Crystal Ponies as simply a fourth pony race, and no more or less prone to personal flaws than the other three. Instead, Sombra’s problems were... philosophical, for lack of a better word. Most of his personal beliefs have to be inferred from what little evidence remains of them, but it seems that he came to the Empire expecting to interact with pony-shaped crystals, instead of ponies with some crystalline characteristics.” The alicorn’s voice had become slightly monotonous as her word choice became more polysyllabic, as though she was trying to drown out her emotions with a professorial drone.

“What’s the difference?” Rainbow Dash asked, scratching her head.

“To most ponies, there wouldn’t be one,” Cadance said, “but to Sombra, the difference was everything. Crystals have geometric shapes. Crystals are stationary. They don’t eat or breathe or speak. In short, crystals aren’t alive, but the Crystal Ponies were.” Cadance paused again to take another deep breath before continuing. “Apparently, this created a lot of strain on his psyche, which was already somewhat unbalanced, and eventually... it snapped.”

Silence filled the library once again, but nopony seemed willing to break it. When Cadance finally resumed her tale, her eyes were once again fixed squarely on the floor. “Sombra spent nearly a year getting his plan ready. Hiding his madness underneath a mask of charm, he used his position and learning to earn the trust of the Crystal Alicorns. Nopony could possibly have suspected that he was up to something.” Cadance’s voice wavered here, giving the impression that she was repeating a statement she’d heard many times before but still had difficulty believing.

“It was the three hundredth anniversary of the Empress’ coronation. Ponies from all over the Crystal Mountains had gathered for the celebration, and...” The alicorn was visibly shaking as she paused her narrative once again. Her audience leaned in closer as she continued: “He started with the Royal Family. They were all together, and he caught them off guard. Nopony had realized just how much power he had. Then... then he began to walk through the streets. Mare, stallion, foal... it didn’t matter. He shattered them all on sight. He’d taken control of the Crystal Heart, and the force field that kept out the elements was being used to keep the ponies trapped inside. The few who managed to escape went through the mines, but...” Cadance trailed off again as she ran a hoof through her mane and twisted her neck towards the ceiling. Even though it was rather obvious that she had omitted large chunks of detail in order to speed through the story as fast as she could, none of the other ponies wanted to press the matter.

“If... if my great-grandmother hadn’t been in the Griffon Kingdom that day to negotiate a treaty, she... I wouldn’t... I—” It was too much; Cadance couldn’t finish her sentence. Instead, she broke down into shuddering sobs as a thousand years’ worth of what-ifs and could-have-beens crashed into her mind. The other four ponies didn’t need any further prompting, as they all embraced her in a massive hug that felt like it lasted forever.

Eventually, Cadance managed to regain her composure, and her voice returned to its more even, nuanced tones. “Thank you. I needed that.”

Applejack nodded, and hesitantly asked, “So, uh, was somepony able to stop Sombra?”

Cadance nodded. “Celestia and Luna didn’t investigate what was going on at first, because getting involved in another country’s internal affairs was considered a diplomatic faux pas. By the time they arrived, the damage had been done. They had to use an immense amount of magic to break the force field—in fact, they shattered the Crystal Heart in the process. They used the Elements of Harmony on Sombra and made him pay for his crimes.”

“You mean they killed him?” Rarity asked.

“No,” Cadance said, pulling herself back into a more regal posture. “Sombra deserved far worse than death, and he got exactly what he deserved. The Elements transformed him into a formless vapor, which rushed further to the north. Celestia theorized that he was hoping the cold temperatures would allow him to become solid again, and therefore more ‘orderly.’ Given his obsessions, I can’t think of a more appropriate fate. But now that I think about it, it’s possible that he was obsessed enough to have a plan in place in case something like this happened.”

“What do you mean?” Fluttershy asked.

“I mean Sombra might not have been rushing north to freeze himself. He might have been rushing towards a reliquary that he’d prepared ahead of time to house himself.”

Rarity thoughtfully tapped her hoof against her chin. “That would indeed explain why the Alicorn Amulet drives its users mad. And Trixie’s behavior in Ponyville certainly sounds similar to his....”

“Yeah, but if Sombra was a unicorn, why’s it called the ‘Alicorn Amulet’?” Applejack asked.

“Most likely because it’s set in a pendant in the shape of an alicorn,” Cadance said.

This seemed to cover most of the pertinent issues, but Rainbow Dash still seemed confused about something, however. “Hold up... if you’re one of these Crystal Ponies, why don’t you, um, look like a crystal?” The pegasus blushed as she finished her question, apparently only then realizing how insensitive it must have sounded.

If Cadance was offended, she did a good job of hiding it. “There were so few of us who survived that intermarriage with other pony races was unavoidable, even for the nobility.”

“How many Crystal Ponies are left?” Rarity asked.

“Well, there really aren’t any ‘pure’ crystal ponies left. Like I said, intermarriage was unavoidable. However, most of the current residents of the Crystal Mountains come from crystal stock, so there’s at least five thousand descendants left... down from nearly ten times that amount....” Cadance added mournfully.

The room filled with silence once again, as the heaviness of the subject matter stifled all efforts to restart the conversation. Still, there was one more issue that needed to be raised, and eventually, it was Fluttershy raised it. “Um, I have a question. Even if Trixie has Sombra’s power now, would that actually explain how she won? I mean, Sombra wasn’t able to beat Celestia.” The yellow pegasus looked rather flushed as her friends listened to her in silence. “It... it’s just an idea,” she said.

Rarity sighed. “It is not ‘just’ an idea, my dear Fluttershy. As far as I’m concerned, it’s an extremely valid point. However, the idea that there might actually be more going on than Trixie being influenced by whatever remains of Sombra is somewhat overwhelming. Of all the worst things that could happen, this is—”

“Do you really gotta do that stupid melodramatic couch routine, Rarity?” Applejack interrupted angrily. “It’s been pretty obvious that the situation’s bad for nearly a day, and lyin’ down and pretendin’ ta bawl your eyes out ain’t gonna help nopony right now. Right now, we need to come up with some ideas, and we ain’t gonna do that unless we keep calm!”

“Like you’re doing?” Rainbow Dash asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Exactly!” Applejack shouted at the top of her lungs.

Rarity sniffed derisively. “My dear Applejack, you know perfectly well that I am fully capable of evaluating a situation in a calm, rational manner. I simply indulge in the melodramatic as a form of stress relief. Besides that, being a ‘drama queen’ gives my customers the impression that I am extremely detail-oriented, which is always a plus in the fashion industry. Really, when you get right down to it, it’s like a stage... persona....” The unicorn’s eyes widened as she abruptly trailed off, leaving her friends rather confused.

“Um, are you alright, Rarity?” Fluttershy asked softly.

Rarity, however, still seemed to be sorting out the implications of whatever idea she’d latched onto. “It would certainly explain the Ursa, but still...”

“Hello?” Rainbow Dash called out as she hovered next to her friend’s ear. “Earth to Rarity! Mind letting us know what’s going on?”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie,” Rarity said absently.

“Huh?”

“We’re up against The Great and Powerful Trixie,” Rarity said, her voice sounding much more assured now.

Applejack didn’t seem to find this particularly illuminating. “Okay, one: No kiddin’. Two: Her name’s just ‘Trixie.’ Ain’t no need to take that ‘Great and Powerful’ crap seriously.”

“On the contrary,” Rarity said, “there is every reason to take her seriously, because she is not ‘just’ Trixie anymore.”

Cadence looked concerned. “Rarity, are you sure that you don’t need a break?”

“I’m quite certain,” Rarity answered. “The more I think about this, the more it fits together.”

“Well, it certainly ain’t comin’ together for us,” Applejack said as she rolled her eyes.

Rarity groaned. “How to explain this... do you remember Trixie’s stage show from the first time she arrived in Ponyville?”

“Yeah, she said she was better than everyone and claimed that she’d taken out an Ursa Major,” Rainbow Dash said. “But that was a load of bunk.”

“Precisely,” Rarity said, “and yet, last night, she apparently convinced an Ursa Major to assist her through nothing more than intimidation. Furthermore, she kept repeating her catchphrase throughout the confrontation.”

“Pretty sure she was just bein’ flamboyant, there, Rarity,” Applejack said.

“Really? Because it seems to me that that was her explanation for why she was successful. Luna was knocked out because Trixie was ‘better’ at negotiating with an Ursa, and Penny claims that’s what she said when she outmaneuvered Celestia. Indeed, she claimed that her motive for attacking was to demonstrate that she’s ‘better’ than Twilight, and she succeeded!”

“Rarity, are you claiming that Trixie has somehow managed to become inherently better than everypony at everything?” Cadance asked with obvious incredulity in her voice.

“That depends on whom you are referring to when you speak of ‘Trixie.’ It’s true that the professional entertainer named Trixie Lulamoon couldn’t do that sort of thing at all, but the fictionalized version of herself known as The Great and Powerful Trixie could. To put it simply, our opponent isn’t Trixie—it’s her stage persona.”

“But how is that even possible?” Applejack asked in complete bewilderment.

Rarity raised an eyebrow in surprise. “One of your best friends used to be a figment of Twilight’s imagination, and you’re doubting whether this is possible? The burst of magic that destroyed the Alicorn Amulet would surely be enough to activate the process, assuming I’ve understood their explanations correctly. The end result would be quite similar to how Discord, Penumbra, and Pinkie Pie were brought into the world.”

“But they were imaginary friends,” Fluttershy pointed out.

“Penumbra was a contingency plan,” Rarity countered. “A warped version of Celestia for whom Luna had developed a complete personality. As Trixie is a very ambitious professional showmare, it would make sense that she’d put that level of effort into developing a unique stage presence.”

“But how does that explain anything?” Rainbow Dash asked as she scratched her head.

“My dear, it explains everything. As Penumbra demonstrated last night with her Shadowbolts, beings of this sort retain the abilities their creators give to them once they become ‘real.’ That means that The Great and Powerful Trixie was able to intimidate an Ursa Major because the ability to do so was essential to Trixie’s stage show.”

“So... she defeated the Princesses because...”

“Anything you can do, The Great and Powerful Trixie can do better,” Rarity replied, paraphrasing the showmare’s catchphrase.

“Hang on,” Applejack said. “If that was Trixie’s stage persona, then what happened to the real Trixie?”

“In all likelihood, Trixie didn’t conceive of her stage persona as a separate pony,” Cadance said, “which, if I’m understanding this correctly, would mean that her stage persona may have overwritten her genuine personality—to the extent that there’s a difference, at least.”

“Cadance, are you actually takin’ this idea seriously?” Applejack asked in surprise.

“Well, it’s been nearly a whole day since you four started your research, and it sounds like this is the only theory you have that’s even remotely plausible.”

Fluttershy apparently concurred, and, in a wavering voice, asked the obvious question: “But... how do we stop somepony who’s better than us at everything?”

Rarity paused for a second before coming up with a thoroughly unsatisfying answer. “I... don’t know.”

There were several more seconds of silence before Rainbow Dash spoke up. “I think we need to talk about this with Twilight.”

——————————

“And where was this cave?” Penumbra asked.

The Shadowbolt droned, “Two hundred kilotrots west by northwest of here, near Dodge City.”

Penumbra groaned as she leaned back against the cliff that she’d been using to shade herself from the sun. “There’s no way of knowing if a cave that far away will even lead here.”

“Should we begin a preliminary exploration?”

Penumbra sighed and rubbed her temples. “You might as well. If you find anything, let me know.” The Duchess of Everfree watched the stallion take flight as tried to think of a simpler way to reach the captive princesses.

“Come on, Penumbra,” she said quietly to herself, “you’re missing something here.” There had to be something she was overlooking. Digging? No, Trixie would probably hear the noise and move Celestia and Luna, sealing them off even further....

Penumbra’s internal monologue abruptly stopped. “Of course!” she shouted, smacking a hoof against her forehead. “The seal!” Luna had told her all about Discord’s uprising during their exile on the moon, including how the draconequus had sealed her and her sister in a cave in the Badlands. She took flight, and soon found the ledge that she’d seen in Luna’s memories. In no time at all, she’d brushed the dust away from a series of arcane runes carved into the rock... which is when she remembered that breaking Discord’s seal required considerable unicorn magic, and Twilight Sparkle had most of hers.

“Wonderful...” she grumbled softly to herself before recalling the detachment of Shadowbolts who’d been sent to explore the Dodge City cave. After leaving them with orders to guard the location and report any strange activity, she flew back towards Canterlot to present her update in person. Penumbra didn’t like the idea of leaving Celestia and Luna in their adversary’s care, but she was fairly certain that they’d be unharmed. After all, in the grand scheme of things, Trixie wasn’t really that dangerous.

Author's Note

And now you know what's been going on for the last seven chapters--and the previous story in the cycle, too. I briefly considered adding "Dark" or "Tragedy" tags because of what happens, but decided against it, since this chapter isn't typical of the story as a whole.

(Incidentally, the moment when Celestia sent that surge of earth pony magic into the ground was when Discord/Quigley ceased to be a mere "imaginary friend.")

Chapter 2: Hammer and Tongs

The light in the north had been so bright that Luna would have accused her sister of letting the sun intrude into her night had it not been accompanied by a series of deafening cracks. Thus, it came as no surprise to either sister when their father asked them to investigate what had happened. The two of them walked out of the throne room and discussed their ideas as they moved through hallways and corridors to their respective chambers.

“Perhaps we ought to request the accompaniment of a battalion from the Royal Guard,” Celestia offered.

Luna shook her head. “Nay, my sister. If there has not been any foul play, it may be viewed as an invasion of the Crystal Empire.”

“And if there has?”

The Princess of the Night sighed. “In my opinion, if that was the result of some sort of destructive magic, then I doubt very much that ordinary soldiers will be anything but a liability.” The dark blue alicorn paused briefly before suddenly turning sharply to the right and heading down a white marble hallway lined with torches glowing with magical blue fire.

“Sister?” Celestia called. “Where art thou going?”

“To fetch us some appropriate weapons,” Luna said simply, her eyes fixed straight ahead of her.

“But the armory is on the other side of the castle,” Celestia pointed out in mild confusion. She did not particularly feel like dealing with her sister’s eccentricities at the moment. “This hallway leads to the vault of Royal Treasury. Surely thou dost not think to throw money at whatever we encounter in hopes that it will accept a bribe.”

“I head to the vault because that is where we have been keeping Equestria’s most powerful artifacts. They are only seen as little more than baubles because our forebearers were completely unaware of their true nature.”

“Luna,” Celestia said with an exasperated tone in her voice. “What canst thou be speaking of?”

“The Elements of Harmony.”

Celestia’s shock was such that she ceased moving and stood temporarily rooted to her spot in the hallway, but her sister pressed on. “Luna!” she finally shouted, her temper getting the better of her. “Now is not the time to dwell on thy farfetched theories again!”

Luna turned on her heels and stared her elder sister in the eyes. “There is nothing farfetched about my theories. As I have explained to thee in the past, the magic that infuses the Elements of Harmony is far more complex than is needed for mere ceremonial functions. I believe that they may be conduits which will allow the channeling of magic with an efficiency beyond the ken of any pony alive today.”

“Sister,” Celestia replied, squinting her eyes skeptically, “thou art not speaking sensibly. Neither I nor thou had our magical abilities significantly enhanced after becoming Element-Bearers. Surely thou knew this, given thine expertise in magic.”

“Thou speakest truly in that regard,” Luna admitted with a subtle nod of her head. “But I do not think the Elements were meant to function so autonomously. Weak though they may be individually, I suspect that, when they are used in concert with one another, there is little that the Elements of Harmony can not overcome.”

——————————

Penumbra’s return to Canterlot turned out to be extremely well-timed, as her friends had not only uncovered important information of their own; they also needed somepony who could get in touch with Pinkie Pie at a moment’s notice. Hardly ten minutes after Penumbra had retreated back into Pinkie’s mind, the pink pony princess trotted through the doorway of the side room in the Royal Archives which had been chosen to serve as an impromptu war room while the damage to the great hall was being repaired—it was the same room, in fact, where Twilight Sparkle had first announced her intention to wrest control of the Equestrian throne from Celestia and Luna with the Nightmare’s assistance.

Despite the graveness of the situation, Penumbra found herself unable to hold back an amused smirk as she shut the door behind Pinkie and flew over to her seat at the large table which had been moved to the center of the room. The irony was just too striking; it hadn’t even been a year since that day, and now Twilight really was in control of the Equestrian throne, if only because of Celestia and Luna’s absence (and Pinkie’s tendency to defer to Twilight’s judgement on most matters). Indeed, Twilight Sparkle seemed to be adapting to the stress of a national emergency with great aplomb, as her recently-completed sunset had been impressive enough to cause some members of the Royal Guard to speculate that Celestia had returned.

However, neither the Element-Bearers nor Princess Cadance seemed to have engaged in this sort of reflection, as their attention was on more pragmatic issues. “Darling, is it really safe to leave Discord to his own devices just for you to come here?” Rarity asked as Pinkie Pie pulled a chair up to the table. “We could have simply allowed Penumbra to relay information to you.”

“It would have taken forever for Penny to fly back to Canterlot, though,” Pinkie replied. “My imaginary friend powers let me bring both of us here super fast.”

Before Penumbra could make her usual demand that she not be referred to by that nickname, Cadance jumped in with a response of her own. “That may be the case, but I can’t help but worry about the havoc he might wreak on the Crystal Mountains without somepony powerful enough to keep him in check.”

Pinkie Pie waved a hoof dismissively. “Oh, I don’t think you’ll need to worry about Discord for at least an hour or two. I knocked him out cold before coming here.”

“Really?” Twilight said, looking rather impressed. “How?”

“Well, I sort of caught him off guard. I don’t think he expected me to respond to his interpretive dance with a wheel of stinky cheese.”

Rainbow Dash seemed to be having some trouble visualizing the scenario. “Huh? Why would that sort of thing work on—Actually, you know what? I don’t think I want to know.” This seemed to be the consensus of the other ponies present if only because there were far more pressing matters at hoof.

Fifteen minutes later, everypony was up to speed on the tragic history of the Crystal Empire, the probable whereabouts of Celestia and Luna, and the possibility that The Great and Powerful Trixie was a new variety of thoughtform. Penumbra, in particular, seemed quite worried at this last bit of information. “I shouldn’t have left the Princesses with her,” she said, clearly disappointed that she had underestimated Trixie’s potential danger.

“Not much y’all could have done if you’d stayed,” Applejack pointed out, “especially if you need unicorn magic to break that seal.”

“Now isn’t the time to dwell on what we could have done,” Twilight Sparkle said. “We need to focus on what we’re going to do. From what you’ve all said, it seems to me that Trixie is currently a much bigger threat than Discord—and I can hardly believe that I just said that with a straight face—but if she is truly as ‘Great and Powerful’ as her stage persona and under the influence of a mass-murdering psychopath, then there’s no way we can let her keep Celestia and Luna in her clutches. Their alicorn magic may be able to keep Trixie from killing them, but there are far worse things in this world than death.”

“But what can we even do against her?” Fluttershy asked. “After all, anything we can do, she can do better.”

Twilight closed her eyes and began idly tapping her hooves against the table as she tried to think of some way to address her friend’s concerns. “Well,” she eventually said, “do we know for certain that Trixie knows what she’s capable of?”

“What do you mean, Twilight?” Rarity asked.

“If Trixie doesn’t realize that she’s essentially gained all the abilities of her stage persona, she might not realize that she really can do anything better than we can. I mean, she may have mentioned it during her attack on Canterlot, but she was planning to demonstrate how she was better than me. From the way she reacted to defeating Celestia, she might have assumed that she just got lucky in that regard. She might not think to try what she doesn’t know she can do.”

“Hmm... you might have a point there, Twi,” Applejack said. “On top of that, during her first show in Ponyville, she didn’t really show that she was actually better than anypony. She just used magic to do things a different way and just claimed it was better. That means that if she tries to be ‘better’ than us, it doesn’t mean she’ll do it in a way that’s actually useful to her.”

“But... what if she does?” Fluttershy asked hesitantly. “I mean, we can’t just charge in without a plan and hope that Trixie messes up, can we?”

“Of course we can,” Pinkie Pie said in an oddly cheerful tone. “It just wouldn’t be a very smart idea.”

“That is quite the understatement,” Penumbra said. “So, do you have a ‘smart’ idea of your own, then?”

“Maybe...” Pinkie said, trailing off as she scoured her brain for an interesting idea to toss into the discussion. “Oh! I know! We’ve been saying that Trixie’s better than everypony at everything, but I bet she’s only better than anypony at anything.”

“Isn’t that pretty much the same thing?” Rainbow Dash asked scratching her head.

“Only if Trixie faces us one at a time. If all of us face her at once, I think we have a pretty good chance.”

“I’m not quite followin’ you there, Pinkie Pie,” Applejack said.

“Well, think of it this way: you’re really good at bucking apples, right?”

“Of course.”

“So that means that The Great and Powerful Trixie could be better than you at apple bucking if she wanted to, right?”

“I suppose,” Applejack conceded grumpily.

“And Rarity,” Pinkie said, shifting her attention to the unicorn, “you’re really good at making dresses, so Trixie could probably be better, right?”

“Perhaps,” Rarity answered tersely.

“But how good are either of you at doing both?”

“I dunno,” Applejack said. “Never really thought to try makin’ dresses. With a little practice, I might be good at it.”

“With all due respect, that seems unlikely,” Rarity told Applejack drolly. “And even if it were the case, I doubt you could do both at the same time—I assume that that is where you are headed, Pinkie?”

Pinkie Pie nodded enthusiastically. “Right! Just because somepony’s the best at more than one thing, that doesn’t mean she’ll be able to do all those things well at the same time. After all, I doubt that anypony is very good at making dresses while they’re bucking apples.”

“Okay, that sort of thing might trip her up, but what if Trixie wants to fight instead of putting on a show?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“I’m just using that as an example,” Pinkie Pie said. “Basically, if Trixie tries to fight all of us at the same time, she won’t be nearly as effective, especially if we’re all using different approaches. That’s why I think our best bet is to swarm her and overwhelm her,” she added, spreading her forelegs wide and then smacking her hooves together to illustrate her point, “at least until we can free Celestia and Luna. And who knows? We may even be able to beat her outright, which would certainly make it easier to deal with Discord.”

“Speaking of Discord,” Cadance interjected, “are you just going to let him run roughshod all over the Crystal Mountains?”

Pinkie groaned. “I knew we were forgetting something obvious!” She sighed and started to speculate on a possible course of action. “Okay, how about this... I’ll go back to the Crystal Mountains, and the rest of you can just send Penny when you need me. I’ll just pop in for a minute or two so the Elements can do their thing, and then I’ll head back to Discord.”

“I have two problems with that idea,” Penumbra said. “First, you called me ‘Penny’ again. Second, it’s needlessly complicated.”

“What do you suggest?” Twilight Sparkle asked.

“Pinkie should go with the rest of you to the Badlands. I will handle Discord myself,” Penumbra replied.

“Um, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Fluttershy asked. “Your abilities don’t work the same way as Pinkie and Discord’s, right?”

Penumbra shook her head. “No, but I don’t have to defeat him. I just need to keep him occupied, and I’ve spent the last few weeks doing precisely that. And in any case, I’d only be a liability against Trixie; the last thing we want is for her to get the idea that she ought to be better than me at creating an army.”

——————————

The first thing Luna noticed was a mare’s voice indistinctly chattering somewhere in the distance. The princess did nothing in response, as it took her a few seconds more to remember that she had been doing something previously—attempting to reason with an Ursa Major, or something like that. And now? Now, she was lying on a hard, even surface that felt like polished marble, or perhaps glass. As she continued to regain her faculties, it occurred to Luna that opening her eyes might give her a better sense of what was going on.

Fortunately, there was no painfully bright light to cause her further discomfort—only a reddish glow that seemed to come from everywhere. Luna opened her eyelids wider and raised her head up to look around, only to drop down to the floor again as a massive headache overwhelmed her.

“Luna!” whispered a familiar voice.

Luna’s ears perked up, and she once again lifted her head, this time ignoring the throbbing pain to look towards the source of the sound. “Celestia? Is that you?”

“Keep your voice down,” Celestia hissed. “We don’t want Trixie to hear us.”

Luna complied, dropping the volume of her voice as she rose to her hooves. “Ugh... how long have I been out?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but I think it must have been nearly a day since we were brought here, and you’ve been out cold the entire time. If you were a normal pony, I might have feared the worst.”

Luna began to walk towards her sister as she said, “What does that mean? Did you not think to—ow!” Her question was cut off as she walked directly into a glowing, translucent wall, which, she now realized, was the source of the red light that illuminated the chamber. A glance over at Celestia revealed that she, too, was in a similarly-colored cubical cell. “Force fields?” Luna asked, dropping the volume of her voice once again.

Celestia nodded gravely. “And rather impressive ones, too, especially for a civilian. Perhaps Shining Armor finally got around to publishing that guide that Twilight Sparkle keeps nagging him about.”

Luna, though, wasn’t particularly interested in that sort of speculation. “Where are we?” she asked as she rubbed her bruised muzzle.

Celestia chuckled ruefully. “I can’t blame you for not recognizing it. Trixie’s removed most of your artwork.”

“What?” Luna blinked several times as she once again looked around at the dimly lit chamber. Indeed, there was something familiar about the layout.... Then she saw the crystal throne, and all her memories rushed back to her. “This is our cave.”

“Exactly. That, however, is not very important at the moment. Luna, Trixie has been possessed by Sombra.”

A chill ran up Luna’s spine when she heard the name. “You... you are speaking figuratively, correct? You mean to say that she is behaving like Sombra.”

Celestia shook her head. “If only that were the case. But as much as I would prefer that Trixie’s strange obsession with crystals and precision was nothing more than a sickening coincidence, the physical evidence leaves little room for such doubts.”

“What do you—?” Luna’s question, however, was interrupted by the return of the mare in question, followed by a dozen or so of her Diamond Dog minions. The “physical evidence” that Celestia had mentioned was immediately obvious: a pale violet haze was seeping from her eyes, which were now had deep scarlet irises set against an unearthly bright green sclera.

“Yes...” the would-be despot mused to herself, “‘Agharta’ will be a most appropriate name for The Great and Powerful Trixie’s subterranean empire of Order.”

“Of course, Your Greatness,” said a medium-sized Diamond Dog in a red vest who bowed obsequiously to demonstrate his agreement.

“And once everything’s settled down,” the mare continued, “The Great and Powerful Trixie will be able to—ah, awake, are we?” Trixie had apparently only just noticed that Luna was up and about.

“What have you done with my art?” Luna asked angrily.

“Nothing,” Trixie replied with a sinister smile. “There wasn’t any art in this cavern when The Great and Powerful Trixie found it. There was, however, quite a few examples of unnaturally curved and shaped garbage lying around, so she took the liberty of destroying them and replacing them with proper crystals.” Trixie walked over to a large, nearly transparent icosahedron sitting on a pedestal and lovingly placed a hoof against it. “This one’s her favorite.”

Luna, however, did not share the unicorn’s appreciation. “You insolent little tart! Have you any idea how much effort is required to shaped crystals into curved forms without fracturing them?”

“Just because you wasted a lot of energy making your imperfect trash doesn’t mean it has any artistic value. Is this not true?” she asked her Diamond Dogs.

The Diamond Dogs, however, seemed reluctant to make such a statement within earshot of the princesses. “Er, well...” the red-vested canine said, “we are not usually interested in art...”

This was not the answer Trixie wanted to hear. “Are you saying that you are not enriched by gazing upon the perfect creations of The Great and Powerful Trixie, despite the hours she spent ensuring that every single dimension was absolutely precise?!”

“O-of course we are, Your Powerfulness! It is clearly superior to everything that came before it!”

The raging storm passed almost instantly as the unicorn turned back to Luna. “See? An unbiased, impartial opinion, demonstrating that The Great and Powerful Trixie was right.”

Luna looked over at her sister. “I take it she’s about as reasonable as I was under the Nightmare’s influence?”

“More or less,” Celestia confirmed with a short nod.

“Wonderful,” Luna said as she rolled her eyes.

“Hey!” the unicorn shouted. “Do not speak about The Great and Powerful Trixie as though she is not present! Her benevolent rule of unimpeachable perfection is at hoof, and she will not be ignored!”

Luna ground her teeth angrily and muttered, “When I get out of here...”

If Trixie heard the princess’ threat, she didn’t have time to reply, because a loud blast from near the cave’s entrance rocked the chamber. A minute later, six mares emerged from the front corridor. “Well, there goes the element of surprise,” Rainbow Dash said.

“Sorry, but I didn’t want to waste any time, so I used the strongest spell I could think of,” Twilight Sparkle replied. She was still wearing her tiara, with the Element of Magic prominently set into it. Likewise, her friends all had their respective Elements of Harmony around their necks. “Besides, I don’t think Trixie would have taken that long to notice us,” she added, motioning to the tableau before them.

“The White Devil has returned!” yelped the smallest of the Diamond Dogs as he pointed a shaking finger at Rarity. “We must flee for our lives!” Apparently, many his compatriots agreed, as half of them retreated down the corridor that lead further into the cave system.

“I wasn’t that bad,” said Rarity. Any surprise she might have had upon seeing the Diamond Dogs was completely superseded by her indignation at their rather blatant overreaction to her presence.

Surprisingly, The Great and Powerful Trixie allowed those minions to desert her without much fuss—mostly because she was too busy being infuriated by a far more grievous action. “My sapphire dodecahedron!” she shouted as she galloped across the room to where a gemstone had fallen off its display area to the ground. “It’s been chipped! Your oafish entrance has ruined one of The Great and Powerful Trixie’s finest works!”

Twilight Sparkle looked confused. “But sapphires are one of the hardest of all naturally occurring minerals. There’s no way a fall that short could have chipped it, unless, of course, your magic made it weaker—”

“Silence!” Trixie interrupted as she cradled her afflicted crystal. “Don’t you worry,” she cooed quietly as she gently stroked the injured gemstone. “The Great and Powerful Trixie promises to make everything better.”

“Ha!” Luna shouted triumphantly, “now you know what it feels like.”

The Great and Powerful Trixie wheeled around and glared at Luna. “How dare you compare this tragedy to what The Great and Powerful did! Your unnatural filth was an abomination—a sin against Order itself! You ought to be thanking her for getting rid of it!”

“I will do no such—argh!” Luna collapsed to the ground as bolts of electricity suddenly arced from the walls of her force field cell.

“Thank me, you ungrateful harlot!” Trixie screamed, her voice turning deep and guttural as the attack continued. “Thank me and pray that the forces of Order may forgive you as easily as The Great and Powerful Trixie!”

“Enough!” Twilight Sparkle shouted; to her surprise, there was enough authority in her voice that Trixie actually ceased her assault on Luna. “You’ve gone too far, Trixie; you’ve completely lost your mind. If you don’t get help soon, you’re going to hurt a lot of innocent ponies in your ravings, and that’s just unacceptable. We don’t want to hurt you, but we will if we have to.” As she said this, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Applejack, Fluttershy, and Rarity all spread out along the walls of the chamber, ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

“You would dare to challenge The Great and Powerful Trixie?” the unhinged unicorn said as she turned towards her nemesis. “Very well,” she said as the green glow of her eyes increased in intensity. “Let us end this!”

——————————

Discord was already awake when Penumbra landed in the foothills of the Crystal Mountains, hunched over some sort of model of the surrounding landscape. “Ugh, it certainly took you long enough to get back here, Pinkie Pie,” he said, not bothering to turn around to get a good look at the recent arrival. “I was worried that I’d have to find you to show off my special project.”

“I’ll be sure to tell her all about it once we’re all back in Canterlot,” Penumbra said as she briefly ran a hoof through her black mane and let it fall back over her right eye.

Discord seemed to jump into the air from surprise. “Penumbra?! What are you doing here?”

“Princesses Twilight and Pinkie decided that Trixie needed the attention of all the Element-Bearers. They do need to keep their priorities straight, after all,” Penumbra explained with a malevolent smirk.

Her attempt to goad Discord’s ego worked like a charm. “What?! How on earth could they possibly think that a mere showmare is a more pressing matter than a rogue Spirit of Chaos?”

“Because Trixie is no longer a ‘mere showmare,’” Penumbra replied. “Besides, you haven’t been dismissed as a legitimate threat. That’s why I’m here, after all.”

“Oh, please,” Discord said, waving his paw dismissively. “I’ve just spent nearly a day going head to head against a thoughtform who has almost as much power and versatility as I do. What makes you think you’ll be as worthy an opponent as Pinkie Pie?”

Penumbra said nothing in response, merely cocking an eyebrow as a silent retort. Almost immediately, four dozen Shadowbolts landed behind her, all decked out in reinforced flight suits. The golems stared at Discord from behind their goggles with steely glares, but remained otherwise silent, though one or two pawed the ground with their forehooves, as if they were getting ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

For his part, Discord looked genuinely impressed. “I stand corrected,” he said, looking over his new crop of adversaries with approval. “Also, nice job on timing their entrance.”

“I presume I have your interest, then?”

Discord smiled wickedly as he rose into the air and flashed his claws and talons in the moonlight. “Oh, you had my interest already. Now, you have my undivided attention.” There was a soft rumbling as the ground behind him began undulating and reforming into a completely new landscape. “I cordially invite you to, as the saying goes, bring it on.”

——————————

Everything they could do, she could do better; The Great and Powerful Trixie had already demonstrated this multiple times over the course of the Element-Bearers’ assault. Rainbow Dash’s attempts to use her maneuverability to outflank Trixie were rendered pointless through teleportation. Applejack bucked several boulders at the mage, but Trixie’s magic was more than sufficient to hurl them back from whence they came, though this had the unfortunate side effect of further defacing her crystal structures, several of which were smashed into unrecognizable rubble. The “White Devil” had attempted to levitate several dozen pieces of the resulting debris to make a coordinated attack, but there was no way that anypony was going to improve on The Great and Powerful Trixie’s precision—she easily deflected the projectiles, leaving Rarity open to stinging counterattacks.

Pinkie Pie seemed to be attempting to distract her with a musical number of some sort, but The Great and Powerful Trixie countered with an operatic aria of such grandeur that it put the Royal Canterlot Voice to shame, completely drowning out the pink earth pony’s mediocre bubblegum pop. When Fluttershy had roused a colony of bats to aid her friends, the remaining Diamond Dogs had been more than happy to keep them from interfering (mostly because to their minds the bats were a vastly preferable foe to Rarity). And all the while, “Princess” Twilight Sparkle’s continued attempts to weaken the force fields holding Celestia and Luna had proven to be exercises in futility, as reinforcing the initial magic spells was a laughably simple matter.

And yet... Twilight Sparkle didn’t seem to be shaken by her initial failures to dispel the force fields; she just started gradually increasing the intensity and power of her spells, which soon made it too risky for The Great and Powerful Trixie to devote her magical abilities to anything but counterspells for more than a second or two.

Meanwhile, her other adversaries began to coordinate their effort with surprisingly effective results. Applejack stopped attempting to use rocks as projectiles and instead used her strength to buck Trixie’s crystals into shards, which Rarity then fired at Trixie from every single direction, pausing only briefly to let Rainbow Dash periodically slam her body against Trixie’s so she could drop some some new creepy-crawly cave resident that Fluttershy had recruited to their cause into Trixie’s mane. And to top it all off, The Great and Powerful Trixie couldn’t focus her brilliant mind on coming up with a solution to this multifaceted attack because that stupid pink earth pony wouldn’t stop singing that asinine song about smiling!

This was impossible. She was The Great and Powerful Trixie! And yet, despite the superiority of her abilities, they were the ones who seemed to be gaining the upper hoof. She was now standing on top of her throne, completely surrounded on all sides (including from above, as the two pegasi were hovering over her).

“Don’t worry, Trixie,” she heard Twilight Sparkle say as the gemstone in her crown began to glow. “This is the same purification spell we used to save Princess Luna from Nightmare Moon. Once it’s over, you’ll be back to your normal self.”

But the Great and Powerful Trixie wasn’t just worried—she was panicking. Teleporting to another spot in the cavern would only be effective for a few seconds, and leaving the chamber entirely virtually ensured that Celestia and Luna would be freed. But even worse, something about the way the Elements were glowing filled her with a dread more terrible than any she’d ever experienced, as though a repressed memory was desperately attempting to claw its way out of her subconscious. She was afraid.

But they made you feel this way, a voice in the back of her mind pointed out. And anything they can do...

The Great and Powerful Trixie didn’t know where the spell came from, only that it was suddenly there at the forefront of her mind, clearer than the purest crystal she’d ever made. As the glow from the Elements grew brighter and the six Bearers began levitating in the air, the unicorn knew that she was almost out of time. She gathered up as much energy as she could muster and blindly cast the spell, hoping against hope that her kingdom of perfection might still be saved.

A shrill, raspy scream echoed through the chamber: “Noooo!!” Rainbow Dash fell to the ground as she clutched one of her wings in her forehooves. The purification spell was immediately broken off as the pegasus’ friends gathered around her.

“Rainbow Dash, what is it?” Rarity asked.

But this question hardly seemed to register, because Rainbow Dash’s response seemed to be less an answer to a straightforward question and more an anguished scream of protest at Fate. “Not my wing! Please! It’s... it’s... oh, Celestia, no!”

“But Rainbow Dash, your wing looks fine,” Fluttershy said as gently as she could, but Rainbow Dash seemed to be trapped in her own personal nightmare.

Tears streamed out from behind Rainbow Dash’s clenched eyelids... along with same purplish smoke that continued to seep out of Trixie’s. “I’ll never fly again.... This can’t be happening.... This can’t be happening!”

“It ain’t happenin’, Rainbow!” Applejack said in a strained voice. “C’mon, snap out of it!”

“What did you do to her?!” Twilight Sparkle shouted at the blue unicorn, who initially looked almost as stunned as Rainbow Dash’s friends.

Any surprise on the part of The Great and Powerful Trixie, however, soon gave way to a triumphant, maniacal grin. “You’re about to find out....”

——————————

Penumbra stood on a cloud overlooking the battlefield, observing the struggle through a spyglass. The Shadowbolts seemed to be holding their own against the Spirit of Chaos, if only because Discord seemed content to stay on the defensive from within the hastily-constructed bunker whose design he’d been fretting over when she’d arrived. Occasionally, he would pop out to toss grenades loaded with paint at the mass of indistinguishable pegasi—which turned out to be more effective than Penumbra would have otherwise thought, since the paint was thick and goopy enough to ground several of them when it got on their wings. Still, the Shadowbolts seemed to be making a fair amount of progress demolishing Discord’s assorted defenses with bucks, body-checks, and lightning bolts.

Indeed, the golems had managed to breach the bunker’s final wall and found themselves facing the draconequus directly. Suddenly, Discord whipped out an elaborately-decorated folding screen and ducked behind it for several seconds as various articles of clothing began to fly out in multiple directions, as though they were being haphazardly thrown about in an effort to find a rarely-used cummerbund. Thirty seconds later, he swept the screen into oblivion with a wave of his paw and stood before the assembled Shadowbolts wearing a form-fitting outfit of some unknown shiny black material.

“Ha!” he shouted. “Rubber suit! Let’s see what you turkeys can do against this!” Three dozen lightning bolts later, a vaguely draconequus-shaped pile of ash crumbled to the ground.

Penumbra lowered her spyglass and sighed. “There’s no point in waiting. You’re not going to surprise me.”

In a flash, Discord materialized in front of her with a distinctly consternated look on his face. “How did you do that?” he asked with an irritated sneer.

Penumbra rolled her eyes. “As I’ve told you before, you’re predictably unpredictable. You only did the ‘crumbling to ash’ bit because it was the most amusing way to respond to getting struck by lightning.”

“No, I mean how did they hit me with so many lightning bolts? That was a real rubber suit I was wearing, and it should have repelled all of them. Instead, they all hit me in the face. I’m supposed to be the one pulling off nonsense like that! Your powers are supposed to be limited by common sense.”

“Technically, yes. But Luna’s contingency plans assumed that Celestia’s minions would be capable of ‘bending the rules’ to some degree, therefore my Shadowbolts have somewhat more leeway than I do myself.” As if to back up this point, a half-dozen of the jumpsuited pegasi landed behind Penumbra and stared at Discord with inscrutably neutral expressions on their faces. This, at least, seemed to catch Discord off-guard, as he grew unusually quiet, squinting at some unremarkable spot in the sky as though he was trying to work out the implications of her statement.

Rather than take the opportunity to attack, Penumbra decided to continue the conversation. After all, it had the same effect of keeping him distracted, and there was still a chance that she’d get him to reconsider his actions. “Is all of this really necessary?”

“It wouldn’t be if you had just laughed when I did something funny instead of holding it back! I should have already won our little game at least a dozen times over!”

Penumbra let out a short groan. She didn’t know how Discord had found out about her skill at not-laughing, but at this point, it didn’t much matter. “In truth, you only came close one or two times, and it was never when you were actually trying to make me laugh.”

“So you admit that you cheated!”

“I wasn’t cheating. The whole idea was for you to gain my trust by being my friend, after which I’d be comfortable letting myself laugh around you. That was always the best strategy you could have taken, but it never occurred to you that you might not be able to overwhelm my self-control.”

“So you were basically doing it Celestia’s way the whole time, but dressing it up so that it looked like a game? Since when does a goody-four-shoes try rigging a contest like that?”

“Since when does anyone expect The Nightmare to be a goody-four-shoes?”

Discord opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out—apparently, Penumbra had managed to flummox him for the second time in a five-minute span. “I... hadn’t actually considered that.” Suddenly, the chimera gasped. “That’s the real reason Celestia wanted you to try to reform me, isn’t it? She knew you’d come up with a plan that had all sorts of failsafes built in!”

Penumbra simply looked at Discord with a half-lidded stare. “You’re seriously just figuring that out now?”

Discord didn’t respond to this, instead choosing to continue his own monologue. “I keep underestimating that pony.... Celestia actually found a way to harness your villainous tendencies for good. Awfully clever of her, but then, I shouldn’t have expected any less. After all, she created me....”

Penumbra cleared her throat loudly, if only to remind Discord that she was still present. “I actually tried to drop some hints that making me laugh wouldn’t be as easy as you had obviously assumed it would be, nor did I try to mislead you when I dropped hints unintentionally. That’s why I didn’t try to divert your attention after you heard my real laugh—as it hasn’t changed since my own reformation, I thought you might be able to infer that I might be suppressing it. Apparently, you didn’t think to review all those notes you took at the time.”

“Why would I?” Discord asked. “That was supposed to be a sight gag.” Discord floated over to Penumbra and began slithering through the air around her head, much to the agitation of the still-silent Shadowbolts. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you really were trying to give me a fair shot.”

“You don’t know better,” Penumbra replied evenly.

Rather than answer, Discord floated in front of Penumbra, staring her directly in the eye. Penumbra half-expected him to attempt some sort of mind control magic, but he just kept silently scrutinizing her expression. The pegasus wasn’t sure how long the uncomfortable silence actually lasted before Discord finally broke it: “Thank you.”

Penumbra wasn’t quite sure what to make of this as she watched Discord float out of her personal space. She had never heard the draconequus speak in a more sincere-sounding tone of voice. Eventually, she decided that this meant that the conversation was worth continuing, if nothing else. “Discord, what exactly do you expect to get out of this alliance with Trixie, anyway?”

Discord rolled his eyes so far back that they ended up making a complete revolution, rising into view from the the bottom of his eyelids. “Half of Equestria, obviously, though I don’t know which half yet. I never really got a chance to show these ponies what I could do the last time I was in charge, mostly because they kept griping about how I’d permanently scarred the Everfree region. But with Trixie around for comparison, it’ll be obvious that I’m the more benevolent ruler, and all those pesky counter-revolutions will be nipped in the bud.”

Penumbra raised an eyebrow skeptically. She didn’t quite see how being the lesser of two evils would stop any uprisings, but she didn’t see much point in pressing the matter. “So, you still want to be royalty, then?”

“Oh, there’s no need to go that far.” Discord said as he waved his paw dismissively. “I’ve actually taken a liking to ‘President.’ It sounds more modest, I think. I might even let the Pandelirians fool themselves into thinking that they’re a democracy.”

“Pandelirians?”

“Oh, that’s a nice little name I came up with to refer to my subjects. You see, I’m planning on calling my new domain ‘Pandelirium.’”

“I see... and what, pray tell, does it mean?”

“Who cares? It sounds cool, which is definitely going to be another plus once it’s time for everypony to pick a side.”

“Pick a side?”

“Oh, yes. We figure that if we let individual ponies decide which regime they want to live under, we’ll reduce the total number of malcontents. It’s a simple matter of gathering everypony in a single place and forcing them to choose whether to live in one part of Equestria or the other.”

“I’m sure that’s going to be popular.”

Discord sniffed loudly in disapproval. “You don’t need to be so sarcastic about it. Besides, once everypony realizes that life in Pandelirium is more fun than an octopus riding a unicycle, the immigrants will be arriving in droves! Well, assuming that Trixie lets her subjects leave, that is.”

Penumbra sighed in frustration. For the briefest of moments, she thought that Discord might have been willing to rethink his actions, but it seemed that there would be no such miracles today. She was about to order her Shadowbolts to resume their assault, when Discord spoke up again.

“You are going to choose Pandelirium, right?”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, just out of curiosity,” the draconequus said as a he abruptly broke eye contact and began to absently file the claws on his talon. “You’ll be perfectly free to spend the rest of your days under Trixie’s iron hoof, if you want. Granted, her iron hoof seems a bit dull to me, but some ponies no doubt like enforced conformity.”

“I’m not going to choose either, because the two of you are going to lose!”

Discord snapped his fingers. “Oh, that’s right. You haven’t accepted your inevitable defeat yet. Sorry for getting ahead of myself there, but I’m just so anxious to start setting up my kingdom. But, uh, that being said, have you given any thought to which despot you’ll choose when—sorry, if your noble attempt to preserve the status quo goes down in flames?”

Discord’s refusal to leave this subject now had Penumbra’s curiosity thoroughly piqued. “No, I haven’t,” she said hesitantly. “Why should I?”

“Oh, it’s ever so important that you choose the right dictator for your needs. After all, if you’re going to be oppressed, there’s no sense in being depressed at the same time, which is why it’s important know all of the pertinent facts about your potential overlords. For example,” Discord paused to zip over to Penumbra’s side and whisper conspiratorially in her ear, “Trixie’s not quite right in the head.”

“Neither are you,” Penumbra said, glaring.

“True, but I’m not suffering from any delusions of normality. Trixie, on the other hand, still believes that she’s a rational pony whose behavior is perfectly acceptable to society at large.”

“So, you’re claiming that you’re the better choice because you already know that you’re crazy?”

“And I’m honest about it,” Discord added. “C’mon, it’ll be fun! I’m even willing to give you some special privileges, like being allowed to tell me what you actually think without being thrown in prison. Oh! I could even make you my Secretary of Weather! You’re really into the importance of hoof-made clouds, right? If I let you handle the weather policy, there’s sure to be lots of interesting stuff in the sky—especially since I can completely obliterate any boundaries on your creativity. Water vapor and cotton candy are just the beginning!”

Penumbra didn’t look nearly as excited as Discord at the moment. “Are you offering me a job now?”

“Er, what? No! No, no, no. Don’t be silly. Technically, you haven’t lost yet, and accepting my offer—if it was an offer, which it isn’t—would be treasonous. This is just a theoretical discussion. Besides, who wants to dwell on something as dreary as work? Play is far more interesting, and that’s where Pandelirium is going to tower above whatever passes for entertainment in Trixieland. We could go landsurfing, or humpback riding, or cragodile hunting... oh! And you can have your Shadowbolts form sports teams, and we can put on exhibition matches throughout Pandelirium. Or maybe we can make the world’s biggest cloud sculpture, or—”

“Hang on... you’ve actually made plans to spend time with me after taking over the throne?”

“Well... yeah. I mean, that was back when I thought I could just win our bet and have all of Equestria to myself, but it’s basically the same thing.... Uh, why are you looking at me like that?”

Penumbra stared at Discord with a slightly bewildered expression for a few seconds as the corners of her mouth suddenly started to twitch oddly. Then, all of a sudden, she made a strained, guttural noise in the back of her throat that sounded like a muffled cough. Discord looked as though he was about to ask if she was feeling alright, but Penumbra rendered that question moot almost instantaneously, as she reared her head back and started releasing howling peals of laughter into the mountain air.

Author's Note

If you're a member of the Petriculture Cycle group, you might have noticed that the title of this chapter has changed from when I first posted a thread on the songs that the chapters are named after. Therefore, here's a link to "Hammer and Tongs."

Chapter 1: Where’s the Devil When You Need Him?

Playing with their mutual imaginary friend turned out to be a creative challenge for both princesses. While Luna had very little experience with imaginary friends of any sort, Celestia had never before shared one with another pony. However, after some trial and error, the two sisters had worked out a rather effective system: Celestia would act the part of Quigley, while Luna would devise fantastic scenarios for the draconequus to react to. Still, even though Luna had lost much of her initial skepticism, there were still aspects of Quigley’s personality that confused her, as was evident one midsummer day, when she and Celestia were galloping through the royal gardens, having seized a nonexistent yet powerful artifact from the imagined clutches of an illusory wicked sorceress—with Quigley’s assistance, of course.

Eventually, the two royals slowed to a halt near a statue of their mother beneath a large oak tree. “And that,” Celestia said in the broad, flat, slightly nasal voice she’d developed for their creation, “is why you never give sour eggnog to a three-headed monkey.”

Luna covered her mouth with a hoof in a vain attempt to stifle a giggle. “Well said, Sir Quigley.”

“Oh, you needn’t bother with the ‘Sir’ business,” Quigley-Celestia replied. “All the pomp and ceremony of knighthood would put a serious damper on my fun time.”

At this, Luna grew quiet, causing Celestia to revert to her normal speaking voice. “Does something trouble thee, sister?”

“Well, ’tis no matter of extreme importance, but...”

“...but there’s no reason thou shouldst let thy question go unasked.”

Luna sighed and nodded. “If Quigley is our friend, then why does he speak so formally to us?”

Celestia smirked. “I hardly think that conversations about sour eggnog are ‘formal.’”

“But he never uses ‘thou’ or ‘thee,’ only ‘you.’”

“Ah, well, you see, Quigley is not one to follow any sort of rules, whether they be of logic or of etiquette, and thus has no reason to treat anypony as if their rank matters. He uses the formal pronoun for us for the same reason that he would for the lowliest rustic—because that is what he feels like doing.”

———————————

With the addition of her new fear spell, The Great and Powerful Trixie had become a formidable opponent indeed; even though the Element-Bearers soon figured out how to recover from it, the illusions of their greatest fears still felt incredibly real every time the spell hit one of them, and that was enough to interrupt any attempt to use the Elements of Harmony. Besides that, being repeatedly subjected to these scenes was still emotionally draining; real or not, it didn’t take very long for Applejack to grow weary of attending funerals for her remaining family members, and she suspected that her friends felt the same way.

Nor did it help that The Great and Powerful Trixie seemed to have gotten over any concerns she had about protecting the “perfection” of the cave from collateral damage. She freely mixed blasts of raw magical power in with her fear spells, making it difficult to brace for either one, because there seemed to be no way to anticipate which spell would be loosed each time Trixie’s horn charged up.

Eventually, Twilight Sparkle managed to figure out that The Great and Powerful Trixie was using a complex pattern based on prime numbers—apparently, she would have figured it out sooner, but Trixie had forgotten that “1” wasn’t prime. Unfortunately, actually pointing this error out to a pony who was under the influence of history’s most psychotic perfectionist turned out to be an even bigger mistake. As the sickening green glow of her eyes flared out, Trixie wheeled around and directed her strongest fear spell yet directly at Celestia.

Applejack hadn’t the slightest idea what Princess Celestia’s greatest fear was, but as she watched the most steadfast, resolute pony she had ever met in her life collapse to the ground and listened to the most anguished wails and sobs she’d ever heard, she wasn’t all that certain that she wanted to know what twisted scene was playing out in Celestia’s mind. Neither did Luna’s desperate pleas to her sister insisting that “You are still worthy of their love!” paint an optimistic picture of the scenario.

Indeed, Applejack actually felt a bizarre sense of relief when Twilight instructed them to fall back and regroup, simply because she now had something to dwell on other than the suffering of her princess.

The Great and Powerful Trixie, however, did not seem to think that this retreat was temporary. “Yes... fall back! Call a war council! It will avail you nothing. The Great and Powerful Trixie’s victory is inevitable—she is perfection incarnate!”

———————————

As the peals of Penumbra’s laughter echoed through the Crystal Mountains, Discord at first seemed to have lost the ability to speak. He simply stared at the pegasus with his mouth hanging agape as she collapsed onto her side, holding her barrel as her continued laughter began to interfere with her breathing. “Did... did I just win?”

Penumbra managed to nod her head, but given that her laughter continued unabated, Discord didn’t seem quite ready to celebrate just yet.

“Hang on... is this another loophole? Are you only laughing because it doesn’t matter anymore?”

Penumbra finally managed to control herself long enough to get to her hooves once again. “No,” she said, “our game is still in effect, and you’ve made me laugh without using any mind control. Congratulations, Discord. You’ve won.”

Discord, however, wasn’t smiling. “I may have won, but you know full well that Applejack will never believe that I didn’t cheat.”

“Of course she will,” Penumbra said. “Once she sees that I’m still acting like myself, I’ll vouch for you, and you know she’ll keep her word.”

“Then... I don’t even need Trixie’s help anymore! Without the Elements, there’s nothing anypony can do to stop me!” Discord seemed ready to let loose his own victorious cackle... except that Penumbra’s laughter started up again.

“All right,” he said, with a distinct air of annoyance in his voice, “would you mind telling me what’s so funny about losing?”

“Irony...” Penumbra managed to squeeze out between giggles.

“Huh?”

“I’ve always found irony to be amusing,” Penumbra said as her barrel shook from her efforts to keep her laughter from exploding once again, “and this situation is absolutely drenched in it.”

Discord didn’t quite understand. “So... you’re laughing because your plans failed, despite all the care that you put into making them?”

Penumbra had to take several deep breaths to maintain control of herself before she could answer. “I suppose that’s technically true, but...”

“But what?”

“...but it’s also true that winning won’t let you get everything you want.”

Discord waved his paw dismissively. “Oh, that’s just the sort of nonsense that they feed to foals to keep them obedient. Trust me: winning is, in fact, everything. You’ll be able to see for yourself once Pandelirium is up and running.”

“No, I won’t.”

The draconequus snorted at this rebuff. “Oh, please, you aren’t seriously going to choose Trixie just to spite me, are you?”

Penumbra sniggered for a few seconds before answering. “What makes you think I have a choice in the matter? After all, I’m still technically under Pinkie Pie’s supervision, and she can pull me into her head whenever she wants to. Considering that you’re one of the few people she actively dislikes, do you really think she’ll let me spend any more time around you than is absolutely necessary?”

Apparently, Discord hadn’t considered this possibility, because his eyes suddenly widened in shock. “But you’re forgetting that I don’t need to fear the Elements of Harmony anymore,” he pointed out as a hint of panic entered his voice. He began gesticulating wildly, sending tiny blasts of power around him and causing flowers to sprout from the cloud he and Penumbra were standing on. “I can easily overrun whatever sad-sack government Trixie establishes. Pinkie Pie won’t have any choice but to let us spend time together!”

Penumbra shook her head. “If she thinks you’ll be a bad influence on me—and she will—she can just keep me inside her head indefinitely. More to the point, even though I’ve enjoyed the time I’ve spent with you, I doubt that I would want to live in a world where you’re in charge. I rather suspect that your predictable unpredictability would grow quite stale very quickly. You’re more interesting when you’re reacting to normality, anyway.”

Discord wrinkled his brow in bewilderment. “Penumbra, what exactly are you saying?”

“I’m saying that now that you’ve ‘won,’ there’s no way we’ll be able to spend time together. That is, unless...”

“Unless what?” Discord asked as he defiantly crossed his arms over his chest.

“...unless you actually reform and join our side against Trixie.” Penumbra’s smug, thin-lipped smile radiated gloating superiority.

Discord was utterly silent for several seconds as his eyes darted around, as if searching for some witty retort that could demolish Penumbra’s reasoning, but inspiration eluded him. Finally, after much head scratching and silent gesticulation, he decided to just ask his question right out: “Do you really expect me to give up Pandelirium just because I’ll never see you again?”

“You tell me,” Penumbra replied as she idly waved a hoof, dismissing her Shadowbolts back into the ether. “Well,” she said idly as she started hovering in the air, “I’d better head south to the Badlands to see if we can’t at least salvage the fight with Trixie. It’s been a pleasure getting to know you, Discord.” Penumbra turned her back on the draconequus, and slowly began flying south as she silently counted down the seconds. Five... four... three... tw—

“Oh, no you don’t!” Discord shouted as he popped into the airspace directly in front of her. His face was twisted into an expression of pure exasperation.

“Is there something you wanted to add to the discussion?” Penumbra asked coyly.

“How did you do that?!” Discord shouted, throwing his arms out in exasperation with enough force that they separated from his torso and flew off into the distance.

“How did I do what?” Penumbra replied in a tone of artificial serenity as Discord regenerated a new set of arms.

“You’ve just handed me everything I need to make Pandelirium a reality, and now I’m going to throw it all away just because I’ve never met anypony who’s half as interesting as you are!”

“Ironic, isn’t it?”

“I don’t care how ironic it is! Just tell me how in feathery Tartarus you managed to pull that off!”

Penumbra flew up to Discord and condescendingly patted him on the head. “Why, that’s just the magic of friendship, silly,” she said. “As soon as you let slip that you actually cared about whether or not you could spend time with me when everything settled down, I knew it was safe to laugh again.”

“Because I’m predictably unpredictable?” Discord asked with a glare.

“No, because we’re friends, and friends make sacrifices for each other.”

Discord let out an irritated sigh as he slumped over in defeat. “I guess you’ve got a point. I still can’t believe that ‘friendship is magic’ baloney turned out to be true.”

Penumbra flew to Discord’s side and placed a hoof on his shoulder. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m just as surprised by it as you are.”

“Why?” Discord asked as he twisted his neck to look at his friend. “It was your scheme, after all.”

Penumbra snickered for a few seconds before regaining her composure. “That’s true, but this is the first time one of my schemes actually worked.”

———————————

Obnoxious though it was, The Great and Powerful Trixie’s gloating had two immediate benefits for her adversaries. First, she stopped reinforcing her fear spell, which finally gave Celestia a chance to recover. Second, because the target audience of The Great and Powerful Trixie’s improvised ode to her Greatness and Power was quite obviously The Great and Powerful Trixie, her attention was almost entirely on herself for the whole duration of her soliloquy, which allowed the Element-Bearers to carry out a whispered conversation right under her nose.

Rainbow Dash got straight to the point. “We need a new plan, and pronto.”

Rarity nodded emphatically. “Indeed, if we keep using our present approach, Trixie seems likely to respond by further torturing Celestia and Luna, if only to spite us.”

“I know, I know,” Twilight said as she took several deep breaths in an effort to remain calm. “But how else can we get around Trixie’s ‘anything you can do’ power?”

“Actually,” Pinkie Pie said as she rubbed her pastern against her chin, “that might not be the best way to look at this.”

“What do you mean, Pinkie?” Fluttershy asked.

“I mean that instead of trying to overcome it, we should try to just take it out of the picture altogether.”

“Uh, sugarcube,” Applejack said with a somewhat unsteady voice, “I’m pretty sure that’s what we’re tryin’ to do with the Elements of Harmony.”

“I know that,” Pinkie said calmly, “but there might be other ways to do it.”

“Um, Pinkie?” Rainbow Dash whispered directly into her friend’s ear. “I don’t think we have time for you to throw out a bunch of hints right now.”

Pinkie’s ears flopped downward dejectedly. “Aww... but I like doing that sort of thing. It’s like a really sophisticated guessing game for super-fancy parties.”

“I know, darling, but watching Celestia break down in tears tends to suck all the joy out of a room,” Rarity pointed out.

“Well, I can’t really argue with that,” Pinkie Pie admitted. “Okay, here’s what I think we should do: we should try to convince Trixie to reject her stage persona. Not only will that get rid of her ability to be better at everything than us, it’ll also get rid of Sombra’s influence over her... probably.”

“Whoa, hold up,” Rainbow Dash replied, extending her forehooves into the air. “Don’t thoughtforms have, like, massive rejection issues? I mean, I’ve seen what you’re like when you think that’s happened, and I do not want to make a psycho nutcase like Sombra an even nuttier psycho.”

Pinkie Pie nodded soberly. “I’m not pretending that there won’t be risks, especially since Trixie’s stage persona is sort of a mix between a regular pony and a thoughtform. But I’m guessing that if Sombra wasn’t able to take on a physical form on his own thanks to the Elements, The Great and Powerful Sombra might not be able to, either. Plus, there’s a good chance he’ll be disoriented for a little while if we pull this off, so Twilight should at least have a chance to free Celestia and Luna.”

“Okay, it’s certainly better than nothing,” said Twilight Sparkle, “but how exactly can we convince Trixie Lulamoon to give up being The Great and Powerful Trixie?”

“Well, um, she’s talking about herself right now,” Fluttershy pointed out. “Maybe if we actually listen to her, we can figure out what she really hopes to get out of this, and, um, maybe we can think of a better way to help her get what she wants.”

Rainbow Dash didn’t seem very enthusiastic about this. “Maybe,” she said, rolling her eyes, “but that means that we’ll have to keep her talking about herself until she gives us something to work with, and that means that we’ll have to pay attention to what she’s saying the whole time. There’s gotta be a way to cut to the chase.”

“Hmm...” Pinkie Pie mused to herself as she tapped her chin. “There might be a way. I mean, it worked on Penny....”

Twilight squinted at her friend. “Huh? What are you—oh...” she said as comprehension suddenly replaced confusion. The unicorn nodded vigorously. “You’re right, Pinkie. That probably is our best chance. Would you do the honors?”

“Gladly,” Pinkie replied with a short curtsy.

“What are y’all talkin’ about?” Applejack asked, voicing the confusion evident on the others’ faces.

“Shhh,” Twilight said. “Pay attention, and be ready for anything.”

Pinkie Pie, meanwhile, trotted up to where Trixie was pacing back and forth, extolling the virtues of her own perfection. “Um, excuse me, Miss The Great and Powerful Trixie, but I have a question.”

The Great and Powerful Trixie glared at her inquisitor, clearly annoyed by the interruption. “Make it quick,” she said, taking a defensive stance and charging her magical aura in case this turned out to be nothing more than a distraction for an ambush.

“What are you gonna do?” Pinkie asked with a strangely neutral expression on her face.

Trixie snorted. “The Great and Powerful Trixie is going to defeat you, obviously.”

Pinkie Pie shook her head. “No, I already know what you’re trying to do right now. I want to know what you’re going to do if you win.”

The aspiring despot’s eyes narrowed to slits. “If you had been listening to The Great and Powerful Trixie, you would already know this.”

Pinkie responded with a somewhat embarrassed smile. “Oh. Um, sorry about that. You see, I sort of have a short attention span sometimes...”

Trixie sighed and shook her head dismissively. “She is going to establish a perfect kingdom of order and precision beneath Equestria, and all who wish to escape whatever insanity Discord wreaks upon the surface shall be welcomed as her subjects.”

“Okay, but how are you going to keep them from rebelling if they decide that they don’t like you anymore?”

The Great and Powerful Trixie seemed rather flustered by this question. “What is this nonsense? The Great and Powerful Trixie’s subjects will not rebel against her. She will supply their every need! They wouldn’t dare show disdain for such all-encompassing benevolence; indeed, with Discord’s chaotic anarchy to serve as a foil, the masses will finally shower The Great and Powerful Trixie with the adulation she has always deserved!”

As soon as Trixie said the word “adulation,” Rarity’s ears perked up. “Wait,” she said, “that’s what you want? The affection of the public?”

The Great and Powerful Trixie was so surprised by this question that she instinctively took a few steps backward, as if in preparation for a subconscious “flight or fight” response. “O-Of course. Why would anypony become an entertainer, if not to bring joy to their audience?”

The corners of Rarity’s mouth turned upwards into a barely perceptible smile. “Oh, this explains so much,” she said aloud, ostensibly to herself but well within earshot of everypony else in the chamber. “My dear,” she continued, speaking directly to Trixie once again, “you’ve simply been taking the wrong approach.”

“What?!” Trixie shouted as the glow in her eyes flared, temporarily bathing the room in green light.

Rarity, however, was completely unfazed and continued as if she was speaking with a potential client. “It’s your image, darling,” she said as she approached the blue unicorn and began walking around her, appraising her subject. “This ‘Great and Powerful’ shtick will never endear you to your fanbase.”

“What do you know of entertaining?” Trixie asked indignantly. “You’re a dressmaker.”

“I am a fashion designer,” Rarity corrected, “and fashion is as much about image as it is about fabric.” She wasn’t about to let Trixie divert attention further from her point, and continued on. “You’ve been so focused on your level of skill as a magician that you overlooked one of the most important components of a positive image: likability.”

Apparently, The Great and Powerful Trixie had not given this much consideration before, because the tension in her muscles relaxed somewhat. “What do you mean?” she asked in a tone that mixed trepidation and curiosity in equal parts.

“Well, if you think about it, by themselves, ‘Greatness and Power’ may result in respect, but only in the sense that one shows respect to an angry timberwolf. In fact, I would even venture to say that this is the main reason your first stage show, though admirable in its ambition, failed to connect with your audience. Although they were certainly impressed with the feats you demonstrated, your braggadocio rubbed many ponies the wrong way. That’s why ponies were laughing at you after your humiliation: your audience never had any reason to invest themselves emotionally in your success, because The Great and Powerful Trixie is, to put it bluntly, unlikable. When ponies watch a magic demonstration, they don’t want to be overpowered; they want to be amazed.”

Trixie still looked rather skeptical, but she didn’t raise any specific objections. “What would you suggest for The Great and Powerful Trixie, then?”

“A makeover,” Rarity said firmly, striking the rock floor with her hoof to punctuate her statement.

“What?!” shouted nearly everypony else in the cavern, causing a rather off-putting echo to resound for a few seconds.

“An image makeover, I mean,” Rarity clarified. “Rather than sticking with your current ‘Great and Powerful’ stage persona, you would be better served by dropping it altogether and developing an identity that your audience can relate to. Other entertainers do this sort of thing all the time—in fact, I believe Sapphire Shores has done so twice in the last twelve months.”

“But... but I like being The Great and Powerful Trixie....” The fact that Trixie had actually referred to herself in the first person did not escape the other ponies in the chamber, who seemed to recognize this as a sign of progress.

“Well, you wouldn’t have to completely abandon being impressive,” Twilight Sparkle pointed out. “You’d just be pushing that aspect of your act to the background so some other personality trait can take center stage.”

“Yeah,” Pinkie added with an enthusiastic nod. “Instead of being all, ‘Trixie is better than you,’ you’d be more like, ‘Check out this cool thing I can do!’”

“Right,” Applejack said. “Instead of bein’ over-the-top and flashy, you could demonstrate how your magic can make a really complicated job simpler. I reckon a down-to-earth approach like that would really have a lot of appeal to country ponies.”

“Actually, you know what would be really impressive?” Rainbow Dash said as she lifted herself into the air. “Doing amazing things without using unicorn magic at all. I mean, like an escape artist or something. You could be all tied up, and your audience would be thinking, ‘Oh, she’s just going to use her magic again,’ but then you’d get free on your own and they’d be thinking that you’re not just a really good magician, but you’re a really talented pony in general.”

“Um, I think I might be able to help you with that,” Fluttershy meekly volunteered. “I mean, I’m really good with animals, and that’s usually thought of as an ‘earth pony’ trait, so a lot of ponies are really impressed when they find out I’m a pegasus. I bet if a unicorn did the sorts of things I can do, an audience would find it fascinating, so, um, maybe I can help you incorporate some live animals into your act.”

Even Luna was joining in, despite the fact that she hadn’t been privy to the Element-Bearers’ strategy session: “You could show your audience wondrous images and spectacles that can inspire their dreams, motivating them to better themselves, rather than leaving them to feel inferior to you.”

As the various suggestions and offers of assistance continued to pour out, Trixie’s hardened, skeptical expression began to soften, and the harsh green glow from her eyes became noticeably subdued. They did have a point, after all. She hadn’t become a showmare so she could demonstrate her superiority over other ponies; she’d just always assumed that she needed to do so in order to evoke the same sense of awe and wonder that she’d felt the first time she saw Copperfield’s show as a filly. But now that she thought of it, her inspiration had never actually claimed to be intrinsically better than anypony in his audience—in fact, when she had approached him to ask for his autograph he’d told her that anypony could achieve the success he enjoyed if they worked hard and put their mind to it. That was the moment that she’d decided to be an entertainer... but somehow, in the midst of her hard work, she’d lost sight of this. Trixie Lulamoon didn’t want to be better than everypony else... she wanted to be adored, and more importantly, she wanted to deserve that adoration.

“You’re right,” she finally said after some consideration. “I won’t really be able to get what I want by being The Great and Powerful Trixie. I think it’s time I started over with a clean slate.”

No sooner had Trixie said this than a blinding flash of green light filled the chamber, accompanied by an ear-splitting crack that sounded like a cross between shattering glass and a breaking bone. By the time the light subsided, Trixie had been shrouded in purple smoke so thick that she could hardly be seen through the haze. Before anypony could call out to her, a deep, gravelly, and most definitely male voice boomed out from the miasma. “No! This is unacceptable! My perfect Kingdom of Order is at hoof, and ’tis not thy place to discard it for mere celebrity. Providence hast ordained thee as my vessel, and thou art mine!”

“And thou art a total dweeb!” shouted a flat, nasal tenor in reply. Before anypony could react to this new voice, a beam of light shot out of the chamber’s rear entrance, striking the ethereal vapor and knocking it into a corner and away from Trixie, whose eyes returned to their original violet-on-white color before she collapsed unconscious onto the ground.

The other ponies finally looked towards the source of the blast and saw Discord leaning against the wall, casually blowing smoke away from the tip of his smoldering talon. But before any of them could react to Discord’s apparent betrayal of his ally, another familiar face stepped into the room, with an equally familiar disgruntled expression on her face.

“Did you seriously insist that we subdue that entire pack of Diamond Dogs just so you could make a dramatic entrance?” Penumbra asked as she glared at the draconequus.

“Oh, don’t you get all high-and-mighty on me,” Discord retorted, pointing a claw in the pegasus’ direction for emphasis. “You insisted we waste time, too, after all.”

Penumbra’s scowl remained unchanged. “Teleporting back to Ponyville so you could release the Crusaders was not a waste of time; it was a demonstration of good faith.”

“Uh, excuse me?” Rainbow Dash called out. “Could you two stop bickering and tell us what’s going on here?”

Discord sighed and rolled his eyes. “Okay, here’s the short version: I technically won the bet by making Penumbra laugh,” he said, speaking in clipped tones to get through his explanation as fast as possible, “only to discover that Celestia’s oft-repeated ‘friendship is magic’ idea was not, as I had previously assumed, a load of utter crap, and that I’d rather be Penumbra’s friend than have the freedom to indulge my every whim. In other words, I’m on your side now.”

“Is this true?” came Celestia’s voice as she slowly got to her feet. Her eyes were still red and watery, but a hopeful wisp of a smile had begun to emerge from the corners of her mouth. “Have you really returned to us, Quigley?”

The draconequus grinned kindly as he walked over to the force-field containing his creator and leaned against it. “Well, I still prefer to be called ‘Discord,’ but otherwise, yes.” He looked like he had much more to say, but he was cut of by an angry growl from Sombra’s nebulous remains. He let out an irritated sigh and rolled his eyes. “Sorry, Celestia, but we’ll have to postpone the reunion until we finish taking care of Captain Smokestack.”

“This is not over!” shouted Sombra’s guttural voice from inside the murk, which floated into the center of the room. “Tremble at your fates, for The Superior and Flawless Sombra shall not show mercy unto you!”

Discord, however, was unfazed by this threat. “Superior, huh? Then why did you need my help to get where you are now?”

“Thine assistance was accepted solely to expedite my goals. Thou art ultimately unnecessary.”

“Is that so? Well, I say you should put your money where your mouth is... or where it would be if you still had one. I challenge you to prove your superiority in a magic duel.”

“Why should The Superior and Flawless Sombra give a damn about besting an irregular freak?” the miasma said as it floated aggressively in the air.

Discord chuckled condescendingly. “Oh, I’m sorry—it seems I’ve made a mistake. You see, I was under the impression that you were planning on ruling your domain according to the principles of perfection.”

“’Twas no mistake! My incomparable precision shall serve as a beacon of enlightenment for all of my subjects.”

“Don’t make me laugh,” Discord replied with a sneer. “Why would anypony think you could be worthy of ruling such a kingdom if you can’t overpower a being of pure, unadulterated chaos? It can’t be a kingdom of perfection unless it is ruled by the very best pony.”

“I am the very best pony!” Sombra roared.

“Then prove it,” Discord said. “In the past, I have been defeated by eight of the ponies standing in this chamber. If you can’t even best me in a mere competition, that would objectively demonstrate that they are more fit to rule your proposed kingdom than you are.”

The black cloud said nothing; it was difficult to guess what this might mean, but it seemed as though it was seriously considering Discord’s point. “What are the terms of this competition?”

“Standard one-upping. I will perform a feat, and you shall attempt to outdo me in response. I then attempt to outdo you, and we keep going until one of us is unable to demonstrate his superiority.”

There was a pause lasting for several more seconds before Sombra rumbled his answer: “Agreed.”

“Excellent,” Discord said as he rubbed his paw and talon together in anticipation. He turned to the other ponies in the room. “Would you ladies mind moving to the walls so we have more room to work with?”

As Penumbra and the Element-Bearers nervously complied with this request, Sombra let out a satisfying chuckle. “My victory is inevitable,” he said. “Any feat thou couldst possibly perform would be paled by mine excellence.”

“You could very well be right,” Discord said with a wicked grin. “Shall we begin?”

“Yes,” Sombra said. “Attempt thy feat.”

Discord cracked his knuckles. “Okay, why don’t we start out with one of the classics?” he said as he snapped his talons causing a cotton candy cloud to appear and begin dropping chocolate rain on the cave floor for about ten seconds before Discord snapped it away again.

“What manner of feat was that supposed to be?” Sombra shouted.

Discord held up his hands in mock protest. “Why, I was just creating a little chaos, of course. What else did you expect me to do? Now, I believe it’s your turn.”

Sombra, however, did not seem willing to accept this line of reasoning without protest. “This is absurd!” he growled menacingly.

“Yes, it is,” Discord said with a dismissive wave of his paw. “That’s sort of the point. Your turn.”

The shadowy cloud started pulsating—slowly at first, but gradually increasing in speed as nothing continued to happen in front of it, giving the distinct impression that Sombra was... hyperventilating, for lack of a better word. “No,” he finally declared. “I refuse to acknowledge this inanity. You shall now attempt thine actual feat, or concede victory to me.”

“Did you hear that, ladies?” Discord said to the onlookers. “He refuses to acknowledge my opening salvo because he can’t do it better than me.”

“I can do it better!” Sombra insisted. “But I will not! I am the paragon of Order, and I will not degrade myself with this anarchic foolishness!”

Ignoring these declarations, Discord began joyfully bouncing around the nebula, singing a playground taunt: “He can’t create cha-os! He can’t create cha-os! I’m better than Sombra! I win the ga-ame!”

“The whole point of this contest was to prove that my worthiness to rule my Kingdom of Order! Insisting that I cause chaos is unacceptable. Now begin this contest, or forfeit!”

The audience, however, was not even remotely sympathetic to Sombra’s plight. “Hmph,” Luna grunted. “Some ‘paragon of order’ he is. He can’t even reason himself out of a paradox.”

“Yeah, that’s just pathetic,” Rainbow Dash agreed. “When we beat Discord, we overcame his dirty tricks instead of throwing a tantrum and insisting that he start over. Guess that means we’re better at beating him than Sombra is.”

“Eeyup, that sounds right ta me,” Applejack said with a nod, doing everything she could to repress the smile that threatened to burst onto her face. “Looks like we’ll be the ones rulin’ down here. Better start designin’ some extra tiaras, Rarity.”

“Silence!” shouted the black cloud. “I am the Superior and Flawless Sombra, and my supremacy is beyond question!”

“Then prove it,” Penumbra said. “Create some chaos. If you’re as attuned to order as you claim, you should have no problem figuring out how to remain unsullied.”

No one present had ever seen a disembodied cloud exhibit confusion before, but the brief buildups of Sombra’s magical aura that kept being cut off before a spell was actually cast certainly gave that impression. When Sombra finally spoke again, his tone was one of complete disbelief. “I... I cannot do it....”

A cheer erupted from the audience as Discord paced in front of his defeated foe. “Well,” he said, “I guess that means that they’re better than you at defeating me, so you have no business trying to take over. Don’t feel too bad, though; we have some lovely parting gifts for you, including a state-of-the-art blender, a copy of our home game, and a year’s supply of Oats-A-Roni, the San Flankcisco treat—”

“No!” Sombra shouted. “This is no fault of mine. I only failed because I am trapped in this accursed mutable form. If I had a body... a solid body... a perfect body....” Sombra trailed off as the cloud suddenly contracted, vaguely resembling a cat preparing to pounce on its prey. Suddenly, the force fields surrounding the princesses collapsed, and the billowing mass surged directly towards Celestia. The white alicorn was too surprised to jump out of the way—but she didn’t have to.

In retrospect, it wasn’t clear whether Discord had made a decision to act or had reacted instinctively, but the fact remained that he jumped in front of Celestia, causing Sombra to enter the draconequus instead. For several seconds, the chimera twisted and contorted into every shape imaginable (and several shapes that weren’t) before he finally slumped against a wall.

Penumbra approached the draconequus cautiously. “Discord? Are you... alright?”

“Oh, boy, that was not a good idea,” Discord groaned as he clutched his chest. “Worst heartburn ever...”

Penumbra placed a hoof in over his paw. “But... but Sombra....”

“Right... about him. I’ve got good news and bad news. The good news is that he is currently trapped in my head, rattling off a stream of the most creative curses I’ve heard in years. I don’t think you’ll have to worry about him for the moment.”

“And the bad news?” Celestia asked as she walked over to her imaginary friend.

“The bad news is—” Discord’s reply suddenly devolved into white noise as his body began to flicker erratically. “Oh, dear,” he said. “It’s ha...ing sooner than I th...”

“What?” Penunbra said, a look of panic coming over her eyes.

“Order an... ...aos... ...nceling each other ou...” Discord replied with a smile. “Is this ...ronic?”

“No!” Penumbra shouted at the unstable chimera. “I mean, yes, but it’s not the funny kind of irony! Discord, you need to let Sombra back out.”

Discord seemed to consider this for a few seconds, but he shook his head again. “Nah... care of him n... ...rth it to get rid of the obnoxious little b...” By now, Discord was visibly fading away, even as he continued to flicker in and out of reality. He turned towards Celestia. “S...ry, b... ...ve that reu...n later.”

Somehow, Celestia managed to hold back her tears; her intuition told her that Penumbra needed somepony else to show emotional strength. “I’ll hold you to that, my friend,” she said with a smile. Seconds later, a sound like the crack of a thawing ice floe filled the cavern, and Discord disappeared in a blinding white flash.

———————————

The sun was peeking over the horizon as the ponies exited the cave into the canyon-scarred landscape of the Badlands. Luna glanced over at her sister, who had just extinguished her yellow aura. “A bit early, don’t you think?” she asked.

“Indeed it is,” Celestia replied, “but right now, I’d say we all could use some sunshine.” She looked over at the other ponies, who had unanimously decided to stop and silently take in the view—with the obvious exception of Trixie, who was draped over Applejack’s back, still unconscious. Still, at the moment, Celestia’s concern was mostly directed at one of those ponies. After all, the Duchess of Everfree had been closer to Discord than anypony besides the Royal Sisters, and she had no previous experience with the sting of loss.

At the moment, the dark blue pegasus was sitting near the edge of a precipice, with Pinkie Pie by her side. Celestia and Luna walked over and quietly joined them for several minutes. Eventually, it was Luna who broke the silence with the inevitable question: “Will you be alright, Penumbra?”

Penumbra slowly exhaled and ran a hoof through her mane, allowing it to tumble back over her right eye. “I believe so,” she said, turning to show a bittersweet smile. “I mean, it does hurt, but I can’t possibly imagine Discord would want me to mope around.”

Celestia, however, looked concerned. “You are welcome to speak with either of us should you need a friendly ear,” she said. “Luna and I do have more positive memories of him than the others, after all, so there’s no need to hide the pain of his loss.”

Penumbra replied with a weak smirk. “Are you so certain he’s lost? Misplaced, perhaps, but to say he’s lost... well, that implies a sense of permanence that only a fool would attribute to Discord.”

The concern in Celestia’s voice increased slightly. “Penumbra, you can’t simply live in denial of what’s happened.”

“I’m not in denial,” Penubra said. “I just don’t see why I should assume anything about what’s happened to him. After all, he’s never had to follow the rules before, so why should anything in the next world pose an obstacle for him?”

“You think he’ll return, then?” Luna asked, cocking her eyebrow in mild skepticism.

“I have no idea,” Penumbra admitted. “I suppose it all depends on whether or not the world beyond is orderly or chaotic. I am certain of this, though: if he does decide to return, he won’t show up unless nopony expects it.” By the end of this statement, Penumbra’s voice finally cracked, and tears ran down her cheeks.

Pinkie Pie wrapped a foreleg around her friend’s shoulders and smiled gently. “Don’t worry,” she said softly. “Everything’s going to be alright.”

The tears choked out Penumbra’s reply, so she simply hugged Pinkie Pie as tightly as she could.

Luna and Celestia walked away from the pair, sensing that Pinkie Pie could handle the situation. Besides, they had their own feelings to work through. “You know,” Luna finally said, “at the end of the day, I am glad that our friendship with Discord was restored, however briefly.”

Celestia sighed as she watched the morning sun’s rays begin to light up the canyons. “Well, wherever he is now, I hope he’s having fun.”

Prologue: Everything I Ever Wanted To Do...

Celestia was hardly surprised to find her sister in the Royal Library, surrounded by books, scrolls and arcane codices. Luna had been studying at a fevered pitch ever since the Element of Magic had selected her as its bearer; apparently, the younger alicorn had shared the widespread assumption that that honor would be bestowed upon her more powerful sister, and she was most eager to demonstrate that this had not been a fluke.

“Hast thou been so engrossed all day, sister?” Celestia spoke aloud, causing Luna to jump in surprise, nearly upending her carefully constructed stacks of scholarly musings.

The younger princess took a few seconds to collect herself before she acknowledged her sibling’s presence. “Sister! I did not notice thine arrival.”

“That is manifestly true,” Celestia agreed, “though I suspect that thou wouldst be hard-pressed to notice a brigade of griffons while enraptured by thy studies.”

“The Elements of Harmony are worthy of my attention,” Luna replied with mild indignation. “I am convinced that they are not merely magically-imbued ornaments meant to designate ponies who exemplify their respective attributes, but rather artifacts of considerable and heretofore untapped power. If my theory proves correct, they may be of much use to us in the future.”

“Be that as it may, I can not help but wonder if thou wouldst not benefit from the occasional amusement.”

“I’ll have thee know that my studies provide me with considerable mental stimulation and enjoyment,” Luna said with a glare.

“Did I claim otherwise?” Celestia asked rhetorically. “But thou hast never yet considered branching out to other forms of stimulation.”

“I presume thou hast an example at the ready?”

“Well, nay, but allow me some moments to mull over the quandary, and I shall give thee such an example.” Celestia screwed up her muzzle as she pondered an appropriate answer for her intellectually-minded sister. Soon, she had devised one: “Ah, of course! Thou mayest improve thy creative abilities by envisioning a character with whom thou might interact in thy mind’s eye.”

Luna, however, saw through her sister’s attempt to use wordiness to conceal her true motives. “An imaginary friend? Celestia, I am two-and-twenty years old.”

Celestia smiled mischievously. “’Tis true that thou art two-and-twenty years of age, but thou hast behaved as a full-grown mare for nineteen of them. Need I remind you that we are alicorns? We have centuries to comport ourselves as adults. Thou wilt not always have the luxury of a life without burdens or cares, and I shall not sit idly by as my sister ignores the opportunities of fillyhood.”

Luna scowled at her sister, but she’d seen that smile many times before, and she knew that her best course of action for the moment was to play along with her sister’s whimsy. “Very well. I shall imagine a friend—a tall, white pegasus stallion of few words wearing military regalia.”

Celestia smirked. “My dearest sister, thine ‘imaginary’ friend sounds very much like the guard who is currently posted outside the library door.”

“Hmm... why, so he does. I suppose that makes this exercise superfluous, does it not? Well, if there are no further objections, I shall return to—”

“Oh, but I do object. Thou hast not created a friend adequate enough to satisfy my conviction that thou needest more frivolity and escapism in thy life. Fortunately, I foresaw this possibility, and I am prepared to assist thee in the creation of a proper companion.”

“My most gracious thanks are in order,” Luna remarked with more than a hint of sarcasm as she rolled her eyes. “What sort of hypothetical pony doth thine expertise recommend?”

“Oh, there is no need for us to limit ourselves to ponies,” Celestia said. “In fact, I believe our friend should be... a draconequus,” the white alicorn stated after a second or two of musing.

This suggestion appeared to pique Luna’s interest, as she finally set down her research and appeared ready to engage in a proper conversation. “A draconequus? I have never heard of such a creature. What manner of beast are they? How do they appear? Are they essentially equine in nature, or have they more in common with dragon-kind?”

“In truth, I do not know, for I have just invented the word,” Celestia replied matter-of-factly. After further consideration, the princess qualified her initial idea. “He could be a chimera of some sort—perhaps he is a shapeshifter.”

“He?” Luna asked, even more confused than ever.

“Yes, I think our friend should be male,” Celestia answered. “But soft! Thou art being deprived of a chance to contribute by my giddiness. I think thou shouldst name him.”

Luna sighed. “Very well. I shall locate the most recent census records for inspiration.”

“Oh, thou needn’t take such measures!” Celestia replied with a hearty laugh. “After all, our friend is not a pony, and he therefore does not require a pony name. Luna, thou hast the most brilliant mind and the sharpest wit in all of Equestria; surely thou art able to produce a name from thy imagination.”

The blue alicorn clearly disagreed, but she was not about to dismiss such praise for her intellect by arguing. After a few seconds of silence, she finally forced out a word: “Quigley.”

“A most intriguing choice. Pray, what does it mean?”

“It means nothing,” Luna said, with an obvious air of defeat in her voice. “It is completely devoid of meaning, being little more than a string of sounds crammed together by my desire to accede to thy request.”

“I think it is perfect,” her sister said with utter sincerity. “A nonsensical name for a nonsensical creature. Oh, Quigley shall provide us with much amusement.”

“Thou truly thinkest so?” Luna asked, her skepticism now softened by curiosity.

“Of that, I feel most certain,” Celestia replied, “though his full nature still requires much refining. Come, my sister. Let us make ourselves a friend.”

——————————

Penumbra let out a deep sigh as she paused in front of the door to her home, having elected to return to Pinkie’s mind rather than physically travel back to Canterlot with the others. Despite her efforts to inject as much optimism as she could into the remarks she’d made to her friends, it didn’t change the fact that Discord’s departure, permanent or otherwise, was far more bitter than sweet. Like so much about the draconequus, even his end was bizarre; he and Penumbra had been “officially” friends for less than an hour, yet the pegasus could not shake the feeling that she’d lost something irreplaceable.

That was why she’d returned to Pinkie’s head. The others... well... except for Luna and Celestia, they seemed rather hesitant to believe that Discord had really had a last-minute change of heart. But that wasn’t their fault. They just needed time to sift through everything that had happened—and Penumbra needed to accept that, in all likelihood, she’d never see her friend again. Yet, as she opened her door and walked into her kitchen, this seemed to be an all but unattainable goal.

As Penumbra closed her door behind her, this vague feeling of hopelessness was suddenly replaced by an absolute certainty that she would never truly be able to fully accept her friend’s demise, largely because at that moment Discord was standing in front of her open refrigerator, rummaging around for ingredients to add to the absurdly-tall open-face sandwich that he had balanced precariously on his paw.

For several seconds, Penumbra stared slack-jawed at the chimera while her nose wrinkled up as if she’d walked right into the stench of rotten eggs. “Discord?! What... why... how on earth did you get in here?!”

The draconequus chuckled in delight as he added a generous portion of sour cream to his sandwich and swallowed his creation in a single gulp. “Isn’t it obvious? As you’ve said many times before, I’m predictably unpredictable, so I did exactly what you said I’d do in your impromptu eulogy. Very moving, by the way. I’m quite touched.”

Penumbra stamped her hoof against the floor and glared angrily at Discord. “I was just indulging in poetic imagery in an effort to bring about some emotional closure!”

“That doesn’t change the fact that it was a really good idea, especially the part about returning when nopony expected it—and from the look on your face, I’d say I nailed that part perfectly. Though now that I think of it, I suppose this means I was actually unpredictably predictable this time around.”

For a brief moment, Penumbra considered staying angry at Discord, but she was so relieved to see him again that she was barely able to hold on to her usual level of cynicism. However, his presence did raise a rather obvious question. “What about Sombra?”

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about him,” Discord said. He casually opened a carton of milk and drained its contents (both milk and cardboard) into his mouth before continuing. “He’s still back at the Void.”

“The Void?”

Discord nodded. “Yeah, we didn’t end up in the afterlife, because neither of us actually died. Like I tried to explain to you, we basically just canceled each other out due to the whole ‘Order vs. Chaos’ thing and ended up in a featureless expanse of nothing. It’s a nice place to visit, but I don’t think I’d want to live there, especially if it means having to continually listen to Sombra whine about his self-imposed existential crisis.”

“Huh?”

“Basically, unless you put all of your mental effort into it, you can’t exist in the Void. Naturally, I immediately jumped at the chance to try out nonexistence, but Sombra... well, he seems to really value his sentience. I guess I sort of understand his problem, though, seeing as how he has a pathological need to make sense, which means that if he gives out and slips away, he won’t be coming back.”

Penumbra nodded. “Whereas you don’t have to worry about being logically consistent, so you could retain your sapience despite your lack of a form or sentience, giving you an anchor to reality.”

“Not really. I just decided to come back so I can give intellectual types like you massive headaches.”

“What? You decided? But if you weren’t sentient, how could you...”

Discord smirked. “See what I mean?” he said, gesturing towards Penumbra to further illustrate his point.

“Not really, but I can see why you find it so amusing. I presume you’ll be off to do the same to Twilight and the others?”

“Naturally,” Discord replied with a nod, “but not yet. I need to wait for the perfect opening for my re-reintroduction to Equestria. So... is it okay if I stay here for a while?”

Penumbra sighed. “I doubt it. This is Pinkie’s head, after all, and she won’t be happy when she learns you’re in here. She doesn’t like you very much.”

“Oh, I’m well aware of that. She told me so flat-out when she let me in here in the first place.”

Penumbra could hardly believe her ears; somehow, on top of everything else, Discord had found a way to be unpredictably unpredictable. “She knows you’re here? And she’s okay with it?!”

“Of course. She may not like me, but thanks to your little speech, she also knows that I’m important to you, and she’s your friend as much as I am. Plus, there’s no way she’d ever let personal feelings stand in the way of the most epic prank since... well, since the last time I played an epic prank. Besides, didn’t she just tell you that everything was going to be alright fifteen minutes ago?”

Penumbra slowly rocked her head from side to side as she thought this over. “She did sound a little bit more confident than I would have expected when she said it,” she eventually admitted.

Discord floated behind Penumbra and rubbed her shoulders as he quietly spoke directly into her ear. “So, how about it, Penny? Can I stay at your place for a while?”

“I don’t know...”

“Oh, come on! I gave up a chance to rule Equestria again so I could spend time with you. Do you really think I’ll squander our friendship by being a bad houseguest?”

Penumbra finally lost her her struggle to maintain her usual grumpy demeanor and cracked a smile as she rubbed the back of her head. “No, I don’t,” she admitted in a kindly tone that sounded equally awkward and sincere. “You can stay as long as you need.”

“Thanks, Penny,” Discord said as he flopped onto a couch in the living room and opened the copy of The Life and Times of Ahuizotl the Magnificent that had materialized in his paw. “You won’t regret this,” he said confidently, flashing his snaggletoothed grin and winking at his hostess. “I promise.”

“You say that as though I didn’t already believe you,” the pegasus said as she sat in an armchair and opened a magazine. “Oh, and Discord?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t call me ‘Penny.’”

Author's Note

When I started writing this story, I had every intention of killing off Discord. However, that changed somewhere around the time I published Chapter 9 or 8; by then, I'd realized that Penumbra's eulogy (which was more or less developed in its entirety during the prewriting stages) described exactly what Discord would actually do in this situation, and I couldn't think of an acceptable reason for him not to go through with it. Penumbra's reaction in this prologue is not too far removed from the one I initially had when I realized that my attempt at "feels" was going to be undercut.

In any case, The Petriculture Cycle is finally done. I really never expected anything like this to happen when I first posted that one-shot about "rock farming" nearly two years ago; there was no expectation that it would become so popular, nor was there any intention of expanding it into a complete story cycle. For that, I have to thank you, my readers.

I also need to thank my many, many prereaders, both past and present, all of whom have helped me tell this story at some point. The only reason I don't list them out here is because I'm afraid I'll forget one. Special thanks go to Blackbelt and Page Turner, though, for proofreading the prologue and keeping the fact that Discord would actually survive secret from the others until the last minute.

So, am I saying goodbye to this AU I've created? ~~Well, as a writer, perhaps.~~ Nope. The Cycle may have ended, but the story continues.

I'm happy to help out anyone interested in writing continuations, side-stories, or other forms of recursive fanfiction. If you have questions about the Petriverse, you can send me a PM, or, preferably, post a thread in the forum at The Petriculture Cycle group, and I'll try to answer them as best I can.

In addition to all my fan fiction, I've also got an original short story. It's called "The Empty Hand," it features cosmic horror in the Boston underworld, and it's currently available in eBook form on Amazon:

Amazon.com
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For anyone who would rather support me for my pony-related content, I also have a Patreon.