HUMAN in Equestria: A Conversion Bureau Story

Chapters

3. A Death In The Masada
4. Very Naughty Indeed
5. The Long Way 'Round
6. Fear And Desire
7. Sticks And Stones
8. The Court Of Sun And Moon
9. The Six New Mornings - Seraphina
10. The Six New Mornings - Petra
11. The Six New Mornings - Asher and Milo, Part One
12. The Six New Mornings - Asher and Milo, Part Two
13. The Six New Mornings - Asher and Milo, Part Three
14. The Dust Of Four Years
16. The Six New Mornings: Ghosts And Flowers, Part Two
17. Epilogue: What A Piece Of Work Is A Man!
1. The Pony In The Garden
2. A Curiously Unsettling Breakfast
15. The Six New Mornings: Ghosts And Flowers, Part One

3. A Death In The Masada

The Conversion Bureau

HUMAN

in Equestria
By Chatoyance

A Death In The Masada

Warren Rensselaer was in a hurry. Stefan was in a tizzy about something or another and had called a big meeting at the Muleskinner. The country club was the usual place that the men of the Human Masada ended up at during the day, but Stefan had reserved the great hall and that was truly unusual. Even with the earth gone, even with the materiality of their empires vanished forever, the hierarchy of the Good Families remained. Bettencourt was the top dog of the pack when the earth finally fell, and he was still the top dog even here, in exile.

Warren's morning had been a struggle. He had slept in, which he normally never did. When he had turned seventy, despite taking the best anagathics available, he had begun to start waking early and going to bed early. Warren had always been a night person, but he had suddenly developed the sleeping patterns of the elderly. It had greatly annoyed him - weren't all those fancy nanotech anti-aging treatments supposed to, well, slow down aging?

There wasn't any nanotech in this twisted horse world. Warren wasn't about to let some mule of a unicorn play witch doctor on him, no matter what that pony princess said. The fact was, though, that since the Good Families had moved to the new world, Warren had been feeling his age once more. A lot of the older members felt the same.

All of this aging nonsense was nothing a little determination and effort couldn't cure though. Warren had risen late, but he had attended to all of his morning requirements. He had eaten properly, done a proper job in the outhouse, and then performed his personal routine of exercises.

Warren had developed them himself. The quacks back on old dead earth wanted him to act like he had both feet in the grave. To take things easy. That was the surest way to end up feeble! Warren began his day with sit-ups and finished the morning routine with push ups. Vigorous push ups, dammit, like a man should do.

He would get another double-strength coffee at the Club. Sip it while listening to whatever Bettencourt had come up with. At least they had coffee in this godforsaken...

Something had hit Warren Rensselaer in the face. He tried to understand what had happened. As far as he could tell, he had walked into a wall. Dammit. He hadn't been paying attention. That was unforgivable, a successful man always pays attention to everything.

Wait. That was no wall. It was the ground. Warren tried to get up, but he couldn't. There was a rushing sound, like a waterfall in his ears. It kept getting louder and louder. He could hear the pounding of his heart over the hiss, but it wasn't regular. The beat was random, it made no sense.

Dammit, that cursed Celestia had fallen down on the job. She'd let the sun fall down. It was all dark. Whoever let a god-damn pon

"That is not good enough!" Nikolai Astor jabbed a finger at the gigantic figure. "We know how long your ponies live! Three hundred years! Are you serious?"

Celestia, princess of Equestria, Diarch of the Sun, sat on a padded, golden plinth. Whatever Stefan Bettencourt had intended for his meeting had been entirely forgotten in the outrage that had seized the men of the Good Families. They had summoned Celestia, according to Section II, Paragraph IV of the Covenant, and as expected, she had shown up. Exactly on time, of course. The equinoid princess was, if anything, an absolute beast for Law.

Nikolai waited, tapping his foot. The immense white creature sighed.

"Mr. Astor, when the details of the Covenant between the Diarchy of Equestria and the ruling Families of Earth were drawn, the single greatest stipulation made was that the members of the Good Families should 'in every way and in every respect, excepting those requirements specifically stipulated within Appendix B, be kept completely and fully human, which is defined as being a member of the species Homo sapiens sapiens of the planet Earth as known in the present age and time of this contract, and in no way be altered, changed, manipulated or transformed beyond what is minimally necessary for healthful and robust survival within the demesne of Equestria.'

"Warren Rensselaer is dead! I saw him drop stone cold dead right outside of his own home! I turned his corpse over so he wouldn't be laying with his face in the dirt!" Nikolai's face was red, and his eyes strained wide.

"Yes? I do not understand the point you are trying to make." The eternal princess spoke in a calm, relaxed voice. "Perhaps if you specified your concern exactly..."

"He's DEAD!" Astor nearly shouted the word. Why couldn't this alien slab of meat grasp the obvious?

"I think what Nikolai is trying to say is that it is very troubling that one of us has expired of something as mundane as heart failure within a universe of magic where the average pony..." Cornelius Weyerhauser said the word as if he were describing an entry from the Bristol Stool Scale "...lives three times as long, and some..." Cornelius glared at the princess "...much longer than that. It hardly seems fair."

The men in the room, nearly a hundred altogether, grumbled assent. Princess Celestia sat quietly, patiently waiting for the ripple to pass by. "I am sorry for your loss, I truly am." One of the Equestrian Royal Guards briefly interrupted the princess, whispering something to her, then standing back. "But the fact is that the human called Warren Rensselaer lived, and died, as the human he insisted he remain. I have met the precise terms of the Covenant in exacting detail, terms which you yourselves participated in creating, and which all of you agreed to."

"Celestia!" Alberto Fontbona stepped forward, briefly raising his hand to be recognized. "Princess." Alberto affected an amiable smile. "Your great power rebuilt us piece by piece into men who could live within your realm! The sheer magnitude of such a thing, to recast a living man into magical matter! Some would call you a god!"

The princess did not look pleased. "I am, and remain always, your princess. I have chosen my title with great care. I would be called nothing more." The royal eyes fixed Fontbona firmly. "And nothing less."

"Of course, my princess." Alberto Fontbona bowed grandly. "But surely it would be simple enough for one such as you to bring Warren back from wherever it is that he has gone?" Alberto smiled once more. Other men in the room nodded at him, catching on to where he was going. "Perhaps... perhaps we could come to a new arrangement, one where..."

"Warren has gone nowhere. His body is in the back room where you have laid it. It would indeed be a simple matter to repair the damage to his body, restart the machinery of it, and have him awaken." The princess was calm, as always, but there was a faint coldness in her eyes. "That said, shortly after he would die again, and would once more if the act were repeated. Quite simply, he has reached the end of his time. To extend his lifespan further in any meaningful way would require altering the cellular mechanism by which his flesh operates. He would no longer be human as specified clearly by the Covenant. I am bound by the Covenant, and so what you are clearly trying to suggest..." The princess of the sun looked levelly at the men in the room "...would be a complete breach of our agreement."

This was not a bit what any man in the Muleskinner Club wanted to hear, and the faint rumble of their anger rippled again through the room.

"Now, I am sorry, but I must leave. Other matters press upon me. I have honored your summons, and now I must depart." The princess rose from her cushion, and prepared to exit, her honor guard attending to her golden seat.

"WAIT!" it was Nikolai again. "Warren... Warren is in your... pony heaven now, right? He isn't just gone, he's in your... afterlife or whatever it is, correct?" He seemed desperate, almost pleading.

Once more the princess sighed. The sigh seemed slightly sad. "Mister Rensselaer lived, and died, completely as a human, exactly as agreed in..."

"But you changed us!" Nikolai was almost in tears now, which made several of the other men uncomfortable. "You personally converted each and every one of us into Equestrian matter, you personally remade us into magical matter so we could live as humans, so we wouldn't have to be ponies! That was the deal! We're made out of the same stuff ponies are made out of now, that's why we can live here!"

Celestia did look sad. Every man could see it now. "Correct, Nickolai Valeri Astor. Each and every member of the ruling families of earth are now made of Equestrian matter. I was very careful when I reconstructed every single last one of you. You are all exactly as you were when you were made of atoms instead of dweons. Other than being built of the native materials of my domain, and the minor, contractually approved alteration of your capacity for violence as outlined in Appendix B, you are completely and utterly human. You have not been changed in any regard beyond the exact terms of the Covenant."

Nikolai fell to his knees on the wood floor, his face blank, the look in his eyes that of a man lost and beyond hope.

"I am very sorry for your loss." The princess finally was able to turn to leave. Just before she passed through the large doors to the Muleskinner, she looked back over her flank. "I hold to every part of the Covenant exactly. Please keep Section VI in mind." And with that the Diarch of the Sun was gone.

She could not be mandatorily summoned again, under the rules of the Covenant, for one full year.

"Section... six." Nikolai breathed out the words with the last air in his lungs before breathing in again.

"He just... died. Didn't he?" Forrest Arnault stepped his ponderous bulk backward, as if retreating from his own thoughts. "Just... dead. Like on earth. Gone. Just... gone."

"Section six." Nikolai stood up, his knees stiff. "Remedial transformation into Equestrian form."

"Potion won't work here. She has to do it by hand, like she fixed us originally to live here." Alberto smoothed his balding pate. "Ponification."

"By 'hoof'." Nikolai smoothed his pants to get the folds out. "Not by hand. By hoof. That's what they say."

"What the hell is wrong with all of you?" Only now had Stefan Bettencourt chosen to speak. "Rensselaer died no differently than every man who ever walked the earth! The earth is gone, but he still died a man. The lot of you are turning as soft and useless as those fluffy ponies out there! Man up! We are the chosen of Earth!" Bettencourt walked to where Celestia had sat, and stood, trying to become the new center of attention. "That is why I asked you here in the first place. Rensselaer's death just underscores the real issue, which is that we have lost the capacity to reproduce!"

Stefan's words fell on deaf ears. Every man, every former master of industry of the vanished earth was now lost in grief for themselves. Some stood silent, absorbed in thought or emotion, a very few openly wept.

"That is what she meant. I never bothered with such things as magical souls when I lived on earth. The idea was ridiculous, a mere pablum for the masses." Nikolai wiped his brow. He found that it was cold and damp. He spoke slowly, as if in a daze. "But then... even after Celestia showed us the truth... I still... my god... death is still death for us! That is what she actually meant when she said we are still utterly human..."

Stefan Bettencourt frowned. It didn't seem likely that anyone would listen to him about the impossibility of new births.

Petra used the noise of the loud discussion that had broken out to escape the closet where she had been hiding. The Muleskinner was strictly off limits to children and women - except on Celestdays, when the men could bring their wives for dinner. Petra absolutely did not want to be caught. But the Muleskinner had the best larder in the entire Human Masada, and it always got first pick of the deliveries through the gates.

It was often hot on the far side of Canterlot mountain. The reason was the banana plantation that was Plantain and Crème's home. The Pegasai kept the entire region in perpetual summer. There was never a fall, and never a winter. They made it rain, of course, but even the rain was warm. Mother had said it was like living in the tropics back on earth.

As lunchtime approached, Petra had wanted very much to offer her new friends - her very first friends, if the truth be told - something special to eat. Plantain had told her of the sorts of things that she ate at meals, and Petra had found herself envious of them. Equestrians ate hay and grass and grains and vegetables, of course, but they could also eat any amount of sweets without harm. They could enjoy cakes and pies and even candy all day long and never become ill as humans did. Some ponies did just that, in fact, for every day of their long, long lives.

The Muleskinner always had the most wonderful desserts. Mother would sometimes bring back a portion of her Celestday meal with Father at the club to share with Petra. From what Mother had said, there were shelves and shelves of the most delicious things just sitting there at the Club. They would never even notice if some were taken for a good cause.

The arrival of Plantain and her little bunny had made Petra feel like something inside of her was tearing, or ripping apart. She felt full of feelings that her skin could no longer hold in. Already she had done the most dreadful things - she had let a pony into her room. She had tried to keep the pony - and the little bunny - entirely a secret from both Mother and Father, and it had actually worked! There were no cameras in Equestria, no spy eyes and no agents of her father standing in the shadows. For the first time in her existence, Petra understood that she truly had a life - a life all of her very own.

She had never dared to go against her parents before. It had been an impossibility, actually. But here, in Equestria, the impossible was now possible. Petra felt fear, and worry, and also a thrill unlike anything she had ever known. It almost made her giddy to realize that what she did was not being observed or monitored or watched. It was difficult to accept. She found herself constantly looking for the little lenses or the tiny black dots she had come to accept as an omnipresent feature of her world. There were no overly-ordinary men and women always nearby, changing shifts.

It had finally dawned on Petra Bettencourt that for the first time in her whole life, she had been living entirely as a single person, her own person, and not as the daughter of Stefan Albrecht Bettencourt, CEO of the world.

She had nearly turned back three times on the way to the Muleskinner. She had been certain that there had been an agent behind a tree. But when she went to look, there was only bushes and bark. It was almost beyond belief. For the first time ever, Petra knew she was actually... free.

There, standing behind the tree, Petra had seen the man jog out of his back door and round the edge of his cottage. It wasn't a large mansion, so the man couldn't have been one of the inner circle. He was likely one of the lower heads of the Good Families. Even among their small community, there were smaller communities within it, all based on the influence and importance that the members had held back when they had lived on earth.

The man jogged around to the other side of his home and then just... fell down. The man fell and he didn't move and he didn't get up.

Petra was about to run to him, and ask him why he was doing such a strange thing when several other adults ran to the man on the ground and began fussing with him. One turned the man over, onto his back. Others began checking his neck and wrists and listening to his chest. Another adult began taking deep breaths and kissing the man over and over. Finally they all stopped the things they were doing and stood around staring at the man on the ground.

By then, more adults had arrived, and they picked up the man who had fallen down and they carried him away. When this happened, Petra was able to escape from behind the tree and make for the Muleskinner Club. As she moved across the compound, she saw that the adults were also going to the Muleskinner. They were taking the fallen man there.

This turned out to be a great spot of luck. The adults were so busy with the man who fell down, that the side, kitchen entrance was entirely empty of people, and the kitchen itself was also empty. Most of the large building was empty, every adult having gone to see the man who fell down.

In the kitchen, Petra found a very nice empty sack. It had once been filled with rice, soon it would be filled with delicious treats for Plantain and Crème.

Petra discovered a lovely German chocolate cake roll that was not the least bit messy and which could be easily put into her sack. "Oh, I wish I had a tiny black mask! I have become so terribly naughty of late. Now I have turned to burglary!" Stuffing that cake roll into a discarded rice sack was easily the most thrilling and dangerous thing which Petra had ever experienced. Several times she could not help but scan the wooden walls and ceiling for hidden sensors or artificially intelligent tracking insects. Not a single metallic spider could be seen.

When she found the stack of pumpkin-nut muffins and began stuffing them into her bag, she began to worry that her heart would explode from her chest. Petra had to sit down for a moment, just to regain her wits. For most of her thirteen years, she had lived under the constant awareness that her every action and behavior was under neverending scrutiny. She had been tracked and watched and guarded, and nothing she could ever do was for an instant her own. Every detail of her life was available for the review of her parents however private. All of this scrutiny was to both protect her from harm, and to mold her into a proper heir to the Bettencourt dynasty.

As Petra sat trying to calm herself, she began to listen to the voices coming clearly through the wall. The adults in the main hall, which connected with the kitchens for large dinner parties, were becoming agitated.

Suddenly, Petra heard the most dear and precious voice she had ever heard in her life. The princess was in the great hall. Princess Celestia was near!

Petra was halfway to the door by the time she managed to grab the edge of the island counter. Momentarily she felt her own body struggling against itself as her legs continued to try to dash into the hall, held in check only because of her firm grip. The desire to run to the princess, her princess, was overwhelming.

For six months, the princess had been her constant companion, as she had been to every member of the Good Families, old or young. For six months, the princess had sung to her, told her stories, laughed with her, played with her. The princess had been more than a friend, more than a mere nanny, despite what Petra had said to Plantain.

For six months, for the only time in her whole life, Petra had felt genuinely loved.

When the adults had relented, when they had seen enough of what the real world actually was, when the Good Families had agreed to the Covenant Between Earth and Equestria that had allowed the Conversion Bureaus to be built to save all the doomed peasants of the world, Celestia had left. Even though the princess had been utterly gentle and as kind as she could be about the matter, her leaving had been the most terrible and traumatic day of Petra's life.

After the months of care, after the force feedings and the constant barrage of psychiatrists and treatments, after countless relapses over the course of a year, Petra gradually had become able to function again. She returned to her constantly monitored conditioning to become a proper Bettencourt. She learned her lessons and spoke properly and echoed the proper beliefs and sentiments that were expected of her.

Her one relief, the one thing that had allowed this return to functionality, had been her show. That was the reason Father had allowed it at all. She had seen it in the hospital, after she had collapsed. She was in the middle of being force fed through a tube after a relapse, and was staring blankly at the holoscreen when the first episode of 'Going Pony' came on.

The program was a real-life propaganda piece arranged by branch of the Worldgovernment to sell ponification to the public. The adventures of a young twoper girl as she was processed within the first Conversion Bureau utterly captured Petra's imagination. Sunshine Laughter - the girl had already picked out a pony name for herself - and later, Rose Vale, the newfoal companion Sunshine had met in the Bureau, became the closest thing to best friends Petra had ever had. Every time she slipped a romball into the player, her friends were there with her, living a life that Petra could only dream of.

Over and over she watched every episode of 'Going Pony'. She laughed every time that Sunshine became frantic wondering whether or not she had been called to the ponification room. She sighed every time when Sunshine and Rose first admitted their love. She had memorized the names of every single member of the little breakfast club that formed once Sunshine had finally become a pony. For Petra, her holoprogram had become her real life, the thing that made getting through the awful days of being a proper Bettencourt possible at all.

When the time came to move to Equestria with all the other Good Families, Petra had exploded with joy!

It was then that she was harshly disabused of her constant fantasy, her only wish. They had told her before, but she had been unable to accept it. Father finally made it brutally clear.

Not a single one of the Good Families would be ponified. That was for the rabble, the peasants, the lessers of the world. The truly important people, the real human race, they would be personally attended to by the princesses. Every member of the three-hundred true families would undergo direct reconstruction into Equestrian matter. The process was time consuming even for the princesses, but in the end, when the billions of the earth's wretched were mere ponies, the elite would remain true humans.

Petra had been given to princess Luna to be reconstructed. She had demanded to see Celestia, and had thrown quite a fit. Then, disheveled and sodden with tears, Petra had finally sunk to her knees and begged, with hands held as if in prayer, to be turned into a pony instead.

Father had hit her then, across the face, the only time he had ever done so in public. The princess of the night had been shocked, but she was constrained by her duty. Petra became cold and numb, after that. She stood quiet and empty as the dark princess replaced every speck of her earth body with particles of Equestrian matter. For an hour she stood thus, feeling utterly devoid of all hope. She hardly even noticed when the princess announced her to be complete, and she said nothing as she was led away.

The last thing she could recall of her reconstruction was her father yelling at the princess, but she couldn't remember why.

Celestia was just outside the kitchen door.

Petra gradually regained herself, and her legs stopped trying to run of their own accord. It was pointless. What could she hope to accomplish if she ran into the main hall? Celestia wouldn't see her back then, when it mattered, and now it was too late. She was human. She could never be a pony, Father had explained it very, very clearly. The serum would not work on anyone already made of Equestrian matter. The earth was gone, and so the Bureaus were gone, and in any case Petra could drink an ocean of potion and it would do nothing at all.

Alone of all of the people of the old world, the Good Families remained - and would always be - human.

Petra sighed. It was too late for tears now.

But, it was still wonderful to hear the voice of the princess. Petra listened to the dulcet tones of her beloved princess, remembering those precious six months, remembering her romball collection of 'Going Pony', remembering...

Two men were talking now. One sounded thin and weedy, the other deep and growly. Apparently the man who had fallen down had... died. Petra had never seen anyone die before. It was so very odd. The man had just fallen down, nothing more.

The two men sounded strange. They were upset, but not in any way that seemed connected to the poor man who had fallen down. The two men were concerned for themselves.

Petra crept closer to the wall, so she could hear what they were saying.

"Section six." There was the sound of scuffling feet, then the weedy sounding man spoke again. "Remedial transformation into Equestrian form."

"Potion won't work here. She has to do it by hand, like she fixed us originally to live here." There was a pause before the grumbly man continued. "Ponification."

Tears came to Petra's eyes, but she slapped her own face and they stopped.

While the conversations continued in the hall, Petra began methodically stuffing her sack as fast as she could. Not just cakes and pies, but vegetables and bread and fruit and cheese, too. There were jugs of cider here, she determined that she could carry one with her, in addition to the now very full sack.

Petra went immediately and quietly to the door from which she had entered the kitchen and carefully peeked outside to make sure no one was around.

Oh, but the arrival of the pony Plantain and the little bunny Crème had made her so very naughty. But Father and Mother had been much more naughty than she could ever be. They had been more than merely naughty. They had lied.

Petra carefully opened the door, and left the Muleskinner Club.

When the tears had hit, after the two men had spoken, in that moment when she had slapped her own face, she had remembered why Father had yelled at princess Luna. She had pushed it all way far down, deep inside her mind, because Father and Mother would have no more said about it. Petra remembered Luna's words, the words that had driven her father to shouts.

"Cease thy tears, little one! Hark, for what hath been done here today need not remain forever! Return hither when thou dost come of age, and if thou desireth it still, a pony we shall gladly make of thee!"

Petra imagined that Father would, in his values, think her to have been somewhat naughty today.

Come the night, Petra resolved with all of her heart that she would be absolutely, perfectly evil.

4. Very Naughty Indeed

The Conversion Bureau

HUMAN

in Equestria
By Chatoyance

Very Naughty Indeed

It was the Golden Age of Mankind.

Nineteen billion human beings lived upon the earth, every single last one of them fed, every single last one of them watered and sheltered. Never before in history had there been such a population, never before in history had even the majority of humanity gone to bed with a full belly - much less the whole of humankind.

War was a thing of the past. No armies marched and no nations clashed, for there were no more countries, and no more flags. There was only the Worldgovernment, arisen from the merger of the most powerful of the multinational corporations owned by the oldest, most powerful families. They had, in truth, always ruled - if from the shadows - but now they ruled openly with the fall of the planetary economy. When the Great Collapse had come, the world had not descended long into barbarism - instead, the Good Families had stepped in, and brought order and peace back.

There had been a price to reach the Golden Age.

The constant struggles for power and wealth and politics and ego had left the earth a dying planet. The oil was gone, the radium was gone, the precious metals wasted, the common metals spent. Much of the planet was a desert, and some of it had become poison zones of death. Almost all of the plants and animals were vanished now, and the oceans had died and turned gray. It was too late to try to leave the Earth for the stars.

But Mankind, ever inventive, always clever, had put total planetary extinction in temporary check.

Nanotechnology, machines the size of viruses and smaller, pushed molecules around like toy blocks, converting matter into whatever form was desired. Organic waste was converted back into food, lost metals were slowly regained from useless dispersion into the environment. The deadly water was purified and made potable on a scale that served the vast population.

The Golden Age had arrived, but it came with a dying planet and the majority of mankind living in squalor - as they always had - but fed and watered and, for the most part, well. Yet it could not last. The damage done had been mortal, and the best scientists of the age had worked out that only three generations remained to the human species. After that, there would be no more.

Then, one warm - it was always warm now, even in the refuge of the powerful, Antarctica - April day, a ten meter wide pearl appeared in the north Pacific. It was the beginning of the collision of two universes - Mundis and Equestria. The pearl was a hyperdimensional sphere, passing through the terrestrial plane of existence. As greater and greater cross-sections of the colliding cosmos became visible, the pearl grew in size, an expanding orb half in, and half out of the ocean.

After the equinoid alien princess appeared in the sky, over every city, over the favelas and the fallen arcologies, after she had explained the magnitude of the multiversal collision, and offered the peoples of the doomed earth refuge within her own realm, the last of the retired generals came to the Good Families and presented their own take on the situation.

It was an invasion, they said. It was green aliens attacking, it was the red commies again. It was the final judgement and the antichrist and the yellow peril and the hoards of Khan and the red injuns, and it was time to circle the wagons and play cowboy once more.

And the Good Families were divided. Half saw the compassion and the generosity of the offer of salvation, and half saw deceit, because there was only deceit, all of history was deceit, and it was all there could ever be.

Stefan Albrecht Bettencourt had won the position of being the chief executive officer of corporate mankind. It was his call, and he made it based on the whole of human history. The oceans soon boiled, and the skies burned above the pearl in the sea.

But Equestra was not earth, and its history was not human. Bettencourt's decision was made from the wrong set of data.

Everywhere he walked, now, Stefan Bettencourt had company. He had company when he slept, and company when he did his business on the toilet. Everywhere he went, she was there. Celestia. The princess of Equestria, the diarch of the sun. He could see her, but not touch her. She passed through wall and table and chair like a shade from beyond. He could hear her, and she him, and she had a lot to say.

Every single member of the Good Families had a Celestia of their own. Only they could see the projections of the princess, and when they gathered, the room was filled with pony ghosts - all eight feet tall, all luminous, all Celestia. One for every baby, every child, every adult.

For the children, Celestia was a fairytale come true, and the children pressured their parents to trust the Equestrian monarch.

But for the adults, Celestia was brutal truth and harsh reality. She granted them the most terrible of curses - the power to see what she saw, and it was horrible.

Bettencourt looked at his hands, as he washed them in the sink. They were hollow, and empty. Through Celestia's curse, he could see, if he chose, through the eyes of a god. He could focus with supernal vision down into the molecules that made him up, down to the very level of protons and neutrons, down to quarks and strings.

The new vision of the Good Families had been tested and studied relentlessly over the months. What they saw was true, and could be proven and documented. The adults could see the molecular machinery that made up the living cell, watch their own clockwork run in real time, see what scientists could only dream of.

The ruling class of earth had been given the power to see reality truly as it was, indeed they could not stop seeing it. And wherever they looked, they saw only molecules and atoms and emptiness. The universe was truly a material one, devoid of spirit, or soul, or god. It was just as science had always clearly stated - a mechanical, material, purposeless temporary arrangement of order within a larger, uncaring chaos.

But they could see more.

They could now see beyond the cosmos in which they lived, and there, beyond Mundis, were countless other universes. Most were dark and empty, but some few were alive. These universes were bursting with life, real life, and real life was magic. Real life had soul and spirit and purpose and meaning. Closest of all was the universe of Equestria, looming like a truck, inevitably approaching on a collision course with the earth. When Equestria had passed, the earth would be gone, and with it every last human and every last remaining creature of materialistic nature.

It was horrible. To know, to see, for certain and without question that death was forever, that only oblivion awaited. That all the mundane universe truly was an accident. That all around were countless other universes where life - real life- lived and loved and played forever and ever.

Stefan Bettencourt had spent his life acquiring. All the Good Families lived to acquire. Acquisition of material wealth and social power was their purpose, their religion, and their meaning. And now they knew that in the cosmic scheme of things, they were all the lowest of paupers. The realization stung. It burned. It made them rage.

But still, they could not comprehend the princess. It was not within their understanding to give without expectation of repayment. The world was a business, and no business could run at a loss. There was never enough of anything, and only he who controlled resources, controlled life. Celestia's offer of sanctuary must be a trick.

So they got together and created a trick of their own, in return.

The Covenant was written by their best and most devious artists of law and logic. If they must escape to Equestria as begging refugees, then they would be damned to settle for common lives. The Good Families were the true worth of humanity, and they deserved better. They would have a fortress of their own, and palaces and mansions, all arranged according to rank and class. They would have no end of wealth, and no end of resources. They would keep their thumbs and their precious human shapes. They would remain cunning primates and not end up as mooing beasts of the field. In a universe of mere ponies, they would remain the only true humans.

And, from that, they knew they would one day rise again. And rule. And on that day, the princess would, like so many kings and queens of earth before her, become theirs to command. What had been on earth, would be again in Equestria.

The princess had balked, as they knew she would, and so they held the common rabble for hostage. There would be no ponification unless their demands were met. The Covenant was changed and altered on an hourly basis, passed between princess and humanity until, finally, the clever, clever artists of law signaled that the Families had the advantage. And so they had signed, and the groundwork for the first Conversion Bureau had been laid.

At the time, Stefan Bettencourt had chortled. They had beaten the pony princess at her own game. They had been so very, very clever indeed.

"It's real. Just like you said!" Asher Brin stared at the chestnut filly with the yellow mane. "I reckoned that you just had a stuffed one made. Does it do tricks?"

Seraphina, Milo, Isla and Oliver just stood with disbelieving looks on their faces. Seraphina was smiling but uncertain, Isla looked puzzled, Milo had his back pressed to the wall, and Oliver looked like he might cry, though from what emotion it was impossible to tell.

"Her name is Plantain, and she isn't an 'it', she's a person. A pony person." Petra felt insulted for her friend, and for herself. She was regretting including Asher now. "And of course she is real. I do not tell lies."

"Excuse me, miss pony..." Oliver was overweight and his hair was too long. His mother was the lowest member of all of the ruling families of earth. Petra had never met him before today, but she had deliberately sought him out first. If she was going to be very, very naughty, she intended to break every rule she possibly could.

"Plantain. Just call me Plantain!" The pony smiled, then bent her head and nuzzled her lapine best friend. "And this is Crème!"

Oliver went down onto his knees, his bulk slamming them into the floor of Petra's bedroom. Outside, the moon was high in the midnight sky. "I got to meet another pony before!" Oliver seemed as if he were in a trance. "Her name was Jewel Star and she told my mom where to go to catch up with the others when we got off the boat!"

Plantain smiled. "That's very interesting. Now you've met another!" Plantain did a little bow with one leg on the floor and the other raised close to her body.

"My name is Oliver. Oliver Sachs and I think you are very nice." Oliver wiped the hair out of his eyes with a pudgy hand and sat down the rest of the way on the floor, beaming.

"Are you a boy pony or a girl pony?" Asher had frowned at Oliver. Oliver shouldn't even be here. This was the Bettencourt mansion. Oliver was practically a lesser, and he acted like it too.

Plantain seemed surprised. "I'm a filly!" Asher didn't seem to understand. "A girl pony. You really can't tell?"

"You all look the same to me." Asher stepped back and leaned against a beam with his arms crossed. He didn't seem particularly happy about meeting an ordinary pony for the first time.

"I remember Celestia. She told me that the whole world here is filled with ponies. She said they were all nice and would be my friend." Isla was mid-tier, she kept to herself. The other children thought she was slow. "Would... would you be my friend?"

Plantain giggled and swished her tail. "I'd be happy to be your friend... um...."

"Isla. My name is Isla." Isla Draghi twisted a lock of her short, raven hair around a finger and looked embarrassed. "I hope... I hope I end up as pretty as you when I'm a pony."

"Are you sure we can make it?" Milo Cameron was staring straight at Petra. "I don't even want to think what my father will do if we get caught."

"If you are too afraid, you need not come. No one is forcing you." Petra was annoyed. Boys were such cowards. "But this is probably your only chance to be a pony, ever, so I wouldn't miss it if I were you!"

"I am definitely going, Milo." Seraphina Hollande was fifteen, which made her the oldest. But she was also very short for her age, which sometimes made it hard for the other children to take her seriously. "I have never forgotten Celestia, or her promise. I don't know about you, but I've just been waiting for a chance!"

Asher glared at Plantain. "Hey, pony. You certain there's a way out through the wall?"

Plantain glared right back. "How do you think I got in here?"

Asher chuckled bitterly. "Maybe you were let in. Maybe you're here to help them figure out who the losers are."

Plantain's fierceness collapsed. "W-what?"

"Don't you think it's weird?" Asher looked from child to child. "One of the adults kicks the bucket, they call Celestia here, and now we have a pony who says there's a hole in the wall and we can all leave, just like that."

"Celestia... the princess was here?" Petra hadn't explained all the things she had seen to Isla yet. It had taken the first half of the night just to find anyone she could get to, whom she knew truly wanted to be a pony.

"What? You didn't know?" Asher smirked. "Celestia was here, right here, at the Muleskinner. They summoned her and everything."

"But... the princess was here?" Isla seemed shocked, sad, puzzled and amazed all at once. Petra found her shifting and complex expressions fascinating.

"Yea. I said somebody croaked. It was a big deal." Asher sat down on Petra's bed. It may be the high-and-mighty Bettencourt mansion, but it wasn't like little Petra was acting the part. Asher did a little bounce, just for the fun of it. Stupid Bettencourts.

Oliver leaned close to Plantain. "I want to be just like you." He whispered. "Please take us to Celestia."

Plantain blinked and nodded, unsure how to respond. "I'll do my best. I need to see Celestia too."

"Why do you need to see the princess?" Asher's suggestion that the pony might be some kind of agent provocateur had bothered Seraphina. There were more things to worry about than just parents. Seraphina's father believed that Celestia had deliberately destroyed the earth and that she secretly ate human children. It sounded utterly stupid, but he was an adult.

"My mom doesn't want me to be an entertainer. She wants me to be some fancy pony in Canterlot, but I want to stay with the Happy Pony Show." Plantain sighed. "I'm going to ask the princesses for emancipation. That's why I hid out here - it's on the way, and my mom would never ever dare to come near this place."

Seraphina nodded. "That, I understand. I guess, in a way, that's what we're all doing."

"What's... emanci... pation?" Isla looked up from where she had sat down on the floor near Crème Bûnnée. Crème had seemed to take a liking to her, and was sitting in her lap, letting her scratch behind the little bunny's ears.

"It's a divorce. From your parents." Milo put a hand through his midnight hair. "This isn't just running away, is it? This is forever. If we become ponies, they won't ever want us back." The realization was just now truly hitting the boy.

"Screw my dad." Asher's hands were down now at his sides on the bed, making fists. "Screw all of our dads."

Plantain jerked at the emotional impact. Isla's mouth dropped open. Milo looked worried. Oliver shrank slightly. Petra started to giggle nervously, then caught herself.

"I wasn't sure you were actually with us." Seraphina seemed impressed.

Asher leaned back on his arms. "Oh I want to be a pony. It's all I've wanted since..." Asher's voice caught for a moment. He stared at the comforter. "I just don't want to get caught. I also... I don't want to be changed by Celestia. I want Luna."

Petra turned to face the boy. "What... why don't you want Celestia to change you? She's... she's Celestia!"

There was anger in Asher's eyes. "Yeah, and she left. She just left. When our parents signed that thing? She... left."

"It was in the Covenant. She had to. She didn't want to. Didn't she tell you that before she went?" Saraphina shook her head.

Asher tried to burn a hole through the comforter with his eyes. "She left."

"Alright, everyone. If we're all going to do this, there are things that need doing." Petra was worried about the time. They had to escape before morning, before the adults got up. "And I need your help, because there are lives that need saving and if we're going to be ponies, we need to start acting like ponies now."

Grunthas slept in the Dog House with his seven brothers. Grunthas took care of the hunt and the slaughtering, so he was considered the Alpha. He got the top bunk in the best room. Grunthas was the sous chef under Snivelina, so he got second bunk. Grunthas, Grunthas, and Grunthas, because they were the human master's carriage team, got the next best beds, while Grunthas and Grunthas - who did the pantry and the yard work respectively, got the next room to themselves.

Grunthas, however, was the runt of the litter, and his job was toiletries and the Bettencourt dung cart. He slept out in the special barn, away from the mansion and the Dog House, at the far end of the Bettencourt grounds. The Bettencourts, being First Family, naturally claimed control of the very limited and highly secret meat supply within the Human Masada. The humans weren't supposed to keep animals for food.

Celestia had included elements from the Pax Equestria within the Covenant. The Pax Equestria was the ancient treaty between the dragons, the griffons, and later, the diamond dogs, that determined the boundaries of the lands given to them and especially what - or more precisely who - they could and could not eat.

Under the Pax, only those creatures deemed violent, evil, or destructive could be legally hunted by the three species. Thus the underworld of Tartarus, the monsters of the Everfree, and the twisted interdimensional creatures that skulked at the boundaries of Equestrian space were allowed, but ponies and all their gentle kin were not. There had been exceptions made for distant and hostile regions - the diamond dogs and griffons could raise rabbits in the barren deserts, and also in the frozen, desolate north. But within the green and lush center of Equestria, the slaughter of any animal was forbidden.

Bettencourt was not alone in finding this prohibition unacceptable. Although they had many meat alternatives available, the human leaders were not about to have a mere pony - even if she was a princess - arbitrarily dictate whether or not they could enjoy bacon. "It's a man's right to eat bacon, dammit!" was the consensus, and the humans had already determined the exact limits of the princesses abilities.

Within their cosmos, the two princesses were gods. They had nearly absolute power - but that power was defined in intriguing ways. The princesses could will continents to move, mountains to form, oceans to come into being - but such massive force could easily wipe out all life that might exist in such areas. As far as the humans were able to learn, the princesses used their true powers only once, in the beginning, when they had wrestled their lands from some terrible chaotic state.

They had brought life into being, and the similarities to terrestrial life had convinced the human scientists during the Bureau years that the princesses must have been studying the earth and that they had based their creations on what they saw there. But life is fragile, and once fashioned, the princesses were stuck with the world they had created, lest they destroy countless of their own children.

Away from Equestria, scientists noted that the princesses became weaker with each kilometer from the Barrier - they drew their awesome might from their home, and lost their power with distance from it. There had been plans to try to use that fact to human advantage, but the plot had never come to fruition.

The princesses were powerful too on the most microscopic of scales. It had been theorized that they relied on magical programs - spells - that used logical structures to perform repetitive tasks. This, it had been decided, was how the princesses had converted the flesh of the Good Families atom by atom into Dweonic matter.

The one scale the princesses appeared to be limited on was the scale of everyday things. Creatures who could move the sun and moon, who could paint the very stars, or manipulate the cores of atoms were simply too powerful to be in full control at the level of people and ponies. They were over-muscled and lacked flexibility. They were too powerful, and thus dared not express their power dramatically, like the Greek gods of mythology. In this way, they had limits, boundaries created by their own morality and compassion towards mortal creatures. They had areas of vulnerability.

Any limitation is an avenue for exploitation. The princesses dare not use their powers fully, and the humans soon realized that the princesses did not know everything. They could make an entire universe, but they saw not where every sparrow fell. They could be fooled, and things could be hidden from them.

And many things were hidden from the princesses.

Opening the pen was easy, keeping the pigs and chickens quiet was not.

"Please, Beaktrice, Shhhh!" The pigs had introduced everyone, which had taken entirely too long, and once the notion of freedom and escape had been understood, all the animals had become terribly excited. The pigs could talk, of course, but the chickens could not, and they were terribly emotional. Petra finally put her fingers around the chicken's beak until she got the idea.

"I'm sorry. It's hard for us. We never expected..." Hamton was sobbing again, which was threatening to make Cutler and Tourt Pière choke up with emotion once more. Rescuing intelligent animals was much more difficult than the cartoons made it out to be. In real life, it wasn't an adventure, it was rescue from a horrific death. The pigs and chickens weren't so much funny animals as concentration camp prisoners. They were very aware of their situation, and this was making things difficult for the children.

"Good pigs! Dear chickens! Listen to me!" Petra had entirely enough at this point, the night was passing far too quickly, and they had yet to even leave the Masada. "If you wish to live, you need to be strong now! There must be no more fussing and carrying on!" Petra felt like her mother was inside her somehow. "I need you to be completely quiet and think only of following me out of here. Not a peep now, out of any of you. Especially you, Beaktrice. Wattlesworth? Watch your hen! Now come on!"

With Beaktrice whimpering and Hamton sniffling, Petra led the four pigs and three chickens carefully to the barn doors. Milo and Oliver stood ready to use Petra's comforter and a rope to bundle up and tie down Grunthas the runt if he should wake up. Milo had originally thought of beating the diamond dog with a baseball bat, but it had been pointed out to him that such a thing was impossible now. The capacity to kill or cause serious harm had been taken from humans during their transmogrification into Equestrian matter. It was in the Covenant, and it had been the one thing that Celestia had been absolutely unwilling to negotiate.

This, of course, was why their parents used only diamond dog servants, and didn't ever allow ponies in their homes. The dogs, for their part, were refugees just like the humans, and they felt comfortable in the company of other apex predators. The diamond dogs could kill, and they could slaughter, and - much to the joy of the human adults - they were utterly loyal to their masters, and were fantastic cooks besides.

Petra stepped carefully through the hay until she was out into the night air. She waited by the narrowly open barn door for the last of the animals to leave. Penderloin snorted as the fresh night air assaulted his piggy nose, but the diamond dog did not wake. All the pigs, chickens and children were out into the Bettencourt grounds, under Luna's shining moon and glittering stars.

The pigs wanted to cry, for they had thought they would never see the stars again, but they were silent with reverent awe as the ungainly troupe made their way to where Plantain, Crème, and the other children waited.

"Hello!" Hamton stepped forward towards Asher. "I'm Hamton, and this is Cutler - he's the one with the floppy ear - and Penderloin - bit of a berk but he's alright..." Hamton gestured with a trotter "and Tourt Pière, who..."

"Mother fu... you can really talk!"

Hamton felt flustered. "Of course? Ponies can talk, so why wouldn't..."

"I think I ate your mother last week!" Asher knew he shouldn't have made the joke the minute he said it, but it was too late. It was only a joke. That's all he'd meant by it. But now the pigs were crying and the pig who had been talking to him was wailing loudly and Petra was not succeeding in hushing the creature up.

"What going on?" the scratchy, shrill voice of a diamond dog somehow managed to reach from the Dog House across the grounds. Of course, Petra thought, the dogs had incredible ears. They slept hard, but enough noise would wake them even from their deep sleep. The strangest things would startle Cruddles the maid - Petra could stomp to the bathroom late at night and the dog wouldn't wake. But if Petra was moaning in her sleep from a bad dream, she would wake to find Cruddles stroking her head.

Yowling pigs would have to be one of the things that could wake diamond dogs.

"What now? They'll find us for sure!" Milo was very nervous as the sound of something metal and buckety could be heard crashing in the Dog House. Doubtless the Grunthas brothers were all awake now.

"I'm scared!" Isla was holding Crème, who seemed to enjoy her attentions. Crème jumped from her grasp and climbed the poor girl to stand on her shoulder, riding the child as if she were a Giant Robo. The little bunny began fiercely waving a paw at the wall.

"We simply must get our provisions! Food and water and..." Petra turned towards the pile they had hidden in the bushes near the front of the mansion.

"No." Asher no longer looked bitter or tough. Now he looked like a very little child, frightened to the very core. "Pony! Get us through the wall!" The very blond boy stared with wide eyes at Plantain. "Get us through the wall. Now. Please. Please."

Not one of the children had ever seen Asher look frightened before. Angry, mean, rude... but never frightened. That made them feel fear too.

"I agree. We need to leave now. Right now." Seraphina also turned to Plantain. "Get us out of here, please."

Plantain's ears jerked and her nostrils flared. "Yes... come on, this way."

"But our supplies!" Back on earth, in Antarctica, there was nothing beyond the domes except the last of the snow and barren ground. She had been told to never stray, and had heard stories of children who had died out in the bare rock and gravel.

"Come on, Petra." Plantain took the girl's sleeve in her mouth and gave it a brief tug. "It'll be okay. We need to go now."

Petra took one last look at the bushes and followed.

By the time they had gotten to the far front corner of the Masada wall, the pigs had finally quieted down. Asher spent the walk to the wall first belittling the pigs for failing to take a joke properly, and then, when that had not worked, he had resorted to apologizing profusely. Eventually, Hamton was convinced Asher truly was sorry, and by then even Asher was convinced he was truly sorry.

The pigs, chickens, humans, bunny and pony made their way through the trees that bordered the wall. The trees were tall and fully grown, a testament it seemed, to earthpony magic. The wall had been breached. The stones that made up that part had been neatly kicked in from the outside. Petra looked at the hole in astonishment. The stones were huge, and very heavy.

Plantain grinned. "Earthpony. We're strong!"

It was morning as the human children and the Equestrians made their way over the rolling hills that surrounded the Canterlot Range. There was no way to simply cut directly around the mountains themselves. Equestria had very different physics than the universe in which the earth had floated, and the angle of repose was very high. Mountains could be nearly vertical, like cones, and utterly unclimbable by legs alone. The Canterlot Range was unassailable to anything without wings, and so they would need to go the long way around.

Plantain had an idea of the path to take, one that would avoid her mother's plantation, and the most obvious path to Canterlot itself. "When your parents realize you are missing, where do you think they'll figure you went?"

Isla, Seraphina and Petra all lowered their heads. Petra sighed. "Canterlot. It's the only place. Mother knows that I want to be a pony, Father too. Now that I know they have lied to me, I can be sure that they will expect me to run to Celestia."

"Or Luna." Asher grumbled. "I want Luna."

"Or Luna." Petra agreed. It simply wouldn't do to have Asher moody again.

He might upset the pigs.

5. The Long Way 'Round

The Conversion Bureau

HUMAN

in Equestria
By Chatoyance

The Long Way 'Round

"Children not in Masada master! Scootybutt sure! All diamond dog sure!" Gérard Hollande's butler wrung his paws in shame at failing to find his master's daughter. "Am sorry, master, please forgive Scootybutt?"

Hollande turned to Luigi Draghi, who had arrived with Sergey Brin and a fairly large pack of the clothed, troll-like canids. "Any luck?"

Drahgi gesticulated wildly "I can't find my daughter Isla anywhere! She's not even inside the walls, if these damn dogs can be believed!"

"Scootybutt nose good! All dog nose good! Tell truth! Tell truth!" The other diamond dogs were beginning to whimper and some were whining. The easiest way to win the loyalty of a diamond dog was to be dominant, and the easiest way to make them cry was to be disappointed for any reason.

"If they aren't here, then where in hell are they?" Sergey Brin gave his lead housedog a light kick with his foot. "Nobgobbler! Where is Asher? That's your job, to look after my boy! Now where..." Another kick "...the hell..." Nobgobbler was couched low, shielding his head behind large clawed paws as another kick was directed at him "IS HE?"

"Nob not know, master, Nob sorry, please master, please, Nob not know!" The normally immaculate diamond dog looked scruffy, with his golden coat mussed and his white suit stained with shoe prints. The kicks, of themselves, meant little to the creature. What mattered was that master was angry. Nothing was worse to a diamond dog than the displeasure of an Alpha.

Stefan Bettencourt marched towards the group, with numerous parents and other family heads following him. "My hunting dog sniffed out the story. There's a hole in the wall. It looks like they raided several pantries, including the Club. Left all the stuff under some bushes at the front of my land. I think they got spooked and left before they could reclaim their supplies."

"They can't be far, and they'll be miserable without food and water." Ophelia Sachs laughed. "Silly kids. I expected better of Oliver. He's normally very careful about details."

Andrew Cameron scowled. "Maybe at the shallow end of the pool..." Ophelia caught all too well that Andrew was referring to status and not water "...worrying about food is an issue. With Camerons, duty is what matters. Your déclassé sissy doubtless corrupted my Milo and the others." Andrew traded his scowl for a glare. "What are you even doing talking to any of us?"

"Enough!" The bickering of these petty social climbers was annoying Stefan. There was a Bettencourt out there, with that pack of insignificant brats, and the shame ate at him. "Grunthas! Round up every dog you can find and go after the children! Bring them directly back here! Do whatever you have to, as long as the children aren't harmed, understood?"

"Yes master!" The diamond dog wiggled his tail. He was given the order, so he was Alpha of the searching pack. "But me not Grunthas, me Grunthas! Grunthas is..."

The look on Stefan Bettencourt's face made Grunthas think of the business end of enraged dragons, and an enraged dragon was something no living creature ever wanted to see. "Me get dogs. Me and dogs go get children, bring back, fast, fast, master!"

Stefan watched Grunthas immediately begin growling and barking as he ran off, signalling the other dogs to join in under their new, temporary Alpha.

"What are you doing, Bettencourt? We should be out there going after..." Gérard Hollande went silent at a duplicate of the same look that had frightened the diamond dog.

"The dogs are faster, they know this insane realm, they can track with their noses, and they are utterly loyal and intelligent..." Stefan thought a moment. "...to a degree. If you can claim even one of those traits, please, be my guest."

Brin smirked at the dig. Sergey had always thought Gérard didn't belong in the upper tier.

Stefan gave Sergey a glance as he passed by him, feet directed towards the Club. "Get everyone to the Muleskinner, will you Brin? There's a good boy."

Gérard Hollande chuckled softly. Bettencourt wasn't playing favorites.

Oliver wanted to go north.

"It is the shorter distance, so we will get to Canterlot sooner! We could take the road that goes through the pass there. My mother told me about it. She rode there with Mrs. Prada and Mrs. Reinhart and the Klattens and the Waltons that time Celestia invited the..."

"I say we go south. They'll be expecting us to take the easy path. And nobody cares what your mother thinks, Sachs." Asher stood so that Oliver was blocked from view. Mostly.

"But mom told me that the pass is covered in these beautiful flowers, really big ones the size of dinner plates and..."

"Shut the hell up, pansy!" Asher Brin raised a hand as if he might slap the overweight, delicate boy. "Pansy. Pansy Flower. Now you have your pony name. You're welcome." Oliver had backed off and turned around, so none of the other children could see his face.

"Stop picking on him. What is your problem, anyway?" Seraphina Hollande walked over to the quietly weeping Oliver. "You've been nothing but mean since we left the Masada. I can't see you as a pony at all, frankly." She put a hand on Oliver's shoulder, but he didn't respond. She had wanted to put an arm around his shoulder, but he was taller than she was, even though he was significantly younger.

"I do not approve of your boorish behavior either, Asher." Petra stood up from where she had been sitting. The children had been resting in a hollow created by the rolling hills of grass. "Still, Asher has a point. Not about your mother, dear Oliver..." The poor boy still wasn't willing to turn around. "...rather, I mean about how they will expect us to take the shorter path. 'That is surely what a child would do' I think they will say, and they will expect us to go north."

"Like I said. We go south." Asher kicked at the grass in frustration.

Petra joined Seraphina, but walked around to face Oliver. He was wiping his eyes. Petra gave the boy a comforting pat on the shoulder. "I am certain that your mother was correct, and that the flowers in the pass are just lovely." This seemed to cheer the plump, pale child. "We shall go back, someday, and see them when we are ponies!"

"Oh, yes please!" Oliver beamed through the last of his tears. "Let's!"

Petra smiled her warmest Bettencourt smile and returned to Plantain, Crème and Isla. Isla had somehow become Crème's personal transport and grooming servant, much to Plantain's amusement. "She's popular with other bunnies too." Plantain had offered with regard to her fluffy-tailed partner.

The journey south would take several days, according to Plantain. "I've been down that way before with the Happy Pony troupe. We put on shows in Clydesdale and South Withers once, and Paine picked me up at my home and we just traveled south. That was a couple of years ago, but I remember it sorta okay."

Petra was hungry - all the children were - so it was best to think about anything else. "What is it like? Being on stage I mean, in front of so many people? I should be terrified in such a situation!"

Plantain shook her head so that her yellow mane swirled around her withers. "It's not scary at all, not if you've practiced and know your routine. It's super exciting though!" Plantain grinned and Crème, who was being carried by Isla beside them, nodded so hard her little top hat nearly came off.

"Really?" Petra stepped around a large mass of flowers and a bush "You don't feel afraid at all?"

"Well..." Plantain studied her hooves as they walked. She looked up again. "I was frightened the first time. Alright... the first few times. At the start. But once we were all into our performance, once the dancing started, all there is left to think about is not making any mistakes!" As she passed the flowers, Plantain took a big bite and chewed as they walked. "Mnnf... mnn... Basically... mnfff... once you're out there, mnn... mnnph.... it's like all the fun in the world all at the same time. The bunnies are dancing, or the spiders are doing that thing with the really complex rhythm..."

Plantain looked briefly sad "...Oh. I forgot, you've never even heard them. I know, I know, spiders. They eat bugs, they sit around on webs. Seriously, once they get clicking it sounds incredible! You wouldn't believe how good..." A tall patch of particularly juicy grass, laden with grain at the end of the stalks caught Plantain's eye. "...It's just... Mnnff... Nyumph... amazingly... mnff..."

Petra's stomach growled like some angry beast.

Plantain stopped chewing and swallowed. "Oh." The little earthpony looked utterly crestfallen. "I... I wasn't thinking. I mean... sorry."

"Please, Plantain, it's all right." Petra grabbed a handful of flowers and grass stems from another tall patch as they walked. "I suppose, for you, we are walking right through the middle of a banquet right now, aren't we?"

"It... is sorta good." Plantain's sheepish look suggested it might be better even than that.

"Worth a try, I suppose." Petra studied the palm-sized colorful flowers and the thick stems of grass in her hand. She cautiously nibbled one of the blossoms. After chewing, she swallowed. "Nothing is poisonous in Equestria, right? That is what we've been told."

"Correct!" Plantain smiled, then looked concerned. "For ponies, anyway. And diamond dogs and dragons and griffons. Probably humans too. I can't imagine Celestia not making it true for you too."

"If she was allowed to, I am certain it would be true for us." Petra nibbled one of the grass stalks, then spit it out. It was very hard to chew. "Father says that Celestia was forced by the Covenant to keep us completely human. As much as possible, anyway. I read an old book once that said that a lot of flowers on earth used to be really dangerous. You could eat some, and some people did. In the olden days they even put flowers in salads. But they had to be just the right sort of flowers. Some could stop your heart or make you very sick."

"Maybe you shouldn't eat the flowers, Petra." Plantain felt very worried now.

"Pity, really, because the grass is too tough for my teeth. The flowers at least are soft. They taste very odd, and not at all delicious." Petra threw her handful of foliage away. "They must taste much differently to a pony, I expect."

"Oh, they do!" Plantain grinned. "Most of the cast of the Happy Pony show are newfoals, you know. I was always hearing about how their tastes were changed when they became ponies. Argent and Topic - they were with the original cast, but they got married and settled down in Canterlot - the two of them just went on and on about hay. They had all these favorite blends of grasses, and specific strains they liked best and how best to prepare them and..."

"Prepare hay? How?" Petra was flabbergasted. Hay, as far as she had read in her old books, came in bales and serving hay consisted of throwing it at the ground.

"You can eat hay as is, of course, and it's very tasty fresh and green or dry. When it's dry, hay tastes completely different, and is... richer. More savory, with kind of a nutty aftertaste. Green is good too, though, kind of a lime bite to it, and of course it's juicy, too. And sweet."

Petra's stomach growled again. She tried to ignore it. She had always wanted to hear about what ponies ate directly from a living pony. Talking with Plantain like this reminded her of certain episodes of her beloved holoprogram.

"You can also cook with hay!" Plantain seemed happy talking about the subject. "Hay pancakes, hay almondine, hay fries, stir-fried hay and vegetables, spicy pan-seared hay with chillies, fried green grass, baked hay with cheese..."

"SHUT UP!" Milo Cameron's red face and angry eyes met Petra and Plantain's "I can't even imagine eating... this crap..." Milo smacked his hand through a tall mass of stalks "...but hearing you two go on about it is just too much! Stop it!"

Milo's stomach rumbled even louder than Petra's had. It was quite a sound.

"I wish I was a pony right now so much!" Isla walked grimly on, but even with Crème clutched close to her chest, it was clear she was not happy.

The children walked on in silence for a while, Petra and Plantain feeling very embarrassed. They really shouldn't have been talking so much about pony food. Especially when Plantain made it sound so wonderful. It was impossible for Petra not to invent new hay dishes in her head as she walked. The possibilities just seemed endless, and then, when one added in all the different types of flowers...

"STOP!" Asher walked briskly to the front. "I'm thirsty and hungry. We all are. But I need water the most. Pony!" Asher stared straight at Plantain. "You're supposed to have a sense of smell thousands of times better than a human. I've read that ponies back on earth could find water just by smell. You must be thirsty too! Find some water!" Asher put his hands on his hips and tried to look severe.

"Actually, that's what I've been doing all along." Plantain scraped the ground with a hoof. "Ponies need a lot of water, even more than you. I'm really painfully thirsty, myself. There's a stream just a ways ahead. I've been working us toward it from the moment we started south. It's just that I'm trying to keep us in the hollows between the hills, so that we're harder to spot."

Plantain looked from one child to the next. "Be patient, everypony, please! If we keep going this way, we can all drink our fill in just a half an hour. Try to hold on that long, alright?"

Milo's stomach made a horrific sound again. "What about food? When we left, you said everything would be okay if we ran. We should have brought the supplies! Who's stupid idea was it to leave the supplies there?"

Asher stood with his face close to Milo's, doing everything he could to look big. "It was my idea. Want to make something of it?"

Both boys found themselves pushed apart by a very annoyed Seraphina. "Just stop it! Now. If we start fighting, we might as well just turn ourselves over to our parents!"

That sent a shiver through all the human children.

"Not that we even could fight." Grumbled Milo.

"Maybe we can. I sure felt like I could take you." Asher stomped his footfalls as the group continued.

Seraphina glared at Asher. "I said, stop."

Milo and Asher grumbled in concert with their stomachs as the children and Equestrians marched on.

"Humans are very quarrelsome, aren't they?" Hamton whispered to Cutler, the pigs and chickens following well behind the children.

"Hmm..." Cutler thought for a moment. He was a very analytical pig. "Perhaps. We haven't seen them when they are fed. Everypig is different, after they're fed."

Tourt Pière was giving both Cluckalina and Beaktrice a ride on his back. "They are a predator species, like the diamond dogs and the griffons. Not like the dragons, though." Tourt was acknowledged as the intellectual of the group. The only pig smarter had already been eaten. "Dragons are dangerous, but very honorable. Humans are sneaky. I would say they are like both diamond dogs and griffons put together. They have the pack instinct and situational hierarchical loyalty of the dogs, but they also have the unpredictability and viciousness of the griffons."

"Humans sound scary." Penderloin was doing his best to follow all the big words. "I hope we don't run into any!"

Tourt Pière ignored the comment. "They seem most like ponies when they are young, I think. But only sometimes, and then only for short periods of time. I can understand why Celestia, in her wisdom, wanted them transformed."

Cutler considered that. "Why so, Tourt?"

"I have always thought that she made a mistake with the dragons, griffons and dogs. That generosity on her part has caused endless trouble throughout the history of Equestria." Tourt Pière snorted as he trotted. "Only the Pax Equestria sorted that, and even there she has been held hostage for the sake of her ponies multiple times. Don't get me wrong. I believe in the essential goodness of our beloved princess. I just think that in the past she let her generosity exceed her wisdom about some matters."

Hamton was a very shocked pig to hear such criticism of the princess of the sun. "Surely she had her reasons, Tourt Pière! Perhaps she felt keeping the dragons and griffons as they were was necessary in some way we mere pigs cannot..."

"You know what I think, Hamton?" Tourt Pière snorted again, this time so loudly that one of the primates, the boy named Oliver, looked back at him briefly. "I think that our dear Celestia finally wised up when it came to the humans!"

Hamton felt so upset by this near blasphemy that he found himself quite speechless all the rest of the way to the stream.

The Southern Trail was crawling with diamond dogs.

"Dammit!" Milo hit the dirt with a fist. Asher sat and brooded. Isla began sniffing, which made Crème, who had been laying on top of her head like a living hat, begin to try to stroke her ear with a little paw.

For three days the children, pony, bunny, pigs and chickens had been traveling cross-country. Plantain's unerring nose had led them from stream to pond, so that everyone had water to drink. Food for the humans, who did not find the land of Equestria the unending feast that the pigs, chickens, pony and bunny did, had been a problem.

The human children were always hungry, and they seemed to need a great deal of food. Plantain sniffed out groves of fruits and the occasional patch of vegetables growing wild that the children could eat. They grumbled terribly about anything she managed to find.

Apparently, many of the human children did not actually like vegetables, and were very clear on the point. The fruit they seemed to like well enough, though some claimed it sour for being unripe, or too mushy for being overripe. The pigs went to great trouble to use their special talent to find truffles - their main offering to the ponies that normally cared for them - yet the human children wouldn't even touch the delicacies.

"They're supposed to be cooked!" Milo also had not liked the fact that the enormous truffle was dirty and that there was no convenient water nearby to wash it. Pointing out that dirt wasn't 'dirty' in Equestria the same way soil was on the vanished earth had made little difference.

"I have to say I understand why the ponies keep you though." Asher also would not eat the fungus, but he did seem to marvel at it. "Back on earth, even before the Collapse? A truffle like this could have bought ten farms. No wonder ponies keep you pigs. You are like living gold mines."

Despite the compliment, none of the children were willing to devour the odd looking, basketball-sized mass, so the pigs gobbled it themselves, shaking their heads the entire time.

"You... mnnn... try so hard for them... mnphmmm..." Hamton adored truffles.

"I know. Mnnnph, ummnn, I thought humans loved truffles." Cutler took another snoutfull of succulent fungus.

"Best walkies ever!" Penderloin did not seem to grasp the situation, but no pig could disagree with his sentiment in the moment.

The group sat for a long time watching the diamond dog pack stationed at the entrance to the Southern Trail. There were at least ten dogs, and maybe fifteen. It was hard to tell exactly, because they kept separating into little squads and making sweeps of the area near them. Seraphina was sure one of the dogs worked for the Fontbona family, which amazed Milo.

"They all look different, you know. If you bother." Seraphina huffed and shook her head.

"I know! Mister Tumblebumble has the cutest little spot, right on top of his little furry head!" Oliver practically squealed at the memory. "I hope Mister Tumblebumble isn't angry with me for leaving. He's such a good doggie!"

Asher stared in disbelief at the rotund boy. "You're shitting me, right? He let you name him that? 'Mister Tumblebumble?"

Oliver beamed. "Oh yes! He would bring me breakfast in bed, and tell me a story every night. I miss Mister Tumblebumble so very much." Oliver looked sad at that. "I'm sorry, Mister Tumblebumble."

"You're a totally bent little prat, aren't you?" Asher spit on the ground in disgust. "Just lop it off and put on a dress already! God."

"First," Seraphina pointed a finger at Asher "you shut up. Second, Petra - what do we do now?"

Asher humphed and sat down. Oliver looked embarrassed, ashamed, and on the verge of tears, and also a bit like he had been caught with a pudgy hand in the cookie jar - Which was, truth be told, not an uncommon event for the boy. Quiet little Isla scootched over on the ground and gave Oliver a gentle hug.

Petra looked at the dogs in the distance, at the unclimbable mountain, and the forest beside it. The Southern Trail went between forest and mountain. Petra turned to Plantain. "Easy! Let us travel just a little more to the south, and then cut through the forest. We shall make our own trail!"

Crème Bûnnée hopped away from Isla's lap and stood in front of Plantain. The little rabbit waved it's forepaws while jumping up and down. It made little squeaks while pointing to the forest. Finally it drew a paw across it's throat in a dramatic fashion and finished by crouching down and shivering.

"You don't understand Petra. That's not just any forest. That's the Everfree." Plantain shook her own head, slowly.

"Great, it's got a name! So what?" Asher did not seem impressed.

"Shut up, Asher." Seraphina gave the boy a hard look. "What is the problem, Plantain? Is it a scary forest?"

Petra studied the distant woods for a moment. "It doesn't look terribly frightening to me. It quite looks like the Amazon - well, before it became the Amazon Desert of course. It looks just like those old pictures! As long as we are careful... the land looks flat... and I can even see the other side from here!" They had decided to rest on the top of a largish hill, which provided the group with a fairly good view.

"Petra, everypony, listen, you don't understand." Plantain rubbed her head with her forehoof. "The Everfree isn't normal. It's a magic forest. The plants grow on their own, the weather happens of its own accord. Nopony knows all the strange creatures that live in there. Some say that distance and even time doesn't work the same inside the Everfree. Why do you think my spiders are working so hard to gain citizenship - they're giant spiders and they think the Everfree is too scary for them to live in!"

"That... is a fairly compelling argument." Milo hadn't liked the thought of the pony entertainer consorting with gigantic spiders from the moment it had been mentioned in front of him. If this forest was worse than that...

"This forest is truly that dangerous?" Petra could not see any other alternative. Going back north would be ever so traumatic, going further south would take forever and only take them farther and farther from their goal. The Canterlot mountains were impossible to climb, they were all nearly vertical!

"Oh Petra, you have no idea... there are monsters in there that..." Plantain was unable to finish her statement because Asher had made a decision.

"We're cutting through the forest."

Tiny little pellets fell from the cotton puff behind Crème.

"You can't be serious Asher, as I was trying to explain..." Again Plantain was cut off.

"We can't go north, they're waiting for us there. They're waiting for us right down there, a whole pack of dogs! Forget the mountain, it's impossible. You wanna live on berries and rutabagas with human mouths forever? Wanna just go back to mom and dad and say 'Hi dad! Sorry for running away and taking all the meat with us but the fact is I really, really wanted to be turned into a pony! Are we okay? Still pals?'"

All the children stared at the ground. The pigs and chickens looked insulted at the 'meat' comment. Plantain shook her head. "Maybe we can... go south? It's only a week or two until we reach Greater Fetlock, and then we can..."

"I can't go on like this for a week or two." Seraphina shook her head slowly. She looked up at Plantain. "None of us can. Listen, Plantain... Equestria is a paradise, I get that, I really do - but it's a pony paradise." The girl looked at the rest of the group. "Maybe a pig paradise too. But it's not a paradise for humans. We can't live forever sleeping on the ground and eating berries and the odd turnip. We definitely can't live on grass. I'd kill, if I could, for some buffalo wings right now. No offense." She instantly felt bad after noticing the chicken's reaction to her words.

Plantain watched the chickens nervously backing up. The pigs seemed a little uneasy too.

Asher stood up and began storming off to the southwest, toward the boundary of the Everfree, far away from the patrol routes of the diamond dogs guarding the trail. "Nothing in that forest - I don't care how magical it is - is worse than my dad. You losers can join me or wait to be caught."

It was unthinkable. Plantain knew it was just crazy-talk. But what other choice was there? Besides, ponies ducked into and out of the Everfree forest all the time! The stories of terrible tragedies and monstrous horrors were not everyday things.

Of course, no pony tried to walk straight across the Everfree every day either. Or every year. Truth be told, Plantain couldn't remember the last expedition to try to cross, from one side to the other, the Everfree.

Primarily because attempting it would be insane.

6. Fear And Desire

The Conversion Bureau

HUMAN

in Equestria
By Chatoyance

Fear And Desire

The border of the Everfree looked a bit gloomy, but it did not seem the least bit dangerous. As the children and Equestrians passed into it, only the latter seemed afraid, despite the discussion earlier. The children had been expecting to be pounced upon by dreadful horrors before they had even drawn near to the woods. When nothing at all happened, they began to doubt the worries of pigs and ponies entirely.

Milo, who felt himself every bit as studied about the old, pre-ecodisaster earth as Petra, insisted that the Everfree resembled the Northamerizonian Everglades more than the Amazon. Petra quite disagreed with the boy and the two got into an argument until Plantain and the pigs interrupted them with a lecture on the value of being quiet and unseen in what they considered a very dangerous place.

"We have been walking now for quite some time, I should say an hour at the least, and I honestly do not see what is so terrifying about this forest." Petra's stomach was unsettled from the somewhat green fruit that Plantain had found for them to eat. It had been sour and not entirely ripe, and all of the children were feeling somewhat cranky from it. The only child not perpetually upset was Isla, who somehow always seemed to be quite unreasonably quiet. Then again, she was perpetually entranced with the little bunny Crème, which seemed to sooth her greatly.

"I am surprised that you can't feel it! All the newfoals I've known told me that humans can sense magic, that it makes them feel strange, or sick, or that it burns them. If anything, humans are supposed to be overly sensitive to magic! I can certainly feel it, everywhere around us, and it is not nice magic at all. It is wild and strange and chaotic. I feel as if I were being hunted by griffons!" Plantain shivered at the thought. She had heard stories of the days, centuries ago, before the Pax Equestria.

"Celestia and Luna reconstructed us, Plantain. The only reason we can be here and not be ponies is that the princesses remade us out of the stuff of Equestria." Petra pushed her way through thick, dangling vines and wide, enormous leaves. "I suppose we were remapped like double-H-Gee objects into some different format."

"Double... H... gee?" Plantain hopped over a fallen log, trying to stay side-by-side with Petra.

"HHG... Holographic Hypernet Graphics. It's a graphics thing they used on the hypernet. You could see it on a screen or just download it right into your head if you had the right implants. I once had a quite lovely art program I would play with back in Antarctica. I made a very nice model of princess Celestia within it, and uploaded it to... well, never mind. I dare say it doesn't matter anymore." Petra realized she felt thirsty, and hot, and that she was not at all happy.

"Plantain, is there any water about? I am ever so dry, and I think we could all use something to drink again." Petra looked about, hoping to see a stream or a river, or even a clear spot to sit down for a while. "Also, I could use a rest."

The chestnut pony began sniffing intently at the air, trying to concentrate. It was difficult because the children behind Petra were still jabbering about various things despite the constant requests to be quiet in the forest.

There was no water immediately nearby, but Plantain's sensitive ears did hear the sound of faint, playful yips. "I think I've found a safe place to rest for a while. No water yet."

"Please guide us then, if you please." Petra turned to the children, pigs and chickens who had caught up. "We are going to take a rest for a while just ahead."

"I'm thirsty!" Isla normally said little, when she did speak it was usually serious. The little girl must be very thirsty indeed.

"Plantain hasn't found water yet, but I am sure she will. I'm sorry, Isla, please try to be strong!" Petra felt the dryness of her own throat. Her lips felt dry too.

As the children followed Plantain, the soft sound of yapping and the occasional canine bark filled their ears. It was not constant but occasional, yet the voices of playful pups were unmistakable.

Plantain led the group to a wide clearing in the thick verdancy. The sound of puppies seemed to come from the clearing, from everywhere and nowhere.

"Little doggies?" Isla scanned the area but saw no wagging tails nor padding paws.

"What, invisible dogs? Where is that noise coming from?" Asher didn't seem overly happy about puppies, which surprised no one.

"Dogwood trees." Plantain sat down with a huff. She was tired too.

"You're making that up!" Seraphina half laughed and half accused as she found a fallen log to rest on.

"What?" Plantain decided to fold her foreknees and lay down entirely. Ah... that was better.

"You're making fun of us. Dogwoods. Because of the barking." Seraphina tried to comb her hair with her fingers, but it wasn't working very well.

"That's whats making the sound. All around us. They like clearings for some reason." Plantain poked a hoof at some odd-looking, short, stumpy trees that surrounded the circular area. "Dogwood trees are good protection in the Everfree. Their barking scares away a lot of things. They like nice creatures, which is why they sound happy right now."

Seraphina and Petra and the other children fell quiet and listened carefully. Surely enough, the sound of happy yips, soft, playful growls, and panting could be heard from the odd, short trees.

Little Isla walked timorously to one of the small trees and noticed it was covered in short fibers, almost like fur. She stretched out a hand, slowly, and stroked the fibers. The tree made cute sounds, as if it were happy at the touch. "It likes me!" Isla smiled and began patting the little tree in earnest. It produced a friendly bark.

"This is just..." Asher shook his head. "Your world is nuts, pony... Dog Wood trees... what's next? Snow Bunnies?"

Crème ran to Plantain and clutched her leg. Plantain gave her friend a nuzzle. "Oh, you wouldn't want to run into one of those."

Asher seemed startled, then developed an incredulous half-grin. "Really." Plantain seemed serious. "What can a snow bunny do? Cuddle you to death?"

Plantain stared at the boy. "Hardly. Snow Bunnies are mostly peaceful. They hide out during the day. But if something scary startles them, they can freeze everything around them. The cold just spreads, turning things to ice, frosting over plant and animal alike. It's horrifying, Asher. Snow Bunnies are worse than Timber Wolves. You can outrun a Timber Wolf, or kick it into sticks if you get cornered. But Snow Bunnies..."

"Wait... what do you mean..." Asher felt more than confused. His brain had jumped directly to being perplexed, bypassing befuddlement all together. "You can't kick a wolf into sticks!"

"Of course you can. If you can buck them hard enough. And if it isn't a really big one. The big ones aren't made of sticks, the really big ones are made out of entire trees!" Plantain could see Asher simply didn't believe a word she was saying, but for the life of her, she could not understand why.

A rustling sound came from the place where Isla sat. What looked like a lumpen mass of lush green leaves was stumping around on two tiny, short legs made of twisted roots. The small plant-creature seemed to be playing with Isla, who for her part began to giggle as she wiggled her fingers low for the emerald biped of foliage to follow.

Asher stood transfixed, his perplexity sublimated into an instantaneous state of helpless stupefaction. "What..."

The other children clustered together, all astonished, all watching Isla play with what looked like a little animated topiary.

"A Bush Baby!" Plantain seemed happy. "Oh, that's a very good sign! If there are Bush Babies about, then this is an especially safe spot! Poor little things are easily caught and devoured, so you can only find them where nasty things aren't."

Asher, regaining some of his wits, studied the living plant creature and finally dared to offer his thoughts. "I guess a 'Timber Wolf' in this world is made out of..."

"Made out of branches and wood. Of course. What else could it be?" Plantain relaxed, feeling relieved that there was no current danger. "I couldn't understand why you seemed to not believe what I had to say - you had clearly heard of Snow Bunnies before."

Asher sat down on the ground, watching the Bush Baby struggle to climb up on the log where Isla sat. Isla reached down and picked the little, squirming mass of leaves up. It seemed to want to be held, and relaxed in her arms. Isla began cooing to the bizarre creature, which only appeared to make it happier.

As Plantain watched, a tear slid slowly down Asher's cheek. He turned away and began poking the ground with a stick. She wanted to find out what was bothering him - any pony would have felt the same way - but she had dealt with enough newfoals to know that humans were sometimes odd about sharing their emotions.

"Plantain?" Petra sat down on the ground next to her and allowed Crème to climb into her lap. With Isla occupied, Crème almost seemed jealous, so Petra gave the little doe a proper scratching around the ears, under the brim of the bunny's hat.

"Mnn?" Plantain was still pondering the mystery of Asher.

"After the princesses change us into proper ponies..." Of course they would, Petra thought. Surely they would. Luna had said as much - Petra had remembered her final words to her. The princesses would definitely change them. "...then what? We can't go back to our parents, they wouldn't want us in the least, and I certainly wouldn't want to face my mother's wrath in any body, pony or human. Are there... some kind of child services in Equestria? Is there a place for fillies without a home?" The last thing Petra wanted to say was 'orphanage', but it was certainly what she was thinking.

Plantain snapped back from considering the tear on Asher's cheek and turned to Petra. "Um... no. There's no place, no specific place anyway, for fillies without homes. Because that just doesn't happen. Ponies don't foal very often, so fillies and colts are very treasured. I've heard that humans on earth had lots and lots of babies, most of them unwanted. There are lots of foalless ponies who would be more than happy to give all of you homes! You'll have ponies begging you to join their families."

"Oh... that's right." Petra remembered reading an article on the hypernet about how the Equestrians had very low birth rates. They lived a very long time and had very few children. Entire towns might have no more than ten or twenty foals at any given time. Once the children were transformed, they would all become what Father would have called a 'high value commodity'.

"Won't we just be shipped out to those 'Exponential Lands' that were made out of the earth? We would be newfoals then, after all." Seraphina almost sounded bitter. "I think being changed will be our first and last look at Canterlot."

"Oh, please don't be that way, Seraphina!" Petra had noted the intonation of the older girl. "There were billions and billions of us on the earth and not even a single billion of the ponies - even including the dragons, dogs and other creatures of Equestria! Where else could they put all of us? If all the humans tried to live in the Equestria we've heard about, there would be no room for anyone to even sit down!"

Seraphina hung her head. "I know. I know." She looked up and made another attempt to straighten her tangled hair. Sleeping on the ground had been difficult for all of the children. "It's just that I've heard stories that they have to start from scratch out there, and I'm not keen on physical labor of any sort."

"Maybe not now..." Plantain shifted so that her hind legs were more comfortable. "But if you become an earthpony like me, using your body will become a joy. I promise!" Plantain smiled. "Newfoals I've talked to who became earthponies say they feel a hundred times stronger and lots more powerful. I've seen grown-up newfoals just run around all day long like colts and fillies just because they could. They were eager to pull and lift and haul things, because they said it felt good!"

"What if I don't become an earthpony like you?" Seraphina was not convinced.

"It's kinda the same, really, only with other abilities. The unicorns aren't strong, but they can do magic, and the newfoals who became unicorns that I know can't seem to get enough chances to use their horns. The pegasai... you can't keep 'em on the ground. One of the best fliers I've ever met was a newfoal pegasus. Thunder Road - she worked her way up into owning a carriage service, then joined the Happy Pony show. She used to give rides through storms, but then she found her real calling was aerial ballet! When she flew, even when it was hard to do, she had to fight from grinning.

"Seriously. Thunder'd do these moody dance pieces and grin like a hinny the whole time. Paine used to get upset." Plantain recalled the bright red pegasus mare nearly laughing with delight while dancing in the air to the most somber music.

Milo, who had sat down nearby to listen in, leaned forward. "Don't you mean 'grin like a ninny?'"

"What's a 'Ninny'?" Plantain scratched her head with a hoof.

"Petra..." Seraphina had given up trying to do anything about her hair, and was pointlessly attempting to scrape a stain off of her clothing. "Why do you want to be a pony? I mean... you're a Bettencourt. I would have assumed that..." The older girl's voice trailed off. She was unsure how to phrase anything beyond that point.

"It's not simple rebellion, or anything like that." Petra rubbed her sore legs. This journey had been the most physical activity any of the children had ever done, except for Asher, who claimed to have gone climbing in the mountains of Antarctica with his uncle. "I... I truly fell in love with the princess, and with the things she told me about Equestria. I watched every program and read every article that my caretakers would allow. When Celestia was forced to leave by the rules of the Covenant, I was ever so sad. But I found a program, a program about a human girl going through a Bureau. More than anything in both worlds, I wanted to do the same. But... I was forbidden."

"No... that's not quite what I mean." Seraphina struggled for a while, inside her head, trying to find just the right words. At the edge of the clearing, Isla had sung the little Bush Baby to sleep. Now she was rocking it in her arms. Seraphina looked back at Petra. "What I am asking is... what is it about actually being a pony... that makes you want to be one. It will be forever, for the rest of our lives you know."

Petra smiled, not a Bettencourt smile at all, but a very rare thing instead, a genuine Petra smile. "Oh! Where to begin! I want to run and play and feel the wind in my mane! I want to be just another pony, and not some... well, 'Bettencourt'. I want to belong to Celestia, so that she can never be taken away again. I don't care at all what kind of pony I should become. Whatever type I would be happy, and dance upon my lovely hooves in gratitude!"

Seraphina became thoughtful, taking that in. Milo crawled closer, fully engaged now. "That's not enough. You can run and feel the wind in your hair now. I understand the bit about Celestia. I think we all do." Milo noted the 'humph' from Asher, behind him. "Most of us, anyway. I'd also like to know what being a pony really means. To you."

Petra became quiet. Her innocent smile died on her face. "Celestia told me ponies don't think like we do. Not entirely. Sometimes... sometimes I think very bad thoughts. I think terrible things about simply everyone. When I have been very, very cross with mother, I have wanted her to be killed in front of me. Not quickly, but quite slowly, with a very great deal of screaming and begging for mercy. I have wanted to see her taken apart, bit by bit, until all she could do is flail her stumps at me and beg me to spare her life. I have wanted to take her eyes and make them my marbles."

Plantain was rigid, every muscle in her pony body on alert. This was not the simple matter of when humans swore and the emotional violence that felt disturbing in the moment. The fact that her friend Petra could even imagine such terrible... whatever it was. Plantain's mind slipped around a sudden void in her memory where the awful things were that Petra had just spoken, a protective pony thought cocoon that she could sense but thankfully not penetrate. The fact that Petra could... say... whatever it was that she had said... deeply disturbed and frightened Plantain.

Her newfoal friends in the Happy Pony Show had tried to explain to her that humans had been dangerous, that even the nicest of them were capable of thinking the most truly terrible thoughts. But - because they had been ponified - it had been impossible for her newfoal friends to explain what those terrible thoughts actually were.

Now, she had heard something of what humans could think about that ponies could not, and the feeling of it made Plantain want to jump up and gallop as fast as she could far, far away, in any direction so long as it wasn't here. Her very coat felt like it was rippling over her muscles, trying to move just a little further away from Petra's body heat. Plantain calmed herself by remembering that in all of this time, Petra had been nothing but sweet, and that almost certainly the other human children surrounding her never thought things like that.

"Oh, god. I am so glad you said that." Milo breathed out a sigh of relief. "Me too. All the time. Hell, I've wanted to hammer the brains right out of the heads of some of the kids in Paris. I almost did too - I had a hammer, it had this really sharp end, and there was this one kid, and I was sure I could get away with it. Would have too, if it hadn't been for..." Milo took another deep breath. "Anyway, after Celestia, I never, ever wanted to think stuff like that again. I'm glad I didn't hurt that kid but... I was really angry. I planned it all out and everything. I would have done it, too. I want to be a pony so I never, ever have to feel that way again."

"I think we're all agreed then!" Seraphina laughed and Milo and Petra joined in. "We don't like our angry dark sides one bit. I would also add that I don't want to end up like my parents. My mother is such a narrow, bigoted thing. She hates all sorts of people for the dumbest of reasons. My father only cares about power and who is at which rank or in what circle. I don't want any part of that! When I look at ponies, I see a life where everyone just... well... is. They can be friends and never worry that someday..."

"That someday they'll get stabbed in the back." Asher had finally turned around. "That's what it's all about, really. Deep down, every man has his price. That's what my dad says. Your own family will cut your throat, if the price is right. You can't trust anyone human." Asher studied the other children with narrowed eyes. "Or any special pony who deals with humans."

Nobody imagined he wasn't referring to Celestia. It was obvious he meant Celestia.

Plantain had watched as Crème slowly, like a little fuzzy spider, crept out of Petra's lap without her even noticing. Crème was now pressed against the back of Plantain's neck, having covered herself with long strands of yellow mane. Plantain could feel the bunny clinging so tightly that her withers hurt from the grasp of little, frightened paws.

Isla joined the group, having left the sleeping Bush Baby on the ground by the log. The little girl sat down next to Oliver, who had been quietly listening the whole time. Isla gave Oliver a little squeeze after she was settled. "I think bad thoughts sometimes, too."

Seraphina turned to Isla. "Is that why you want to be a pony, Isla? To make the bad thoughts go away?"

Isla was looking around for Crème, but the little bunny was well hidden in Plantain's mane. Finally she looked up at Seraphina.

"Yes. That and... I don't like how people treat each other." Isla put her arm through Oliver's surprising him. She nibbled on the index finger of her other hand for a moment. "I don't like how my daddy looks down on the other families, or how everyone looks down on Oliver."

Oliver found something on the ground very interesting.

"But what about all the court ponies in Canterlot? That's the same thing!" Milo was not persuaded by Isla in the least.

"Yes... they have that. But that court stuff isn't for life. Plantain's mother wanted her to be a court pony. With us... you're stuck." Isla gave Oliver's arm a hug. "When we're ponies, Oliver, we're gonna all be ponies, and nopony looks down on any other pony."

"Oliver." Petra found herself curious. "Why do you want to be a pony?"

Oliver seemed startled at the question. Also nervous. "All of those reasons. And..."

The breeze rustled the treetops. No pegasus had generated it. Only the Equestrians found this eerie and disturbing. Plantain watched the little Bush Baby wake up and stand. After shaking it's leaves, it ran off into the forest, apparently in quite a hurry.

"And...?" Petra coaxed.

Oliver seemed very far away, and not a little frightened. "I don't know."

It seemed very much to everyone that he did know, but that he just didn't want to say. For a while, all that could be heard was the sound of the Dog Woods growling at the edge of the clearing. Nobody knew quite what to say, and it was clear that Oliver did not want to be asked any more questions.

Finally, Petra turned to Asher. With her, every eye - except for Oliver - also turned to Asher. Asher finally broke when he saw the chickens join the pigs in staring at him.

"You wanna know why I want to be a pony?" Asher stood up, and stretched his legs. He brushed the forest from his pants. "I know what you think. Asher - he's an asshole. Don't even bother, Seraphina - 'Oh!'" he mocked "'Dear me! I can't even imagine you as a pony!' Suck it, Sera! I have as much reason as any of you dorks to be a pony. More, if you only knew. So just leave me alone!"

"But... we really do want to know." Seraphina felt bad for what she had said the day before. "I'm sorry for what I said, but you have been a bit... well, rude."

"Yeah! Yeah, maybe I have been rude! Maybe I'm angry, maybe..."

Asher never got to finish his statement because that was the very moment something snakelike, pitch black and strangely shimmery scraped the top of his scalp straight off of his naked skull. Asher didn't even make a sound as he fell, in shock, to his knees, the blood beginning to trickle down his face.

The dying skin and hair that had previously covered the top of the boy's head fell with a plop into the leaves beside him.

7. Sticks And Stones

The Conversion Bureau

HUMAN

in Equestria
By Chatoyance

Sticks And Stones

Asher's father was yelling at him again. His face was red with anger, his eyes wide and bloodshot with rage.

"Bambi? You're watching fucking Bambi?" Asher felt himself roughly seized by the collar and dragged. The massive arm lifted him by his shirt and threw him at the wall. He impacted with a thud and thumped to the floor, his breath knocked out of him.

"You can't live on fantasy, you little faggot!" Asher's father was on him now, having dragged him away from the wall. His father's breath, rancid with stomach acid and adrenaline, was a hot wind on the boy's face. "Shows for little girls? This is what you do with your spare time? You want I should cut it off? You want to be a girl, is that it you little shit?"

Asher didn't even feel the hit that knocked his vision askew. The ragged hole in his feelings hurt worse than anything his dad's fists could do. "I didn't raise you to be a fucking piece of shit cocksucker! You should be out there, with a job, leading an empire, not sitting in here with your Golden books and girly toys and watching mincing bunnies!"

Asher tried to complain that he was only ten, that he was only a kid.

"You're nearly an adult you little piece of shit! Grow up or I'll fucking kill you, do you understand? Do you? DO YOU?" Asher's father dripped sweat and hatred as he loomed over the boy.

"...yes..."

"WHAT? TALK LIKE A MAN YOU LITTLE SHIT!"

"...Yes... yes sir. I'm sorry, I won't do it again, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

"No, you won't do it again." Asher's dad was suddenly cold as ice. He began methodically stuffing Asher's entire romball collection, and all of his toys into the waste bin. He picked up Lilly, Asher's stuffed leopard doll from when he was a baby. "Men don't need shit like this." Lilly's arms followed her head as Sergey Brendalthorpe Brin's strong hands ripped Asher's best friend into stuffing spewing bits. All went into the bin.

Asher couldn't help crying. Lilly was his only friend.

The hand that had tried to erase his tears with violence sent him smacking into the edge of the closet. Asher heard a dripping sound. His head was bleeding, where his scalp had been split by the edge of the door. He lay there, watching a small red pool spread across the floor. His dad would be angry about that. He would get yelled at for staining the floor and making a mess.

Suddenly, Asher was pulled back from the closet door. He found himself being dragged across leaves and sticks, pulled by several hands. His dad would be really mad now, with the floor covered in filth like that.

"Asher! Oh, Asher!" Seraphina's face was wet. That was odd. Good Family girls never cried. It wasn't proper.

"Put this over it. Just do it!" It sounded like Petra, that stuck-up Bettencourt. "Press the cloth in, tight. Just press. Keep pressing!"

"So much blood!" Isla. Isla was weird.

"Pressing will stop the blood. Use the shirt to soak it up! Press hard!" Petra, always giving orders. She was a little bitch, just like dad said.

The top of Asher's head felt cold. He wanted to tell everyone to leave him alone, but his body didn't want to obey. He flopped his arms and legs, but it felt like remote control, like some kind of faulty telepresence with a bad connection.

"I found his... hair." Isla stood over a ragged mass of blond and crimson laying sticky on the forest floor. "I don't have to touch it do I?"

"Forget about that!" Petra stood up. Seraphina was tending Asher. "Everybody! Grab sticks. Long ones!"

The children cautiously darted out from the center of the clearing where they had all gathered together. Milo had managed to grab a long branch that had fallen down. He began tearing leaves and twigs off of it to make something vaguely spear-like.

Oliver snagged a whispy branch, then discarded it. It was obviously useless for anything except sweeping. Looking furtively about, he grabbed a pair of large stones to throw. "I couldn't find a stick. I got some rocks instead!"

"Whatever! Just get something, anything! It's still out there!" Petra's point was proven by the thin whiplike swish of shimmer and black that threw leaves into the air. A large, dark, insubstantial shadow padded swiftly through the green just beyond the circle of Dog Wood trees. For the briefest of moments, Petra saw golden, slitted eyes.

Isla took hold of a stick that would have made a decent pencil or wand, but not much else. She sat down next to Seraphina and Asher, and started to cry, softly.

"What is it? I can't even see it clearly!" Milo, crouching low, jerked his head from one edge of the clearing to the next, trying to see where the shadow thing was. The Dog Wood trees had stopped growling long ago, now they howled continuously, enraged to the loudest of anger-strangled barks.

"It's there!" Petra pointed to a part of the woods where she had been sure she had seen motion. "No... THERE!" The massive shape moved with such lithe precision - it slipped in and out of the ocean of dark leaves in the way that dolphins had once been described.

"Petra." Plantain had been convincing the pigs and chickens not to bolt. Hamton and Cutler were working together with Tourt Pière to keep Penderloin and the chickens in place. Their natural instinct was to flee, but that would merely have made hors d'oeuvres of them. The creature would not pass the barking, yowling Dog Wood trees.

"What?" Petra had managed to take hold of a long, solid length of branch, mostly straight. She was busy both watching the perimeter and breaking off any leaves or twigs from her makeshift weapon.

"I think I know what it is." Plantain swallowed. "It isn't good."

"I can tell it isn't good, Plantain, it took the top off of Asher's head!" The sight of the boy's scalp being torn from him and landing in a ragged heap had been one of the more shocking things that Petra had seen in her life. Somehow it was worse than the time in Antarctica where her guardians had gunned down a man who tried to approach her in the wrong situation. She hadn't known the man, she knew Asher.

"We can't fight it. We can't even hope to fight it." Petra did not want to hear this from the pony.

"So what are we supposed to do then?" Petra briefly flirted with using a rock to try to sharpen the end of her branch, but found that wood was a great deal harder than she had imagined. "Hide, and hope it goes away?"

"I'm hoping the Dog Woods will annoy it enough it will leave. Displacer's don't like dogs, even wood ones." Plantain turned her body so that her tail faced away from the center of the group. She took a defensive posture, ready to buck with every last ounce of her earthpony strength.

"Dis-what?" It was ridiculous, really, but somehow having a name for what was stalking them felt like having some power, however small, over the situation. A named thing seemed more conquerable than an anonymous creature.

"It's a Coeurl. A Displacer Beast. They're like a really big panther. With razor tentacles." Plantain felt a wind whip her tail, so she struck out instinctively with her hind legs. She felt her hooves briefly tap the sweeping snake before it returned to the trees and the dark mass that owned it. It was entirely an accident that she had so much as tapped the horror - Displacer's were never quite where they seemed to be. That was their special, terrible power.

Petra saw the dark shape move against the darker forest, then shimmer and submerge into the sea of leaves. There was a terrible, cat-like hiss that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. "The Dog Wood trees - can they attack it? Can they kill it?"

Plantain scanned the edge of the clearing, her long neck twisting this way and that. Crème Bûnnée clung to Plantain's mane, her little paws wrapped tight in coils of yellow hair.

"No. They just bark. They're trees! They can't move!" Plantain heard, rather than saw, another sweep of a toothed tentacle skim over the floor of the clearing. The creature was fishing for them.

"The Bush Baby could move!" Now was not the time to get into an argument about Equestrian botany, but the mere act of talking - about anything - seemed preferable to cowering in silence. Silence seemed like having lost already.

"Bush Babies aren't trees!" Milo and Plantain both lashed out with weaponized branch and bucking hoof as another dark, shimmery whip slashed near. Neither hit anything, even though Milo was certain he had smashed his branch down on the long tentacle perfectly.

"Then what can they do?" As Petra watched, the dark shape seemed to be becoming more brazen and confident. For a full three seconds, as if taunting her, the creature stood still, no longer shimmering, in a patch of sunlight outside the clearing. Petra felt as if the monster was deliberately letting her see it.

The beast was black, dark as midnight, and enormous. It was, without any question, a cat, a big cat. Fluid, sinuous curves defined the feline shape. The creature was supported by six powerful, horribly beclawed legs, rippling with muscles. The two impossibly long, black-furred tentacles swept forward like deadly vipers. Under the flat, spade-shaped tips, rows of jagged daggers made it clear what had playfully scalped poor Asher. The small, narrow head, low and mostly jaw, grinned swords at Petra while the glowing, golden eyes narrowed with evil, and hungry, glee.

The Displacer shimmered, fading like a dream and left trails in the air as it slipped back into the enfolding verdure.

"They bark." Plantain's answer was far less than enough after the vision that Petra had witnessed. Petra sat on the ground, and let her wooden pole roll from her fingers. Dimly, she realized why the awful cat had let her see it. She felt as if the last of her will to live had simply melted into the ground.

The whipping swishes had stopped. There was no sign of the beast now. The children and pigs looked about in fright, jerking at every little sound, every little breeze. Had the monster left? Was it waiting out there? Just like that, there was no sign of it anymore.

"How... how do you know such things?" Petra did not for an instant think the creature had left. It was out there. Waiting. She was certain of it. She could almost feel it calculating, planning, as if that brief glimpse had linked them somehow. For all she knew that was factually true - this was Equestria, and this forest was the strangest and most chaotic part of the magical land. Anything could happen here.

"What... what do you mean?" Plantain kept darting her head. An attack might come from any direction.

"Bush Babies, Dog Woods and Timber Wolves. You're just a filly, you said. An entertainer. You perform in cities. How do you know things like that?" It had been nagging at Petra. Plantain seemed to know an awful lot of very strange things that had nothing to do with ponies and cities and being on stage.

Crème jerked at Plantain's mane. Plantain ignored it. "I... just know. You learn things, being on the road. I've met a lot of ponies." The words sounded false even as she spoke them.

"Maybe it's safe now?" Oliver began to cautiously stand up. "Maybe the bad kitty gave up!" Isla grabbed Oliver's coat and tried to tug on it to force him to sit down again.

A Dog Wood Tree exploded with a canine scream. Fragments of wood and leaves showered the clearing. Bits of fur-fiber drifted down. Some got into Oliver's mouth as he quickly went to ground again. The delicate boy spit repeatedly before using his fingers to remove the last of the hair-like plant fibers.

The Dog Wood trees were yowling much louder than before, a cacophony of barks and strangled cries. The clearing was filled with noise that hurt the ears. When the tree had been destroyed, Petra had instantly looked in that direction. Before she had closed her eyes against the flying bark and leaves and fibers, she was sure she had seen a shimmering snake of black.

It was impossible to talk with the horrific yelping of the trees, so the children and pigs and chickens and pony and bunny sat together in silence, pressed tight for what meager comfort they could offer each other. The pigs panted, their fat bodies working like pink bellows. The chickens stood like statues, except for poor Beaktrice, who had outright fainted.

When the barking and yowling had died down enough for words to be heard, Cutler the pig finally spoke.

"I've been considering things." Tourt Pière might be the most learned and intellectual of the swine, but Cutler was the most analytical of the pigs. "I think the Beast cannot bear the sound of the trees. It will come back, I think, again and again, until all of the Dog Woods are gone. Then it will feast."

"Shut up!" Seraphina was still pressing on Asher's head, as best she could. She had never stopped. Milo's shirt, which he had offered instantly, was now a solid crimson mass of wetness. Asher didn't seem to be bleeding anymore, but he was not well. He lay unnaturally quiet, shivering despite the steamy warmth of the jungle-like environment. The look in his eyes was very far away.

Petra took off her coat. It was her treasure, the first piece of Equestrian clothing she had been given. After she had been reconstructed, she had been taken to a room to change clothing before the pegasus carriage to Equestria. Anything made of earth matter might not survive the flight through the barrier. There had been a number of boxes, each containing clothing that had been made from Equestrian fabrics and materials. Petra had been delighted at the pretty, red coat.

"Put this over Asher. Try to keep him warm." Petra tossed the coat over Asher's body as best as she could, then turned and picked up her stick once more.

"But it's too warm!" Seraphina's hands were drenched with blood, as was her clothing. She wasn't thinking straight anymore.

"He's shivering. Look at him!" Petra turned to stare at Plantain. Instead, she noticed a pair of beady, black eyes looking at her from inside the pony's yellow mane. The bunny doe began jerking Plantain's mane over and over as if trying to tear it out by the roots.

"Plantain." The pony wouldn't look at her.

Out of the corner of her eye, Petra saw another Dog Wood detonate into woody shrapnel. Again the children were dusted with fibers and leaves and bits of wood. Once more the discordant symphony of shrieking puppies made speech impossible.

When their ears had stopped ringing, Cutler could be heard. "Yup. Two down, ten to go. Twelve trees. It may not need all of them gone. Depends on how hungry it is, and how much the barking hurts it." Seraphina raised a hand to slap the pig, to hit it as hard as she could, but then slowly lowered her arm. Cutler, for his part, did not even flinch.

"Plantain." Petra watched as the little white shape of Crème Bûnnée began slapping and pounding the withers of the chestnut filly. When that did not work, she dropped to all fours, knocking her hat entirely off. The little top hat fell to the ground. Crème pushed aside pony coat and bit as hard and as deep as she could. Petra saw a tiny bead of blood on Plantain's ruddy neck.

The trees were almost quiet now.

"The spiders had a hard time convincing the princesses to let them stay. Celestia wanted to send them back to the Everfree the moment she saw them. She said I was irresponsible for putting them into the show." Plantain had not reacted at all to Crème biting her hard enough to break her skin. "But I translated for them, I fought for them, as much as I could. If it hadn't been for princess Luna stepping in..."

"You know another creature from the Everfree, don't you?" Petra watched as Crème stopped biting and looked up at her. The dark eyes stared back, as the little bunny's crimson-stained mouth slowly closed.

"She's my best friend, Petra. Nothing I could say would convince either princess, if they knew." Plantain's eyes filled with tears. "My best friend in the whole world. She made it possible to get the other bunnies to dance. She taught me how to speak with the spiders. I would be nothing without her. Nothing. Just... just some fancy stallion's 'plus one'. Another empty, Canterlot socialite for my mom."

"I don't understand. She's completely sweet. She is utterly charming. How could the princesses ever dislike dear little Crème?" Petra noticed the other children slowly beginning to catch on as they looked at the little creature.

"They can't help it, they really can't. I've been lucky so far, I know it." Plantain was crying now, she couldn't stop. "She's warned me. She can write you know. With a pencil, she can write. She's taught me all sorts of things. So many things."

"What, what did she warn you about?" Petra had an inkling, but she needed to know for sure.

"They can't help it. She's only part Snow Bunny, but it's still part of her. She's cold to the touch. It's their defense, the only one they have!" Plantain sniffled. "They can't help that they can't always control it. There's always a risk, but Crème's only lost it twice, and both of those times were out in the fields..."

"What happened?" It was not merely a question.

"She didn't mean to. The bunnies... the other bunnies just weren't fast enough. They tried to run... but..." Plantain was crying again. "Crème got spooked! They said there was a cockatrice on the loose, it was all over, and... Crème just got spooked and..."

"That's why... you said you had a whole troupe of dancing bunnies and... oh dear." If rabbits couldn't outrun what a Snow Bunny could do... the thought sent a shiver down Petra's back. She looked into the dark eyes of the little lapine on Plantain's back. The little bunny was a living, carrot eating, deadly cryogenic bomb.

"It wasn't your mother, was it?" Plantain cried harder still. "That wasn't why you had to leave your show."

"There... there weren't any... any bunnies... left... to dance..." Plantain collapsed, perilously almost unseating the clinging Crème. The little bunny doe clung to her friend, stroking her withers gently, lovingly, trying to comfort her.

It was terribly rude of course, but inside herself Petra couldn't help but think how much better it would have been if Crème had detonated over the banana spiders instead. Bunnies were so much cuter than spiders, there was just no getting around that fact. "Could... Crème... do that to us?" The question had to be asked. It would have been in any case - it was in the minds of nearly all of the remaining children, pigs and chickens except for Asher, who was in shock, and Penderloin, who was perpetually absent in mentia.

"But she hasn't!" Plantain looked up with pleading, reddened eyes.

Another Dog Wood was shattered by the slash of a ropy, ghostly tentacle. Petra saw the event clearly, the dark shape bolder now, dashing close to the clearing, whipping the little tree en passant, before flowing back into the endless darkness of the Everfree.

It was some time before anyone could speak again, but it was shorter than before, and the Dog Woods sounded more mournful and baying than their previous ferocious barking. Where Equestria was gentle and kind, the Everfree was harsh and cruel, and every warning the children had heard before entering seemed now to mock them in their hearts.

"All this time!" Seraphina was busy tending to Asher, who had stopped shivering, but still looked very pale and far gone. "All this time we've been under the most terrible threat and you never thought once to tell us?" She was livid, angry and betrayed, afraid for herself and the others, and overcome with the horrors of the moment. "How could you do such a thing? You're... you're a PONY!"

She had spoken the word as if it answered everything. In a way, it did, for most of the children.

"Crème is my BEST friend!" The reply was defiant, fierce. "You... you humans might turn on each other right and left and think evil things but you're right - I AM a pony, and I take care of my friends NO MATTER WHAT!" Plantain, standing again, shifted her hindquarters, no longer aiming exclusively at the dangers of the forest. Any child that went for Crème would face her hooves.

The dark shape was approaching. This time, it was ever so slow. It padded soundlessly out of the sheltering trees, head low and tentacles wide and high above its nigrescent back. It's panther mouth grinned knives and daggers at them.

"Plantain!" Petra whispered harshly. "Everyone!"

All divisions between the group vanished instantly with the advent of what likely was an earnest attack. The Beast was huge, and they had already seen how quickly it could move. It was difficult to even hit, because it shimmered and shifted in some strange direction that neither eye nor stick could follow. The living nightmare left a clawed print for the first time within the boundary of the clearing. With three Dog Woods gone, the perimeter was no longer a barrier.

The ebon nightmare stopped, holding still as if it had been turned to stone. Then the powerful muscles of the two hind pairs of legs began to tense and thicken. The yellow eyes narrowed, the slits within them widening. The claws on the forward pare of legs dug into the ground.

The massive jaw began to slowly open, the knives and swords of enamel within them drooling thin streamers of digestive juice.

Milo had slowly been bringing his branch up, to hold it as a spear. Petra had done the same with her own. Oliver readied a rock, prepared to toss it overhand at a moment's notice. Little Isla held her short twig ahead of her, as if she imagined it a wand of fireballs.

Seraphina, whimpering, covered Asher's coat-shrouded body with her own, making a shield of her living flesh.

Plantain, her flanks facing the incarnation of death, braced her forelegs. "Everypony! Drop flat! Don't even try. It will go for me, I know it will. I've got the most meat. Just drop! Now!"

Petra was aghast. "That's stupid! We're in this together!"

"You don't understand! Celestia will come for me, after! In that moment, I can tell her where we are and she can save you!"

"You mean..." The true horror of their real vulnerability suddenly struck Petra. "After you die."

"You can't afford to get killed!" Plantain wiggled her rump and swished her tail like a flag at the beast. "You've got nothing inside!"

The Covenant. Father always said Celestia was a stickler for the law. If it was written down, if she gave her word, she would keep it to the letter, no matter what. No matter who got hurt, no matter what the result. Celestia was Law.

Human. The entire Covenant existed so that the elite could remain human while the entire world was turned into ponies. And Celestia had kept her word, as she always did. Celestia always kept her promises. Humans could lie and cheat and steal. But Celestia existed to protect her peace, and her peace was based on her promise.

Petra, like her parents, like all the elite, were as human as it was possible to be within Equestria. Completely human. Completely mortal.

She felt the fear take her. Petra began to shake, her stick quivering in her grasp.

It happened so very quickly that the motion only registered after the fact. Petra felt dark fur against her cheek. She did not feel the errant claw slash open the side of her arm. When the tenebrious wind had blown past, before the blood began to trickle from her accidental wound, she found herself being dragged by pony teeth.

Plantain was galloping, running as fast as she could while stumbling and dragging Petra like a rag doll. Her every hoof fall thudded desperately, pounding not always into ground, but more than once onto Petra's dragging arm or leg. Petra did not feel her arm snap during one such impact, all she was aware of was the sensation of motion and the blossom of white behind Plantain's flowing tail.

It looked like an explosion in slow motion. Spikes and jagged blossoms of niveous alabaster expanded outward at a frightening pace. The chickens could not hope to escape it, Cluckalina was a statue of frost, wings spread, attempting hopeless flight. As the ground bumped below her, and the enshrouding leaves claimed her view, she glimpsed the pink bulk of silly Penderloin turning to snow, his dumbfounded eyes unaware of his last, frozen, heartbeat.

The last thing Petra comprehended about the scene, before the thick Everfree turned the spreading white to endless growing green, was the petrified ice-sculpture that had once been a living Displacer Beast, frozen in mid bite of it's terminal meal.

Dangling in halves, held perpetually in deceased jaws by icy, solidified strands of saliva, was the last stand and final testament of devotion by the greatest of all dancing bunnies, Crème Bûnnée.

8. The Court Of Sun And Moon

The Conversion Bureau

HUMAN

in Equestria
By Chatoyance

The Court Of Sun And Moon

Special thanks to my spouse Aedina for her assistance with historically accurate Elizabethan speech.

Tagtail the Obsequious waited for Somnolence to complete the delicate telekinetic separation of frozen bodies. Somnolence The Intrepid was the supreme telekineticist of the Royal Unicorn Corps, and only he could perform such a precise and demanding task.

Somnolence sent his mind down, deep, into the dweonicular layers, and performed a simple spell which he crafted on the spot. It was a cantrip that searched for dweonicules that made up the flesh of the frozen human child called 'Seraphina' and defined them as separate from the flesh of the only partially frozen child called 'Asher'. Once a boundary between the two had been established, the thin layer between the surfaces was caused to become warm so as to melt. This made lifting 'Seraphina' away from 'Asher' much simpler. The two children had been frozen together.

Once the two bodies were separated, Tagtail the Obsequious began his supreme medical arts. The human filly was entirely frozen, every cell within her body ruptured by ice crystals. Continuing his scan, Tagtail determined that the body of the human filly, combined with the insulating properties of a red coat, had preserved the head and torso of the human colt. She had apparently sacrificed her life for the young human. Tagtail noted the nobility of the act.

The human colt was still alive, though his arms and legs were entirely frozen, as was the flesh of his ears and most of his face. The interior of the body and the entirety of the brain had not frozen, and could be saved, though whether that would be a mercy to be granted or a curse to be avoided was something the princesses would have to decide.

Tagtail had already treated the other human fillies and colts. One of the fillies had escaped nearly unscathed, with only a broken and lacerated upper foreleg and assorted contusions. That human's name was 'Petra'. The remaining three fillies and colts other than critically injured 'Asher' and the deceased 'Seraphina' had survived, after a fashion, but could not live long.

A filly called 'Isla' had been carried bodily by a large human colt named 'Oliver' until the latter's legs and abdomen had turned to ice. 'Oliver' was being kept alive only by constant thaumatic support, performed by two of Tagtail's best medical mages. Without the constant concentration of the two unicorns, 'Oliver' would perish within moments. The Royal Corps had arrived almost too late as it was.

The human filly 'Isla' would lose her arms, legs and face, but she would survive, thanks to the impressive effort of the colt who had carried her, then held her above the grasping frost. The astonishing love, dedication, and self sacrifice of the young aliens had, for the first time, begun to make Tagtail reconsider his personal belief that Celestia had been mistaken in trying to save the humans. If this was what their young were capable of, then perhaps their kind had been worth the terrible disruption and cost to Equestria in order to rescue them.

A human colt, designated 'Milo' was also alive, though only his head and half of his chest. He too was on thaumatic support.

Of the four pigs, only Tourt Pière had survived. The other three, Penderloin, Cutler and Hamton had perished, turned entirely to ice by the defensive act of the Snow Bunny the team had found in the jaws of the frozen Displacer Beast. From appearances, the Snow Bunny was civilized, dressed in performer's clothing, and likely had sacrificed herself in an attempt to save the others in and around the clearing.

It was fortunate the three pigs had perished - it was they who, after their deaths, alerted the princesses to the tragic scene. Within seconds of that posthumous message, the Royal Unicorn Corps had been dispatched.

There had been three chickens. Two had been turned to ice, but the third, Cluckalina, had thought of leaping and catching a branch with claw and beak. Cleverly, she had worked her way up the tree limb just ahead of the expanding zone of frost, and had survived only with minor injuries, easily treated by simple tissue regenesis.

The human colts and fillies, however, were a daunting problem. Tagtail the Obsequious was the Royal Thaumatic Chirurgeon, the ultimate specialist in medicine for all of Equestria - under the princesses, of course - and he found himself unable to figure out anything to do about the humans. He had no idea how the creatures even worked, much less what magical procedures to use on them.

Some ponies had been sent into the human world to work at the Bureaus, and some of them had learned aspects of human medicine. It was also possible that there were newfoals who had been Chirurgeons on 'earth' who could be contacted to assist. The true issue, however, was time.

Tagtail's medical unicorns would eventually begin to weary of constantly supporting the lives of the injured. Support could not be maintained indefinitely. Tagtail began to consider alternatives. The most promising in his mind was conversion to stone. The human foals could be kept indefinitely as statues, preserved against death, until a means of restoring them entirely could be devised.

If only the reclusive humans in their little fortress would have allowed medical unicorns to study them! Time and again they had refused any such investigation or contact.

Tagtail sighed and approached the rescue team leader, Night Watcher the Ponderous, mentally preparing how to phrase his plan to stabilize the dying human foals through medical lithification.

Petra sat on the bejewled, marble bench, numbly staring at Plantain. Collyrium, the medical unicorn currently regenerating Petra's arm, gave her a smile. "Just a little more, dear. I want to make sure the bone is nice and strong."

Petra glanced at the twisted, malformed scar down her arm where the Beast had raked her with its claw. Collyrium had apologized over and over for not being able to make the scar go away. Apparently she had never seen a human before, and the way human cells worked were a puzzle to her. She was able to get the cells to grow, but what appeared had been lumpen white and foamy yellow flesh quite unlike Petra's normal skin. Petra knew enough to recognize it as forms of scar tissue. She'd read about it in a book before.

No, that wasn't right. She'd seen it on a holo. A doctor show. It didn't matter anyway. Petra planned on having a fresh new body in any case.

"There! It's a bit bumpy inside, the bone I mean, but it's all mended. It shouldn't interfere with movement or cause pain. Try moving your foreleg a bit and see how it feels." Collyrium smiled again, but there was sadness in her eyes. She wanted so desperately to do a perfect job, but humans were confusing somehow.

Petra mechanically lifted and moved her arm. She really didn't care about it. It ached a little, in the bone, but she decided not to mention the fact. "It's great!" Petra's arm twinged. "Just like new!" She tried to put on her best Bettencourt smile, but... for the first time in her life, it wouldn't switch on.

It seemed clear that Collyrium knew Petra wasn't telling the whole truth, but she nodded. The fact was that she was at the limit of her knowledge. Nopony near knew much about humans, and it was an astonishment even to just see one. "I'm... I'm sorry." The medical unicorn turned and began to sadly walk away.

"Please..."

Collyrium turned around.

"Please be happy. You stopped the pain, and that's the only important part. I'll be a pony soon, with a fresh new body. It's okay, really it is!" Petra couldn't stand the idea of the medic feeling bad. Too much sad stuff had happened. It was just overwhelming to Petra that the unicorn might feel bad for trying to help.

Collyrium smiled, as warmly as she could. "I understand." The little human filly had been through so much it just broke her pony heart. "Thank you then! I hope I get to see you after the princess ponifies you!"

"I'd... I'd like that." Petra realized she really would. Right now, every little kindness meant everything it seemed, and if it would make the unicorn medic even a tiny bit happier just to see her as a pony, then that was something to look forward to doing for her.

Plantain seemed far, far away. She wouldn't meet Petra's eyes. She had stopped crying after the first hour since they had been teleported in the big circle of light to what could only be Canterlot castle. Now, the little earthpony just stared off into space. She did stay close to Petra though. That was the one thing that helped. Plantain seemed to want to be close.

Petra reached out and ran her hand gently down Plantain's back. Plantain jerked at the touch, but then relaxed again. Petra continued to pet her pony friend, it was the only thing she could think of to do. Eventually, Plantain leaned against the human girl, and the two sat that way, pressed tightly together on the padded marble bench, for a long, long time.

"We demand that you give our children back!" Stefan Bettencourt was fulfilling his role as the leader of Mankind - all one thousand, three hundred and forty-seven that remained. Minus six.

In the Great Hall, Celestia and Luna held court, assembled from necessity, entirely against protocol, because fifty-seven humans had stormed unbidden into the castle and ended up - after a brief tussle - corralled by the Royal Guards. The battle had been short and almost comical - the humans had gotten in a few good punches to the muzzles of the Guards, and the Guards, for their part, had been very restrained in taking the rowdier Men down. The casualties consisted of a single broken hand - Gérard Hollande had failed to care that the Royal Guards were armored and wore helmets - and a rather large and pretty bowl - now broken - that had been carved from a single emerald.

To prevent being imprisoned for their vandalism, Forrest Arnault had cited a subparagraph of the Covenant that provided for renegotiation of terms during circumstances of disaster, war, or civil insurrection. The clause had been added after the humans had learned about the return of Luna as Nightmare Moon, Discord attacking several times, and other such disturbing events. It had taken more than a little twisting of interpretation to frame the attack of a native predator within a dangerous magical zone as a war. After several hours of standoff, Celestia was finally willing to concede that the children had appeared to craft weapons and did attempt to defend themselves from attack, and that this could be interpreted as 'warfare', within a 'human' context, somehow.

Out of jail and in the courtroom, the humans promptly set Bettencourt to the job they had come for in the first place - getting their children back, plus compensation for their injuries, plus a personal guard under their control. For protection.

"I do not see that you have any standing for making demands, Mister Bettencourt." Celestia was being patient, as she always tried to be, but the fact was that the rude arrival of a small army of the skin apes had disturbed her. "You are aware, of course, of the state of the poor victims?"

The reason for the assault on Canterlot castle had been the message sent to the Human Masada informing the humans there of the discovery of their missing children and of what had befallen them.

"That is why we are here!" Stefan swallowed, and worked harder to keep his emotions in check. "One girl is dead, four children have apparently been turned to stone..." Stefan felt his temper rising in him, but he held it down. The angry rumble behind him indicated the other men and women were having an even harder time controlling themselves. "...and my daughter is in treatment but will be alright."

"Also, there has been the tragic loss of two pigs, two chickens, and a very brave little bunny. Not to mention the death of the Displacer Beast that attacked them."

Stefan stared. "Who cares about pigs and beasts? We have seriously injured humans turned to stone, and..." Stefan caught himself. "We, the human ruling class, as specified in the Covenant, demand the full restoration and return of our offspring, as well as compensation for damages done, and protection in the future against possible dangers. I have here a list of our requirements and..."

Celestia was not interested in hearing more.

"Full restoration of your children is not covered by our contract. Rescue and medical services provided for them are the generous gift of the crown. You have no standing to request compensation or..." Celestia's horn glowed as she telekinetically ripped the list of demands from Bettencourt's hands. She scanned the document briefly. "...armored diamond dog... troops... armed with..."

The glare from Celestia had a settling effect on the room.

"Celestia. Princess Celestia." Stefan decided that a change of tactics was in order. "Our children are dear to us, as they are to any parent, as your subjects are dear to you. We humbly ask you to restore our children to life and limb, and then to send them back to our loving embrace." Stefan didn't, however, get to his position by failing to press. "Surely, it is also reasonable, within such a dangerous world as Equestria clearly is, to have guards - as you have guards - and to have the resources to support such. We implore you, good princess, to consid..."

"You do not need your own standing army. That is not open to discussion, and was, in fact, something you agreed to drop back when your world still stood. Nothing that has happened has in any way reopened that topic. Since you will never have a standing army - in point of law, you are prevented from having or creating a standing army - you certainly do not need additional wealth to support one." Celestia's normally wide and kindly eyes narrowed.

"Additionally, Mister Bettencourt, our Covenant is very, very clear about the issue of defining what humanity is, and is not, and how very important it is to you and yours to remain completely and utterly thus. I do not understand why you persist in demanding full restoration of your children, as doing so would violate your own requirements."

Stefan Bettencourt felt lost. "I don't follow."

"The human girl known as Seraphina Hollande..." Somewhere in the back, Gérard Hollande choked back tears and held his bandaged, but unhealed hand. "...has suffered death by hypothermia. Isla Draghi, Asher Brin, Milo Cameron and Oliver Sachs have all suffered injuries beyond the capability of their bodies to endure. They exist therapeutically transformed into stone, within a state of stasis just moments before death." This somehow seemed to explain everything.

"We know that! I am asking you... I am begging you to repair them. Rebuild their bodies, heal them! Regenerate them and bring Seraphina back to life! You said you were capable of doing that when Rensselaer died! You said restoring humans was simple for you to do!" Stefan looked briefly around at the men of the Masada. He was doing his best. Why was Celestia acting dumb?

"Humans are not magical creatures and shall not, under any circumstances, be enchanted, put under geas or other form of spell, subjected to thaumatic energies beyond what is required to fulfill the specified conditions and requirements of entry into Equestria, and shall not, for any reason, be changed, altered, redefined, remade, transformed, transmogrified, ponified, mutated, ensorcelled, bewitched, enchanted, disenchanted, subjected to voodoo, curse or spell of any kind, under any circumstances, for any reason, except as defined in Appendix B, and in Section Six."

Stefan Bettencourt, and several other men had begun talking over the princess just after the middle of her long recitation. She did not acknowledge them in the least, but just continued as if they had been properly behaved. Then Celestia waited, silent, until the humans finally fell quiet as well.

"They're children, just children!" Ophelia Sachs stepped forward, weary of the way that the men were handling things. "My Oliver is a good child, a loving child. He is gentle and kind - and he's only a little boy. You'd like him, princess, I'm sure you would. He's very like a pony, actually, I guess that's why he wanted so much to be one. Please... please just... just this once, forget the contract, forget the Covenant, and... show my little boy just a little love, just a little compassion... he... he wasn't involved in any of those rules, he's just an innocent little..."

Ophelia stood there, crying, not even trying to hide her tears. She could only think about how much time she had wasted on trying to matter to the Good Families, instead of trying to matter to her son.

"I know dear Oliver very well, Mrs. Sachs." Celestia's hard look had evaporated, now only kindness shone from her eyes. "I spent six earthly months with each and every child of the Good Families, just as I did with you. I did not show them the things I showed you, as adults. I cherished and adored each and every one of your children, and I care very deeply for little Oliver."

Ophelia Sachs wiped her eyes and nose on her sleeve, she was beyond caring what anyone thought. "Then... save him. Save them all, please!"

"I cannot." Never had any one of the humans seen Celestia look so sad.

"That doesn't make sense!" Luigi Draghi, the father of Isla, shook a fist at the princess. "You remade us! You said you could bring Rensselaer back, only he would just die again because he was old. These kids aren't old! You have the power!"

"I have the power, but not the permission. Need I quote every pertinent part of the Covenant to you? You yourself have tied my hooves. To remake them, to bring dear Seraphina back to life, would require not merely magic, but change. I would need to violate the natural order of human existence - carefully spelled out by you - to save them. Only the fact that the Royal Corps of Unicorns acted without consulting me has preserved them thus far. By the terms of the Covenant, the Royal Corps should only have transported their bodies, and even that not by teleportation." Celestia shook her head ever so slightly. "Comet Tail will be hearing a great deal about this matter, I assure you."

"I invoke Section Six of the Covenant!" To the shock of every human, it was Sergey Brendalthorpe Brin. "Remedial transformation into Equestrian form!"

"Sergey?" Stefan could barely believe his ears. No one was more opposed to ponification than Brin. Even his own wife, Liliane, would be hard pressed to match Sergey's loathing of all things Equestrian.

Sergey's face was emotionless. "He's my son."

"He won't be." Stefan had fought so hard to get all of Brin's points into the Covenant. All of the most hard-ass points in the document were at Brin's demand.

"Fuck you, Bettencourt." Brin turned back to the princess. "That was your big out. They come of age, they get to choose for themselves. Alright. They all wanted to be ponies so bad that they ran away and... and this happened. Fine. You win. Violate human nature. Let my boy live as a stallion. Section Six. I give my consent."

The humans had been wrong. Celestia could look even sadder. "Your consent is not an issue. Section Six clearly defines that after the age of maturity, any human may petition for remedial ponification. Asher Brin has not reached the specified age of maturity."

The age was eighteen. Asher was only twelve. Sergey Brin grew red in the face. "YOU'RE JUST GOING TO LET HIM DIE? IS THAT IT? That's it, isn't it, you stinking pony bitch, you monster - this is all revenge for the Covenant, isn't it? You could do something, but you won't, to teach us a lesson! You'll follow every little word of that damn thing, sitting smug in the knowledge that we fucked ourselves, that's it, isn't it? That's what this is all about, that's..."

Brin was on his knees now, driving his fist into the marble floor, punching the unyielding stone in helpless rage and horror.

"That is not true, Mister Brin. I follow the Covenant because it is our contract. It is a promise, and I always keep my promises no matter what. Breaking promises only leads to chaos and discord, and above all things I...."

Luna, princess of the night, suddenly and unexpectedly interrupted her sister. The nocturnal diarch did not look happy. "We would speak now with thee, sister, forthwith and in privacy."

"Thou art impassioned by wrath against the wretches, and thus are blind unto compassion! Blowed be thy overly worshipped compact! In kindness and love dost thou belong, not in petty retributions for the slights of children! Thou dost shame me, dear sister, to be sibling to one who would weigh the letter of the law above its needful and desirable spirit!" The princess of the moon stomped about the antichamber as she spoke, her ethereal tail swirling like an angry mist behind her.

"Watch your tongue, sister! You do me injury with your words, which are both harsh, and untrue!" Celestia calmed herself. "Luna, dearest Luna, what I do is not from any rancor. I uphold only the law which they themselves demanded of me. I came to save them and they held their own species for ransom to benefit themselves alone. They forced the Covenant on me, and..."

"Thou speaketh as if wounded, but if this Covenant binds and chafes thee so, and if thou claimest it a bane to thee, let it not be a censor to us both! Do you but give it unto my care to address this matter in your stead, and we promise that in the end all means will be found justified, and all thorns that prick thee shall be transformed into blossoms that measure beauty into thy garden." Luna stared intently into the eyes of her sister. "Sweetest aspect of the sun, thou claimest thyself bound by promise and writ, but thou art not alone in promises. We also have oaths to keep, which we hath made to the very foals that sit now in tragic stone, or bask in chirurgical attention. Wouldst thou restrain us, thine owne sister, from our heartfelt promises in sacrifice to thy begrudged ones?"

Celestia's eyes flashed with anger. "You forget our beginnings! Discord, in name and deed reigned over us, and only through order was this world forged from senseless chaos..."

"Celestia!" Luna stood muzzle to muzzle with her sister. "Discord endureth as stone for clocks greater than our penance as aspect of the moon. Now thy former nemesis is repentant subject, just as we, thy closest kin. Thou dost cling to horrors ages gone, as a terrified foal to a mothering blanket, knowing only the past but insensate to thine own present. No Discord threatens thee now, and justice must be tempered with compassion, lest justice lose all meaning and become unyielding discord itself.

"We accuse thee no longer of spite, but instead implore thee to let thy ancient sorrows pass as a cloud upon the winds of time. That age is not our age, and in this place and in this era innocent and guileless foals stand to be judged as much as those who would make callous demands of thee. Grant them that most precious of gifts, life itself, and grant unto them their dying pleas to be fully your subjects, for both are one and the same.

"These foolish innocents have dared nightmare horrors solely to claim our offer to be our little ponies. They have forsaken sire and kin, and all their kind, to seek thee out and plead for succor. Wouldst thee deny them in order to maintain thine own appearance of perfection? Of what value is a cold legacy of unbroken pledges against even a single errant kindness?

"Celestia, sister, we knowest that thy salve against Discord was adherence to Law. Order hath always been thy balm. But compassion hast e're been thy creed before thou didst take up the shield of Order and the spear of Law. Let compassion hold sway with thee once more, despite contract or pledge or given word. Love should be thy legacy, not writs and tortes and dusty, mouldering documents."

"Mayhaps... perhaps..." Celestia began pacing, her mind busy with thought. "Both law and kindness can be served." She whirled and faced her sister. "I have learned much from these humans. They are clever and devious both, but they are not to be underestimated. The way they think... they always find the hidden path, the unseen way. They are indomitable, which is why I have rightfully feared and constrained them." The look on Luna's face was far too familiar. "Do not lecture me again on the griffons and diamond dogs. Have I not finally displayed wisdom with the rescue of the humans?"

Luna decided to hold her tongue.

"Sister, shining star of the night, I think there is a way to follow the Covenant to the letter and still grant these children their proper lives as our ponies! Come!" With that, Celestia turned and departed.

Petra trembled before the two princesses. She clung to Plantain, her fingers entwined in the pony's long, yellow mane. The tug of her hand reminded Plantain of her beloved Crème, and a tear came to her eye at the memory.

"Plantain?" Petra waited, unsure what the answer would be.

Plantain Acres wrapped her forelegs around the girl. "Of course I'll be there when you wake up! We're friends, aren't we?"

Petra hugged the pony back. "Yes! Oh, yes! The very best of friends. Thank you Plantain. Please... let's be friends forever!"

Petra disentangled herself from Plantain and moved to the center of the room. She stood, arms at her side, a smile on her face. "I am ready, your majesties. And..." She smiled in gratitude, a true Petra smile, directed first at Luna and then Celestia in turn. "...thank you, my princesses."

"You are welcome, my little..." Celestia's horn glowed with golden dweomer "...future pony."

Petra smiled even more brightly.

"He... Oliver... doesn't look so bad off. He doesn't look hurt." Ophelia alternated between tears and calmness.

The petrified statue stood on a massive pedestal, crafted by Luna to support the boy. Oliver stood upright, arms raised high, holding the body of Isla above him. Somehow, in the last instant, the overweight yet delicate child had managed to summon the strength to lift the little girl over his head. Their pose almost resembled part of a ballet routine, except for the looks of wide-eyed fear and determination on their faces. Isla gazed with blind stone eyes down upon her would-be savior, both horrified and grateful at Oliver's self sacrifice.

Ophelia Sachs began to raise a hand to touch her child, and then pulled her arm back. She couldn't face what she knew would be cold granite, hard and dead and insensate.

There beside Oliver and Isla were the other statues, here in their own private chamber of the castle.

Seraphina was there, flat, on her belly, and Asher beside her, on his back, both cast in stone. Milo still appeared to be trying to drag his useless legs behind him, crawling in desperation from ice that had long since melted.

In the center of the room, on a pedestal just like the others, stood Petra Alice Bettencourt, still smiling the biggest genuine smile of her life at the princesses, her princesses. Her stone face was hard and cold and still very human, but even made of granite it glowed with the knowledge that when enough time had passed, and she was eighteen by the contractually specified calendrical years, she, and all of the others, would be lawfully allowed revivification and remedial ponification.

"She beat us. That pony bitch beat us." Andrew Cameron studied the face of the statue that was his crawling son.

"No, you fool." Ophelia had lost any wish to be part of the elite. She had already approached the princesses. She would have a proper, pony home ready for her Oliver, when the time came - and a proper, pony mother to greet him. "You beat yourselves. You tried to take advantage of an honest gift of love, and until you learn why that was wrong, you will keep shaking your heads and cursing your saviors."

Cameron started to reply, but shouting at the deluded woman would serve nothing. She was just another peasant now, as far as he was concerned. Another member of the common rabble. She'd be a pony by tomorrow. A pitiful barnyard mare. "You never deserved to be part of the Good Families, Sachs."

Ophelia finally managed to place her hand on the arm of her Oliver. It was hard and cold as she had imagined, but it wasn't so bad. It was just suspended animation. The pony version of stasis. Oliver would live again, as a pony, and if what princess Celestia had confided to her was true, as a filly and not a colt. It didn't matter. For the first time in her life, Ophelia Sachs finally understood what truly mattered to her, and it wasn't power or influence. Her child mattered, her life mattered, and love mattered.

"Thank you, Andrew. That is the single nicest thing you have ever said to me." And with that, Hyssop Garden - Ophelia had already picked out a pony name for herself - turned and left the lithified children so that she could prepare for the morning. Tomorrow, she was going to be remedially ponified, as specified in Section Six, as was her right under the strict wording of the Covenant.

9. The Six New Mornings - Seraphina

The Conversion Bureau

HUMAN

in Equestria
By Chatoyance

The Six New Mornings - Seraphina

Lime Sherbet is used with the permission by the superb author Gabriel LaVedier, from the excellent Dames Of The Tea Table, which you should read because it is wonderful.

Every morning, Lime Sherbet, the head of the Royal Maids and the Mare In Waiting To Princess Luna, made her rounds. She always took a personal interest in making sure that everything was sparkling and perfect for Celestia before she went to bed. Hers, of course, was the night shift, but just because her mistress was the princess of the stars did not mean that she cared any less for the princess of the day.

Today was a special morning, for one of Lime's personal concerns, and she wanted everything to be especially nice.

Her staff seldom failed Lime, of course, and those times could be counted on three hooves, and in each case there had been a very good reason. One had been due to a very pregnant mare finding herself in labor in the middle of dusting the Royal Library. The second had been due to the first escape of Discord - and Lime could not blame the newly hired colt for hiding within a closet in terror. The third, well, the third was due to youth, and heat, and while perhaps inappropriate, had ended in a very happy, and enduring couple.

Life in the Castle was always interesting, and so was her large and diverse staff.

Lime took some tasks purely for herself. Special tasks - tasks where she felt extra love or attention or devotion was needed - she hoarded to her own care. Before she went to bed, she always made princess Celestia tea, so it would be waiting for her when she arose. The princess liked a cup of tea before she raised the sun, and Lime felt that the tea that inspired each day should be... perfect.

A relatively new task was the Waiting Room. The Waiting Room had been established, as all new rooms were, by an act of the princesses. One day, there was a new door, and behind that new door was a new room. The room was sizable, and round, with windows and pillars and a gorgeous domed ceiling. Custard Creme had found the new room and reported it immediately. It was a game the entire castle staff played with each other. They liked to try to find new rooms before the princesses announced them.

The greatest prize would be seeing a new room actually come into being. There was endless speculation about how it might happen. Some, like Custard, felt sure that a princess would be there, creating the new space. Others, like Vanilla Gelato, were convinced that the new rooms just 'grew' like buds on a rose bush. Rose Bush, the Second Gardener in Waiting under Celestia, felt that new rooms appeared in a flash of lightning and dweomer. She was fairly adamant about her view. The truth was, not one pony had ever seen the event happen, yet.

Lime personally suspected that the princesses were playing right back, and were careful to keep any pony from seeing a new room added. She had once asked her mistress, Luna, about this, and her only answer was a faint smile and a request for tea and cakes.

Inside the Waiting Room were six statues. The creatures were 'humans', from the Human Masada on the other side of Canterlot Mountain. They were all human fillies and colts, and they were in various poses. One of the flat-muzzled beings had a terrified look on it's features. It had been lithified in the middle of dragging its hindquarters as if trying to escape something terrible.

Two other statues were prone - a colt and a filly human who lay on back and belly, respectively. The colt appeared to be in pain and had been injured on his poll, and the filly seemed to be trying to cover something with her body.

One of the statues was double. A large human foal - Lime couldn't tell if it was a colt or a filly - held a smaller filly up over it's head. The two could have been turned to stone while dancing, except for the looks on their faces. The larger creature appeared to be struggling, with a look of calm resignation and determination. The smaller human filly looked down on the other in mixed gratitude and grief.

Only one of the statues appeared happy. It was a human filly, standing on her hind legs, with her forelegs out to the sides. She was Lime's personal favorite to dust, because she just looked so very joyful.

Lime would talk to the statues, when she dusted them. They couldn't hear her, of course. Turned to stone, they were were without thought or feeling. But that didn't matter. What mattered was showing love, whenever and however she could, and the poor little humans just seemed so alone in the Waiting Room. At each Hearth's Warming, Lime always made sure to put a few decorations in the room. It was silly, really, but she always wanted every guest in the castle to feel loved and cared for.

It was a maid's job, after all, to express the benevolence and greatness of the princesses through every detail and every deed.

Lime had been told that the poor creatures had run away to seek the help of the princesses. They wanted to be proper ponies, something which Lime could heartily understand. The poor things looked rather ungainly, and for the life of her, Lime couldn't figure out how they managed to trot with all of those bent spines coming off of their forehooves. The things didn't look like claws, and they didn't look like parts of any sort of paw. It seemed to her that the thin spines were probably floppy and would catch on things or be crushed under the human's frogs.

They probably limped everywhere guarding their malformed forehooves, Lime decided. It was likely painful. They would be so much happier as ponies.

When the statues were all dusted and sparkling, Lime went back outside the room and wheeled in the cart with the flowers. Rose Bush had prepared some lovely wreaths and arrangements of globe amaranths. Lime carefully arranged the flowers around the statue of the little human filly, laying on her belly. Luna had told her that the poor thing had died trying to save the colt who lay on his back. They had been found together, the filly covering the colt, protecting him.

Lime imagined them to be in love, and when she was dusting, she would remind one or the other that they would see each other again.

When everything was just right, Lime looked one last time at the lithic human filly. It was a pity, she would miss the poor creature's resurrection. But bed called, and she was on the night shift, and there would be things to do for her princess, and tasks to attend to. Before she left, Lime kissed the strange little thing on the poll. "Have a wonderful life, little filly. I hope someday I get to meet you for real. All my love!"

Then Lime rolled the little cart out of the Waiting Room. When it was safely back in Bush's garden, Lime gratefully trotted off to a well deserved rest.

Seraphina Hollande tried to read from her book, but it was dreadfully dull, and entirely in French, and she hated reading old books in French because they were always about dreadfully dull things said in ridiculously overblown ways. Father was always such a pain about it - 'This is a book! A real book! Not some cheap holonovel, this was made from trees and the flesh of animals and printed with ink to last the ages! Treasure it, ma petite fleur de chou, for no peasant could hope to touch such a wonder, much less appreciate it!'

She took hold of the book more solidly, and tried to concentrate, but the words kept changing. That was very strange.

"Tacite en France de Montesquieu a Chateaubriand... I know a certain unicorn mage who would adore that. After a thousand years, though, I think I am with you. Dreadfully dull. Would you like some tea?"

Seraphina jerked her head up. Across the embroidered linen of the table, over the pages of her book, princess Celestia sat. Her horn was glowing, and she was pouring tea into a cup.

"H-How did you... oh... princess!" Seraphina's eyes filled with tears. "You're back! You're really back... oh I've missed you so much, so very much, I..."

"Shhh.... shhh... there now, have some tea won't you? There is something we need to talk about." The princess smiled, but there was a serious look in her eyes.

Seraphina tried to calm herself, and carefully set her father's precious book aside. Somehow, the princess had returned, and this time she was no shade or ghost, but appeared physically there. Seraphina took the cup and carefully sipped it. It was neither too hot nor too cold. It was delicious.

"It is still your wish to become a pony and live the rest of your life as one of my subjects?" Celestia took a sip from her own levitated cup.

Seraphina almost bounced in her chair. "Princess, please, please let me be a... oh... oh my..." She felt lightheaded, then filled with dread and sorrow and... "I remember... running away... this can't be real!" Seraphina looked around the room. They had all moved to Equestria. Paris no longer existed. Earth no longer existed. This room was impossible. "I'm... we're not really here... are we?"

"'Real' is such a limiting word." Celestia took another sip. "But, no, in the terms you mean, this is... a dream, I suppose. Yes, that will do. A dream. But it is not an ordinary dream. It is a very real dream, because it is inside my mind, and that makes it different from the dreams that you might have."

Seraphina tried to make sense of this. "Wait... I'm... in your dream? I don't understand. I'm the one dreaming, aren't I?"

Celestia looked at the young girl, across the table, with endless compassion, but also sadness. "No. I'm sorry. You can't actually dream anymore, so I am dreaming you for you. I am here to fulfill my promises to you, and to your parents. I am also here out of love."

"I'm dead, aren't I?" Seraphina was surprised that she was not upset or frightened by the thought. She felt curiously calm. "I froze, didn't I?"

Celestia studied her tea for a moment, before looking up again. "Yes. But your body was preserved by my Royal Mages, and has been kept for the past two years within a room inside Canterlot castle. I am..." Celestia took another sip. "Emulating your mind. Like the old games you liked to play on that machine in your room."

Seraphina tried to wrap her brain around the implications. "I feel like me. I mean, I'm here! I... I feel like I'm alive!"

"You would." Celestia smiled. "In my thoughts, you are alive again. For now."

"Can... can I be alive for real? As a pony?" Seraphina put her cup down and pressed her palms together, in front of her. "Please? Please Celestia? I'll be the very best, kindest pony I can possibly be. I promise!"

"That... is what I needed. I needed you to ask me to transform you." Celestia lowered her cup to the table.

Seraphina pushed back her chair and stood up. "Please! Please make me alive again and make me into a pony! That's the whole reason we left and went into that awful forest! Please transform me! Please make me a proper pony!"

"You're sure now?" Celestia liked to tease sometimes. Seraphina grinned as Paris started to fade away. "No take-backs, you know."

"No take-backs! Make me a pony! Your little pony! Forever and ever!" Seraphina laughed. Celestia could be so silly sometimes, even though she was a princess. That was one of the things Seraphina loved about her. "Pony! I want to be a..."

The statue that had been the medically lithified corpse of Seraphina Hollande began to grow transparent. Sparks of recondite energies flitted about within the fading ghost of the statue like fireflies in a vanishing fog. When the statue had entirely dissipated from the base upon which it rested, Celestia, princess of the sun, turned to an empty part of the room and focused her will.

Dweon by Dweon, Celestia wove a new body from the stuff of magic itself. Within her mind, the pattern of Seraphina Hollande was cradled, a precious, frozen snapshot of long dead meat. For the rest of the day, Celestia stood thus, streams of thaumatic force ribboning out from her like thousands of tendrils, making, creating, structuring and supporting.

As the time for night arrived, Celestia's sister, Luna, stepped into the room and watched her older sister work. Within the thousand streams of light that emanated from the diarch of the sun, the shape of a pony could be seen now, almost solid, nearly complete. The little filly would be a pegasus, fitting, Luna thought, within the culture of the humans. Seraphina Hollande had died, and she would be reborn as a winged angel.

"She ceased to function." A small blue cat at the hooves of the princess of the night spoke.

"Yea. She hath expired." Luna bent her long neck down and nuzzled the creature.

"But she had no thaumatic complement when she terminated. Her information will have been lost forever." The cat stood utterly still, watching the solar princess weave flesh onto the pony body in her magical grasp.

"The filly hath been preserved from harm, Chang'e, for she was ensorcelled to stone e're her body could decay." The night princess had double duty, and wanted to move on. It was up to her to set the sun and raise the moon by herself, and then, much later, to set the moon and raise the sun for her sister. Weaving flesh from nothing took total concentration, and time. Creating the very first ponies after the fall of Discord had been a laborious task for both sisters, long, long ago. "An thou wilt, thee mayest abide here and keep thee watch, other duties are stayed for me."

Chang'e licked her dark blue paw and used it to smooth her ear. Then she tired of watching the ribbons of magic playing maypole around the forming body and padded after her mistress to the solar plinth.

The first thing Seraphina noticed was her own breathing. She wasn't sure which had been her first breath, but she couldn't have taken many. It was a strange, and awe inducing thought, to realize that the number of breaths one had ever taken were still within memory, and counting.

She felt, rather than saw, her hooves. She stretched, as if waking from sleep, and found her forelegs in the process, the sensation of her middle fingers being large and heavy to her. As she opened her eyes for the very first time, she saw the golden-shod hooves of Celestia, and the tip of her regal muzzle. Celestia was laying on the polished marble floor near her, nearly muzzle to muzzle.

"Good morning, my little pony." The smile was sunshine and warmth and love itself.

"Good... morning?" Seraphina's voice was slightly different. It was perhaps a little higher, purer of tone. That consideration was lost as her new nostrils filled with a universe of scents that had been hidden to her simpler, human nose. It took her a moment to regain her composure. "You... smell nice." Seraphina felt immediately embarrassed after her words.

The laugh was gentle and utterly charming. "Thank you, my newest subject. Hmmm... do you have a new name in mind to go with your new life?"

The pale lavender pegasus filly became entranced with her own wings, stretching them out and pulling them back to her. "Oh... sorry! It's just all so new!" Celestia smiled indulgently as the newly alive filly thought for a few minutes. "Could you name me, princess? I am so overwhelmed... I can't think of anything!"

"Is that what you want? I didn't mean to rush you, my dear. Back during the Bureau days, so many newfoals already had names picked out for themselves that I quite became used to it."

The filly forced herself back to the moment. She had been utterly lost in the joy of slapping her tail back and forth on the marble behind her. "Um... I would... I think I would prefer a name from you, if you would be so kind, princess. I'm sure you could do better than I, and... it would be special to me."

Celestia laughed again, softly. "Very well then. I name thee Morning Star!"

Morning Star laughed in delight, flexing her wings. "Will I be able to fly, princess?"

"Very well, I would imagine. I built your wings for both speed and control." The diarch of the sun considered this for a moment. "It would be my advice to take things slowly at first, when you begin flight school. I got just a teensy bit carried away so don't try any high speed stunts until you get precision flying down."

Morning Star's eyes grew wide. "I'm getting advice from my creator on how the body she created for me works!" Morning's tone was nothing less than reverent. "Thank you. Goodness. Thank you for my wings. For... my very life, I guess."

The little pegasus filly looked around the room. "They're all... they're all statues! Princess? I don't understand."

"There was little that could be done to save you. The Royal Unicorn Corps was dispatched to your rescue, but all they could do was to preserve you all in stone."

"I'm even more confused, princess. We were trying to get to you, to be ponified! And... I'm a pony now... but what about Asher and Milo and..." Morning Star looked from statue to statue around her. Finally, her eyes locked onto Celestia.

"I am bound by my promises, little one. I must never break the law because I am the law. The Covenant your parents crafted was very thorough, and very specific. I am not allowed to offer any child ponification. I must wait until you reach your human age of consent, which has been set at eighteen. Although you have not aged a day, by the calendar you are eighteen now. The Covenant is concerned only with the calendrical date. Today, it was legal for you to ask for remedial ponification."

"It's been two years?" Morning star studied the statues around her once more. She herself had been a statue, and she had been in this room, made of stone, all of that time.

"Yes. But you are flesh now, and you are a fine pegasus. Your journey, and your long wait, is over." Celestia gracefully stood up. "Shall we go? Please try to stand. I will support you, so do not fear falling." Celestia's horn glowed with golden light. Morning Star felt a soft presence around her middle. Golden light enfolded her barrel and belly, doubtless ready to catch her if she proved unsure on her new legs.

Morning carefully stood, trying to imitate Celestia's rising. First, she placed a forehoof solidly on the floor, and used that leg to push herself up so she could set her other foreleg. Then she positioned her back legs and hooves, and lifted her hindquarters until she stood on all four legs. "What about the others, princess?"

Celestia smiled in approval at Morning Star's easy standing. "When the calendar permits, they too will have their turn. I will ask them each if they desire ponification, and if they wish it, I shall transform them into ponies. Then they may begin new lives, just as you are doing."

"What... what if one of them changes their mind?" Morning Star was still unsure about Asher. He had not gotten to explain his motivations before they had been attacked. Morning was doubtful about the boy.

Celestia suddenly looked grim. "It is my dearest hope that all are resolute in their wish for new life. Try walking now, Morning Star. Do not fret, I still support you."

The little violet filly began testing her new body, taking careful steps at first, and then bolder ones. "I think I have it, princess. You can let go if you want!" Morning was walking easily now. It really wasn't that hard to do, much to her surprise. She stopped in front of the statue of Petra.

"She... she looks so happy." Morning studied the other lithified children, and then Petra again. "It wasn't a bit happy back then. Why... why is she smiling like that?"

Celestia joined Morning by the statue that was Petra Bettencourt. "Petra was nearly unhurt. She escaped the frost. She asked for asylum and our protection, which we gave. To prevent any argument from the humans, she volunteered to be lithically preserved until she too had legal standing to ask for what you have received today."

Morning Star thought about this, as she studied Petra's face. "Princess... could I... could I come back when it is time for the others to become ponies? I don't know that we are... friends... exactly, but we went through a lot together and... I feel like I want to be there for them, when they wake up. It just seems wrong to... not be there."

The princess considered the request. "If it is all right with your new parents, I will allow it."

"My new parents?" Morning Star was but minutes newly alive, after having been dead and preserved in stone. Now she walked on hooves within a magically created pegasus body, but it seemed that the surprises were not yet over.

"Yes, Morning Star. You have survived a great adventure, but you are still just a little filly. Equestrians live much longer than do humans, and they have longer childhoods. You will be a filly for several decades yet. There are many who would desire nothing more in life but to offer you their love, their home, and their experience. You may choose whoever you wish."

Morning Star looked at her new hooves. "What... what about my... real parents?"

She felt herself nuzzled by the princess. It felt wonderful, and comforting. "I am very sorry, Morning Star, but... they refused my invitation to your new birthday."

"Oh." After that, Morning Star was silent for quite some time.

Lime Sherbet finished dusting the poor little human who was dragging his hindquarters. The green unicorn mare put down her feather duster and used her magic to straighten her maid's mop cap so it sat properly on her poll. After so many years, she did not need a mirror, she could tell simply by how it felt.

During an entire day and night, the solar princess had created a new body for the poor human filly. She had become a lovely pegasus, and for now, until she chose parents to live with, she had a room in the castle. Lime had visited her personally, to help her settle in. She seemed very nice and very proper, as though she were born to the upper tiers of Canterlot society.

The stone base that the new pegasus had once laid upon remained, empty now. Five stone humans remained to face the quiet years of waiting, until they too, could walk free on newly minted hooves.

The little maid turned and trotted to the door of the Waiting Room. "G'night, dearies." She spoke the words over her flanks as she moved towards morning, bed, and sleep

10. The Six New Mornings - Petra

The Conversion Bureau

HUMAN

in Equestria
By Chatoyance

The Six New Mornings - Petra

Lime Sherbet is used with the permission by the superb author Gabriel LaVedier, from the excellent Dames Of The Tea Table, which you should read because it is wonderful.

The green unicorn mare carefully placed the arrangements of gardenias and lilacs. Rose Bush had explained that these flowers represented joy, innocence and youth. They seemed perfect to Lime for the revivification of her favorite of the statues.

The human filly stood on her hindlegs, her forelegs spread slightly, as if waiting for a hug. The wonderful smile on her stone muzzle - goodness, but these humans had such flat faces, it must make eating out of a bowl almost impossible for them - always cheered Lime as she dusted the statues.

"Today is your day, sweetie. I guess you'll be a pony by lunchtime. The princess shouldn't have to make you a new body, I expect." Lime Sherbet gave the little human another quick pass with the feather duster. She didn't want the poor thing sneezing with her first breath.

The truth was that Lime would miss the smiling human, but that only strengthened her resolve to make the remaining lithified humans as comfortable as statues could be. They were, after all, guests in the castle, and guests of the princesses always deserved to feel loved and safe. It had been three years now, since Morning Star had been brought to life, and Lime had quite gotten used to her little statue garden with each passing Hearth's Warming.

Lime always chatted with the statues, as she cleaned the Waiting Room. She spoke of her husband, a member of the Royal Guard, and of how much she adored Luna, her mistress, and how much fun she had in her company. Occasionally she slipped and related some bit of juicy and sometimes ribald gossip about the life within the castle, but then would catch herself. They were, after all, but little fillies and colts, despite the passage of the years.

"I'm off to bed, smiling one. I just know that big smile of yours will be rewarded well. I suppose I will finally meet you at dinner, which is my morning. Happy birthday, little filly!" Lime lifted her feather duster in her glowing grasp and trotted wearily to the door. It had been a long night filled with not a little rambunctious revelry, and she was very sleepy.

The top of the grey stone began to glow. A circle of light expanded, widening as it followed every bump and curve of the statue's granite hair. Where the limn of dweomer passed by, real hair was revealed, blond and curly. As the radiant division swept down the figure, more and more stone was returned to living flesh.

For a short while, Petra became aware of herself and opened her eyes to find that she was just a head, and then a head and shoulders, protruding from a base of stone. She could not breathe, for her chest and body had not been made flesh yet, but it did not bother her. Some strange magic supported a breathless life within her, and she felt perfectly at peace as she waited for the entirety of her body to be restored from lithic preservation.

Blinking, Petra saw Celestia before her, smiling at her. Standing on the stone pedestal her eyes were nearly even with the tall princess. "Hello... your majesty." Petra thought to curtsy, but decided she was too unsteady to try such a grand expression.

"Good morning, Petra." The princess of the sun became serious. "I must ask you, upon this, the calendrical eighteenth year of your existence, whether it is your wish to become one of my little ponies, and a full subject of the crown."

Petra's heart leaped within her breast. Finally, finally the wish she had desired since her first vision of the princess, and her first episode of Going Pony, and her first look - at a distance - at a real, live Equestrian was about to come true.

"Please, princess, more than anything in all of my life, I wish to become a pony and live as one of your subjects. Surely you already know this! It was the last thing I desired when you turned me to stone, and it is the first thing in my heart now that I again breathe!" Petra felt her hands sweating from excitement, and her heart seemed as if it would burst from her chest and begin dancing about the room.

Princess Celestia backed away. "It is required that you ask transformation of me, whatever I already know to be true. Step down, Petra, I think it will be easier for you on the floor than on that pedestal."

Petra carefully climbed down from the base where she had stood for the past five years. "Should I stand, or sit, princess?"

"I advise you to lay down entirely, not every newfoal is instantly at ease with their new legs." The princess smiled in recollection. "Though there have been a few..."

"Princess?" Petra lay on her belly on the polished marble, quivering at the thought of her dream finally being realized.

"Yes, my litt... Petra?"

"Will... will I have a Conversion Dream? Like the newfoals did back in the days of the bureaus?" Petra remembered much talk about the subject and had spend many hours daydreaming of going to a Conversion Bureau, waiting for her turn, drinking purple nanofluid, and having that most magical of communions.

Celestia gently shook her head. "I am sorry, Petra, but events will not play out as you imagine, I think. The days of the Bureaus are long gone, and with them the little rituals and experiences that the newfoals of that time held dear."

The look on Petra's face was carefully hidden disappointment, but Celestia had known a thousand years of courtly suppression of emotion.

"Take heart, Petra, for rather than chatting with me inside of a dream, you stand now beside me, and I am attending to your conversion myself. Am I somehow better at a distance?" The wry and chiding tone matched the expression on the solar diarch's muzzle.

Petra felt embarrassed. "Oh! No, your majesty... oh, I didn't mean anything of the sort, it's merely that I have been dreaming and hoping so much that I had this picture in my mind that..."

Celestia stepped forward and bent her neck down to nuzzle the prostrate child. "It's quite alright, shhhh.... I am used to teasing japes from endless years of courtly life." Petra had fallen silent with the first touch, and had grown content again. "Are you ready to become a pony now?"

"Oh yes, please, princess."

"Do you have a preference as to which sort of pony you would like to be?" Celestia stood back again, and her horn began to glow with golden light.

Petra startled. "I... I get to choose? I thought newfoals never got to choose!"

"Only because of circumstances and necessity, Petra. This situation is different - and besides, I suppose I have to make up for denying you a conversion dream, do I not?"

This time, Petra laughed. "Oh, my... whatever pony do I want to be? An earthpony, like Rose Vale? A pegasus like Sunshine Laughter? A unicorn like Snowflower? I never could decide! Oh, dear... I'm sorry, princess! Oh goodness... an earthpony is strong and can make things grow, but unicorns can do magic and pegasai can fly and... I can't think, it's all so wonderful and each is important and ever so amazing to be and...

Celestia laughed. "Would it be easier to let me choose for you?"

Petra sagged with relief. "Would you, please? I honestly can't decide. I would be happy to be any sort of pony at all. Each is so very special in their own way."

"I agree with you entirely on that point, Petra. I love all of my little ponies." Celestia's horn blazed with light. "I shall begin. Just relax and let the transformation happen. You may even find it almost as enjoyable as dreaming about it!"

Petra began to giggle at that when she suddenly stopped, transfixed by wonder and sensation.

Her body was covered in golden light. The radiance sparkled and shimmered, an auric aurora that played across every curve and contour of her body. Petra held her hand up to her face, and marveled as her fingers streamed golden arcanum like five magical torches.

A curious and beautiful sound, like distant chimes, filled her senses. As Petra lay on the floor, she felt her body become light, and begin to change. Her forearms began to shrink as her hands grew long and turned into pony cannons. Her neck thickened and extended. Petra's view altered as her head grew further from her shoulders.

Filled with astonishment, Petra watched her fingers melt into each other until only her middle fingers remained. These became large, and the nails thickened and expanded to become forehooves of palest tan. This was better than a conversion dream, Petra thought, she was getting to experience her own transformation as it happened. Not a few newfoals had wanted to witness such a thing, and she was reveling in it even now.

Petra curved her extending neck and body to better observe her shifting hindquarters. Somewhere in the process, her clothing had drifted away from her like some vaporous mist, doubtless streamed into the aether by Celestia's golden light. Her body was covered with a shining coat of pale tan, almost golden, the color of Croissants and breakfast tea. In a brief moment of giddiness, Petra thought she looked delicious!

As she watched, her thighs flattened and shortened greatly, pulling close to her narrowing body. Her knees drew near, as her bare feet stretched and elongated to become cannons just as the backs of her hands had done. Her heels became hocks, and her toes merged to become hooves. All the components were the same, between human and Equestrian, they were merely reproportioned for the most part.

Petra felt something shoot out of the back of her neck and the top of her head - her withers and poll. From the base of her... tail, 'oh my goodness', she thought to herself, 'I have a little tail! It looks ever so naked, like a little rattie, but look!' And so it was that what shot forth from her rear, and her withers and poll, was the hair of her mane and hair to cover her bare tail.

The strands were soft and shone like spun gold. 'Oh.' Petra was mildly disappointed by this. She had been blond her entire life and had been curious what it would be like to be some other color, perhaps a bright and lovely rainbow shade. It seemed anticlimactic to start as a blond human and end as a blond pony.

"Is there a problem, my little pony?" Celestia was concentrating fiercely, but she had apparently noticed the change of expression on Petra's newly forming muzzle.

"Oh no!" Petra started to say how wonderful everything was, but then stopped. "Actually, I almost wish - not to be greedy or selfish but I suppose I am being so - that I could have been more colorful. I was blond and pale as a human, and it just seems so similar to be blond and pale as a pony too." Suddenly, Petra felt very ashamed for having blurted her feelings out. It seemed the worst sort of ingratitude to complain about such a silly thing in the middle of being personally transmogrified by the princess of all Equestria. Petra hung her head in shame.

"I thought your golden hair was pretty. I imagined you would wish to keep it. Changing color is nothing at all. There are parlors in Canterlot with clever unicorns that specialize in changing the color of mane and tail and coat as well. But, while we are here, did you have a specific look you desired, madam customer?"

Petra giggled through her new mouth and then spent a few seconds playing with her longer tongue and transformed jaw. "Um... my favorite color is red. If..." Instantly her golden mane and tail became bright, shimmering crimson, red as strawberries in the sun. "Oh, my!"

"I have made your irises red too. They look like rubies. I hope this is to your liking, madam?" The wry smile on Celestia's face made Petra laugh.

"Oh, I think this shall do nicely. Such lovely work you do. I shall be certain to recommend your excellent establishment to all of my most fashionable friends!" Petra put on her best high-and-mighty voice, pretending to be one of the sniffier clients at a beauty parlor.

This made the princess laugh, despite still being lost in concentration.

"Oh! Oh my goodness!" Petra began squirming on the floor.

"Please, try to remain still. I suppose it feels a bit strange. I am finishing up with your internal organs." Celestia's horn pulsed and sparkled, as if it were some kind of optical device reading vast quantities of data.

Petra did her best to remain in place and lay still. She was not in any pain, but the sensations within her barrel and hindquarters were very strange and slightly disturbing. It felt as if slick, buttered bits of cooked squash were undergoing seasonal migration within the sack of her body. "I'm sorry, princess." Squishy things moved in her chest, and down through her belly. "Oh... my goodness. Oh!"

"Hmmm... I will need to adjust for that with the other children. You seem unusually aware of your internal organs. I apologize for any discomfort." The look of concentration on Celestia's face intensified. "Almost done. Just finishing your reproductive organs. You might want to have foals someday."

Petra, as she played at twitching her new ears, recalled some of the things her father had been so obsessed with. "Princess, my father was very concerned with reproduction. He seemed to feel that the humans in the Masada could not have foals any more." Petra found it fascinating how she had phrased her question. Was she already starting to think like a pony? The thought made her heart race again in delight.

"Mmm... yes. I cancelled their reproductive option." Celestia seemed to be focusing on something deep inside of Petra's pony body. Petra felt nothing happening, but that might be because the princess had applied some means to prevent her feeling the changes inside her, in order to spare her any more oddness. "One of the pigs they killed described to me the way they had murdered it. Apparently they are using iron to make guns, and storing them in an underground armory. It appears they've been at this almost since the day they took possession of their little fortress. They've been training some of the diamond dogs to use the guns. It is blatantly in violation of the Covenant."

"No! That... that's horrible!" Petra was both shocked and ashamed for her parents and the other humans in the Masada.

"Oh... I'm sorry I said anything. I know you had nothing to do with any of that. Besides, you're my little pony now." The golden glow was gone. Petra stretched and wriggled her new, completed body. She giggled at the feel of her coat sliding smoothly on the marble, and the easy power of her four strong legs.

"I'm... I'm an earthpony, aren't I?" Petra set her right forehoof firmly on the floor and felt something flow out of her into the marble, spreading through it. She could sense her own weight on the floor from within the substance of it, and she could feel the striations of the marble in three dimensions below her and around her. "Goodness." It was an astonishing feeling.

Her body felt strong, incredibly strong. She was briefly worried that she might press her hoof right through the marble, breaking it. Petra lifted her forehoof carefully, then let it rest gently. "I'm... just like Rose Vale from my holoshow. Or... Or like Plantain! I'm just like Plantain! How wonderful! We could be sisters now!"

"If you want. I'm sure my mother would adore you. But she'd want you to social climb in Canterlot." Plantain's voice was unmistakable.

Celestia smiled and nodded towards the door. "You can come in now, Petra is complete, and I am finished."

Plantain and Morning Star needed no further invitation. They cantered through the door and pounced on Petra. "Oh, Petra, I've missed you so much!" Petra found herself being nuzzled and hugged tightly by Plantain. Petra did her best to return the hug, using her neck as ponies did.

"Plantain... dearest Plantain... it's been five long years for you hasn't it? It must have been, if I am eighteen now. For me, it was just moments ago that I was turned to stone. It's all so very strange." Petra held her pony friend tightly. "Although it would seem impossible, I have missed you too, if only for the last few minutes, and I am so very glad you are here now."

The two friends held each other tightly, necks entwined, pressing their bodies into each other.

"How do you feel, Petra?" Morning Star lay down carefully, close, but unsure how Petra might react to her.

Petra looked at the pale violet pegasus with the ivory mane. "You're... you're Seraphina, are you not?"

The pegasus filly nodded. "My name is Morning Star now. The princess named me. I am very glad to see you alive again." Morning pawed the marble with her forehooves.

"Silly! Come here so that I may properly hug you!" Morning Star practically leaped into contact with Petra, and the two embraced, neck over neck, legs entwined, with Plantain mixed into it all, somehow.

Petra was part of a tangle of tan, chestnut, and violet warmth and she couldn't help but sigh. She relaxed into the swirl of touch and scent, and closed her shining, new eyes. "I... I couldn't do this before."

"I know, I know." Morning Star rubbed her poll against the heads of the other two ponies. "Class and rank and position."

"Overfamiliarity will not be tolerated in proper ladies! Distance and decorum!" Petra spoke with exaggerated pomposity.

"That sounds like my charm teacher!" Morning Star giggled at Petra's impersonation. "I didn't know you could do voices."

"I don't know anything about you, either." Petra felt as if she had melted into a pool of pony. "Let's change that, alright?"

"Let's!" Morning Star laughed again, and the three happy fillies nuzzled each other once more.

"I would not wish to interrupt such a joyous reunion, but I have many duties to fulfill." The three fillies looked up at the princess, standing above them. "There is now the matter of showing you to your room in the castle, and explaining your options with regard to new parents." Celestia thought for a moment. "And, there is the matter of names. Do you have a new name in mind for your new life? Morning Star seemed very adamant that I should offer to name you as well. I extend that possibility, but I hasten to add there is no rush."

"Do you have a name picked out? If you don't, you should let Celestia name you. She's wonderful at it, and terribly clever." The violet pegasus seemed very intent. "My old name meant a sort of angel, which was kind of prophetic because I died, but my new name is associated with Phoenixes - did you know Celestia has a pet Phoenix? She does! Anyway, it was my very first morning as a pony, it was morning when she named me, I'm a pegasus, and a lot of pegasai all together is called a 'Constellation', and I was resurrected from being dead, so I'm 'Morning Star'!"

"Wow." The little tan and crimson earthpony nodded. "That is very clever indeed. I would like a new name. I never really liked 'Petra', it always made me sound like some stiff, upperclass filly, all hard and cold. I am not at all like that, I promise!" To prove the point, she hugged Plantain and Morning Star again.

Finally, raising her head, she looked toward the princess. "Very well. If you are of a mind to do so, I should very much like a name. If it would not be a bother, of course, my princess."

The diarch of the sun laughed. "You are always so very proper, I must say. If you were to choose to live in Canterlot, you would be a natural among the court. But that is not what I see when I look at you. From what Plantain and Morning Star have told me, you were a natural leader among the children, and always worked to keep them together, and safe. We are of a similar spirit in that, as you were with them, so I am with all of my little ponies.

"Then be it known that both with regard to your lovely mane - you simply must tell me who does your hair - " The princess winked at that, and caused the little earthpony to giggle in return. " and with regard to the language of flowers, I name thee Crimson Beauty!"

Crimson Beauty's muzzle dropped open, then closed. "T-Thank you, my princess."

"Oh my." Morning Star nodded, impressed.

"What? I don't know this flower stuff!" Plantain was eager to get the joke, if there was one.

"Princess Celestia really knows old earth." Crimson Beauty looked at Morning Star. "You're right, she is clever. But I don't deserve that."

"I don't understand." Plantain looked from Morning to Crimson and back again.

"The meaning of the Crimson Beauty flower is that... the princess is saying that their souls are united. It's a great compliment." Morning Star gave Crimson a little nudge with her nose. "I guess you really did kind of mother us out there. I'm sorry I didn't understand it at the time."

"I'm just glad we're all here." Crimson Beauty looked around the room at the four remaining statues. Milo. Asher. Oliver and Isla. "Let's be here for them, just like you were here for me. Can we do that?"

"I doubt I could prevent it!" Celestia affected mock annoyance.

When the three ponies had finished giggling, and Crimson had been helped to her hooves, and walked about a bit supported by her two friends - and they were her friends, both of them, she realized - Celestia announced it was time to show her to a room, and they could talk and play until dinner. The details of the future could wait. They would have to, with three excited, giggly fillies so overjoyed at simply being together - and simply being.

Lime Sherbet trotted along the hallway, her horn glowing with pale emerald light. Before her, in her telekinetic grasp, was tea and biscuits. The little cakes were arranged very prettily upon a lovely milky-porcelain plate with edges that looked like they were woven into the most marvelous and delicate pattern. The plate, cups and teapot sat on a wide silver tray, with nice fresh daisies surrounding everything.

Carefully holding the tray and it's contents with her hornfield, Lime generated a second field and applied it to the door, knocking upon it with hardened magic. Behind the door, the giggles and voices stopped, and the sound of hooves approaching could be heard.

"Hello!" The red-haired earthpony filly grinned up at Lime.

"Hello, my dears. I thought you three might like a little tea and flowers, and little cakes too. It's my shift, and I noticed you were still up."

"Tea and cakes and flowers?" Plantain and Morning Star seemed very excited at the prospect. "Please come in!"

Lime Sherbet entered the room, and set the tray down on the low table in front of the canopy bed. The three fillies had been up since morning, and now it was just past moonrise. Lime had taken care of her mistress and was making her rounds. She had heard the giggling fillies on the way to the kitchens, so bringing them a treat just seemed the delightful thing to do.

"Won't you join us?" Crimson Beauty eyed the delicious looking tray with the ever-present hunger of youth.

"Oh, no. Thank you for asking. I have many things to do tonight. There's going to be a banquet brunch tomorrow for some dragons from Leviathania, and I have to get all the details just so. I did want to meet you, miss Beauty. Welcome to Canterlot castle, and, I dare say, to life as well!"

"You know my name?" Crimson Beauty looked at her two friends, surprised at the revelation.

"I make it my business to know all the names of every guest of the princesses. I'm Lime Sherbet, the head of the Royal Maids and Mare In Waiting To Princess Luna. If you have any troubles - not that you would have any troubles, this being Canterlot and all - just ask for me, and everything will be peaches and cream in no time at all."

"Mmnn... I like peaches!" Plantain was enjoying one of the little cakes. She was enjoying it very much.

"And cream! Especially sweet cream. Although sour can be nice too, with the right thing." Morning Star sipped a cup of tea and sighed. "This is lovely, Lime! Thank you ever so much!"

"This was completely kind. Thank you for the wonderful treat. I thought dinner had entirely filled me to bursting, but now... I feel hungry again!" Crimson Beauty took a mouthful of daisies and smiled happily as she chewed, savoring the delicate, delicious flavor.

"Ah... youth. I used to eat like that. Enjoy it now, fillies. Not that a little plumpness isn't appreciated, of course." Lime was going to say more, but held her tongue. The giggling of the three enjoying their tea suggested she didn't need to say more.

"I need to return to my duties, now. I wish you only the happiest in life, miss Beauty. And the same for the naughty lot of you!" This provoked more giggles - it was late and they were a giggly bunch - so Lime took her leave.

"Oh, she seems very nice!" Crimson struggled with her teacup and the teapot. She was still learning how to use her new body.

"Allow me?" Morning Star poured the newly transformed earthpony some tea and showed her the best way to grip the little cup, between the fetlocks, right in the little dip between the bones.

"I... I feel kind of overwhelmed now. Almost like crying, only... I don't know why." Crimson sipped her tea and sniffed.

"I felt the same way. It's relief, I think. It's having all the pain stop. It's having a shining clean mind with no evil in it. It's these wonderful bodies, no doubt. But I think mostly it's just relief. We made it. We survived, and we got to be ponies and... we just plain made it."

The tears on Crimson Beauty's cheeks agreed with Morning Star's analysis. "I... yes. Yes." Crimson carefully concentrated on using her fetlocks correctly and took another sip of tea. It was just delicious, and it went well with flowers or cake. Finally, Crimson found her voice once more. "You were telling me about your parents, Morning?"

"Yes, we live in Cirrusglen, just outside and above Canterlot city. You can see it to the north, up high. It's kind of a movable suburb, really. About two hundred cloud homes, and a cloud park. It's only been moved once while I've lived there, to make room for this really huge airship called the Golden Harmony. My parents are named Windshear and Spindrift, and they've been married for... oh, gosh, about eighty years. They've always wanted kids, but their careers were constantly in the way. Royal Guards, you know. They're established now, so they have lots of free time. Best two dads a filly could ever have!"

Morning Star practically shone like her empyrean namesake. She was clearly a very happy filly.

"Oh, I suppose I will have new parents myself, won't I?" Crimson Beauty stared at her tea. Her old life was gone. In most ways that was wonderful. But a part of her heart had hoped that her mother and father might have been there, when she was brought back to life.

"I'm sorry, Crimson." Morning Star had instantly understood the change in demeanor in her friend.

"I meant what I said about my mom." Plantain put a hoof around Crimson. "You will always have a home with us. I asked my mom about it, actually. She's practically been demanding I drag you home. I just... I just figure that a banana plantation would not be your first choice, you know? You could have... anypony. You could live in fancy circumstances."

Crimson Beauty lay her head over Plantain's withers. "I have lived in fancy circumstances, Plantain. I've lived in nothing but fancy circumstances." For a short while, she was silent. "If I were to come live as your sister, would I be required to help out with the bananas, get very, very dirty, run about all over the fields in the sun, and watch out for hoards of bunnies running everywhere?"

Plantain looked down, ashamed of her somewhat humble home. "Yeah. Plus we're so far out we don't have dung service, so we have to run the cart ourselves. And I can't get the bunnies to dance anymore. The spiders have moved out, though. They finally got their own plantation."

"I absolutely adore bananas, dearest sister."

That made Plantain smile, and a tear come to her eye.

11. The Six New Mornings - Asher and Milo, Part One

The Conversion Bureau

HUMAN

in Equestria
By Chatoyance

The Six New Mornings - Asher and Milo, Part One

Special thanks to my spouse Aedina for her assistance with historically accurate Elizabethan speech.

Crimson Beauty panted from the fairly oppressive heat, and from slight exhaustion. It had taken hours of constant galloping to wear down her remarkable earthpony stamina, and she was surprised she had a limit at all.

What had started as a race, had become a chase, and that had turned into tag with rules against flight - Morning Star couldn't help but love her wings - which in turn had become a rather wide-ranging game of hide-and-seek mixed with hoofball, which itself had simply degenerated into running for the Pflaumenkuchen of it.

It was only that Morning Star had called a time out, utterly out of breath, that Crimson and Plantain had realized just how much fun they had been having, and the astonishing fact they had gotten out of breath themselves. The plantation was always warm, always humid, and almost always sunny. It rained at three every Lunasday, courtesy of the Mountain Farside Fourth Weather Squadron, who hauled in clouds from outside the special environment zone of the banana plantation.

"Whoo! You know, I never thought that simply running about could be so entertaining! It wasn't something I was allowed to do you know." Crimson's heart was already slowing back to normal, though she was still slightly out of breath. It had been a long and determined run, filled with too much laughing, and a great deal of telling jokes to each other.

"Oh, I know!" Morning Star preened a wing - one of her coverts had gotten twisted somehow. "Even when I was very young, my parents..." The ghost of a sad look passed across Morning's muzzle. "... my other parents... would not allow any running. Or fun. Or much of anything. I had a whole room of the most expensive toys, but they were for show. I could never play with them." The ghost manifested completely for a few seconds, then vanished. "But now, my dads are fantastic, and I get to come play here with you!"

"I wish there were a way to visit you, in your cloud home. I bet it must be simply amazing to live on a cloud!" Crimson sighed. She didn't regret being an earthpony - not for a second - but the idea of literally walking on the clouds was compelling.

"There is supposed to be a spell that allows that. Dad - Windshear dad - told me about it." Morning Star found another few feathers out of alignment. Keeping her wings in flying shape required constant small attentions.

"I've done it." Plantain showed no pride in her voice, just a matter-of-fact tone. "We played in Cloudsdale for a few shows, and in Nimbus Heights, too. We all got enchanted to cloudwalk, and had to have it redone every three days. I don't remember how much it cost, but it wasn't expensive. I bet if we saved up our allowances..."

"Oh! That's a lovely idea!" Morning Star began making plans in her head. "You two could come and stay overnight! I'm certain my dads would allow it. There's plenty of room - we have a simply huge cloud house - I think you would really enjoy it. Would you come? Would you?"

Crimson and Plantain laughed. Crimson Beauty smiled. "Of course! We always play here, it would be a treat to even just stand on a cloud. Plus, I've wanted to meet these two wonderful fathers you go on about!" Crimson followed the latter with a wink.

"Do I? Do I talk about them too much?" Morning looked faintly worried.

"No - of course not!" Plantain smiled at Crimson.

"Let us say it is exceedingly clear that you love them very much." Crimson Beauty nodded. "They seem to be truly wonderful, and exactly the sort of loving family you need and deserve."

"I... I still sometimes wonder... about my... other parents." Morning Star nibbled at one of her primaries.

"I suppose old Father and Mother do not speak my name anymore. My old name. And certainly not my proper one." Crimson sighed. "At least we have our good and loving mom, is that not right sister?" Crimson was working on losing her overly proper style of speech, but it was difficult. She had been trained to speak with precision and propriety from her very first word by cranky and impatient teachers. Such habits were ever so difficult to break.

Plantain nuzzled her sister. "Mom's a good pony. And since you arrived, she hasn't been on my case about Canterlot. She hasn't been getting on your haunches about climbing the social tiers, has she?"

Crimson shook her head. "No, she's been nothing but wonderful to me. If anything, it's been a little strange - good, but strange - to have such constant and genuine affection. I expect I seem distant to her. I hope she doesn't think I dislike her! I'm just... not used to... being treated so... warmly." Living as an Acres filly had been a massive change for Crimson Beauty, one that was more extreme, in some ways, than her change of species.

Banana Acres was everything Crimson's human mother was not - supportive, interested and affectionate, both emotionally and physically. Crimson could not remember ever being hugged by her human mother. It must have happened, perhaps when she was just a newborn foal. That said in the whole of her memory, such physical contact was just improper for a member of the Good Families.

It made her feel conflicted that she felt more for her adoptive mother than for her old, pre-transformation one. Crimson had no confusion as to why - genuine affection and concern were utterly desirable - but she still felt odd about it all, just the same.

"I've heard some news about the Humans. Whisperwind told me, when they were doing the rain yesterday. I... wasn't sure I should say anything though. Because... you know." Plantain dug at the soil with a hoof.

Morning Star's poll furrowed for a moment. "I... I think I'd like to know. If it's alright with Crimson."

Crimson Beauty stared at the horizon, then followed it to the distant backside of Canterlot Mountain. "I have no problem with anything that might be happening. I am a pony now, and an Acres. What happens to a bunch of... humans... up on a mountain does not concern me in the slightest."

Plantain looked doubtful, but decided to continue. "Apparently, the humans of the Masada have decided to make the lowest ranked members into servants. When they lost the diamond dogs and all other helpers due to the whole 'guns and bacon' thing, they had to do everything themselves. They didn't like that, so last month they had some kind of meeting and made their lower ranked members become servants - butlers and stuff - or else they'd have to leave."

"And leaving the Masada now means being ponified!" Morning Star looked hopeful. "What do you mean, exactly, by 'lower ranks'? How low? Or how high, I should say? Did any of those chosen to... be servants... decide to leave and become ponies?"

Crimson Beauty studied the endless fields. Her old parents were at the very top. Morning's hopes for her old family showing up as ponies to visit her could never apply to the Bettencourts.

"I don't know. I understand that stuff a little better now, because of you and Crimson, but Whisperwind doesn't, and she didn't tell me anything more. I wasn't sure how well either of you would take such news. Whisperwind just likes to gossip about things, because this side of the mountain, there isn't much going on." Plantain looked briefly at her sister. Crimson's ears were low. She didn't realize how easy she was to read. "I didn't get the impression very many left, if it helps."

"Morning Star?" Crimson stared at her hooves. Her ears were very far back. "If... if your human parents ever did... go pony... would you... be happy to see them?"

"I don't know. I would be happy for them. I would be grateful that they were better off. And that they had finally come to their senses. But... I'm not sure I would want to meet them." Morning Star's ears drooped to the sides. "I suppose that isn't very generous or forgiving of me, is it?"

"I would say that they have made their choice, and it is that choice you are respecting." Crimson Beauty held her muzzle tight between words, sounding slightly clipped. "Windshear and Spindrift... and my... mom... make their own choices too, and the choice they make is to always be there with us and for us, no matter what."

This made Plantain frown. Crimson clearly felt sad about her own parents refusal of contact with her. She began to step close to her sister, to brush up beside her in comfort, when suddenly a pegasus coming in to land caught her eye.

It was a mare, the color of the sunset sky, dressed in the gold-and-purple garb of the Royal Messengers. She landed near them, as if she had been sent directly to their location, which, of course, she had.

The three friends all turned to face the winged pony.

"Are you Morning Star, Crimson Beauty, and Plantain Acres?" The Royal Messenger glanced briefly at a card attached to a holder strapped to her foreleg. Plantain briefly glimpsed that the card had illustrations of all three of them, as well as writing. Doubtless their names and other details.

"Yes, that is we. That is us. That's... us. Yup." Crimson Beauty Acres found herself strangely delighted to have managed to speak more plainly. Perhaps she was beginning to lose her overly proper mannerisms after all!

"Tomorrow is the day of revival for 'Asher Malcolm Brin'. A carriage will be sent for you just before sunset. You will join their majesties for dinner." The exquisite messenger bowed, and then began a short trot. Within three steps she was airborne and flying south to some other appointment.

The three fillies looked at one another.

"That was very kind, but I dare say I would never consider forgetting such an important matter!" Crimson stamped her little tan hoof.

Morning and Plantain could not help but giggle at this. Crimson might never outgrow her formal upbringing. Not that this was bad, rather that it was somehow amusing when she forgot herself after trying so hard.

Crimson, Morning, and Plantain could not help but stare.

It had been six years since any of them had seen a living human. Over the past year, they had visited the Waiting Room five times, to see their lithified friends. They knew Asher was next, because he had been twelve at the time they had all been turned to stone. Morning Star, at sixteen, had been the first to be revivified. The next had been Crimson Beauty at thirteen. All three had expected Asher's turn to happen much as had Crimson's. He would awake to pony friends.

Sergey Brendalthorpe Brin sat nervously at the vast, low table. His knees rose above the surface as he sat on the short, padded, marble seat. His back was straight and rigid, his flat, primate face held in a frozen false smile.

"I thought humans weren't allowed outside the Masada unless they were ponified! Wasn't that the rule since the 'guns and bacon' incident?" Plantain spoke softly, almost a whisper.

"That is what we were told. The princess invoked some of the same clauses and provisions that she used when she limited their reproduction." All had been the ruling since their multiple blatant violations of the Covenant. "How can he be here like that?" Morning Star couldn't help but stare at the man. Looking at him made her feel strange. Four years ago, she herself had been just such a gangly, awkward, flat-muzzled creature. She had become so entirely comfortable being a pegasus, that it was hard to reconcile her past with her present. Memories of her previous form began to haunt her, forcing her to turn away.

"Mister Brin must... be here for Asher." Crimson Beauty felt a wave of complex and very conflicting emotions wash over her. Her human parents had never tried to see her, they had never sent a letter, nor had they asked for her to visit them. Yet here, far across and down the table, Asher's father sat. He looked utterly out of place, completely uncomfortable in a world not built in any way for him.

"But he was one of the architects of the Covenant! He despises ponies!" Morning Star shook her head. "Anypony but him. I half believed that my parents would be there for me once I had been ponified. I could even believe Crimson's parents showing up... but not Brin!"

"He was often a guest of my father's. They would work late into the night, and he was loud and frightening sometimes. He seemed a very angry sort of man." Crimson tore her eyes away, she found she was staring again. "The way Asher behaved... I did not feel that he was at all loved."

"Yet, here he is." Morning Star looked at the human's hands, then at her own dainty hooves. She tried to remember walking on her hind legs only, lurching about, grabbing at things with little pink octopuses on the ends of her forelegs. It seemed so distant, and cold, and impersonal compared to holding things with her mouth. Being a pony was always an intimate, close existence, working together, mouth to mouth and hoof to hoof. Brin's hands looked like hairy, fleshy spiders, grafted to the ends of shaved forelegs.

While the three friends sat, uncomfortably trying not to gawk at the human far across the long table, a yellow-green unicorn mare entered the dining hall. She was the color of late summer grass, with a silvery gray mane and tail. She walked with the gait of a model down a runway, every step precise and measured. Plantain whispered to Crimson and Morning "Dinner is getting more interesting by the minute!"

"You!" Sergey Brin had finally broken the whisper-filled quiet.

"What are you doing outside of your cage, monkey?" The olivine mare walked to the human and stood a cautious half-dozen hooves from him.

"How are you liking the barnyard life, Sloane?" It was difficult to tell whether Brin was being cruelly insulting or humorously teasing. It was likely both.

"I thought they didn't allow any monkeys outside of the zoo without civilizing them first." The unicorn swished her silvern tail, but her expression was unreadable. "And the name is Peridot, now. Peridot Cabochon."

"I assume 'Frigid Icicle' was already taken, then?" The grim look on Sergey's face began to crack, his lips parting into an almost feral grin.

"Your primate drives have clearly not left you. Do you still fling your own..." Cabochon's retort ended abruptly as the room was filled with overwhelming presence.

"Your majesties!" Crimson Beauty and her friends spoke as one.

The diarchs of sun and moon entered the hall, each from their own door at the two ends of the long dining table. They took their respective seats, bookending the ponies and human between them. Dinner was the common meal the two sisters always shared, as Celestia prepared for bed, and Luna began her glorious night.

A whirlwind of activity followed, forcing Peridot to take a seat. She chose a spot a goodly distance away from Brin, almost across from Crimson, Morning and Plantain. She nodded and smiled at the fillies as numerous ponies brought in silver trays laden with food, pitchers, jugs, and sauceboats of things to drink and pour, as well as great bowls of fruits and flowers.

When the goblets had been filled, and the trays placed and the bowls arranged, the skillful performance of servers retreated as silently and smoothly as they had entered. Plantain felt like clopping her hooves at the lot of them - the choreography of it all excited her performer's heart.

"We bid thee welcome, all, to this our goodly repast." Luna, diarch of the night, levitated her goblet and took a careful sip.

"Please, enjoy." Celestia indicated the table with a nod of her head. "It is my understanding that the slow-baked aubergines are particularly good. The recipe comes from old, earthly Athens. We have a new assistant chef, which has been hired from among the newfoals, and promises exciting new flavors to enjoy." The princess considered the majority of those present at the table and tilted her head. "Unless, of course, any here once came from that place?"

The three newfoals and the human shook their heads. During the Great Collapse, before the arrival of Equestria, the Southern Eurozone had been hit the first and hardest, and what had once been Greece in the time of nations had become a desperate and intolerable region.

"Then we are all united in expectation of many unusual treats tonight!" Celestia began floating bowls and trays to herself to take portions from.

"Allow me?" Peridot Cabochon used her hornfield to lift and float a silver tray of idli sambhar - steamed rice cakes with coconut chutney and lentils - over to Crimson who was realizing she could not reach it without having to stand on the table. The new chef was certainly both diverse and talented. Dinner seemed to be a banquet of delicacies from both Equestria and old earth, providing a taste of two universes in one meal.

"Thank you most kindly." Crimson Beauty watched the stack of cakes draw nearer.

"How many would you like?" Peridot smiled. Crimson instantly recognized the expression on the unicorn's muzzle. This mare retained the behavior and mannerisms of one of the Good Families. "Two, please, if you would be so kind." Sergey Brin had called her 'Sloane'. Crimson wracked her brain to try to remember if she had ever met the green mare back in her bipedal days. Even if she had, Crimson realized, she may have simply been introduced as somepony's mother.

Which Peridot Cabochon must be. She must be one of the other children's mothers.

She wasn't Asher's mother. Who then? Asher had been twelve when he had been turned to stone. It couldn't be Isla, Isla was very young. Eight, probably. Oliver? Oliver was large, but he was large for his age. Besides, his grip on Isla was so fierce, and dug so deeply into her clothing and sides that they had simply been left in position. They would likely be revivified together, when Isla turned eighteen by the calender.

It had to be Milo Cameron. Peridot Cabochon could only be Milo's mother. That meant that Milo must also have been twelve years old. There would be a double revivification.

Crimson looked at one end of the table to the other. Celestia. Luna. Two princesses, two statues, two delithifications. Hopefully two ponies. The alternative was... too terrible to contemplate.

Milo's mother had gone pony for him. Crimson's heart swelled. Two human parents were here for their children. The issue of Asher's father was still an utter curiosity - why Celestia was allowing him to remain human outside the Masada since the new ruling was a mystery. But in any case, here were two children who had not been forsaken by their parents, and that was beyond wonderful.

It also stung.

The idli in Crimson's mouth seemed to lose its deliciousness. Once again, thoughts of her own human mother and father flooded Crimson's mind. Now, it wasn't just that neither Father nor Mother had been there for her transformation, or that they had never tried to contact her after she had become a pony. It was that it had been six years now. Their rejection appeared absolute, and utter.

"Crimmy?" Plantain had a hoof through the wide handle of a pitcher. She had just poured herself something greenish that smelled lovely. "You okay? Want some melonade?"

Crimson Beauty snapped back to the present. "Please forgive me. I was... lost... in my thoughts." Princess Celestia seemed to be talking to Peridot about her career in Canterlot. Apparently, Milo's mother was a medical researcher.

"...and that was when I realized that I had a talent for it. Arcanum sent me to see Esoteric Gossamer - she's the head of magical research at the college..." Celestia nodded, she knew the unicorn "...and she suggested I go talk to the heads of the medical school. I never forgot the glimpse you gave us of how things really are, beyond the five senses we knew on earth. As a unicorn, now I can see that greater world whenever I wish, and... I find it fascinating."

"Are you working on anything currently, Peridot?" Celestia floated another tiny pillow of what appeared to be some kind of dim sum into her mouth. She seemed pleased by the taste of it.

"I'm on a project where we use a ring of oricalchic lodestone with an empyric crystal suspended in the middle as a thaumatic lens. The concept is that it could act like a magical microscope. Where mere lenses can resolve the simple image of something, if this works, it would become a dweonic microscope, allowing a unicorn to resolve the actual substance of things. It's quite exciting." Peridot sipped from her goblet. "You could project your mind right into individual cells and see them in the process of being alive. It might even be possible to repair individual cells, or discover simpler ways to regenerate tissues on the large scale!"

Crimson watched Celestia listening to the green unicorn. She seemed genuinely interested in Cabochon's work. Although the princess could weave new cells from nothing but the raw substance of magic itself, the effort of this little unicorn mare to gain even the tiniest fraction of such majestic perception and ability was not the least laughable to her. If anything, the princess seemed proud of Peridot.

"What you are going on about, we had before. Electron microscopes. Atomic force microscopes. Quantum interference microscopy! Not that there are electrons or atoms or quantum forces here in pony land." Sergey Brin slapped the fork that had been provided to him alone, down. "We had it all, before."

Cabochon stared coldly at the human. "Those clumsy toys are nothing compared to what I am speaking of, Sergey." The green unicorn's voice was tight and strained, barely under control. "I am not talking of petty images or computer reconstructions. I go down myself, with my will, right into living cells and float with them, inside them, experiencing them as thriving entities that I know and feel inside and out. There is no separation, no distance. You know nothing, Sergey. Have you already forgotten Celestia's vision?"

Brin glowered and mumbled to himself. Watching the antagonistic exchange made Crimson, Plantain and Morning all desperate to discover how - after all of the events of the last six years - Sergey Brin could be at this table still in human form.

Morning Star decided to break the ensuing silence with a peripheral question. One that might just lead into finding out how Brin could be at Canterlot. "Princess Celestia?"

"Yes, Morning Star?"

"I am curious about what happened to the diamond dog servants that served the Good Families. I know they were removed from the Masada, but... I greatly cared about my guardian, a dog named 'Gnashia'. I do not know if she was ever forced to hold human weapons for them, but..."

This got a jerk and a short glare from Brin, across the table.

"...even if this was so, I know in my heart that she would have not wanted to. She was a good friend, and told me stories when I was lonely. I would feel sad to think the poor dogs being punished for the actions of those they served." The second look from Sergey spoke of deeply restrained anger. Morning Star shuddered.

Much to her surprise, it was the princess of the night that answered her. "Dear heart that doth chafe for thine helper, take thee comfort and be thee at gentle peace. The acts of the wayward taint not our regard towards their servants, and we do assure thee that thy faithful hoofmaiden hath been well placed in goodly and worthy circumstances. Indeed the entirety of the servants canid have been released from any poisonous comprehensions, and received the finest of counsel. They are newly positioned in places of that good service to which all canines aspire."

"You mean you erased any memory of firearms from them - and likely their knowledge of us as well..." Sergey's eyes bored into the princess "...and then gave them to somebody else!" Brin finished by slamming his goblet down so that a drop leaped into the air and then fell on the table.

Princess Luna was quiet for a short time, studying the human. "Devoid of strong leadership, diamond dogs dwell in misery. Such is their wont and their nature. An' so tis our province to provide those who plead to us with that service which they do require to thrive. We would not let languish any compassioned souls without succor."

"What of our needs? What of human needs?" Sergey was beginning to breath hard.

"Armies martialed and weapons crafted in opposition to both law and sense be not needs, but lusts, and despicable desires at that. Our sister would be at rights to conclude the annoyance of thee, save for her heedless adherence to keeping her honor even when others have disgraced their own. Thou dost sit at our table, with special clemency granted thee, and dare speak of demands when thine own honor lies as a tattered flag?"

Brin shrank against her fierce eyes even more than from her words. Finally, after hanging his head low over his plate, the man managed to speak. "I apologize, your highness. Please forgive me." He dared not look up.

Crimson Beauty looked to Morning Star and Plantain. All felt very uncomfortable now. Seeing the nocturnal regent upset, even quietly annoyed, was surprisingly intense. Princess Luna possessed a presence that filled even the largest hall.

The three friends fidgeted, unable to eat. The silence was oppressive, and they weren't sure whether to act as if nothing had happened, or to say something, or to change the subject entirely.

"Please relax, little ones." The three fillies turned their eyes to Celestia. There was no question who she was speaking to. "Though there may be some tensions..." Brin continued to stare at his plate. "...we are all friends here, and all together in the same wish - to see poor Asher and young Milo returned to life and joy once more."

"And hooves." Brin said the words flatly. There was no more emotion left within him.

"Yes, Sergey Brin. And by your word, if your son chooses both life and hooves - for they are the same thing with him - then, as you have demanded, such will also be true for you. If dear Asher chooses to remain human, then I am contractually bound by our mutual Covenant to let his earthly nature take its lawful course." This last left Celestia looking sad.

"I get to speak with him, as me, no matter what, right?" Brin's voice was a pleading one, insecure and frightened despite his former bravado.

"Sergey Brendalthorpe Brin." The princess almost seemed annoyed. "I always, always keep my promises."

Crimson, Plantain, and Morning walked with Peridot and Brin behind the two princesses. All had, in their own ways, been glad that the tense dinner was over. They were on their way to the Waiting Room, where both diarchs would work together to revivify, and hopefully transform both Asher Brin and Milo Cameron.

"Ms. Cabochon?" Crimson had finally decided what she wanted to ask the mother of Milo. It had taken her all of dinner to work up the courage to ask it.

"Call me Peridot." The mare offered a faint, only slightly false smile.

"I wished to say how very glad I am that you are here for Milo. I know your devotion will mean all of Equestria to him." The first part was easy. Crimson found herself uncertain again about the second part. "I wonder if... if you would mind me asking... rather, what I wish to know is... no, not like that. Oh dear." It wasn't that Crimson was afraid of Peridot, rather she felt afraid of what her own reaction might be to whatever answer she received.

"You want to know why I became a pony?" The group turned a corner, and headed up a long and curving staircase.

Crimson climbed the steps steadily. At one point, Sergey asked for a rest, he was out of breath. "Yes, Ms... Peridot. I would like to know if... if you did it... if you did it to be with Milo."

Peridot stared straight ahead, not looking at anypony, as they all waited for the human among them to regain his stamina. "Now that I am a pony, I wish more than anything that my reason had been for Milo. It is my shame that I choose ponification only because I could not bear to remain trapped within the walls of the Masada. The others blamed me for the discovery of their plan to train and arm the diamond dog servants. I was the one that ordered my dog to shoot a pig. Until that moment, we had kept the pigs isolated and unaware of where they were, or that humans were involved at all. I refused to accept that the pigs had souls too. Thus we were discovered even before you entered that forest. I was shunned and constantly pollbeaten. I felt like I was suffocating. I converted because I imagined I would start my own little empire apart from the rest."

It shocked Crimson that Peridot could talk of such things so freely. The look in her unfocused eye suggested speaking of these matters caused her suffering, yet she showed no emotion in her voice. Finally, Crimson found a reply. "But... you are here for Milo now! And if you are here at all, then that means that you care for him, that you wish him with you, that you want to be his mother!" Crimson felt bad now, for having broached the topic at all.

They were climbing again, up to the level with the Waiting Room and the statues. "Yes. I want to be the mother of my colt, I want to show him love and tenderness, to guide him as he grows, and to make a happy home for him. I want these things more than I can say." They had reached the proper floor now. Peridot looked Crimson in the eye, finally. "But I only wanted these things after I became a mare. I only truly loved my colt after my ambition was stripped from me, and my desire to rule replaced by pony compassion. I do not care that I am not the me that bore my colt. I fear that Milo will not want me to be his mother, because it will be so obvious that I cared so little for him before."

And to that, Crimson had nothing to say.

12. The Six New Mornings - Asher and Milo, Part Two

The Conversion Bureau

HUMAN

in Equestria
By Chatoyance

The Six New Mornings - Asher and Milo, Part Two

Special thanks to my spouse Aedina for her assistance with historically accurate Elizabethan speech.

The group had walked in silence down the long, curving corridor that circled one of the enormous minaret towers that rose high above the interwoven halls, wards, and keeps below. Canterlot castle was a vast structure built less as a defensive fortress than as a great and luxurious palace. It was of some note that the castle was larger than the city below it, and held more rooms than all the shops and houses surrounding the incredible, cliffside megastructure.

Once again, they had to wait for a short time to allow Sergey to rest. Canterlot had been built for ponies, but especially for the princesses, to whom distance was never an issue, and furlongs of corridor were as nothing. Occasionally, castle staff could be seen going about their duties - cleaning, arranging rooms for guests, changing decorations and artworks to keep things novel and interesting, and even altering the colors of walls and drapes for the benefit of future guests.

Before they moved on, Sergey watched with some interest a unicorn maintenance worker using the magic of his horn to alter some long, hanging decorative banners from purple to green. The unicorn concentrated as the new color spread through the fabric, rippling up from the bottom of the banner to its top, some sixty feet above him. Inside his head, Sergey mentally calculated the distance as around two hundred hooves. He had been carefully studying for this day.

At the threshold to the Waiting Room, the princesses stopped.

"Prithy move thee naught, and bide thee here, save that we do summon thee. Our work is dire and great is the risk to thee and thy companions should thou prove distraction unto us. Thou shouldst consider this chamber as a sanctum, let neither hoof nor curiosity lead thee to ruinous ingress. When our work be done, thou wilt be called forth, to greet and mingle as thou desireth." Luna nodded at her sister.

"Sergey Brin has been promised a moment to speak to his son, before he receives remedial ponification himself. He will be called first, and will enter alone if all goes well." Celestia gave Sergey a look, to which he nodded, and then the two royal sisters entered the chamber of statues.

Peridot stared through the entrance at her granite son, perpetually crawling in horror from a killing frost. She hung her head, eyes squeezed shut, soundlessly mouthing something. Crimson noted that Celestia looked briefly back, directly at Peridot, before turning once again to the statue of Asher.

When Peridot opened her eyes and raised her head, Crimson felt the desire to comfort the unicorn mare. "I feel quite certain that Milo will be overjoyed to see you here, Peridot. I truly do."

Peridot studied the little filly. "And what, pray tell, makes you think that? Did Milo speak to you of me?"

Crimson shook her head. "No. Milo was not very talkative during our journey at all. But I do know this much - though I had every reason to believe otherwise, when I first found myself alive and on my hooves, the first thing I did was to look around in the vain hope that my parents might be there to greet me. I think this to be the first wish of any foal, and I cannot think otherwise of your Milo." Peridot still seemed doubtful. "I am very, very happy with my new mother, but even so, I still find myself sometimes wishing to even be acknowledged by my original parents. I cannot believe Milo would be anything but grateful for your presence here."

The grass-green mare's eyes almost betrayed restrained sorrow before her deeply ingrained formality won. "You know nothing of me, or my colt, but I appreciate that you are attempting to speak from kindness." Peridot's silver-gray tail swished sharply, as if it were discharging emotion itself. "I can only hope that you... are right."

Within the Waiting Room, the diarchs of Equestria wrestled with primal thaumaturgical forces. Two statues had been converted from stone to perishing flesh, and then that flesh had been wreathed in dweomer as the princesses went into some kind of supernal trance.

As the five spectators peered through the open doorway, the horrifically injured bodies of Asher Brin and Milo Cameron were suspended in the air, while ribbons and tendrils of brightly glowing magic dissolved away dead flesh and dying bone. Both boys hung in the air, Milo sans legs and fingers and much of his face, Asher missing much more than that. Both pony and human could not long gaze at this, for the sight of exposed nerve and muscle was disturbing in the extreme.

This was the moment of truth for Milo and Asher. Even now, Crimson and Morning realized, the princesses would be communing with the two boys, deep inside their minds, asking them the single question that would determine whether they would live as magical ponies, or perish as unalloyed examples of mortal humanity.

Asher Brin was walking.

His backpack was very heavy, filled with water and nanopacks of self-reconstituting food. He also had a medical kit, a self-constructing shelter, spare clothing, a holopad, his personal netlink, and a spare netlink (just in case), a portable heater, his climbing boots and belay gloves, rope, carabiners and pitons, quickdraws and hammer and bolts.

In the very bottom of the pack, where his uncle could never see, was Lilly the Leopard. Lilly was his only true friend. Lilly cared. Lilly understood. Lilly was love.

Once, all of Antarctica was covered in ice. The bare, cool landscape was devoid of plant or animal, but it was free of ice now. It was the last place on the earth where cold breezes still blew, and untainted soil could still be found. The domes were miles behind now, as Asher left boot prints on endless rocky and bare ground that no human had ever trod before.

"Equestria looked just like this, once, you know. Jagged rock and sterile gravel. The sky wasn't blue yet, it was churning chaos. Luna and I hadn't figured out what to do about the sky yet."

Asher froze in shock and confusion. The princess of the sun was hiking beside him! That was impossible, she couldn't be here until Equestria arrived, and that wouldn't happen for another year...

"W-What... how... what's going on?" Asher looked around at the barren landscape, the rugged, jutting mountains of solid, bare rock, and the endless miles of gravel and stone. He slapped at his jacket and his legs, feeling the blows from his own hands. He touched his face. It wasn't a dream. It couldn't be a dream, could it? It seemed so real.

Finally, Asher's gaze focused on the princess alone. "You left." The words were quiet, but behind them was a vast reservoir of penned up anger and betrayal. "You just... left."

Infinite compassion, and deep sorrow met Asher's eyes. "I had no choice. I was bound by the terms of the Covenant, I..."

"To hell with the Covenant! I'm only a kid! I needed you! You were the only good thing... the only... good..." Asher was on his knees in the gravel, his hands clawing at the stones. His back heaved with his sobs. "You left... you just up and... just like that... after all that..."

Asher clung to the nuzzling head. He wrapped his hands around the great, graceful, milk-white neck and soaked silken hair with anguished tears. "It was so hard, oh Celestia, it was so hard... you just left and... dad... and all the family stuff... and Lilly. Oh, poor Lilly..."

The memory of his father tearing his stuffed toy leopard into shreds brought on wracking tears. "I... hated you. I hated you so much..."

"I know." Celestia lay carefully down on the endless, barren gravel and held the boy in her forelegs.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." Asher clung to the princess as if he would never let go. "You left. I know you explained, I know why... you didn't want to, I know... but... you left."

"Would you like to be a pony? Would you like to be a colt and run free through tender grasses? Feel the wind through your mane and ears as you gallop over acres of green? Do you still want to be my little pony, Asher Brin?"

"Call me Swiftwind, please? Like before? Like when we talked late at night?" Asher and the ghostly princess could only speak true late at night, behind his door, when his father was far, and sound would not carry. For months, Asher had been little 'Swiftwind', imagining himself as a colt in Equestria, a unicorn that could chase the very breeze, and who played with little animal friends by a pond surrounded by flowers. Night after night, the shared storytelling gave the child the only genuine joy he had ever known.

And then the Covenant had finally been signed, and Celestia had been forced by human commandment to go away and never contact any child of the Good Families again.

"I never forgot about you, Swiftwind. But I am bound by the agreements I make. I would not be worthy of having Equestria in my care if I could not be trusted to keep my word. That is the only reason I left you. I was forced against my will, by what was necessary to save the humans of the earth." Celestia was warm against Swiftwind's cheek.

He wrapped his forelegs around hers and sighed. She was back. She had come back for him.

Swiftwind raised his head. He found himself laying on the floor of a great marble chamber. Above him, a dome with an inlaid design of sun and moon gleamed in the light. Celestia towered above his new, pony body, as the last rippling glow of the princess's magic was withdrawn from his reborn flesh.

He stared at his new hooves, dark blue, his favorite color. By his shadow, he could see he was a unicorn. He truly was Swiftwind now, just as he had wished for, just as he had imagined out loud to Celestia, every night, for four of the six months she had been with him. His favorite bedtime story had come true.

"Try to stand, Swiftwind. Do not fear, I will support you." Golden light covered his barrel, and Swiftwind felt a solid grasp that he knew would never let him fall. As he clumsily rose to his hooves, he noticed princess Luna streaming silver magic to a mass suspended in the air.

"Celestia?" Swiftwind stood, his legs only a little shaky. "Who... is that?"

Milo heard his footsteps echoing down the long hallway. The Conciergerie had been taken over and partially rebuilt. What was left of it was now surrounded by plascrete walls fifty feet high, patrolled constantly by Blackmesh guards. His mother was using the ruin for her purposes, which left him to explore the forbidden parts to alleviate his boredom.

La Conciergerie had once been part of a palace, or a prison - Milo didn't really care which - and this made it somewhat interesting. It wasn't Antarctica, though. Paris was hot, like most of the world was hot, and smoggy, and dirty and awful. Milo was upset, as usual. He missed his total immersion tank, he missed the excitement of exploring the hypernet, of all the virtual worlds and all of his virtual friends.

Instead, he had to put up with the peasant brats that belonged to the Blackmesh families. He couldn't stand the little creeps. They didn't know anything interesting, the most that any of them understood about the hypernet was that it could be watched from a public kiosk, not a single one of them had ever gone truly virtual. Worse, they played with their hands and feet, roughhousing like brutes. One had even struck him, once. It made Milo want to kill them. They should be killed. The lot of them.

Mother handled the scientific and research concerns of the Good Families. It had its benefits - this was why Milo enjoyed the fanciest and most up-to-date hypernet tank in existence. Mother needed it, and he got to use it when she didn't need it. Life had been good in Antarctica. But then the bubble showed up.

Apparently it was some kind of dimension thing, out in the Pacific Ocean. The head of the Families wanted it properly destroyed, and for the last few weeks that had meant having to deal with the endless filthy ruins of this old castle-prison place, while mother worked out whatever it was she had to work out. Apparently they had moved all sorts of science stuff here, when things got bad.

Milo also missed his books. He had real books, made of paper and everything, back in Antarctica. Stories of adventure and magical worlds, science fiction tales and cartoon books too. Books were wonderful. Milo loved the smell of them, and the fact they were rare. He wished they had been new, of course, but even if they were old, they were still beautiful. And they were his. He owned them, and they were solid and real.

That was the one problem with diving into the hypernet. The worlds were incredible, and they could be seen, and heard, and felt, but it was impossible to bring anything back. Printing out virtual objects always disappointed him. The finished wand or gun or magical orb felt real, and it glowed or flashed or made noises as if it were real, but it was always just a toy. Inside the hypernet, Milo could ride dragons and cast spells and fly starships, but in the real world, no matter how hard he tried, the objects he printed out never did what they could do in the virtual world.

Milo kicked at a chunk of stone. Half of the face of a cherub adorned the broken bit of masonry. This part of the Conciergerie was off limits, because it was unstable. At least he could be alone here. He hoped the bubble in the sea would get destroyed soon, because then his mother would go back to Antarctica, and he could finally go adventuring again. He could have magic and lasers and strange, alien worlds to explore once more.

The real world was so boring.

Milo followed the hallway, threading between fallen columns and broken glass. At the end of the huge, ancient corridor was an arched doorway. The look of it interested Milo, because it reminded him of the entrance to the Mumorpagun Citadel Of Ahr-Peyjee on his favorite shard. It was a good place to grind levels and it was partially randomized, so that it didn't get entirely boring. The best part was the chance that the chamber of the Golden Lute would show up. That only had a one in fifty chance of appearing, supposedly. Milo had encountered it twice.

The only treasure behind these broken doors would be more rubble, but the Conciergerie kind of looked like something cool from his games, so at least it was sort of fun to pretend. Sort of. At least there weren't any other kids here. Milo decided to check for traps, just as if he were on the 'net. Nothing. Carefully, he clambered around and over the broken edges of the heavy door, and entered the round room beyond it.

The chamber had a domed roof, with a strangely familiar design on it. A moon and a sun. Milo followed a marble pillar down, past the tall, arched windows. In the eerie light, he found a statue on a stone platform. It appeared to be a carving of a boy, dragging his legs as if they were hurt and wouldn't work. The look on the stone face was one of fear.

The face looked familiar.

"Goodly creature, thy princess hath arrived."

The voice was not immediately familiar. As Milo whirled around, the source became clear - the diarch of the night, princess Luna, stood before him. Milo had never met the princess of star and moon before, he had only ever seen her image. The reality was strange - in one sense, Luna was overwhelming, her power and presence filled the chamber, yet in another sense, the dark princess seemed oddly vulnerable and insecure. There was no question she was younger - whatever that truly meant to such immortal creatures - than her sister Celestia.

She stood tall, her head far above his, but not as tall as her elder sister. Her empyrean mane and tail waved in that esoteric breeze that only alicorns could feel, and it seemed as if it were made of the night sky itself. Milo felt that if he but stepped forward too far, he would fall into interstellar void, only to be lost forever amongst distant and alien stars.

This wasn't right. It was Celestia who had appeared first, ghostlike, to live with him for six full months. They had become the closest of companions, and he had shared his deepest hopes and fears with the solar regent. She had been his everpresent companion, closer to him by far than his own, emotionally distant mother. In some ways, Celestia had been the only mother he had ever truly known.

But all of that - the appearance of instances of Celestia to the children and adults of the Good Families - that hadn't happened yet. Not in Paris. That happened later, after the attack on the bubble in the sea, after the Three Days War. None of those events had happened yet... Milo felt confused, as if he somehow knew the future as if it had already happened. He took a step back, staring at the starlit princess, unsure of what was real and what was not.

"Art thou in distress? Dost thou require succor?"

The memories began flooding back. Six months of spectral Celestia, promises of being a pony in a magical land, Celestia being forced to leave. The huge fight with his mother, and how she didn't care one bit. The Masada. Running away.

The forest. Oh... the forest.

Milo fell back against the stone base behind him, only to stand up again and turn about. He knew instantly who the statue looked like now. It looked like himself.

Milo turned again, and faced the princess of the night. "I'm dead, aren't I?"

Luna slowly shook her head, her ethereal mane twinkling with stars as she did so. "Nay, little human colt, but thou doth hang as by a thread betwixt light and darkness, thy very essence embrangled within gravest peril."

Milo tried to take this in, but he was frightened and the princesses' archaic words seemed to jumble in his mind. "What?"

The dusky jewel of Equestrian night seemed briefly annoyed. She stamped a hoof. Then she sighed. "You're pretty messed up. There isn't any way to save you without breaking that stupid Covenant your parents forced Celestia into. The royal unicorns turned all of you to stone to preserve you until you were legally eighteen."

Milo swallowed and leaned against the stone base that held the statue of him.

"It's like this, Milo. You're gonna croak unless you get turned into a pony. Are you still alright with that? Celestia told me you really wanted to be a pony, but I'm forced to ask. The Covenant again." Unearthly blue-green eyes looked at Milo with both amusement and resignation.

"Of course I want to... why do you talk like that? If you can talk normally, I mean?" Milo had always been curious about bizarre or unusual things, and having the princess of the moon chatting like any ordinary pony in the middle of... whatever this was... felt utterly unhinged.

Luna tilted her head down, and looked up at him through her lashes. A faint grin could be seen on her midnight muzzle. "Our familiar age be long ago lost to us, and in mischievous rebellion against cruel time, we keep our tongue of centuries past as keepsake to comfort us from our pitiable loss."

Milo tried, he truly did, but the situation was so overwhelming that he once again was forced to ask "What? Sorry. It's just that... sorry."

Luna's grin faded. "I miss the old days, and all of my old friends. They're all gone now. Speaking like we used to back then makes me feel less sad about missing them."

"Yeah. I can see that. I'm sorry you had to stop doing it for me." Milo remembered having heard that the younger princess had been lost or absent for a long time. No wonder she seemed sort of sad.

"So, Milo..." The supreme diarch of the night took on a serious expression. "Do you wish to be a pony?"

"Can I be a pegasus? You know, like Daring Do?" The adventurous fantasy books had been among the first Equestrian works to be translated and made available to the population of the dying earth. Milo had loved them and it was the character of Daring Do that had made Equestria seem even better than playing on the hypernet. In Equestria, magical items truly were... magical.

"If I make you a pegasus, will you choose to become a pony and live?" Luna waited.

"Yes! Please turn me into a pegasus!" Milo became excited. He would be able to learn to fly. He could go adventuring for real. The shape of his future began to form in his mind, and it was fantastic.

"HUZZAH!" Luna yelled, grateful that the little human colt had not refused the gift of life. "Um... that means..."

Milo grinned. "I know 'Huzzah', princess. See? HUZZAH!"

Luna met Milo's grin with one of her own. "THE HUZZAH HAST BEEN DOUBLED!"

Swiftwind watched as the shape of a dark purple pegasus with a black mane was gently floated down to the marble floor. It was Milo, Celestia had explained. Silvery light removed itself from Milo's pony body. The pegasus colt opened emerald eyes, which gradually began to focus and explore the room. Soon, they fixed on Swiftwind.

"Milo? We're ponies now! We made it!"

Tears began to form in the pegasus colt's eyes. "Asher?"

The deep blue unicorn's nod confirmed it. "I'm sorry, there was nothing I could do. It all happened so fast, it was everything I could do just to... I'm sorry..."

"It's okay, Milo. Sheesh. I don't even know what happened. Last thing I remember was Seraphina breathing into my face. I was kinda out of it. Her breath stank."

The purple pegasus laughed at this. "Yeah, she jumped on you. It was weird." Milo raised his long neck and looked around. "Sera? Seraphina?"

"Your friend awaits you, outside that door." Milo became aware that princess Celestia was present as well. "You may go to her when you can stand." Celestia turned her attention to her sister. "You have done very well, dear Luna, as I knew you would. Could you please help your new pony to try his first steps and guide him outside? There is work yet to be done, and Swiftwind must remain here for now."

Luna nodded. "Our sister doth have other business upon which she must attend. Come thee apace, that joyful reunion with thy beloved companions may be obtained. Be not afeared to stand upon thy new legs, for we shall be thy brace."

The next few minutes had Milo trying out his unsteady new legs, and flapping his even more awkward new wings until at last, with Luna's patient help, he was finally able to exit the Waiting Room. Swiftwind watched his friend while practicing his own gait, walking around the pedestal that had once supported his lithified form. Occasionally, his eyes locked onto the remaining display - Oliver and Isla, standing as if playing, save for the grim and terrified looks upon their frozen features.

When Milo and Luna had finally passed through the doorway to a chorus of joyful pony shouts and hoofclops and hugs beyond, Swiftwind wanted to go too, but Celestia held him back.

"You will meet your friends soon, my little pony, but first there is a promise I must keep. There is some... one... who I have agreed to allow to speak with you. Nothing is expected of you, Swiftwind, save your patience in this matter." Celestia turned and walked toward the door. "Remain here, I shall return immediately."

Swiftwind carefully navigated himself to a window beside one of the massive columns that graced the marble room. Beyond the glass, his magenta eyes tried to encompass the sheer magnitude of the castle and city - and depths - below. The base of the gigantic tower he was inside vanished within massive structures, these, in turn, gave way to a multiply-tiered city. Beyond the semicircular balconies of the city, an improbably deep drop led to rolling flatlands, and in the far distance, impossibly steep mountains.

As the freshly ponified newfoal watched tiny ponies strolling miniature pathways far below, he was startled by a flash of gray and yellow. The air was filled with flying pegasai, and one had passed right beside the very window from which Swiftwind stared in astonishment.

"Swiftwind?" The dark blue unicorn colt regretfully dragged his vision from the wonders beyond the window, back to the solid marble of the circular chamber. Celestia had brought a bipedal entity into the room, a human man. Recognition hit just as she spoke again. "Your father wishes to say something to you."

Every muscle in Swiftwind's body became tight with fear and shock. The unicorn colt swallowed, carefully, backing up slightly.

Sergey Brin crouched down, so that his small human eyes could meet the enormous ones of his child. "Asher... um... Swiftwind." The name seemed difficult to say, but Sergey struggled on. "Son... I asked Celestia to allow me to remain human long enough to say something to you. She doesn't let humans out of the Masada now. We... we sort of made some mistakes. But that's not important." Sergey noticed the way Celestia was looking on. He resolved not to waste the moment on details about having broken the Covenant.

"Ash... Swift... wind... Swiftwind... I know I haven't been... I know I've been hard on you." Sergey got down on one knee, a hand on the cool marble floor. "Maybe... maybe I've been a right bastard, I guess. But I only did it to toughen you up, to make you a... man... so you could rise in the Families, have a chance at better, have a chance at the top." Brin couldn't meet his son's alien eyes, and for a while he stared at the floor while he spoke.

"Son, I'm going to be a pony soon, like you. Don't got a choice, really, now. Got a contract with Celestia and all, and she's a real stickler... what I'm trying to say is, I don't know if I'll still be me after that, or how much of me will be left - I don't know how much of you is in there either - but... but I've got to say this while I'm still walking on two legs, son. So you'll believe me. So you'll know it's me saying this, and not some... not whatever I become when the princess changes me.

"Asher... son... Swiftwind, whatever... just hear me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hit you. I'm sorry I hurt you. I hurt you a lot, I know I... I did a lot of things I know hurt you so much and... I can't take any of that back. I can't change the past, and I wish I could, but... I love you son. I truly do. Honestly. That's why I'm here. That's why I'm letting her change me into a pony. To be with you, son. I won't leave you to fend for yourself in this strange world. I know I haven't been the kindest father but... I won't abandon my only son. I... I love you, boy. I do. And I just needed you to hear that.

"I needed you to hear that... while I'm still me. While I'm still the old dad you remember... the dad you ran away from - and I don't blame you one bit. Not one bit. I... I'm sorry, and I love you, and... and that's that, I suppose." Sergey Brin, his eyes wet and red, stood up, slowly, and turned to the princess of the sun. "Go ahead. You better do me now. Before I turn chicken and bolt. I'm not good at agreements, you might have noticed."

Before Celestia could energize her horn, Swiftwind had collided with his human father. The two went down on the hard marble floor, and Sergey would have cracked his skull save for the sudden, brief, enfolding golden glow that had caught him, and set him gently down.

Human father and pony son embraced, clumsily, both in tears, their words unintelligible.

Any transformations would have to wait just a little while longer.

Milo Cameron finally caught his breath.

Seraphina - now a pegasus called 'Morning Star' - had tackled him, and behind her was Petra - 'Crimson Beauty', an earthpony, and Plantain too, the little performer whose bunny friend had defeated the Displacer Beast. Milo had been drenched in mares, and laughter, and gladness at the mere fact of his being alive. He had nearly drowned beneath this ocean of attention, and only now had he finally found his way to the surface.

One pony waited. A pale green unicorn stood apart, nervous and alone. Her eyes flitted to and away from the happy scene. Occasionally, she pawed the marble floor with a forehoof.

As Milo pulled away from his three traveling companions, friends now all, they followed his gaze and turned their own to the green mare that stood alone.

Milo studied the silver-maned unicorn. There was something familiar about her mannerisms. Something about the way she stood, the way she held herself, the way her eyes moved and her muzzle was fixed. "Who's she?" Milo looked at Crimson and then nodded at the green mare.

"Oh, Milo! That is your own dear mother!" Crimson's greatest hope had come true for little Milo. "She became a pony, just for you, Milo! She wanted to be with you, to be your mother! She wanted you so very much that she sought remedial ponification just to take care of you and make a home for you!" Crimson felt a tear in her eye. "Go to her, Milo, go to your mother! She's right there, waiting only for you!"

The purple pegasus colt carefully stood up on his newly created legs. The three fillies trembled at the thought of such a wonderful and touching reunion.

"Mother." Milo studied his mother-as-a-pony. The same rigid stance. The same distant look in her eyes - when she would look at him at all. Milo felt sadness slowly fill his heart. Ponification was supposed to improve humans, cause them to shed their harshness and enhance their love and compassion. But his mother was not running to hold him. She did not seem to have changed at all.

"Milo... I..." More than anything in all of her two lives, Peridot Cabochon wanted to run to her son, to embrace him, to hold him tight and tell him that nothing else in both universes mattered more than him. Just him. But she felt ashamed. He would know, he would see how she had changed, and hate her for not loving him before. Peridot couldn't bear that. It hurt too much. If only she could find the courage to try, if only she had any reason to believe he might want her, even a little bit, even just the tiniest bit...

Milo stood, waiting. The hug did not come. His mother had become a pony, but she wouldn't even look at him. She hated him. Because he was a pegasus, and not a unicorn like her, he reasoned. Nothing he ever did was good enough to win her affection. She never cared about anything to do with him. She kept him fed, she made sure he had stuff. But her work always came first, he had no illusions that he had only ever been just another box to check off of her life's itinerary.

For his entire human existence, Milo Cameron had truly wanted only one thing. He wanted his mother to love him. Or even just to like him. To show any approval at all, any emotion at all. He always had stuff. There was always material possessions. He lacked for nothing... but her. He had lost himself in books and games and finally Celestia... but what he really wanted was his mother, and she had no time or love to give.

She still stood there, staring at the floor. Milo saw a tear fall from her muzzle. He understood instantly what it meant. She was disappointed in him. Again. As always. He had just awakened from the most terrible horror of his life, and been transformed from a human boy into a pegasus colt. If any foal in any world ever needed their mother, it would surely be him, and she stood there, weeping, because he wasn't good enough!

"Why are you here then? Just go! Just LEAVE!" Milo shouted, his heart broken.

Peridot's eyes burst with tears, a flood let loose as she realized the worst had happened. Her colt, the one thing she truly cared about, wanted nothing to do with her. He had seen that she loved him now, and in the comparison had utterly rejected her for failing to love him when she had been human. She couldn't blame him. She wasn't worthy of such a son. He would be better off with some native Equestrian than the likes of her.

If only he knew how desperately she loved him. But that was done. The only thing she could do now, was to make way for his future happiness.

Peridot ran weeping down the hall, her precise gait turned to stumbling ruin, as she dashed as fast as her hooves could gallop, straight to the great glass window at the end, and the forty-five hundred hoof drop to the cobblestones below.

13. The Six New Mornings - Asher and Milo, Part Three

The Conversion Bureau

HUMAN

in Equestria
By Chatoyance

The Six New Mornings - Asher and Milo, Part Three

Lime Sherbet is used with the permission by the superb author Gabriel LaVedier, from the excellent Dames Of The Tea Table, which you should read because it is wonderful.
Special thanks to my spouse Aedina for her assistance with historically accurate Elizabethan speech.

The window at the end of the hall looked out over a nearly eighteen hundred foot drop to the roof of the massive castle keep. The tower was close to the edge, so that only a dozen feet separated the edge of the keep roof from the tower. The keep itself was over a thousand feet high, below this was the first tier of Canterlot city, another thousand feet, which led to two more tiers, and then the massive five thousand foot drop to the rolling plains below the impossibly steep Canterlot Mountain.

Under the physics of old earth, the whole of Canterlot, castle, city, mountain and all, would have been impossible. It would have collapsed because of everything from the inverse-square law to the angle of repose. Earthly atomic forces were insufficient to the task of holding such a megastructure together, the semicircular gardens would have crumbled from shearing forces even before they could have been completed during construction.

But this was not earth, and the physics that humanity had evolved under had no place in Equestria. Dweons took the place of atoms, planar attraction stood in for gravity, and the inverse square law had only been encountered the first time hooves stepped outside the bounds of the Equestrian cosmos. The air pressure was the same at the top of the impossibly vertical Canterlot Mountain as it was upon the flat, rolling land below. Above all, the sky truly was a dome, not crystal perhaps, but solid, and the sun and moon were vast and arcane disks upon it, the stars jewels of force set within the substance of it.

Celestia and Luna had sought whatever order they could find, as they spun and careened through the chaos in the ages after Discord. Only one thing in their universe remained still - the ruins of their simple castle. It seemed ancient, yet it might have been thrown forth from Discord's chaos newly created to appear old. The sisters had memories, broken, fragmented memories, of having lived in the castle, but even these might well be entirely false.

The ruins of the castle were stable and still, and the sisters - for that is how they thought of themselves - clung to it while all around changed and swirled in senseless horror. The castle was also a clue - it was a direction that pointed beyond chaos to something the sisters wanted more than anything. Order.

Tiny peepholes, no larger than an earthly proton, were Celestia's answer. The castle had pointed the way, and Celestia had followed that glimmer of hope, and each brief new glimpse left the sisters hungry for more. New concepts entered their minds - flat surfaces that did not change, flat surfaces called 'land'. Piles of land, 'mountains', and pools of stable, constant water in 'lakes' and 'oceans' and 'ponds'. An arching dome above of pale blue and deep black that seemed to turn somehow.

Over great time, they took what they could see of the other world, and interpreted it as best they could. In this way the chaos was divided into land and chaos above, and eventually the chaos itself plastered over with a dome made from the underside of the land, space easily wrapped and twisted upon itself, for that is what the sisters understood and knew.

Eventually, Celestia spied life. The solid thing ran on hooves and panted with breath. It possessed tail and ears and eyes. If the universe was made better by order, then existence could only be better by being solid and still as well. The sisters took permanent shape, and walked, for the first time, upon the flatness they had made. And then, in such overwhelming stillness, they cried, for they knew they were alone.

Life, was a pattern. It could be reproduced. And in time, smaller, simpler versions of the now pony sisters walked the rugged land and nibbled the sparse vegetation that Celestia developed from her visions of beyond. The smaller ponies had eyes, and ears, and tails and hooves, and those hooves pounded the land as they galloped.

Peridot Cabochon galloped now, her hooves pounding not land but marble, as she ran toward the window at the end of the hall. Her pony eyes were half blinded by tears, her pony heart blinded by anguish. Her colt despised her, and she despised herself.

When Sloane Cameron had first become Peridot, when she had been remedially ponified by the nocturnal princess Luna, she had taken her first steps in confusion. Raw emotions flooded her, emotions she had spent an entire human lifetime learning to repress and ignore. One did not get ahead within the Good Families by being sentimental. Feelings were the first casualty of the war for position and power in the real world, and they were a sacrifice Sloane had been more than willing to make.

But pony Sloane, Peridot, found herself in a new war, now that human power was forever lost to her. The war was within herself, and unlike the vast majority of newfoals, she did not welcome the overwhelming compassion and innocence that now dominated her new brain. She didn't understand it. She had never been allowed to experience it before, and its alienness terrified her. She resorted to her familiar tactics, and fought the strangeness as best she could.

It was a losing battle, and she lost ground every day. In the end, cold indifference gave way in heaving sobs to the realization of what she had thrown away as a human, and endless regret over it all.

Now, glad of her feelings, Peridot Cabochon was left with another problem - she had no idea how to express the tender and loving good within her.

On that first day after her ponification, Peridot had a terrifying night of realization. Her plans to spend her newly gained three-hundred birthdays began to crumble. It was her design to gradually take over the Equestrian court. She planned to start a new, pony version of the Good Families - with her at the top, of course. Even on that very first night, her goals had ceased having any value to her. She had fled the Human Masada after the 'guns and bacon' incident, driven by ambition and vengeance, but now this motivation was fading.

Now, on the other side of the species barrier, the former Sloane Cameron had suddenly found empire building unappealing, and vengeance undesirable. Neither served kindness, neither would increase happiness for all, or demonstrate empathy. Indeed, such drives were the opposite of everything that now filled her heart.

Peridot had rolled on her bed, unable to sleep, desperate to understand who she had become, and what mattered to this new creature that cared about others, and desired harmony above domination. One thing came back to her, over and over during her dark night - Milo. Her colt. Her one and only colt, her little foal, her beloved Milo.

The thought shocked her. Beloved. As a human, she had not permitted herself to feel love. Now it burned within her like a hot coal. To love anything or anyone amongst the perpetually struggling Good Families was to be weak - to be vulnerable to emotional extortion, or manipulation, or destruction.

Milo. She loved her colt. She always had, though she had never once shown it or admitted it. With that absolute certainty came an absolute shame - he must have felt so terribly rejected. As hard as she could try, Peridot was unable to remember a single time she had ever embraced her child. She wasn't sure if she had held him even once after he had been born.

She had passed the years, waiting for her injured Milo to be remade, to be fixed, to be transformed. It was what she lived for. She would be there, she would make it right. She would be the mother to her colt she always should have been. She fixed in her mind the moment - Milo would arise, as a newly made pony, and he would run to her, crying out her name.

Unless. Unless he rightfully resented her for the past. He might see through her, see that her love had only been revealed by her own selfish escape from the Masada, and not from any concern on her part. He might see that she hadn't been ponified for him, but for another cunning and destructive plot.

And that is precisely what had happened. Milo had not run to her. He had not cried out her name. He had looked upon her with the loathing she deserved. The loathing she had earned with years of neglect and emotional distance. Peridot's hooves slammed into the marble. The window was there, just ahead. She would crash through it, and crash out of her poor Milo's life. It was the only thing she could do now. She could end his disgust, end his grief, and leave him free to enjoy a new mother without any emotional connection to her. It would be the only decent thing she had ever done for her little foal...

Peridot leaped. She arced through the air, her powerful hind legs launching her at the middle of the great glass window. There would be a huge smash, and a long, long fall, and then Milo would be free of her. The cut would be clean, neat, tidy, and she would have paid for her faults with her very life. Everything tied up. Everything square.

The window fogged from her breath.

Outside, a constellation of pegasai flew past, chasing an enchanted ball. It was some aerial game. Milo was a pegasus now, perhaps one day he would laugh in delight, pursuing just such a ball.

The window wasn't getting any nearer. If anything, it seemed to be receding, faster and faster.

Peridot noticed that her vision was cloudy. Everything seemed bleached out by a silvern glow. As she curled her body in mid air, she noticed that her forelegs were coated in light. The window shrank further and further away, as the hallway rushed past her. She was being levitated backwards, against her will. She struggled, briefly, then relaxed. There was nothing to do. She was helpless, held suspended in space by a powerful telekinetic field.

Princess Luna carefully set Peridot Cabochon down on the marble floor. The green unicorn did not bother to rise, or to run again. She just stared at the floor, her hind legs sprawled out, her forelegs supporting her slumping body.

"We are confounded by the steel of thy desperate and undesirable resolve. There is no admiration within us, but lives there instead surprise that thou wast able to overcome all compassion for thine living body in thy mad rush to extinguish life's blazing flame." The princess did indeed seem surprised. Ponies never attempted suicide, and the Equestrian language lacked even a word for the concept.

"We can only surmise that some unfortunate selfishness hast remained despite thy most careful transformation. Mayhap we have overlooked some aspect of thy head meats and are ourselves at fault for thy action." Luna's expression turned from shock to sadness as her horn once again blazed forth with light, a silver glow echoed by a similar radiance encompassing Peridot's head. Finally, the princess ceased her work, and shook her mane.

"Peridot Cabochon, thou art lost on the river of thine owne emotion, and see not the rocks and falls as thee dost navigate thyself. We do command thee never again to wallow in such selfish escape, and to this end, we have signed our rule in writ made flesh."

The green unicorn looked up. She didn't feel any different, but neither did she doubt the princess.

Luna turned to Milo. "Newmade Colt, attend us well. We have cantered through thy mother's thought and soul, and in her heart there is naught but the greatest love for thee, howsoever faulty her expression of it. She would to embrace thee as all that was precious, and ne'er have thee distant be again. We pronounce this unto thee as unquestionable truth. Thy anger and grief is now void and without meaning, for thy mother sits thus, consumed only with fear that thee lovest her not in return."

The princess of the night lowered her head and stared into Milo's new pony eyes. She pressed her head closer still, and only Milo's pointed ear caught Luna's faint whisper. "She loves you. Go hug her. Now."

What neither Milo nor anypony else caught was the noctural diarch's personal aside. "Newfoals...!"

Milo stepped unsteadily to where his mother sprawled on the marble. Without any word, he sat his hindquarters down, and then carefully wrapped his forelegs around the grass-green unicorn. Peridot began to sob, and then to wail, as she threw herself, as best she could, at her child in return. The two, colt and mother, held each other tight, both heaving with tears of regret, relief, and joy.

Crimson, Morning and Plantain felt themselves overcome as well, and pressed together in pony comfort. For a time the hallway was sniffles and tears all around, at the shocking crisis that had been averted.

Only Luna noticed when the last flash of golden light signified that her sister had finished the transformation of Sergey Brin. As the ponies in the hall drew together in hugs and glad words, Swiftwind and the new stallion that was his father, emerged from the Waiting Room.

Sergey walked stiffly on his four new legs, occasionally supported by the presence of his son. "I can't believe it. I'm still me. I'm still me... I feel like me, only I'm a pony, and it's okay, it's alright. I think I'm me. I must be me. I'm still me!"

Swiftwind shook his head, but stayed close and caught his dad with his strong back whenever his wobbly father seemed to falter. His father truly loved him. His dad was there, and would always be there. But Swiftwind knew, that despite his father's relieved words, that Sergey Brin was not entirely the same. Never again would he beat his son, he would never again harm him, or hurt him, or knowingly break bone or skin. In this way, Sergey was forever changed, and it was a difference Swiftwind could only feel the greatest gratitude for.

Milo sniffed and wiped his nostrils on his foreleg, matting his coat. "Mom?"

Peridot, her forelegs wrapped tightly around her son, nuzzled him. She sniffed back her own tears. "Yes?"

"I don't understand. Was there something wrong with you? Did princess Luna fix it?" The little pegasus reveled in finally being held.

"There... there was something wrong with me, but it had nothing to do with the princess." Peridot briefly groomed her son's poll with her teeth, his mane was a mess. "When we were... when I was part of the Good Families, I cared more about them, than you. It was like... I guess I was broken, inside."

"But you're okay now?" Milo suddenly looked less like a colt, and more like a foal in the moment. Peridot, for the first time, could feel her child's insecurity, and comprehend what it meant.

"I think I finally am." She squeezed Milo tight. "From now on, the only 'good family' that matters to me, is us."

For all of his years, a moment like this was all Milo had ever truly wanted. Just to feel he was the least bit important to his mother. Just to feel loved at all. Now that it had come, it was almost more than he could bear, and Milo was forced to let out his emotion again. Finally his tears stopped. He clung for a while, eyes blurry, unwilling to let go because he feared the moment would end and never come again.

"It's all right, Milo. It'll be alright from now on." Peridot pulled away with difficulty, and stood up. "Come on, we need to get going. Everypony's leaving."

As Milo stood, he saw that the princesses had already gone, and that the head maid, Lime, was explaining something to Asher - 'Swiftwind' - and his father. Petra, Seraph... Crimson, Morning and Plantain were talking with each other, and it was clear that it had become time to go somewhere else.

"Mom?" Milo pressed his body into his mother as they walked, he felt like he couldn't get enough of finally being able to be close to her. He felt as if he had been hungry, starving, for years and years, and was being fed at last. "I'm gonna need a new name."

Peridot, struggling to not stumble, laughed. "What do you want to be called?"

Milo buried his head in his mother's barrel, forcing her to stop altogether. "Noooo. I want you to name me." Milo sniffled again. "Because you're my mom." He spoke the word 'mom' as if it were a sacrament.

The intensity of that weighed on Peridot. She was his whole world, and for the first time she realized that fact. Earth, Equestria - any world or cosmos - a child needed their mother. That was truly universal. "I'll need to think about it then. I want to pick a good one. Something you can be proud of."

Milo cried again, as they caught up with the others.

The moon blazed through the windows as Lime Sherbet finally got the growing troupe of newfoal guests settled. The three fillies, of course, wanted to share a room. They were the best of friends and naturally wanted to be together. Swiftwind and his father were given the room beside the three fillies. Across the hall, Lime placed Milo and his mother Peridot.

Crimson, Plantain and Morning Star wondered if they could have tea again, like last year. Lime sent Gelato off to bring a cart with tea and cakes for all of the newfoals. Thinking further, she had Gelato also bring some bowls of what was left of the Thai coconut hay and rosehips from dinner. Newfoals tended to be hungry after their transformations, and it was likely that Swiftwind, mister Brin and Milo would all enjoy something more substantial to eat.

That was one of the many things that had made Lime the head of the maid staff at Canterlot - anticipating needs before guests even realized they lacked something. It wasn't that difficult, Lime often thought. You just had to pay attention, and care for the happiness of others. What modest Lime didn't realize, was that she was truly exceptional at both.

When Gelato returned with the silver cart, Lime found she hadn't been wrong about the needs of the newly transformed guests.

"Oh...mnn.... this... this is fantastic. I couldn't even think of trying this a few hours ago but now... Mnn Mnf... thank you, by the way. Very thoughtful!" Sergey Brin was utterly lost now, awkwardly pushing his bowl of Thai-styled hay around the room, chasing it into a corner, gobbling the entire time like a hungry dog. The brown and white newly formed earthpony was lost in gustatory ecstasy, unthinkingly reenacting the first and oldest Bureau tradition - the First Meal As A Pony.

Swiftwind giggled at his father's unconsciously wagging tail. "I think he likes it."

"Here." Lime used her hornfield to set a bowl on the floor of the room and then floated a pitcher over to fill it with water. It was very clear that mister Brin had not yet learned how to use his new body. It was only kindness to make things easy for him. "He'll probably be thirsty after he finishes licking that bowl clean. Here's some nice water, easy to reach."

"Dad's kind of... he's not used to..." Swiftwind felt momentarily embarrassed by his father's clumsy, pet-like behavior.

"Stuff and nonsense. You have to stand, before you can trot." Lime smiled warmly at the blue colt. "I can't imagine how hard it must be to have to learn everything over again like a newborn foal. Be proud of your father. Help him. He's here for you, after all."

Lime had heard about all of the various intrigues and circumstances of these guests, of course. It was part of being the welcoming hooves of Canterlot Castle. Every guest had a story, and that story determined what they needed to feel comfortable and content. Lime liked nothing better than to know every guest of the princesses had just what they needed, right when they needed it.

Before she left, Lime made sure a second bowl of Thai hay and a large pitcher of water, and a second pitcher of melonade was set on the low table in the room. Sure enough, as she turned to leave, she spied Swiftwind stuffing his muzzle into the bowl, just as hungry as his father. The door closed, a bang and a rattle suggested that the little unicorn was likely chasing his own bowl across the floor just like his father, equally lost in the overwhelming savor of his new pony senses.

The three fillies barely noticed Lime when she entered to serve them tea and cakes. They were such good friends that it made Sherbet smile. The warm camaraderie reminded her of her own two closest compatriots, and their adventures together. Crimson, Plantain and Morning Star were heatedly discussing the events of the day, and plotting out likely futures for the two boys and their parents.

As Lime quietly closed the door, she heard Crimson Beauty - ever the proper one, that filly - call out. "Thank you kindly!"

Lime smiled at that. Crimson had turned out to be every bit as nice as her statue had seemed.

At Ms. Cabochon's room, Lime found Peridot with a hoof to her muzzle. Her little colt was sleeping, exhausted from too much emotion, and now filled with long desired contentment. The dark purple pegasus was curled up, his head using his mother's belly as a pillow, his back tucked into her flanks, pressed as tight and close as he could manage.

Lime was very quiet as she brought in another big bowl of leftover Thai hay and also some cakes and tea. Cabochon nodded and smiled at that. Being a unicorn, she could enjoy them without having to move and so disturb her child. Lime set down a pitcher of water and another of melonade as well, and then carefully left mother and sleeping colt to their intimate peace.

They would all leave tomorrow, but the troupe would be back again at least once more. Two statues remained in the Waiting Room, the years passing them by until the calendar permitted them a return to life. They were all like chrysalises, waiting to become butterflies.

Or perhaps pegasai, Lime thought, and giggled at the notion.

Plantain Acres crept carefully out of her bed, and moved quietly to the doorway. It had taken half the night, but finally her friends were asleep. Using her mouth, she slowly opened the door just enough to slip through. Once she was outside, she made sure the door was shut without a sound.

For six years Plantain had waited on her dreams. It was said that Luna walked in dreams, and within them could be met. As Celestia was the sun, bringing new dawns to the world, so Luna was the moon, attending night and the end of every day.

It was said that Luna guided the souls of the dead to whatever awaited them after.

Not for a moment had Plantain ceased missing her dearest lapine friend. Crème Bûnnée had been her closest companion, her teacher, her true friend, and in the end, her savior. Crème's absence gnawed at Plantain, chewing at her soul, breaking her heart. She tried to smile. She tried to be a good sister to Crimson, and a good friend to Morning Star, but... she always felt melancholy. She wasn't the same pony she once was, because her other half was gone.

This time, her hurt was greater than any fear. Luna was mysterious, and she spoke in ancient words. On Nightmare Night, she was terrifying - and thrilling. Few dared to bother her at any time. But Plantain Acres could bear no more. If the princess of dreams would not come to her in sleep, then she would go to the princess in the waking world.

Plantain stepped cautiously down the marble corridors. Though she strived for quietness, still her hooves made tiny clicks against the stone floor. Section after section, hall after hall, Plantain worked her way towards the part of the castle that Luna inhabited.

She had overheard that after raising the moon, the princess tended to retire to her quarters. Sometimes she could be found on a large balcony nearby, rearranging the stars. Occasionally, she was entirely absent, on some mysterious purpose of her own. Plantain hoped that luck would be with her upon this night, and that she would find the princess alone.

Luna's tower was across a large stone bridge which arched over an impossible drop to keeps and halls below. Plantain nervously ambled forward, darkness below and stars above. The moonlight made a fairy ribbon of the bridge and porcelain teeth of the other towers and spires. Halfway across the deserted bridge a breeze surprised Plantain by ruffling her mane. She looked around for the pegasus that must have caused it, but the night was lonely, and nothing flew in the sky.

Dark lanterns hung on both sides of the heavily embellished door. There were no guards, either, which struck Plantain as very strange. The royal guard was everywhere in the castle, standing proud in ancient armor. The lanterns were bright all through her trek until this point. Plantain felt the stone railing to make sure she wasn't dreaming. It felt solid.

The moonlight revealed the great tower doors were partially open. Images of Thestrals - bat winged ponies - flew through a carved, star-filled sky upon the door. A carved moon had been gilt with silver, and silver had been used to make the carved stars shine.

Beyond the massive doors, only darkness waited. Plantain stood, gathering her courage, before pressing on.

The darkness was profound. Plantain, only two or three hoofsteps in, found she could see nothing ahead. No window cast moonlight to guide her hoof falls, and no trail of light led from the tiny breach between the nearly shut doors. Plantain turned her head to look back over her flanks to see any light at all, and found no sign of the doorway whatsoever.

Carefully, the little earthpony turned her body entirely around, and blindly moved forward, sweeping her forehooves in an arc with each step. After her eighth or ninth hoofstep, she realized that she should have already met the other side of the barely open doors. Five more cautious, sweeping steps made her certain. There was no wall, and there was no longer any door.

Plantain sat down where she was, afraid and confused. She also felt guilty, for she had gone without permission into the private tower of the princess of the night. Plantain had no idea how to leave wherever she now was, or what she had gotten herself into.

In the absolute darkness, Plantain lightly tapped the floor with her hoof, in the thought that small, sharp echoes might indicate the size of the chamber, or even provide a clue to the presence of a wall. Plantain's hoof squished into sand instead of hard marble, and this alarmed her greatly.

All around her, as far as the poke or prod of her forehooves could tell, was sand. She was sitting on sand, the floor somehow absent or changed. The smell of water touched her sensitive nose, as her ears began to hear the sound of lapping waves.

Plantain's heart beat quickly now, for this was nothing ordinary in her experience, but was clearly some great and terrible magic at work. Possibilities raced through her mind. Could she have been teleported somehow, to some dungeon for her trespass? No... there was no smell of old stone or moss. The water smelled clean and fresh and pure. The sand was like that of a beach, not grit over dungeon stone.

Was it a dream, then, after all? The pain of her own bite just above her left pastern strongly argued that she must be awake. Plantain looked up, to see any hope of light or stars, but the same everpresent blackness confounded her vision in all directions.

Splish.

The sound was distant, but it was unmistakably wet.

Ploosh.

Plantain's pony ears rotated and locked onto the source of the sound, triangulating it. The sounds were ahead and to the left, and they were growing closer.

Splish. Sploosh. Splish. Splosh.

It sounded almost familiar. Like some object being dipped in water, over and over. Plantain's pony nose picked up the faint whiff of wet wood. Wet wood and... and an animal scent. An oh, so familiar animal scent. Tears began to roll down Plantain's cheeks. The scent was unmistakable. It was the scent of a bunny. A very special bunny, one that was part creature from the Everfree. Part Snow Bunny. Crème.

The mane that ran down her withers began to stand up, a tingle of fear and awe down her neck and back.

Splish. Ploosh. Splup.

The paddling had stopped, not more than eighteen hooves from where Plantain sat in darkness on some impossible shore. The smell of wooden boat and paddle blended with the almost overpowering familiar scent of her lost friend.

"Crème?" Plantain's voice quivered in the dark. "Is... is that you?"

Plish.

It was a small sound, not a paddle this time, but a paw. Plantain had heard it before, when her lapine other half had played with the water during many a bath. During play in the pond just beyond the plantation weather zone. That time in the vast crystal fountain in Leviathania when the show had performed for dragons.

"Crème... oh Crème!" Plantain was crying now, her fear almost replaced by grief and loss. "Do you need help? Are you in danger or trouble or..." Plantain wasn't sure what she was saying, because she had no idea what was exactly going on. All she knew was that the darkness was frightening, and this encounter was beyond her understanding.

Ploop, Ploop.

"Are you... okay?" Plantain leaned into the dark, ears focused on the exact source of the sounds.

Plish.

Why was there no light? Plantain yearned to see her friend. She could smell Crème clearly, precisely, that dear and beloved scent, strong and bright and so alive, right there, just a short space away.

Plantain began to rise to her hooves. If she could just touch Crème, if she could just get to her...

Ploop! Ploop! Ploosh! Plish! Ploop! Ploop! Plip!

The splashing was furious, desperate. Plantain froze, half standing, half sitting, her weight on her forelegs.

"Crème?" The splashing stopped. "Should I stay where I am?"

Plish.

Carefully, slowly, Plantain sat down fully once more. Just to be certain, she decided to confirm it. "I should stay here, right here, is that correct?"

Plish.

Plantain stared into the darkness, her useless eyes trained on the exact place that her ears and nose told her was where Crème sat in a tiny boat.

"Crème... Crème... you saved us, Crème. You nearly saved us all. We lost Hamton and Cutler and... some of the others... but they told the princesses where we are. They put a stop to the humans using pigs and chickens for meat. All the human children made it, and they are nearly all ponies now. Only Oliver and Isla are left, and they'll have their chance a few years from now. You saved... you saved me, Crème. You saved my life." Plantain let out a sob, she couldn't hold the tears back.

Plish.

Plantain wanted to jump up, to run to the smell of her bunny friend, but something inside her kept her still. Plantain felt no evil, no wrong from this, but she did feel a danger, as if she stood on the edge of a cliff, beyond which there was no returning.

"I miss you. I miss you so very much! I miss you every day, every single day. I miss you at breakfast, and I still look to see you there, but you aren't and... and..."

Ploosh, Plip, Plip, Plish!

Plantain wiped her eyes and nose with her foreleg. "I know. I know. I'm trying. I really am. Crimson - that's Petra, she's an earthpony now, just like me - Crimson is my sister now! Did you know that? I have a sister now!"

Plish.

"I can't... you can't come back with me, can you?

Plish.

"I don't like the idea of you being in this dark place, Crème! I don't understand this! I want to rescue you, I want to have you back, I want..."

New smells and sounds filled Plantain's nose, overwhelming her. They came like an assault, strong in the dark, with her attention so focused. The smell of berries and clover and warm summer grasses. Pies and cakes and... bunny laughter. Tiny squeaks and yeeps of joy and playfulness. The sort of sounds that Crème made when she was happy, only they were many and varied.

Plantain could hear bunny feet scampering and jumping and running about. And music, strange, otherworldly music, beautiful beyond anything she had ever heard before. It was a party, a celebration, and there were bunnies everywhere, more than her nose or ears could count.

And the hint of other smells, in the dark, farther away. Pig scents and chickens... and ponies.

"You're... you're alright, then."

Plish.

"Whatever is going on... it sounds like fun. Are you happy, Crème? It isn't bad? It's good?"

Plish.

For a while, relief streamed out of Plantain's eyes, down her cheeks onto the hard marble floor. Plantain set down the leg she was using to wipe her eyes with and a resounding 'clop' filled her ears. It echoed off of wall and ceiling.

Plantain looked around. Soft moonlight streamed through open windows, bathing the tower entrance chamber in silvery light. The marble tiles checkerboarded underneath the carpet that ran into the interior of the princess's tower. Low sofas and tables gleamed in the evening glow, and Plantain could make out the frames of ancient paintings on the walls around her.

Carefully, the little chestnut earthpony raised herself to her hooves and turned slowly around in the silence. The huge double doors were slightly open, just a crack, just enough for her to delicately, quietly exit.

In the light of the moon and stars, the stone bridge led away, back to the grand halls and keeps of the rest of the castle. Plantain took first one step, and then another, as she moved as quietly as she could away from the mysterious tower of the night princess.

When she reached the middle of the bridge, her left hoof pressed upon something that wasn't stone. Plantain looked down and slowly lifted her hoof.

There, in the center of the bridge, thousands of hooves above any garden or soil, was a single, white, Equestrian clover flower.

Plantain stared at it, laying there, on the stonework, flattened by her hoof. Plantain lowered her head to the stone, and the green, sweet smell filled her nostrils. Carefully, she picked the blossom up with her teeth, and raised her head. Reaching back, curving her long neck, she worked the flower into the pocket of her topcoat.

The mane on her withers rose again, as a tingle rippled down her neck and back. Plantain took one brief glance back toward the tower of the princess of the night, and saw the doors were tightly shut. The firefly lanterns blazed to each side of the doors.

Quickly, without heed to the sound of hooves, Plantain galloped back into the castle, and did not stop until she was behind the door to her room, and snuggled tightly into bed beside her grumbling, sleepy sister.

14. The Dust Of Four Years

The Conversion Bureau

HUMAN

in Equestria
By Chatoyance

The Dust Of Four Years

Lime Sherbet is used with the permission by the superb author Gabriel LaVedier, from the excellent Dames Of The Tea Table, which you should read because it is wonderful.

Every day, just after princess Celestia set her bright sun, and princess Luna caused the stars to show and the moon to rise into the sky, Lime Sherbet entered the Waiting Room.

There were only two statues left, the little human filly which Lime had learned was called 'Isla' and the larger human filly-to-be who was called 'Oliver'. The larger held the smaller up, over its head, trying, apparently, to save the little human filly without regard to itself. The frost had taken most of poor Oliver's lower body, such that the creature would begin to die the second it was released from stone.

But of course, the princesses would not allow that to happen. Not so long as the courageous human child agreed to allow itself to be helped.

Lime, as she dusted the double statue, wondered at the pair. The little filly, up so high, had such an expression of gratitude and horror. She had been aware, in that moment, of just what her friend was doing for her. And her friend? The stone expression was not one of horror or fear. Just selfless determination.

When Celestia had announced, so many years ago now, that she was going to allow refugees into Equestria, it had caused quite a stir. Everypony knew the story of the griffons, and of the trouble they had caused when they had been allowed to stay. The diamond dogs, when they found their way to Equestria from beyond, had begun their lives with the death of an innocent pony. And the dragons - most ponies tried not to think overly much about the dragons.

Celestia had a habit of rescuing the dying and the doomed, and in the past this had resulted in great tragedy until things had finally been worked out. The Pax Equestria now kept the four great races - pony, dog, griffon and dragon - at peace. But there had not always been peace, and those difficult times had cost countless pony lives.

Many had objected, openly or in quiet, to allowing the 'humans' in. The arguments had raged through the royal court. It would be like the griffons, some said. It would be the dogs all over again, others claimed. It could be another draconic-level situation, some whispered.

Celestia had said three things to all of this.

The humans were dying. Their world could survive for only three more generations, and then their entire kind would perish, forever.

She had promised the humans, in exchange for her very life, that she would rescue them.

This time it would be different. These refugees would not come as strange monsters, but as ponies just like anypony, anywhere. They would not kill, like the griffons and the dogs and the dragons. They would not try to conquer, like the griffons and the dragons. They would not steal or enslave, like the dogs and the dragons. They would not harm a single pony, because they would become ponies themselves.

And though it would be difficult, there would be benefits. The humans were clever, and imaginative. They had new songs and new stories and new foods and ways of preparing them. In becoming ponies, they would allow all ponykind to vastly outnumber the dogs, and the griffons, and the dragons, which would safeguard pony interests within the universe.

But still there were complaints. The humans had destroyed their own world. They were greedy, and violent, and dangerous. These things might be cured by ponification, but why help them at all?

Celestia had said one thing to that.

The humans could not help themselves, because they were the product of an uncaring, deadly cosmos. But even so, despite this, they were capable of the most astonishing love, the most powerful devotion, the most magnificent self-sacrifice, and the most enduring friendships. Despite living in a nightmare, they often tried their best to be more than what they were.

Lime studied the two figures. The larger filly had known she would die, that the frost would take her, but she had lifted her little friend up over her head. She had stopped running, so that she would not slip, so that she would not drop her smaller friend. Lime tried to picture the moment... the little human creature realizing that there was no way to outrun the killing cold. Standing its ground, grabbing the little filly and lifting her, protesting, up over its head. Thinking only of her friend's survival, knowing that she herself was doomed.

And the humans did not experience death the way Equestrians did. For them, the end was... truly the end.

Lime tried to encompass what it would be like, as a foal, to make so dire a decision, to actually do such a thing.

She thought of Crimson, and Morning Star, and the other newfoals she had met. No, it hadn't been at all like the dragons or the griffons or the diamond dogs this time. These strange, thin, flat muzzled aliens deserved a second chance.

As she left the Waiting Room, the dusting done, she hummed a tune that she had once heard. Princess Luna had taken her and a mutual friend to see a show put on by newfoals. They had sat in a balcony, covered in dark cloaks, sipping tea. The newfoals had brought many good things to Equestria. Their foods, their artwork, their stories, and of course, their wonderful and clever songs.

"Mairzy doats and dozy doats
And liddle lamzy divey
A kiddley divey too, wouldn't you?
Yes! Mairzy doats and dozy doats
and liddle lamzy divey
A kiddley divey too, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, I suppose I would. Alehoof ivy is tasty, especially with garlic." Lime made her way down the hall. "Oh, pudding. Now I feel hungry again!"

Stefan Bettencourt went over the numbers. He noted the little splotch of ink that covered part of the column that listed the number of families reduced in rank to servants. Quill pens were still a problem for Bertarelli. Roman was the only man Bettencourt trusted to handle such matters, but even after thirteen years, he still couldn't get the hang of using quill pens.

"Roman. How many children are left?" Another splash of ink obscured that number, and Stefan couldn't help but wonder if this particular accident was entirely accidental.

Bertarelli's expression was grim. "Thirty-six."

"Out of eighty-seven human children, only thirty-six remain?" Stefan scowled at the thought. Since that first year, when his own daughter had run off with five other children, the story of their escape to ponydom had led to attempt after attempt. With the new ruling that came from the 'guns and bacon' incident, any human that left the walls of the Masada was legally subject to immediate ponification.

Any child that could breach the walls could be assured of safely becoming a pony by bedtime. The princesses would not permit another tragedy, and adult humans had been declared untrustworthy and above all, a traitorous danger to the court. Which, honestly, they would have been, if their scheme hadn't been rumbled by the ghost of a goddamned dead pig.

Forty-five children had followed his rebel daughter Petra. Somehow they managed to get outside. Stefan suspected - no, he felt certain - that the escaping children were getting assistance from beyond. Mysterious breaches in the walls just large enough for a child to crawl through. A mysterious climbing ivy that had grown overnight, providing an organic ladder over the barricade. A tunnel under the wall that was suspiciously safe and well dug.

Worst of all, most of the time, the parents and other family members followed. They willingly left the gates and went pony to be with their children. Half of the new servant class had run away in just such a manner. Of the over three hundred Good Families, less than eighty now remained in the Human Masada. There could be no more new children, and everyone knew it. Bettencourt sank his head into his hands, his elbows on the desk.

It was already over. He had tried. He had tried to keep the true humanity, the ruling class in power, and to keep them human, but he had failed. The children couldn't understand that there was something more important than mere happiness, exceptionally long and comfortable lives, endless plenty and life in a beautiful magical wonderland. Children couldn't understand the value of real power. They couldn't comprehend the majesty of being a true human being whatever the cost.

What hurt Stefan the most, though, was that apparently those he once called the ruling class, adults, had willingly joined their wayward children. The biggest shock of all had been Brin's defection. For a mere child. That moment when Sergey had invoked Section Six, trying to get Celestia to ponify his mortally injured child... Stefan still had not recovered from that betrayal. When Brin had fought his way outside the gates, after the ruling, Bettencourt had not been the least bit surprised.

Hurt, yes. Angry, yes. But not surprised.

The Good Families were becoming peasants, mere rabble, the lot of them. Once their ancestors had been kings and pirates, robber barons and empire builders. Now, most had fled, seduced by the small desires of the weak - pastoral plenty, beauty and friendship, a life of magic and pleasure. They were mere animals, no better than the corporate wage slaves that once they had owned the lives of.

"Enough, Roman. Enough." Bettencourt's head ached. The writing was not on Bertarelli's sheets, but on the wall. The Masada was dissolving, fading, ending. He, Stefan Bettencourt, had held the entire population of earth hostage to secure the special treatment that now his ruling elite were throwing aside. What had it all been for, he wondered? All the wars of conquest, both economic and physical? All the work to make the earth their own private farm, with billions of peasants to work it? Centuries of striving to become the de facto kings and queens of the planet?

But there was no planet, now. "Go. Just... go."

Roman Bertarelli left, shaking his head. He quietly closed the door behind him.

Bettencourt sat, alone in the Muleskinner, staring through the windows at an alien, magical moon. In time, they would all leave. There was no way to stop them. Future ponies, the lot of them. Even Roman, that old bastard. But not him. Not Stefan Bettencourt. "I won't." He didn't know if the lunar princess could hear him, but he spoke out loud anyway. "I say no. In this world, your world, you would call me a monster, wouldn't you?" Of course there was no answer.

"I won't be a peasant. I would rather rule in hell, than serve in heaven. Milton was right. If I am the last human man, I will not settle for less than my proper place." Bettencourt's face grew red.

"I AM THE CHIEF EXECUTIVE OFFICER OF MANKIND!" Stefan panted, out of breath. "I am the god-damned chief executive officer... of all mankind..." The moon shone down, implacable, uncaring. "I... I am a big... deal. A big, god damned deal."

Just to the right of the moon, Stefan noticed a pattern in the stars. It was a smiley face, the sort once popular on the hypernet, long ago. Luna must have arranged the stars that way to give any night watchers a gentle laugh.

Even the cursed sky of this place mocked him.

Purple, shimmering wings carved the air into a sculpture of flight. The young pegasus colt carefully circled the apartment tower, until the third level balcony came into view. Conscious of his saddlebags, he flapped to gentle landing beside the large ceramic planter overflowing with mallow and clover. "MOoooommm! I'm hooommme!"

Peridot set her quill back into the ink pot, and withdrew her telekinetic field. She had been laying out, in thaumatic script, the parameters of a focusing spell that could be used in the thaumatic microscope project. The effort had widened to the development of a tool that non-unicorns could use. The new version of the microscope used a Bevelmeiter tube to magically drive a mental link that any pony could tap into. In theory, pegasai and earthponies could use the device even without a unicorn being present. The focusing spell would permit such ponies to zoom in, or out of whatever they were studying.

It had been two years now, working on the microscope, since her son had been brought back to life. Things moved slowly in Equestria, but then they didn't need to move quickly. Entropy held no court of dire judgement here, there were no terrible droughts or freezes or crop failures to fear, and all the predators of any real danger had signed the Pax Equestria and were now friends. Pushing for progress was the game of desperate aliens from dying worlds. That, and ancient, grumpy unicorns like Peridot's supervisor.

It was Peridot's wish that her child might one day see what she saw, without needing her help. Beyond that, medicine and research were not the province of unicorns alone. There were many earthponies and pegasai in all fields, and if earthponies in particular could be given the mystical perception of unicorns, the benefits to all ponykind could be fantastic.

"Oh... I didn't get to see you land!" Peridot took a great deal of pride in her colt's flying ability. He was having some trouble learning advanced flying, but he had proved exceptional at the basics. His landings were exceedingly good, well controlled, and almost silent. Peridot loved simply to watch her child land. It looked so effortless and splendid.

"I guess I can take a turn around the tower and do it again, if you really want." His tone did not suggest that this was something he was very enthusiastic about doing.

"No, no. It's all right. Momma's just..." Sometimes Peridot's voice would catch when she said that. Momma. The only thing that made her more proud and happy in her new life than her thaumatechnical work, was knowing that she mattered to her son. "Momma just loves to see you fly. It's pretty amazing, you know."

Peridot hugged her colt tight, with her neck, and then pulled back. "How was school today?"

Shinden Cabochon - his name meant 'magnificient lightning' and was taken from some ancient experimental plane his mother liked - wiggled free from his saddlebags and headed toward the kitchen. "I still can't do that thing where you go up, roll over, and swoop down."

"Immelmann turn?" Peridot followed her son, lifting his saddlebags with her hornfield and setting them on the hook by the door in passing.

"No." Shinden finished pouring a glass of spiced cider and replugged the keg. He took a sip. "Well...yes, but that's the human term for it. It's really called a... um... Nimbuswing Maneuver." Mom was always using alien words for stuff. It was confusing sometimes, especially when he kept forgetting the correct terms.

"Of course." Peridot's ears briefly fell, then lifted. "Nimbuswing. Sorry." There was so much to learn - and unlearn - for both of them. "I was thinking we could go out tonight. I've got a lot to do on my project for tomorrow, and... well, cooking takes a long time. Is that okay?" Peridot enjoyed cooking, and it made her feel happy when Shin liked the food she made, but her project nagged at her.

Shinden seemed excited at the thought. "Pizza! Can we get pizza? Pleeeese? Pizza? Mom?"

Peridot sighed. Ever since the new pizza restaurant had opened on the first tier, it had drawn her son like a magnet. Him... and a lot of the population of Canterlot City. There was always a line to get in. Earth cuisine had become trendy of late. "Shin... there's always a line... the whole reason for going out is so that..."

That look. Oh, sweet Luna, protector of foals - and fools. "PLEEEEEEZZZEEE????"

Sedulous The Incontinent would make that 'harrumphing' sound at her tomorrow. She'd get dirty glares from him until lunch time, which usually cheered the ancient unicorn up. But that look... that look on her Shinden's muzzle!

Her heart melted... like four different cheeses under six kinds of vegetables. "Yes... we can do pizza. Again."

"YAY!!!" Shinden ran out of the kitchen, straight for the balcony. "Just for you mom!"

With a flap of graceful purple, the young pegasus was in the air, already beginning a circle around the entire apartment tower.

Peridot went to the balcony entrance, and looked out over Canterlot. She laughed to herself. The microscope could wait. It wasn't like getting her work done tonight made any real difference. Sedulous was just fussy. What did matter was hearing about her son's day over his favorite food, and being allowed that precious, irrecoverable moment with him, before he grew up and no longer needed her the same way anymore.

She had almost three hundred years to finish that microscope. But childhood was short, and it only happened once. Peridot had almost thrown the gift of being Shinden's mother away, back when he was 'Milo'. Nothing in all of Equestria could make her want to throw it away twice.

She kept herself from showing it, but she almost started to cry when Shinden came to a perfect, gentle, utterly controlled landing. She felt so proud. "That... that was really good, son. Thank you for letting me see." Peridot turned and sniffed, briefly. "Go get your flight manual. We can go over the... Nimbuswing Maneuver at dinner. Maybe I can help."

"MOOOooommmm!" This was not the completely free-from-responsibility night Shinden had been hoping for.

"Ponies who get pizza three nights this month are ponies that also get good grades." Peridot loved indulging her son, but there was a limit. "No arguing now."

"Aw... Snickerdoodles." Shinden stomped to his saddlebags, on the hook by the door. He rooted around in the right bag with his muzzle until he pulled out his flight book. It was the one that smelled like cheese. He'd taken it to the pizza parlor before. "I goth ith!"

"Tell you what." Peridot grabbed her own saddlebags, the light, fashionable ones. "IF you can recite the Stall Proceedure, without looking at the book - the whole thing now - we'll go get ice cream after." Peridot watched as her colt tucked his flight manual under a wing.

They headed for the long, spiral ramp down. "Um... 'When your feathers fail, and you start to fall, that is what is called a STALL!" Mother and son began the trek down the tower. Without a thought, the door was left wide open. It was Equestria.

"Good," Peridot smiled at her son. "But not ice cream good. Next line?"

Shinden's poll wrinkled briefly. "You might feel a bit of fear, but control and sense will save your rear..." The sun was going down. Just above the first tier, at castle level, the two princesses were trading off day and night. "...reduce the angle of attack, increase speed and don't look back!"

The city spread out before them, ponies everywhere, going home, going out to eat, going to shows, just enjoying the sunset. Peridot considered taking a cab to the first tier, but then remembered the lovely park on the way. It was just such a nice park, and everything was just so pretty.

Sedulous could be as grumpy as he liked tomorrow. The lightsprite firefly lanterns were being awakened, everywhere now they glowed. Somewhere, probably in the park above, Peridot could hear music playing. "Very good!"

Shinden grinned. "Ice cream!"

"Yes. You don't mind if we walk there, do you?" Peridot smiled and nodded at a couple as they passed. A unicorn and an earthpony smiled and nodded back.

"Nope. Especially if we just... happen... to walk by the toy store."

"Just happen... to walk by the toy store?" The poor thing couldn't be less sneaky if he deliberately tried.

"Well, you know... it might be on the way... and if it was... it might be fun... to peek inside. Just a little."

Peridot worked hard not to laugh. "Just take a little look. Just in case. To be sure."

"Exactly!" Shinden's face lit up. "You never know, you know?"

"Oh, I know. Oh, how I know." Peridot was losing the battle not to smile.

"Exccccellaaaannnnt." Shinden's large ears twitched in devious delight. Doubtless he thought himself a pegasus mastermind. The little colt turned and looked at his mom. "What are you laughing about?"

Hwinem finished the row, then bent his neck back to unlock and lift the coulter and mouldboard. With a twist of his head, they were locked again, but above the ground. Now the ploughcart could be easily pushed back to the barn.

The newfoal once named 'Sergey' had taken the name Hwinem to be clever. He thought it was clever, anyway. His son, Asher - the reason he had become a newfoal - had named himself Swiftwind. It was a bit of an unusual name, because his son was a unicorn. 'Swiftwind' would have been a perfect name for a pegasus, and in fact Hwinem often dealt with that. When he mentioned his son, the common response would be 'Pegasus, eh?' which would lead to having to explain, no, he's a unicorn, he just likes to run fast. 'Oh!' would come the surprised reaction, 'That's usually a pegasus name, wind and air and all that, you know?'

Not once had Hwinem ever been asked about his own, unusual name. This mildly aggrieved him.

His son was named Swiftwind. Jonathan Swift. Gulliver's Travels - Hwinem knew for a fact the book had been translated (with only minor expurgations) to Equestrian - it was in the local library in the 'extraversal books' section. Hwinem. It was how 'Houyhnhnm' - the race of intelligent, talking horses in the book - was pronounced!

Hwinem sighed. It was likely that few of the locals actually used the library much. Despite princess Luna's efforts to inspire more reading - 'Reading is as sustenance to the wit!' the campaign hadn't actually made much of an impact in highly rural East Paddock.

Swiftwind wanted a place where he could run, where he could be by a pond with animals and trees all around. Canterlot was out, and that left the borders of Equestria, almost to the start of the Exponential Lands. Hwinem wanted to be near to Canterlot Mountain, and the Human Masada on the back of it, and Swiftwind did want to be able to visit Canterlot again someday, so East Paddock was a decent compromise.

A week on hoof or a few hours by air was not too close or too far. Hwinem and Swift shared a very comfortable two-story cottage in the village, and Hwinem had regular work on all of the farms. Land ownership was somewhat loose in tiny East Paddock, so pretty much everypony shared everything, and the various farms were essentially one big village farm. Everypony had a stake in the harvest, because everypony shared, and so everypony helped out. Hwinem had half-laughingly remarked that only ponies could make communism actually work.

Nopony had understood the word 'communism'. Old Beans, the elder of the village, wanted to know what 'izem' was, and felt it couldn't be that common, if he hadn't ever heard about it. Tangle, the village barber (and medic, and dentist, and farrier) reasoned that 'izem' sounded like something a pony could eat. Hwinem had tried to explain what he had really meant, but failed utterly. Finally, in defeat, Hwinem had offered that izem tasted sort of like strawberries.

Both Tangle and Beans thought and discussed and pondered and considered. Finally they decided that izem had to be just another name for strawberries, and those were pretty darn common, so - by that logic - Hwinem must be right. So they bought him a cider for 'knowin' fancy words'.

After that, Hwinem was the go-to pony for anything the villagers didn't understand. Since Hwinem was a newfoal, and didn't understand much of Equestria, in a moment of pressure he once resorted to making stuff up. It seemed to work. He got cider for free, and nopony in East Paddock seemed to care. Hwinem half suspected they knew he was pulling notions out of his flank, and that really, they just enjoyed him going on about things.

Free cider is free cider.

"Dad!" Swiftwind ran up to his father, and helped him store the ploughcart properly. With the barn door securely shut - so the chickens wouldn't try to nest in the carts - the two began the walk to their cottage.

"I spent the day at the pond!" Swiftwind loved the pond. Hwinem enjoyed hearing about his son's adventures there. Sometimes Swift liked to swim, most times he played with his animal friends. Apparently, there were all sorts of little animals in Equestria, and all of them were semi - or completely - sapient. Only hooved animals had the power of speech, but other creatures were still smart, and they had their own ways of communicating. Swift had befriended all he could find.

"Dusty - he's the big trout I told you about? Dusty did this backflip, splash, right in the pond, only the water went all over Jumper and she got so mad!" Swiftwind was damp with sweat. He'd apparently had a good day running about.

"Jumper?" It was hard to keep up with all of his colt's little animal friends. "Bunny, right?"

"No! Skylark. She likes to jump around because flying frightens her." Of course, a bird. How silly to think otherwise. "Jumper got so mad at getting splashed that she squawked really loud, and that woke up Squirrely, who was sleeping and..."

Hwinem interrupted. "I didn't know you knew a squirrel. Red or grey?" Hwinem had seen storybook pictures of red squirrels and always wanted to see one for real.

"Squirrel? Oh - Squirrely! No, he's a beaver. Totally nuts, though. Just crazy as a loon. anyway, Squirrely..."

"Wait..." Hwinem pushed open the door of the cottage with a hoof. "Squirrely's a beaver, who's Crazy the loon?"

"The loon's not named Crazy, dad." Swiftwind used his horn to pump water into a large bowl, which he then began drinking from. "The loon's name is Logic. Anyway, Squrrely woke up like 'AHHHH!' and Jumper went 'WARRRRK!' and..."

"You know a loon named 'Logic'. In this village." Hwinem shook his head as he set about making dinner.

"Logic's really smart, dad. She knows more than any waterfowl I've ever met." The colt seemed serious.

"So you know a skylark named Jumper, a beaver named Squirrely, a trout named Dusty, and a loon called Logic? Is that correct?"

Swiftwind pumped more water. He was very thirsty. "Uh-huh. Yeah?"

"Third base." Hwinem checked the pantry for mallow. Ah. Mallow roots. That would do.

"What?" Swiftwind was confused.

"Never mind, son." Cabbage would be ideal. There had to be some in the garden. "Can you go get cabbage, Swift?"

"I didn't know you knew Cabbage!" Swiftwind seemed overjoyed. "Should I invite him for dinner?"

Oh yes. 'Cabbage' was Swift's donkey friend from down the road. "No. I mean get cabbage - the plant - from the garden. Please?"

"Oh." The colt seemed disappointed.

Hwinem sighed. "If you can find three cabbages out there, you can ask your friend to join us."

"I'm on it!" That seemed to cheer the foal up.

Hwinem watched his colt rooting through the vegetable garden. He smiled as he leaned on the windowsill. The daisies were moving, growing in real time and tickling his nostrils. Oh. Earthpony. It was easy to forget, sometimes. Happy feelings made the plants grow, and what he felt for his son must have made the freshly planted daisies shoot up and flower in just those few seconds.

Swiftwind had two cabbages in his telekinetic field and was searching about for a mature third.

Hwinem carefully touched a forehoof to one of the daisies in the little pot. An almost electric green crackle danced between hoof and plant, barely visible. One would hardly notice it normally. The plant responded by growing even taller, and producing three more tasty flowers. It was a strange thing, being magic. But it was also satisfying in a way nothing else in his earthly career ever had been.

Reams of paperwork just couldn't compare with making a single flower grow because of the love in your heart for your son. All of that accounting and legal nonsense. Infighting and family politics. Trying to destroy rival families, using obscure points to ruin lives by violating the spirit of agreements. Getting ahead was a dirty business.

Hwinem delicately touched the edge of his forehoof to the soil in the pot and marveled as miniscule electric snakes of green light wove their way through the dirt. The daisies seemed to stand taller, as if coming to attention, eager to please.

Getting ahead had been a dirty business. But actual dirt... was a clean business. Hwinem shook his head in confusion and wonder. It was so different out here, outside the Masada.

"Third cabbage!!!" The three vegetables danced and floated around his colt's head, all wrapped in blue light.

Hwinem laughed. "Go get your friend, Swift!" the cabbages floated to the windowsill, where the blue glow faded. Hwinem watched his unicorn son galloping off down the dirt road, kicking his hooves up in simple joy.

With the pan heating, Hwinem held the blade by the handle with his teeth. His mouth grip was solid, and he didn't feel any shock as he chopped the cabbages and mallow. Hwinem considered... spicy, or sweet? Little of each, he reckoned, and used a bit of both sauces. It seemed that stir-frying was a pan-universal cooking technique. Then again, why not? A pan was a pan, be it a wok or an Equestrian saddle-skillet. The curved cooking surface reduced the grease content, but looked odd. It worked though.

Hwinem added a little more vegetable oil. The smell of dinner almost overwhelmed his nostrils, and made his belly rumble.

It had been three years now, since Hwinem had been transformed, since he had traded hands for hooves. The first few months had been difficult. He had felt clumsy and unsure of his new body. Now, he was amazed at how easily he accomplished things with nothing more than mouth and hoof. Swiftwind had his magic, but earthponies had their supernal agility and tirelessness.

Hwinem balanced a platter on his back, as he had finished with the sweet-n-spicy improvised dish. Swift and his newest friend were already galloping toward the cottage.

Intelligent animals, magic, ponies and donkeys and loons and beavers and green growing everything everywhere. Equestria was not a simple world, but it was... it was a nice one, Hwinem decided. He reached back and placed the platter on the table just as the two colts burst in.

"This is Cabbage, dad! He's my friend!" Swiftwind beamed.

The donkey colt grinned and waggled his ears in greeting. "Hello, Swiftwind's dad!"

No background checks, no security reports, no assessments of financial status, no concerns about connections, affiliations, or family history. There was a new personage in the house, and he was a friend. Just like that.

"Well, hello there Cabbage!" Hwinem laughed. "I hope you like yourself, because that's what's for dinner!"

The donkey turned his head and blinked. "I love cabbage!" Equid noses. He would have known what was being cooked from his own yard. "In fact, you'll never guess where I got my name!"

Hwinem had a pretty good guess.

Then again, considering all of his son's animal friends at the pond, it was almost certainly wrong.

Lime Sherbet placed the hearthswarming wreathes around the marble chamber. The four years were nearly up. Next month, the smaller statue would turn eighteen by the calender, and then both Isla and Oliver could be brought back to life.

Lately, Oliver's mother, Hyssop Garden, had been coming sometimes twice a month to see her child. She had been ponified years ago, in preparation for what was soon to come. Lime had spoken with her several times.

"I just want her to have a really nice home when she becomes a pony. I've made her the most darling room, and I've gotten everything she could need. At least I think I have. If only she'd told me..." The teal pegasus had fluttered her wings and rubbed her poll on the statue of Oliver. "Oliver confided in Celestia things she didn't feel safe telling me. I tried to make her understand she could tell me anything, but..."

"Maybe little Oliver was just afraid of burdening you with something you couldn't do anything about? It's pretty clear your filly cared about others more than herself." Lime always tried to comfort every guest of the princesses. Actually, Lime just tried to comfort everypony she could. It was just nice... to be nice.

"No, no..." Hyssop Garden had looked sad, then. "In the old world... it wasn't accepted... to be born the wrong sex. Oliver would have gotten that message from everything and everypony around her. Even from me, I suppose, back then."

"I don't think I'll ever understand what it must have been like for you. But you're here now! And the princesses will make everything all right, you can be sure of that. Little Oliver will awaken to only love and friendship and support, right?" Lime had gently nuzzled the worried mother.

"Yes. Yeah... I just feel bad sometimes, for the past. But you're right Ms Sherbet." Hyssop brightened. "I'm here now. I'm finally fully here for my Oliver, and that's what matters."

The wreathes didn't actually do that much to brighten the Waiting Room, but they were a cheerful effort. At least it was a way of including the poor stone children in the life of the castle. They couldn't see or hear or feel or think, but Lime liked to imagine that somehow they could sense the love she tried to send their way.

Ten years seemed like a long time. Luna had explained that, for the children, no time at all would have passed. Oliver and Isla had waited the longest of all the Masada runaways, a full decade - until Isla was legally eighteen. It had been too dangerous to try to separate the two.

In a month, the little circus would return. Lime wondered if they would all show up. Crimson and Plantain, Morning Star, Swiftwind and Shinden, and their parents too. Celestia was sending special invitations to everypony involved this time, for one big, last reunion.

In a way, it was slightly sad. As Lime exited the Waiting Room, she realized this next event would be the last time that the Masada Six would be a part of castle life. She had gotten used to the excitement of the revivifications. They were like opening presents in a way, with the gift inside being new ponies to laugh and play and be glad of the magic of life.

Just before she turned the corner, she remembered her feather duster. Silly. Lime went back into the Waiting Room and lifted her duster with her hornfield. The last four years had been the last years of her taking care of the lithified children. In one month, the Waiting Room would likely vanish altogether. The corridor would just suddenly lack one door. And not a single member of the staff would see it happen, most likely.

Though Lime had been working on a plan to try.

16. The Six New Mornings: Ghosts And Flowers, Part Two

The Conversion Bureau

HUMAN

in Equestria
By Chatoyance

The Six New Mornings: Ghosts And Flowers, Part Two

Lime Sherbet is used with the permission by the superb author Gabriel LaVedier, from the excellent Dames Of The Tea Table, which you should read because it is wonderful.
Special thanks to my spouse Aedina for her assistance with historically accurate Elizabethan speech.

Morning Star walked slowly away from Hyssop Garden and joined her young friends.

"How is she doing?" Crimson Beauty tried not to stare at the nervous, worried pegasus.

"She just wants to be alone. I thought maybe she would be more willing to talk with a filly, you know?" Morning Star sighed.

Shinden kicked one hoof with the other. "Yeah, my mom and Swift's dad both struck out. And I think Crim and Plantain's mom bother her somehow. Same with Morning's dads."

"I think her issue is adoption. I believe Hyssop is worried that Oliver won't accept her for some reason. Rather like how your mother felt afraid." Crimson looked away from Shinden to his mother. Peridot was chatting with the rest of the parents - Hwinym, Windshear and Spindrift, and her own mother, Banana. All of the parents stood together, except for one. Hyssop Garden stood alone, down the hallway, staring off into space.

Hyssop had started the day in good spirits. She had brought a very nice, very pink set of filly saddlebags, a very cute pink-and white hat, and also an adorable stuffed diamond dog toy. The diamond dog toy had a pink bow tied around its neck. Oliver had adored the Sachs family house servant. Hyssop had done everything and anything she could think of to show her child that she loved and wanted her.

But something was wrong.

The revivification process had been going on now for over an hour. Both princesses appeared locked in some desperate effort. Twisting ribbons of thaumatic force streamed from the twin diarchs to swirl in complex patterns around both Oliver and Isla. The head maid of the castle, Lime Sherbet, had seemed concerned when she came by to see the new ponies. The process had never taken this long before. Lime had reassured everypony that the princesses would take care of whatever was going on, and that everything would be alright, but...

Something, was clearly wrong.

"I wish we could help her somehow." Swiftwind's ears drooped low as he glanced again at Oliver's mother, Hyssop. She seemed like a statue herself, just staring at the wall, but there was no way for her to fully hide how she was feeling. Her ears were pulled flat against her poll, and her wings twitched as if unable to find a comfortable place to remain folded.

Swiftwind turned his head away, and noticed Crimson and Plantain's mom approaching.

"Hyssop. I know. It just breaks my heart. But she just plain doesn't want to talk." Banana Acres bent her head and nuzzled her fillies. Crimson and Plantain pressed their heads and necks close to her, and finally snugged their bodies in on either side as well. Everypony felt worried about whatever was going on.

"Ms. Acres? Has there been any word from Isla's dad?" Morning Star stared at the flickering, pulsing glow emanating from the Waiting Room. Nopony dared to even go close to the door, now.

Banana gave her two daughters another comforting snuggle and raised her head. "No, dear. I'm sorry. Isla's father is completely refusing to respond. I just don't understand these humans one bit!" Banana Acres gave a little soft stomp of frustration with her forehoof. Everypony was speaking in quiet tones, and trying not to make noise for fear of distracting the princesses.

"Luigi Draghi was always a prideful and stubborn man." Peridot Cabochon bent over her son, Shinden, and gave him a lick on the poll to tidy a rebelliously upright strand of mane. "But even I am shocked. After all these years, Drahgi's heart hasn't softened one bit." The rest of the adults had joined Banana and Peridot, forming one large group of parents and foals.

"How long has it been now?" Hwinym braced his legs as his son, Swiftwind, pressed into him. Since becoming a pony, none of the former human children had changed more than Swiftwind. As Asher, he had been angry and rude. As a unicorn, Swiftwind had shown himself to be remarkably sensitive and gentle. He adored his father.

"Ah! Let me see..." Spindrift drew a pocket watch out of his fancy tweed gentlesire's jacket. "Ith thin athout, thait, I thant thee ith thotherly..."

"Let me help, love." Windshear took the watch with just a hint of a kiss from his husband's mouth and held it for him to read the time.

Spindrift briefly nuzzled their daughter, Morning Star - she had pressed herself close, for comfort - and then studied the watch in Windshear's teeth. "Oh. Goodness. It's been almost an hour and a half now."

"I'm afraid!" Morning Star buried her muzzle into Spindrift's immaculate tweed.

Windshear carefully placed the closed watch back in his husband's pocket, and drew close in a three-way pony hug. "The princesses are... well, they're the princesses, Star. I'm certain everything will all be alright, whatever happens."

Crimson Beauty raised her head from the soft, warm, chestnut coat of her mother, Banana. She tried to smile for her sister, to cheer her, but Plantain was staring down the hallway. Crimson followed her gaze, as did the rest of the fillies, colts, sires and mares clustered together.

Hyssop Garden was softly crying.

She had not moved from where she had been standing. Beside her, on the polished marble, were her gifts for her future daughter. A tear ran down her cheek and spattered in the floor.

The group began to move toward Hyssop, unable to let her be alone any longer.

At that very moment, Hyssop Garden was briefly covered in a shimmer of golden light. Instantly, like a marionette with its strings cut, Hyssop crashed to the floor and flopped over. Her muzzle was open, and her tongue lolled past her teeth onto the marble. Her eyes were open, staring at nothing.

Windshear and Spindrift were there in an instant. "She's not breathing! Spin! Get a unicorn, now!"

Peridot Cabochon stood over Hyssop's body. "Give me room! I AM a unicorn!"

"She knows what she's doing. She designs medical tools." Hwinym began forcing the crowd of shocked ponies to back up, and make space.

Peridot closed her eyes and focused her magic. Her horn began to glow, the glow echoed on the fallen body of Oliver's mother. The telekinetic glow ran up and down Hyssop Garden, pausing to close her eyes, and gently place her drying tongue back in her mouth. Then Peridot shut down her hornfield and opened her eyes.

"Hwin, Shear, Spin? Get the foals out of here. Take them to that gallery on the other side of the Waiting Room. Now!" Peridot's eyes flashed, and the three stallions began ushering sobbing ponies away from the scene. "Acres?"

Banana Acres stood across the body of Hyssop, trembling. "Is she?"

"Very. Not even a trace of her Couplement inside. She's... gone. I can't find any reason for this to have happened. Her heart was fine. Her lungs were fine. No blood clots, no anything. No reason. None at all. None... at all." Peridot was beginning to lose her scientific detachment. During the past year, she had gotten to know Hyssop. The two had begun regularly meeting for lunch. Peridot had helped her shop for the saddlebags for little Oliver.

A tear fell from her eye, despite all of her efforts to be the proper attending unicorn on site. "Oh... sweet Luna..."

Banana Acres moved around the body and hugged Peridot with her neck.

The chamber was large and round, like a great dome, like three quarters of a bubble. It appeared, in the dim light, to be made of some dark and gray crystal.

Taking up almost all of the floor was a great, circular dais with many concentric steps. In the center of the uppermost plateau stood a very elaborate chair, almost a throne. It faced a vast holoscreen, large as half of the dome, through which the lost earth of the past could be seen. The view into the screen was strange, a first person sort of viewpoint, as though seeing through the eyes of a child. A small hand gripped a bannister as tiny feet went up a staircase.

Behind the throne, the back of the dome had been sealed off by a pile of junk. No... not junk, chairs. Theater chairs. Dozens and dozens of theater chairs had been dumped in a great pile against the flat wall that was the back of the partial dome. A small window in that back wall let three holoprojector beams through. In the corner, where the wall met the curve of the chamber, a tiny, doorless fort of plascrete blocks had been built. It had a single, tiny opening. It resembled some ancient solitary torture cell from earth's bloody and violent history.

Hyssop Garden blinked. She felt strange. One moment, she had been standing, crying, in the hallway outside the Waiting Room. Her little filly should have been alive by now, saved by the princesses. But something had gone wrong. She had stood and waited for well over an hour. She worried that her little Oliver would not choose to live. Then, while she was deep in her thoughts, she had suddenly felt as if she were falling. Now... she was here.

Wherever here was.

"We do beg thee grant us pardon for thine precipitous discorporation, good mare of Equestria! Thy beloved offspring teeters even now upon the very precipice of vile oblivion, and we beseech thee of thy most needful aide."

Hyssop's eyes found focus on the face of princess Luna, the diarch of the night. Instantly, Hyssop bent her forelegs in a pony bow, overwhelmed by royal presence. "Princess! I... I don't understand. How did I get here? What is this... wait! You said my offspring was in some kind of danger? Oliver? Oliver is in danger?"

"Your filly calls herself 'Peony', Hyssop. She is indeed in grave danger. I know this is very strange, and very difficult for you, but we have called you here to try to save your daughter." Celestia filled Hyssop's view now, her mane a softly glowing light in the dim chamber.

In addition to the two princesses, Hyssop became aware of a third individual, a small, snow-white pegasus filly with an equally white mane. "P....Peony?" Hyssop moved to try to touch her daughter.

"I'm Isla! Wow! You're a pony!" Isla had been expecting the human form of Peony's mother.

"Isla? I... yes. I became a pony early on, to prepare a home for Oliver when she... when... 'Peony'..."

Hyssop shook her head, trying to clear it.

"...for when my Peony was brought back. I wanted her to have a proper pony home to..." Hyssop began to feel less stunned, less disoriented, and more herself. She looked more carefully at little Isla-the-pegasus, and then at the two princesses. Then she looked around the strange room. There was no sign of any other ponies... or little human children, either.

"Where's Oliver... I mean Peony? What is going on?" Hyssop felt confused and afraid for her child. She had no idea what was going on, but she understood one thing clearly - her filly was in some sort of trouble. Peony was apparently missing, because she wasn't anywhere around, and this made Hyssop feel even more confused and upset.

Celestia bent down to look into Hyssop's troubled eyes. "This place we are in - it is a representation of your daughter's mind, of the seat of her consciousness. Literally." Celestia nodded at the elaborate chair on the dais. "It is currently a bit of a mess..." The princess gestured with a hoof toward the pile of chairs and the little cell of blocks "...because your child is deeply conflicted. She is afraid, Hyssop. She is consumed with fear and shame."

Hyssop looked past Celestia to the interior of the strange dome, trying to make sense of everything. "Fear? Shame? Why? I love her! I accept her completely! I got her nice saddlebags, and I've done her room in pink - that's her favorite color you know, and..."

"I am certain of your devotion to little Peony. But she herself seems to feel... otherwise. I believe she is terrified that she will never be accepted or loved fully. It is my understanding that this was an issue on your world, that those born with rare circumstances concerning sex and gender were often targets of scorn?"

Hyssop pulled back from the princess, her muzzle open. "I never! I've been nothing but supportive of Oliver... Peony! It never mattered to me what she was or wasn't as long as she was happy!"

Celestia raised her head, staring at the vast screen that covered half of the chamber. Hyssop followed her silent gaze.

Hyssop saw the human face she once had worn fill the view. It looked strange to her now, almost unreal. Her human lips seemed to kiss something just above the screen, before looking down on the camera. "Boys will be boys, I suppose." Hyssop startled at the sound of her old human voice, from her old human mouth.

"But I'm not!" The voice was weak but adamant. "I'm not a boy!" It was Oliver's voice, when he was very young. Peony's voice. Peony.

"Shhh... shhh..." Hyssop saw her human face even closer now. Her old self seemed to be checking the camera, studying it. "Did you hit your head, sweety? Of course you're a boy, you're mommy's little man, and everything is going to be okay!"

The screen suddenly went dark. Then, after a few seconds, the vast holoscreen brightened again. The movie now seemed to be following a first-person walk down a long hallway. Hyssop recognized the location - it was from many years ago, when she and... Peony... had lived in Spain. Peony would have been about five or so.

"This sequence replays, over and over. Peony goes to your bedroom, apparently trying to express some aspect of human mareness in order to comfort herself. She cries, then runs downstairs when she hears you come home. She falls, and hurts herself, and then the exchange that you just witnessed occurs."

Hyssop felt herself being nuzzled, only then realizing the tears on her cheeks. It was Luna, standing close to her, as Celestia continued.

"Foals are very vulnerable and aware of every small thing, because life is new to them. The most unthinking of messages can have enormous impact. As a foal grows, she is influenced by everything in her life as she tries, constantly, to seek approval from those around her." Celestia stopped and nuzzled Hyssop too, for a moment.

"I know you meant nothing intentionally unkind by your words. That said, your filly has seized upon this one event as a symbol for what one of my ambassadors described as 'A culture of denigration and ridicule of any deviation from an entirely imaginary norm.' From what I have been told, it is likely that your child endured a lifelong attack upon their identity and self worth from the the culture you both lived in. She only knows that she is afraid of rejection, and that she is ashamed of existing at all."

Hyssop fell to her foreknees, crying. "What can I do? Tell me what to do!" Her tears became wails, because the full import of the situation had broken through. Her filly was dying, out there, in the real world, and the reason her daughter was dying was because she had given up all hope of being loved.

Hyssop wept, the wracking sobs echoing in the chamber. Isla tried to move to comfort her, but princess Luna held the little pegasus back with the silver grasp of her hornfield. Both Celestia and Luna withdrew, into the shadows under the screen, taking Isla with them.

"Mommy?" The voice was faint. It came from somewhere near the chair, near the center of the dome.

Hyssop, alone on the steps near the chair, cried out. "Peony?" Hyssop's tears intensified at the eerie feeling she was speaking to the ghost of her already dead daughter.

"Mommy! Please! You're crying! Why are you crying?" A vague shape began to form on the seat of the chair.

Hyssop couldn't see now, the tears filling her eyes. Why wouldn't the princess tell her what to do? Where had they both gone? She found herself choking on her own sobs, and gasped for breath.

"Mommy! Don't be sad!" The shadow in the chair instantly took on color and solidity. A little human girl bolted from the chair and wrapped her arms around the bawling pony on the steps. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! It's me, isn't it? you're crying because of me! I'm sorry mommy, please don't cry, don't cry, I'll be good, I promise, I promise I'll be good, just don't cry, just don't cry..."

Hyssop pressed herself into her daughter's arms and chest, sobbing harder at the warmth, at the pressure, at the fact that her child was finally there. "Peony! No... I'm sorry, I'm the one that is sorry, Peony... I want you to come home. I want you to come home right now!"

The little girl squeezed tighter. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I'll be whatever you want me to be, just don't cry anymore, please stop crying!" The shape of the little girl began to waver, and alter, the colors fading, the Tudor dress changing into a drab suit. The body began to expand and grow fatter and less delicate. "Please don't cry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

The change startled Hyssop, who pulled away slightly, her hooves on the shoulders of her child. "No! Stop that!"

"Mommy?" The shifting, altering shape was poised, halfway between forms.

"Peony... I just want you to be happy!" Hyssop sniffed, her eyes still dripping. "If you want to be my filly, then be my filly. Don't be something just because... because you think you have to please me. It doesn't please me, Peony. I just want you to be you, whatever that is..."

The mutable child slowly began to fade back towards her female appearance. "But... but you said... and all the kids... and mister Astor and 'those damn faggots' and what happened to missus Walton's nephew and..."

"Shhh.... shhh... that's all in the past. That's all earth stuff, and the earth is gone." Hyssop slowly ran the bend of her pastern down her daughter's human forearm. "Just forget all that. I want you to be who you want to be. The princess tells me that your name is 'Peony' now. Is that true?"

The shape in Hyssop's forelegs quavered, and lowered it's undefined head. The answer was barely audible. "Yes."

Hyssop smiled through her tears. "T-That's a very pretty name. I like it very much."

A blurred, hopeful smile began to focus into a clear and sharp grin. "Really?"

"Very much. If I had a little filly, I would name her 'Peony', and take her home and be proud of her every day. I miss my little Peony very much. Would you come home and be my pretty little Peony?"

The little girl in the Tudor dress buried herself in her mother's embrace. The tears now came from her, as she wept out a short lifetime of quiet, private grief and suffering.

"Will you come home with me? Will you be my little filly?" Hyssop wrapped her wings around her daughter, embracing her with all but hind legs.

"I..." the voice was breathless and still crying. "I... can really be a girl?"

"A girl pony, but yes. Yes, yes, my little Peony. Come home with me and be my little girl."

Suddenly, Peony jerked in Hyssop's embrace, and raised herself. She stared into her mother's eyes. "The other kids! All the other ponies too! They'll all hate me! They'll hurt me!" Peony became slightly transparent, and Hyssop felt her daughter slipping away.

"No! That's not true!" Isla galloped free of Luna's fading hornfield. In three leaps she had made the top of the dais, and unable to stop smashed into Hyssop and Peony. Legs and arms and hooves and feet tangled together. "I like you better! I already told you that! I'm not a liar! I said you were pretty and everything!"

It took a bit of time for the three to right themselves. Isla was still mad. "You listen to me, Peony! If any pony even tried to say something bad to you, why... I'd buck 'em right in the roadapples!"

The absurdity of this brought Hyssop to laughter. Peony, seeing her mother finally not crying, began to laugh too. "The what?"

"Roadapples. I heard that somewhere. I don't know what it is, but I'd kick'em for you!" Isla had managed to stand, and she puffed out her chest and set her hooves firmly, as if she were ready to face down anything. "Besides, this is Equestria, Peony. Nopony is gonna say anything bad because ponies don't do that."

"It's true, little Peony." The three looked up to see Celestia and Luna standing over them. "All the things that you feared on earth do not exist here. If any pony came to me and wanted to be a filly - or a colt - my sister and I would gladly change them, and nopony would ever be anything but happy for their happiness. You will be welcomed and accepted, Peony, I promise."

The princess of the night took a step forward. "Thou shalt be loved and cherished, little filly, by mother and friend alike, and thou needs fear no pony in all of Equestria. We do give thee our royal promise on this, that thy life as filly and mare shall be as that of any other. Come thou then, and do give us in return thy pledge to live as our beloved little pony!"

Peony looked from Luna to the face of her mother, to Isla, to Celestia and then back to Luna. "Can I be a pegasus like my mommy?"

Luna nodded.

"Can I be pink?"

Luna rolled her eyes slightly, but nodded.

"With really soft pink hair and pink eyes and pink wings and be pretty like Isla?"

Celestia tried to hide her smile at her sister's restraint.

"Verily, little filly, if pink thou dost wish to be, then we pledge our troth that pink thou shalt become. Thy pinkness is most truly assured!"

"Okay." Peony turned to her mother and snuggled between her forelegs.

Peony nibbled at the clover pudding. She had tried many things already, and all were good, and all had been filling. She hadn't much room left, but Crimson had said the clover pudding was too good to miss. After a taste, Peony slightly regretted eating so much of the rose petal cake.

She had indeed turned out pink. Her coat was a delicate and shimmery pink. Her mane and tail were much lighter, almost a milky, pearlescent pink. Her eyes were hot pink, bright and shining like gems. Peony had spent some time just staring at herself in the gallery mirror, flaring out her wings and giggling, until her mom and Isla had told her to sit down. The head of the castle maids, Lime, had brought food for everypony. Peony realized she felt very hungry. The scary day was drawing to a close. Everypony was finally relaxed now, enjoying themselves and each other.

An hour previously, the room had not been so jolly. Back when the princesses had first entered the gallery, all the pony families had looked up and stared with wide eyes, fearing the worst. But then Isla had trotted through the door, between the princesses, and everypony's spirits had been raised. It took a little coaxing, but when Peony finally entered the room, all the stallions and mares and colts and fillies swarmed around, crying with joy. Both children had been saved!

At first, Peony had been nervous and shy. But, with enough 'ooh's and 'awwws', she was soon trotting merrily about, her wings flapping with excitement to be alive in the world. The overwhelming, and nearly fatal shame and fear that had so scarred the former human child had been conquered by one of Equestria's most astonishing sorceries. The cure had been the unstoppable power of truly absolute, truly unconditional acceptance. No monster of shame, no creature of fear, could win against such genuine affection. Fear and grief and worry had been turned to joyfulness in the room.

That joy had turned to shock and confusion when Hyssop Garden followed shortly behind her daughter - everypony had been convinced that she had been dead! Celestia calmly explained that yes, Hyssop had been dead, but only for a little while, and only just a little bit. Certainly nothing that couldn't be fixed. Hyssop, or at least her spirit, had been needed... elsewhere... in order to help save her daughter. Celestia had maintained control of her... ghost... the entire time, so there had been no risk of Hyssop being tempted by any greater vistas. The princess apologized for upsetting anyone, there had just been no time to explain things.

Very little of this bizarre explanation of events was understood by anypony, but that was okay. Everypony was just glad to have Hyssop back alive, and to have everything be alright.

After that, Celestia and Luna had excused themselves, leaving Lime Sherbet and her staff in charge of the situation. In no time at all, the reunion had become a banquet, with food served on rolling trays and every pony enjoying delicious treats from the royal kitchens. Lime was used to transformations now, and newfoals were always hungry after becoming ponies, and besides... all ponies enjoyed tasty treats during celebrations!

The two last children of the Masada Six had survived, despite a bit of a scare, and that was something worth celebrating.

Hyssop smiled, watching her little Peony happily savoring a small bowl of clover pudding, her big pink eyes shut tight to concentrate on the flavor. Her new filly looked so cute enjoying the treat that Hyssop almost felt like crying again. Finally, she tore herself away from watching her precious filly, and turned to another precious pony.

"Isla... I wonder if... if you would like to come live with Peony and me? Peony adores you, and... you two get along so well... and, if you would let me..." Hyssop looked down, unable to make eye contact for long. "...I know you're disappointed about your father and..." Hyssop swallowed and looked back up "If you want, you can be Peony's sister. I would be happy to be your mommy. If you want me to be."

The little snow-white pegasus licked banana frosting off of her face. Apparently the royal kitchens did not lack for desserts. "You'd have to give me a name. A flower name. Because we're a flower family." The filly looked thoughtful for a moment. Then impatient. "So name me!"

Hyssop tried to work through this sudden data-dump of child-logic. Oh! Hyssop Garden. Peony. Flowers. 'All Garden children should be named for flowers'... that was her reasoning. Okay... what name? A white flower, because Isla was white with a white mane? A favorite flower? It was hard to come up with a name on the spot. Hyssop felt like this was some kind of a test. Maybe, in Isla's young mind, it was.

"Tulip. Because Tulips represent a declaration of love. I want you to feel loved, and to have a happy home where you can be a happy filly." Hyssop looked over at Peony. "And also have a sister who clearly cares for you very, very much." 'Enough to sacrifice her own life' was what Hyssop thought after her words. The profundity of Peony's selfless act had been on Hyssop's mind for years now.

"Peony Garden, Tulip Garden, and Mommy Garden." The little pegasus flapped a wing, sending a small burst of air at Peony. Peony startled from her pudding trance and looked about, finally focusing on the source of the wind. "We're sisters now."

Peony smiled. "For real?" Pink eyes focused on Hyssop.

"For real." Hyssop smiled back.

"Oh... and my name is 'Tulip' now. Don't forget it! Tulip." Tulip took another bite of her banana and creme dish.

Peony looked from her mom to her new sister and back. "We're all pegasuses. Pegasisuses. You know what I mean."

"Mnn-hmm. I guess we are." Hyssop stretched her wings and folded them. "Birds of a feather."

"We should live in a cloud house." Peony grinned at her new sister. "And fly together in the sky!"

"I don't know how to fly." Tulip's ears fell.

"We could go to school. No more dumb tutors. Ponies to play with." Peony turned to Hyssop "Mom! Tulip doesn't know how to fly. I think you should find a way to get her into school. And me too. We both need to go to school so we can learn to fly good."

"I could teach you." Hyssop sat up tall. She felt proud.

"That's okay. We'd prefer school, right Tulip?" Peony gave a quick nod.

"Right. With lots of other foals to play with." Tulip nodded back.

"And a nice teacher who is... nice." Peony licked at a bit of clover pudding stuck to her muzzle.

"Oh! I'll need saddlebags too. Like yours. Only green." Tulip studied Peony's attempts to get the pudding. "Left. No, other left. Yeah. You got it."

"For books! They'll probably have books. About flying and stuff." Peony turned to Hyssop. "Tulip needs saddlebags too. Like the ones you got me? Only green. Oh, and we want to live in a cloud house someday, okay?"

Hyssop Garden stared at her two daughters. Already they were tag-teaming her. She laughed. "I'll see what I can do."

"She's a good mom, huh?" Peony yawned, filled with contentment... and a lot of tasty treats.

Tulip yawned as well. "I'm tired."

Hyssop shook her head. The day had been a day of wonders and terrors. Her daughter had almost died. She, herself, actually had died, and then been... brought back... by the princesses. She'd been inside her filly's head, along with Tulip, who had just become her second daughter. Yet the two of them... it was like Peony and Tulip had always been sisters. It was as if all the scary, strange events of the day had only been some silly, harmless nightmare. Equestria truly was magical. It certainly had plenty of arcane beams of thaumaturgical force, but the real magic wasn't showy at all.

The real magic of Equestria was in the heart.

"Miss Lime?" Hyssop caught the attention of the kind chief maid. "Could you tell us where our rooms are? My daughters are getting sleepy. Actually, so am I."

Lime Sherbet, always on top of things, didn't even blink. "I've arranged for a very nice little suite for you and your fillies. Follow me, Ms. Garden." In actuality, Lime had two rooms prepared, one for three, and one for only two. She was glad her happiest guess of possible outcomes had come true.

If there was one thing Lime liked, it was happy endings.

17. Epilogue: What A Piece Of Work Is A Man!

The Conversion Bureau

HUMAN

in Equestria
By Chatoyance

Epilogue: What A Piece Of Work Is A Man!

Special thanks to my spouse Aedina for her assistance with historically accurate Elizabethan speech.

Perhaps sixty... no, seventy. Sixty-five. About sixty-five people, heading for the main gate. That was just about everyone. No, if he was honest with himself, it was everyone. Everyone except Liliane, and that old low-born pedo, Roman.

Stefan Albrecht Bettencourt stared out of his office window, in the corner of his magnificent Tudor-styled mansion, in the prime grounds to the left of the gate, right by the main cobblestone road that ran the length of the fortress. Below, the last of the inhabitants queued up to leave in small groups escorted by royal stallion guards in armor. Each group of humans would be placed on a pegasus-drawn carriage, to be taken to Canterlot, where, still under guard, they would be escorted to the princesses.

And then they would be changed.

This was always the problem with war - losing. They had tried. Their plan had been sound, their strategy solid. The ruling families of earth had retained their human bodies - and most importantly, their hands. Hands were the secret. Hands were the source of all power.

Celestia had known that, Stefan felt sure. She was wily, clever, the ultimate schemer. With hands, a human could work alone, build in secret, construct and make and manufacture in isolation. Hands made it possible for one man to craft bullets in a shack, or make explosives all by himself. Hands allowed a gun to be made by a single man in a single room if need be - or a sword, or a knife, or a bomb.

That was undoubtedly why she had chosen ponies out of all the creatures of the earth to duplicate. There was no way to know precisely what time periods that the solar monarch had seen through her little dimensional peep-holes. But there had been hints. Bettencourt had gotten a report that suggested that Celestia had likely first viewed the earth sometime during the Late Miocene. Dissections of pegasai had revealed elements that resembled that of Pilohippus, blended in with later earthly equines.

Celestia was a thief. She stole her universe from peeping at earth. She could have made humans, they existed, or at least their ancestors did, but she chose equines. There could be only one reason.

Hooves were clumsy. They had no thumbs, no opposing grasp. Equines lived in herds, they moved as one. Celestia had deliberately chosen a species to raise up and make intelligent that could not work alone. Her ponies were forced by necessity to work together to accomplish anything meaningful. Even the unicorns, with their telekinesis - a single horn was worth a dozen hands - were dependent on the pegasai and the earthponies. Unicorns were physically weak and couldn't pull or push or dig like earthponies. They couldn't transport materials long distances over difficult terrain like pegasai. But they could do fine detail work.

Three breeds, each utterly needing the other, and every pony always needing to be helped with any job by the hooves of others. Individually clumsy creatures that collectively could do anything. That was deliberate. That... was genius.

All rebellion starts with the individual, alone. It spreads like fire, consuming hearts and minds, until a new order is created, or the rebels are killed off. The rise and fall of empires, born of individual aspiration and secrecy and individual power.

But in Equestria, there was no hope for ambition. Secrecy was impossible in a world where no creature could go it alone, where entire communities were forced to do everything in the open. Celestia was crafty. Celestia was smart.

And Celestia had won.

Thirty. Thirty or so left. The rest had already passed through the gate. Stefan sipped his coffee. It was cold - Bertarelli made a terrible butler. He was weak and spoiled. Stefan didn't feel like chewing him out right at the moment. He needed to see the last one. He needed to see the last traitor to the human race pass through that gate.

Hooves and a mind bent towards peace. Towards harmony and total cooperation. Celestia was a communist. A socialist. These broken philosophies had failed on earth, because humans were naturally ambitious. They needed to have a sense of self-importance, of self-benefit. Humans could never work toward a collective, or toward a common good - not without incentives. Not without personal gain. Communism collapsed because every man wants to get his own piece of the pie.

Only natural. A hunter gatherer needs to hunt, to win, to achieve.

Celestia solved the problem by eliminating Nature. Ponies were designed, deliberately, to care about the common good. They were driven to collective solutions. There was no space in their passions for conquest. For domination. For rulership.

Alexander would have slit his own throat before going pony. Napoleon would have shot himself in the head. Those were men. Those were the flowers, the glories of humanity. They were remembered because they were worth remembering. They rose to power, as real men do, and sat alone upon their thrones.

Ponies never do anything alone.

"ROMAN!" There were only ten left at the gate, out the window. "ROMAN! Get your sorry ass in here, you baby-fucking bastard! ROMAAAAN!" Stefan had no time to go looking for his telescope. The mansion had come with one, built by some Royal Pony Telescope Maker or somesuch. It was primitive, a simple refractor, lenses and a tube. It looked pretty, gold and gems and exotic woods, but it had pissed Stefan off. Now he wished he knew where it had been put.

"ROOOMMMMAAAAANNN!" The last three traitors were starting to exit the Masada. Wait. That coat. That was the butler coat with the overly large sleeves, designed for diamond dogs. Stefan knew that coat. That was Bertarelli! Bertarelli was the last human out the gate! That filthy bastard had run off and joined the line!

Bettencourt sat down in a huff, his back turned to the window. He stared at the cold coffee in the cup in front of him. The last cup that would ever be served to him appropriately. There were no more servants now. Roman Bertarelli had gone off to join the ponies. It was just him and Liliane now. In the vast entirety of the Human Masada, it was just him... and Liliane. Alone, in a walled fortress of empty mansions.

Stefan Bettencourt walked the length of the enormous fortress. It had been built in a day, he had been informed. Magic. An army of royal unicorns and top-level spells. The side of a mountain had conveniently reformed itself into a hundred and one buildings and a massive, thick wall.

On day two, earthponies did all the gardening. Bettencourt stared up at a two-hundred foot tall tree that stood on a small island in the middle of the stone canal that divided the masada. Little bridges led to the decorative island, where pleasant benches stood among the flowers. It had all been grown in one, single day.

Stefan shook his head. Hands. Fingers. Technology.

This magic, this programmable thaumatic energy was a vastly superior technology to anything humanity had ever developed. Or ever would have developed. All the stuff had run out. That is what killed the earth. The stuff ran out. Fuel and metals and gasses increasingly difficult to extract, requiring more and more energy to dig or pump out than what was gained. A death spiral of ever increasing consumption, a planet more pit mine than flat land.

Entropy. Man had always been doomed by entropy, by stuff running out. Life, materials, time.

And along comes these ponies, these horrible aliens, and they have it all. A universe where nothing ever runs out, but is replenished over time. Where rocks grow from sand, where trees can be grown in a day, where even the life force itself cannot be lost. Extropy. Alien beings from a universe of extropy. A fairyland of neverending surplus. Post-scarcity was too pale a term.

And that is what Stefan Bettencourt hated the most. He kicked the magically grown tree. Not hard. He didn't want to have to beg some goddamn unicorn to mend a broken toe.

In the old universe, in Mundis, on earth, scarcity meant that a man could become a god by collecting and defending the biggest pile of stuff. That was earthly life, and the glory of Man defined. He who ruled was he with the most stuff. Or at least the most control over stuff, which amounted to the same thing. It took fire. It took a killer will and a predator's spirit.

On earth, you were poor if you cared more about people than power. The equation was simple, the truth absolute. Stuff was survival - it was a material world and there was never enough of anything to go around.

Stefan Albrecht Bettencourt had been born, bred and raised to be the ultimate human predator, and he was proud of it. He had risen to the highest position possible, above presidents and ministers, above kings, above emperors, above god - he had become the commander in chief, the chief executive officer of the corporation of Mankind itself.

And now it was gone.

Gone like the earth. Stefan moved away from the tree, shuffling along the too-perfect cobblestones. Gone like the old universe of struggle and never enough. Gone like all the old books and movies about tough men with guns and swords and bombs taking what was rightfully theirs through force of arms and strength of conviction.

There was nothing to conquer in Equestria. Stefan walked through the entrance of the Muleskinner Club. The door had been left open, already autumn leaves were scattered inside the empty, dark building. The season had just changed, and the pegasai were working extra hard to produce winds so that seeds could find new ground to fall on, and spores could drift and so alien leaves could invade a human space.

Bettencourt had lived to reach the top. In Equestria that spot was filled, forever and ever, by immortal goddesses. Trying to control material goods was pointless. Gold? Any earthpony could go out in the desert and begin growing gold ore into mountains of the stuff. Jewels? The same problem. Food? Pork bellies? - they were all vegetarian!

There had been only one path to rulership, one commodity that Man could control here that the ponies couldn't do better.

Life and death. Ponies could be hurt, ponies could be killed. They didn't die forever, apparently, but death still meant parting, and it still hurt. Man could inflict suffering, which was always the foundation of every empire, and every law. Orders and commands meant nothing without a man with a gun or a sword or a fist to insist on obedience. All power derives from suffering - whether through denial of stuff, or denial of life and limb.

It would have worked. That pony bitch had taken the power to kill and to hurt from Man in that damn Covenant, but... the diamond dogs were free. They had gotten in by themselves, they had sneaked into Equestria somehow, and Celestia hadn't been able to put governors on them. They learned quickly, and they ate meat. The dogs had loved using the guns. It made them feel powerful.

If things had worked out, Bettencourt had enjoyed visions of the dogs dressed in Napoleonic uniforms, parading around his castle. His palace. Lord Bettencourt of Humanestria.

It had all gone south the moment that bitch, that filth, Sloane, Sloane Cameron decided she wanted bacon now. It wasn't hers to have. All the bacon was his to give or withhold. Sloane had let a diamond dog kill a pig with a gun, because she refused to believe in animal souls. That betrayal had ended any hope of a human empire within Equestria.

Stefan searched the cabinet for liquor. Nothing, the bastards. They drank it all. Probably while making the decision to leave, to go pony. Rats leaving a sinking ship. Rats, not men, not ponies, the lot of them.

Adam and Eve. That was who he and Liliane were, now. The bible had gotten it wrong - actually, the bible had gotten everything wrong. Revelations had no pony paradise in it. But it had gotten its books out of order. Stefan laughed, leaning on the bar, in the dim light. The bible needed to be read in reverse. It didn't begin with Adam and Eve, it ended with them. In the garden. In the garden.

In the forest.

Stefan Bettencourt left the bar, and began to walk, then run, back to his mansion. Before he had exited the Muleskinner, he stopped to grab one of the scrolls from the little box over the mantle. Nobody had bothered to summon Celestia this year, or last year for that matter, so she contractually had to appear. Adam and Eve.

Stefan's heart beat fast as he ran, his eyes sparkling with the rush of decision and the triumph of Will.

"How canst YOU, who do profess to cherish life so, who doth cleave to law and reason above even thine own land and sun, countenance such as this?" Tiny flecks of foam, an uncommon sight, dotted Luna's muzzle.

Since her return, it was rare for the night princess to display open anger toward her sister. The lesson of centuries past weighed always upon her, and the knowledge of her own weakness of temper was a constant shame. Just as an obsessive clutching at order was her sister's wound from the time of Discord, so anger and impatient desperation was hers.

Luna turned away from her sister. She knew that look too well, the look on her sister's muzzle. "Madness and delirium be this, and the wail of spoiled foals!" The nocturnal diarch suddenly turned back to face Celestia. "No goodly parent thee, to encourage thy foals to gallop into the very throat of hungry doom!"

Celestia waited for the fire to lessen in her sibling's eyes before she finally spoke. "Luna... they are not foals. They are adults and more than this - they are peers. Their choice is not ours to take from them, whatever we may think."

"PEERS?" Luna was aghast. "Speak thou not such drivel, sister! These hoofless, churlish, dog-hearted, fustilarian, beslubbering, motley-minded, fen-sucked, loggerheaded, ill-nurtured, artless and errant, tardy-gaited, clapper-clawed, guts-griping, miscreant, pottle-deep onion-eyed jackanapes NAY ARE PEERS!"

Celestia dug a small furrow in the soil of the path. She kindly waited for her younger sister to regain herself. "I hear that you care, and that this bothers you deeply, I truly do hear you." The solar diarch raised her head and studied her sister's troubled expression. "You begged me not to keep my promise, to just once let something go. You warned me that the humans would be a greater danger than dragons, and more temperamental than griffons. You suffered for my determination to save these creatures. I know it has been so very hard on you."

Luna looked almost as if she might cry.

"Yet, when the time came, you were there for me, fully involved." Celestia looked down at her little furrow. "You became their champion, even more than I in some ways. Where I became weary of the humans, you seemed to find in them something sympathetic, something that clearly moved you deeply. I must always keep my promises, and so I have, but you truly had love for these strange beasts. I acknowledge this.

"But sister, Luna..." Celestia once again fixed her eyes on those of her quietly weeping sibling. "Stefan and Liliane were the royalty of their world. Their place in the weft of things was, in human terms, the same as ours. In that one respect, they are truly peers."

"You are sending them to their death. You know that. How can you do that?" Luna was crying now, and the loss of all pretense of royal speech made the night princess's quiet words seem louder than her previous outburst.

Celestia pressed close, and embraced her little sister with her neck and shoulder. "I could ponify them. I could change them, against their will, and they would be happy for it. They would awaken from their arrogance and madness, and they would weep with shame at their previous petulance and pride. They would thank us both for saving them from themselves, and rightfully too. What they are doing truly is nothing more than a fatal foal's tantrum."

Luna's head was tucked close, her cheek warm against her sister's barrel. "Then do it. Let me do it. Please, sister. Please."

Celestia sighed. "You know I cannot, because I am bound by agreement. I know you find that reason insufficient, and it is true that in this case it is discompassionate, even despicably cruel. But, Luna, if I do not honor their choice here, how am I different than our brother who took all choice away?"

"You are not Discord! You will never become Discord! It's not the same thing!" Luna was crying again.

"It is the same thing, to me." Celestia gently rubbed her head against her sister. "Either I honor the free will of my subjects, or I do not. Ponification must be a choice, and so we must accept when that choice is rejected. I have to live with this fact."

"Thou dost maketh me also to live with this choice of thine." Luna sniffed. "And that isn't fair."

"I... I know. I'm sorry."

Luna stepped back and stared at her older sister with intense, wounded eyes. "Wouldst thou call us rebel and traitor should we take our own conscience and save these humans from their own folly? Thy promise was to save humanity, yet here thou dost see fit to watch it perish without reason or hope of survival. What then, if we choose to fulfill thy promise for thee, if thy hoof be so truly bound? Wouldst thee make lunar aspect of us again for such?"

"LUNA!" Celestia was visibly hurt, and instantly the princess of the night felt shame for her words.

"Tia... I... I'm sorry... I..."

Celestia shook her head, her glowing mane of thaumatic force rippling like a flame. "No. No, Luna, shhh, shhh... It is I who should be sorry. I put you in this place, I'm the reason you have to even deal with it at all."

The two immortal sisters stood silently for a while.

"In answer..." Celestia studied her little furrow again. "...no. I would not do anything at all to you. Not ever again. I can never bear to make that choice again." Celestia looked up and tried to smile. "Which is why I have to depend on you to make whatever choice you think is right, even if I disagree with it, and trust in the good heart of my beloved sister."

The chariot was circling overhead. The pegasai pulling it followed the pointing hand of the human male. The chariot made a pass over the forest, over the Everfree, before arcing back towards where the princesses stood. Both regents watched in silence as the pegasus chariot came in for a landing, and finally to a stop.

"Come to see us off. Glad to be rid of us, I expect!" Stefan Bettencourt seemed to be in a jolly mood. If he was afraid, as he should be, he did not show it. Neither did his wife, Liliane.

"Greetings, chief executive officer Bettencourt, missus Bettencourt." Celestia gave a slight bow with her neck. "Welcome to the entrance of the Everfree forest."

"Oh, look, it's Luna!" Liliane Bettencourt held out her hand, unthinkingly, then withdrew it. "Sorry. It is very good to see you again, princess." Luna could not discern any falseness to the statement. Either it was true, or Liliane Bettencourt was astonishingly consummate at the art of diplomacy.

"So, ready for a little stroll, my dear?" Stefan took his wife's arm. Neither of them were dressed for survival in a dangerous chaotic zone of distressed reality. Stefan wore his finest suit, Liliane a dress appropriate to an ambassadorial gathering.

"Stefan Bettencourt! This we do say is madness on thy part!" Luna stared deeply into the human's small eyes. "Yon Everfree is no place for strolling, but rather for running, and if needful, hiding. Thou art not prepared for such excursion, neither art thee weighed down with sustenance and drink! We see not any shelter or bedding in thy keeping, nor tool nor even pillow for thy head." Luna brought her face close to that of the little man before her. "Thy progress is folly and death. Save thy mare and thyself, Stefan Bettencourt! I would make of thee both proper citizens and welcome thee with open hooves."

Luna pulled back, her eyes pools of sadness. "We beg thee."

"Nothin' doing, right sweetheart?" Stefan pulled his wife closer. Liliane nodded, assenting. "See, princess, me and the missus here are going to go into that forest there. You know why?"

Luna shook her head. The act was incomprehensible. It was suicide. There wasn't even a word in Equestrian for suicide.

Stefan grinned. "Because that isn't Equestria in there. I've been studying. The Everfree is a scar on reality itself, it's a place other than your realm. It's a land apart, one that you can't control, and one that you and your sister don't hold sway over. It's free for the taking, a fresh new land to conquer. I figure it's Eden, in there. The Garden Of Eden, and I'm Adam, and this is my wife Eve." Stefan laughed. "Say hello, Eve!"

Liliane giggled. "Hello!"

"Now I reckon that anything can happen in there. That's what I've heard, anyway." Stefan studied the dark, gloomy forest. "Anything. Things you don't know about. Things you can't explain. Things even you and your sister don't understand. I look at that forest, and you know what I see?"

Luna could only stand and watch. A tear trickled down her cheek.

"I see a fixer-up opportunity! I see empire, I see a new start for Mankind. Adam and Eve, starting over, fresh, in the Garden of Eden. You wouldn't know about that. It's not for ponies, no offense."

Luna nodded. Not once did either Stefan, or Liliane, show the slightest fear. For all her insults, Luna knew the humans weren't stupid. The two understood the truth, yet they acted like this. It was insane, yes, but it was also courageous in a way that no Equestrian had ever been.

Finally, Luna found words. At first they were halting, but they grew stronger. "Thou... thou art old. Sixty and more in the years of vanished earth thou art, and thou hast not even a cane to support thee."

Liliane Bettencourt smiled. "We had our ova and sperm stored until we were ready to have..." For a moment, she looked away. "We'll manage."

"We would give thee a gift in parting, Bettencourts. We offer thee renewed youth. If truly thou dost intend to brave the Everfree, grant us leave to give unto thee stout limbs and a strong heart to face it with." Tears ran nakedly down the muzzle of the princess of the night.

Stefan conferred with his wife. "As long as you don't turn us into ponies, we don't see any harm in that. We accept, graciously."

Celestia watched, as Luna's long horn shimmered with silvern light. Ribbons of force licked like tongues over the two humans, and decades of decay melted away. It was a blatant, untenable violation of the Covenant, of law and order and propriety, but Celestia had just given her word to her sister that she would do nothing. The transgression ate at her, burned her, but Celestia bit her lip and forced herself to remain still.

Luna withdrew her power. "It is done. Blessed be thou in body and spirit, and may thy days be long and good."

Liliane gave a small bow. "Thank you princess."

"I think it's time, Liliane. We're wearing out our welcome." Stefan Bettencourt, the last man in Equestria, held the hand of his wife, the last woman. "I should probably say something, shouldn't I? Propriety must be maintained, after all."

Stefan cleared his throat, and then recited "What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason, how infinite in faculty! In form and moving how express and admirable! In action how like an Angel! In apprehension how like a God!"

"Just lovely. I always did enjoy your speaking voice." Liliane squeezed her husband's hand. It felt young.

"Good day, princesses. Celestia. Luna." Stefan nodded a farewell, and then he and his wife stepped forward upon the rough, pebbly trail.

The two last humans stopped, briefly, at the boundary of the forest. They looked at each other, and then marched ahead, as if they were going on a picnic.

A few minutes later, the forest enveloped them, and the only thing that remained were their shoe prints in the dirt.

Celestia and Luna, and the team of Pegasai stood and silently stared after the passing of the Bettencourts for some time.

Eventually, Celestia directed the chariot team to return to Canterlot. For some time, after they left, Celestia stood where the chariot had been, and studied her sister from a distance. Luna cried, softly, but in time, the storm passed.

"Comest thee home, dearest Luna, thy hearth and bed await thee, and good ponies all to cheer thy wounded heart." Celestia's sad eyes followed her sister as she approached.

"You... you should talk like that more often." Luna pressed herself into her sister. "It was nice to hear."

"I love you, little sister."

"I love you too."

A brilliant gold and silver light fought the very sun for a few moments, and when the brilliance faded to a point and vanished, the path was empty, and open, and only the impressions of hooves and shoes remained.

The End

The Lost In The Herd Series:
One: The Big Respawn,
Two: Euphrosyne Unchained,
Three: Letters From Home,
Four: Teacup, Down On The Farm

The Conversion Bureau Novels:
27 Ounces: A story of eight and one half ponies
The Taste Of Grass
The Conversion Bureau: Code Majeste
The Conversion Bureau: The 800 Year Promise
The Conversion Bureau: Going Pony
The Reasonably Adamant Down With Celestia Newfoal Society!
Recombinant 63: A Conversion Bureau Story
HUMAN in Equestria: A Conversion Bureau Story
The PER: Michelson and Morely
Little Blue Cat
Cross The Amazon
Adrift Off Fiddler's Green: The Final Conversion Bureau Story

The Short Stories:
Her Last Possession
The Conversion Bureau: PER Equitum
The Conversion Bureau: Brand New Universe
Tales Of Los Pegasus
The Poly Little Pony

The very first and original
Conversion Bureau Group
archives only the best Three Rules Compatible stories!

Optimalverse Works:
Friendship Is Optimal: Caelum Est Conterrens
Leftovers: A Friendship Is Optimal Story
IMPLACABLE
My Life In Fimbria

Injectorverse Works:
I.D. - That Indestructible Something

The More Conventional Fanfics:
The Ice Cream Pony Summer
Around The Bend

PRIDE related works:
Transspecieality

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Rare, personally chosen anime, SF and fantasy television, movies, and comedy music. A truly unusual collection to listen to, featuring Spot Announcer Dr. Sandi - and many more!

1. The Pony In The Garden

The Conversion Bureau

HUMAN

in Equestria
By Chatoyance

The Pony In The Garden

The pony crept, it scuttled from bush to tree. It was trying not to be seen, but the poor creature simply had no experience in the matter. When Petra waved, it froze with wide eyes, its tiny, frightened pupils staring back.

It was then that Petra noticed that the pony had a companion. Just in front of the mysterious, trespassing pony was a bunny. The bunny looked nothing like the ones Petra had seen holographs of. The bunny looked more like a fairy tale bunny, from a cartoon or a story book. Like the pony, it wore a old-fashioned top hat, though much smaller of course, so as to fit the smaller head of a bunny. The bunny also wore a cape, which Petra thought was both adorable, and very funny.

The pony, still frozen, staring back at her, was dressed in what looked like the jacket of a circus ringmaster, with large dark cuffs and shiny buttons that gleamed in the moonlight. The little bunny's ears flopped to one side, which also moved its little top hat, through which its ears had been stuck. Then the bunny seemed to sigh, and waved back with a little fuzzy paw.

Petra did not care how the pony and the bunny had managed to get past the big, thick wall that surrounded the Human Masada. She did not care that her mother would not approve, nor would any of the other members of the Masada. For the last four and a half years since she had been moved to Equestria, this was the first pony - and absolutely the first bunny - she had ever seen. More than anything in all the new world, Petra Alice Bettencourt wanted to meet that pony and that bunny.

Petra smiled her biggest, toothiest smile, like her mother had made her practice, and mimed with her hands frantically - 'In here! You'll be safe in here!' and hoped the pony and the bunny would understand.

The arched window could be opened, rotated around a central spindle to allow fresh air in. Petra scrambled to push open the side of the semicircular port, noting that the pony in the top hat had not run away.

"PSSST! Hey! Do you need a place to hide?" Ponies weren't generally allowed inside the Masada, because they got upset or shocked too easily. Petra's mother didn't approve of the ponies at all, and disliked them intensely. She used to hate them, and want them all dead, but that had changed when they had moved to Equestria. Now, she just really, really, really didn't like them around her. If mother found a pony in her yard, behind the wall, Petra was afraid of what might happen.

The pony in the top hat looked at her bunny friend. The bunny nodded.

"Yes! Please!" With that, the fancily dressed pony and her fluffy companion approached. "How... how do we get up there?"

Petra's bedroom was on the second floor of the huge Tudor-styled mansion. She liked to climb, and had set a very long ladder, one that the dog servants used to pick apples with, at an angle to reach the roof. Because of the way she had set it, it was almost a ramp as much as a ladder. Petra leaned out of her window, and pointed. The pony nodded, and let the bunny climb onto her back. Then she galloped for the tilted ladder.

The pony ran up the ladder to the roof with an astonishing agility. It was easier for the pony that it was for Petra, and she was very impressed. The pony then followed the edge of the roof until she came to the inset where Petra's bedroom window was. Petra stepped back and allowed the pony and bunny to enter.

The pony in the top hat and tails stared with wide eyes at her rescuer. The little bunny jumped down from the pony's back and stood in front of the chestnut filly, trying to look brave.

Finally, the pony whispered "Thank you." Her eyes were still large as dinner plates in the moonlight from the window. Slightly afraid, she added "F-for helping us."

Petra realized she must be staring as much as the pony in front of her, because her eyes stung. She blinked a few times, to let her tears wash over them. Suddenly, all of her years of charm training became insistent. "How do you do?" She found herself saying, mechanically. "My name is Petra Alice Bettencourt, daughter of Stefan Bettencourt, the CEO of Mankind and the head of the Good Families, and I am very pleased to make your acquaintance!" She had curtsied before she could manage to stop herself. Only then did Petra realize that she was shaking slightly.

The pony blinked, apparently unaccustomed to such formality. Much to Petra's surprise, however, the pony was not a stranger to it. "Hello to you too! Please let me introduce myself and my companion. I am Plantain Acres, Honorary Professor of Bunny Terpsichory and Arachnid Syncopation for the Royal Equestrian Happy Pony Show, and this is my friend and partner, Crème Bûnnée, Dance Master of the Royal Equestrian Happy Pony Show and HainRah of the Lapine Theatre Company. I am likewise most pleased to make your acquaintance as well!"

The young human girl stood rigid, staring once again at the impressively titled pony and bunny. The pony stared back, equally formal and official in her stance. The bunny sat back, as tall as she could be, and grandly saluted.

A small smile began to form on the stunned human girl's face.

A grin began to form on the muzzle of the pony.

The bunny looked from one to the other, unsure of what was going on.

Petra couldn't hold it in any longer, she was laughing at the absurdity of such dire formality in the middle of the night, after such sneaking about. Her mirth was echoed by the pony, Plantain, who began snickering and then laughing out loud. This only made Petra lose the last of her restraint altogether, and soon both pony and human girl were on the floor sobbing with laughter.

Crème, completely confused, tried saluting again, first to Petra, and then to her mistress, but this only seemed to make the pony and the human laugh harder.

"Oh... oh my goodness... oh dear... 'Honorary Professor of Bunny Terpsica... Terpsic..." Petra wiped her eyes.

"Terpsichory!" Plantain used a fetlock to dry her own tears of laughter. "And Arachnid Syncopation!"

"Sin-co-what?" Petra had become a terrible student since the move to Equestria. It had quite upset her mother, who had been forced to take over her education because of the lack of any human servant to do it.

"Syncopation. It's a fancy word for rhythm. We use all kinds of fancy words for things in the theatre. Mr. Paine told me that it's traditional. I'm an entertainer!" Plantain lifted herself from the floor on one foreleg and used the other to do a bow-like gesture.

"Mr. Paine?" Petra looked from pony to bunny, unsure which was more adorable to look at.

"Mr. Royal Paine, Owner, and Producer of the Happy Pony Show. He's our leader. He started the whole thing." Plantain looked sad. "We used to travel all over Equestria together. I miss them all so very much."

Petra wanted to reach out and pet or comfort the pony, but stayed her hand. Ponies weren't pets, she reminded herself. They were people, and one didn't pet people as one would a dog or a cat. "Did... did the show end?"

Plantain Acres shook her head. "Oh no! They're all still touring and putting on shows. They're all out there somewhere right this moment, probably doing second encores by the look of the sky. It's me who got ended. That's why I am running away. Because my mom doesn't want me to be a performer."

"You're running away?" Petra tried to encompass the idea, but it was slippery, and hard to grasp. "Away from... from home? From your home?" It was unthinkable. Proper young ladies of the world elite were expected to act always with decorum and propriety. The Family was First, the Family was All. To run... away. To just... leave? How could that even happen?

"Oh yes! My mother wants me to go to some overly proper etiquette school in Canterlot and become some kind of fancy, proper pony. She has this whole future set out for me - first I go to several sniffy schools, then when I'm all la-de-dah, I'm supposed to swish my tail at the most important stallion I can find and become his 'Plus One'. Mom's always wanted to be somepony important, and she's trying to get me to do it instead. Only I don't wanna."

It was so bizarre. Petra could hardly believe that she wasn't dreaming. There was a pony, a real live pony, right there, in her bedroom, and they were talking just like two human girls about... stuff. "What do you wanna... want... to do?"

"Go back to the Happy Pony Show, of course!" The expression on Plantain's muzzle indicated that this should have been beyond obvious. "I love being a performer! It's the bestest ever thing ever!" She turned to her lapine companion. "Isn't it Crème?"

Crème nodded so hard her milk-white ears hit the floor with soft flups. The bunny sat back and used a tiny paw to straighten its miniature top hat.

Petra pondered this. It really was most curious. "But... but your mother forbade you to be a performer!"

Plantain laughed. "Duh! I already am, though! I've been to all sorts of places, and put on hundreds of shows. My bunnies and spiders are famous all over Equestria, and quite a few places beyond. Crème and I were even asked to do an encore for the king of the Diamond Dogs!"

Petra's head was swimming. Everything she had heard was ever so strange, and some of it was puzzling, and the rest made her heart beat fast. Especially the idea of just... leaving. She'd never been allowed such a thought, before. It just wasn't something a Bettencourt would do. Why her father, he would - she couldn't even imagine how he would react.

From her earliest memory, Petra had been taught that she was a member of a species apart from the common rabble of humankind. She was a member of the proper class, the true humans, the heirs and rightful owners of the Earth. It was her place to act in accord with her station and kind, just as it was the place of her lessers to serve her and the Good Families that ran the world.

"How old are you?" Petra had been taught that the ponies lived much longer than humans did, and they had much longer childhoods too. She had assumed that Plantain was just a child, like herself, because the pony was small compared to the few that Petra had been allowed to see. Also, Plantain had been sneaking about in a funny costume, and had a little bunny as a pet. Adults never did such things. But Plantain seemed to have done a great deal of very complex and adult-seeming things.

"I'm a filly, just like you!" The yellow-maned earthpony grinned with pride. "See, I know about you humans! I know how to tell a human filly from a grown-up mare. I read up all about your kind before I came up this way. I was hoping I might see a human my age, and now I've even gotten to meet one!"

"You've never met a human before?" That might explain the big round eyes earlier, Petra thought.

"Nope! You keep to yourself inside the walls, doncha? How come, anyway?" Plantain tilted her head, and one of her ears twitched. Petra found that fascinating. She couldn't twitch her human ears.

"My mother says..." Petra closed her mouth. She didn't want to offend miss Plantain the pony. "My mother doesn't... approve... of ponies. And the other members of the Families think we should keep... apart... because we eat meat and because we shouldn't associate with our les..." Again, Petra held her tongue. "...because there might be problems." It wasn't exactly a lie, it was essentially the truth, but it was much more polite, and a Bettencourt was always polite.

"We do have diamond dog servants, though!" Petra felt afraid she had come across as being bigoted against ponies, and she absolutely wasn't. In fact, she very, very, very wasn't, but her mother was in her words and what she had said hadn't come out right at all. "I like ponies very much!" There, that was better.

"You really do look sort of like skinny diamond dogs..." Plantain studied the human girl in front of her for a moment. "Do you have a tail? I can't tell."

Petra laughed. "No, silly! Humans don't have tails!" Then she remembered. "Well, sometimes, rarely, humans are born with tails, but they chop them right off!"

Plantain winced. "They... chop off... their tails?"

The little bunny, Crème, put her paws over her eyes at the thought.

Petra felt confused. "Well, yes. Humans aren't supposed to have tails. When they do, it's a mistake, so they get rid of them immediately. At least all the proper people do. In the old favelas, back on earth, they probably didn't bother." Petra fell silent, sad at that thought. She had never actually seen a human person with a tail, and she felt jealous at the thought of the worker class who got to keep theirs. "Well, you see..." Petra struggled to remember how it went. "Ahem. 'They tell us that, we lost our tails, evolving up, from little snails!'" Petra finished her measured recitation with as much dignity as she could and smiled a proper Bettencourt smile.

Plantain gave Crème a comforting nuzzle, then raised her head. "Petra, would it be alright for us to hide out here for a day or two? My mom will be out looking for me, and there aren't many places to hide on this side of Canterlot Mountain. I know she wouldn't dare look for us here."

The weight of what she had done in allowing a pony into her room finally struck Petra. She had been so desperately wanting to make friends with a pony for so very long that she had simply acted without thinking. But the fact was that Plantain and her bunny were here now, and it would be terribly rude to ask them to leave. A Bettencourt is never rude, unless it pays to be so. But the truth was that she really didn't want the pony or the bunny to go away, now that her long wished-for dream had come true.

"Yes, you may stay!" Petra announced, grandly. "But we must be very careful for mother to never see you. Father must not know you are here either. No one at all must know you are hiding here. I do not wish to get into trouble, and I do not wish you to get into trouble either. So we must keep you a secret. Agreed?" Petra stuck out her hand, in order to shake on the contract. Only after she had done this, did it occur to her that Plantain had no hands, only hooves.

Plantain stuck out a foreleg. Petra looked at it, then gently grasped the hoof in her hand. It was hard and smooth and she felt her heart beating very rapidly. For four and a half years she had wanted to properly meet an ordinary pony, a pony that wasn't Celestia, a pony that wasn't just waving her parents through a gate, or standing at a distance. Now, for the very first time, she had touched a real Equestrian.

She thought of her holoshow, her favorite show, before they had left and moved to Equestria. The show about the newfoals who got to become ponies. Petra held the hoof in her hand for a long time, feeling the hardness, the warmth from the leg part at the top of the hoof, and marveled at it.

"Are... you okay?" Plantain was studying Petra's flat, hairless face.

Embarrassed, Petra let go of the pony's hoof and mechanically affected the standard Bettencourt smile while sitting up properly. "Yes! And you?" Her voice had squeaked a little and this further embarrassed her.

"That was the first time you've ever touched a pony, isn't it?" Plantain offered a very small, kind smile. "It's the first time I've ever touched a human! I guess we're both real, then!"

That made Petra laugh. "I guess so!" At that, a large number of rules about hospitality came into Petra's mind. "Oh! I'm sorry! I've been very rude." There were many proper things to do when a guest visited, and even though Plantain had been sneaking about in the garden, and had crawled in through the window, she was still a guest because Petra had invited her in. "Would you like some tea, or something to eat?" One must always offer food and drink to a guest.

Plantain shook her head. "No, thank you though. Crème and I had something just before we went under the wall. Actually, it might be wise to find a place for us to hide, if we're not supposed to be seen. It'll be morning soon, and if you humans live anything like we ponies do, your mom will probably be knocking at the door calling for breakfast."

"Oh!" Petra realized she hadn't actually gotten any sleep at all, and that morning would bring all sorts of problems. "You are right! Hmm..." Petra thought for a bit. "You can stay in the south wing, nobody goes there. We all stay in the north part of the house, and just on these two floors. You can hide on the third floor, and nobody will ever find you. Just don't make too much noise, alright?"

"That sounds perfect! And we'll be quiet. Crème is always silent, and I'll just whisper and be careful. How about that?"

Petra nodded. "In the morning I will bring you some food and drink for your breakfast. It may take a little while, but I won't forget!"

"That would be wonderful. Thank you, Petra." Plantain considered the offer for a moment. "Um... no meat. Please."

"I know! Ponies don't eat meat." Petra carefully, quietly got to her feet, preparing to guide her two guests cautiously to the south wing. "Could I ask you a question, Plantain?"

Plantain was now on her hooves, with Crème holding tight to her back. "Of course, you can ask me anything."

"Do you... have you ever heard of a pony - a newfoal - named Sunshine Laughter?" Petra noted the sky getting faintly brighter through the open window. "Or Rose Vale?"

The top-hatted filly thought for a few seconds. "I've met a LOT of ponies, and a lot of newfoals among them, but I've never met either of those ponies. Are they friends of yours?"

"No! No... of course not..." Mother would approve of having a newfoal friend even less than having a native pony friend, and mother despised ponies. If she had gotten her way, only the Good Families would have emigrated to Equestria, and all the lessers would have been left behind to die with the Earth. They wouldn't have been ponified like Sunshine and Rose on their show. Still, Sunshine and Rose felt almost like friends to Petra. They were probably the closest thing she had ever had to having friends - even if they were just two people on a holoshow.

"Sort of." A Bettencourt always tells the truth to a peer. Mother would have a fit, but Petra couldn't - wouldn't - think of Plantain as a lesser. "They are almost friends."

The little pony was entirely puzzled by this. "Almost friends?"

"There was a show I liked, a show about newfoals, and Sunshine and Rose were in it, they were the show, really, and... and they were... they were my best friends... inside my heart." Petra had no better way to state things, and left it at that.

"You never met them? They never met you?"

Petra shook her head. "It was a show. On the holo! I had the entire set, before. Of course, I couldn't bring it with me, holos don't work in Equestria." The little human girl looked sad for a moment. "I miss them."

Plantain turned her head to nuzzle Crème on her back. "I guess humans are a lot more loving than I ever imagined. They can make best friends with ponies they've never even met!"

"Come on, we had better get you to your room before we get caught." Petra made cautiously for the door, then stopped and turned back to put a finger to her lips. "Shhhhh!!!"

2. A Curiously Unsettling Breakfast

The Conversion Bureau

HUMAN

in Equestria
By Chatoyance

A Curiously Unsettling Breakfast

When the Good Families had all moved to Equestria, their lives changed tremendously. For the first time ever, Petra regularly saw her mother and her father. She saw her father at breakfast, and at dinner too. She saw her mother not only at those times, but often in the middle of the day as well. It was somewhat uncomfortable and awkward for all of them.

Petra, when she had lived on earth, had been raised and cared for by servants that her father's personal administrator chose for her. None of the servants had been allowed to stay for longer than a year. This was to prevent Petra from becoming attached to any of them, and also to protect Petra. The longer a staff member was retained, the greater the chance that they could be discovered, contacted, and potentially used by enemies to abduct or harm her.

Father had explained all of this multiple times to Petra, about how his family members made him vulnerable, and why such care had to be taken to protect those that mattered to him. Father was constantly away, being very busy running the world, so his visits, when they occurred, were short. The activities he chose always centered around something fun, and consistently presented him in the best possible light.

Now, sitting at breakfast, Petra was faced with the reality of her father, and of her mother too, in ways she had never imagined.

In Antarctica, Father and Mother had been godlike, perfect beings, always immaculately dressed and coiffured - elegant creatures that spoke gently and warmly to each other and especially to Petra. They appeared to her only occasionally as their complex schedules allowed. When she had been very young, Petra had imagined that her parents were Fairies, like out of the animated pages of her smartpaper books. Fairy parents that were always just... perfect.

In Equestria, Father was very different, and often difficult. He kvetched about the mansion, he grumbled about the diamond dog servants, he went on and on about the future of the Families and worried endlessly about things Petra couldn't understand. He also complained grievously about the princesses, and most especially about the Covenant with Celestia. Father was not immaculate and perfect anymore, nor was he always pleasant and fun. Father and Mother bitterly and angrily argued with each other much of the time. Late at night, they could sometimes be heard actually shouting at each other.

The first time this had happened, Petra had been so shocked that she had hid under her bed for an entire day. Only Craven, the head diamond dog butler, had been able to sniff her out. Petra had cleverly packed pillows doused with perfume around her just to foil such discovery. Petra hadn't known what she wanted at the time, other than to make herself somehow go away.

"Me bring tasty eggs and thick, juicy bacon, master!" Snivelina carried a large silver platter and set it down on the polished table. The diamond dog matron wore the apron and hat of a chef, as well as white pants and a white blouse. The Good Families were very insistent that all of their servants dressed appropriately whether they had fur or not. "Very good bacon, master, Grunthas pick pig who talk most. Smart pig make good bacon! Snivelina cook bacon good, not raw, make it way human like best!"

Stefan Albrecht Bettencourt, once the most powerful man on the entire planet Earth, looked down at the inhuman, supplicating beast that had brought his breakfast. Once his merest displeasure could mean changes on a planetary scale. Now his career consisted of a single country club and endless rounds of golf - all while suffering horrific, clawed monsters for staff.

Stefan examined the bacon. As the loathsome creature had claimed, it was not raw. In truth it was expertly cooked, but he was not in the mood to offer any of the praise the horrible little brute lived for. He sniffed, dismissively. "I thought Grunthas was my carriage driver."

Snivelina tilted her canid head to the side, much like an earthly dog, and looked puzzled. "But Grunthas is driver, master! Grunthas is one who kill pig that talk too much, not Grunthas."

"What?"

The diamond dog used her sharp claws to straighten her apron and hat, desperate to please her employer. "Master?"

"You said Grunthas butchered the pig and also was the carriage driver, and then you denied it." Stefan picked a slab of bacon and transferred it to his plate. He had no desire to have his food plated by a monster, it was better to do it on his own. As needs must, he reminded himself.

"I beg to disagree, Master! Snivelina not say Grunthas kill pig and drive carriage, Snivelina say Grunthas kill pig while Grunthas drive carriage!" The awkward animal twisted it's paws together in confusion. "Grunthas is good carriage driver! He work with brother Grunthas, who is good pawservant in carriage team."

The man who had once been the effective god emperor of Earth stared at the increasingly distressed little monstrosity and made the sort of decision that had propelled him to the top of the human hierarchy. "You know what?"

"What, great human master?"

"Shut up. Go away." Stefan's face was, as usual, emotionless. "Then bring me orange juice without saying a word, and when you have brought it, go away again."

Snivelina's ears drooped, and wringing her paws she backed away, unsure of what she had done to upset her beloved master. Her master had been the pack leader, the Alpha for an entire world! Snivelina would do anything for master.

Petra carefully moved a single fried egg to her plate. Once she was sure it was properly placed, she delicately moved a second egg to her plate. Then she gently lay down the utensils, and took her napkin, unfolded it, and placed it in her lap. At every step, she was cautious to move with precision and grace, as she had been taught.

"You did not take any bacon." Liliane, Petra's mother, said her words precisely and carefully, but there was no mistaking the tone. It was not a statement, nor a question. It was an accusation.

"I do not wish to have any bacon this morning, Mother." Petra sat carefully, knowing what was coming.

"You will have some bacon, Petra. Every morning you do not eat your bacon. At lunch, you do not eat either bacon or chicken, and at dinner you never eat any meat at all." Mother was particularly angry today, probably because Petra had failed to awaken promptly and had needed to be roused by Cruddles the maid. "You do not eat meat of any kind except for eggs, and this will not do. You are still clinging to that terrible obsession from Antarctica, but you are not a pony, you will never be a pony, and I will not have you eating like one."

Petra shrank slightly. Mother was on quite the tear.

"Take some bacon. Now." It was without question an order, one not to be disobeyed.

Petra did not want to eat bacon. The pigs could talk, and were ever so upset at being killed. Everything with hooves could speak and think in Equestria, yet neither Mother nor Father seemed to care. Petra did not want to visit her new pony friend smelling of murdered, fried pigs.

Petra worked up as much courage as she could, and prepared herself. "I do not wish to defy you Mother, but I truly do not wish to have any bacon today." Petra was shaking, but she had said what she truly felt.

The look in her mother's eyes was new, and thoroughly terrifying. "Petra Alice Bettencourt!" Mother said the words like the old artificial intelligence that had been the house in Antarctica. "You will take three pieces of bacon, you will put them on your plate, and then you will eat them. Do you understand?"

Petra could not meet her mother's eyes. She stared instead at her two fried eggs. Ponies ate eggs. Eggs couldn't talk or think. Eating eggs didn't hurt anything. "T-Thank you Mother, but I truly and genuinely do not wish to have any bacon today." Petra felt a tightness in her chest, or perhaps it was her belly, it was hard to tell. In any event, it felt dreadfully uncomfortable.

"How dare you!"

Petra kept her eyes firmly focused on her eggs. She was afraid to move, afraid to try to eat. She didn't even feel hungry anymore, because of the unpleasant feeling in her body.

Suddenly a slab of bacon slid violently onto her plate. Then another, and another. "Eat... your breakfast... Petra."

Looking up, she found her mother staring at her with eyes filled with suppressed rage and something else. Petra almost thought it might have been fear, except that Mother never felt fear. She looked down at her plate. The eggs had been ruined. They were now contaminated with the smell and grease of the poor pig that had been killed by Grunthas, the diamond dog who both hunted and managed the captive animals for the Bettencourts.

Petra felt tears forming. The greasy bacon sat there, on top of her eggs. Why was Mother being so cruel? Finally, quivering, Petra looked her mother in the eyes. "I truly do not wish to eat bacon."

Mother's pupils shrank, as she stared. "'You do not wish to eat bacon?'" Mother's voice was softly mocking, quietly angry. "You do not wish to eat bacon today? What about tomorrow? Will you eat bacon tomorrow? Just when will you eat bacon, Petra?"

Petra was shocked, and frightened, to see that her mother was shaking slightly.

"Just exactly when will you next eat bacon? I 'truly' want to know, Petra. I think you do realize that you are a human, and that you must eat meat to live. More than that, you are a Bettencourt. You are not some woggy little squalid favela worker shoving synthetic plant protein into your gullet. You are not one of those horrible, gaudy, rainbow beasts of the field that walk on hooves and mouth smug platitudes all day. You are the daughter of a proud family, an apex predator at the apex of human civilization... or what is left of it... and you. WILL. EAT. MEAT."

This was the first time Petra had ever heard her mother raise her voice to her. Mother was standing at the table, leaning over it, her hands white knuckled, fingers splayed wide as if they were claws. If they had been claws, Petra was certain that those fingers would be embedded deeply into the table.

"Enough." Father said the word quietly. Father only ever needed to speak quietly.

"Dear?" Mother looked almost as if she were coming out of a daze.

"If the child does not wish to eat bacon, then let her be. If there is any sign of her nutritional needs not being met, then something will be done. For now, let her enjoy her eggs." With that, Father got up from the table. "I will be at the club, as always. I expect peace and decorum in this house."

Mother sat down, and deliberately began concentrating on her own breakfast. Her hand shook slightly, and her lips pressed very hard together with every bite.

Stefan stopped at the door and turned back. "Petra?"

"Yes Father?" Petra looked at him nervously, uncertain whether his previous order would be changed.

"How old are you now?"

"I am thirteen, Father." Petra understood that her father was much too busy and important to remember things like her age or her birthday. Besides, such things were always taken care of by the servants anyway.

"Have you bled?"

The question was strange, and Petra was unsure what to make of it. She had no answer to give.

Her father waited. Seeing no response forthcoming, he took a step forward. "Petra, I need to know something. It is very important. Have you begun menstruating? Have you begun to bleed from between your legs?"

Oh! That was what he meant. Petra had been educated about her body early on, and about sex, and about what she should expect to happen as she entered puberty. She had been taught these things back on Earth. "No Father. I have not bled."

"Stefan?" The anger in Mother's voice had vanished. What was left was fear. Petra hadn't been imagining it.

Father turned to Mother, locking his eyes with hers. "Not one girl in all the Families has begun menstruating. They are growing up, their bodies are changing appropriately, but they do not bleed. When was the last time you had your period?"

"I... I haven't." Mother sat stunned, as if realizing something for the very first time.

"I think we have larger issues than whether our child will eat bacon." Father turned again and moved for the door. "I have called for a committee to look into this. I may be at the club until quite late. Ask around and see if the same is true with those in your circles."

Mother stood up after Father had left. "You... be a good girl today. I need to go visiting. Do not give any of the staff any trouble, and try to pay attention to your studies. I may not be here for lunch. You know what to do." Any of the fuss over bacon was entirely gone. Petra watched her mother leave the dining room.

It was simple after that to collect a nice platter of untainted eggs, bread, fruit and juice. Petra also dug into the magically powered cold larder and found some nice stalks of celery and some carrots too. Bunnies liked carrots, at least they did in story books.

With her heart beating with excitement, Petra snuck away from the dining hall and the kitchen without either Snivelina or Cruddles or even Craven noticing, and made her way to the north wing.

After she had climbed past the second floor, Petra needed to rest. She set the silver tray piled high with breakfast for her new friends down upon the landing. As her heart calmed from the climb, she still heard a faint beating, almost a pounding. It was quite vigorous, and Petra began to worry that her Equestrian guests had become trapped somehow, and were hammering the walls to be set free.

Taking up the silver platter, Petra climbed the remaining stairs as quickly as she could, nearly spilling the orange juice in the process. At the door to the third floor room, the thumping was quite complex and not at all subtle. Setting down the tray once more, Petra rushed to the handle and opened the door to the room.

Petra gasped in surprise. Plantain and her little bunny Crème were tap dancing all around the room. They had pushed the furniture to the side and had made use of the open area as an impromptu dance studio.

Plantain performed a double cramp roll, using all four of her hooves, and sounding for all of Equestria like a herd unto herself. She immediately switched into a paradiddle followed by a shuffle-hop-step and added several slurps and riffles when she noticed Petra watching her.

Crème supported the sound of hooves with a sequence of four beat paw shuffles and ended with a five-sound riff walk just as Plantain completed with a pullback, two brushes and a pickup.

"TA-DAHHH!" Plantain struck a marvelous pose, all four legs crossed, nonchalant yet debonair. The little bunny, Crème, finished at the same time, standing on her hind legs, leaning against Plantain's right foreleg as if it were a lamp post. As a final flourish, Crème gave her top hat a tip, so that it sat low over her eyes, giving her the appearance of peeking out from under the brim.

"Oh my!" Petra had known the two were performers, now she had seen a tiny bit of what they could do and she was very impressed. It was enough to imagine that a pony and a bunny might be able to dance, it was entirely a revelation that they could be so very good at it!

Petra clapped, indicating her pleasure and approval.

Plantain stepped forward at that and stared at Petra's clapping hands. Petra froze, unsure whether she had somehow insulted the yellow-maned Equestrian.

"Oh! I get it!" Plantain smiled broadly and winked. "That's how you humans clop your hooves! You liked it then?"

"Oh, ever so much!" Petra beamed, happy that her hand clapping had been understood. "I have never seen... well... a pony and a bunny dance before. You do it so well! You make it look effortless!"

"It's anything but. Crème and I have been practicing nearly every single day for the last six years. We were doing this sort of thing even before we joined Mr. Payne's show! We used to practice in my mother's kitchen, because there was a very nice floor there. She used to get pretty angry, especially after we brought in all of the other bunny dancers!"

"Other bunny dancers?" Petra had fetched and then set down the tray of breakfast in the middle of the floor. Then she sat down beside the tray. Since all of the furniture had been pushed to the side, it seemed the best thing to do.

"We had quite a growing troupe. 'Acres and Bûnnée, featuring the Banana Moon Dancers!'" Plantain immediately folded her legs and joined her lapine companion in unceremoniously savaging the eggs and toast.

"Banana Moon Dancers?" Petra felt glad to see that her offering was being so happily devoured.

"Mnn... yeah. My mom runs a banana plantation. Mnnn... Mnmph." Plantain swallowed some juice and continued eating. It was fairly clear that the pony and bunny were starved. Little Crème had practically submerged herself within the bowl of fruit, with only her top hat and cape indicating her current whereabouts. "Like my mom says, 'Ponies are bananas for bananas!'. I got tired of them a long time ago, myself."

"But...!" Plantain munched contentedly for a while. "If I hadn't been on the plantation, I would never have made friends with the banana spiders."

"Banana... spiders?" Petra shuddered. She had thought the talk about arachnid syncopation the previous night had been some kind of joke. "That must be simply horrid to deal with!"

"Well... they do drive a hard bargain." Plantain joined her long eared friend in munching fruit. "The spiders elected a manager, and he wanted thirty percent of the gross! No muffin way, I told him." Plantain drank some more juice, and then turned to finish off the toast. "Spiders are scary good at math. Real hard-ball with the percentages. They almost went on strike before our first big performance, but I kept my knees locked and in the end they relented." Plantain grinned. "No show, no pay at all. That caved 'em!"

"But... what would spiders do with money?" Petra felt her head swimming again, much as it had last night. It seemed that almost anything Plantain talked about eventually caused that feeling.

Plantain stopped and stared, as if surprised at the question. "Why... buy a homeland, of course! They're basically squatters on mom's plantation. They escaped the Everfree, and they don't want to go back. The spiders have been working hard to prove they aren't bad spiders, and that they deserve recognition. They even petitioned the princesses for a plantation of their own. The deal was that if they could honorably make the bits to purchase the land, that would prove they were civilized enough to join Equestrian society. I translated for them - Luna became their patron. Good thing she likes spiders!"

"Wow!" Petra was quite taken aback by all of this. Intelligent spiders who performed rhythm pieces petitioning for citizenship to the princesses no less! Equestria truly was a magical land. "I've met Celestia before. She spent six months with me, once. She used to nag me to brush my teeth!"

Now it was the pony's turn to be amazed. "What?" Plantain shook her head. "Princess Celestia, THE princess, spent six months living with you?" This had caught Crème's attention too, especially since all the fruit was gone.

"Oh yes. She came and lived with every member of the Good Families. Adults, children, even the babies. We all had Celestia living with us day and night." Petra sighed. "I miss her now. Sometimes I wish she was there, when I brush my teeth. I'd give anything to get to see her again like that."

"I have not heard about this before." Plantain sipped the last of the juice. "What do you mean she lived with all of you? Did you live in one big house?"

Petra laughed. "Oh no! Of course not! There are three hundred heads of the Families, and each has a wife and children. We'd never fit under one roof. Celestia made copies of herself, and gave each and every one of us one of them. Only we could see the copies, only the members of the Good Families could see them. They were like ghosts. They could talk, and we could see them, but all the Celestias could walk right through the wall! My Celestia used to tease me by standing in the middle of my bed!"

Plantain was goggle eyed at all of this. Crème's little bunny eyes nearly filled her face.

"Father was ever so cross about it all. Mother was driven nearly mad by it. All the adults complained and went on about how terrible it was. But I didn't think so at all, and neither did any of the other children in the Families." Petra leaned back on her arms, to rest her back. "I thought it was wonderful. Every night, Celestia would tell me a story or sing me to sleep. When I woke up, there she was, playing peek-a-boo by passing through the pillows. She used to keep me company and play with me too, and the guards couldn't do anything about it! Everyone thought we had all gone crazy at first, until Celestia explained it to them."

The little pony sat up and tried to grasp everything she had just heard. "Petra, why did the princess do all of this?"

Petra looked sad for a moment. "Because Father ordered the bombing of Equestria. It didn't hurt anything, but it certainly wasn't friendly. None of the Families wanted to allow ponification. They all wanted Celestia to go away. They wouldn't listen, no matter how nicely she explained that the world was going to end." Petra lay down on the floor, on her side, and looked at her new friends for a bit. "So Celestia made copies of herself, and sent them to every single one of us. For us kids, she was just wonderful. She was like having the best nanny ever!"

Plantain had toured Equestria, met Celestia and Luna many times, and seen things that most ponies would not believe. Yet this was the most extraordinary thing she had probably ever heard. "And... for the adults?"

"Oh, she was very, very cross with Father, and all the other adults. Father said she did the most terrible, awful thing that it was possible to ever do to a human being." Petra almost seemed to have stated that with pride.

"W-what did Celestia do to your Father and all the other adult humans?" Plantain had heard stories, stories she hadn't believed, about the maze garden in Canterlot, about how Celestia would do anything to protect her ponies and keep peace.

"Father told me that she showed them Truth."

15. The Six New Mornings: Ghosts And Flowers, Part One

The Conversion Bureau

HUMAN

in Equestria
By Chatoyance

The Six New Mornings: Ghosts And Flowers, Part One

Special thanks to my spouse Aedina for her assistance with historically accurate Elizabethan speech.

Isla looked in the bedroom. Her father wasn't there.

She had looked in the kitchen. Daddy wasn't in the kitchen. Isla had looked in the bathroom, but he wasn't there either. She had even checked the servant's quarters, but there wasn't a daddy in there at all. Spots and Whitepaw weren't there either. Isla called out for anyone. But nobody answered.

Isla didn't feel scared. That made her feel strange. She really should feel scared, with nobody at all around, but she didn't. It made her feel puzzled. Why didn't she feel afraid? She always felt afraid when there was nobody at all. That was because of the No-ghosts.

The No-ghosts were scary Nothings that her daddy was always upset about. He didn't want anybody else to know he was afraid of the No-ghosts, so he only talked about them when he was home. Daddy had realized that all of his talk about the No-ghosts was making Isla afraid. So he said he was sorry, and never talked about them again. Much.

But that didn't make the No-ghosts vanish. It was obvious that daddy was still afraid of them. So Isla was too.

Isla tried the front door of the Two-Door Mansion. She had always thought that was a silly name, because the Tudor Mansion had many more doors than just two. But that was what it was called. Isla opened the front door and stepped out onto the wide path. She looked to the left. There was the Bertarelli mansion. There was nobody there. Usually the dog servants worked on the lawn over there. Mr. Bertarelli was very fussy about his lawn. He was mean to his dogs about it. That was what Spots said.

Isla looked to the right. Down that way was the Hollande mansion. Sometimes Sara would talk to Isla. Not very often, and not very much, but sometimes. Once Sara had given her a cookie. It was a good cookie, with chocolate chips in it and everything. Sara's real name was 'Seraphina', but that was a long name, so she had said that Isla could just call her 'Sara'.

Sara wasn't there. Isla looked all around. Nobody was there. Where was everyone?

This made Isla have to sit down on the stones in the path. She traced her finger over the little gems in the stone. They sparkled in the sun. The more Isla thought about things, the more she felt strange about not feeling afraid. If there was ever a time the no-ghosts would get her, this would have to be it. She was as alone as alone could get. Yet she did not feel scared. Not even a little bit. She felt calm, like everything was okay. It just didn't make sense.

Isla looked up at the sun. She stared at it for a while. It didn't hurt to stare at it. Daddy had said that back on earth, staring at the sun would burn your eyes. But the sun in Equestria didn't do that. It was okay to stare at it all day long, and it wouldn't hurt at all. It was very, very bright.

Supposedly one of the princesses owned the sun. Her name was Celestia, and she was big and tall and had glowy stuff for hair. She wore a golden crown, too, just like a real princess. But daddy said she couldn't be a real princess because she was a pony. Only people could be princesses, not ponies. But secretly, Isla didn't agree. There were a lot of things Isla didn't ever tell daddy, because daddy would just talk and talk. If she wore a crown, and her name was princess Celestia, then she was a princess. It only made sense!

Daddy was not as smart as he thought he was, sometimes.

The other kids had gotten to see Celestia. The princess had even been their nanny and sung to them and told them stories and made them brush their teeth. Isla had never met either princess, except once. That was the day that all the Families got fixed. Everyone had to be fixed to go to Equestria. That was when Isla had met Celestia, the day she was fixed.

It didn't hurt or anything. The princess was really, really tall and she sat on a golden throne. She was so a princess! The princess had smiled at Isla. Isla thought she was very, very pretty and wanted to hug her. Daddy made her stop and stand very still.

The princess had a horn and it started to glow. Then Isla found herself glowing too. For a little while she even floated in the air. She kind of went to sleep, floating in the air. Then she was on her feet again, and she was fixed. Isla waved bye-bye to the princess, and then they went to the big boat.

The other kids were so lucky. The princess had been so pretty, and she seemed really nice. Isla envied the other kids for getting to have Celestia be their nanny. Isla hadn't been born yet. It just wasn't fair!

Daddy and mommy had decided to have Isla right after the princess left all the kids and the adults. She had been a nanny for half a year, and then left. Daddy said that the No-ghosts made him feel bad, and so he wanted to have a little girl to make him feel better. Isla was daddy's feel better girl. But mommy didn't feel better.

Isla couldn't remember her mommy. She had seen pictures of mommy. Mommy was very pretty. About a year after Isla was born, mommy had to go away. Daddy said the No-ghosts made her feel so bad that she couldn't stay anymore. Not even having Isla had helped. Mommy just felt sadder and sadder, and so she went away.

Isla had felt afraid that daddy might get sad too, but he had told her that would not happen. He was strong and he would always be there. But daddy was sad a lot of the time, so Isla had just felt more and more afraid, at least until they had moved to Equestria.

Equestria seemed a lot happier than the old place they had lived. It was filled with happy ponies. Isla really liked the few ponies she had met, but then daddy and the others made them not visit anymore. But Spots and Whitepaw had told her all about the ponies. They were nice. Whitepaw had even got her some books with pictures of the ponies in them. He had to sneak the books in, under all the groceries in the cart. But he had gotten her the books, and so she had her own pictures of ponies.

Isla had shown her books to Sara, once. Sara had said she wished to be a pony, like most people had gotten to be. Isla had gotten very excited, and told Sara that she wanted to be a pony too! It was very exciting to have another kid who wanted to be a pony just like her! Isla started going to see Sara every day! But then Sara had stopped talking to her. She had said Isla was talking too much about ponies, and the adults would get mad. So Sara said to please stop coming over.

That had made Isla very sad... until... until what? Isla had seen Sara again. Seraphina. They had been together! They had gone to... to a mansion. Petra. It was Petra's mansion. Petra had come over and invited Isla to go to her mansion. Isla had been invited because Sara had remembered what Isla had told her. Sara had told Petra that Isla wanted to be a pony too!

Isla stood up. That was where everyone had to be, she decided. They had to be at Petra's mansion. Petra and Seraphina and... Oliver! Oliver was nice. She was a very nice girl who looked like a boy. Oliver had become Isla's friend when they had gone into the forest. What forest? No. There was a room first.

It was like waking from a dream. A lot of kids in Petra's room. And a pony! There had been a real live pony, and a bunny and...

"Hello, Isla! Where are you going?"

"I'm going to find all the kids. They're at Petra's house!" Isla stopped walking and turned around. There was somebody here after all!

Isla stared and stared. It was princess Celestia! She was very, very big, even bigger than when she was sitting down. She had pretty wings, and the sun made her crown sparkle. Isla had to bend her neck to look at the princess's face, so Celestia lowered her head. Celestia had really big eyes. They were violet, and Isla could see herself in them.

"Isla, do you know where you are?" The princess had such a nice voice.

"I'm in the Masada. But there's nobody here!" Isla looked down and admired the golden shoes the princess wore. She also had a golden collar too. Princesses always wore a lot of gold in stories. Real princesses did too, it seemed.

"No, not exactly. You are in a kind of dream right now. You aren't really in the Masada at all. This is just a dream Masada."

Isla looked around. Everything looked solid. "It looks real."

"This is a very special dream, Isla. A magic dream. In magic dreams, things can seem as real as real life." The princess allowed Isla to touch her muzzle. Isla pet the princess's muzzle for a bit. It was soft and warm.

"You feel real, too." Isla stood back.

"I am real. I am real, and you are real, but everything else is a dream."

"Oh." Isla sat down on the grass and ran her hands through it. It felt real. Everything felt real. Magic dreams were pretty neat. "Can I fly?" Isla had once had a dream where she had flown around the Masada. It had been a really great dream.

"If you became a pegasus, then you could fly." The princess carefully lay down on the grass in front of Isla. "Would you like to be a pegasus?"

Isla smiled very wide. "Could you make me a pony? I want to be a pony in this dream. I want to be a pony and fly!" This was becoming the very bestest dream ever!

"I can do better than that, Isla. I could make you a pony for real, not just in this dream. Would you like to be my little pony for real?" As soon as the princess finished speaking, more memories came back to Isla. Running away. The forest. Something very, very scary. Scarier than all the No-ghosts that could ever, ever be. And... Oliver. Something bad about Oliver. And cold. So very cold.

"Something happened." Isla tried to remember more, but it was too scary. Her mind didn't want to remember, no matter how hard she tried. It was bad though. Really, really bad. And Oliver had done something to try to save her. Oliver! "Princess, can you make Oliver a pony too? Oliver is in trouble. I can't remember how, but she's in trouble. Can you make us both ponies?"

"I can. I can make you into a pony right now. You will wake up inside my castle, with all of your friends around."

Isla remembered more. Petra and Plantain and Crème. Seraphina and Milo. And that mean Asher too. That was why they had run away. To be ponies! That was it! They must have made it! Except for the bad thing. "Yes. Please. Can you make me a pony that can fly?"

The princess laughed. "Yes, I can make you a pegasus pony. One day, you will be able to fly, because you will have wings. But you will need to go to school to learn how to use them."

Isla considered this. "That's okay. I always wanted to go to school." She hadn't liked her tutors much. Isla had seen old shows about kids going to school. It seemed like so much fun, to get to be with other kids and play and stuff. "Can I be a pony forever?"

"Forever and ever." The princess smiled. She was so pretty.

"What about Oliver?" Isla kept feeling bad about Oliver. Something was very, very wrong. Something... she could feel it. Something was wrong, right now. "Something is wrong. I can tell. Something bad, about Oliver!"

The princess seemed surprised. "Astonishing. You truly have a strong connection to her. Perhaps..."

"I want to see Oliver!" Something bad was going on. Isla could feel it. She wasn't sure what it was, but her friend was in trouble. Isla had never had many friends. Not for long anyway, and she really liked Oliver. "Princess? Let me see Oliver!"

Princess Celestia stood up, rising far above where Isla sat in the grass. "Isla, your friend Oliver is indeed in danger. I think you could help her. Would you be willing to help me save Oliver?"

There was no thought needed. "Yes! Let me see Oliver!"

"I need you to be a pony first. Are you ready? Being a pony will help you help your friend."

Isla stood up and stared right into the princess's eyes. "Make me a pony! I want to help Oliver!"

The princess of the sun nodded, with a serious look on her muzzle. "You are already one of my little ponies in your heart, Isla Draghi. I welcome you to the herd."

Isla wasn't sure how it happened, but she found herself marveling at her new wings. She lifted her left forehoof and moved it about, before setting it down on the grass. Everything felt completely normal, only she was a pony now. Isla swished her tail, feeling it sweep across her hocks. She spread her wings wide and then folded them again. She wanted to run, to go play, to fly in the sky - but then she remembered. "We need to help Oliver now. Princess."

Celestia lowered her head and nuzzled Isla. "You're one of the special ones, aren't you?"

Isla shook her head, her mane flowing around her neck. "No, I'm just Isla."

Celestia laughed.

The door opened into a large, dimly lit chamber. Celestia ushered her new little pegasus in. Isla looked around, her new pony eyes adjusting instantly. The chamber was a vast dome, at the center of which was an empty chair. The chair was very ornate, a fantastically imaginative interpretation of a Louis XIV throne, upholstered in a bright red velvet. The chair stood on a tiered stone dais, and faced a gigantic holoscreen that covered almost half of the surface of the dome.

Behind the dais and the chair, was a tumble of partially wrecked theater seats, rising up on a steep slope, with aisle stairs. There was a flat wall against the dome, with a window in it. Inside the window were three holoprojectors, one red, one blue, and one green.

Across the pit in front of the holoscreen was another door. Standing next to it was princess Luna. Celestia shrugged with her ears at her sister.

"Direct thine eyes thusly." A dark blue hoof gestured to the upper left of the mountain of ragged theater chairs that rose behind the empty throne.

In the corner, where the back wall that hid the holoprojectors met the curve of the dome, was a barricade of plascrete blocks. They formed a little chamber, a small room, which had only one opening, a small window no larger than one single block. It was a tiny fortress, cemented together, with no door. The minute peephole was angled so that it could see the vast holoscreen.

Isla looked at the screen. A holomovie played continuously on it.

The viewpoint of the movie was first-person, from the eyes of someone moving through a house. The view shifted constantly, sometimes looking at feet walking, or at a hand reaching out to open a door. Always the view was as if the camera had replaced the head of a person going about their daily life.

The person was walking down a long corridor inside a large house. The house wasn't quite a mansion, rather it was smaller, and had only one or two servants. The view passed a maid, who towered high. She smiled as the protagonist of the movie could be heard saying how pretty she looked.

The stairs leading up caused the three dimensional scene to move and jiggle unpleasantly. Briefly, feet and a hand on the rail could be seen. At the top of the stairs, the screen panned from left to right, until finally entering a large bedroom. At this point, the protagonist could be heard breathing, almost panting, as if in fear.

The view went by a large, silken white bed, and a balcony that opened out into a vision of old earth. The balcony was covered in a faceted geodesic dome of glass panes, shielding it from the smog outside. The screen rapidly turned and focused on the double doors of a large closet. Two small hands reached out and tugged at the golden handles, carefully opening them.

Inside the closet, far above the viewpoint of the camera, hung a large number of dresses and coats and silken slips. Below, as the view tilted down, were delicate shoes, some with high heels, others with beautiful buckles and other designs.

The hands reached out and brought a mass of silky slip towards the screen. It appeared the protagonist of the movie was burying their face in the translucent fabric. The sound of long sniffs of what was likely perfume clinging to the material could be heard.

Suddenly, the view shifted, as the camera followed a hunt through the back of the closet. There, in a box, pudgy hands trembled as they worked to open the container. Inside was a very pink, long-sleeved, old-fashioned flannel nightgown. It hadn't apparently seen much use, stuffed as it was away and under a small pile of shoes.

The screen showed movement as the viewpoint left the closet, occasional glances down at the hands holding the pink gown. A flurry of confused images followed as the gown was hastily slipped over the camera's viewpoint. Then a clumsy, tripping stumble, as the protagonist apparently climbed up onto the white, shining comforter of the bed.

The view focused on arms held out, the fabric of the old nightgown overwhelming the small size of the subject of the movie. Tiny hands tilted left, then right, to show off the lace around the ends of the oversized sleeves. The view tilted to show small legs lost in the long flow of the pink fabric. They kicked on the bed, bouncing to make the material flutter and wave like a flag.

A hand and sleeve came up, and wiped across the screen. Left behind, on the pink sleeve, were wet spots, tears. Sniffling could be heard from the soundtrack, and gentle weeping.

"Oliver? Oliver! I'm home!"

A sudden, jerking, spastic flurry of briefly glimpsed scenes made a dizzy mess of the image on the holoscreen. The gown was hastily removed, tiny hands prowling through the floor of the closet, then stuffing the pink mass back into the box. Shoes were piled on the box, and then panting as the scene fled the closet altogether.

Suddenly the image spun, back to the closet. Two small, pudgy hands darted out as the screen was filled with the two closet doors being closed as quickly - and as silently as possible. Again the view spun, and in an instant, the little hands were smoothing the comforter on the bed, trying desperately to remove any wrinkle.

As the camera moved in jerky steps towards the bedroom door, the screen encompassed a full length mirror, in passing. In the mirror was the unmistakable reflection of five-year old Oliver, so much smaller, just a tiny thing. This was Oliver long before the growth spurt that had made her larger than the older Seraphina.

The view on the screen jerked and jumbled with swirling images of running down stairs too large for small legs. Near the bottom of the sweeping staircase the scene twisted and spun, everything turning around the view, legs and arms flashing by the screen, sometimes flailing out into space, other times being crushed in darkened impact against stair and finally, floor.

Screams were heard, the sound of heavy, adult footfalls drawing near. "Oh god! Oliver! Oliver! Are you alright? NO! Don't move him, Marie! Stand back! Dammit!"

The view on the screen rippled with wetness, tears. One arm was clutching the other, as the view rolled side to side and shrieking, agonized wails came from a child's throat, from Oliver's throat. "It hurts! Mommy! It hurts!"

"Let's see, oh god, it's broken. Marie! Call the services! Now!" A face filled the distorted, tear rippled view on the holoscreen. It was that of a woman, Ophelia Sachs, Oliver's mother. "Ollie... help is coming, momma's here, momma's here... what were you doing running down the stairs? I've told you never to run on the stairs!" The face loomed and kisses were planted on what must be a forehead, above the camera. "Boys will be boys, I suppose."

"But I'm not!" The voice was weak but adamant. "I'm not a boy!"

"Shhh... shhh..." The woman filling the view began checking the eye of the camera. "Did you hit your head, sweety? Of course you're a boy, you're mommy's little man, and everything is going to be okay."

The screen went dark. Then, after a few seconds, the vast holoscreen brightened again. Once more, the view displayed the process of walking down the hall. The movie was repeating itself from the beginning. How many times had it run, over and over and over?

"Cognaculum." Celestia took in the semi-spherical chamber. "The seat of the soul. Throne of consciousness, view of reality, doors of perception to enter. All from the mind of a ten year old foal." The princess seemed impressed for some reason that Isla could not understand. "Your little friend is quite bright, Isla."

"Where's Oliver?" Isla didn't like the big theater.

"Thy companion is ensconced in yon fortress, methinks. She doth observe her life as from a distant shore, her own true life having been thieved from her by impropitious form and unhearing ears." Luna started carefully climbing the pile of theater chairs that appeared to have been dumped into the otherwise empty chamber.

"You cannot reach the filly, sister. She cannot be extricated simply by the removal of her fortress walls. This is her mind in which we walk, and she is everywhere and nowhere within it." Celestia turned to the velvet throne in the center of the dome. "Come forth, my little pony. Do you not remember my love for you, my precious Peony?"

In the velvet throne, a shimmer appeared, like heat rising from a baked road. The shimmer took color and substance, and the transparent form of a very little girl appeared. She was a ghost, a spectre, and Isla could see right through her to the velvet she sat on. "Celestia?"

The princess lay down on the wide, round dais, beside the chair. "Here I am. Remember our time together, before? I told you stories and sang to you? I told you that one day we could meet again. That day has come."

The spirit in the chair faded, almost to nothing. Her voice became faint. "You're not alone!"

"This is my sister, Luna. She and I share in everything. Do you remember the stories I told you about how much I cared for her?" The princess stared intently at the faint wisp in the chair. The apparition began to solidify again, growing in color and definition.

"Luna. I remember. Luna is nice. Luna is your nice sister who loves you. She would like me, you said."

Celestia nodded. "Yes, she wanted to meet you. I told her about the wonderful filly I met, and how much I liked her. It's alright, Peony. Did you remember that Luna is the protector of all little foals? I told you about that before. She is the guardian of dreams and the protector of foals."

"Spain." The ghost in the throne became more solid. "When mommy and I lived in Spain. By the coast. You came. You came and stayed with me for a long time." The ghost had long, flowing hair, and wore a delicate, embroidered, Tudor-styled gown. She looked like a girl from a time of castles and knights.

"That's right. You remember. We had such fun together, didn't we?" The smile on Celestia's muzzle was matched by the ghost who became almost opaque. It was difficult to see through her now.

"You're Celestia!" It was as if the spirit in the chair was regaining herself as she became more solid. "Oh... Celestia!"

The delicate girl was off the throne now, her arms wrapped tightly around the neck of the princess of the sun. "Celestia!" Tears fell now on the royal coat, as tiny, thin fingers dug into the princess, clinging to her as if to a raft in a very stormy sea.

"Little Peony. I have missed you." Celestia pressed her head to the bulk of the frail girl, unable to properly nuzzle her because of the tight grasp.

After some time, Peony looked up, and wiped her eyes. Shyly, she waved tiny fingers at the diarch of the night. "Hello... Luna!"

Luna smiled and gave a quick pony bow. "We are pleased to make thy acquaintance, dear friend of our sister." A dark hoof gestured to the side. "Hark, for another dear friend is here for thee as well. Good Isla would bid thee greeting I'd warrant."

Isla stepped carefully on her new hooves around Celestia, and showed herself completely. She had been afraid, before, when there had seemed to be a ghost in the chair. But the ghost was solid now. "Is that you, Oliver?"

The little girl in the Tudor gown pulled herself away from Celestia in terror. The look on her face was fear and shame. She half stumbled to the great throne, and clambered onto it. As she did so she began to fade, becoming more and more translucent.

"Wait! Please wait!" Isla moved towards the chair, no longer thinking about ghosts. She was sure that the little girl was Oliver. "It's okay! I like you that way! I like you that way!"

Isla stopped a short distance from the fancy throne. The vague outline in the chair turned around and sat down. It gradually took on color and substance again. "Really?"

"Really, really, Oliver. You're way better that way." The spectre in the chair seemed doubtful. "Honestly! You're really pretty, and I think you're much better now!"

The ghost was nearly solid again. "I... my name is Peony. It's a flower." She barely whispered the words, ready for any rejection, ready to run once more.

"Peony. Okay." Isla nodded, very serious. "Are you still my friend?"

The ghost in the chair became completely solid. "Of course I am!"

"Celestia said you were in danger." Isla didn't understand this place they were in, and she didn't like how it felt. It felt like fear and hurt. "I came to save you. So did they!"

The royal pony sisters glanced at each other, and refrained from chuckling.

"I'm... okay." Peony straightened her gown. She didn't sound okay.

"The princesses are here to make us ponies, Peony. That's why we ran away, remember?"

Peony looked startled, as if she had suddenly rediscovered something. "You... you look great, Isla. As a pony, I mean. I could tell it was you the moment I saw you. You make a great pony."

Isla unconsciously wagged her tail. "It's fun, too. I have wings, see?" Isla opened her wings wide and flexed them. Then she folded them back. "I'm gonna fly someday!"

"You make a really neat pony." Peony looked sad, sitting in the chair.

"That is why we are here, Peony. You were badly hurt saving your friend. I can tell you have remembered that now. I can help you by turning you into a pony, like your friend Isla here. Would you like that Peony?" Celestia slowly stood up, preparing herself.

"I... can't." Peony faded away into nothing, and the chair was suddenly empty.