Keep Calm and Carry On
I
She walked down broken cobblestone roads, streets that twisted and winded into oblivion. Her black trench coat fell behind her, dragging in the wet, filthy gutters, hiding the faded purple shirt she wore beneath it. In one hand she held a yellowing journal, and in the other, she held another hand, one which belonged to a little boy, struggling to keep up with her quick pace. While his left hand was clenched in her right, his remaining fingers were wrapped tightly around the neck of a dragon stuffed animal.
"Twilight," The little boy whined. "How much father do we have to go? You're walking really fast. Where're we supposed to be going, anyway?"
Twilight stopped walking, giving the little boy time to catch his breath. She closed her eyes. She was going a bit fast, wasn't she? She could stand to slow down a bit, couldn't she? I could, she answered herself, but I can't stand to be in this town much longer! Princess Celestia had given her a mission, one she couldn't fail, and from the few days they had been there, it looked as if Ponyville couldn't help them.
"Spike," She said as she turned toward him, kneeling down until they were at eye-level. "I need you to be strong, bud. You've been a trooper these last couple of days, and I haven't really told you how much I've appreciated that. Thank you."
She hugged him, lovingly and wholly, and they stood like that for a moment, on the sidewalk, embracing against the cold city wind.
"Your welcome, Twilight." He responded.
When she released him, her hands were on his shoulders.
"With that being said," She continued "We have to keep moving. I've gotten in touch with a contact with tickets to get us back home, to touch base with Princess Celestia," She stared down the street, focusing on a point beyond the billowing smoke coming from a nearby manhole. She blinked a few times, and after a couple of seconds, and returned her gaze back to Spike.
"We said we'd meet outside a shop called 'Sugercube Corner', just a few blocks away, and that's where we would exchange the tickets for the money." She jiggled one of her trench coats outside pockets, letting him hear the sounds of the coins hitting each other.
"I'm really sorry I've been walking so fast, and I'm sorry I haven't been telling you exactly waht's been going on." She hung her head slightly, in remorse.
"Can you forgive me?" She asked, her pleading at him from under her forehead. he tucked a lose strand of long, dark purple hair behind her left ear and smiled.
"It's okay, Twilight. Let's get going."
She smiled, stood up, and began to head down the cracked sidewalk once more, now with a steadier, slower pace.
After a minute or two of walking, they saw a car speed down the street, sirens blaring, while hearing screams edging in and out of earshot. at first, Twilight thought this might have scared Spike, but he looked up at her with a grin.
"I dunno, Twilight," He said "Are you sure you wanna leave? It seems to me that Ponyville's a pretty quaint place."
Admittedly, Twilight found this joke to be quite awful, but just the idea of Spike trying to make a humorous comment, given the situation, was enough to cause her burst into an avalanche of giggles. Seeing her reaction as some type of approval, Spike also began to laugh. This continued on down the street as they headed for Surgercube Corner.
When they reached the store, Twilight had to be honest with herself: While she wasn't excepting a bustling, bright pink shop who's design and decor was similar to that of the baked goods it sold, she had at least expected an approchable exterior to match it's approachable name.
In reality, however, Sugercube Corner was a broken down, boarded up Cafe, resting between two other shops at the corner of an unassuming junction. It was void of all color and brightness, and uninviting smarm covered the building like the grime that shadowed it's windows. Twilight wouldn't have known it as their destination without a second, much harder look, since the building's name was faded to the point of invisibility.
"Looks cozy..." Spike muttered weakly, but this time, Twilight wasn't laughing. The urban streets surrounding their location were completely empty, save for Spike and herself. She rolled up her coat's sleeve, checking the time on her wrist watch. Just after eight PM. Was she sure they were in the right place?
She tightened her grip on Spike's hand as she half-walked, half-jogged across the street to Sugercube Corner. She peered through the planks that covered the windows and the doors. It was dark inside, and it took Twilight a few minutes to find an angle for her to spectate the inner workings of the shop.
An old woman was hobbling down a flight of stairs, coming from what Twilight assumed was a living quarters on the second floor. She took her place, sitting in a foldable chair behind a counter lined with colorful pastries, watching a small television.
Twilight backed away from her observation post and looked around. Their contact still hadn't arrived.
"You hungry, Spike?" She asked as she turned to him. "I think I have enough money to buy you a little snack."
Spike was slowly backing behind her leg, clearly unnerved by the corner store.
"Sure..." He said after a while, his hunger apparently more powerful than the fear-inducing cafe. Twilight completely understood; they hadn't eaten in two days.
Twilight knocked a couple of times on the wooden beams blocking the entrance way.
No answer.
She tried knocking a few more times while calling out, but she still didn't get a response. After a while, Twilight grew impatient.
"Spike," She said "Keep watch for anyone coming this way. I'm going to see if I can get these boards off."
Spike nodded, turned around, and began looking up and down the street, checking for a sign of anyone approching.
As her best and most faithful student, over the past few years, Princess Celestia had been teaching Twilight how to master her magical potential. Unicorns (The common slur against people like her) were people with an overdeveloped understanding of magical practice. Magic did exist, in fact, within the form of tangible energy, something to be controlled and manipulated. Twilight had shown a very strong link with this substance in her early adolescence, and her very confused parents had agreed to send Twilight to live in the big city of Canterlot to learn and study magical theory with the Princess herself. She would return home for a few weeks every summer, and they would send Spike up to Canterlot every once in a while to help tidy up the vast library she lived in. Twilight was intelligent, and studied hard, but nasty rumors about her sexual orientation stopped her from being very social, leaving her plenty of time to train herself on her lessons. Regardless, Twilight's magical abilities were limited to only being able to pick up and move object using magic alone. It was this trick that she hoped would allow her to force the planks of the door and get them inside.
She closed her eyes, put her journal in her back pocket, took a deep breath, and concentrated. Performing any magical task, even the simplest things, was difficult, and extremely physically exhausting. Twilight had to focus.
When she opened her eyes again, the world was colored with a thick tint of lavender. This never ceased to amaze Twilight, and it took her a few seconds to get her eyes adjusted.
It was at that point that she began to tear the beams, one by one, out of the door way, lavender color distorting the pieces of wood as they fell to the ground. When she was done and the world had faded back to it's regular Hugh, Twilight had to learn against a wall to keep from colapsing.
"Buddy," She panted, holding out a hand. "Lets go inside."
Spike raced to her, smiled and squeezed her fingers reassuringly as they crept into the dark bakery.
Almost instantly, the lights flashed on, and Twilight and Spike were faced with the old woman, trembling, pointing a shotgun in their direction. Twilight had assumed that because she couldn't hear her calling out, she wouldn't hear them opening the door, but apparently, she had been wrong.
The woman was so old, so frail looking, that Twilight was sure the recoil from the firearm would do more to her than the bullet would do to either of them if she actually did fire it. Even with this in mind, she put her hands up and nudged Spike with her leg to do the same.
"What is it? What da ya want? Why'd ya break down ma door?" The old woman demanded. She was obviously scared, but Twilight played along.
"Please, ma'm," She responded in a level tone of voice. "My name is Twilight Sparkle, and this is my little brother, Spike
. We're on our my back to Canterlot, and we haven't eaten in days." She shook her hips, causing the coins in her coat pocket to jingle.
"I have a little bit of money, and was wondering if I could buy one of your pastries for my brother. We'll be on our way, I promise."
"Please, ma'm." Spike pleaded, following his sister's brand of politeness.
There was a brief hesitation. The old woman looked at Spike, and relaxed, leaning the gun against the counter.
"Of course, of course," The old woman said, rubbing her face with her withered hands. "Ah'm sorry. Ah guess Ah'm jus' a bit paranoid, dat's all. Lord, what da times do ta people, huh?"
"Absolutely." Twilight responded nervously. There was a few seconds of silence that followed, but they didn't last.
"Go on, Spike. Tell her what you wnat." She patted him on the back. He walked up cautiously to the counter and pointed to the desert he wanted with the tail of his dragon. Twilight blinked. For a second, she had forgotten he had had that . She had also forgotten about the little television blaring behind the counter.
"How sweet." The old woman told Spike with a smile, refering to his dragon.
Spike remained silent.
"Anythin' fer you, honey?" The old woman asked Twilight.
"No thanks..." She trailed off. Twilight was focused on the television. It was a news channel, channel six. A serious looking man glared at her from the other side of the small screen.
"...Our sources still have no word of the whereabouts of the doctor who claims he's a messenger from another time after his break out from Ponyville Asylum last week."
As he concluded this broadcast, he cleared his throat, straightened his papers, and turned to follow th camera as it panned to film at a new angle. He began again.
"Tension in Canterlot has reached an all time high, as last night, Princess Celestia's castle was bombed."
Twilight froze. Her mouth stood agape.
"Our reporters have indeed conformed that that blast was a direct attack from Nightmare Moon, and, more specifically, her number one subordinate. She's Ponyville's most wanted, charged with multiple terrorist acts and demonstrations of vigilante justice, going under the alias of 'The Mysterious Mare-Do-Well'."
Twilight's legs felt weak. Was The Princess hurt? Injured? Killed? Just this thought made her want to collapse and break down in tears, but she forced herself to be strong. For herself, for Spike, and, possibly, for all of Equestria. She had sent Twilight out on her mission only days before. Did the Princess know this was coming?
"Experts have speculated that this is a direct part of the political aftermath Equestra is getting ready to experience, beginning with the Princess's own "Project: Cutie Mark", since the collection camps have been a primary site for riots and protests."
Twilight flinched, instinctively clutching the space between her waist and her right breast. She could still feel the magical scars, deep and jagged, even through her shirt. Spike was biting into a brightly-colored cupcake, and the old woman gave her a sympathetic look, accompanied only by a single blink. Twilight smiled weakly at the pair of them.
The broadcast continued.
"Ponyville's own Mayor Mare, an avid supporter of Princess Celestia's policies, claims to have had doubts about her since the Discord incident, and blames the Princess for Ponyville's current conditions as the economic slum of Equestria. 'Chaos only begets Chaos', she told our sources yesterday, "and the Princess doesn't seem to understand that'.
"Their tellin' me." The old woman sighed. "Ma husband was killed a few years back, when Discord still had a maja' influence in da media, and dis is her answer ta dat? Takin' kids 'nd...carvin' 'em up! Ridiculous."
Twilight became defense. She wanted to present a rebuttal, some kind of argument to defend her teacher. But the thing was, she couldn't help but agree. Seeing the aftereffects of the Cutie Mark Project, she couldn't help but be horrified. She thought it was an organized way to decrease unemployment and maximize production, at least that's how the Princess had sold it to her when it was Twilight's turn to be taken, but seeing this...
This only lead to disharmony and madness.
"Would you mind turning that off?" Twilight asked as politely as she could manage, befor the broadcaster could talk anymore about death tolls.
The old woman chuckled, turned, and the television went black with a press of a button.
Spike was having a great time finishing off the last third of his his cupcake, so Twilight walked up to the counter, checked the price on her brother's specific treat, and counted it out on the counter form the small bag in her pocket.
"Oh, goodness!" The old woman suddenly exclaimed, giving both Twilight and Spike a start, "Where're ma manners?" She held out a wrinkled hand.
"Ah almos' forgot ta induce ma-self. Ah'm Mrs. Cake."
"Nice to meet you." Twilight responded, gently shaking the outstretched hand. "Pleasure's mine."
Mrs. Cake smiled and took the money from the counter. Twilight would later realize she took extra time ringing them up and giving them their change, to keep their company a little longer.
"What brings y'all here ta Ponyville?" Mrs. Cake asked.
Twilight gave the small television a sad glance.
"Royal business."
"Really? You two look awful young to be involved with the Princess."
"Fifteen next month," Twilight sighed, pointing to herself. "And he just turned six." She pointed to Spike.
"Ah," Mrs. Cake replied with a frown.
There was a pause, and Twilight turned with Spike, ready to head out the door, when they were called my the old woman.
"Wait! Ah wanted ta apologize 'bout da door, an' da gun." She looked at her feet. "Ah figured if Ah made ma shop look like da res' of da town, all closed 'nd fallin' apart like, den da Hooligans 'nd thugs would leave me be."
Twilight tussled Spike's hair and smiled weakly.
"You did a great job." She sighed.
They left the cafe for the cold city streets.
