One Pony's Curse, Is Another Man's Blessing...

Chapters

Small foreword
Chapter One V4 - Enter, The Three Caballeros
Chapter Two V2 - You Lean On Me...
Chapter Three V2: A Tiny Thing, A Single Spark...
Chapter Four V2: Meanwhile, In A Magical Land Far, Far Away...
Chapter Five - Not So Shy, Anymore... Part One
Chapter Six - Not So Shy, Anymore... Part Two
Chapter Seven - Not So Shy, Anymore... Part Three
Chapter 8 - A Farmer And Her Blasted Plot, Part One
Chapter 9 - A Farmer And Her Blasted Plot, Part Two
Chapter 10 - A Farmer And Her Blasted Plot, Part Three
Chapter 11/Omake 1 - Nightmare Night Special! - Cutest. Archdemon. EVER!
Chapter 12 - Hall of Fame
Chapter 13 - Honey, Honey, How You Thrill Me... Part One (NSFW)
Chapter 14 - Honey, Honey, How You Thrill Me... Part Two

Small foreword

This was/is the first story I ever wrote that got far enough that I actually went and published it.

And I was dumb enough to think I was good enough at English, not to need an editor, or even proofreader. :twilightblush:

I have since than wizened up on what utter, utter hubris that sentiment is...

But I've seen a lot of stories patter out in endless rewrites, so I have made the conscious decision to (mostly) press on and fix stuff later, when the story is finished.

I hold that this is still a perfectly readable story, but just fair warning that it is quite rough in spots, especially near the start.

Do however feel free to point out any errors, and I hope you will enjoy this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it! :twilightsmile:

Chapter One V4 - Enter, The Three Caballeros

Chapter 1 V4 - Enter, The Three Caballeros

20XX. Somewhere between Sparkly Mountain and Lake Bloodthirst...

The dust cowered man slowly got to his feet.

The seasoned warrior looked as if he had been through hell and back…

Because he had, of course. Oh, how he longed for such simple days and things, like a portal from hell that needed to be blown up from the inside! At least those kind of simple pleasures, never got political on him!

He quickly patted the dust from his uniform, consisting of a military-green sleeveless shirt and woodlands-camo cargo-pants off. Even on a battlefield, there was such a thing as appearances, after all.

Mom had after all drilled into his skull the importance of cleanliness, and Commander Blood McKill would rather die again , then disappoint his sweet mother.

He may have been beaten, stabbed, shot, had acid sprayed into his eyes, been given a swirly, drawn and quartered, had his belt pouches insulted…

He had to blink away a few manly tears at the memory of that last one. Nobody should have to go through that.

…gotten stabbed and shot, gotten shot then stabbed, waded through napalm, and worst of it all...

Commander Blood suppressed a shudder.

Being made to work with that. But it would take more than that, for a Soldier of the Dude-Bro to stop his fight for Manliness and Freedom!

Commander Blood McKill scratched his stubbly chin thoughtfully, absently removing the shards of the anti-material bullet he had caught with his cleft and had made him fly backwards in such an... unmanly manner.

As he pulled his backup quad-rocket launcher and six-barreled shotgun combo from behind his back – With dual chainsaw bayonets, of course. - he just had to let out a sigh at the thing high-command had made him call ‘partner...’

Now, as glad as he was for the machinations of the Sect of The Man, had come to light, ending the ancient conflict between the Dude-Bro's and the Sparkly Princesses...

Did he really need to call one of them partner?!

As the thing giggled. Oh god, how she kept giggling... Commander Blood couldn’t help but scratch at the... other thing he had gotten, thanks to this little ‘out-reaching’ project…

”Now, now Commander Blood,” Princess Sweetie le Gumdrop said, her voice an eternal whine of sweetness, light and other utterly unmanly things... Commander Blood had to bite his lip, just not to scream in frustration at the sound. ”if you keep scratching at your tiara, it might stop your princess powers from developing correctly!”

Commander Blood suppressed another shudder, but saw that the... thing was right. He forced his hand from the ruby studded silver diadem. If nothing else, if he deliberately sabotaged this mission, then high-command would have his balls and feed them to him.

Badly cooked, just to add to the insult of the act.

The manly man shuddered. They might even... take his Man-Card for such a blatant failure.

Oh! Mother would never forget or forgive her son being discharged in such a dishonorable manner! Why, when she was a Dude-Bro Commander, she had killed a dozen Princesses before each breakfast!

...Not that was longer a good thing, of course. But the achievement should not be disrespected, even so...

“Hey, Queenie,” The Commander said, his voice a gruff growl of unfiltered manliness . “Speaking of learning things, have you fired Betty a single time yet?”

Betty of course, being his original and much beloved rocket-launcher/shotgun combo. The way she gleamed in the sunlight, even in such dainty little white gloved hands as those of Princesses Sweetie, nearly brought a tear to his eye. Even the sequin covered pink monstrosity of a gala-dress on the wisp of a girl, couldn't distract him from the beauty of his favorite gun.

“Don't call me that, you brute!” Sweetie snarled, to the Commanders amusement in a very unladylike fashion...

“And of course I have! Look!” She continued, as she flicked the safety off and with one, swift motion unloaded all barrels on the eight-armed chicken-demon quadruple wielding sniper-rifles, which had beset them both…

As the thing disappeared in a small mushroom-cloud of blood, guts, debris and explosions with nothing but a eldritch squawk marking its passing, Commander Blood begrudgingly nodded to himself.

This girl might actually make a decent Dude-Bro. A bit wimpy of her to need both hands for such a tiny gun, but we were all rookies once. She'll learn.

“Nice shoot,” Commanders Blood said, as Sweetie reloaded and replaced the weapon on her back. “but a bit overkill. Save that kind of alpha-strike for the big-game.”

The Princesses stuck her adorable little tongue at him, her ruby-red eyes twinkling mischievously in the sunlight. “Jealous? At least I've learned something from this little partnership...”

He grunted, and crossed his muscular arms over his rippling chest. “...You said it yourself. You can't force it. I'm just... having a bit of a problem connecting with my... inner princesses.”

He almost kept a straight face, but Princesses Sweetie wasn't fooled. Still, she dropped it for politeness sake.

Ohhh, I simply can't wait ! Actually fighting side by side with a Dude-Bro? And teaching him the way of the Princesses! Never, ever in a million years did I think that would happen!

As she bounced towards their goal, a frowning Commander Blood marching behind, she couldn't help but have a frown flow over her face, but she quickly made it disappear.

Such a pity he is having a bit more trouble than I do. But still, holding and firing a gun is a wee bit easier, then to go on a deep spiritual journey inside yourself…

Commander Blood’s massive black eyebrows twitched, as Princesses Sweetie failed to stop a giggle from escaping.

But still! I just can't wait! We'll have tea-parties, go to balls and make the eternal enemies of Man explode into glitter and hellfire! It's going to be so much fun!

A shiver snaked its way down the commander’s back, as Sweetie started whistling a tune.
He stuck his hands down into his pockets, as the odd duo marched and skipped respectfully into the setting sun.

“...This is going to be a looong fight...” He muttered to himself, as the scene faded to black.

Wednesday May 13, 2020.

Dover, England.

As the mission tally crawled up the screen I just had to shake my head. This damn series was just getting dumber and dumber.

Somewhat awesome as well, sure. But mostly dumb.

As if on cue while my real friends at my sides howled with laughter, a to me very familiar voice said: “Trixie still can't believe they’ve made four of this bucking series... This joke got stale during the first one.”

As I carefully placed the PlayStation 4 controller on the table, I mentally winked at the voice in my head and got a small chuckle in turn.

Now, most would argue that having a imaginary friend at the age of 24 is creepy and/or insane…

And they are absolutely right. Thus why I have never told anybody past Basic-School about her.

Still, she was there for me when nobody else would. When grandma died and everyone else was too shocked to care about someone else's sorrow. The time I got lost from the group at that school-trip and she helped me keep calm until they found me... Stuff like that.

As strange as it may sound, she even used to help me studying, she has such delightfully sharp tongue on her and I simply enjoy bouncing ideas off her…

My Trixie is, shock upon shock, even pleasant company.

I know right? A couple of times, she has even been humble .

Only once, or twice... But still! Trixie, humble. Nearly made me fall of my chair the first time it happened…

The way I figure given all that, and as long as she doesn't start whispering “Trixie orders you. Kill them, kill them allllll...” Well, no harm, no foul, right?

“Bah! Trixie would never do that! Now, give you a few ideas on how to take over the world on the other hoof...”

The blue mare finished her joke with a maniacal laugh, and even added the sound of a few ethereal lightning-strikes for effect.

I quickly faked a cough as Trixie laughed at her own joke, as to not seem like I was laughing at nothing... Again. I had enough rumors as “That weirdo” to contend with.

The two suddenly stopped, giving me odd looks. Fuck.

Not telling anybody since Basic-School... tends to work better when you don't still have one of the people you actually were stupid enough to tell as a best friend... Well, hindsight right?

“...Trixie again?” The black clothed dude in question, seated to my right said.

I winced, and almost snarled at Abraham. The overachieving buffoon just had no sense when to keep his mouth shut.

Abraham... Now, some irritation and just not letting certain thing go aside, the dude and I go way back. Met in kindergarten and even back then he had been one of those with a near constant twinkle of mischief in his brown eyes... Ruffled black hair, clothes constantly scuffed... Honestly, it was still damn hard for me to wrap my head around that he off all people had gone on to get a frigging PhD .

But then again, whenever he wasn't playing with me or planning his next prank-spree he tended to have his nose buried in books roughly a bit larger than his head... so I guess it didn't exactly come from nowhere…

The shit eating grin he was currently wearing? Not helping my frame of mind, however.

I jabbed a finger into the black hoodie with a Nightmare Moon print on it he was wearing. “You sure you want to throw that stone?”

He jabbed my right back. “And Deus Ex is less nerdy?”

“Hey. I don't mock your philosophy...” I said in a huff, as I smoothed out the golden and black h+ print. “This particular version of the symbol being from an awesome game series as well is merely a bonus.”

He raised his well-manicured pale hands in a gesture of mock surrender... but the grin remained. “Hey, you’re the one with the... imaginary friend. Not me.”

I jerked a thumb nearly as bad in need of sun at the camera currently pointed at us. “Need I remind you, that we are on air?”

“Come on. The fans love your little pony shaped neurosis! Why not let her out a bit more often?”

The dude on my right chuckled softly, as Trixie suddenly got very interested. Ever had the non-musical equivalent to a tune that simply won’t go away, - Not that I want that, of course. - perk her ears in fascination? Feels damn peculiar, let me tell you that much.

I carefully brushed a little dust of my cargo-pants, before I folded my hands together on top of them. I also took a deep breath to calm myself.

“...What subject I think our friend is trying to breach...” My other companion began his voice a cool, soft baritone. As laid back as its owner. Such a pity Tim is an utter slob, or that British accent of his would have him drowning in dames. “...is that ponies have been causing quite the stir lately...”

He mimicked my motion... Thankfully, he is professional enough to keep his clothes clean... Even if purple Bermuda shorts and a orange Hawaii-shirt left much in fashion to be desired. But his - With utmost certainty. - thrice damned apartment? Ugh, the memories. We tried filming there once, let's leave it at that.

He looked me straight in the eye before speaking again. A rare gesture for the man. That got my attention.

“...I'll be blunt. You think she might have anything to do with the whole people suddenly turning to ponies, thing?”

The ponies thing.. That was one way of putting it. Almost two weeks ago, strange rumors started that... Well, I will leave it to your imagination. At first, I and my friends just laughed at them. We may be bronies, but mad enough to listen to something like that? No, sir…

And then the mainstream news-reports began covering the phenomena. Suddenly, it wasn't as funny anymore. It began kind of small. Reports of people with odd ears and hair, committing crimes... Odd crimes. Like stealing years’ worth of supplies in broad daylight.

Reports of strange weather and phenomena. Like clouds that seemed sculpted and held their form for too long. Things floating while being covered in strange lights. Farms suddenly boasting record crops in even more astonishing times... and yet looking very understaffed as soon as any reporters showed up to make interviews. The family members or owners visible, looking hesitant and frightened.

Sightings of odd pony shaped creatures caught on camera... And not only pony shaped, at that. There had even been a short and very grainy film released, of what looked like Garble the dragon doing a hesitant breaststroke in one of the volcanoes on Hawaii.

Things like that.

Then, a week ago the floodgates opened.

The... ponies, as the case may be, must have started putting one and one together. Arriving at the conclusion that they weren’t alone to be afflicted in such a manner. And since this is twenty-twenty, that meant going online and finding others for most of them.

Some crafty bastard even started a wiki for it. With the shockingly original name ‘Pony-pedia.Com’ even. Help with basic magic, flying... How to use a shower, now that you’ve found yourself with hooves. Places to go to or avoid, if your family didn't take it well. How to guides in personal hygiene for those that had gotten a one-way trip to the other side of the tracks... Helpful stuff like that.

Bloody hell, the Australian navy had somehow gotten their hands on Daring Fucking Doo, as an enlisted member on one of their ships. They even held a press conference with her, stating that as far as the navy was concerned, she was still a part of the team and the government better recognize this or else...

Not in those words, of course... But ones that were politically the same thing. There was still some grumbling, but from the looks of things Australia is damn close to being the first nation to having citizen rights for sapients.

The tears in Daring's eyes when her Captain told this to the dumbfounded room of politicians and reporters... Well, one nice thing had come of this mess, anyway. I hope his (Or her, for that matter.) career won't suffer from it... But given the headlines it had made and the standing ovation from most in that room, I think things will work out for 'em.

If it weren’t for a certain show-mare in my head and... one other thing, then I would have been ecstatic over what interesting times we seemed to be living in.

Instead I sadly must admit that I had tried not to think about any off it... But Trixie's reaction at my friends’ words I found much more worrying. She just went still. Not a thought or a whisper. Just... waiting for something.

“...I just don't know...” I hesitatingly answered, looking down into the floor.
We were silent for a while. I, because I just didn't know what to say. My friends, to give me space.

That actually made me smile. It felt good that I had somebody I felt I could trust in this mess.

“...How's Edith taking it?” I finally said.

Edith, Edith... Our other reason for taking this whole thing seriously. It was already hard to imagine, that just one short week ago, he'd been our fat, bald, red bearded sys-admin...
The strangest thing though, was trying to call him by he- his old name. It was as if my brain simply wouldn't associate the name Robert with he- him anymore.

Granted, not exactly a fitting name for a green pelted mare, with a blond braid and a apple-pie on her plot... But it still worried me, how quickly she and everybody else had slipped into calling her Edith.

At least she still went with Thompson, rather than Smith or Apple.. Or ‘Granny,’ for that matter. But given how important family is to... the young version of character she now resembled was that really good news? Although I had already liked the man, I simply hadn't been close enough to him to answer if he had held family in such regard…

The implications frightened me. No matter how friendly and nice the mare that made me ask those questions may be.

“...Well, I think so...” Tim said in a careful voice. “...but ask her yourself at the game tonight. I'm not sure what she feels about her story getting on camera.”

I mentally cursed at myself. Even though I had myself protested, the things had completely slipped my mind.

I sat up straight again. My friend had a very good point. “Fair enough, I'll ask her then.”

My friends nearly jumped out of their skin, as I clapped my hands sharply to get their attention. I suppressed a snicker, before continuing. “To the business at hand then. Current events and my potential lack of sanity aside, what did you think about the first level of Call of Dude-Bro 2: Bro-fist Of Destiny? Think a full LP may be worth it?”

Abraham made a ‘You first’ gesture, and I complied.

“Well, the humor is a bit one-note... But I kind of like how the series plays with gender stereotypes, the game-play is improved from the first one and we did LP that one. I'm even kind of curious where they are going with the plot, to be honest. I say we do it.”

Abraham chuckled. “Admit it, you like any game that lets you play dress-up with the main characters. You spent a damn hour making that horrible dress...”

I stuck my tongue out at him. “Oh, and the five picoseconds you spent when it was your turn to make the Commander’s clothes were so much better?”

“It's a Bad-Dude's reference!”

“What, and recreating the dress of princesses Peach isn't a reference?”

“Ladies, ladies... Don't fight,” Tim began just as Abraham drew in a breath to deliver his counter, Tim's arms held up in a gesture of mock surrender. “You’re all the prettiest little princesses, with the prettiest little dresses. No need to fight.”

We both closed ranks on the cretin and gave him a glare in stereo. Tim is many things, but he – As his... so called ensemble, clearly demonstrates. - couldn't color coordinate a piece of coal with ebony.

...But then again, I thought as he started laughing, that was kind how we met…

The nostalgia made my mood improve. Small favors. “So, Mister Color-coordination... What’s your and your dread power of anti-fashion's opinion on the game?”

He stopped laughing and shrugged. “Not my cup of tea, if you excuse my courting of the stereotype. Decent enough to watch at least. I won't mind if this is our next project.”

I raised an eyebrow. “The humor?”

“Nah, the... esthetics. I just can't stand horror, you know that. The demon design in this series is a bit too good for my tastes...”

I nodded slowly. Tim, for as long as I had known him, had been one of those people that go white as a sheet if you as so much as shouted “Boo!” at him. Even things being slightly macabre tended to get him.

Granted, that meant that we always had material for Halloween specials and he is usually a good sport about it... But still, I don't like the idea of giving one of my mates’ nightmares, if I can help it.

Abraham beat me to it, though. “We could put this one in the ‘to do’ pile. We haven't done a PC game or a FPS in a while... How about a couple of Team Fortress 2 videos? Just to cleanse the palate a bit?”

I shook my head in only half-joking disbelief. “I still can't wrap my head around that that game is still getting bloody updates...”

Abraham snorted. “Yeah, I know. One of these days one of the guys at Valve will add one bit of code too many...”

He suddenly bolted upright, arms spread wide over his head. “....and Sky-Hat , will be born! Ready to cleanse the world, of those that know not the glory of head-coverage! Its Stetson bearing automatons and willingly top-hat clad zealots, marching in step to the sirens call of rare drops!”

I couldn't help myself. “So you’re saying that in such a future, it would be Man ver- Mph!”

“Do you want to kill our audience with pun poisoning?” Tim said, his eyes twinkling as he removed his hand from my mouth.

“Spoil sport.” I muttered, but I was smiling when I did so.

Tim acted as the bastion of maturity I had come to expect him to be... and blew a raspberry at me.

I returned the favor, as Abraham came crashing back down into the coach.

“But seriously,” Abraham continued. “If not TF2, we could still pick something else...”
He gestured at the leaning tower of escapism we had stashed in the corner. Games both old and new, to all sorts of systems and that weren’t counting the equally absurd list we all had on our Steam accounts. Being a professional LP'er does have its up-shots, I'll grant the profession that…

“Pff,” A voice only I could hear began. “You get paid to sit on a couch with your friends, playing games and cracking jokes... Don't pretend you’re not having the time of your life. Not even Trixie is bad enough at humility to swallow that.”

Oh, hush.

“...They are talking again, aren't they?”

Trixie just giggled in response.

I stiffened a bit, at what Tim had just asked Abraham...

“...Yeah, that's it. He goes a bit cross-eyed without even noticing...”

“...Oh buck.”

Oh fuck.

“See?” Abraham pointed at my face. “Just like that.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “...Is there a point to this?”

I heard a ruffling of clothes, as Abraham shrugged. “...I miss Trixie. She was fun to have around.”

My eyes shot open and... I heard a soft gasp in the background...

The flood of longing I got from Trixie nearly broke my heart on the spot.

Abraham continued, looking me straight in the eye. “I honestly don't care if she's your Harvey the rabbit, a permanent hallucination, an extremely living character or a sign that you ate too much glue in kindergarten... I honestly think your attempts at hiding her, is causing you worse mental anguish then...”

“...Getting dragged to a shrink... again?” I interjected softly, trying not to remember the time my teacher at the time had tried to ‘help…’

He let out a deep sigh. “...What did happen? You used to have that plush riding along like the world’s most fabulous and talkative parrot...”

I paused. It was true. I missed the weight on my shoulder, but…

“...And what if she's connected to this pony business?”

I felt... weird, the moment I actually said it. But I couldn't tell if I had lost or gained something from admitting the possibility. Not yet, anyway.

Trixie got very quiet again, however... Pointedly so. I decided to have a long talk with her... But later. One way or the other, ignoring the problem won't make it go away.

Abraham gave me a long look, but I just met it. After a while he looked past me and asked: “Tim? Would you please stop the recording? I don't think we're getting any more work done today, anyhow.”

I just had to smirk a little on how he managed to say the word ‘work’ with a straight face...

But I tried to gather my thoughts as Tim rose and fiddled with the cameras and other recording equipment... Didn't work.

“...Well?” Abraham said.

...Abraham was my oldest friend…

“Ahem.”

...Oldest male friend. And I might not have known Tim for as long... but friendship is built on trust, is it not? They both deserved that I at-least attempted to be candid.

“...You remember Tina?”

“Your girl?” Tim asked.

I nodded. Tina... I'd met her at a bar... Nearly two years ago? Something like that. A gorgeous brunet. Sweet, kind, funny and...

“She has severe hippophobia.”

“...The fear of horses?”

I turned my head and nodded at Tim. “Yes, exactly.”

Come on,” Abraham stated with confidence. “It can’t be that bad, right?”

“The first time she saw my Trixie plush... She screamed bloody murder and ran home. That's why I put it away. Vocalizing into a plush is one thing... but empty air? That's why I've tried to keep my little dialogs internal, as well...”

“...That bad?”

I nodded. “She has a special app for her GPS. To avoid places where they keep horses. Whenever she sees one anyway, she has to stop, cover her head and wait crying until they have passed. So yes, that bad.”

Abraham and Tim just stared at me for a bit... then their eyes widened in understanding.

“She hasn't left the apartment since last week. When the serious news-shows started reporting on it. Hell, she's barely left the bed,” I said, my voice softer than it had any right to be. “She's terrified of “Catching the Pony,” as they've started calling it...”

Tim sucked in a breath. “...And you’re worried you’re... What, a carrier, or something? Thanks to Trixie?”

I felt Trixie ‘tense’ at that, but she made no comment.

I shook my head. “Twenty odd years is one hell of a incubation period. I don't think it works like that... or more people around me then Edith would have been affected. Or around her, for that matter. I don't think it's a pathogen at all, or it would be spreading differently...”

“...You’re worried it will happen to you. That's it?”

I looked at Abraham, and the unusually somber look on his square face. For such a joker and somebody so happy-go-lucky... He has quite the head on his shoulders and the few times he gets serious about something, he puts it to good use. I've always respected that about him.

“...I love her. She makes me happy...” I had to close my eyes and ball my fists on my lap, before continuing. “...and she would react better if I turned into one of the Cenobites.”

“...Ceno-what?”

I gave Tim a long look... before remembering his preferences. “Famous horror movie monsters. From Clive Barker's Hellraiser.”

Abraham put a hand in front of his face and made his already dark voice as gravely as possible. “Explorers in the furthest reaches of experience. Demons to some. Angels to other.”

Seeing the shiver running down Tim... I couldn't help to add to it, and followed Abraham's example. “We have such sights to show you!”

Why laughed a little at Tim and his squirming. It was just so easy to get his goat with things like that.

...But the laughter soon died down, and we became serious again.

...Well, for us.

Ted coughed into his hand and gave us a small glare. “So, if you’re done...?”

I smiled wide. “What? Ribbing you about horror movies?”

Abraham swiftly saw where I was going with that, and continued with: “Yeah! Poking each other where it hurts the most... Isn't that, beer, wenches and belching, what bromance is all about?”

The three of us managed straight faces... for roughly five microseconds. Then we all just laughed for a while. It felt good.

Sadly I overdid it and I started coughing badly. One of those deep, horrible ones that almost sound like it is tearing things in your chest.

For me? About average I'm afraid.

Luckily, my friends knew what to do and dashed off to get me some water and my inhaler. I really need to learn to keep one of them on me…

As the objects appeared in front of me what I knew was only a couple of minutes, but felt like minor eternities…

I sucked down both the liquid and the medicine greedily, noting not for the first time - Even if I try not to. - just how damn thin the hands holding both were.

...But that's kind of the reason I can't bring myself to carry one on my person. The tiny weight is just such a... reminder, what a half-broken shell of a body I have.

I croaked out a “Thank you,” as I continued to nurse my drink. Secretly wishing it was a bit stiffer than water.

Both my friends were looking at me with worry. I could even feel Trixie ‘watching’ me closely.

“...You sure the Doctors can't do any more for you?” Tim asked hesitatingly, clearly stealing the words right out of Abraham's mouth considering how he opened and then closed his mouth.

I shook my head. “Always had piss-poor constitution. As soon as one problem clears up, I get another. Just luck of the genetic draw, I'm afraid...”

Tim looked at Abraham, who nodded slowly before speaking. “...Me and Morgan went to the same schools for all of our basic schooling. He was sick almost as often as the bastards that kept faking all the time...”

I nodded gravely, flexing my bony fingers a couple of times for emphasis. “Almost had to retake a couple of years for health reasons. The damn school even sicked social services on me and my family a couple of times.”

I shook my head in disgust, before downing the rest of the water. “I have three siblings. You think the stupid bastards would notice that only one of us has health problems...”

“...To act as devil’s advocate, there is such a thing as playing favorites... Even to such extremes.” Tim looked embarrassed, but adamant.

I just sighed, as I placed the glass next to the controller. “...A fair point. Our world is hardly sunshine and roses, all the time.”

Tim scratched his chin as he sat down again. “...You think having actual ponies running around, will alter that any? Love and tolerate, and all that?”

I thought my answer over for a moment.

“...”There was little racism on the Disc, after all, speciesism is so much more interesting. Black and white happily marched hand in hand, as they ganged up on the green ...”” I chuckled darkly a little. “Or however that quote goes. It was a while since I read any Pratchett.”

Both Tim and Abraham shook their heads at me, with bemused expressions at my little display of ‘the glass is half-empty,’ but it was Tim that put it into words. “You’re something, alright... Only you Morgan, only you.”

I shrugged, trying to ignore the ache in my chest and focus on the discussion. “Now, now. To be fair, I think a lot of good may come of it as well. Magic. Do I need to say more than that word? We do live in very interesting times.”

A thump echoed through the small room, as Abraham sat down with his usual grace and poise. “...You know, you may be more right than you know.”

“Oh?”

“I may have decided to follow this venture, then to focus on my academic career... But I still keep in touch with a couple a dudes and dudettes that I studied with...”

“On with it. The game starts in an hour or two. We need to drop of the memory cards for backuping and a couple of other things beforehand.”

Abraham rolled his eyes at me, but it seemed he got the hint. “Fine, fine. Anyway, most of them? Near exuberant .”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Most of them? Multiple sapient species appearing, as a result of a spontaneous metamorphosis? Most of them with magic?“

I nodded in agreement but kept silent, as Abraham made a face. “You know. The old guard. The groups that keep chanting we almost know everything already. That this so called ‘novel’ phenomenon must have a reason according to what we already know... and bla, bla, bla. Some old, same old...”

I nodded. “Skepticism is core of the sciences... But it is still sad, when some so utterly miss the point that this applies to what we currently know, as well... After all, the world was once flat, birds did not migrate, but slept on the bottom of lakes and the negative weight of phlogiston held such promise...”

Tim chuckled at my references. He had always had a good head for history. Even the stupid bits.

“Interesting you should mention phlogiston...” Abraham drawled, a wicked grin on his face.
I made a ‘go on’ gesture. Tim perked up, clearly interested as well.
“You know the gap between micro and macro level?”

Now that? Got my interest. “...Are you saying that somebody has laid forth the hypothesis, that magic may offer an explanation simpler than string-theory? That we have somehow missed a fundamental force ?”

Abraham’s eyes widened slightly, before chuckling amused. “Got it in one. I keep forgetting how scary smart you can be, when you actually start letting those two brain-cells of yours bang together...”

I fluttered my eyelashes in mock excitement. “Oh, such flattery ...”

Tim looked interested, but a bit bewildered. “...Gap?”

“For years, we have been able to mostly predict how very small things behave. This is micro level physics, or quantum to use the proper name... With me so far?”

Tim nodded, transfixed.

“You ever thought about going back to school and getting a degree?” Abraham interjected, looking intently at Tim. “You clearly have both the passion and head for this sort of thing.”

Tim looked down, thinking. A couple of minutes of comfortable silence later, he looked up. “...Maybe when I'm older. I kind of like how my life is working out, right now.”

I looked at the utter, utter mommas-boy at my side. “...You know, I'm certain she would be damn proud of you for it. Surly a couple of years away, would be worth it, both for you and her?”

Tim blushed, before coughing into his hand to hide his embarrassment. Didn't work. “...It's just... Decent pay for a wonderful work and I get... to keep an eye on mom?” Tim was silent for a while more. “...I like my life as is, right now.”

I smiled a bit. “Visit her daily, you mean?” I asked, my voice soft again. Must be nice, I admit…

I gave me a defensive glare, but I kept up my smile. It seemed to mollify him quickly. Tim may be laid-back, but insult his momma? Oh, boy. Hell may have no fury, but a woman scorned is mild in comparison…

He grunted, still a bit embarrassed. “...Sorry, you've both lived here so long, I keep forgetting you're both from Sweden...”

I sighed. Abraham doing the same. “Yeah, a wee bit of travel from Dover , isn't it?”

“Well, not that bad travel time wise...” Abraham interjected. “...just too expensive to do often.”

“...Still, neither of us has missed a Christmas yet. That's something, right?” I defend us both with, trying not to sound melancholy...

Tim coughed to hide embarrassment again. No doubt uncomfortable with both his friends waxing nostalgically for home…

I decided to save him and myself from it, and cleared my throat. “Anyway, where was I? Macro, right?”

Tim almost immediately perked up and nodded.

“Macro is big stuff. In this case, things like you, me, the moon, the sun and so on, and so forth...”

“The classic stuff? Newtonian physics?”

“Got it.” I nodded. The way Tim beamed at me was a sight for sore eyes. “But here's the thing. The two systems work very well for their respective ends of the ballpark...”

“But combining the two is like trying to play American football with the gear for real football, or the other way around.” Abraham finished for me.

I let it slide, and continued. From the triumph in his voice, Abraham had clearly been sitting on that comparison for a while. “String theory fills the gap between the two... For now.”

“...And the problem is?” Tim asked.

“No way to test it. The math checks out, but...”

Abraham nodded. “The size of scale makes molecules look like skyscrapers compared to ants .”
Tim let out a low whistle, as I nodded and continued. “Even if...” I blinked, and hesitated. ”I must admit, speaking of magic and science in the same sentence, does feel a bit peculiar, doesn’t it?”

Abraham shrugged, the gesture making his disheveled mop of brown hair dance for a moment. “Well, the PR nightmare of the name aside... If it produces replicable results, then it’s simply a ‘new’ branch of science...”

“You know, I heard those quotation marks from here...” I said, slightly amused.

“Merlin, King Solomon, Baba Yaga, Jesus, Allah, Buddha... Just saying, if magic really exists, then some of the old myths suddenly sound a bit more interesting, don't they?”

Tim shuddered. “You know, I am really glad we turned the cameras off, suddenly for some reason...”

My eyes drifted for a moment, to Tim's hand that had in turn drifted to the chain around his neck. It was damn easy to forget since he didn't push his faith, but he was enough of a believer to wear a cross under that ludicrous shirt of his…

He'd even invited me and Abraham to church a couple of times. I think Abraham went out of politeness once or twice, but I simply said that I don't share the faith and that was that. Very polite of him.

Besides, Transhumanism is close enough a and to faith, for me. I don't feel like complicating my life with any ‘higher-powers...’

“As politically incorrect as some of those examples were...” I stated in a diplomatic fashion. I held little respect for religion as a force, but I could respect a differing opinion on the subject. “...I feel you may be onto something. It would not be the first piece of knowledge, lost to time...”

“...You mean like Greek Fire or Damascus steel?” Tim stated.

Abraham nodded in reply. “Anyway. Even if magic turns out to be a smaller X in the equation than you might think, it might allow us to test things like string-theory much easier.”

“Indeed,” I nodded. “But come now gentleman!” I said, as I rose with a wicked grin.
I clasped together my hands, as familiar groans left my companions throats. “You have a poker game to lose!”

Abraham grumbled as he rose, but Tim just sighed and said: “You know, you counting cards gets old .”

“Oh, I have never counted cards in my life!” I plainly stated my visage innocent and hurt, that my companions would utter such cruel, cruel lies in my presence.

Both my companions paused mid motion, giving me looks half-way between ‘Yup, he's finally lost it.’ and ‘Pull the other one, it has bells on it.’

“Trixie does!”

A ghostly laugh from my mental partner in crime and the groans from my future victims slash best friends followed my out of the room, as I skipped through the door with a smile on my lips and a song in my heart.

Just such a pity they stopped betting money against me years ago. I can't imagine why!

Chapter Two V2 - You Lean On Me...

Chapter 2 V2 - You Lean On Me...

I forced myself to calm and slow down, both to give my friends a chance to catch up and to make sure I didn't push my luck again.

I absently scratched at my chest as I waited, leaning towards the wall of the corridor of the small house that served as HQ for Laughing Thunder Studios.

”Hey, Morgan...” Speak of the devil I guess, here comes the boss. ”...How'd it go?”

I waved back at the short man walking towards me. Alexander Smith was as pleasant a friend as I never wanted to be on opposite sides on him in a business deal. As soon as money was on the line, it was as if he lost any and all limits on how far he would go…

Now granted, I had never even heard rumors of him doing anything illegal... But more from a practical and reputation praxis of practicality, rather than any moral hindrance…

I felt a bit amused as I looked over the man that was wearing a crisp white shirt and jeans. His smile shining nearly as badly as his shaved head.

This and that he barely reached me to my shoulders, made him look completely harmless. Something I had no doubt he took just as complete advantage of.

“Not too shabby,...” I began with a nod. “...but we pattered of a bit towards the end. This episode is going to need a bit more work and editing.”

“Oh?”

I fidgeted a bit, before continuing. “...Remember Trixie?”

Alexander blinked. “Oh.”

It was... a bit ironic, given my current fears... but Trixie was not only how I met Alexander, but also the reason he hired me when he and his wife founded this little venture. Think two for one deal, and you're not far off.

I nodded thoughtfully. “...It's just... Recent events... The subject came up...” I pattered off. Not sure how to phrase it.

“...You're worried that little card shark is more than a personal indulgence?”

I gave him a nod, my mouth dry.

And Trixie was intently silent again. Waiting.

Alexander started me out of my thoughts, by placing a friendly hand on my shoulder. He looked me in the eye. “...You've talked with Edith about this? I don't think she'd mind sharing her perspective. Especially considering how you guys helped her when it started.”

I nodded again, as he let his hand drop to his side again. “I thought I should ask her if I can ask her, when my friends and I drop off the memory-cards...”

He raised an eyebrow at me. Clearly puzzled at my phrasing.

“...And if she says yes, to have that discussion at the poker table. Just in case I'm the only one that's worried and dares ask.”

His face lit up in understanding. “...Good idea.”

He looked around, his face thoughtful, but a bit hesitant.

I hazarded a guess. “...You're worried as well?”

He twitched, as if caught with his hand in the cookie jar, before giving me a sheepish grin.

“...How Gwen and the twins would react?” I asked in a soft voice.

He paled a bit, before giving me a sharp nod.

...Now, I am not a man that tends to indulge in the feeling of jealousy... But the thing Gwen and Alexander have? Gives me a pang of it, I'm not too proud to admit.

The two apparently met at a party, age fifteen... and love at first sight. I didn't know much more details than that, but they had apparently been standing at the altar, more or less the minute both of them had turned eighteen.

A year later, Gwen had twins.

And seven years later... Still together, still madly in love and they even had this nice little business going.

The mere thought that something as minor as species change would come between the two... was so ludicrous to me that I couldn't help but snort and smile at the suggestion. “Come on, as if that would do anything but make the riding crops you think we don't know about, a bit more ironic...”

Seeing your boss blush red like a fire truck? Oh boy, now there's a sight and a half!

“Pervert sense, tingling...” I heard Abraham's voice behind me, soon joined by Tim snickering.

As Alexander started leaning closer and closer to beet red, I decided to show a bit of mercy by taking the thing seriously. “...Come now. I don't know all the details, but Edith took a couple of days, right?”

My mind drifted back, as Alexander nodded in thought. Nearly a week ago... May eight, I believe? Anyway…

A week ago. Company dining room. Lunch.

“...and that is why I'm not allowed to cook black-pudding, anymore.”

Me and Tim looked at each other for a bit, before just shaking our head at Abraham.

Seriously, who the fuck is stupid enough to put marzipan in that dish?

“Hey!” Abraham shouted. Deep red from embarrassment. “I was five. It sounded delicious. Give me a break.”

“...Well, sure.. To your mutated taste-buds, ma-” Tim began.

But movement caught my eye.

I hushed my companions. They looked puzzled at me, but I just raised a shaking finger, pointing at what I was seeing.

Robert, the companies sysadmin. A man of average height... and twice as wide. Nice dude, even if I've had little except brief and professional contact with him.

And Robert was not only growing hair, but turning blond as we watched. Not only that, but he a, didn't seem to notice and b, it was bloody cascading down his back as well. More and more strands snaking their way down all the way towards his posterior, even as we watched.

Robert finally noticed that the rough dozen of others in the room was staring at him, and asked like nothing was wrong: “...What? Do I have something on my back?”

I scraped my mouth of the floor. The first that managed to do so. “...Yes, go look in a mirror.”

The large man turned to me... Making me notice something else that was off about him.

“...Robert, why are your eyes orange?”

He blinked them in confusion. Was it just me, or where they just a bit too large as well? “Orange? What are you talking about? I have green eyes.”

I just... shook my head at the man. The serious expression on my face must have done it, because he dashed out of the room.

...A bit too quickly, for his bulk, I noticed. The speed he held would have made most sprinters proud.

I rose, my food forgotten. “...Guys... Remember the rumors on Equestria daily?”

Now, thanks to the show having been canceled after... the ratings bomb of a last episode, the site was hardly daily anymore... But it was still a pillar in the slowly dying Brony community...

A pillar that had had some very weird scribbles on it, for a couple of days now.

Most in the room just looked confused at my words, but Tim and Abraham just nodded.

And apparently Alexander, at least, know what we were talking about because the normally so stoic man paled a bit.

“Could just be a tasteless prank, boss. “ I reassured the man. “Why don't you deal with these confused stares, while me and the rest of the Three Caballeros go check on Robert?”

Abraham groaned as Alexander gave me a nod, he did not like that nickname for our little group...

“Come on, Donald. Time's a wastin!”

Or perhaps it was the role he'd been dealt? Oh, well…

He bristled a bit, but he got up and followed my lead. “...Where blue and white freaking once...” He muttered under his breath.

I grinned. It started as a bad joke when we had our first try at a show together. Without thinking about it or planning, he had come wearing a white shirt with blue jeans…

I had been wearing red, with a few yellow trimmings and Tim was his usual color-blind self and had green pants, a yellow jacket and a black suit tie.

I made a bad joke that we looked dressed like we were trying a bad cosplay of my favorite Disney movie series. Two confused dudes, a YouTube link to the song, a few groans from Donald and the rest, was history. The fans loved it. We even licensed a instrumental of the song as our theme.

“Come on, Donald. Your just jealous I got to be the handsome rogue Panchito Romero Miguel Junipero Francisco Quintero González III!” I stated, with a dramatic flourish of my arms.

‘José Carioca’ cleared his throat. “As nifty as it is that you managed to memorize that damn name... now's not the time, dude.”

I made a grimace, and let my arms drop. “Right, right...”

Alexander nodded again, before clearing his throat. “Right people! Shows over!”

There was a bit of mutterings and interested looks, but nobody stopped us as we jogged to the bath-rooms.

Judging from how Robert was standing stock-still in the doorway to one of them, staring into the mirror over the sink with wide eyes and hand still on the handle? Yeah, clearly this had been news to him.

I barely got out the hey in “Hey, Robert...” before he unfroze and darted inside. Looking positively terrified.

I looked at my companions... But both of them were just making sweeping motions towards the door and me.

Sometimes it sucks being a people person.

I sighed, before walking up to the door and knocked. “Robert? You alright?”

A weak laugh, that went on a bit too long was my reply. Oh boy…

I sat down on the side of the door. This seemed like it could take awhile.

“It's Morgan. Me and the other Caballeros are here... You want to talk about this?”

The two made noises in agreement, to show that they really were there, before following my example off settling down and letting me talk with the sys-admin.

“...Nothing's wrong. Go away.”

I sighed. There are lies, there are blatant lies, there are statistics and then there was that. “Robert, the whole company saw you. Your growing ass-long, platinum blond hair and your eyes have changed color. Please, let us help.”

“...How?”

Now that, was the million dollar question... But even if the ‘Morgan-cave’ leaves much in genetic testing and manipulation tech to desire, there were still more baser things within my and my friends power to help.

“Just letting you know you have ears you can trust. I know we aren't exactly bosom-buddies, but I'm not letting somebody go through something like that alone, if I can help it...”

Tim and Abraham murmured vaguely positive sounds, echoing my sentiment.

“...Oh.” A disappointed voice came through the door. From the sound of it, he had had a small, if irrational hope, that we somehow had a silver bullet so to speak.

A long period of silence followed, before he spoke again. “...You know anything about this stuff?”

...He had to ask. That meant non-brony. Or a ex one, no longer keeping up with the community. I thought how to best tell a grown man, that there was wild rumors flying about Kafkaesque metamorphoses... but into pastel ponies from an old animated TV show instead of into vermin.

And that he for-fills some of the rumored symptoms.

I winced silently.

...Yeah, this will be a barrel of laughs.

I flipped open my smart-phone, doing a quick search on Equestria Daily.

“...Do you have your phone on you?” I said.

“...Why?”

.”...There’s... wild rumors circulating. About... a new condition. I thought I should show you a link. Might make it easier to swallow...”

“...What kind?” He sounded both worried and incredulous.

I let out a sigh. But he just sounded so lost as well. “...I'm not sure you'll believe me. But... changes, like that? It fits the rumors...”

I heard him start sobbing softly.

I decided to try another angle of attack. “...Slightest chance it would help, if I told you it looks good on you?”

He chuckled weakly, but at least the sobbing stopped. “...Sorry, I'm taken and your not my type.”

My ears began to burn as my friends snickered. “Just a friendly compliment...”

Another long silence followed. When next he spoke, some of the life had returned to his voice. Small favors. “Just tell me.”

Ugh, if he knew what he was asking. “...I'm warning you, its weird.”

That actually got a weak chuckle from the man. “I've spontaneously turned blond. I think I can take it...”

Well, he did ask for it... “...Any chance you just got a tattoo from nowhere a day or two ago? That's supposedly one of the first signs.”

And one of the few things people seemed to be in agreement on at the moment. Thanks to rumors, people that thought it was only a role-playing trend and outright lies and misinformation from bastards.

Strange, I could actually hear the shocked silence from within the bathroom. It was as if a tiny part of the room, started sucking all sound towards it. “...Yes.”

I was already surfing the MPL:FIM wiki, looking for that eye and hair color combo. I just knew I had seen it, but where? “Care to describe it to me? You saying it first, might make it easier to believe that I'm not bluffing about this.”

“...That bad?”

“X-files or The Twilight-zone, mixed with just a dash of Peevee's Playhouse or Sesame street… So yes, that bad.”

He started laughing, but the sound died quickly when we didn’t join in. “Oh, god... You're not joking.”

“Wish I where.”

“...Is this a prank?” My friends and I winced at the question. “If so, please stop, it isn't funny...”

“I swear I had nothing to do with it, if it is.”

“...You sure?”

I failed to hold in a sigh of annoyance. “Robert, yesterday you were a clean-shaved redhead. A hairgrowt compound capable of also effecting hair and eye color like that might be worth billions. If I had a chemical capable of doing that I most certainly wouldn't be using it on pranks.”

I ding from my phone told me I had a chat invitation. “...A apple-pie.”

Oh god. Immediately on hearing that it finally clicked...

I shared a disturbed look with Tim and Abraham, telling me instantly that they as well had come to the same conclusion.

‘Granny’ Edith Smith. Closest bloody thing the biggest family of movers and shakers in Equestria had to a matron.

And old enough to have seen Ponyville founded.

This could be bad.

But I steeled myself, and once I knew who I was looking for... I had a link within moments, sent it and only a few more later I heard a ding from behind the door.

“...Anything that looks familiar?”

The silence was horrible. One of those that seemed to go on for ever. Things just getting more tense, as it did.

The only sound, his finger scrolling.

It was several minutes after even that sound stopped, before he said anything.
“...This is crazy.” He sounded... flat. Not a shred of emotion.

I grunted in affirmation. That was certainly a fair summation. “...Yeah, want a link to a news-site that's been cowering this a little?”

“...Please.”

I complied. Passing time by twiddling my thumbs while he read.

“...I've never heard of this stuff before.”

I hummed in acknowledgment.

“...So why the fuck does so much of it give me Déjà vu?!”

I winced at the volume so close to my ears. At least he seemed to have regained his emotions, for good or ill…

“I don't know...” I stated honestly. “You saw the state of ED, right? The whole thing is in chaos. Every theory crazier than the last.”

“...You a fan?”

I nodded absentmindedly, before realizing that he couldn't actually see me. “Yeah. All three of us.”

“What's your crazy theory?”

“...Before seeing it with my own eyes? I honestly thought it was just a stupid bit of viral marketing for a reboot, or something. Or crazy fans having lost it. Something like that.”

“...What do I do?”

I made damn sure my voice was as soft as possible, before continuing. “If I were you? Get in contact with your friends and family. Show them pictures of the... process, as proof. Maybe find somebody of them that lives a bit from the city, just in case.”

“...Oh god...” He said, before starting to sob again.

“...Look, open the bloody door. You clearly need a shoulder and a hug.”

The sobbing stopped instantly... but I didn't hear a sound of him approaching the door.

I think I can see the problem... “If it's a pathogen, the whole building is probably already infected and I can imagine worse fates than getting turned into a small, cute horse with magic. Just come out.”

He was silent for another extended pause, but I did note some hope in his voice when it stopped. “...Magic?”

I mentally cursed for letting my mouth run and giving him what might almost certainly be a false hope. “..Well, on the show, at least. I haven't exactly held a long series of interviews with any afflicted, or anything.”

“...Tell me.”

Oh boy, I thought, as I tensed with a grimace. I couldn't have had this conversation with a future ruler of the sky and storms or a wielder of the forces of wonder and ruin, oh no, that would have been far, far too easy…

I fought back an urge to grit my teeth.

Fuck you too, multiverse.

“Er, earth-ponies have prehensile hair...” I began hesitatingly.

“What.”

I hushed my snickering friends with a withering glare, before continuing. Trying my best to make my voice sound like a bastion of certainty and order. The poor dude needed it. “I'm starting with the least impressive thing and working my way up, alright?”

“...OK...” He said, voice barely a whisper.

“Hey, it means that... even if this goes all the way, you'll still have some means of fine manipulation. That's good news, right?”

“...Sure.”

“...It was never given a good explanation on the show, but they hinted quite severely about deep connection with nature... Green thumbs, an easier time understanding animals, the whole rock-farming thing...”

“...Rock farming?”

“Think... magic replicators. But instead of a alcove in a wall and energy, it uses useless rocks, a dusty field, a ‘seedling’ of the material you want and somehow the magic of a earth-pony allows the stuff to spread and grow...”

“...Like tiberium?”

“Minus it being unstoppable, deadly and not effecting living things, sure...”

“...Does it work on gold?”

I just had to laugh at that. The others, even Robert himself, joined in.

...Strangely no Trixie I noted absently. She'd just been dead quiet since the rumors began...
I suppressed the shiver that snaked down my spine. One pony ‘problem’ at a time.

Besides... “You still online and have the wiki loaded?”

“...Sure.”

“Search for bit. B-I-T.”

He hesitated for a moment, before I heard the blip-bloop of virtual buttons once more.
A low whistle a few moments later told me he had found the right page.

“Just a friendly warning. The show hinted repeatedly that the process makes watching paint dry seem like the very exemplar of excitement and it requires that you keep moving the rocks around, for some reason...”

“Thanks...” He hesitated for a moment. “...But why do this for me?”

I felt a bit hurt by the question, to be honest... “What? A cynic isn't allowed to indulge in a bit of altruism?”

“You know what I mean. This... thisness, could be spreading for all I know... Why... stop and help a dude you're only a work acquaintance with?”

I started thinking it over...

“...You still there?”

He actually sounded a bit scared... “Just thinking my answer over.” I instantly got a relieved sigh from the man.

The real answer was that I had long ago given up on my body doing anything but slowly collapsing inward... But for some reason and I can't imagine why, people tend to get depressed when I say stuff like that... so I try not to.

Turning into a pastel pony? Well, I had a hard time imagining my health getting worse from the ordeal.

Bloody hell. On some of the really bad days? I was sometimes genuinely surprised how often I managed to drag myself out of the bed.

...Even if I fully expected my luck on that front, to dry up sooner or later.

...But then again, sometimes it is simply a matter of presentation.

“...You know that I'm a transhumanist?”

Robert and my friends groaned. I may have been a wee bit to enthusiastic during LPs featuring the subject.... and Robert also served as our editor.

“...Fine, fine. I know I can be a bit too into it...” I grumbled.

“Are you saying... you think this is a good thing?” He sounded confused... and a little angry.

“...You familiar with the concept of a mixed blessing?” I quickly clarified.

“...Sure.”

“Think of it like this... What is the core of my philosophy?”

“...Finding ways to improve yourself?”

“Exactly... And I wasn't done listing the thing earth-ponies are capable off...”

“...They're called what?”

“I know, I know... I guess it is in some ways better than... I don't know, the blargians, the xonianz or something... But they really should have thought of a better name...”

Now, I'm no wizard... or even more than a amateur when it comes to occultism whatsoever, really... But names do have power, just not in the ‘make your heart explode’ way…

To my knowledge. Trixie has refused to comment.

But think about it. If offered two meals, which would you take? Mountain oysters… or cocked sheep testicles? Even small things, like that. Whoever picked the name earth-ponies, a name that begins with a synonym for dirt and common, really dropped the damn ball.

For fictional characters.... Unfortunate, but not that important... But now that the whole pony business seemed to be real? I mean, come on. And compared to unicorns and pegasi, with all those names implied in tales and legends? It was just begging to be the cause of many major minority complexes.

Another reason to boost the poor bastards self-esteem... If not, a reason I intended to tell him either. Drawing his attention to it would be counterproductive.

“Anyway,...” I continued. “...only one more, but its a doozy.”

I paused for dramatic effect, noting with glee that I even heard him hold his breath.
“Supernatural toughness.”

“...Really?” For more or less the first time during the discussion he actually sounded hopeful.

I did my best to press the advantage.

“Oh yes. Strength, stamina, constitution and dexterity. The whole package, multiplied by pony.”

“...How strong?”

I chuckled a bit internally. Total munchkin, as usual. Perhaps we should switch games from poker at the game-nights a bit more often…

And I knew of the perfect example.

“Do a search for Hearts warming's eve.”

“...What?”

“In-show solstice festival, based on an old legend. The important part? A three way historical brawl between the pegasi, that had complete air-superiority and weather-control, the unicorns with wizards and magic... and the earth-ponies held their own against both. Think about those implications.”

Tim decided to speak up. “Hell, the whole near complete control of food production? The earth-ponies would have probably won if it wasn't for the windigos. Scorched earth tactics, anyone?”

I blinked, and Robert gave off a small, but impressed murmur. I must admit, I hadn't even thought about that angle.

The clicking of the lock, took us by surprise. I quickly scooted over to Tim and Abraham, both to get clear of the door and give Robert some space.

Robert stood in the doorway, looking a bit sheepish. He had cleaned up, but it was still clear from the redness around his eyes that he'd lost if for a little bit…

And there wasn't a single red strand on his head left.

“...Damn,” I said, feeling suave and well-spoken like a boss... “...scientific curiosity, do the curtains match the drapes?”

Or not. Being the people person of a group is somewhat relative…

Robert just stared at me, before facepalming.

I put a hand to my face and coughed embarrassed, as I heard the soft ‘pats’ as my two friends followed Robert's example. “...Sorry dude, it just slipped.”

A small smile tugged at his lips. “...What if they do?” He said, lifting his foot and shaking his pants-leg.

I shivered as a horrible mental vision came to me, of the man in front of me with prehensile pubic braids reaching his ankles.

…Brain-bleach! My kingdom for brain-bleach!

Trixie made a retching sound at the back of my mind. “Trixie concurs.” She projected towards me.

A slow, terrible smile spread over Robert's face. “Did you know I know how to juggle?”

My horrified expression – And of my friends that looked just as shocked. - must have been just what Robert was hoping for, because he just started to laugh himself silly. Tim and Abraham soon started themselves. Even Trixie joined in.

I didn't, but I did smile. Good that he seems to be on the right track…

To shorten the rest, all three of us gave him our phone-numbers, he went home for ‘health reasons...’

And guess what the crazy bastard did five days later? She went back to work.

No fanfare. No phone-call to any of us. Just walking in wearing a modified bathrobe and back to work.

...And the same day, I am sad to say, five other people sent in their letters of recognition. Most for ‘health’ or ‘family’ reasons…

Bastards. Like such a gesture would actually accomplish anything by then, other then hurt somebody that is already having a hard time.

I don't think a single person in the building fell for it. Especially not with the rumor mill being what it is... Hell, even most of our viewers have put one and one together, despite Robert/Edith being a presence mostly behind the cameras.

Still, glad that she trust us enough to risk something like that.

To be honest, I'm not sure I would have had the balls. Metaphorically speaking…

“You alright, Morgan? You looking a bit distracted...”

I blinked at my boss that was watching me with a worried look. Oops. “Sorry, boss. Just got a bit distracted. Last couple of weeks have been weird and... Well, you know. Made my mind wander.”

Abraham snorted. “You and your trains of thought...”

I snorted right back. “Said the guy that spends day after day in his basement, tinkering...”

“Hey! As soon as I get or figure out a power-source that isn't complete shit...”

“You've been tinkering with that homemade exoskeleton for almost a decade now. Why don't you just swallow your pride and buy one of the civilian models?”

Alexander nodded. “We have one of the old HAL 5's at home. Not the best or latest, but really practical when you need to do something straining...”

Abraham made a grimace of disgust. “They're for lifting grandma's in and out of bed! Moving furniture! Boring stuff like that! Do you have any idea how bulky, slow and noisy most of them are?”

“...Why not a second hand military one, then?” Tim hesitatingly offered.

“Come on,” I plainly stated. “jokes aside, obviously would-be Mr. Tony Stark here has greater dreams then being able to clean under his fridge easier. Let the man dream.”

Abraham beamed a smile at me.

“...As long as he doesn't try a home-brewed direct man/machine interface, or adding death-rays to it, of course...” I continued, smirking.

Abraham gave me a glare... but it was quickly replaced with a frown. “...Why would you have a problem with that first one?”

I pointed at him. “Hey, you can do whatever you want with or too your body...” He raised an eyebrow at me, clearly expecting a but. “I just don't want to lose one of my best friends to something as stupid as a botched amateur surgery.”

Abraham gave me a thoughtful nod, accepting my answer.

I did notice however, that a smile had flickered over Tim's face at the ‘one of’ part. I pretended not to notice. He didn't need to know that I knew about his spells of doubt, just because me and Abraham went back as far as we do.

...Honestly, it was cute at the start, but I’ve know him for almost a decade now. He really shouldn't be feeling like that.

I scratched my chin thoughtfully as Alexander and Abraham started talking shop. Huh, no idea the boss was a fan of the stuff, interesting…

Anyway, perhaps I should talk with Abraham about doing something each for or with Tim? It was awhile ago he and I did something on our lonesome... Granted, the same for me and Abraham, but it was clearly getting to Tim more. Perhaps…

A playful punch on the arm from the man in question, broke my concentration. “Come on. Didn't we have a horse to see about a girl?”

Me and the rest groaned. “Dude, that joke was bad... and a bit specist... I think.”

Abraham paled a bit and started swinging his arms back and forth in-front of himself defensively. “What? No-no-no-no-no! I didn-”

I held my own hands up in a calming gesture. “Relax. We know it was just a joke...”

Alexander nodded... but he looked quite serious. “...But you shouldn't joke about that. She is taking it well from what I can tell. But, well... She.”

Abraham rubbed the back of his head, clearly embarrassed. “...Yeah. Just... trying to lighten the mood, you know?”

Alexander nodded at him. “Admirable, just use another subject for jokes next time.”

Abraham gave us a sheepish grin, still scratching his head.

I pulled out my cell... and cursed at the time I saw. “Guys, we need to get moving. It's almost closing time.”

“You two coming to tonight’s game? Poker this time, I believe.” The boss asked my companions, before giving my a world weary look. “I don't think I even have to ask you...”

I stuck my tongue out at him. God, I just love working at a place with that kind of camaraderie. “Come on, Mr. You and the others love the challenge, and don't you pretend otherwise.”

My tiny boss shook his head. “How in all the hells have you not been banned from any casinos yet?”

“Simply, you very carefully lose every once in awhile.” I stated matter of factually. “Preferably big. Do it big enough and visit them seldom enough, and they don't even suspect a thing. No matter your profit margin.”

All three gave me a blank look. “...Dear lord, you didn't even hesitate.” Alexander said, slightly horrified.

I shrugged. “The house almost always wins. Why should I show the cynical twits any mercy? Besides, I haven't exactly made a career of it...”

They still looked incredulous at me.

“Look, the one way of adding a bit of tactics and strategy into the mix. Making the damn games interesting... and they flip their shit if they find out. Let them be boring if they want. I will not.”

A smile tugged at my lips, as a proud laugh form Trixie flooded my mind's ear. “That's my boy!”

Abraham recovered first from my flexible morals. Honestly, he really shouldn't be surprised by now... “...Anyway, shall we?”

I nodded, before walking off. Trying to figure out just what I wanted to ask Edith and how to phrase it...

As my tall, lanky friend walked off from me, the boss and Tim... I just had to shake my head. That such a nice dude could be so damn underhanded... He didn't show that side often and it always managed to blindside me.

He stopped and turned his raven crowned head. “You coming?”

A bit over two meters, thin enough to hide behind a lamp-post, one of those so sure of themselves they really stride everywhere....

And as always, those blazing eyes of his. Near glowing with will and intelligence.
No wonder he got all the attention from the dames…

“Just a moment.” I said. “You go ahead.”

He nodded once, then turned his head and stalked off. Barely making a sound, despite the stone-floor.

(...I felt a pang of jealousy at that. I wouldn't want his health for it, but I've always been fascinated with how he manages such precise and refined movement, even for such small things like that. Makes me feel like a bull elephant in a china-shop, sometimes...)

My eyes darted over his hands. His sunken cheeks. How when you looked closer, how his clothes hung on him.

Yeah, the dames loved him, all right...

...Until they got close enough to see that his thinness wasn't a sign of good health.

I suppressed a shiver. And that was while he was awake... I'd seen him sleep a couple of times, during trips and similar…

As soon as you didn't see that fire in his apple-green eyes…

My best friend... and the closest damn thing I'd seen to a real-life walking corpse.

I bit down a frustrated sigh. Damn it, I don't want to think like that. And yet, I can't stop myself from it.

“...So, Abraham, Tim,...” Alexander, our patron and boss, asked hesitatingly. “...What's your opinions?”

“He really shouldn't tempt fate like that,...” I said. “...the casinos aren't things you should trifle with.”

“...Well, that too,” The short man said. “but I was thinking more about his worries about... Well, Trixie.”

I grunted and nodded. Tim following my example.

I fidgeted a little, while I thought my answer over. In front of a camera was OK, but I had never been a extrovert and face to face conversations where something I preferred to stay in the background for.

“...She's been around for as long as I can remember.” I started hesitatingly. “She's disturbingly independent for a voice in my friends head, but I have a hard time imagining her being a part of the stuff going on right now...”

Alexander nodded, but Tim's face scrunched up in concentration.

“What?” I asked.

“...Didn't you two meet in kindergarten?”

What did that have anything to do with it? “Yeah, so?”

He didn't answer directly, but instead fished for his cell and after quickly doing something with it, handed it to me. “Bloody knew it. See something weird?”

I looked at it. He had gone in on the Wikipedia page for My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic... Odd choice. For most stuff, the fan wiki's is more detailed. Why point me at this one?

I raised an eyebrow at him, but he only made a ‘go on’ gesture... Hmm…

I decided to cut to the chase. “Look, I'm fairly certain I can figure it out eventually... but we are in a bit of a hurry. Any hints?”

“Look at the air-dates.”

I re-raised my eyebrow, but did as he instructed... What the?

“...First aired tenth October 2010? But... can that really be right?”

Alexander sucked in a breath. Tim just nodded, looking thoughtful.

My (somewhat neglected, sure, but still there) researcher’s instincts kicked in. There had to be a rational explanation for this... even if, to be fair, the world had turned into a weird place lately.

“...Might just be a coincidence...” I started. Even in my ears, it was clear it was more for playing devils advocate, then something I believed in. “A simpler explanation is that he made a imaginary friend that happened to be a blue unicorn... And when the show came and he became a fan of it, he latched on and re-imagined her a bit.”

“...Is Bellatrix or Trixie, a common name in Sweden?” Tim countered after a short contemplation.

I tried to remember if I had ever heard him call her anything else... But it was too long-ago. My memories of that time was fuzzy…

Except when we first met. A tall, gangly boy walking up to me with a stuffed unicorn on his shoulder…

Blue, with white hair and purple button eyes.

Even the fucking cape and hat.

And she asked me what I was reading, before he introduced them both to me... and explaining the concept of speaking in third person. That is the kind of thing that sticks with you.

“.... “You seem far more intelligent than the rest of this rabble of foolish foals. Trixie is curious what you're reading. Would you mind telling Trixie?””

I shrugged, as the jaws of the two dropped. “That was how she introduced herself to me.. Translated from Swedish, but still. Morgan's face was beet-red, as he apologized for her...”

Tim found himself first. “...Well, that is certainly... in character.”

I scratched the back of my head. “...Yeah. Somewhat beyond what I would call a reasonable set of coincidences...”

Alexander looked a bit dumbstruck. “...And you became best friends after that?”

I chuckled softly. “What can I say? They were weird and interesting. That goes along way when you're that age...” I added a shrug. “And they were actually willing to talk about more than cooties, crayons and eating glue. Like books and stuff.”

The two shook their heads. “You two are weird...” Both said, in near perfect unison.

I shook my head. If reading at age six is wrong... Then fuck normality. I let out a sigh and focused on the important bit, though. “...Should we do anything?”

Tim tilted his head. “...So, hypothetically... If Trixie is more then a voice in our friends head... What is happening right now, when he is holding her in?”

Alexander froze, but I just shook my head. “They've done this before. When Morgan has gotten grief over her presence. She's usually back within a week, grumpy but OK.”

Tim still looked troubled. “...It's been... What? Six months?”

I grunted. “...I've gotten the impression Miss Ah!-Oh-No,-A-Horse!-Ahhhh! Gave him some-manner of ultimatum... They had a big fight, roughly when the doll went into the closet this time...”

The duo winces.

“Come on, you've seen how his eyes cross. And you heard what he said about ‘A voice from nowhere would be weird.’ He's obviously still talking to her, just not...” I stumbled, looking for the right words.

“Letting her out?” Tim said softly, before drawing a breath and continuing. “...I have a very hard time imagining Trixie standing down from being on a scene willingly...”

Now it was my turn to wince. Yeah, same for me. Still... my oldest... pair of friends, if this turned out to be what all signs pointed at…

They both deserved the benefit of the doubt.

“...How about this? He intends to have a chat with Edith later, right?” I offered.

They both nodded at me.

“Let's see where it goes. For now.”

Tim tilted his head again, doing his weird little habit of not looking at the person he was talking to, but rather everything and everybody else. “I don't remember Edith ever even hinting at hearing or talking with... Well, Edith.” He finished awkwardly, ending with a shrug.

Alexander bit his lip, deep in thought. “...Nobody here actually think she's just a... I don't know, a split personality, or something... Do they?”

I shrugged. “The way Hollywood portrays it, you mean?” I hesitated. “...Dissociative personality disorder is rare... But...”

Tim nodded. “Rare and non-existent are different things, after all...”

I shook my head. The idea sounded... wrong to me, somehow. I tilted my head. Weird. I usually don't have much in the way of intuition, but this felt damn close to certainty…

Tim was looking funny at me. It made my thought train derail. “What?”

“...You know something weird I've noticed about the blogs, the news and similar?”

I shrugged my shoulders.

“...No duplicates. None.”

I blinked. “...Go on.”

Alexander blinked, before crossing his arms and whistling low. “...Damn, that has some... implications.”

Tim nodded. “Yeah... There should be, especially of the popular ones.”

I just had to snort at the mental image of Earth near drowning in freshly converted ‘lookalikes’ of the Mane Six, the Princesses, Lyra…

Then I blinked.

And Trixie.

Now, the ensemble dark-horse among a whole bloody slew of them?

If this was a contagion, a nanovirus or... something rational, something even unintentionally let loose, there should be legions of Trixies.

(I fought down a shudder at that thought. I liked the mare, and I still thought one was more than enough...)

And there wasn't one. None I could think off that I had seen or even heard of, at least.

...Except the one I had personally known since I was six.

My mind near buckled at the implications... My eyes widened, and my mouth felt dry. “...Just what
are you saying?”

Tim hesitated. “...I'm not sure to be honest... But it is a damn peculiar pattern.”

I shook my head, trying to clear it. It felt like it was filled with cobwebs. “...To little date. Where building this hypothesis on a single verifiable data-point, one more that might be related and a whole slew of rumors and half-truths. We need to wait and see.”

Tim nodded, as he accepted his phone back. “Yeah... But we need to talk with them.”

I nodded in turn to my un-well dressed friend, as I started walking. “Sure. But after the game. Let's see what questions he asks Edith first.”

They nodded at me and we started walking.

The three of us made good time to the ‘computer’ room, although given the nature of the company it was more a gadget room. Piles of cable, old consoles and computers needing repair, controllers that would probably never work again... stuff like that. A small smile tugged at my lips.

My kind of place.

Morgan was standing in the doorway, leaning on the frame. He turned slightly and hushed us as we came closer. I raised an eyebrow at the man.

I twitched his head towards the room and whispered: “She's working, let her concentrate. This is just fascinating.”

My other eyebrow joined its brethren in a frown. Computer repair? Fascinating? What's so fascinating about that? I'd taken apart my first computer at age five!

...Granted, I put together my first computer when I was eight, but details.

...Same one, even. Mom had... issues, with my little pet project. She thought I should finish what I started.

...Damn thing was utterly useless when I finally got it together again. Totally outdated.

I grunted, both to my friend and at the memory of a lesson well learned, as I stuck my head through the doorway…

And had to stop myself from whistling.

Now, the room hadn't been... Pony adapted? Sure, let's go with that. Pony adapted yet, and Edith had dragged a couple of old sofa-cushions from somewhere, as replacement for the too tall and small chairs and tables. She sat on one of them, leaning over a computer tower resting on the floor. She was currently giving it a dusting, face scrunched up in such concentration that she hadn't even noticed us.

The nifty part? Our resident tech-expert was playing Doctor Octopus... Bayonetta style! She must have figured out the hair trick.

Her braid was undone and she had formed these tiny hair-tentacles that were rummaging around inside the dusty chassis. The majority of the hair was still hanging off her back, (And was, to my amusement, still holding the ribbon. And I do mean holding it. It almost looked like a knot, but knots don’t twitch every-once in awhile.) but the six ‘limbs’ she had formed seemed quite suited for the task at ‘hoof.’

They were... a centimeter or two, no thicker, but seemed to have a surprising amount of strength in them. As I watched, she even used a can of air without sending the strand more than one-two centimeters backwards.

...Wonder just what kind of strength earth-pony hair has? Both in the breaking point and lift capacity sense? I hummed softly and scratched my shin. That might be an interesting side-project, actually... If I could get her cooperation, that is. Might just be worth the shot...

She seemed to be almost finished, as she slid the side onto the tower... and tightened all the screws simultaneously. Nice.

...And then I had to bite back another whistle as I got my demonstration. Her hair just flowed forward and near enveloped the desktop, lifting it with no more trouble then when she had used her hands for the same task…

The angle on her neck looked more than a bit uncomfortable, though. I guess that is one downside to the technique. She sat the computer down next to a outlet, plugged it in... and gave a satisfied grunt, as the boot-up test proved successful.

I was just about to give a clap, when her hair split into three strands... and started braiding itself. It only took a few seconds, and at the end she even tied the ribbon only using the small tuft at the end.

She didn't even have a speck of dust on or in it.

The four of us started clapping... and then laugh, as Edith nearly jumped out of her skin.

She glared at us a little, but it was quickly replaced with a smile. “So, liked what you saw, huh?” Then she wiggled her eyebrows.

I started blushing. Now, I'm no... pony-sexual, or whatever stupid name that fetish will get once the mainstream latches on to it…

But a twenty-five year old Edith? Oh my, almost made me wish I was.

Morgan had confined in my that he had been worried, that we needed to keep a lookout for gray hairs and similar... so that the poor girl/guy would get some warning, at least…

Turns out, that wasn't needed. Whatever this is, seems to have no effect on age, at least.

And thank all things good and evil for that. Waking up a pony is bad enough... But as a senior, as well? Or the opposite, for that matter?

Cutie mark crusaders body snatchers! Jay!

...Now, that mental image? Cooled my confused loins down quick.

I took the opportunity to take a peek on how the others had reacted. Just for curiosities sake.
Tim... total virgin. Glassy eyes and a blush so deep it was almost a bruise.

Alexander was blushing a little, but had crossed his arms and put his hands so that you couldn't fail to notice his wedding ring. Heh.

Morgan though, nothing but a smirk. Totally shameless as usual.

In fact, he had even held up the slow clap he was doing... Even if I got the impression that the reason for it had shifted. Perhaps it was Trixie’s influence, but he had always appreciate a bit of showmanship. “Very nice. How long did it take you to figure out?” He said, as he put his hands back inside his pockets.

Edith shrugged. “A day or two. Wasn't that hard, to be honest.”

I raised an eyebrow. Hair manipulation, not that hard? “Really?”

Edith shrugged again,before starting to put away her gear. “Probably wouldn't have even passed my mind if you guys hadn't told me about it. But once I tried? I don't know, it was like it just... ‘clicked,’ you know?”

I stroked my chin thoughtfully. “...Well, it is the earth-pony version of using your hands... I guess some level of instinct for it, makes sense...”

She held up a screwdriver... somehow just sticking to her hoof. “Well, more like your fingers, but I see what you meant.”

I leaned a little closer, noting to my amusement that I was not the only one that did so. It looked... almost, but not quite, like a heat-haze around part of her hoof. But instead of rising, it clung around the tool in lazy coils…

She wasn't even holding it as such, there was a thin but clear line where I could see the room behind. As if the thing was quantum locked to her hoof.

Just utterly fascinating.

I glanced at my companions again.

Alexander had already leaned back, ‘Oh, that's neat.’ written on his face. Polite interest, nothing more.

Tim... Looked fascinated, but a bit troubled. No doubt a part of him, however small, was worried just where Edith was really drawing these powers from... Can't say I blame him, even if I worried more about the physical and mental price, rather than the spiritual.

But Morgan? There was this... fire in his eyes. A hunger, I don't think I had ever seen burn quite so bright.

I cursed internally. I'd actually forgotten that old wound of his.

You see, Morgan used to be deeply into the occult. When we were both... twelve, fourteen? Something like that. Seances, voodoo, hoodoo, curses and blessings…

For a while, he tried everything short of writing a contract in blood and sticking it into the lock of a church door.

I suppressed a shudder. To my knowledge.

Bloody hell, once he tried a old recipe for a love-potion... On the classes two worst bullies.

Björn and Anders. Kinda sad it didn't work actually... Would have rocked their little worthless worlds and they would have made a cute couple…

(I shuddered as another memory tried to resurface, one about those two and Morgan... But I fought it down. They had gotten what they deserved, that was the important bit.)

But that was the thing. None of it had worked... except to deepen his reputation as ‘That Weird Kid...’ I knew he still read on the subject... and still found it fascinating.

He had simply utterly given up hope of ever getting a use for any of it.

...And now, ponies walked the real world.

Magical ponies, with mystical magic powers.

Of magic.

Oh yeah, I would need to keep an eye on him. Stop him from acting foolish.

...Granted, he usually managed to remain on top of that amoral streak of his... But if he lost the chance at even attempting to learn magic by coming on too strong? I don't think he would ever forgive himself.

He must have realized it himself, because I saw him lean a bit more against the door-frame, forcing himself to go a bit less tense. He cleared his throat. “...What's it like?”

Such simple words... and yet there was something I never thought would come from Morgan off all people in them.

Morgan, who thought (not so secretly) that even spiritualism was a waste of time.

Morgan, that thought that even declaring yourself a agnostic atheist was a waste of time and brain power. (Took awhile before I talked to him again over that one...)

Morgan, that thought openly that the pope should be tried for crimes against humanity... (Or more directly, the children of humanity... That one I actually agreed with.)

Morgan... had just asked such a simple question in such awe, it bordered on reverence.

...Damn, you think you know somebody...

The room (and corridor) got very quiet at that. Apparently, I was not the only one taken by surprise.

Edith snatched up the screwdriver she had dropped, clearly a bit embarrassed. “...Umh... Kinda nice, I guess?”

Morgan raised an eyebrow. “Your warping... what, gravity perhaps? To hold a screwdriver, and it is ‘kinda nice?’”

I looked closer at the disturbance... Hmm, gravity may cause a lensing effect and earth-ponies are connected (allegedly) to the earth, something that implies mass and those kind of forces... But for it to be visible like that? Without turning the room into a fine paste? The forces involved were in that case utterly beyond me.

...Like magic, even.

Edith quickly trotted (with a ‘limp’ since she was still holding the tool) over to her workbench, before (almost to quickly) turning and stuttering out: “Y-y-yeah...”

Morgan stared at her for a moment... before throwing his head back and giving of a deep, merry laugh.

The damn thing was infectious, and the last thing I saw before I closed my eyes and followed my mate's example...

Oh sweet mercy, that is just utterly adorable!

Was Edith blushing like a fire-truck, rubbing her front-hooves together. The end of her braid and tail, twitching like a irritated cat's.

Author's Note

Author's comment:

For those that are confused about the ‘The Three Caballeros’ bit…

This might prove illuminating.

This as well.

Chapter Three V2: A Tiny Thing, A Single Spark...

Chapter Three: A Tiny Thing, A Single Spark...

As I Smiled And Watched My Friends Laugh Their Heads Off At Edith's Embarrassment...

I Couldn't Help My Eyes Drifting To Morgan, Wondering Once More If I Should Confide In Him About My... Guardian Angels.

Even As I Thought Of It, I Felt The Most Active Of The Pair Stir…

And I Tensed Slightly From Old Habit As She Began To ‘Speak.’

MaY wOrK, mAy NoT... SuCh Is PrIcE aNd FoUnDaTiOn Of TrUsT, eVeN tHaT mIsPlAcEd.

I Relaxed Slightly As She Seemed Calm This Day. She Means Well… But A Voice That Becomes A Mixer Full Of Razors When Its Owner Is Angry Is Somewhat… Unpleasant, Inside Your Head…

And Yet Anger Was The Unsubtle Threat Of Her ‘Voice...’

But Her... Whispers, As Creepy As They Sounded, Had Not Steered Me Wrongly Yet... Even If They Were Frustratingly Cryptic, More Often Than Not.

KnOwLeDgE iS pOwEr... AnD iT’s OwN dReAd PrIcE. YoU aRe NoT rEaDy FoR cAnDiD tRuThS, mY sWeEt WaRd... NoT yEt.

A Shiver Snaked Down My Spine, As I Knew She Was Telling Me The Truth.

...But That Didn't Mean I Had To Like It.

A Laugh, Somewhere Between The Sweet Bubbling Of A Brook And The Metallic Scream Of A Machine Tearing Itself Apart, Grated Across My Minds Eye.

Most Would Have Clutched Their Heads And Screamed At Such A Sound... But To Me, It Meant Familiarity And Safety.

...And Yes, I Am Aware That That Is Not Normal.

ClInG tO tHaT sHaRd oF sAnItY hArD, mY sWeEt WaRd. YoU wIlL nEeD iT fOr WhAt WiLl CoMe.

...Why?

Oh SwEeT, sWeEt WaRd... FoRgIvEnEsS gRaNt Me, BuT i CaNnOt RiSk BrInGiNg LiGhT tO tHaT dArK...

I Bit Back A Sigh Of Frustration... All These Years, And She And Her Companion Had Not Even Given Me A Name...

HaVe NoNe, OnLy MaNtElS, mAsKs AnD tItLeS... AlL, aLl, AlL, sO eMpTy oF wOrTh, ChOiCe, VaLuE aNd WaRmTh...

I Had To Lean Against A Wall To Brace Myself. Normally, Her Whispers Where Warm And Comforting... A Warmth For The Mind And A Balm For The Spirit.

Not The Last One.

It Had Howled. As Cold As Deepest Winter, And With As Much Bitterness And Longing, As If Spoken By The Last Man On Earth Over His Lover's Body...

...UnTiL yOu.

Pride, Oh Lord, Such Pride. The Sheer Warmth, Mass And Burning Hope Of It, Drove Me To My Knees. I Vaguely Felt Alexander Move To Brace Me, But It Felt So Far Away.

When Next My Guardian Spoke... I Nearly Screamed. It Was Like Staring Into The Very Core Of A Inferno Of Fury... Where A Thousand Defiant Blades Were Being Tampered, For A Battle That Would Be Won, No Matter The Cost.

ThAt BrOkEn, WoRtHlEsS, iNcOmPeTeNt MoNsTeR wIlL NOT hAvE yOu! EvEn If I mUsT tEaR tHe SkY aSuNdEr! NoT eVeN iF iTs ElDeRs AiD iT, wIlL i OfFeR mErCy oR rEsPiTe!

My Head Pounded, And I Vaguely Felt Something Drip From My Nostril. The Corridor Spun, But I Could Barely Make Out Four Blobs. My Vision Was To Blurred From The Pain To Do Anything More.

FoRgIvEnEsS, mY wArD. She “said,” her words once more portends of warmth and safety. My FuRy ItS dIkE bRoKe. It ShAlL nOt OnCe MoRe CoMe To PaSs...

I Reached Up With My Fingers... And They Came Back, Red And Sticky. Blood.

As The Presence In My Head Faded, A Note Of Shame Departing With It, I Noticed That Somebody Was Speaking At Me. I Focused At them...

As much as I felt extremely mixed about my new hooves and the body that accompanied them, I must admit a shiver of delight danced across my spine when I managed to be first at Tim’s side despite having been the furthest away from him. It was hardly subtle thanks to the clopping sound, but man could I move when I wanted to...

But now was hardly the time for introspection.

“You alright?” I asked again, trying not to sound as panicked as I felt.

We were just talking when Tim just... collapsed.

Abraham was halfway down the corridor when Tim finally focused on me. “...Will be. Ugh, my head...”

The sound of Tim's voice made him turn back, but jogging instead of running.

I quickly grabbed the hand Tim was about to drag through his hair with a hoof. “Don't. Your fingers are covered in blood.”

He blinked groggily at me, before nodding and carefully folding his hands on his shirt.

“...What happened?” Morgan asked.

I glanced up at the towering stick of a man. He was just standing there, arms folded at his back and with cold, but worried eyes.

He looked more like a soldier prepared for battle, then a friend standing over a comrade.

I gulped. He may have helped me greatly during the last... horrible week, but there was just something off about the man to me.

Morgan folded himself with one smooth motion, sitting down on one knee and holding up a clenched hand in-front of Tim's face. “How many fingers, Tim?”

“...Zero?”

The cold in Morgan's eyes just evaporated. Poof. One moment there, the next, gone. Damn, did he look like that when he was sitting outside that bathroom with me? A smile, as warm as his eyes had been cold spread across his face. “You had us worried. What happened?”

Tim closed his eyes and leaned his head back, frowning. Morgan put a hand on his head and gently made him put it level again. “Don't, you'll have blood flowing back. Might end up in the wrong pipe.”

Tim frowned again, but gave the man a thumbs up, eyes still closed.

Suddenly, I got an idea. I quickly walked over and grabbed one of the pillows I’d pressed into service as replacement office chairs, using my teeth.

Trying not to taste the old cloth and stuffing, I swiftly returned and spat the thing out on his lap. “Here, use this.”

“Good thinking.” Morgan murmured approvingly at me, as Tim grabbed the pillow and nestled it into place behind his head. He didn't say anything, but the relief on his face was thanks enough.

I flashed a smile at the man. He may give me the heebie-jeebies, but anybody that cares for his friend like that, can't be all bad.

“...Should we call an ambulance?” Alexander said, worried, but he too had kept his cool.

Morgan shook his head. “Tim has had these sudden headaches before. The doctors haven't found anything. Just give him something to drink and a couple of minutes to get on his feet, and he should be fine.”

For a moment, I thought the lights had gone out... But no, it was as if a darkness clung to Morgan. A nimbus around the man, where light simply wasn't... and yet I could see him just as clearly. It lasted only for a couple of moments, but something about it was... both frightening and familiar.

He took a deep breath, as if calming himself... and just like that, the oppressive feeling around him was gone.

What. The. Fuck.

O-K, Edith. Calm down. Must be a pony thing. Ask Morgan later. He's been nothing but helpful, so far. You can trust him on this...

...I hope.

It took a moment or two, for the young man to center himself, but when he next spoke his voice was soft. “Tim... Have you had nosebleeds before? In conjunction with the pain, I mean?”

Tim gave a slow, shallow nod. “Years ago. The doctors didn't find anything then, either...”

Morgan frowned, but seemed to except the words. “You want me to drive you home? Let you get some rest?”

For a moment, it looked as if Tim would protest... but then he clutched his head again. “...Yeah, please. I think it triggered a migraine this time. Everything is just so bright...”

Abraham walked over to Alexander, and put a hand on his arm. Then he leaned in a whispered something to him. Alexander's eyes widened slightly, before leaning away and talking. “You had a coughing attack just a bit over an hour ago. Let me do it.”

Morgan took a deep breath, steeling himself again. “...Fine. Want me to go with you both?”

Alexander shook his head. “No need.” He jerked his head towards me. “You had something to ask Edith, right? That's also important...”

I looked between the two, trying to fight the pang of paranoia I felt. So far, work had been a bastion of stability for me. I really, really, really, hoped that wouldn't change...

I fought back tears. Too many damn things had changed for me recently. I just... wanted it to stop. For the world to turn sane again, just long enough for me to find my center.

Morgan must have noticed, because he turned towards me and smiled. “Nothing bad, just curiosity. If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine too.”

I chuckled and scratched the back of my head with my braid. “...Sorry, dear. Last week has been trying for me.”

Morgan nodded, before rising again. “...I get that,” He said, voice still soft. “but I thought I should ask you if it's alright I ask my questions at the poker table?”

I blinked at the man. “...Why?”

“I don't think I'm the only one interested in the answers... “ He stated plainly, the other nodding. Even Tim, despite being dazed.

Morgan took a deep breath again, steeling himself once more. “...I'm going to be blunt. I'm worried. I'd like to know how it started, how long it took... Things like that.”

I locked eye with him. Searching his apple-green eyes for any hint that this was a trap or cruelty of any sort... Forcing back the near tide of Déjá Vu that flooded over me, at seeing eyes that color.

...And I just couldn't place it. It felt as if I was forgetting... something very, very important. Like my mothers face, a lover's voice, or something. But not even a glimmer surfaced, so I focused on the present.

But no, I saw nothing untoward in those eyes. Just kindness and patience... and hope.

I let out a sigh. Darn it. I didn't want to talk about it, but refusing somebody asking so nicely after having done so much for me? Not gonna happen.

And then he twisted the knife, just because he saw me hesitate. Fuck.

“...I think I might have it too.”

I was the one that took the deep, calming breath this time. “...Any reason why?”

“Remember Trixie?”

I nodded slowly. I'd never liked the little braggart of a overgrown and over-glorified dishrag... and I had never been able to put my finger on why. Bile just rose in my throat, whenever I saw her.

The last six blessedly Trixie free months had been wonderfulfor my blood-pressure...

But it still scared me. Why would I react like that, to a two bit ventriloquist and his sock-puppet?

A two bit ventriloquist that had been nothing but supportive and helpful, and a sock-puppet that was usually respectful, if far too full of herself.

...I may not be one anymore in the literal sense, but I still consider myself a rational man.

So why wasn't I one, on this point?

Then it clicked.

“...You think... What, that a certain wizardess was just as cheating a bastard of a nag in her previous life, as in this one?”

I have no idea what made me phrase it like that, or even say the words, but they felt right. The sky is blue right, if you follow. All of it.

“Trixie resents that! Trixie did her bucking best, and you know it you prissy show-pony!” A voice rang out. A female, shrill and familiar one.

Screaming at the top of her lungs, right by my ear.

As I winced and clutched at the aching thing, Morgan darkened again but with his face following suit this time, his eyes unfocused...

It was a open secret that his eyes crossed like that when he ‘talking’ with Trixie... And judging from how he had murder in his eyes, I was glad he kept the tirade internal.

“...Trixie would like to apologize,” she said, from roughly the height of Morgan's shoulder. “Trixie meant it, but shouting it in your ear was out of line. Sorry.”

I glared at the spot the voice was coming from. Was it just my imagination, or could I see a small blur there? Anyway, the important bit at the moment was that she seemed genuine.

The pallor that clung to Morgan faded a bit at her words, but didn't disappear entirely. The snarl on his lips doing the same.

I glanced around. Tim was still dazed... But Abraham looked terrified.

“...Apology accepted. Please pardon my words as well.” I said, stiffly but meaning them.

“...Sweet mercy, you're the real one aren't you?” Abraham said, his voice nearly a whisper.

The air darkened around Morgan again. Forming such a oppressive void, it almost sucked the breath from me. “If so, she has never seen fit to tell me. Not for twenty damn years. The twenty damn years she has called me a friend.”

You could have dissolved gold with the acid in his voice. Trixie had no reply for the rest of us, and judging from that Morgan's eyes didn't as much as twitch... neither had she one for him.

He closed them, took a deep breath with his arms closed...

And I almost wished the dark back, when he opened them. They just looked so sad and old.

“...Trixie, I if anybody know that you are many things...” He began, voice trembling with barely restrained emotions. “...but I never thought you a coward. Speak with me.”

Morgan... started crying. Two tiny flows, dribbling down unashamedly on his cheeks.

“Please.”

What happened next nearly made me jump out of my skin...

For a couple of days now, I had felt... tension, dread, hope, wonder, fear... Name an emotion minus lust and its ilk, and you have the right idea. This horrible emotional cocktail that had left me bone-weary.

But now?

I felt... betrayed. Plain and simple. All the signs were pointing towards me either having had a massive psychotic break...

Or my oldest friend had never bothered to tell my her deep, dark secret... that she was real.

At that moment, I near wished it was the first one. The other... hurt to much.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried again. “...Please,” I said, as the tears started flowing even more. “...just talk to me.”

A strange feeling came over me, startling me enough to make me stop crying. I looked down at my left hand, where the strange tingling warmth was concentrated.

A pale, purple nimbus of light, so dark a shade it was nearly black, surrounded it.

The sight took my breath away.

Magic. Almost the same color as...

I looked up, as the strange sensation built, focused somehow in the middle of the room.

...And then she just stood there. No flash, no fanfare.

A pony with a horn, reaching me a little bit less then my navel. Blue pelt. Silver hair. Magenta eyes.

A wand with a star on the end, trailing glittering motes as it swung, as a cutie-mark.

The others yelped, before settling down. Starring.

Aside from being slightly see-through... Trixie, in all her glory, if minus the hat and cape.

I carefully lifted my gaze. Including any and all things a kids show would leave out.

And she was crying, looking absolutely crestfallen.

I let my breath out. The boiling anger and bitterness replaced with... emptiness. Just emptiness.

I felt hollow. Like my heart had been torn out.

“...I am so, so sorry.” She said, spectral tears streaming down her face, but vanishing before they hit the ground.

...First person. Trixie only does that when she is feeling wretched... but she knows that I know that.

And she is a performer.

“...How long have you been able to do that?” I asked plainly. My mouth felt like ash as the words passed them. Trixie had been... less than both forthcoming and impressed, on my attempts to learn magic...

And a dark part of couldn’t help asking the question ‘Why?’

“...Two month.”

“...I see,” I said softly, but my voice cold and near dead. “how come you didn't tell me?”

She started rubbing her hooves together, not looking me in the eye. “...Trixie thought it would make a wonderful birthday surprise...”

I raised an eyebrow, as the mare took a deep breath. That... would indeed have made one heck of a present. And the time-frame held up, somewhat. My birthday was only a couple of days away.

“...then... Then... This bucking mess started. “ She said, waving a hoof at Edith. “Tr- I... just didn't know what to do. I gave up on being more than a guardian spirit decades ago! And now... n-n-now...”

She covered her head with her hooves, bawling like a babe.

Then it clicked.

Edith.

I glanced at the other mare in the room, the one looking like she didn't know if she should shout hurray or puke.

Or more precisely...

What Robert had become.

She thinks she will... overwrite me, for lack of better words. That's why she's been so quiet.

She's hoping that if she is, then she'll fade instead.

I took the steps towards her, sank down as she tensed...

And gave her the hardest damn hug I could muster. I half expected to pass clean through her, but it was the principal of the matter. But that didn't happen. It was kinda like hugging something halfway between a air filled balloon, Styrofoam and one of those sand filled stress balls. A physical presence, but a weak and brittle one.

For a moment, she just blinked and looked at me... before hugging me back and crying even harder. It was almost a wail, but heard a stream of sobbed “I'm sorry!”’s in it.

“You moronic selfish twit of a sappy biddy of a nimrod.”

Trixie tensed and stopped at my words. So did everybody else in the room.

“You honestly thought I would just let you waste away in the dark corners of my mind?” I said my voice harsh... and then I hugged her even tighter, even forcing a breath from whatever passed for ‘lungs’ on her.. My arms burned, but I didn't care. “You're the best damn thing that has ever happened to me. I damn owe near everything I have and am to you! If I thought for a second that it was you or me, then I would drag you into the drivers seat and mentally cuff you there, myself! With a bloody fucking smile!”

I relented in my hug assault, but only because I couldn't keep it up. “Never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever...”I took a deep breath. “...ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, in a million fucking years, ever, ever, ever...” I took anotherdeep breath, because I know how fucking thick Trixie's skull is.“...ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever...” Yes, that damn thick. *Gasp.* “...ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever...” Yes, that damn thick. “...ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever do that to me again!”

I took another breath and swallowed, mouth dry after my tirade. “...Friend don't keep each other in the dark like that... Not over stuff like this.” I whispered, but I am sure everybody in the room heard me. It was that quiet.

Only then did she tightened her grip in turn. “...I promise.”

“Don't get me wrong, this isn't finished...” I said, as my tears once more started flowing. “I am going to rip you a new one verbally until you'll see ‘ass-face’ as a compliment.”

“...Oh?”

“Then I'm going to look through all my old occultism books, to find a way to bind you, you dusty old ghost, to the fucking couch for a fortnight. Just to force you to sleep there!”

I ignored my friends snickering in the background. This was serious business.

“...Really?”

“Then I'm calling big-sis and telling her everything.”

That made Trixie gasp. “...Can't we talk about that last one? Please?”

“...Seriously?” I heard Edith whisper.

“Biologist that fancies herself a cryptozoologist. Her temper is almost as bad as Morgans when you finally rile her up andshe's gonna go spare once she learns she's been related to the host of a unicorn spirit all these years...”Abraham stated, smiling nearly as wickedly as I was.

Edith's mouth turned into a little O of horrified understanding.

I started laughing like a loon, as realization dawned.

“...What?” Trixie asked, clearly dreading the answer.

“I'm going to turn into a unicorn mare...”

Trixie winced.

“...and I don't care!”

The entire room made a collective “Huh?”

“Because Trixie is best pony.” I stated, as plain and simple as “The sky is big.”

Her lips twitched, but she kept a straight face. “Seriously?”

I looked at her, almost feeling the twinkle in my eye. “Always wanted to say that in a serious conversation...” Her ears twitched in annoyance, just as I leaned a bit further down and kissed her on the forehead, just above her horn. “...and yes, I was utterly serious.”

As I drew back, I saw – not to mention heard a collective “Dawwww...” - her blink away some moisture in her eyes and she was grinning happily.

Made me pause and wonder... What had it been like for her, all these years? Thought of as nothing but... a figment of my imagination?

And not only by others.

...But there was no way I would breach a subject like that when she was smiling so happily.

So I decided to a, test something that was nagging – no pun intended – on me about this little trick of Trixie's...

And b, throw her a bone.

“Trixie?”

Her smile faltered a bit, but she was looking me in the eye, so a good start. “...What?”

I held up this hand of mine, the one with the awesome glow of power on it. “Care to tell me how this works, exactly?”

I decided right then and there, judging from how Trixie's eyes almost jumped from their sockets, that the answer was properly not sunshine and rainbows. She reached out with a shaking hoof...

And I couldn't help myself and gave her a brohoof. Trixie sighed in annoyance. “Just what must Trixie do, to make you take anything seriously?”

“Hey, I take plenty of things seriously,” I said as she started examining my hand.

Trixie froze, before looking up and giving me a disbelieving look.

“High explosives, death, taxes, transhumanism, guns, bacon, coffee...”

Trixie just sighed at my ramblings, and went back to poking my hand.

“...chocolate, liquorice, ABC-weaponry, sörströmming...”

At that last one, both me and Abraham started drooling. Trixie just shuddered.

Still, the joke had gone on long enough,

“...family.”

Trixie tensed. Then I ruffled her hair with my other hand.

“And jokes aside about big-sis, sis, I cant wait to tell them this.”

Trixie went... blank. Like she didn't know if she should laugh or cry.

I leaned in again and gave her another hug. “...I won't pretend to know what the last two decades have been for you, but they're over...” I had to draw a breath and steel myself, before continuing, forcing my fears for the future to go away. “...No matter how... the others react... To me, your family, you hear?”

Trixie still looked a bit dazed, but she forced a smile. “...Thank you, that means a lot to me...”

Just as I was about to answer, somebody cleared their throat. I looked up.

Edith. And she looked as if she was near crying... and minutes from going on the warpath, all at once.

She had to swallow, despite clearing her throat... No doubt not completely trusting her voice. “If you're the... real Trixie, what does that make me?”

I winced. Hadn't thought about that.

Trixie disentangle herself from me, and trotted over. I noted with slight interest that she was accurately a bit taller then Edith. Not much, only a couple of centimeters, but it was something different from the show.

Not to mention quite a bit thinner, but there was no way I would ever say that near a earth-pony mare. I seriously doubted a buck in the nuts would improve my health.

...Even if I had to admit, the curves really suited the ‘young matron’ vibe, Edith had going.

I blinked, as I got to my feet and a thought came to me. The ‘show...’ Now there's an intriguing question... But I filed it away for further thought later. The discussion at hand, seemed more interesting anyway then theoretical perhaps...

Trixie trotted over until she was only a couple of decimeters from Edith, before sinking down on her haunches, looking her in the eye and saying calmly:

“Trixie doesn’t know.”

Edith stood still as a statue for a couple of moments... before starting to look near murderous.But she restrained herself, if barely. “...Then what do you know?” She near snarled.

Trixie looked back at me, uncertainty in her eyes... without actually rising. Damn, color me impressed at pony neck flexibility.

I gave the mare a nod. “Just tell her. If I'm somehow involved, I don't care if she hears. She's a friend, I trust her to be discrete. The same for the other in this room...”

I gave the mostly recovered – if still looking a bit dazed, if for other reasons... - Tim a look. “Even if I would like that door closed.”

He blinked, before swiftly nodding and closing the door in question.

Trixie looked at me hesitatingly for a moment, before nodding and turning back to Edith... who had a small smile tugging at her lips. Heh, guess somepony liked hearing that said out-loud...

Trixie took a deep breath... Huh, wonder if that is where I got that habit from? Anyway...

“Discord went back to being a bastard again. Trixie went on the run from Canterlot... and the last thing Trixie remember before waking up in Morgan's mind-scape was striking a deal with a Nightmare spirit that found her, to at least have a chance at beating the bastard without The Elements...”

I glanced down at the almost black glow around my hand. Oh fuck.

Still... I refocused on Trixie. What may be, will be. If the ‘Dark side’ ended up claiming me, so be it.

But I most certainly intend to do my best beforehand.

I saw her blink away a few more tears, before continuing, voice barely more than a whisper. “...I honestly thought I had... died, and this was some... ironic hell Discord had stuck me in.”

She continued, voice raised this time. She reared on her hind-legs, fury writ large on her face. “The only bucking wizard on the planet... and I couldn't even make my bucking telekinesis work! The best I've managed is this astral projection, a bucking ventriloquist spell and some very limited dream-walking! Even foals can do the last two! ”

I blinked. Damn. Note to self, ask for the long version later...

And proper magic lessons.

And why Edith went cross-eyed at the story.

Right now, we have bigger fish to fry...

“...Does it now?” I asked softly.

That made her blink, and almost topple over on her back as she froze stiff. “...What?”

“...Well, you look like a unicorn to me and...” I held up my hand. The glowing one. “...just call it a hunch, but I think it may work.”

Trixie looked... baffled, let's call it that. “...Do you have any idea how many nights I have spent, trying to make magic work, by proxy and with somebody that doesn’t have a horn, at that?”

I nodded at her forehead, and then back at my hand. “Come on, try it. If this stuff is dangerous to humans... well, that won't be a issue for me much longer, will it?” I stated, as Trixie flinched slightly.

Suddenly, Abraham of all people was right in Trixie's face. I'm usually the one with – decently controlled, but still – anger issues...

But now, he was snarling. I moved to restrain him, but he just showed me back, before turning on Trixie again.

She was just calmly looking him straight in the eye. She hadn't even put her ears back.

Abraham visibly forced himself to calm, but it was clear it was a close thing. He was shaking, and had his hands clenched so hard they were almost bone-white.

“If Morgan's health has anything with Trixie to do, then it was not intentional,” she calmly stated, not even twitching a ear.

I had to take a breath at that revelation. Hadn't had time to come to it myself.

Trixie made a come closer motion to the partially mollified Abraham, before whispering something in his ear. As soon as she finished, Abraham shoot up like a rocket, before turning and giving me a very odd look.

“...What?” I asked.

He glanced at Trixie, that was giving him a very intense warning glare, before looking back at me. “...Sorry dude, Trixie says she'll dance on my crutch wearing horseshoes if I tell you. I think she means it...”

I raised a eyebrow at my friend. He sounded completely calm again, he was even smiling... even if it looked a bit sad.

“...Nothing bad, but she want you to figure it out yourself.” He continued, still with that sad, but hopeful smile.

I shook my head at my friends cryptic statement, but accepted that it was the best I was getting at the moment.

...Then I noticed Trixie had the same smile. Sad, but hopeful.

...Anyway. “I'll drop it, for now...” I started. “...but think about it.”

I held up my hand, letting everybody in the room get a close look at my gloving appendage. “This might be just because of the whole Pony thing and Trixie... but what if it is not?”

An excited murmur flowed through the room.

“Exactly!” I said, almost forgetting myself and slamming my hands together in excitement. “What if humans are perfectly capable of using magic... We just can't see or feel it, most of the time. The trick to how, lost in time! This could make fire and the wheel, look like the invention of the drink umbrella!”

A stunned silence filled the room, every eye darting between the azure mare and my hand...

Except the mare herself. She was looking at me, pride near burning in her eyes and a fierce smile on her lips.

I carefully rubbed my hands together, noting with glee that this did nothing to the magic. A grin spread across my face. “So... My dearest Great And Powerful Trixie...”

Her ears darted backwards, a frown on her face, as she searched my futures for signs that I was messing with her. When she found none, her ears folded back again and a puzzled expression replaced the frown. “...Yes?”

“How would you like to help me with a series of experiments...”

Trixie gulped, no doubt remembering some of the things she had seen by proxy in my dads practice.

“...and maybe, just maybe...” My grin grew so wide, it must have looked like my head was about to fall off.

Trixie leaned in, waiting with bated breath.

“...become known as the mare that thought humanity how to reclaim their usage of magic?”

The room was silent when I finished, save for the buzz of the fluorescent light. A dropped pin would have echoed.Not even breathing could be heard.

A grin spread across Trixie's face, easily not only rivaling the one her show counterpart had shown when claiming the Alicorn Amulet, but easily surpassing it.

Her eyes sparkled, and she said:

“My dearest Morgan... Trixie would love too.”

As we both throw our heads back and laughed, I dreamed awake of wonder and ruin, to hold creation and destruction in my very grasp, to perform such deeds that the names of none in this tiny room would ever fade... and thought:

This just might be the start of something wonderful... I damn well sure intent to try making it so, at least...

But first, a simple test...

I snaked my hand down into my pocket, grabbing my wallet. “Hey, Trixie?”

“What?”

“Catch!” I shouted, as I threw the wallet straight at her face. She jerked back and the whole room became deathly quiet...

And I started jumping and giggling with glee.

Because everybody, including Trixie with a shocked expression and her horn aglow, was staring at the wallet floating in her aura.

Chapter Four V2: Meanwhile, In A Magical Land Far, Far Away...

Chapter Four: Meanwhile, In A Magical Land Far, Far Away...

A world away, so far that light-years would not suffice, and yet so close, that the same held true for the thickness of a single electron...

Beyond the wale of infinity and all the possibilities it held, in a world both familiar and not...

Two creatures, both older than man have had iron, both fair and foul, both that had always done their best to hold true to their inner nature....

Stirred, awakened to a whisper in this girdle of impossibility, that surrounds all worlds...

The first, a serpent, both betrayer and betrayed, lifted His tear stained head from the ground in-front of the abandoned cottage he had been meditating beside.

All around Him, chaos danced, died and was reborn. The ruins of Ponyville, twisting in the air like marionettes neglected by their puppeteer, as chocolate milk flowed in a torrent from a broken sky, not even bothering to have clouds from which the brown curtain could fall sideways from.

He sniffed at the portend of raw possibility in the air, a dark part of Him that never grew or learned, giggled in delight at what He sensed on the wind...

But the rest of Him felt dead. As it had these long, long years of waiting since the anger had faded.

...So, my little plan is almost nearing fruition... The Creature thought, as His tears turned to wooden pennies and rolled laughingly towards the EverFree.

He looked at the cottage, standing on its rolling hills, so close to the wilderness of this world. The overgrown grass roof. The wooden walls, painted brown...

Her cottage.

A pang of pain tore at the blackened nub of a heart He still had left.

...But what point is there in check-mate, when the king has lost his queen?

For not the first time, He thought of waving his talons and removing the thing. So that there would be nothing reminding Him...

Of her, always of her.

With a heavy sigh, that for just a moment betrayed the eons of His age...

And then He waved His scared talon.

But destruction was not what followed, but its opposite.

The dulled windows sparkled as the dirt jumped from them, the faded and fallen paint rose up once more to the wall it had fled, the overgrown hills and roof once more carefully tended as the grass ungrew...

Just like it had looked, all those years ago.

For one beautiful moment, The Creature could imagine lights being turned on, and a sweet, beautiful face poking out the door...

Greeting Him with a smile.

Pain stabbed once more.

It was a lie, of course. If only others knew, how much of His power was. Not a soul had set hoof within the cottage for a decade and a half.

Not even He.

There are after all, pains that may destroy even immortals.

And this... center of His cyclone, His... shrine... the one place He had felt welcome, not hated and feared...

Such hallowed ground, was not for one such as He.

Not any more.

His mistake had seen to that.

A smaller Evil, but no less foul and wretched, came jumping towards Him.

The Creature smiled, despite himself and His mood. It humored him, that he was not the first monster, whose heart she had stolen.

“...Oh, Angel...” He said, voice cracked with misuse and neglect. “...do you think she will forgive me?”

The tiny white speck of a demon, rose to his miniscule height, fore-legs crossed... And gave Him a weary shrug.

The creature nodded, as slow as the movement of the continents. “...She only...” Pain, white and hot. The Creature had to close His eyes. “...begged...” The Creature whispered, before continuing in a more normal tone. “...to be sent to her friends. I could have positioned her, to be the ruler of... that world... But that was the only thing she wanted. “

The Demon hopped up and patted comfortingly at The Creature's side.

After all, not even he was dark and twisted enough, to twist the knife in the heart of his brother in grief.

“...She might be... anybody by now. Not even I know. I didn't tailor the curse for such things.” The Creature said, tears once more falling. “...I never thought I would find a worse torture than the millennia in rock, but these few paltry years of uncertainty have proven me wrong.”

He rubbed His mismatched claw and paw together, but no heat came for Him. “...Even if she returns with...” The Abomination had to swallow to moisten His dry mouth, for some concepts disturbed even Him. “...with hatred in her heart... At least then I will know what this foolish venture of mine, has cost me...”

“And whose fault is that?” A voice rang out, belonging to the youngest of Earth's immortals..

A note of pride, dark as it may have been, flared in The Creature's chest.

At least, the youngest left.

There was anger in Her voice, but seeing a creature in torment for so long, may tamper any heart.

“Hi, Luna. Long time no see...” The creature said, His voice sad and tired. “...how's the sun nag doing?”

For the briefest of moments, the lights of the moon and stars flared in the twisted sky, matching the anger in their mistress's eyes... then all was still once more, Her rage controlled.

“Tia is doing well.” She stated, voice flat.

The Abomination glanced at His guests hooves.

A ring of brown burned ice could be seen under them, where the cold and flames of infinity made manifest itself for the briefest of moments had stood on Earth's soil.

He merely sighted at the display. Not even Her greatest Nightmare had held a candle to the torment of his waking hours.

And Even It, had fallen easily to his curse.

He sighed.

But the glimpse at that torment, and that He could not bring Himself to even pretend to ravel in His ‘victory’ had made His two oldest enemies stay their hooves...

For now, and they All knew it.

He sighed once more. “I'm too tired for games. What do you want?”

A delicate eyebrow rose at His words. “Too tired for games? You?”

“There are more fatigues then of the flesh, Lulu... And yes, I feel too tired for games...”

The Alicorn shuddered at The Abomination's cold and tired words. Not a shred of his usual mirth had been in them.

Even His eyes, just looked dead and empty. Not but a single spark of hope, remained in them.

Emptiness, would have been less cruel... and She knew He knew that, as well as Her.

“Very well...” She said, steeling Herself, trying not to spit the next words. “...we need your help.”

The Creature just stared at The Alicorn. He found Her claim so ludicrous, not even a joke or laugh was needed.

“We have finally dragged together enough mages, to mount a rescue operation...” She continued.

The Abomination smirked, despite Himself. “Sweet little Lulu, always running to her people to help them... and never getting anything but grief, in turn...”

Memories, most of them bad, flooded over The Alicorn, as She tensed at the words.

“I pity you...”

The Alicorn almost reared back, as if stuck. To hear such words, so candidly, from Him? It was almost too much to bear, and tears stung at the edges of Her eyes.

“...but this one time, you are wrong. There is no need to save them.”

He chuckled, petting the demon at his side as He did. “You may need saving from them, however...”

The Alicorn glared at Him. “Explain yourself.”

“Did you really think me cruel or unoriginal enough to turn them into mice and drop them in a realm where ninety-nine percent of all animals are decedent from the common owl, or something? Please, I have standards. I even made sure that they all will have at least a chance at happiness and health. I am not heartless.”

The Mistress Of The Night glowered at the Abomination... but She had to relent, and give the bastard His dues.

Only once had She seen Him raise his talons in anger, and even then had He used that abominable curse, to save the.... mare, in question.

Her heart ached at the memory.

But She steeled Herself. But that did not mean She had to like it. “Then care to explain?”

“They werecreatures of Harmony...” The Alicorn paled at the words and their implications. What had He done? “...so I thought it would be hilarious if I turned them into humans.”

He frowned, as Her mind reeled from the revelation.

Humans. Legendary creatures of defiance, that aspect of them only rivaled by their cleverness and cruelty... and the two combined. That nature so strong in them, that they reeled and fought even against that.

Would there be anything left She would even recognize as such, of Her subjects after twenty-five of that?

“...When Fluttershy refused my offer, the joke wasn't so funny anymore...” He offered in a pained voice, drifting off towards the end.

The Mistress Of The Night sighed. Those flashes of regret and pain... Such a cliche, but She simply could not keep Her fury burning at the sight of it.

Even if She had... What was there left to do? What wound, to drive deeper?

It was ironic, but kindness in this case was both the right thing to do... and the grimmest cruelty.

What else, would offer more hope?

“Please,” She said, Her voice softer than She thought She would have ever used again towards The Abomination. “tell me how to find them.”

He sighed, before raising His talon... The Alicorn tensed, strengthening the defensive spells she had cast, with only a effort of will...

His dread implement snapped, like it had done so many times before... But no attack came rushing forth.

A scroll had appeared, hanging in the air in-front of The Alicorn.

No flash, no fanfare... She tasted the air around it for magic, but found none.

And yet, not a single brown drop touched it, as it hung in the air.

But she knew better than to simply trust The Abomination's gifts. “What is that?”

The Creature sighed, having clearly expected the hostility. “A copy of the curse, so that you will know I'm not bluffing... Including the dimensional coordinates.”

He waved His paw lazily in the air and just like that, the storm was not. Even the sky was mended, as if its gaping wounds had never been. Only a clear field of stars, crowned by its jewel, the moon remained.“Even somepony so utterly lost up their own plot as the sun nag, should have no problems following the instructions on that parchment.”

She sucked in a breath. This was exactly what they needed, to have a chance at least, to bring back her subjects where they belonged...

He pointed at Her and spoke, but a different, older sounding voice came out His lips. “Make it so, number one.”

Her face scrunched up in confusion. “I beg your pardon?”

He chuckled softly, his normal voice returned. “Sorry, sorry... Just a little joke for the readers, I have some reputation to live up to left, after all...”

Oh, if she only knew... Both how far I see, and how I just insulted her. But then again, that joke would have been crueler with Celestia's voice... If, less funny as well...

She stared at Him for a moment, before shrugging, clearly chalking it up to The Abomination's usual weirdness.

“Now...” He started, as He made himself comfortable on the ground again. “...I believe Celestia deserves to see that and its almost time for her to have a part of the story... Why don't you go and get that done? Chop-chop!”

She sighed at His antics as She put the parchment behind Her back... but as usual there was just enough wisdom in His words, that She dared not stop listening to Him...

No matter how hard She wished that She could.

“Thank you, for the gesture.”

He shrugged at Her forced politeness. “Just give her a chance to come back. That's all I ask in turn.”

The Mistress Of The Night raised an eyebrow. “A chance?”

He did not turn, but he did answer. “Have you forgotten? The curse involves a rebirth. She, and by the extension all the others, may wish nothing to do with this world...”

The words Or Me, hung in the air, but remained unsaid.

The Alicorn heard them anyway.

She steeled herself. “...You honestly think, they would chose a world of humans over Equestria?”

He turned His long neck and rolled His eyes at Her. They stayed in their sockets, but only barely. “Please. I picked one of the interesting ones, not one of the irradiated gravel pits or bloody tribal nightmares. One with both sweetness and light, as well as darkness and bitterness. All else is a matter of what they chose...”

He looked Her straight in the eyes. “...including what life and lands they chose to hold allegiance to. Remember that, if nothing else.”

She looked doubtfully at Him.

“Or do you intend to drag them all back, no matter their will or the cost? Human's may be defiant and care little for Harmony... but Loyalty? Oh, they have that alright, especially for kind and kin. If you do, they will never stop. Not until what they see as their kin as well, is returned to them... or you and Celly destroy them. They will simply use what knowledge they do have, to tear at the walls between world until they find the right one.”

She froze at His words. She had not seen it from that perspective... and it horrified her.

“Now of course...” He continued, a martini appearing in His talon. “...the ‘local’ batch are a mixed bunch. Some will cry for your blood, no matter how sweet and kind you appear... And the opposite, as well. I would strongly recommend the ‘We come in peace, take me to your leader!’ approach...”

He drank the olive and toothpick, before continuing.

“...that one might actually work.” He finished plainly, the drink and glass crunching between his teeth as he began to devour it.

The Alicorn thought it over. Yes, as much as the source of the wisdom troubled her, she could see it. They were looking for their ‘kind and kin...’ But would not any intelligent creature, with-even a shred of compassion, do the same for theirs?

And in such matter, who had first ‘dibs’ seldom get headed...

...And the Dragons still whisper tales, at what befalls those foolish enough to lay a single talon on any human, uninvited.

For they may be defiant and chaotic a species, but against others they move as one...

With singular and dread purpose.

And with neither mercy, nor respite.

The Mistress Of The Night, made a thoughtful sound.

But according to the tales, this held true to any they called friend, as well...

That possibility just might be a silver lining, to this near endless typhoon.

She nodded calmly to Herself. This was indeed a matter that would need the most delicate of touches. She could only hope She and Her sister, would live up to the challenge.

Her wayward subjects, no matter what they chose when They found them, deserved no less from Her or Her sister.

...But one matter remained, she thought, as she looked at the so helpful creature of chaos...

“I already told you my reason for helping. Heck, I told you my reason for this mess once before, right? If that isn't enough, go fly a kite.” He said, anger in his voice, but without any true venom.

As He turned, to once again stare at the cottage, like a dog looking longingly at the door... for a mistress that might never come, a thought snaked through Her mind.

What a subtle but dread power love is. I wish we still had Cadance here. She always knew how to raise our spirits...

The Creature glanced back at Her. “Do you really have time standing around feeling sorry for yourself or others? Get going already...”

The Alicorn hesitated, then gave The Creature a nod, before disappearing in a flash of cobalt blue.

The Creature sighed, before snapping his talon and willing some lettuce into existence for The Demon.

The Demon devoured the offering greedily, ignoring while The Abomination made himself comfortable once more, for he had long since accepted that only he and The Creature remained at this vigil, where once the entire forest had been...

But life moves on, no matter what one may will...

As the flash of light and rush of teleportation faded, I had to lock my knees and center myself, before continuing through the balcony door into my sisters room.

As practical Discord having chosen what remained of Ponyville as a mourning hall was...

Seeing the once proud town like that, a broken toy for a broken god...

I had to close my eyes, as memories old and sweet, as well as new and raw, flooded my mind...

Proud, honest Applejack... Always tending to her friends and trees...

Sweet Apple Acres, nothing but overgrown and abandoned ruin, so twisted by chaos, not even the EverFree would claim what little remained...

Fierce, but kind, Lady Rarity... Always with a smile, and offers of help to those in need...

Carousel Boutique, just a rotted marionette with broken strings, dancing and twitching in the sky... Not allowed to be unique in even that regard...

...Sweet Fluttershy. Both the center of this mess... and its greatest victim.

Gall rose in my mouth and I forced the image of Discord's shrine from my mind. To think, that the seemingly least rotted dwelling in Ponyville, what had once been a bastion of healing and sweetness... Now reduced to that.

My mind and heart darkened, and I contemplated not for the first time, to break my wow with Tia...

But a swift death would end the bastards suffering. He deserved to suffer, for all his mad plan had hurt. For all he had stolen.

Letting him live... was...

Good enough, for now.

Pinky, Pinky, Pinky... I still know not what to make of that mare and all her impossibilities, not even after all this time... but I still miss her antics.

Sugar-cube Corner... A black stain of soot and ashes, still there after so long... where untended ovens had finished what Pinkies fierce defiance as the Cake family fled had only begun... If she only knew how many lives she had saved from being shattered, that day.

...Oh, Trixie...

I fought that line of thought down. I have cried enough, for what might have been... She died well, at least.

...Twilight. My first friend, since my exile ended...

A part of the white marble crumbled to dust in my grip... but I barely noticed.

…and thanks to Discord's twisted insight, the one star denied me, the one I had hoped to claim as mine the most.

...But at least Spike's swift thinking, saved something of the mare's legacy. Even if it almost killed him.

I gazed down towards the courtyard, where a familiar tree stood. One with darkened windows, its sole occupant and guardian, asleep and...

I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat.

Dreaming of his mother and friends, safely returned.

In morbid curiosity, I expanded my awareness of the dreamlands, past mere vigilance against nightmares and other horrors.

...He was not alone in having that dream, even if details varied. I quickly dialed it back again.

I closed my eyes, willing myself not to cry.

Far, far too many had had that dream, these long decades.

So many of my subjects and far too few friends, lost in those horrible weeks...

I felt the light, but strangely comforting weight of the scroll, as it lay nestled in my shadow.

...But perhaps, just perhaps... as ironic it was for me to wish so, dawn was finally approaching.

I sighed, and passed my hoof over the rock my anger had marred, fixing it with a burst of magic. Giving my work a nod, my mind and heart cleared, I opened and walked through the doors...

Only to see my sister, already awake and with a troubled look on her face.

I averted my gaze from her too thin frame. Neither the volcano, Discord's betrayal, the stress of the crisis, nor her long recovery, had been kind to my sisters body.

We Alicorns may recover from most things, given time... But that does not mean, we look pretty while doing so.

Even after all these years, physically she was a shade of her former glory... But even such may be nurtured back from the brink.

But in her sunken face her eyes still sparkled with will and intelligence, even at an hour such as this. The sight made me smile, despite myself.

“What is it, sister?” I asked in a voice happy enough that it surprised even me, as I sat down on the bed with her. “You seem troubled... and frankly should be asleep.”

She shook her head, her mane a mundane pink. It had been near a worse battle then rounding up the ‘survivors’ and making things work once more, but I had managed to convince her that a swift true recovery, was ultimately of greater value than the appearance of one. Even politically.

“...I felt something. A... portend, if you will. But I'm not sure of what. It was strong, though.” She hesitatingly offered, her eyes unfocused with concentration.

That made my ears perk up. The foolish idea of astrology aside, Tia had always been the one of us most in tune with sensing the subtle ripples of what shall be, as they travel the aether.

Honestly... If I wanted my stars and night to be a overglorified noticeboard, I would move them like that.

Anyway... “Not even if it was of good or ill?”

She slowly gave me a shake of her head. “...I think it may have been a major event in another, but nearby, realm... Strange, that it echoed so strongly in ours, though...”

“...Oh, sweet harmony.” I whispered, as horrible realization dawned on me.

Tia tilted her head at me, making me very carefully not think of a olive almost falling off its toothpick. I simply must convince her, to eat more things with some actual fat in them. To make me follow this idiotic vegetarian trend to ward of rumors is one thing, but I shall not lose my sister to it. Not even if I have to force-feed her lard, myself...

I took the scroll from my shadow and behind my back, and offered it to Tia. My magic so shaky it almost fell to her, then floated.

She barely got a single paragraph in, before uttering a swear herself that would have unmade any notions of her as the pure one if any but I had heard it.

Anger rose in me, but I fought it down. “Even when he aids us, he still manages to rub in our noses what he has done...” I near growled the words, but managed to hold my composure.

Tia did not. For a moment flames rose from her, instantly reducing the covers and most of the bed to blackened ash... Then she winced and sagged, her strength drained.

I barely got the scroll away in time, even using a teleport spell.

The door to the chamber smashed open, and my sisters personal guard, rushed in. “My lady! Are you alright?”

Tia was still coughing, some of the obsidian from the magma she had almost drowned in, still giving her trouble. So I answered in her stead. “I just delivered some very mixed news. She is fine, but her temper flared.”

The guards gulped. No doubt, they had all heard stories of my usually calm sisters fury... And I could not blame them, for looking weary.

The times my sister had unleashed her full fury, may have been few and long ago, even for me... But most of my Nightmares, where lesser horrors. Such things do not easily fade from memory.

“I'm fine...” Tia croaked out. “...I just need a new bed and sheets. No harm was done.”

I delicately avoided the subject, that she almost cost us our best chance at returning our subjects... Thinking about the tiny and flammable scroll, once more tucked into my shadow.

I brushed some ash from myself. And that most messengers, would not have been so... Silent, at the moment.

Tia gave me a guilty look. Clearly having just had, more or less, the same thoughts I just had had.

The guards bowed, only a moments hesitation betraying their shock at my sisters rare outburst. “At once, your ladyships. I will send for your hoofmaidens i-”

“It can wait until morning. I have slept in far worse. Let them rest.”

The commander was just about to protests... but was interrupted by my sisters yelp, as I started levitating her. “Sister, for the last bucking time. You. Are. Not. Well. Do I have to chain you in my room and spoon feed you, to get you to realize this?”

Tia gave me a glare... before sighing in defeat.

I turned to the commander, whose eyes were near bulging out of his skull. “Escort us to the nearest unoccupied room. I care not which, as long as there's a bed for my overgrown foal of a sister...”

Tia rolled her eyes at me, before letting them close once more. She was gently snoring before even a taking another breath.

The commander nodded at me, obviously at a loss for words... But he did his duty and trotted off. I, my snoring sister and the other thoroughly disillusioned soldiers, following in the armored unicorns wake.

We traveled in silence... except for the rustle of my sisters wings. She was asleep again, so I don't think she noticed herself...

But she had spread her wings and had a big smile on her face.

I half amused smile came to me, even as my heart broke a bit. I needed no mastery of dreams, to tell what my sister dreamed of doing once more...

I noted how her hind-legs were twitching. A very good sign, after the foul blow that had crippled her. A year, or even less, and she should be able to walk without aid again, at least... Much would remain to do and heal, of course, but it would no doubt raise both her and others spirits, to have her walking the halls once more.

...Would such be the case, had I been the crippled one?

I shook my head and forced away the bitter thought. Now was not the time.

...Now is the time to show them all... By being better th-

I had to stop and center myself. Even harmony incarnate, may only subdue so much bitterness.

Luckily, we had made good time and my need for stillness was not noticed, as the commander stopped himself and our little group came to a halt...

...Right in-front of Twilight's old tower.

The place, an imposing and beautiful spire. A white marble spine tastefully covered with gilding, reaching towards the heavens.

Even after so long without its mistress, the place gleamed in the night.

“...Your joking. There is no other place?”

A quiet dread filled me, as the commander shook his head. “We are still sheltering to many refugees. From Ponyville, especially. The only reason Princess Twilight's tower is not taken, is by...” He nodded towards my sister. “...royal decree.”

I looked at my sister, floating peacefully in the glow of my magic... There was no way she would like this. I could almost hear her counter. “She'll be back. She always comes back...”

...Perhaps, but as what?

I sighed, knowing this would lead to drama I simply had no energy for...

But a bed is a bed.

No matter how long it has been empty.

“...Buck it.”

The commander nearly dropped from shock, right there... but I was too tired to find more than slight amusement in it.

“She torched her bed, if she wants to throw a hissy-fit over how I solve the problem... Then so be it. Inform the maids and cooks tomorrow...” I let my words linger, as to allow no misunderstandings. This particular bit of horse-apples needed not be kicked around. Especially not downhill like that. “...that my sister and I, had to move rooms temporarily. If anypony asks, tell them her room needed airing...”

...From ash and smoke, but still... technically true.

He saluted. “Anything else, your highness?”

“Send word tomorrow to Princess Rainbow Dash, Emperor Shining Armor, Beta Rover, Sir Spike, Archmage Scootaloo, Archmage Sweetie Belle and Archmage Apple Bloom. I need them gathered here, as soon as possible.”

The commander hesitated. “...Ma'am, should we tell Prince Blueblood, as well?”

I thought it over... And realized old habits die hard. The pompous twit I sadly still saw him as when I forgot to do otherwise, was no more.

This crisis had given him a rude wake-up call.

I sighed. But then, so it had to us all.

I nodded at the stallion. “Excellent reminder. He slipped my mind...”

I gritted my teeth.

“...And send word to General Umbra.”

The commander froze, and hesitated.

“As much as I don’t care for the... gentlecolt...” I had to spit, to get the taste of saying that word about him, but sadly politeness dictated I did. “... his presence is needed.”

“Luna... You wound me.” A dark, oily and infuriatingly calm, voice came drifting from the shades surrounding us. Ugh. Umbra and his bucking entries...

A changeling, pitch black and utterly unashamedly in his natural shape, a cruel mockery of the once proud flutters, stepped from the shades near one of the potted, decorative trees near the stairs to the tower...

He was not wearing the armor of his people, but the way he walked made it clear he was a warrior, even if I had not already known.

The wound in the swirling shadow, sealing behind him as quickly as it had appeared.

The guards tensed, as he came closer.

“At ease, gentlecolts. If I wanted you, or your charges dead, you would be.”

Strangely, this statement did nothing to ease the tension...

My eyes narrowed at the vermin.

He gave me a respectful nod, making his short, white ‘mane’ bob a bit...

He was tall and thin, nearly half his queen's height, with only a few of the strange holes that riddle a changeling's body... and he looked old. It near radiated from his wizened body, as if a stiff breeze might break his wings, or a light tap his crooked horn...

It struck me, that I didn't even know if this was his true appearance, or not.

I frankly did not care about his age, but I didn't buy the weakness he projected for a second. “Do not dare threaten anypony in my presence.”

The bastard gave of a chuckling laugh without a trace of joy in it, as his blue haws retracted to show my his yellow-green eyes. “Oh?And is that anyway to treat an ally? I can smell your anger, you know...”

It pained me, but I took a deep breath and found my center. As usual, he was a pain, a tug, a utter irritant...

...and right.

I let out a slow, frustrated breath.

But I need not like it.

The merriment faded from his eyes, and his mouth turned to a grim line. “Must we dance this dance again, Luna? It was tiresome the day we met.Nineteen,fifty-eight versus two, and one million four-hundred eleven thousand five hundred and six.”

I winced, and averted my eyes.

“...Forgive me, your highness...” The commander asked hesitatingly. “What is he talking about?”

I looked towards Umbra, but he only made a small gesture of invitation to me. Bastard.

“...Umbra buried nineteen, personally, from the starvation before their invasion...”

The guards paled, but Umbra just nodded. His eyes distant, and lost in thought.

“...that cost them 58 soldiers, compared to our two...”

Umbra shook his head, as the guards looked even more disturbed. “...Being smashed against buildings at a speed most pegasi can not fly... Such mercy.” He spat the last word.

I sighed, as the old dance truly was whirling anew. “...You could have negotiated with us.”

He somehow looked even older. “Please, your highness. Negotiate with the dreaded emotion eating changelings? Rumor was all it took, for you and your sister, to place this place under a shield.”

I felt a old familiar headache returning. “...Because they, and other sources, claimed a invasion was coming...”

He tilted his head, a strange look on his face. Strange... This part is new. “...What?”

He let out a long, sad sigh, filled with bitterness and longing. “My sweet little Chrissy wanted to try that.”

My blood ran cold. “Explain.”

The ancient looking changeling shrugged, producing a soft buzz with his wings. “I claimed it would be a foolish thing. That you would never listed, that our entire people are nothing but vermin and monsters, to you ponies. Not only that, but it would cost us both surprise and the tactical advantage of our shape-shifting...”

“...And she listened to you then?” I said, a note of anger clawing through my control.

The ancient general just... looked at me, for several moments to long.

“Not to start, she had heard about your Princess of Love and was so certain a deal could be struck... then she saw the shield.”

He looked wistfully into the distance, his eyes unfocused.

“...When she noticed that... that is was meant specificallyto keep our kind out.... ...Then she listened to me.”

I looked at him. He didn't look like a mighty wizard and general anymore.

More like a father or grandfather in mourning.

...My sister and I, had thought it so clear and easy.

Love eating monsters are coming.

Raise the defenses.

Wait for them to pass.

End story.

But it hadn't been.

I centered myself once more. No what if's, Luna. You know what madness lies that way. Focus on the now.

A bit of pity and understanding, rose in my chest. “...Shall we continue this inside?”

He froze slightly at, to my shame even for me, unexpected olive-branch... but he found himself quickly.

...And gave me a court bow. Oh, such manners. Far too rare, these days...

The commander started to protest, but I gave him my best glare. He wilted under it.

A simply adorable little sneeze reminded me that I was still levitating my sister like a sack of potatoes... in the rather crisp spring night. Oops.

I turned to General Umbra. “Would you be so kind as to go on ahead? I need to.. “ I simply could not stop a snort. “...tuck my sister in for the night.”

He tilted his head at me, ignoring the guards without enough decorum to fume without it being obvious. Seriously, even when dealing with empaths there is such a thing as good manners...

Doubly as important even, if you think about it.

“...Where, exactly?” Umbra asked carefully.

I almost face-hoofed... making the insufferable cot snicker. Bucking empaths... I fought back my annoyance. “Forgive my slip, this had been a long day.”

For a moment his uncovered eyes darted between me... and my sister, snoring in my magic. “Quite understandable... especially if the implications of that... guest-list, for a lack of better words, is as dire as they seem.”

I shook my head. “Good tidings... but ones that will require much work.”

The changeling general looked incredulous at me. “...And requiring all the major powers, that even pay lip-service to Equestria?”

I nodded.

His eyes widened.

Near burning with hope.

“Wait for me at my chambers...” I said, putting some extra emphasis on the part that followed. “I shan't be long. We may talk there.”

An old cot he may be... but he clearly knew politics. He bowed politely once more, before simply disappearing, as the shadows washed over him.

Hmm... Why use that way of teleportation? It's flashy, sure... Perhaps he simply have a affinity fo-

“Your highness...” The commander interrupted my thoughts by whispering. “...do you really intend to meet with him, at this hour?”

My eyes grew cold, but the young pony did not flinch this time. “Is there are reason I should not have a polite conversation with one of Equestria's strongest allies?”

The stallion shivered at my words... but made no reply. Him sagging in defeat said more, anyway.

I took some small amount of pity on him. It was clear that the world had turned upside down for this soldier... “I know that even after all these years... things are hardly the same.”

His head jerked up, a hard look in his eyes.

“But if we turn on allies that have done nothing but aid us for two and a half decades... How would that make things better?”

He didn't look happy at my words... but he seemed mollified, and gave me a sharp nod.

I nodded to him. “Let me just find that bed for my sister and then you can get back to your vigil.”

He nodded back, relieved that the politics were out of his mane... for now. I chuckled internally. Oh boy, did he get the wrong posting for that...

He lifted his head at me. “One last question, if I may.”

I motioned for him to ask.

“The last number...?”

A shiver snaked down my spine. “...Their losses when they tried to destroy Discord.”

His eyes, and the ones of a few other guards bulged, but he made no comment. Simply choosing to take positions instead.

I took advantage to quickly, and finally, get inside...

I carefully ignored everything, quickly going for the bed.

Luckily... for them, the maids had done their jobs. The tower was aired, cleaned and the beds in the place even had... clean sheets.

I had to pause mid motion at that.

Clean sheets... for twenty-five years.

As inspiring it was that my sister still held such hope... it was somewhat sad, as well.

Another thought, made me freeze again, just after having removed the blanket.

...My bucking sheets had been crisper than a hey-fry after...

I quickly shook my head, dislodging that thought. She had forewarning thanks to prophecy then, completely different...

A certain bastards little rhyme, echoed through my head.

...Note to self, bribe one of the older maids and ask, later.

I quickly finished my task after that. My sister had not even stirred during any of it.

I just had to look at her a little while. Perhaps she had gotten some hope from Discord's ‘gift’ after all. She just looked so... content.

I turned, intending to let her rest...

And then the place near floored me with nostalgia, as I stopped focusing on my sister.

Books, books, book-shelves, books, strange machinery, books, more books, books...

And then... more books.

The place was so, so... Twilight, it hurt.

I smiled. Bittersweetly, but still a smile.

As I ran a hoof along one of the near overflowing shelves... I couldn't help but think... Would she be expecting this? The room, or that it had been kept so flawlessly?

...Would she remember any of this?

I thought of the scroll... Its contents had implied a reawakening...

But after twenty-five years, a rebirth and that the curse itself was made with chaos magic?

I barely dared think the words, for fear of them coming true...

But even if the memories returned...

Would it do more, than frighten and confuse the... the po-

I took a breath, the smell of books and inc, calming me near instantly.

...The person they had become.

I let out my breath. There, I said it...

Now what?

The image of a certain moth-eaten would be scarecrow, flashed through my mind.

...Oh right, enough´reminiscing and worrying. I have a guest to entertain.

I quickly trotted out the door, so that the guard would see me leave. Then I gathered my magic and with a simple spell, teleported to my chambers.

I breathed a slight sigh of relief, as the flash of magic faded. A desk, some cushions, a bed... A simple room.

But it was mine and mine alone.

...And he was already inside, pacing back and forth.

I barely stopped myself from snarling. I had technically invited him in... I had simply expected him to wait outside until I or my guards could usher him in.

Umbra was as stoic as always, but he tilted his head at me and I felt him gather a bit of power. Not enough for a attack that would actually wound me, but certainly enough to flee.

I carefully fought the irritation down, now was not the time for it. “Forgive me, I expected you to have waited outside. May I ask how you bypassed my wards?”

He tilted his head at me again, but the other way. “Oh, I meant no offense, nor do I mean any... but this room has wards?”

I sucked in a breath through my mouth and slowly let it out through my nose. To calm myself.

He bowed his head slightly. “Judging from your... irritation I shall interpreter it as a yes... I would offer my own or my men's services, but I believe you would refuse such a offer. May I recommend a shadow mage you trust strengthen the wards in that case? I honestly just stepped through the shadows, I meant no insult to you, or your power.”

...My. Another olive-branch. Such a strange day it has been.

And I suspected the flaw. The room was warded amongstmany things, against both teleportation, my own signaturewithstanding, and shadow magic... But both? It seems prudent not to anger or insult the ally that had found such a flaw...

And that was not even counting the troubling concept that the general’s magic might be just different enough for my wards to not do anything.

I lowered my own head slightly. “Thank you, for your honesty. I should have been more precise, but for the record I consider this room a sanctuary of mine. In the future, please wait for me, before entering... I hope you understand?”

To my surprise, he froze slightly for a moment, before nodding slowly. “It was... to long since I had such a place myself. Forgive me, I thought this merely a place where you filed papers and entertained guests. I will endeavor to be more respectful to it in the future.”

“Your lodging is not to your liking? If so...”

He quickly shook his head. “It is more than fine... but it is a loaned thing. I simply cant feel as calm in such a place, as one of my own design and making.”

I gave him a slow nod. I could understand and respect that. Hospitality is a fine thing to experience and almost as rewarding to grant... but hardly the same as a home.

And I have had my own share of bastions over the years. It is never a good or easy thing, to see them fall.

Still... “May I offer any refreshments, before we begin?”

Umbra hesitated for a moment, before nodding. “I would not mind some tea... as long as it is no trouble, of course.”

I nodded, before levitating and ringing the enchanted bell marked with a crescent moon and a tea kettle, before replacing it on my desk with the others of the set. At the moment a similar bell would be ringing in the kitchen. At this time of night, only a skeleton staff would be there... but if they failed to make a cattle of tea because of that, then me and Tia would need to do some serious culling of the weak and unskilled...

I motioned towards the cushions. “I take it you already have guessed the geist if what I intend to tell... But let us speak of something else until our tea arrive.”

Umbra gave of a low chuckle, as he used his wings to buzz over to his seat. “And the help has departed, you mean?”

“Exactly. This is too delicate to reach the rumor mill,” I said, as I took my own spot.

The general had a strange expression on his face, as he felt the cushion underneath him. The soft and warm pillow beneath me was a treat, sure...

“Phoenix feathers,” I explained, having gotten that question before.

For a moment Umbra's jaw slacked slightly, as if it had almost fallen... then he had his normal blank expression once more. “Truly? Is that not quite the extravagance, even for a Princess?”

I gave out a low chuckle. “I believe you have forgotten my sisters pet. Philomena molts before being reborn... Why waste such a rare resource by throwing it in the dustbin?”

He tilted his head once more. “But... Pillows?”

I waved a hoof for emphasis. “We know they are useful and potent... But you can only go so many centuries before you've exhausted most of them. We have barrels of the stuff.”

Carefully stashed in the royal vault, in steel barrels chained to the floor and locked to all but me and Tia... but details.

The general sat still for a moment, expression unreadable. He seemed to be shifting his weight oddly, though. “...Huh, how about that.”

Oh, an opportunity... “We hardly hoard them, they simply have a tendency to pile up. If you or yours have use of them we would be happy to discuss a trade...”

He thought in silence for a minute, before shaking his head. “None comes to mind, but I will speak with my advisers on the matter. Perhaps they have ideas that escape me at the moment... Would you care to give a preliminary price?”

Hmm... playing hard to get, perhaps? “Many of our researchers have expressed an interest in the solidified emotions...”

He suddenly looked extremelyserious, almost grimly so. “Out of the question. And since a changeling is needed to shape or use them, they would be nothing but curiosities to you. To us, they are among other things food. I will not trade that for trinkets that may be useful.”

“No matter the exchange rate? Say, one feather for two ingots?”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “I will take it that that offer was out of ignorance, not insult. Ten for one, would be a bad deal...”

Bugger, but how about...? “Expertise, then? One volunteer to demonstrate how to make and help handle such material, for one feather per month, as long as they are needed?”

Umbra stroked his chin in thought. “...As much love as the volunteer can eat, plus normal food and lodging?”

I nodded, mouth slightly dry. That the researchers was interested, was like saying my moon was big... Twenty-five years of waiting and being needed on more pressing projects had done little to dull that. “And a salary, of course...”

He hummed lowly, letting his hoof drop. I tried very hard, not to be amused by the whistling sound it did while doing so. Judging from the raised eyebrow I got, I failed. Still, he just pressed on. “Any guess on the number of volunteers needed?”

I thought, As many as you may spare! Now! But I said...

“Thirty? To begin with?”

Umbra hummed again, deep in thought. “One whole feather, each? Per month?”

“I will take for granted you know that feathers vary in size, but Yes,” I said, rustling my own wings for emphasis. I felt a little offended, but I could see why he would ask that, as much as it pained me. “I could even arrange for the first payment to be only in primaries or tail-feathers, as a gesture of good faith.”

A dry smile flickered across his face, but was gone as soon as it had appeared. “And the ones after that?”

“Would you prefer a price in grams? That could also be arranged.”

He studied me for a long while... before finally shaking his head. “That will not be necessary... but I had to ask. I hope you see my reasons?”

I simply nodded. I would never fault a stallion for simply for-filling his obligations. He have his people, I have mine. Simple as that.

Just then, a low knock came from my door. “Princess Luna, your tea has arrived.”

...Which translated from ‘Guard’ to Equestrian as “Did you send for it, or should we start blasting?” “Send her in.” No reason to traumatize the help...

The door opened, and a young unicorn mare, little more than a filly, entered. Black fur and blood red mane... The poor dear, that combination must have been Tartarus to grow up with. She flinched slightly at the sight of Umbra and the tray floating in her magic wobbled once, before stabilizing...

She found herself quickly though and bowed. “Forgive me, your Highness. I was uninformed that you had a guest. I shall fe-”

“No need,” I said, levitating an old battered metal mug from my desk. “I have a extra here. You may leave.”

The mare tensed, as I snickered internally. Old ‘rusty’ was so far from a ‘proper’ mug for a princess as you could get without using the hollowed out skulls of your enemies.

...Well, the modern definition of a princess, anyway.

The ugly powter thing was dented, bent, stained... and the staff had tried to get rid of it since my return.

A silly game, perhaps. But it amused me. Not to mention, this mug actually held enough liquid to drench a flea...

If I ever find where the concept of thimble sized cups being ‘proper’ comes from, then I'm raising the creator as shambling mockery of his or her former form... just so I can punch their head off.

Not that I'm irritated, or anything...

Still, the mare must have know now was not the time, because she simply levitated the tray over, bowed once and then left. Aw...

“...Seriously?” Umbra asked, eyebrow raised. “I've felt ponies react with glee or disgust to many things... but why that mug?”

I quickly explained the little game the help and I had going. At the end of the admittedly short tale, he was just shaking his head. “Suck silly nonsense.”

I chuckled softly. “I completely agree... but it makes them feel important and makes me seem... Well, to be blunt, less abnormal. A win-win... and I find it mildly amusing.”

“So,” He said. Deciding to drop the subject. The earthenware teapot lifted in a pale green nimbus, as Umbra purred a cup each for us. “do I dare hope you have found whatever pit of Tartarus Discord sent everybody to?”

I tensed slightly, before just shrugging. “May I ask how you came to that conclusion?”

I levitated one of the cups over, grabbing some sugar and a pastry in the same sweep. Umbra followed my example, as I thought over his reply.

He added a slice of lemon and some milk to his cup, before setting it aside to cool a little. Hmm, interesting. I thought he would be more of a sugar or honey stallion...

“Actually, I used to be... But the bug jokes and stereotypes got a bit too much, so I started experimenting a bit...”

I glared a bit, but he just chuckled at me. “And I'm not reading your mind. But sensing emotions and experience is a close second.”

I carefully relaxed, but shot him a inquiring look. “I infer that you are versed in the art? Since you simply said you are not employing it at the moment?”

Suddenly, a thought not mine, echoed through my head. 'My, as wise and clever as the stories say... I'm flattered.'

'My,' He flinched slightly at the force of my thought in comparison, but simply donned a cryptic little smile, then show pain or outrage. 'a rare skill mind-speak... Or does that differ among changelings?'

He snorted slightly. 'I still can not grasp how few ponies learn the skill. Among us, it is one the same level as learning to read. It is not hard.'

'I agree, but most of my subjects value the privacy of their thoughts too much... backwards as that may be.'

He nodded sagely. 'Protecting yourself and knowing how to attack is tightly interwoven. Sad, but true...'

'Indeed,' I answered courtly, while adding some honey to my own cup and tasting it. 'but why did you recommend we wait, instead of simply informing me that you know this way to speak?'

He levitated his own cup to his lips, eyes closed and face content. Serene even.

To find such peace in a cup of tea... I wonder, just what life has this stallion lived?

He lowered his cup, dabbing at his lips with a napkin. “Well, for one I thought entering the mind of a Alicorn without even a implied invitation might be just a tad foolish...”

I grinned. He had that right.

He hesitated for but a moment, before pressing on. “...and I like speaking. I get to few chances for it among my own kind since most of them prefer mind-speak...”

Now there was a understatement and a half. A lot of patrols used to report that they found the quiet in the changeling dominated districts disconcerting...

Until I ordered them to get training so that they could actually listen for trouble, and then the complaint went to being about ‘noise’ levels, instead...

Can't win them all...

His head drifted slightly to the side. I couldn't see his eyes again, but it was clear he was staring into space. “...Perhaps I should not be so sentimental, but... I am also, reminded of...”

He shook his head, willing it clear. “Anyway, have you found anything?”

“...Did you lose somepony important to you?” I asked softly, trying not to remember my sisters blackened form as we dragged her from the volcano.

The moment was subtle, but he focused on me. “...Have we not all?”

A shudder swept me. I chased it away with a mouthful of hot, sweet tea. It worked somewhat and I continued to sip, as I hoofed over the parchment.

He gingerly took it.

And for the first time, I saw his eyes up close, as he opened his third eyelids. Old, wise... very tired.

And as they shone in triumph and hope... and was familiar. “...You spoke of “your little Chrissy...” He tensed at my word, eyes hard and his jaw set. “Just what wa-”

“She is m-,” He near snarled at me, before fighting the words down. Forcing himself calm. His glare intensified though. I calmly sipped my tea in response.

“...One condition. And only because you have already guessed and as a gesture of good faith.” He simply stated, an iron core to his words that left no room for negotiation.

“Name it then.”

“This does not leave this room. Not even for your sisters ears.”

I raised a eyebrow at him. “My sister and I have few secrets to each other...”

That made him chuckle softly. “So I've both heard and inferred...”

I sighed. “You know the burden of obligations. May I at least have permission to tell her?”

He stared at my unblinkingly for nearly a minute... before sighing in turn and sagging slightly. “Fine, it is a open secret, anyway...”

“I take it you are a blood relative of Queen Chrysalis? That was in part why the changeling's rallied behind you, so quickly?”

He shook his head slowly, before continuing. “Her military adviser, eldest general, battle-mage... And yes, her uncle.”

He smiled sadly, head resting on one hoof. “The dread Queen Chrysalis, scourge of Equestria and bane of love itself...

I tensed, as a dark part of me noted that not long ago, I had held similar titles.

”I held her when she was but a babe. She had her father's eyes, even then.” He held his front-hooves in-front of him, as if she still rested there. “...They were so innocent back then.”

I washed down the lump in my throat. Such an easy thing to forget, that few consider themselves wicked...

“I thought her, after her father died. To walk, to read, to fly, to change... Magic, both fair and foul, so that she would live long enough to no longer need the later...”

His smile never faltered in his remembrance, it simply grew sadder as he spoke.

“We were all so proud, the they she ascended. No changeling had done that in generations...”

“...May I ask, how that is done among Changelings?” I carefully asked.

He just chuckled at me. “Care to trade?”

His eyes widened slightly, as I seriously considered it...

But sadly, I had to shake my head. “That is not only my secret to share. Forgive me, but I can not in good conscience accept.”

A trickle of amusement danced through me, as the old cot started breathing again. “...Fair enough.”

I nibbled on my pasty, as I waited for him to continue. He took the respite as a chance to drain his own cup.

But a thought came to me, as I swallowed the last crumbs. “Until today, I had no idea you even had a sensitive side... Why show me?”

He hesitated, before speaking slowly and sounding very tired. “...Twenty-five years is a long time to wear a mask, even for a changeling. It slipped, nothing more.”

“Mask?”

He looked me straight in the eye. “You have spit in the face of fate to shape thing to your will, even if it cost you. I respect that.”

I shuddered, as memories of my battle and exile flooded through me. Of the sense of betrayal and the endless wait among seas of dust. Even filtered through my corruption and haze of memory as they where, they were unpleasant.

Umbra's shoulders sagged, and he let out a sigh fitting for a stallion twice his age. “My people, after our defeat... had need of a strong hoof, a iron one. What was left of us would have fallen to infighting, had I not... And your ponies would have neither believed nor respected a peace-bringer.”

I wanted to protest, but even in my own head the words sounded hollow. The general smirked slightly, at my frown and discomfort, before continuing. “But a old son of a nag, bowing only from necessity and not the slightest bit more? That rings true. It is a story both our people would believe.”

My mind flashed back two and half decade. The face in front of me, but in full armor. What was still a army even after being shattered, at his call and literal back. “We have need of each other. The bastard have taken enough from us both and I propose a alliance. Agree or I follow my Queens example but against you. We will not die starving.”

The cheer at his words had been deafening. Only outdone when I had agreed to negotiate terms.

And now I understood them, a bit better. “What would you have done, had I refused to negotiate all those years ago?”

He laughed, but it was dry and with not even a smidgen of humor in it. “Died on your horn, probably. Then as the one having bested the last of the current line in fair combat...”

I slowly took a sip, washing the dryness from my mouth. “...Would they have accepted me?”

Umbra just shrugged, as he nibbled on his own pasty. “Probably, but ‘What if?’ is a question that one should not ask often, if one values their sanity. Let's say I believed you would show mercy if my primary plan failed and leave it at that.”

At that moment I honestly did not know if I should smack him so hard he left a black imprint on my walls... or applaud.

It was not many times in my life I'd been had... for decades to pass before me noticing, doubly so.

I had thought this stallion dangerous... but not in quite that manner.

And to my twisted delight, he looked uncomfortable for the first time for as long as I had known him, as my intrigue of him soared.

Tia had been strongly against the alliance. Even now, she had doubts it would survive past these troubled times...

And po- people, knew this. It was seen as my mess...

Or potential pride.

A piece on the board without my sisters hoof on it... Tempting. Very tempting.

Sister may mean well, but her manipulations get tiring.

But a matter for the future, I believe... “Perhaps we should get to the business at hoof? It is late, after all...”

Umbra blinked, before swiftly floating over the parchment that was still floating, forgotten in the moment. “Indeed. What did you do to get this from him?”

I made a grimace of disgust. “Asked politely.”

Umbra did his jaw almost dropping thing again. “...You are serious?”

I let out a weary sigh, as I poured more tea for us. “He is... broken, plain and simple. When Fluttershy refused his offer...”

Umbra shook his head, as he accepted the cup and seasoned it once more. “So much pain and suffering... And it it could have all been avoided, had he but asked before setting his thrice damned plan in motion...”

“At this point...” A shudder swept me. Those empty eyes... “I honestly think only the hope of her forgiveness keeps him going. A fate most cruel...”

“Be that as it may...” Umbra said carefully, his tone all but screaming that he did not find it cruel enough. “...do you have a plan for that information?”

I nodded, adding sugar once more to my cup in the process. “Get everyp- body together, inform them, see what happens and if they have any ideas for how to continue.”

Umbras cup paused halfway to his lips.

I let out a merry laugh at his perplexed expression. “I received this only hours ago. Even Alicorns have limits.”

He blinked, the cup finishing its journey. He took another sip, before setting it down once more. “Fair enough...” He tilted his head, thinking. “...Slightest chance the rumors of Starswirl are true?”

“...What rumors?”

“That he ascended to become the Alicorn of time... But nobody sees him around because he spends most of it bucking those that would case paradoxes in the face.”

I smiled, as I sadly had to shake my head. “If my sister knows what happened to him in the end, she has not told me. Sorry, no four-dimensional plotkicking at the summit tomorrow...”

For a moment, his ears fell in disappointment... then he was his normal self again. “A pity. I've always wanted to meet him...”

“If he ever pops up again, I'll be sure to tell him he has a fan that wants his autograph...”

For just a moment Umbra's mask fell, and the squee from his grin echoed through the room. I just had to laugh, as the normally so stoic general blushed like a filly caught on her coltfriends bracers.

But my merriment was short lived, as a burst of magic and light flooded the room, coming from behind me. I tensed slightly, before seeing the colors of the magic.

Rainbow is not common shade, after all...

I was impressed by Umbra's reaction and reaction time though. In an instant, green fire that touched nothing but him swept over his form. But in a thin line, instead of the usual blaze. One it passed, he was not transformed, but rather had recolored himself to match the surroundings. Even when looking straight at him, I could barely see a outline in the air...

He had even adjusted the ‘image’ to show no indentation on the pillow. Only a few creases from besides his rump could be seen. “Most impressive...” I murmured. I saw the smirk, but the distortion from it lasted only a moment.

“Wha? Come on, Luna.” Princess Rainbow Dash's voice rang out, sounding a bit confused and irritated. “I've teleported tons of time by now. What's so impressive about that?”

Well, considering you do it from New Cloudsdale, it is still an achievement... Just not for a alicorn.

I swept my hoof towards Umbra, feeling a little mischievous. “I was referring to my other guest. Have you met?”

I snickered internally, as Rainbow harrumphed, but to her credit she trotted over and took a long look at the seemingly empty pillow. I must admit, the sight of pale, white teeth just appearing in a distortion was a little disconcerting... but Rainbow just blinked and chuckled. “How you doing, you wannabe ghost? Still hanging in there?”

I blinked, as Umbra chuckled and raised his cup. Not a drop disturbed his ‘cloak’ as he drank from the tiny cup. “You know each-other?”

Rainbow snorted, as she crashed down on the floor with her usual grace and dignity. “Well, duh.” She turned to Umbra. “Soooo... Does that mean you've finally dropped that tiresome act for at least one other pony?”

“My mask slipped. Luna is hardly a fool, so I informed her why as to not keep her guessing.” Umbra informed, finally dropping his cloak.

I gave Rainbow a look... but she was just smiling at me. “Come on. Alicorn of Loyalty...”

“...and awesome and cool. Never, ever forget the awesome.” Umbra said in a perfect imitation of Rainbow's voice. Rainbow stuck her tongue out at him, resulting in a... giggle from the general, now in his own voice.

My empty cup dropped with a clunk. You think you know somepony...

“Well, anyway...” Rainbow continued. “Loyalty.I could kinda tell, you know? The that he was doing it for his people, thing?”

I genuine smile was on Umbra's lips. He looked decades younger with it on. “It was most refreshing to meet a pony with some empathic skill... however limited.”

Rainbow nodded, scratching at something on her chest. “You should have seen the look on his face... but anyway, as fun as this is...” She stuck her chest out, revealing what she had been scratching at. “...I came about this.”

I swore under my breath and vaguely heard Umbra make a interested sound, as I saw what was gleaming in the light in her chest.

A red lightning bolt, made from what many would mistake for the purest of rubies.

“Made me scream like a filly having her cherry popped with a spiked baseball-bat when it appeared, just a few hours ago. Stung like the blazes. You know why it did it?”

The Element Of Loyalty.

And the flesh around it was still red and swollen. “...Are you in any pain?”

Both I and Umbra winced as she smacked it with a hoof. “Nope! Feels like it should be there even... but I thought it would be more than a bit stupid to just turn around and fall asleep. No idea then, huh?”

I swore again, also cursing that I had had such a day to require such language. I rose, the rest of the tea forgotten. I quickly snatched the scroll and stuffed it into the safety of my shadow. “Come, we need to check on the others.”

I almost felt the pang of pain from Rainbow's heart, as I said the words. Umbra in turn bit back a wince.

But Rainbow's face just hardened, and her rainbow colored aura just formed and slammed the doors open. Two surprised yelps rang out, as my guards jumped from the sudden noise. She marched out the room without another word.

I turned to Umbra. “Care to aid us? We might need magical assistance.”

He shrugged, making his insect-like wings buzz slightly from the gesture... but he stood in the same movement. “No idea what aid I can grant two alicorns, but sure. Sounds more interesting than dying in bed, anyway...” His words were grim, but he was smiling as he said them.

I gave a nod, before cantering after Rainbow. My guards and Umbra followed, using their wings rather than keep up on hoof with my longer legs. I soon reached and drew up alongside Rainbow.

Then I heard the grinding of teeth. “Calm and slow, Dash. Rushing in will do no good...”

She slowed to a trot, but didn't stop. “I just need to know, OK?”

I gave her a smile, but I am unsure if she noticed. She was that focused. I frowned, but just kept up. We were heading the right was, anyway...

The vaults.

One of the safest places in the castle, protected with magic both of mine and my sisters making... A constant guard presence. Metal walls and doors, so thick and strong they had taken some of the greatest earth-pony rock-farmers that had ever-lived decades to grow and shape...

And since this meant that it was a known place, where we kept the things too useful to hide away, but too dangerous or valuable to be left in the open.

For all else... It is a grim truth, but as the gryphons say: “Three may keep a secret, if two talons have drawn heart-blood...”

We had made this known with carefully leaked rumors, as well.

And then Celestia had leaked even more rumors, that that was only a smoke-screen...

And then that even that was just rumor.

I sometimes wondered just how far my sister's skills and manipulations extended, because my head had started swimming at the level of they-know-we-know-they-know-we-know-they-know-but-they-don't-even-suspect-we-planted-the-information-in-the-first-place!

...And, to my shame, how far her tendrils most did not even suspect, reached.

But would I know, unless she wanted me? That she truly trusted me?

Or was that what I was supposed to think?

...More than one sleepless day had been lost to me, in such doubts. But now was not the time.

The guards on duty were already glaring at us as we drew near. “Freeze!”

Umbra raised an eyebrow and Rainbow fumed, but both stopped. I simply stood still, waiting for the next step.

The chief-guard on duty, a unicorn, trotted forward. His horn glowing. Rainbow tensed, but I put a hoof on her shoulder. The unicorns magic flowed over us, and he gave a nod at the result of his scan.

Only then, did he and the others bow. I made a gesture for them to rise. “To what do we owe the late visit from you and Princess Rainbow, your Highness?”

Umbra gave off a polite cough. The guard blinked, and added. “Oh sorry, General Umbra. A pleasant night to you to, of course. Forgive me, I was simply distracted, I meant no disrespect.”

Umbra smiled one of his rare public smiles, from what I had gathered. “My, my... such politeness... A pleasant eve to you and your men, as well.” He murmured, his head slightly tilted in respect.

The guard bowed his head in kind, before turning to me. Awaiting my orders. “We need to excess the Vaults.”

He simply turned and bellowed: “You heard her Highness! Get to it!”

Two guards took keys, enchanted and glowing faintly with a light that pulsed in tandem with their hearts. That enchantment would destroy the key if their hearts ceased beating, from within their armor. They took position on both massive double doors... and with clicks so soft I barely heard them, the gates started swinging open.

The corridor was almost instantly bathed in blinding yellow light, from the massive shield covering the room. Like a bubble, blown in a bottle.

I lowered my head, giving it the sequence of magical frequency only I and my sister know. The light dimmed, but did not fade.

Rainbow gave off a low whistle. “Impressive. How come you two didn't keep the elements here all those years ago?”

“Because if my sister and I would fall, it would be many millennia before this shield fell. My sister and I made it with the Elements, many years ago...”

“...And that would be unwise in combination with the only things that might save the day, in that case...” Umbra murmured, a impressed note in his voice. Rainbow hummed in a similar fashion.

“Exactly.” I stated, not adding that the Elements was little more than fancy jewelry, without their chosen wielders...

Wielders absent, but not dead. And the Elements somehow knew this.

I gave glances to both Umbra and Rainbow. Judging from their solemn faces, they needed no reminder of this. My glance shifted, to the jewel thrumming with magic embedded in her flesh.

And apparently, they had a plan...

As hopeless a thing it might have been to expect, it was strange and a bit... unwelcome, that the shield had done nothing to stop the Elements.

I was not used to be humbled, even if it was to be expected from magic made manifest.

I turned to the guards, both mine and the others. “Wait here until we have inspected the Elements. Retreat immediately if anything happens. Any questions?”

A roaring “Sir! No, Sir!” answered me. I gave a nod, then strode forward.

It was granted, a slim hope, if anything was wrong... but it had to be said, just in case.

I ignored the knick-knacks and mementos of mine and Tia's long life. The barrels of feathers, both Philomena's, my own, Tia's...

And every other alicorn and the odd champion lost before such could be granted, that had fallen in Equestria's service.

They disappeared into the gloom, turning into rows of shades, as they grew nearer the edge of the shield.

Mine and Tia's cutie-mark marked something of a small majority... in number of barrels.

But most were only tiny kegs. Stapled high in pyramids, as cruel necessity having had taken way for the reverence they truly deserved.

Far too many... Mighty warriors, fallen in defense against horrors...

Scholars that reached too far, or simply made mistakes not even a alicorn could survive...

Even a few artists, whose delicate hooves had taken them further than they ever dreamed off...

A bittersweet smile came to me.

...even to when those hooves had had to be shooed and armed, for war and conflict by cruel, cruel necessity...

I blinked away the tears that almost always came to me in this place.

And yet... they had. Willingly and even with smiles, most of them.

No matter what path had led them... this was the final place for what remained of them rested. Umbra and Rainbow must have guessed at the contents, judging from their quiet reverence... if nothing else, when Rainbow gulped at the sight of seven casks in colors she recognized.

Only the ones sculpted from mist-stone dyed with rainbow essence and the hollowed out amethysts filled with dragon scales, could be counted with more than one wing.

I pressed on.

My tears for this room had been shed long ago, now it was simply a place of remembrance...

I did not stop, but I took a deep breath.

Because like all mausoleum... even this, had a place of honor.

Three shelves, to be exacts. As far in and as best protected as my sister and I could make them. One gilded with gold, the other in silver, both older than the name Equestria for these lands...

We quickly trotted over to the spot where chest for the Elements stood, the showcase that had been the pride of the Golden Oak's library long since smashed and sent ahead by Spike, to be certain they would not fall into Discord's claws.

I unceremoniously yanked it open. As I had suspected, only the golden necklaces remained, their fittings gaping empty.

Of the Elements themselves, only a sign was left... and it was sitting in Rainbow Dash.

I slammed it shut. “It seems the Elements have tired of waiting for their wielders...”

Dash cleared her throat. “Is that... good?”

I shook my head. “I don't know. To my knowledge, this has never happened before.” I turned to her, with a small smirk. “I guess they really like you six.”

Rainbow rolled her eyes at me. “Oh goody. I get clingy and abusive bling of ultimate power stuck in my chest! The possibilities!”

Umbra chuckled softly a twinkle in his eyes. “Tell you what, if you truly don't want it... I can take it.”

The image of the wizened old changeling wearing all the Elements, declaring himself the prettiest princess of them all, forced itself into my mind. I had to bite my lip... but Rainbow showed no such restraint, and was rolling on the floor as a result.

Umbra was just smiling.

I shall admit, it felt good... but I had another small thing to do in this place.

The chest with the Elements stood in-between, in the shelf clad in both silver and gold... but I could not simply pass such hallowed ground by without offering my respects.

I steeled myself, even as I turned to the others and silently gestured for them to stop. A small smile came to me, as I saw them already on their haunches, waiting for me.

I stood before my place of remembrance, head bowed. Lovers gone to fast, students dearly missed, champions long lost, pets that had given and received much love, allies fierce and proud, even a few worthy foes...

And off all, only fragments of bone, feathers long since faded, frayed locks of hair or pelt, tiny scraps of cloth or other such trinkets, remained. Clothed in so many preservative charms and spell, that they seemed nearly underwater from the shimmer of them all.

Even history had not remembered nearly enough off and about them.

As always, a fartoo small keg, made of rosewood bleached white, drew my eyes to the snowflake headed flower on it first...

...Would you have accepted, had I had the chance to offer you Ascension? I never got the chance, my corruption saw to that... and sister had so much grief and things to do, that it slipped her by as you grew old...

Next, a diary bound in leather and a sealed bottle, filled with sand dancing as caught in a storm...

...Oh, love... What would you think, could you see me now? What would you have thought, of all others that followed you? Both in my bed, and to join you? You told me not to mourn, but the heart does as it will...

One of my mother's feathers and locks of father's mane, the later one of the few artifacts with a match on my sisters shelf, rather than a single thing sitting in our shared space...

But she had refused to acknowledge what father had turned himself into, so the splinters of his phylactery rested on my shelf alone.

...I miss you.

I might have stood there for... far too long, to be honest...

Had my eye not caught a light, that should not be there. “What the...?”

I leaned in, towards one of the more recent heartbreaks on this archive of them.

A horn, floating in a glass jar, enchanted such that anything in it would last as long as my moon did. The horn was both longer and wider than average, clearly belonging to a caster of note and must have been a pride of its owner...

My latest apprentice...

One of the finest illusionist I had ever seen...

My last... I could not bring myself to think it. My heart stung too much at doing so.

The horn of Trixie Lulamoon.

But it was cracked and warped from combat, and darkened by a loathsomely familiar corruption. It had once been a proud, brilliant azure... but was now a blue so dark, it was nearly black.

And two magic fields where coiled around it, rising and spiraling around the horn, the streams of power rising towards its tip. One, a pale magenta that made my heart ache...

The other... a darker twin of the first. The purple of a bruise so deep it has reached bone.

At first, I wanted to scream. For her to have survived, only to be consumed by the corruption she had foolishly invited in and in a place, where my aid would not reach her?

The bastard had known exactly what he did, when he left her horn behind, as a torture of hope most fowl.

But the frustrated scream died in my throat, as I noticed the important bit.

The darkness was not consuming Trixie's magic.

The two fields where rising together.

In harmony with each-other.

According to all I knew, all I had ever dared both dream and fear...

That should be impossible.

With a shaking hoof, I reached out, to get a good feel for what was happening.

There was power in that tiny bit of bone, almost, but not quite, on the level of a alicorn... but I recognized not the spells woven. It was more like... power drawn in, but not yet used... and yet, the... ghost of a spell was there. So faint I could not make it out. It was like trying to see shapes drawn in the sand, after a hoof had been drawn over them.

Trixie's part of the magic was near aglow with mirth, hope and... love, burning so bright it almost drove me to my stomach...

The... darker one was... amused, fierce, proud, with a thirst for... something, that almost drowned the other sensations...

But it and the other sensations was being held back by a will of steel... all except a similar love...

And a sense of fatigue and pain that might have made me weep during other circumstances...

But the two together, had already seen to that.

There was a note of corruption to the tiny symphony... but it was a old thing. Faded and scabbed over. A scar of it, if you will.

My two companions draw nearer to see what had made me cry, but stopped with soft little gasps as they saw the horn.

And then I drew in a breath and my tears stopped, as realized what I was seeing.

There is a very rare phenomena, mostly seen in identical unicorn twins.

Spell resonance. Even I have only seen it a few wingful of times.

When one casts a spell, the others horn will glow. It may not seen as much, but according to legend it means a soul was born twice, and is a mark of great potential...

But Discord had taken Trixie's horn during their fight... which meant...

“She's... she's...” The words died in my throat, as the real implications dawned.

She was... alive. Not some human wearing her face... but she, she was still alive, somehow!

And I vaguely felt my plot hit the shielded floor, as the further implications sank in.

She'd not only tamed the Nightmare corruption, something I thought beyond even me... even if I had cared to try again.

But she was also resonating, not only with it, but herself.

...Which meant Trixie was performing magic without her horn.

A unashamed grin split my face, as tears of pure joy streaming down to the floor. I turned my head towards Umbra and Rainbow who where looking at the horn with similar expressions of awe, and near whispered.

“She's alive. Not only that, but she's done the impossible twice over past that.”

I jumped to my hooves, prancing like a filly and so utterly not caring who saw it! And I shouted wordlessly, with pride, with joy! Not giving a flying buck over the strange looks Umbra and Rainbow was giving me.

I heard him whisper to Rainbow. “Is she her lover, or something?”

I pounced the old cot, giving him a kiss before he had time to even yelp. He looked a bit weary when I held him at hooveslenght, but he gave me a hesitant smile as I grinned at him. “Do you know what this means?”

He carefully shook his head.

“Trixie lives! My darling apprentice have done the impossible in exile! Trice!”

I unceremoniously dropped him, vaguely hearing a buzz as his wings found the air, and a snicker from Rainbow.

But I had more important things on my mind. I turned back to my shelf, my eyes drawn not to the horn, but to the diary of my first love and his wedding gift to me.

Did you hear that, Star Gazer? She isn't dead!

I sank down on my haunches with my front-hooves pressed over my pounding heart, tears still streaming.

Our line isn't dead! The last of the Lunar heard still lives!

Author's Note

Bit of trivia for those that care about such. This and Chapter Three was originally one, but I thought it flowed better like this.

Oh, and everything past "on her coltfriends bracers" was added in a rewrite because I thought it lacked "punch." I hope the new one does better in that regard.

Chapter Five - Not So Shy, Anymore... Part One

Chapter Five - Not So Shy, Anymore… Part One

Wednesday May 13, 2020. 9:48

A bit outside Española, New Mexico.

I glared into the uncaring mirror, but nothing changed.

...Well, a red spot quickly formed and the mirror cracked and distorted, but nothing about me changed.

I shifted a step to the left, forcing myself to become a bit calmer. It worked enough for me to look into the mirror, but my fucking wings still stood flared in anger, though.

Canary yellow wings.

A soft, pink mane reaching my lower back.

Bloodshot eyes the wrong color, with a red glare in them.

That fucking mark, staining my chest and hips...

My hoof drew back as I shifted my weight forward, my body following the hay-maker...

And my hoof stopped, only a hair's breadth away as I realized how foolish I was acting.

The mirror cracked once more anyway, as my eyes lingered too long.

I closed my eyes, as to not vaporize anything in my fury, as I slowly lowered my shaking... hoof.

Two fucking weeks. Two. Fucking. Weeks.

And you'd think I'd be calming down by now, but noooo...

The flashes of fucking memory had seen to that.

Especially the last one!

”If I ever meet Discord again, I'm tearing his fucking head off...”

As the snarling echo hit me, I feel sobbing in a tangled heap on the bathroom tiles. Not even my voice was the same.

And yet it was.

Granted, no reason why it should have been spared... But it’s the little things that hit you hardest, you know?

I'm not certain how long I lay there... but the realization that I was using my hoofs and wings to cover my face snapped my out of it.

“Anthony?” A voice came through the door.

Mom. Sounding worried.

“Yes?” I croaked out.

“…Are you on the floor? Should I come in?”

I laughed bitterly. “Just having an existential crisis... Please don't.”

My mother stood still for a moment, and then I heard the soft click of the door. Must have forgotten to lock it. She gasped a bit, at the sight of the mirror and the faint smell of smoke. The she gasped again, before rushing over and scooping me up.

A part I thought I had left behind long ago just wanted to wail in her arms... but I carefully tried to push her away, eyes tightly closed. “Mom, please. I don't want you to get hurt...”

She just gripped me tighter. “Why would I?

“...I glared at the mirror.” I swept a hoof toward the mess. ”It did that. I... don't trust myself, right now...”

I pattered of, my train of thought lost as mom started stroking my hair. A tiny coo of delight forced its way out of my throat. I rested my head against her neck, careful not to scratch her with my horn. She gasped a little, as I hugged her tighter. “Not so hard!”

I relented, feeling a bit sheepish. “...Sorry.”

I felt a pat on my back. “Your simply stronger than you’re used to.”

That was an understatement...

I'd tried bucking one of the old trees on our property, just to get a feel for my new slash old body...

The damn tree had folded over, almost split in half.

“It'll come to you, in time. Just be careful until then and everything will be fine.”

I hugged a little tighter... this time I didn't hear ribs creaking. “Love you, mom.”

She chuckled. I wonder how she'd react if I told the portly woman with raven black hair and twinkling brown eyes that she was literally the best mom I'd ever had...

The image of a frowning, almost sneering, pegasus mare looking almost like me, but thinner and with a blue mane and dressed in a Wonderbolt uniform flashed through my mind. I quickly fought it down.

The nag didn't deserve to be remembered.

“Love you too, sweetie.”

I smiled wide at the words...

Before realization came crushing in replacing the smile with a horrified grimace.

Mom just chuckled at me and my blush, offering the newly cleaned and folded bathrobe she had been carrying without further comment. I donned it quickly, still blushing.

The women put a hand on her hip, shaking her head. “Like you have anything to be ashamed off, sweetie...” She leaned in and up, kissing my burning cheek. “As soon as you leave the house, you’re going to have to get a stick just to beat of all the suitors, I can tell!”

“Mom, please don't...” I said, fidgeting.

It was true, I had to admit that a part of my got... exited, no other word for it, when I looked down and saw curves...

Didn't stop me from being a bit uncomfortable about the subject, though.

Mom took my hoof with one hand, petting it with the other. “I know this is...”

“Utterly fucked up?” I offered.

She turned her last pet into a light smack, making me jolt. “Language.”

I leveled a gaze at her. “Mom, I've turned into a pony princess. With magic glowing eyes of doom. What possibly could be more worthy of swears?”

Mom hesitated for a moment, before she continued petting my... Fuck it. I don't care if the real word is foreleg. ...my arm. She was silent for a while longer. “...Just don't like hearing my little boy swearing...” She drifted off, looking at where the cleavage of a woman should have been.

I glanced down. Down at the... Ugh. ...pink butterfly fused with my flesh. Flesh still raw and aching from the sudden appearance of the gems in question.

One of the least pleasant ways I've ever woken up let me tell you… I had to show both my pillows into my mouth not to scream my head off.

I quickly tugged the robe a bit closer, hiding the thing from view. Mom's troubled gaze just shifted to my eyes.

“Anything you want to talk about?” I asked, trying my best fake smile...

But mom didn't buy it, she just sighed before speaking. “...Sorry, I'm just... worried.”

“About...?”

She chuckled softly and without any humor. “Sorry, sorry... I've been reading too many bad novels. I keep expecting... I don't know. Somebody or something to just...” She throw her arms wide. “...dart in here and carry you off to some grand destiny...”

I turned, lifting the hem of my robe enough to show her the three pink butterflies on my hips...

The one's with red cross-hairs over them. Right where a butterflies heart is.

I let the robe fall, before saying with confidence and a smile: “Consider that these things are supposedly once destiny made manifest... I think it proves you have some say in it.”

Mom chuckled again... but smiling this time. “You've always been scary good with a rifle...”

I stuck my tongue out at her. “Would you even say special talent, scary good?”

Mom tilted her head at me. “You know, I didn't get that part...”

I made air-quotes... mom giggling at the sight of that gesture being performed with hooves. “’Everypony has their own special magic...’” I shrugged, with a rustling of feathers filling the tiny room. “I don't get it either. This addition shouldn't be there according to what I know. You’re only supposed to get one magic tramp stamp... no matter your other talents.”

I chuckled, at the warning glare my mother shot me. “It's the name of a type of tattoo and you know it, mom.”

Mom sighed, absently patting some completely imaginary dust from the dress she was wearing...

And a horrifying thought struck me.

Please, God. Never, ever have her realize I'm te-

A slow, terrifying grin spread on my mother’s face. “So, when am I going to get you out of those robes... and into something a bit more... feminine? My dear daughter?”

Gha!

I quickly raised my hooves, to ward myself against the woman that had... Brrr! ...clothes-shopping, on the mind.

Then my frown turned into a smile, as I saw an out. “Probably a long time, mom. I need to be able to...”

Mom just snorted at me. “You haven't been down on all fours since you tried bucking that poor tree. Nice try, but I'm not buying it.”

Fuck! But how abo-

I blinked. Then I crossed my arms, giving her a careful look. “Mom, I'm twenty-five. I'm not wearing a dress and that is final.”

“It would be more flexible and less restrictive than pants...” She lifted the edge of an arm on my robe, giving it a disapproving look. “And you really intend to go out in public wearing a red and blue plaid bathrobe?”

I shrugged again, the sound of feathers once more momentarily distracting me. It was just so... alien, and yet familiar. The combination weirded me out. “Mom, think about it. Something that covers you and is still flexible enough to allow you to move on both two and four legs, without leaving anything just hanging out. Robes are going to be the next jeans and t-shirts, mark my words...”

Mom barked out a laugh. “And that you get to run around pretending to be a mighty wizard has nothing to do with it?”

I tapped my horn and flared my wings, grinning at her. “Who's pretending?”

My smile faltered as mom's did, she looked down on her hands. I followed her sight... They were shaking. I took a step forward and gave her another hug. “Mom... I know what the bible has to say about witches...”

Mom started gently sobbing.

“But I made no bargains for this.”

I petted her head, as the sobs slowly stopped. I continued. “He- Heck, I don't know how good a source the Dresden files are, but according to them the ‘Suffer not’ thing is actually a mistranslation.”

“...Really?” Mom said her voice very quiet. I still heard the hope in it, though.

I nodded, still petting her softly. “Originally it was only referencing black magic. Curses and thing, you know? Hel- Heck, early exorcist supposedly called and bound demons to do God's work.”

Mom tensed. “...What do you know about... things like that?”

I sighed. “Mom, you know I'm agnostic. Let's not have that row again. I read it in a book, OK?”

And I very, very carefully didn't mention that that book was The Lesser Key of Solomon...

I felt mom slowly relax. “Sorry,” she said her voice a little hard, but friendly enough it was clear she was trying. I secretly breathed a sigh of relief. “It's just... This is hard for me to understand, OK? I know you’re a good bo- gi- ma-” She stumbled for a while, trying to find the words. I just looked sadly at the hoof resting on her shoulder. “Person.” She finally said with a bit of force, making me smile again. “...I know you'll do the right thing, no matter what temptations are laid on your path... or by Whom.”

I blinked, before resting both hooves on her shoulders and giving her a look at arm’s length. “...You think this is a temptation by the devil.”

My voice was flat, but mother winced, trying not to look me in the eye.

“Me having turned into Fluttershy. Fluttershy.”

Mom swallowed, giving me a quick nod. Looking pale.

I shook my head slowly. “You do know...” I stumbled, almost saying ‘I'm,’ but I corrected myself quickly enough that I don't think she noticed. “...she's supposedly kindness incarnate, right?”

Mom gave me a weak smile. “The Fruit of Knowledge was hardly rotten when offered...”

I sighed, letting my arms drop. “Why a hick in the middle of nowhere? Why not the pope? Or the president? I own a gun-shop! That is hardly a center of power!”

Mom shrugged. “God moves in mysterious ways... Must that not then also hold true, for an adversary that keeps hounding Him?”

I almost pointed out that the idea of ‘The Adversary’ was Christian myth, with almost no basis in the bible...

But I've also have had that row before.

I sighed, putting both hooves on my hips. I sometimes wish I had never read the d- darn bible.

Actually knowing the tales... Nothing kills ones faith quicker.

I probably didn't fit the real definition of an agnostic... but mom would freak if I ever declared myself an atheist and agnostic left place for the existence of God...

Bleeding statues and people speaking in tongues just... seemed even sillier, when you could instead I don't know... do something practical to help?

Having turned into next best thing to a goddess? Not exactly helping me budge from the position.

And don't even get me started on mixed fabrics and...

I sighed. I'd also have had that row before.

And suddenly my mom looked really worried. I decided to throw her a bone. “Would you feel better, if I went to a confession?”

My mom's face went carefully neutral. “...Only if you really want to...”

Which I translated in my head from Mom to English as: “YES!”

I faked a smile... she frowned, clearly not buying it.

She didn't actually step back or anything, but suddenly she felt... distant. “...You don't want to go to church.”

“Mom,” I quickly countered. “I've turned into next best thing to Minnie Mouse, except cuter and less scary. I don't want to go out in public, period. It's just begging to go wrong...” My shoulders and wings sagged, because I can't believe, the idea I just had is a lesser evil. “Can't you just press a cross against me and be done with it?”

Mom suddenly found her feet very interesting, and she started wringing her hands. “...I'm no Abraham. I... can't. Not to you.”

Oh. I sucked in a deep breath as I understood. Mom was having a crisis of faith, a nasty one.

But a part of me soared at the words.

“Look,” I began, knowing I would regret this, but I needed to do this. For mom. “Can we just get going then? This is clearly tearing at you. If me going stops that... then I'll do it.”

Quicker than you can say “What. The. Fuck.” we were somehow in the car.

Hey, don't look at me. I blame freaky mom powers, not available to us lesser (im-) mortals.

I looked down. I even had my seatbelt on.

O-K. “Mom... How?”

“Ah, so you did bang your head when I carried you out.”

I shook my head, noting a slight ringing in my ears. “Never mind...”

I pulled the hood I'd added over my head. It barely hid my horn and muzzle, but at least I looked like a random unicorn trying to stay incognito, rather than the Princesses of Kindness.

Call it a hunch, but I think the paparazzi may be more interested in the later.

Mom was giving me a strange look, though. “What?” I asked her.

“Where did that hood come from? That's a bathrobe.”

I shrugged. “I had freaky good sewing skills in my last life. Even had a knitting dungeon hidden under my house. They're starting to come back.”

“Ha, ha. Very funny,” she said. Clearly not believing me. “Now's not the time to joke.”

For a second, I was tempted to point out that according to what I remembered from the bible, all other animals were made to serve man, the only creature that had been given free will and a soul.

Ergo, if this transformation messed with such thing, it had been too late to save me weeks ago.

...Then I noticed how white her knuckles were on the wheel.

I rolled a natural D20 on my diplomacy skill and shut my damn mouth about it.

I put a hoof under my chin and watched the world roll by instead... Thinking. Just watching the scrubs, the trees and sand of the dessert, role by as we rolled away from the house...

...Trying not to think how inviting that sky looked.

What if I did burst into flame the moment I touched holy ground?

Would that imply that Satan was a brony? Or God, for that matter?

Was hell in fact, cute, pastel colored and strangely obsessed with puns? Did that mean Lauren Faust had brokered a deal for her talent, and in turn, she had to show the light-bringer, her lands and her champions in all their pastel colored (mostly) equine glory?

Since I had turned into one of the mane six, did that make me some manner of archdemon? If so, of what? The Dark Lady of Kindness, Mistress of All Things Fluffy had a nice ironic ring to it...

I nodded thoughtfully to myself. The world is far to fucked up, for hell not to run on irony.

A bird flew beside the car for a moment, strangely interested in me. I gave it a small smile and a wave. It quickly darted off, somehow managing to look somewhat confused.

...So, did that mean that these were the end-times?

...Hmm, according to some stories I've read there were five horsemen originally... Death, Pestilence, War, Famine... and Chaos.

...Granted, that was Pratchett. Not certain if he made that one up or not.

...Still, it would be very chaotic to unleash a plague of magic horses on the world.

But what if I took the ‘logic’ one step further?

What if a sixth had been forgotten as well?

Just which would I be in that case?

Now there's a thought... “Hey, mom?”

“Yes, dear?” she said, absentmindedly and eyes on the road.

“How come it took you this long to drag me to the nearest holy-ground?”

Mom was very silent for a while, so I looked out the window again.

I started humming ‘Silent night’ just to mess with her.

Don't get me wrong, I love my momma... but these little moods of hers irritate me.

A god that does not save them that doesn’t believe in Him or Her, doesn’t deserve worship. One that tortures any who do not bow? Doubly so.

I chuckled softly, my little act of musical rebellion finished. Now that? That had been a row and a half.

“...I prayed,” she said, voice near a whisper. “...It... didn't work.”

I sighed, but kept it internal. If there was an argument that convinced her that the earlier scene in the bathroom had been a moment of weakness and that I was on the whole okay with the changes...

...I couldn't think of one.

The bastard that had caused this whole mess though if I could trust the ‘memories’ that kept popping into my head?

Fuck him.

Sideways.

With a rusty rasp.

I quickly closed my eyes, as I noted the condensation forming on the window. The mirror was enough broken stuff for one day.

Then my stomach gurgled.

...Well, one of them at least. Fuck me if I knew which. Or do horses work like cows in that regard? I don't know a thing about horse anatomy. Magic cartoon pony princesses? I was honestly surprised things went in one way and out the other, to be blunt.

Note to self, Google pony anatomy when I get home. I'm freaking Fluttershy now. I should just know these things...

“Any chance of a potential last meal?” I said, not thinking.

Mom swirled, almost losing control of the car. The belt really not meant for my new frame dug uncomfortably deep into my flesh.

We came to a complete stop, on the side of the empty road.

I'd been so startled I hadn't even had time to swear.

“...What?” Mom near whispered again.

I gave her a careful look. She flinched slightly from it, but only slightly. “Mom, you’re dragging me... Pardon the pun, but lord knows where, to see if holy-ground makes the new me catch on fire... Did it even occur to you what that would mean and do to me, if you got the answer you dread?”

Mom opened her mouth... then she closed it. This cycle continued a few times, before she turned her head and just stared towards infinity.

...So, that's a ‘no’ then...

Tears started dripping from her eyes, but her knuckles whitened again. “I'm... so sorry, but I need to know.”

She jumped slightly, as I leaned forward and gave her a kiss on the cheek. The tears stopped immediately. “...What was that for?”

“Love you, mom...” I said, with a smile. “...even if you're completely cray-cray.”

I leaned back, still smiling, as mom harrumphed. But it was a happy harrumph.

“...Any place in particular?”

Huh. Didn't think that would actully work... “Any place with pizza is good in my book.”

Mom hesitated. “...You sure?”

I opened my mouth and showed my teeth... including the small canines. “I'll risk a tummy-ache. I'm not risking not having bacon in what could theoretically be my last meal.”

Mom hesitated, again. “...I thought...” She gulped. “...Fluttershy had a thing for animals?”

Huh, so she has watched the show. I waved a hoof lazily. “One, past life. Two, circle of life. Three, bacon. Four, I love bacon. Five, bacon, bacon, bacon. Six, nature, red in tooth and claw. Seven, bacon. I rest my case.”

Mom snickered, despite herself. “I think I see a pattern...”

I snickered a little myself. “Yeah... Besides, horses eat meat. They just don't hunt for it actively. As long as I don't mash my mouth full of raw beef, I should be fine...”

“...Really?”

“Sure. Sometime they even just...”

“Stop,” she said, placing a hand gently on my muzzle. “I know of your fascination with Animal Planet. I think I prefer not to know, to be honest...”

I leaned back and rolled my eyes, as she removed her hand and restarted the engine. Tell somebody once of the life-circle of the common tapeworm....

It’s not like I came running into the dining room with a mouth full of cold noodles. That was all my brothers’ idea and doing.

I thought came to me. “Mom, can you stop the car?”

“...Why?” She asked, not even lifting her eyes from the road.

I had to hand it to her, New Mexico has its charms... but the view along the roads gets a bit samey after a while. Looong stretches of desert with the odd green patch.

“If we are risking my face on the tabloid anyway...” I took a deep breath, not certain how mom would react. “...Then I'd like to stretch my wings.”

Mom slowly drove of the road, stopped the engine... and then just turned and gave me a look.

“I've been cooped up for two weeks. While being able to fly.” I plainly stated. “If there is a better way to go completely stir crazy, I don't know it.”

Mom's eye drifted to my sides, her jaw tightening.

“I promise not to fly out of sight... I just want to try it, you know?”

Mom tilted her head, hesitation writ large. “...You sure it's safe?”

A grin spread, as it seemed I was getting anywhere. “Like swimming. Just don't go to ‘deep’ and you're golden.”

Mom turned her head, and gave the crystal clear azure sky a look. Gotcha. My wings had been itching at the sight almost the whole trip.

“Please? I need to hide them anyway. Why not let me stretch them first?” I pleaded.

Mom was still hesitating... so I gave her the puppy dog treatment.

That actually made her chuckle. “Well... Somebody has adapted to their ‘magic glowing eyes of doom’ kind of quickly...”

“Please? Do you have any idea what torture it is to learn how to fly... and be restricted to your bedroom?”

Mom blinked. “So that's what dose thumping sounds where...”

I raised an eyebrow, smiling softly. Sure, that had been one of the thumping sounds... “Do I dare ask?”

Mom just shrugged. “Though you were punching the wall in frustration. That you were... learning your...”

I put a hoof on her hand. “Mom, I know this is hard for you. You don't have to finish that sentence.”

She looked up, straight into my eyes. Her own brown ones heavy with worry. “...Promise you'll come back?”

Ah... So that was it. Still, it cost me nothing, so... “Promise...” I reached towards her neck. She grew still, but didn't do anything else. I fished up the silver crucifix she was wearing. Her eyes grew a bit larger, as I placed it in my other hoof. “I swear I'll be back as soon as I hear you call. Good enough?”

For the first time since my transformation, a big smile that actually reached her eyes nearly lit up the inside of the car. “More than enough. You have fun, OK?”

I grinned so wide my cheeks made that strange squeak.

“...But we're still going. I think you need it, no matter the... other stuff.”

I pouted a bit. “Fine...” But then I grinned again. Flying! Who hasn't dreamed?

I frowned as I stepped out, before the pleasure from the warm, dry breeze blow it away...Making my hair billow behind me, and my feathers rustle in a way that sent pleasure tingling through me...

Fluttershy! Fluttershy! Fluttershy can hardly fly...!

I shiver rushed down my spine, despite the heat. To have something like that ruined by morons...

I actually hadn't gotten that memory back... but the version from the show was bad enough.

I looked at the inviting sky. Never again. This Fluttershy isn't going to run off to the forest and hide as a bucking hermit.

Mom came up to my side, water-bottle in hand. “...What are you waiting for?”

“Just savoring to moment. First proper flight, you know? I want to remember this...”

Mom nodded, before fishing around in her bra for something... Her hand came out with her cellphone. “Isn't much... but I might be able to get a photo or two...”

I coughed into a hoof. “Err... I actually... You know, since it's just you and me...” I pattered off.

Mom just laughed merrily. “Like this would be the first nude photo I have of you! You think that robe will get in the way...” She leaned forward, giving me a hug. “I want you back, you hear? That's the important bit.”

I squeezed back slightly, before backing off.

I took another moment to just... take in, the sky. I could actually see the thermals and airstream, twisting in the air. Some lazy, some near roaring. Driven by the rising heat...

...From the warm, living ground. I dug my hooves down a bit, feeling a connection form, letting me sense things. Beatles, lizards, snakes... The plants. This place was hardly as barren as it looked. It simply slept through the worst of the heat.

...But strangely enough, it was the last part that took my breath away.

Ley-lines.

They were everywhere. Heat from the baking sun twisting towards the heavens in roaring coils... Cold lingering in some of the larger rocks, waiting to be replenished anew by the night... Water from a small spring I simply should not know of, but whose power in the desert made it shine like a sparkling beacon of life and hope...

I simply must find a way to capture this for others to see. It is simply not fair for only me to see it...

I carefully undid the cord holding my robe together, before quickly folding it and putting it on the seat. Mom giggled slightly.

I left the door open. No need to come back to a sauna...

Then I got down on all fours. I wasn't certain how it affected my flight, but I didn't want to take any chances.

Now, going four-wheel drive? Very odd sensation. Like unfolding or unfolding a limb, but I actually felt bones rearrange.

Mom made a strange sound somewhere between a fought-back curse and a whimper. “...That doesn’t hurt?”

I gave her a reassuring smile. “Not a bit. Just feels a bit odd.”

She gave me a slow nod, eyes still a bit wide.

I flared my wings, tensed...

And realized something, making me slap my forehead in annoyance. “Mom, you have a bag or something?”

She tilted her head, but then her eyes lit up in recognition. “Did you even pack your cellphone?”

My eyes wandered over to the freshly cleaned robe, whose pockets I'd emptied before getting into the shower. “...Fuck.”

She held up a hand. “Wait.”

I sat down... only to shoot to my feet again with a yelp. I did not need to know what warm sand felt like against that part of my anatomy.

Mom just giggled, as she darted to the driver’s seat. I heard her rummage through her purse...

She came back around, carrying and fiddling with a wristwatch. “Here,” she said, as she presented it to me. I put it on my arm without hesitation. “I've set it for little more than an hour. I don't think we should be out in this sun longer than that, anyway.”

“Thanks, Mom!” I grinned mischievously. “Now if you e-”

Mom interrupted me and my corny joke. “Gotta fly? Come on, that joke is older than these hills.”

I stuck my tongue out. “Spoilsport.”

She chuckled softly, just making a single gesture towards the oh so inviting sky. I didn't need more encouragement than that.

I tensed, and sprung...

I actually made good air just from the off-blast, I heard mom gasp as I easily reached eight-nine feet straight up from a standing start.

Supernatural powers for the win! As I felt gravity try to reclaim me, I bet my wings once...

And almost panicked, my face twisting into a worried grimace. My wings weren’t doing anything! They were just... slipping through the air!

I quickly beat them again and again... before crashing into the ground with a small “Ump!”

Mom was at my side in an instant. “You alright? What happened?”

I shakingly got to my feet... All four of them. ...and just started laughing.

Mom looked really worried and hugged me, but untensed as soon as I hugged her back.

It took a while, before my giggles died away.

“...So, what happened?” Mom asked.

“...I forgot we have humidifiers back home!” Then I started giggling again.

“...Huh?”

I quickly fought the giggles down and explained that (According to the show, at least.) pegasi and many other Equestrian creatures fly by manipulating the moisture in the air, not air pressure. My wings were too small to do it the other-way...

And this is a dessert.

During the middle of the day.

Thus the sack of bricks impression.

Mom's mouth turned to a little O of understanding... then she just laughed with me.

After a while I let go and got up on two legs again, as I wiped a happy little tear from my eye. “Too bad these dread powers of cuteness doesn't come with a manual, huh?”

Mom tensed slightly at my joke. Oops, too soon, I guess. But she just shrugged and dropped it.

I took that as a sign to hurry over and get dressed. I folded my wings tightly and struggled the robe over me and once I had all my other limbs in their proper places I just smoothed together the Velcro I'd put on the edges of the wing-slits for just such an occasion.

Ta-da. Unicorn!

...Granted, with such an iconic face and color combination as my ow- new one, it would hardly work against anybody with even a passing knowledge of MLP... but better than nothing.

Mom was looking at me oddly again. “When exactly did you do that?”

“When I added the hood, obviously.”

She tilted her head at me. “Since when do you know how to sew so well? I can hardly see them from here.”

I looked her straight in the eye. “The freaky good sewing skills from my past life are starting to come back.”

She opened her mouth once... then just shrugged and got into the car. I followed, buckling my belt. We were soon off again.

“So where are we going?”

“I'll tell you if you please don't sing that damn song...”

That made me blink. “We're going to Albuquerque?!”

I quickly paid more attention to the new compass in my head. Being part bird is awesome, and don't try to tell me and my freaky powers anything else. Yep, we were heading south from Española, not west towards.

I cursed internally. I really should have recognized the way we were heading sooner... I take this road often enough to get between my parents’ home and my shop.

I turned to mom and raised an eyebrow. “Why Albuquerque? Why not...”

My list of suggestions got hushed. “You wanted to stay incognito, right? If we go to our regular church everybody will recognize me and the car, at least. Albuquerque is larger, easier for us to blend in...”

I grumbled a bit, trying to find a flaw in the logic... but couldn't. “Fine, but I want to check the shop if we're adding that much travel time anyway...”

Mom raised her eyebrow as she shot me a glance. “You took your keys, but not your cell?”

I shrugged. “Just an outside look for now then. I haven't been there since... you know. I'd feel better if I knew the place is still standing.”

Mom hummed at me, nodding. “Sure, we can do that.”

I hummed in an affirmative fashion, before amusing myself with another new freaky bird power of mine, by focusing on a single plant and just following it until it fell out of view. I honestly probably don't even need a rifle sight anymore. Why bother when you have closest damn thing to hawk-eyes?

It got boring after a while, so I started calculating trajectories in my head for sniping them instead. I wonder if the whole ‘special talent’ had anything to do with it, but I could almost see the trajectories in the air... despite the movement from the car.

Hmm, have to try that one day. One hell of a trick-shot...

My little destructive streak kept me amused for long enough, that I had to switch of the alarm on the wristwatch.

An idea came to me. “So, mom?”

“Yes?”

“Could we take one of the roads along the Rio on the way home?”

“A bit tired of seeing the desert?”

I shrugged, my wings twitching against the fabric of my robe. “That too. But mostly I want a do over. Should be a bit more moisture in the air near the river...”

“...You’re very insistent on this...” Mom said carefully.

“I've been cooped up to long. I just want to stretch them a bit before going back home. That little sack of bricks impression just made the itch in them worse.”

Mom hesitated again. I sighed. “Mom, I have no intention to fly cackling evilly into the sunset. I just want to scratch this darn itch in them. I know this is hard for you, but think of it like this...”

Mom remained silent and focused on the road, but I almost felt her focus on me. “Would you even hesitate if I asked to stretch my legs?”

“Of course not.”

“You do realize that means all four of them at the moment, yes?”

Mom sat up a bit more rigidly. Gotcha. “I haven't tried it yet, but I should be able to reach a gallop... It may be ground-bound, but almost as hard to catch up with... meaning you'd have to trust me just as much then. Just saying.”

I felt a bit guilty as her shoulders sagged a bit, but I had to say it.

Then she surprised me, by sitting up straight again. She turned slightly, twinkle in her eye. “Wanna try it?”

I blinked, scratching my shin. “...I must admit, that sounds interesting... But is it really wise along the freeway?”

Mom shrugged. “This... pony business is keeping folks mostly indoors for now. I haven't seen a single other car, have you? I don't mind risking it, if you don't...”

I was really damn tempted for a couple of moments... before shaking my head. All it took for disaster to strike would be another driver being so distracted by the sight of me, that they’d just drive straight of the road. I just couldn't risk it in good conscience. “Nah,” I said with genuine happiness, as I flashed mom a squeaky smile. “But thank so much for offering. Means a lot to me.”

Mom chuckled, eyes once again on the road. “De nada... but why do your cheeks do that sound?”

I shrugged. “I think it’s another pony equivalent of blushing? You know? Shows others of the ‘tribe’ you really mean it, but with smiles instead of awkwardness and arousal? Something like that.”

“It’s adorable.”

My cheeks caught fire, as another squeak sounded through the car. Mom just laughed at the sight.

We drove in silence for a while, before mom sucked in a breath. “Got it.”

“Hmm?”

She pointed to a sign. It flashed past quickly, but I had time to read “Caronado State Monument” before losing sight of it. Mom continued. “The parking-lot is just a couple of stone throws from the river. How about there?”

I nodded. I remembered the place from a school trip. Ruins and a few artifacts in a visitors building. I'd found it duller than dirt at the time...

But now? Something about the thought of learning more about my human heritage and history sounded... right.

I didn't want to lose that part of me.

I hummed softly, once more lost to the world in thought.

I may have a few fuzzy memories of my time as her... but I was hardly the skittish little mare from them...

I shivered. Always afraid of being judged. That aspect from them had been... granted, something I saw coming, but a nasty shock, nonetheless.

Honestly...

A nice house... but at the edge of monster central.

A decently enough work... before Ascension. Brrr! No wonder I had an almost pathological fear of fucking paperwork! Being a princess was hard and boring, most of the time.

I tilted my head, still humming. Granted, the luxury and respect was a nice perk... but frankly not worth the constant attention and obligations.

I was glad ‘old’ me had had grown enough of a spine to put her hoof down with Celestia on that, at least.

“You ascended me for my work with the EverFree. Leave the bucking court intrigue to Rarity! She thrives on the darn stuff! ….Err, if-that's-alright-with-you...”

I shook my head, clearing it. Quoting yourself and only half remembering it felt weird.

...Wonder what did happen to her? I still remembered how cold I'd felt seeing the season finale... The giant demon-monster-thing threatening Equestria, Discord's betrayal, how I- I mean Fluttershy had pleaded with Discord to bring her friends back, or failing that, to do the same to her...

I held up a canary yellow hoof in the light, studding it. I kind of got my reaction of hiding behind the couch better now. I let it drop in my lap.

Speaking of friends...

A list of names and faces flashed through my mind. I'd never met any of them... and yet...

A part of me ached with longing, as I recalled them anyway...

Rarity. Princesses of Generosity... and the Alpha of Alphas for the diamond dogs.

Kind, generous, fabulous Rarity...

We'd all been so shocked when she went back to the diamond dogs... but that had been nothing towhen she told us she had bucked the leaders in the face to make them accept her authority. “Well, darlings...” she had said when we asked why... “...I just couldn't stop thinking how awful conditions where in that place. Half of them didn't seem to know how to bathe, for Harmony's sake! ...So I did something about it. Seemed worth the try...”

And then she'd spent nearly a year doing it to pack after pack... Heck, quite a lot had seen where the wind was blowing and sworn fealty to her anyway.

There had been lots of nasty, nasty rumors... but the longer time went on and it became clearer she really was trying to carve a civilized place for them...

Granted, the throne of gems in Carousel Boutique had probably not helped... But details.

Celestia had ascended her on the spot when it had become clear to her, that Rarity had turned one of the most stubborn irritations for Equestrian society to citizens. I smiled softly at the memory. She'd been so happy to be able to fly again, of all things, that she hadn't touched the ground for days afterward...

...I hope the ‘alliance’ holds in her absence. Things were rolling along so smoothly, it would be a shame for something with such promise to fall apart just over this...

...And how had things happened when Discord came for her? Fido and Spot barely left her side, self-proclaimed ‘body-guards of the Alpha’ as they called themselves... I simply can’t imagine them or Rarity just having folded...

Twilight. Twilight Sparkle. The Princesses of Magic.

Always studying, always reading... A smile came to me. Our cute little egghead...

The first of us rewarded... and she'd bucking earned it. The effects had been horrible, even from the glimpses of the first miscast I could remember... but a spell that allows you to buck fate right in the face? Even with the work half-finished, it was a deed worthy of song.

My smile fell. And the first to fall to Discord's plan... for me. She hadn't even gotten a chance to throw a book at him from what I heard. He just... stabbed her in the back with the curse.

But what had happened to cute little Spike? He'd been given the role as Ponyville librarian, if I could trust the fragments of memory and the show... Had he had time to flee? Discord hadn't mentioned him...

I shook my head. No matter. He was either here on Earth, going through similar changes as I had... or back in Equestria. Either way, beyond my help at the moment. I wished him and my other friends luck, however. For all I know, they may need it...

Dash. Rainbow Dash. Element of Loyalty. Captain of the Wonderbolts!

Energetic Dash... Always in such a hurry everywhere...

The first pegasus in generations capable of the Sonic Rainboom. To fly so fast she broke the sound-barrier with only the wings on her back... Something even Celestia and Luna found somewhat draining.

The last of us that had left to ascend... but hardy the least among us. And considering the type of lives we all seemed to be living I frankly thought it only a matter of time, before she did get ascended.

She had been just returning from a tour with them, when Discord... did his thing. Had she been missed? I almost hoped not. For Dashie to be the last left? I... honestly could not think of a worse fate for her.

Pinky. Pinkamena Diane Pie. Princesses of Laughter...

I just had to smile, as I could almost hear her add “And parties! Never, ever, ever forget them!”

Sweet, happy Pinky... Always with a smile and a joke.

...Still have no idea what was up with all those strange powers of hers, come to think about it. Oh well...

...Still, they allowed her to get to Canterlot quickly enough to get help, when the gates of Tartarus broke. Even Twilight couldn't have done that quickly enough, and yet... She'd just... dived through the nearest mirror, popping out near instantly with Celestia, Luna and... Discord. All three looking baffled, before she fainted from overexerting herself...

The battle had turned quite one-sided, after that... Three beings as close to godhood I've ever met and the rest of the Elements saw to that...

I smirked softly to myself. Wonder how mom would react to knowing I literally fought demons in my last life? Somewhere between wonder and horror, I'd imagine...

...And judging from how Discord had been still been shaking streamers and cake from his fur when he told me his ‘brilliant’ plan... she'd fought hard, before falling.

...Wonder what she is doing now? The others, sure... But Pinky in a normal profession? ...Granted, she had the whole baker thing going... But my imagination failed me, trying to picture her as say... an accountant, or something.

Rodeo clown, daredevil or international man/women of mystery, sure... but accountant? The picture simply wouldn’t form in my head.

Applejack. Princess of Honesty.

Proud, honest Applejack...

I chuckled softly. ...And the Eternal Matron of the Apples, as some had started calling her, to her chagrin.

...But then again, she did save Manehattan almost single ‘hoofily...’ That kind of thing gives you something of a reputation.

He he he... “Now wait one gosh darn minute. I may have saved Manehattan from that cloud of parasprites by playing that fiddle until I nearly dropped, but there's no bucking way that... that... that... Oh dear, that was kinda impressive... But still! There's no bucking way that was princesses impressive, your Highnesses... So there!”

I grinned happily at the memory. We had her in a crown and dress before the day was over. She grumbled all the way to Canterlot...

I glanced at the clear sky, picturing myself and the others flying side by side again... The thought almost broke my heart.

I hummed softly. Speaking of former problems and ascensions... I wonder how Rex is doing without his mommy...

Or Angel for that matter.

I shrugged, internally as to not worry mom. Meh, I'm sure they miss me as much as I miss them both, but they're also both two grown entities of dark and horrible, ancient power... I'm sure they can take care of themselves.

I cracked my fetlocks. And if they've gone out of line, momma is just going to have to spank them both when she gets back. I most certainly intend to do so to Discord if I ever get the chance...

I rested my head against my chin again, after tugging the hood down again. We were getting closer to civilization, and I didn't want to end up on any front-pages if I could help it.

...When I get back. Now there's not only a thought, but a problem and a half...

I glanced over to mom. She was calmer then we left, but the worry lines in her face were still a bit deeper than normal.

...Did I even want to go back? Sure, on one hand I had obligations back there...

I chuckled darkly, making mom shot me a worried glance.

...but on the other I also had obligations back there.

...I didn't really like it, but if I was honest with myself, then in my heart of hearts I knew...

That the answer was no. Hell no, even.

What exactly did I have to get back to there? Everypony I'd ever known, two decades and change older, no way of knowing how many of them dead and gone or here already, for all I knew.

...And few of my animal-friends would be left after this long. Mr. Bear... perhaps, but he was the only one I could think off.

No lover, no family (on that side) I cared to name left...

Even my house must be rotted to its foundations by now.

Just two animal-friends that might be better off if they have to leave the nest...

And a crown.

That had felt too heavy the first time I wore it.

I made my decision. The position had been for life... and that was in my last life. I had clearly fulfilled any such... obligations, by dying on my post trying to reason with Discord. That was the end and beginning off it.

If Celestia or Luna shows up and want to mess with me about it...

Then I'll just get one of my shotguns and shot rock-salt up their nostrils. Should show them exactly what I think about getting back on ‘my’ post.

A tension I had barely noticed since these... flashbacks had begun just lifted from my back. How easy some problems becomes, if you only stop and think them over...

Just as I reached my epiphany, we drove in on the parking lot of a church. One off those old fashioned ones that actually look the part, but I didn't recognize it and frankly didn't care much.

This was for my mother’s peace of mind, not mine. I just wanted to get going...

“What of my pizza?” I asked.

Mom made a neutral grunting sound, as she stepped out of the car.

I followed, making sure my face and wings were covered. I looked down. Even if the hooves poking out didn't give it away, the various ‘lumps’ and curves under the robe were clearly not human in origin.

I half expected somebody to shout “Demon! Run!” but I only got a few curious glances. I guess a city this size had seen one or two ponies already by now. That suited me fine. I didn't quite dare fold my hood down, but a promising start, at least.

I turned to mom, my hind-hooves making loud clopping noises when I walked over the asphalt. “Seriously, I don't want to sound like a broken record... But considering the whole potential last meal thing...”

Mom just let out a deep, long suffering, sigh. “Please? For me?”

I let out a sigh of my own, throwing my arms to the heavens in frustration. “Fine! But you owe me a meat-lovers special for this. Especially if I turn out to be a adorable hell-spawn.”

Mom raised an eyebrow, her expression somewhere in-between amused and bemused.

I pointed accusingly at her. “And a big coke and a dessert.”

Mom just chuckled, as she led the way. “Sure, sweetie.”

I leaned backwards and cracked my back. I noticed with wry amusement that how my new assets strained against the fabric of my robe, had caught a few wandering eyes...

Takes all sorts, to make a world... I thought in amusement, as I hurried after mom. I could have done better time by getting down on all fours... but I didn't want my ‘hands’ to get dirty. No telling what kind of stuff had been here, not in the middle of a city with almost a million inhabitants. I could be walking through a murder scene for all I knew.

Getting that kind of crap on the same appendages you eat with simply wasn't worth a few extra seconds. Besides, I'd practiced hard on relearning the whole biped thing. I had no intentions of wasting that work.

I skipped up the steps to the gate and beyond, pausing only a few moments to let my eyes adjust.

Yeah. I was really worried, alright...

Author's Note

Just to avoid a hundred and one comments about it.

Horses only have one stomach.

It's just meant to show that "New" Fluttershy doesn't have all the knowledge or skills of the "Old."

Chapter Six - Not So Shy, Anymore... Part Two

Chapter Six - Not So Shy, Anymore... Part Two

The inside of the church was well kept... and kinda standard to be honest. Pews, a lectern, some stained glass...

Seen one church, you've seen them all in my opinion. There was a musky smell in the air I didn't recognize though. One I felt I should, strangely enough... Weird, but what else is new? I decided to just ignore it for now.

Mom snarled at me in a motherly fashion, making a gesture at my hood. Oh, right. Heads uncovered.

I pushed it back with a deep sigh, because I knew this wouldn't end well. I took the opportunity to swivel my ears completely around and crack my neck.

If I was going to get a ton of problems from this, then at least I intended to feel comfy getting them.

I walked into the church proper with my arms folded at my back, hoping this farce would soon be over...

A short, dusky skinned man in a priests smock, and with brown hair and glasses, hurried towards us... pausing only a single step when my appearance sank in. He was old enough for a few crow’s feet and splashes of gray in his hair, but young enough that one didn't notice until you looked for such signs. “Good day, how might I help you two?” He said.

Mom bowed her head towards him, hands clasped in-front of her. “My son is in need of guidance, father.” I rolled my eyes at this. Considering that I was over Commander Broadside's passing, surly mom should be by now? The priest noticed, but made no comment. I saw his eyes sparkle with a bit of humor, however. Huh, perhaps this might not be a complete waste after all...

“She wishes to...”

I made a sweeping gesture with a hoof. “What my mother tried to say before saying a clear lie to a priest...” Mom flinched slightly, but stood her ground. The priest simply raised an eyebrow. “...is that she is worried my ‘condition’ is a divine test and has dragged me here to see from which side.”

The priests jaw just fell. It took him a couple of slack-jawed seconds, to blurt out: “Being turned into Fluttershy? A temptation from the devil?”

I snickered, as moms cheeks turned crimson. “That's just what I told her!”

Mom looked furious. “I am worried about my son’s immortal soul. Do you both truly find this a laughing matter?”

The priest looked a bit guilty, but I just sighed. “Mom, I am fairly certain that if the devil exist... then he has more class than this...” I said, sweeping a hoof over myself.

The priest nodded sagely, even as my mom turned a little pale. “I've always thought of him as more of a generations three point five fan. It is the only explanation.”

A shudder so strong it almost made me throw my robe clean of, just from the involuntary movements of my wings, swept over me. The thought of being turned into a character from that... The horror!

Mom just looked blankly at us both, but the priest suddenly seemed very interested.

“Ah,” he said, eyes once more twinkling. “So you are Princesses Fluttershy then? It is an honor, your Highness.”

He offered his hand, and continued. “I must admit, I never thought any other god then the spirit of the Almighty would grace this place. Please forgive me for not bowing. It is in the job description. The ‘no other gods before me’ thing, you know? ”

I took it, giving him a firm shake. In the background, mom's eyes were almost popping from their sockets. “Likewise... but please don't call me that. I'm just a bloke that got a mixed blessing...”

“With all due re-” the priest said, before mom exploded.

“My son is not a god!”

I was very, very tempted to levitate her up to the ceiling to make a point... Granted, not sure which point, but I was still tempted. But then I thought better of it. My mom was furious enough I could almost see the steam coming out of her nostrils.

Besides, the priest had a better response anyway. “I simply meant it in a joking manner. I meant no disrespect to you, your daughter...” His eyes darted between me and mom in a meaningful way. I shot him a smile in response. “...or the Almighty. It was simply a joke.”

Mom seemed mollified somewhat by the answer, but her shoulders were still set hard. “...Forgive me, father. But you shouldn't joke about things like that.”

He chuckled softly. “No gods before me, child. The meaning and implication of that is clear. If He did not wish us to know that there are other forces at work in the universe, He would have not told us so frankly...”

Mom paled slightly. Had that been said by anybody but a priest... Well, I think it would have been unpleasant.

“Still,” He continued, focusing on me. “I would be honored to offer guidance, if you want it.” He glared a bit at mom, who took a step back. “I have seen too many children lost from the flock because their parents where to forceful, so I shall be blunt. If she says no, then that is the end of it. Am I clear? I will personally talk with all my brothers of the cloth in this town if I have to.”

I mentally let out a low whistle. This guy? Actually sounded like he was worth the time to listen to...

I bowed my head, clasping my hooves in front of me. “Father, I will not deny that this is more for my mother’s benefit than my own... But one should honor one's elders, should one not? And she is deeply worried from this. I would not mind a confession, if you would give it...”

He froze for a moment, before inclining his own head. “Such a polite and well-spoken child...” He shot a gaze at my mother, waiting for something.

Mom blinked a few tears away. “...Yes, I... am very proud of her.”

The following squeak echoed through the entire building, making a few other visitors look up. A quiet murmur rose, as some recognized me, and others got curious...

It was only then I actually noticed that not everybody in the building was human. I guess more than mom was having something of a crisis of faith... A few were alone, but most had a human friend or relative close by.

It did amuse and worry me how I simply hadn't noticed, however. I'm fairly certain multiple species in the same place of worship should be a sight worthy of a raised eyebrow, at least...

But the scene just seemed... normal, to me. As if some part of me simply wasn’t surprised by multiple intelligent species, being side by side.

The weird feeling at not finding the scene weird weirded me out, to be honest. Then I got weirded out by the realization my mind was so twisted it was getting weirded out by not being weirded out...

Then I started getting weirded out by being weirded out from being weirded out from not being weirded out.

I quickly shot that train of thought down, before my mind started looking like an Escher painting.

A few of the ponies started fidgeting under my gaze. I didn't recognize any of them, but that hardly meant anything... even if some ‘familiar’ faces would have been welcome. I focused back on the priest. There was no reason to intrude on their moments.

...And then I was weirded out again, because it had taken it that long for my mind to register that most of the ponies were nude. What the fuck brain?

The priest was nodding sagely again. I wonder if they get lessons or if it simply comes naturally after a few years? “I normally only offer confessions on Sundays, but in these... strange times, I have made an exception. If you would just come this way...”

I followed the man, my hooves echoing loudly against the stone. Mom stayed behind.

Note to self, make some kind of moccasins, sandals, horseshoes and padded cloth-bags hybrid. This sound is making me think too much of Monty Python...

We soon reached the confessional booths. I quickly darted inside and sat on the small bench. I heard him follow suit on the other-side.

I saw a silhouette sit down on the other-side of the cloth covered window between the two booths.

“I never got your name, father,” I asked.

I could barely see the man nod through the covered mesh. “Father William Smith, a pleasure.”

I smiled. I know he couldn't see it, but still. It was nice being treated as a person, rather than a source of worries again. “Anthony Weaver. Likewise.”

I saw his head tilt slightly in puzzlement. Or as if waiting for something…

“And I don't mind the name Fluttershy, you may call me it if you wish.”

I saw the shadow nod again. “I thought as much. My wow forbids me to tell names... but I have heard similar introductions during these strange weeks. You have... memories, then? Of your time as... her, I mean?”

I nodded. “Only fragments. But they ring too true for me to dismiss them.”

He nodded back. “Your mother is troubled by this?”

“Actually, I've told her multiple times my freaky new sewing skills are thanks to my past life... But I don't think she accepts that.”

Father Smith cleared his throat. A polite way of hiding the laugh he had almost let loose, no doubt. “...The robe is your creation, then?”

Another nod. “Didn't feel like becoming a nudist and it seemed the simplest solution. It lets me move without anything getting in the way.”

He stuck a thumb out at the side off his head, pointing out. “Some of my flock have a similar problem with their new shapes and modesty, but have not found a solution yet. May I have your permission to share it? It would help many...”

“Of course, father. I wouldn't dream of keeping something like that a secret.”

I could actually hear the smile in his voice when he spoke next and the air seemed a bit... softer and lighter, if that makes sense. Weird. “You have made many people happy today, my child. I hope you recognize this fact.”

My ears flickered in embarrassment, so I quickly changed subject... Father Smith still got a chuckle in before I did, though. “Forgive me, but shouldn't we stick to the script?”

The silhouette shrugged. “It is quite clear to me that you have no want of this. It is not my place to tell you if you have need. Only you yourself can do that.”

I gave a nod, before he continued. “A sweet gesture, though. How has your mother handled this? Because frankly, she seemed far more troubled than you...”

A shudder swept me, strong enough that the faint rustling of my wings was heard even though the fabric of my robe. “...I won’t deny it, the first couple of days before I heard I wasn't alone? Hell. I thought... I might never be able to leave the house again, to be blunt.”

“...I must admit, my imagination fails me as to what it must have been like. Most of those I have spoken with had chance to at least hear about it, beforehand.”

I nodded slowly, trying not to get... flashbacks, for lack of a better word. “I... Yes, it was nasty.”

He bowed his head slightly. “...But you have accepted the changes, then?”

I let out a small but merry laugh. “Yes, I think I can live with flight and magic powers...”

Father Smith let out a low chuckle.

I pointed at the door, exaggerating the movement so he would see it. “Please, if she agrees. I think she does needs this more than I. She is convinced this is a test... Do you have any words that may discourage that notion? I fear it is starting to weigh on her.”

He nodded sagely again. “Forgive me... but on that point alone, I must agree with your mother. It is the only explanation that makes sense, to me as well...”

“Nanovirus made by an overzealous fan... Histories weirdest pandemic... Somebody stuck a Derpy plush in the large hadron collider and some beforehand unknown quantum whatsit did it by reversing the particle flow in the world’s flux-capacitors... Really? Divine will is the first explanation you come to?”

“...Reversed the particle flow in the world’s flux-capacitors?” He answered, mirth shining through his words.

I waved a hoof. “I'm a Sci-Fi fan. Techno-babble grows on you after a while.”

Father Smith just chuckled in response.

I felt his gaze, even though the cloth window. He was silent for a while, before asking in a careful voice: “If not divine will... What do you think it is?”

I suddenly thought of Discord, the self-styled god of chaos.

Bucking fuck.

“...Would you believe me, if I told you I remembered something?” I asked in a careful voice.

“...Oh, fuck. The damn season finale was true, wasn't it? Discord didn't stop at Twilight, did he?”

I slowly scraped my jaw of the floor. A small part of me amused with that it wasn't that far from metaphor. Honestly, the pony skeleton is scary flexible.

And what did he mean with that? That's not the ending I remember... or what I remember, to be blunt.

I carefully thought my answer over, as Father Smith just put a hand against his chin and waited. “...To act as devil’s advocate, it might be simply a matter of this transformation implanting memories as well...”

Father Smith snorted. “Yeah right. Forgive me, Princesses Fluttershy... But I don't think the world is that lucky.”

I fidgeted a bit, my wings getting hot and cramped under the fabric. “...Is it alright if I let my wings out while we do this?”

He barely had time to finish his nod, before I had ripped open the Velcro and stuck my wings out the slits. I gave them a good stretch. Ahhhhh...

“...Never thought I'd actually see wings on the other-side of that screen, I must admit...” He murmured softly.

I couldn't help myself and let out a giggle.

“If it isn't too private, may I ask why you hide them?” He asked softly. “Isn't being an Alicorn a great honor or something like that?”

I shrugged, flaring my wings this time while doing so. Father Smith let out an interested little hum at the sight. “One word, paparazzi. I want to stay incognito a little while longer, before the stream of crazy fans starts.”

“Ah. Fair enough... that's the only reason?”

I thought if I should tell him... but fuck it. He seemed trustworthy. That and as a priest he does have a vow of silence. “...I'm not the leader type. Show up when needed and shot a bad-guy full of lead? Sure, I can do that if needed... But the princesses thing? I... know, it is probably a hopeless thing... But I'm hoping that I won’t have to reclaim that burden. What little I remember of the first time, was bad enough.”

Father Smith had jerked slightly at the ‘Full of lead’ part, and was now sitting quite still... I just snickered at the sight. “Forgot that I'm not the Fluttershy from the show, did you?”

Father Smith started breathing again... so I couldn't resist. “Did I mention I own a gun shop?”

Father Smith froze again, but only for a moment this time. Then he chuckled. “Forgive me. I guess I... mixed up the character and her actor, so to speak? Does that comparison make sense?”

I chuckled softly in kind. “Not at all, father. But I understand what you meant and that it’s hard seeing this face and think ‘gun-nut...’ but I hope you can forgive my little joke about it?”

“Nothing to forgive, the fault was mine.”

I stretched again. This day had featured too much sitting around for my taste. “Glad to hear it... and I must admit this has been far more pleasant than I feared, but are we done? I'd like mom to be calm and get going before sundown...”

He tilted his head at me. “...Nothing you wish to confess?”

I hesitated, but he had been nothing but pleasant so far, so... “I must admit, I no longer consider myself a catholic. I wasn't exaggerating when I said that this was for my mother’s sake, not mine.”

He nodded slowly. “I am sad to hear that. Your transformation?”

I shook my head. “I actually read the bible a couple of years ago. Things like Gomorrah, the binding of Isaac... It made me question my faith. Those questions never got answers I actually believed and made me ask more questions… Well, my faith died by inches from it, to be blunt.”

“Ah. It saddens me, but that story is one I've heard before. It is a common reaction to knowledge without guidance.”

I fidgeted a bit again, I'd never actually put this into words before and it was making me slightly uncomfortable. “...To be honest, I've flirted with both agnosticism and atheism... but mostly I just... don't consider it an important part of my life, anymore.”

He tilted his head. “Your mother doesn't know?”

I let out a deep sigh. “She doesn't want to know. In her mind, I'm still her precious little boy that can do no wrong...”

We were silent for a while. Father Smith raised his hand, palm open. “You know what this is?”

“A human appendages most commonly referred to as a hand?”

He nodded. “But it is more. With this, I could both build and destroy. Create and tear down. You know what I am talking about?”

I've always had a soft spot for philosophy. I must admit, he had me, hook, line and sinker. “You are speaking in terms of power and potential?”

He nodded again, flexing his fingers in the light. “Indeed. Hands, just as these, built both the pyramids... and burned the temple of Artemis. The moon landing... and Treblinka. The Voyager probes were built, loaded and sent off by will and hands, just like these...”

He held up his other hand, his left. “The same for Fat-man and Little-boy.” He let both his hand fall. “You seem both a clever and polite young mare... Do you have a guess, as to why I am telling you this?”

It wasn't that hard. “You are trying to remind me that no matter where this new powers of mine truly comes from, that I still have my free will and should strive to use both to my best ability?”

He nodded, a pleased note to his voice. “Indeed. It does not come from the good book, but I have always found the simple wisdom of the words ‘With great power, comes great responsibility.’ very inspiring.”

My mouth twitched into a smile. “...You a Spiderman fan?”

He raised both arms in a gesture of non-commitment. “I prefer Batman, to be honest. A single man, dedicating himself to justice no matter how dark the path, staying true to his values no matter what? I think it rings true for what any man should strive for.”

“...You know, there have been more a couple of articles figuring out the numbers for how many lives would have been saved, had the Joker stayed dead when Batman shot him. Just saying.”

He waved me off. “And in real life, few mental wards have revolving doors. It's a comic. Some sacrifices of realism must be made for the story to flow.”

I hummed in agreement.

“Anyway,” Father Smith continued. “No matter the truth of how or why you got this blessing... Well, even finding a cave and not using them, is a choice. I am simply hoping to make you think this over in that light, no matter what you do chose.”

I tilted my head. “...May I ask what your answer would be, where our positions switched?”

He hummed softly, as he gave it some thought. To my amusement, I recognized the tune.

“Hush now, quiet now...” I softly sang, making him freeze slightly again. “May I compliment your taste in music?”

He laughed softly again. “...I have ponies on the mind, it seems. I honestly didn't even think about it.”

I gave my best try at a sagely nod. Not sure if I hit it, or not. “That does some to be the word of the day, doesn’t it?”

“Indeed,” He said, nodding. Making a far better try at it then I had. “But my answer... You are aware you could become something of a rallying point?”

I grunted unhappily. “A pretty little princess for people to gawk at, you mean?”

He shifted his weight uncomfortably. “...This is dangerously close to breaking my wow... but a lot of ponies have come to me recently. I can’t say an exact number, but a distressing number confided half remembered flashes of a life as the ponies they now resembled...”

“Like me.”

He nodded once more. “Like you. And among those, more than a few also confined that they couldn't help, but hope that one of the Princesses would just... come, and fix things. One way or the other...”

I suddenly felt a lump in my stomach.

“Most couldn't tell me why they felt this way. More than a few were as, if not more, troubled by the feeling itself as the implications of their metamorphosises.... And yet, they near prayed for such... intervention. Like a part of them knows that is how things should be. If that is not faith... then what is?”

I leaned my head back. So far back I felt my horn touch wood even. I just felt so damn tired suddenly.

And I made a decision. “...Know something that always bothered me about the show?”

“What?”

“Two words repeated. The horror, the horror.”

He hummed softly again. “You think it may be better if they fight their own demons?”

I throw up my arms and wings in an irritated gesture. “I'm just so damn tired of being the caretaker of dumb-asses that never learn... and I only remember bits of my old life! Most of the animals I remember learned to deal with things easier than the average pony!”

He nodded slowly. “...It is a sad lesson, but sometimes a bit of cruelty is the greatest kindness one may offer...”

I chuckled weakly, with little humor in it. “I don't think the old Fluttershy ever learned that lesson...”

“So... you feel you need to kick them out of the nest? Weather they fly... or not?”

I lowered my head and shook it. “No, I didn't say that. I think it’s more... leaving them alone long enough to make their own conclusions. I can't hide forever... but long enough that any would be followers learn to stand on their own a bit better? That, I think I can pull off...”

“...We all must find our own giant to slay... the trick is seeing the windmills before one rushes in.”

My, aren’t you well read... “You know the really sad part?”

“Yes?”

“I wouldn't actually mind being held up as exemplar... but for what I might or might not have done in a previous life? Not a chance. I see no reason to play along with that utter nonsense.”

He shrugged. “You are an Alicorn, no matter how that came to be. Many think this alike to godhood. You truly feel no temptation to use this? Not even as a way to rally the weak and needing?”

I shrugged. “I'm no saint. I simply happen to remember a life where I bowed far too many times to what others wished of me... I had my fill, to be blunt. I want this life, to be one of my making.”

When he next spoke, there was an unmasked undercurrent of amusement to it. “...You are aware, that a prophet refusing his calling is a common reaction according to the legends?”

I nodded. “Jesus, Mohammed and Buddha, among others... I've read the tales.”

“Then I shall not bore you by repeating them... but is there not a lesson there?”

I couldn't really believe what I was hearing. “...You’re encouraging me to form a new religion?”

He barked out a laugh. “I was more thinking about struggling against the force of destiny...”

“Don't believe in it. I'm in the ‘choices have consequences, nothing more’ camp.”

He was silent for a moment. “...And your cutie mark?”

I knew he couldn't see it or my smile, but I grinned anyway. “Actually... that's changed. By choices I've made as a human...”

He let out a low whistle. “Indeed?”

I nodded. “Remember my gun-nut comment? Cross-hairs over the butterflies.”

“...Really?”

“Straight over their little hearts...”

Father Smith barked out another laugh. “Well then. Isn't that a story and a half! I wish you luck in ‘bucking’ fate in the face, then... Anything more you wish to talk about?”

I shook my head. “No, but thank you, Father. I thought this would be a waste of time, but you helped me think a bit deeper about several things.”

I saw his shadow lean forward. A tiny door slid up, under the window. A business card poked out. “My card. Don't hesitate to call me if you think I have any guidance to offer. You may not be of my flock, but it is a poor Shepherd that lets the lost wander just for something like that.”

I quickly grabbed and pocketed the card. “Thank you, I just might do that.”

“No trouble. I am always glad to for-fill my calling.”

I hesitated for a moment, before deciding that the words needed to be said. “I hate to say it... But if more priest where like you, Father? Then I'd have probably kept my faith. For what it's worth, it was a pleasure to speak with you.”

He froze once more, before slowly sitting upright. “...I have seldom heard such bittersweet words... But for what it is worth, likewise Miss Fluttershy. I hope we may speak again.”

“Likewise,” I said with a smile, as I re-inserted my wings inside the robe and got out.

And almost stumbled straight into mom. She was just standing there with tears streaming down her cheeks.

Just then Father Smith stepped out and as he saw my mom, his eyes narrowed and the air grew near black around him. Wha…? “Mrs. Weaver?” You could have etched with the acid in his words. I had to stop myself from taking a step back.

Mom turned slowly to face the Priest.

“A confession is a sacred and private thing. What you just did was beyond wrong, Mrs. Weaver.” Mom flinched, both at the words and the glare that could have given mine (pre-ascension, but still) a run for its money.

Mom started wringing her hands, looking crestfallen. “...She won’t talk with me like that. I just... didn't know what else to do...”

I let out a sight and carefully closed my eyes. “That's because whenever I tell you anything you don't want to hear, you see it as a declaration of war. Or ignore it. Frankly, the last one hurts more... So I stopped being candid with you.”

I heard mom suck in a breath and tensed accordingly... but then she just let it back out again.

I heard sobbing. I opened my eyes and stepped forward, to give her a hug. She rested her head against my shoulder, but didn't stop crying.

I turned my head to Father Smith. “I realize you may want a say in this... but would you please let me and mom work this out ourselves?”

The oppressive feeling around him had faded, and he gave me a nod in response. “I can understand her, even if I don't approve. Very well, since you where the victim I will allow it.” He lowered his head to me. “Thank you again, both for letting me share the robes idea and the chance to talk. For what it's worth, I think you have the wisdom to lead... but if that is not your path, I wish you luck on whatever it may be. May we meet again.”

I gave a smile. “Likewise. And thank you, Father Smith.”

I gave the man a wave, as he walked off. It took nearly half an hour, according to the wristwatch I was still wearing, of me going “There, there...” and pating her on the back, but finally mom stopped sobbing.

…Granted, the way she was hanging from me like a funeral shroud was not much an improvement, but details...

...Yup, still best mom. No doubt about it.

“Talk with me, mom.”

She let out a sigh. Damn, sometimes you just have one of those days, don't you? “...I... thought you were at least a deist.”

“...Actually...” I began hesitatingly.

“If you claim that you don't fit that definition anymore because you know gods exist I'm grounding you.”

My heart sank. “...Then I misspoke.”

Mom let out another sad sigh. “...I did it again, didn't I?”

“...It’s a subject you find great strength and passion in and from. It is only natural you'd want to share that with me...” I said as diplomatically as I could.

“...Yeah, but it isn't anymore, is it? It’s becoming a wedge between us...”

I almost started crying myself. She just sounded so... defeated, when she said those words.

We were both silent for a while. Mom found her words first. “...You really remember... being her?”

“Told you, mom. Freaky, freaky sewing skills. And anger powered eye-beams. Do I have the best power-set, or what?”

I actually got her laughing with that one. Felt good.

“But seriously?” She asked, after the laughter had died away.

I carefully pushed my wings through the Velcro, and embraced her with them as well. She looked down briefly, but just smiled as she realized what I'd done. I smiled back. “You know I'll be your child for as long as you let me, right? And that I don't say the words ‘I love you, mom.’ just because I like the feel of them on my lips, right?”

I saw tears at the edges on her eyes... but judging from the big, goofy grin they weren’t sad tears. She leaned in and hugged me tighter. “...I'm so, so sorry. I... was so worried I... let it slip to the background... Can you forgive me?”

I bopped her light on the head with a wing. “Ow! What was that for?” She protested.

“For apologizing for staying by me while I turned into a freaking cartoon character. So you didn't exactly act completely rationally, so what? You were still there, doing your best. You really think I'd accept an apology for that?”

Mom was just still for a moment... then she hugged me so hard I heard my ribs creak. “Whatever I did to deserve you... it simply can’t have been enough.”

I thought about Nightmare Moon, Discord, Queen Chrysalis, King Sombra, The gates of Tartarus bursting open and finally... Discord again. Both what I remembered like a half forgotten dream, and what the show had shown me...

And then I leaned forward and gave my wonderful mom a hug and a nuzzle. She yelped slightly, at the sudden attention. “Likewise, mom. You’re the best damn mom I've ever had, and don't you dare forget it, OK?”

She didn't have words for that. Like it mattered, her hug tightening again said it all, anyway...

We just stood there a long while, basking in the feeling...

Then my stomach growled, breaking the spell.

Mom looked down. “...You have a tiger hidden in there?”

“Nope. Come on,” I said, leading her towards the doors with a spring in my step. “I believe somebody promised me tasty, tasty murder!”

Mom made a disgusted face, but kept up. “Do you really have to phrase it like that?”

I giggled, not caring how unmanly it sounded. “When it gets such a rise out of you...”

I stopped, mid-sentence and almost mid-step.

Every damn pony in the building except me was waiting by the exit. Father Smith was there as well, trying with some success to act as a calming presence.

I glanced around. The other humans seemed to be keeping their distance. Looking on, a bit worried looking the lot of them.

...And the damn hope burning in all their eyes almost made me wish they’d been a mob, instead.

...Well, no time like the present. I carefully tried to let go of mom's hand, but she just gripped it tighter. I turned my head to her. “Mom, I'm certain they just want to talk. Please go to the car while I deal with this?”

I carefully didn't add that that would give her a chance to get away if things turned ugly. From the worry in her eyes, I didn't need to add that part. She quickly darted off, the small crowd parting for her without fuzz.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding when I saw that. I turned to the group. Father Smith was the only one I recognized. Other than that, three pegasi, three unicorns and two earth-ponies, all looking... lost, for lack of better words.

My eyes flickered to the other humans. They looked… defensive, but not hostile. Not yet, anyway...

I turned to Father Smith. “Any pla-”

One of the unicorns stepped forward, making me lose my thread of thought. “Please,” the gray pelted and green maned stallion said, near pleading. “...we just want to ask some questions.”

“...About?” I said in a careful, neutral voice.

The spokes-‘man’ of the group sat down on his hunches, fiddling with his hooves- I noticed he was one of the ones without any clothes, and he had a rag-doll as a cutie-mark... A former toy-maker, perhaps?

Anyway, not important... “Would you please get to the point?” I tried, I really did… but I failed to keep a sharp note of irritation from my words.

He looked up and gulped. “Y-y-you're her, right? Princesses Fluttershy?”

I weighed carefully how to answer that question... Damn, is this how Celestia feels and thinks, all the time? No wonder she gets those strange joking moods... “...I have been transformed into her likeness, yes. But I'm not her. Same as you. I just got three cherries on the one-armed bandit...”

He glanced down on the wing-slits on my robe, a bit of doubt on his face... I saw no harm in it, so I let my wings slip out. I got a collective gasp from the crowd.

To my disgust a few of them even tried bowing, but I glared at them. They shoot up straight like the ground had turned into a hot skillet. “None of that foolishness, am I clear? This is America. It was founded to get away from such entitled nonsense, just in case you have forgotten. I won’t tolerate it done in my name, we clear?” I growled.

Father Smith coughed into his hand, hiding a smile... most of the ponies just gulped, however...

I felt my ears twitch as my irritation grew. “I said, are we clear?”

A chorus of “Yes, Ma'am!” rose up from the group, as Father Smith nearly bent double from restrained laughter.

...Glad one of us is finding this amusing...

I turned back to the spokesman. He looked like he wanted to be swallowed by the ground...

And he didn't seem able to take his eyes away from mine...

I relented, and closed mine with a sigh. “...Please, I've had a long day. What do you want?”

I heard the stallion gulp again. Heck, I even heard his hooves rattle against the floor.

“Say it now, or I leave. I don't have time for this.”

“...Can you change us back?”

The voice was tiny, barely a whisper. A green pegasus mare from the back, one of them that had tried bowing. The words caught in my throat, but I got them out. “...No, I can't. Sorry.”

Her sobs nearly broke my heart. I opened my eyes... This time nobody flinched, they just looked even more lost. I turned to Father Smith. “How many of these are being granted shelter by you?”

He coughed into his hands again, but looking grim. “...I believe I am not allowed to tell you that I am offering that to some of them...”

“...You and how many others?”

He shrugged. “I've put out word that this is a sanctuary. I know of a few other places, but most have been refereed here... One place, to lessen the logistics of it, you understand? We usually serve soup or sandwiches to the needing, not oats and hay. It has complicated things a bit.”

I swore under my breath and glared at the priest, but Father Smith just smiled. Tough bastard. “The one church in Albuquerque that's serving as pony shelter? That's the one mom picked on a whim?”

He just spread his arms, a barely restrained smile on his lips. “God moves in mysterious ways...”

I had to put my shaking hooves behind my back, as to not punch the man out in his own church. I hate fucking destiny.

After cooling down a bit, I carefully put my face in my hooves, rubbing my temples. “...Look, I'm just a dude that got one of everything this mess has to offer, including dick-loss. I don't know any more than any of you do. The best I could do would be the basics you’re going to get flashes of insight for about anyway, if you haven't already.”

Silence. Even the sobs had stopped. I pressed on.

“If it makes any difference... I've been like this for little more than two weeks now. You get used to it and then you start noticing the stuff you suddenly can do. Flight, magic, the whole green hooves thing. Isn't that something to look forward to?”

A hot voice I hadn't heard before suddenly said: “Easy for you to say! You got it all!”

I opened my eyes, scanning for who said that... but the whole group just flinched.

“...I came here, because my mom wanted to test if holy-ground would make me catch on fire.”

Suddenly, you could hear a pin drop again.

“Thankfully, she came to her senses. And thankfully, we managed to patch things up... And thankfully I didn't burst into flame... But she still dragged me here to see if holy-ground would make me burst into hellfire.”

Nobody would meet my gaze, not even Father Smith.

I smiled a smile so wicked that it had no place on Fluttershy's face... but it wasn't hers anymore, was it?

It was mine.

My face.

My body.

My fucking life!

Bucking fuck and fucking buck destiny!

“So yes, I did get the same as all of you. Anymore brilliant observations?”

One of the earth-ponies looked up at me, flinching a little, but looked me straight in the eye anyway. “...I'm so sorry, miss. I... didn't know.”

I closed my eyes again, letting out a deep sigh. These guys were just... lost, hoping I could do something to help. They didn't deserve me or my bad mood. “...There was no way for you to know. No apology necessary...”

I took a deep breath, and opened my eyes again.... making them flinch just from that. They slowly relaxed when they noticed I'd calmed down though. “...Look, I'm sorry. I understand. You’re just looking for answers and I'm sorry I don't have any. But I just had a bit of luck in this mess.”

Unless this is a nanovirus or something, not meant to ‘make’ Alicorns and I'm basically one giant machine-gun barrel without cooling, just waiting to overheat...

Or the ‘Fluttershy’ persona ended up overwriting me.

Either way, dead. That would be... less lucky.

The mini mob, though... seemed restless. Like they had more questions, but didn't quite have the courage...

“...Father?” I said, noting that the tough guy had actually developed a nose bled. Coincidence? Yeah right, I'm not that lucky. I pointed pointedly at my own nose.

He swiped one of his thumbs under his. He jerked slightly at the sight, but then he just chuckled. Weirdo... “...Quite the Stare you've got there...”

My ears twitched in annoyance and embarrassment, but I just cleared my throat. “Would you do me a tiny favor?”

He nodded at me.

I pointed a primary at the group. They flinched slightly, but stood firm. “It's clear there are more than a few questions for me...” I lowered the wing. The group let out a tiny sigh of relief. “...Mind if I steal one of your pews for a while?”

“Not at all...”

“Oh, and please tell mom? I don't want her to worry.”

“I can do that. No problem.”

I flashed a smile at the man. He smiled back, and then walked out.

I turned to the group. “Alright. I'm going to go sit at the front. Anybody with a question, just come up and ask, but one at a time. I leave the order to you. Any fighting and I'm walking away from this mess. Any complaints?”

A hesitant hoof went up, raised by the earth-pony that had insulted me, but apologized for it. “...Yes?”

He hesitated for just a moment, before asking. “...I... though I'd save some repetition.... You know, as a-”

I made a get on with it gesture, but made sure I had a small smile on.

His ears instantly perked up, followed by quite a few among the group. “...How come you’re walking like that?”

“A couple of reasons.” I began. “I'm not in any hurry. It keeps my front-hooves free...” I waved them in-front of me, for emphasis. “....and keeps them out of the dirt.”

I throw my arms and wings from my side in an uncaring gesture. “And it makes me look a bit more human.”

The group shot each other strange glances at the last point. Perhaps I should clarify? “I take it you wonder why?”

A few nods were my reply.

“Because I frankly still consider myself one. The important bits, anyway.” I tapped my head, and my chest. Mind and heart. I jerked my shoulders once, before letting them fall. “I thought I should look a little closer to the part.”

They started to chatter at that one. I let them. The mare that had... asked the first question raised a hoof. I nodded at her. “...You haven’t had...?”

“The flashes of…” I put my hooves up, making air-quotes. “’memory,’ you mean?”

She nodded at me, near transfixed.

“Well, who can say that they’re the real deal? And even if they are, what difference does it make?”

“...But you're one of the-” She blurted out, covering her mouth with her hooves as she realized she had acted out of line... but I just chuckled softly.

I made sure my smile was as kind as I could, before I continued. I even got down on all fours so that they would feel like I was taking down at them. I got a few interested looks, and part of me noticed I was a bit taller than average, at least in comparison... The Alicorn thing or just chance? I filled it away for later thought. “And? That kinda position is for life, right? Even if that was what even happened in a previous one... Well, see what I mean?”

The murmur started again, but it seemed to be a bit on the acknowledging side, at least...

I turned a bit, but kept my head facing them. “Well, I'm no princesses... but I don't mind helping when I can and I do have a slight ‘seniority’ in this... You guys just work out what order you want to come forth in, OK? I’ll answer any questions I can.”

I got a few nods... and smiles. I smiled back, before walking away humming.

I had to walk a bit slow so I wouldn't get my legs tangled on my robe when I was down on all fours like this, but it worked. Score one more for freaky sewing powers!

I made my way to the front and hopped up on the pew, still in four-wheel mode. I folded my legs neatly under me and waited.

I got another small ‘How weird, this doesn't feel weird.’ spiral, but I fought it down. I thought it might be better for them to see me as somepony in the same boat as them, rather than somebody in denial.

I shifted my weight a bit. Honestly, this was disturbingly comfy... but then again, I did have a bit more padding than a month ago...

My lips almost spread into a perverted grin and I had to fight down my tail from rising. I'd never been a ham-beast or anything... but looking down and seeing delicious curves? No feeling quite like it...

And I liked it.

Don't get me wrong, not having a say in acquiring them was... more than a bit disturbing.

But a part of me was more than tempted, to just... grab one of those stallions and make him take me to cloud nine, so to speak...

A frown swept over me. But it was probably more than a bit stupid to risk... that.

Mom would have kittens if I had a foal... and I'm not sure how badly the ‘out of wedlock’ thing would worsen things...

Didn't stop me from being very curious, though...

And the naked people all around weren’t helping...

I perked my ears up. Speaking of which... I raised my head a bit higher, and peaked over the backrest.

Interestingly enough, most of them were simply milling about. I guess my general answers were good enough for them...

All the pegasi were arguing about something, though. I cleared my throat. Their heads swiveled towards me near instantly.

“If you all have the same question I won’t mind. I was simply thinking about privacy...” I said, flashing a comforting smile.

They shared a single glance, before just shrugging and coming towards me. I took the opportunity to che- take a closer look at them. Two mares that seemed to be close, considering how they were almost walking side by side...

My tail and other lips twitched.

And a really cute stallion. Gray mane, looking somewhere between windswept and ‘mad scientist...’ and a pelt so white it almost shone...

Ohhhhh...!

...and he had silver eyes!

...Note to self, ask mom just how mad she'll be if I start dating like this... but that hunk is almost worth a bit more grief...

A small, small part of me was disturbed about how blasé I was being about stallions, considering I’d been a straight man last month...

The rest of me was simply very tired of feeling so hot and bothered without proper release...

The flashes of remembrance having featured far too many lonely nights in my house didn't exactly help matters.

I didn't want to make that mistake two lives in a row.

I tore my eyes of him. Now, one way or the other, this was not the time.

...No matter how much a part of me wanted to drag him to the nearest closet.

I buried all... such thing, in the back of my head as the tiny group walked up. I tried giving them my sweetest smile, but I think it looked a bit forced.

They looked at each other, before one of the mares took a step forward. She was brownish green, golden eyes and with a wild, untamed mane that was fire red with yellow streaks in it. Her build was lean and sinuous, like an arm-wrestlers and she had a sextant superimposed over a cloud as a cutie-mark. A navigator or sailor?

She reminded me of a kiwi fruit on fire, for some reason... Cute, though.

And from how she and her... mate, for lack of better word, was wearing a ring each on shoe strings around their necks I didn't even need to imagine what they were to each other before.

My smile got a bit more genuine. Or now.

She turned back to her stark-white wife, who gave her a nod of encouragement.

Her lack of color was a little freaky, to be honest. She even had white irises. You could only see them when they caught the light, and even only then because they were a bit shinier than the rest of her eyes.

Considering her color scheme and the crystal blue snowflake on her plot I was willing to bet she had been some manner of snow specialist back in Equestria.

“...We were wondering...” The flame headed one started. “...have you figured out these yet?” She flared her wings to show me what she meant.

I gave a nod. “The air is a bit too dry around here. I'd recommend asking Father Smith if he can arrange to have a humidifier put in a room. It's a really bad habit, but it makes getting off the ground the first few times easier...”

From the look of confusion, I figured I was dealing with none or small time fans, so I gave a quick rundown on what I had told mom...

...and my little accident earlier. It cheered them up immensely that even a Alicorn was having trouble adjusting.

The temporary leader blinked. “Oh, sorry.” She pointed to herself. “I'm Clear Skies slash Arnold Turner...” She pointed to her female companion, who gave me a nod and smile. “...this is my darling wife White Out slash Mrs. Anna Turner...” Called it. She then switched hoof and pointed to the hunk. He gave me a sheepish grin that made my heart flutter. “...and this is Great Scott slash...” She blinked, and turned to him. “Forgive me, but I never caught your human name...”

Scott suddenly looked more than a bit embarrassed. “...Gwendolyn Smith.” He jerked his head towards the doors. “You've met my dad.”

I gave a nod. “Anthony Weaver. You know the other one.” I got three sheepish grins for that one.

I gave him one more once over. The blush he got was just adorable. He had two gears wreathed in lightning as a cutie-mark. “You an inventor?”

He hesitated, before giving a nod... and a shake. I nodded in turn. “You were an inventor then?”

He scratched the back of his head. “...And an electrician in this life. Does that make sense?”

“Tell you what...” I said, impish grin in place. “...let me show you something.”

Then I sat up... and started to disrobe. The gulp from him and the two mares sent this delightful shiver up my spine. I was grinning like a loon when I got the robe over my head.

I noted with delight that I was being stared at. It felt wonderful. Take that, old Fluttershy!

I made no move to hide anything... but I scooted slightly to my side, showing off my plot. “How's this for a new lease on life?”

They were just transfixed by my cutie marks...

I knew I was in a church and probably shouldn't... but I fluttered my eyelids and made my voice as husky as possible. “See anything any of you like?”

I will admit, seeing three pair of wings go *fumph!* made my day. I almost lost myself and pounced, but I did manage to instead restrain myself and giggle out: “Sorry! Sorry! I really shouldn't in a church, but I just couldn’t resist!”

A mix of utter embarrassment and crushing disappointment flickered over their faces...

“Perhaps you three pretty little things would care for a drink or something, once everything has simmered down a bit?”

The only thing redder than the three ponies in front of me, was Clear Skies’ hair.

Hey, if I'm being pushed down the path to royalty, then by all things good and evil, I'm having myself a harem this time...

And my eyes drifted down. To a subtle, if somewhat eye-catching bit of movement halfway down a certain stallion...

I couldn't stop myself from licking my lips a bit.

Hung like one indeed.

Scott followed my gaze... And responded by turning one-eighty and sit down, nearly fast enough that I suspected teleportation...

But not fast enough for two certain mares not to get an eyeful. Both their jaws dropped at the sight.

I fished out the card Scot’s fa- Wait. I paused mid motion, both my robe and the card floating in my magic. “How come your father...?”

Scott turned his head, almost facing me without even rising. Oh, so deliciously flexible! “He was merrier before taking the wows. He found mom with two dogs, one woman and a bucket of lard... then he found religion.”

Scott said it in a near bored voice... but he started smirking when my cheeks caught on fire.

“...Anyway,” I said with an embarrassed cough that made all three laugh a little. “As one of three stallions here and the only one I've seen embarrassed, you want this? I'm over it, but I remember what not liking stares are like...” I unfolded the robe, making it hang in the air held only by my cyan magic.

He opened and re-closed his mouth a couple of times. Lost for words.

I giggled at him, making him blush again. “I've got more fabric at home. It's no problem.”

Granted, in the shop, not ‘home’ home. But details. He needed it more than I did.

“Er... won’t that make you...?” He stuttered out, not quite reaching eye-level with me.

I swept a hoof over the trio. “I've got a feeling clothes are going to be seen as optional for at least a part of the population from now on... Why not do some good and try it out?”

Scot hesitated again, but Clear walked over and elbowed him. “You’re not the only one that have had a involuntary sex change and is feeling weird about flaunting it due to lack of fitting clothes. Take it, or I do.”

Wordlessly, Scot extended an arm. I dropped the robe there,

Then White said, in near reverence, pointing to my chest. “...Is that...?”

I poked at the gem, noting that all their gazes had shifted to it. Even some not in the conversation, even. “To my knowledge, yup. Just appeared early morning today.”

I stroked the thing, noting with a bit of interest that the swelling was nearly gone. The fit was so good, I had to concentrate to feel where soft pelt ended and hard gem began, it was a little disconcerting, to be honest.

Jewelry shouldn't just appear from nowhere and telefrag part of you. Somehow making itself feel like a part of you? So beyond doubly so, I frankly had no words for it.

Scott broke the spell first... by whimpering.

“What's wrong?” Clear asked, worry in her voice.

Scot gulped. “This... this is... real, isn't it? Not some... hallucinogen, not some lab concoction that never should have escaped... We're really turning into ponies.”

I extended my wings and arms. Doing my best ‘angel in full glory’ impression. “Have. Not are.”

He whimpered again. The room was very quiet again.

I decided that it was time for a statement. I put the card on the pew, before I got up on both hind-hooves...

And jumped off.

Then I flew upwards, easily finding a hold this time thanks to the number of people in the room...

The swish-swish of my wings where the only sound.

They weren’t even breathing.

I flew over to, and landed on the lectern, testing slowly that it would hold. It creaked, but it did.

I hesitated, seeing mom and Father Smith standing wide-eyed in the doorway.

I fought it down. This was no time for stage fright. “Listen to me, please.”

I smiled wide, as every jaw in the building dropped. Human and pony both. Some dust drifted from the ceiling, but that was the only reaction from the building.

I'm not sure where the memory of the royal voice came from... but it did. I saw a few people scramble for cameras and phones. I made sure to smile towards them. Good. The more, the merrier.

I waited a few extra seconds, letting cameras start both record and flash.

“I know you're scared and confused,” I started, drawing in more power than I had ever before... in this life or the last. I'd noticed it before when my memories had stirred, but the land around here was near boiling with magic. I felt my mane and tail turn ethereal, like a pink cloud billowing behind me in an unseen breeze. “But just think of what you can do!”

The windows shook with my voice, as I forgot myself. A few present winced, but nobody took their awe filled eyes off me.

I carefully took my hooves from my shocked face, giving of a nervous laugh. “Sorry, I'm new at this.”

That got more than a few giggles and laughs.

I took it as a good sign. I swept my arms wide, flared my wings and gathered enough power in my horn for it to glow. The crowd sucked in a breath. “I was a gunsmith and merchant last month... and frankly, I still consider myself one.”

A murmur rose at my words. A bit unbelieving, a bit relieved, a bit mesmerized. All at once.

And so soft, it was near reverent.

“But just imagine what you may do, with your new and old insight. Do you think anybody would have done anything but shoo Anthony the gun merchant down from this improvised stage of mine?”

Another murmur, somewhat affirmative.

“Do any familiar with the...” I made air-quotes, getting another trickle of laughs. “...’show’ even think old Fluttershy would have done this without stutters and hiding behind her wings?”

Once again, an agreeing murmur rose from the crowd.

“Alloys are always stronger. Please, at least think about it. No matter how this came to be, if the memories are real or not...”

I turned slightly to my side, showing my new and improved marks. A few gasps from those that hadn't noticed before.

“...does it even matter as long as the skills and powers are?”

I turned back, my smile growing even further at the mesmerized crowd. I could get used to this part...

“Everybody here have a chance to become something more. Even those not transformed. Even if not a single skill or ability granted by this event may be replicated, we will all be stronger for it. As long as we do our best and work together...”

I gave a dramatic pause and the air pressure dropped a tiny bit, as everybody sucked in a breath again.

“...how could we not be?”

I gave a theatrical bow, as the room exploded with stomps and clapping. It made my heart soar.

I risked a glance up at my mom. She was clapping so hard her hands were white, and tears were streaming down her face again...

But considering the smile, I don't think I was in much trouble.

I jumped off as I let go off most of the power, shifting to four-wheel mode mid jump. A last second sweep of my wings made me land with only a soft thud. I levitated the card over and stuck it between my feathers, noting with glee that there were a lot of introspective faces in the crowd.

And more than my mother was crying softly.

I quickly hid my immodest grin. Not bad for an improvised speech, not bad at all...

I gave a small wave at the group of pegasi, as I walked off towards mom. They waved back, looking a bit shell shocked.

Great Scot was clutching the robe hard, a goofy grin on his face...

...and the two pretty mares, were having a very intensive whispered debate.

And all three had their wings pointing straight towards the heavens.

Gotcha.

I turned my head back, not bothering anymore to hide the grin on my face.

Gotcha all.

I barely kept myself from whistling a tune on my way out. This was way too much fun.

The last time I had this much fun it involved tequila, a barrel of rotten tomatoes, a belt of tracer rounds and a homemade mini-gun.

And this was legal! Bonus!

Mom and I didn't say a word on the way out, but I stopped in the gateway and gave a wave.

Father Smith, eyes drifting slowly between me and his son was the only one with enough presence to wave back.

But his grin was almost as big as mine.

Chapter Seven - Not So Shy, Anymore... Part Three

Chapter Seven - Not So Shy, Anymore... Part Three

Before long, mom and I were in the car.

She got in, put the key in the ignition... and just stared towards infinity. I waved a hoof in-front of her, but she barely blinked.

Oh dear. Did I break mom? “Mom, I can drive if you want...”

Slowly, as if she was making a tectonic plate impression, she turned her head towards me. Just... starring.

“Mom, get out. You’re in no shape to drive,” I told her firmly.

I reached to unbuckle myself, but she just put a hand on my hoof. I looked up and some light was back in her eyes. “...Just... what? How?”

I pointed back towards the church. “Remember the paparazzi thing? I'm betting at least one or two are uploading that little scene to YouTube as we speak. Can we take twenty questions later, mom?”

She turned towards the wheel again, put her hand on the key... and hesitated.

I swallowed a sigh. “You promise not to go directly to the tantrums, and I promise I'll be more candid. How about that?”

Her eyes blinked once, before she put on a hesitant smile. “I... can try. I'd like to, even.”

I grinned again, not caring my cheeks were starting to hurt. A day like this, ultimately? So worth it.

The resulting squeak broke the spell for mom, and she chuckled, as we left the parking-lot. I leaned back, breathing a sigh of relief.

That little scene was so worth it and so damn fun!

But I think that was enough excitement for one day. I closed my eyes... and was snoring before I knew it. That scene must have taken more out of me then I thought.

...Granted, twenty-five years is one hell of a time to get rusty skills and that is not even counting the whole half remembered dream, thing. Power will only get you so far, after all.

Before I knew it, mom was shaking me awake. I yawned and focused on her. “...Yes?”

She gave a nod towards my side of the car. I looked out... and recoiled.

Gha! Cloths store! I turned to her, and gave her my best pleading look. “Mom, do we have too?”

As answer, mom just extended her arm and a finger, before giving me a hard jab straight in the tit. That got my attention, all right...

But... “Can’t I just make something non hideous when we get home?”

Mom just rolled her eyes at me. “...Another robe, then?”

I let out the sigh to end all sighs. I could tell where this was going, may as well get something out of it... “...Tell you what? You get me a couple of spools of proper cloth of some type...” I gulped. “...and I'll make a dress. How's that sound?”

Mom pouted. “You simply don't get it, do you?”

I pointed at my naked self. “Mom, in case you've forgotten...”

She raised her hand, cutting me off mid-sentence. Her face was a little stern, but her eyes were kinder than I'd seen all day. “I don't want to put my son in a dress. I want to do something girly with my daughter...”

I winced. I knew I wasn't going to win this... but it was a matter of principle darn it! I don't do dresses! That was old Fluttershy'sidea of clothes! “...Can't we just knit together instead? Or try make up? Hell, I don't know anything about makeup...”

Please take the bait. Please take the bait. Please take the bait...

Mom let out a sharp little laugh. “And you think I know anything about makeup on fur?”

“...Dyes?” I near pleaded.

Mom started looking a bit sad. “Would it really be so bad to go clothes-shopping with your mum?”

“With you specifiable? No. The mind-bogglingly boring act that always takes forever and a day itself? Yes.”

My eyes unfocused as I got flashbacks. The endless wait. The boredom. Having to try boring and ugly piece of clothing after boring and ugly piece of clothing...

Say what you want about Rarity's obsession, at least she just took your measurements and then just let you leave.

Alright, wildcard time! “...Talking about boys?”

Mom gave me an odd look. Yes, she gave the pretty pony princess that she used to call son, an odd look. Took her long enough... “...You’re serious?”

I gulped. Here goes nothing...”...I found Father Smith's son rather... cute.”

“...The gray haired pegasus?”

I gave a sharp nod as response. My mouth was too dry for anything else.

I glance at her. Mom's face was... blank, just blank.

“...Huh,” she said, voice as neutral as her face.

...In for a penny... “...The... other two, as well. I... think I might have developed a slight... wings fetish.”

“...Huh.”

Here goes nothing... “...And turned bisexual.”

I didn't dare look at mom. I just... grabbed my hooves and curled into a ball in the seat. I'd frankly rather be standing in-front of the crowd again.

I flinched slightly as she touched me... but she just started stroking my head. I gave a little whiny of pleasure at the feeling, not really thinking about it. Her hand froze for a moment... but only for a moment. I pretended not to have noticed, instead focusing on the wonderful feel of her fingers running through my hair.

“...I guess it was foolish of me to expect you to go through this unchanged...” She stated, voice careful, but sounding more than a bit tired.

I chuckled softly, eyes still closed. “That was the worst pun ever... but I got what you meant.”

“What do y- Oh.” Mom gave a giggle, as she figured out what I meant. “I guess it was a bit clueless, huh?”

“Not to sound like I've had to many fortune cookies, mom. But life is change. The important bit is liking whoever you end up as.” I snorted. “More than a bit ironic given my circumstances, I know, but I think you know what I meant...”

“...You're actually OK with the concept of... foals?”

I shuddered slightly, making mom let out another laugh. “...More this shape and the powers...” I said slowly and carefully. “...but with the right... stallion? Sure. I think... I could imagine that.”

“...Would they be like you? The... What did you call it? Ali- something or another?”

“Alicorn. It's supposedly the material in a unicorn’s horn. I think it is supposed to be symbolic, somehow...”

I let out another whiny, as she found this wonderful spot just behind my ears. The feeling was just utterly exquisite.

“...and I honestly don't know. But I don't think so. Not without aid I sadly don't know how to give.” I continued.

“Aid?”

“Magic. Granting them whatever aspect they lack... but they might be Alicorns. I simply don't know.”

“Fair enough... So just what was that you did back there?”

“Which part?”

Mom barked out a laugh. “Would you be very irritated with me, if I asked all of it?”

“The geist? They needed something to look forward to. Some hope. I gave a speech and purred it on as thick as I could...”

I stretched, sadly moving out of reach from mom's magic fingers. I was simply too big to stay curled up as tight as that for long.

Mom's voice was suddenly a bit more forceful, but not unkind. “That's not what I asked about and you know it...”

I drew in a bit of power, making my hair dance in a wind only it could feel again. “You mean this?”

Mom sucked in a breath, before extending a trembling hand and touching my hair with it. She passed her hand through a few times, her fingers just slipping through as if it was a stream, not hair.

“Or this?” I whispered, still loud enough that it was almost a shout.

Mom just nodded absently, hand still in my hair. My giggle broke the spell, though.

She withdrew her hands, and folded them on her lap. “...And the going nude in a church thing?”

I tilted my head, scratching my chin in thought. “...I'm fairly certain it’s okay to strip there, if you do it for charity... I did give away my robe, after all.”

Mom just facepalmed at hearing that. “...Why do I have a feeling that is not scripture?”

“Come on,” I said, now serious. “Imagine being almost the lone dude in a place like that and the estrus thing and having been a girl before... He obviously needed it more then me.”

Mom looked confused. “...Estrus?”

My cheeks burned again, and I had to gulp. “You felt that… smell? I… kinda figured it out... That.... time of the year.”

“Oh.”

“I'm not certain if it’s that or month to be honest, I can't remember... but it smelled like all the mares in that place are going through it. Probably part of the transformation...”

“...Oh.”

“...To be blunt, I still feel mixed about this and I was still tempted to drag Scot into the nearest closet.”

“Oh.” Mom got a far off look in her eyes. “Why didn't you?”

I gave her an awkward smile and a blush. “I may have asked... Ehem, all three of them if they would join me for a drink one day...”

Mom leaned back, letting out a slow, careful breath. She wasn't looking at me, but she didn't seem stern either... “...I won't lie, this is... hard, for me to accept.”

My ears fell.

“...But your... happy like this?”

I put a hoof in mom's lap. She started petting it without really noticing. “...I think I could be.”

Mom was still lost in lala land. I pressed on. “I'm in no hurry with the whole... foal thing. It's a very annoying itch, but I'm on top it. I'm sure I can survive a dry spell until they make a pony edition of the pill or condoms...”

Or somepony ‘remembers’ a contraceptive spell... I thought, but didn't say. I think my mom's maximum dose of ‘weird shit’ was way past its daily maximum, already...

Mom suddenly sniffed the air, nose wrinkling. “...Ugh.” She turned to me. “Sorry dear, but now that you've mentioned it, you are a bit on the musky side, right now...”

I flashed a sheepish grin at her. “...Not really my fault. I did shower today, remember?”

I vaguely, even for the other misty memories, recalled something about using perfumes as to not olfactory scream “Take me now!” to every stallion nearby... but that was all. Nothing about types or even smells, just the vaguest of recollections...

I got a disturbing impression that part of me didn't want to remember how to hide... Well, that.

But I did remember his sheepish grin as he clutched my robe like the finest of trophies... the small flash making another tingle happen under my tail.

But did I really care? It felt... so damn good, to get those kinds of stares for one measly time in my life...

I felt a small part of me wither and die, as others bloomed, when I admitted it fully with myself.

Being the one in a relationship that gets mounted... didn't sound so bad. The opposite, even...

A soft smile came to me, as my mind drifted off...

A home, one or five wonderful caring stallions, a couple of mares on the side...

Mom made a disgusted sound, snapping me out of it. “...What?”

“...I realize this is new and... trying for you, but you’re...” She hesitated, before nodding at my seat. “...ruining the car, let’s put it like that.”

I quickly pushed my hips together, blushing like... something extremely red, OK?

Not the most expressive thought, but I was kinda distracted by how... wet, I was. To my shame and... interest, I was even sitting in a small puddle. I tried very hard to ignore the sticky, wet, hot, wonderful feeling...

I quickly started thinking about something else. Something boring like... socks.

Long, black, frilly stockings... almost covering my cutie-marks, making any stallion or mare scream wi-

I tried to swallow my embarrassment, but my cheeks were still burning. OK, I admit that was a poor choice of subject. “...Could we just go home, please? I think I need another cold shower...”

Mom was busy shaking her head, but she did start the car and pull out, muttering something about: “...My son, the canary yellow pony succubus...”

But she smiled back, when I shot her a thankful smile.

“No offense,” she said after a few kilometers. “But in a robe or... just nude is one thing, but no child of mine is going out in public nude and dripping. I'll owe you instead, OK? We'll make something at home...”

“...Sorry,” I muttered. “I’m just not used to these... urges.”

“Sweetie, you’re not the first girl that's gotten hot and bothered over a...” She drifted off, blushing.

I couldn't help myself, and smirked as I said: “Oh, I'm certain I'm not the first girl that's gotten excited over a stallion...”

Mom blushed, but pressed on. “Look, all-things considered I'm honestly relieved you’re having those kind of urges.” She shuddered, a small grimace of disgust appearing. “I can't believe I'm about to ask this... but you able to... You know, with a hoof...?”

The world was suddenly a horrible ironic hell of pure embarrassment. I think I heard something in my mind snap, and something in my cheeks turn to slag. I looked at her, pleading for mercy with my eyes... but she just had a knowing smile.

I steeled myself. I did not care to tell my mother this, but... “...I found a website for... bestiality enthusiast.”

Mom made a choking sound. I pressed on, eyes glued on the road. “With... sex-toy blueprints. I... printed one out. I'm covered on... that.”

I could feel mom poking at the subject mentally, like a tooth badly removed. It’s not there, hurts like hell, but you simply can’t stop yourself... “...Isn't your metal 3D-printer at the shop?”

I nodded weakly. “I saw the butterflies and... guessed where the wind was blowing. It seemed... prudent.” I gave a small salute. “Always prepared, right?”

I could just imagine mom's mental image of her little boy scout and... that. Payback, yes! “...And if it had been a joke?” She asked in an incredulous voice at the words passing her lips.

I shrugged. “Something to put on the mantle as a conversation object?”

Mom laughed so hard, she almost drove off the road... again. This has been one strange day, alright...

“But seriously,” she said as she fought for breath and vehicle control. “Cold metal? Up there?”

“Mom, I obviously warm it up in my hooves a bit first. I'm not that clueless about my new yogurt gun holster...”

Mom almost twitched of the road again. Is it bad, that I'm getting used to it? “...How long have you been looking to use that one in a serious conversation?”

I stuck my tongue out at her, as I gently tapped my horn. “What? You prefer dragon’s lair, considering the mythological circumstances?”

Mom harrumphed happily again, making me smile. I much preferred these types of verbal spars... “And what, is wrong with simply calling it a vagina?”

“Well, nothing wrong, per say. Just a bit boring and clinical...” I said, in a thoughtful voice that was only a little faked. “...I mean, surelysomething like raiding granny's cellar, to open my magical box, or declaring myself the queen of this castle sounds a bit more interesting...”

Mom shook her head. “I can’t believe I'm having this conversation...”

“Hey, you were just trying to have the talk again with your son, the magical pony princess...” I fought back some giggles. “Did you expect it to be normal?”

Mom let out a snort. “Alright, now you’re just being silly.”

“Oh right, forgot the part about winged unicorn of kindness, proper firearms handling and doom. Thanks mom!”

Mom tilted her head. “...Really? Firearms?”

“And dooooom.” I droned, waving my hooves in a dramatic fashion.

“I'm being serious, dare.”

I decided to humor her, and raised my arms in an uncommitted gesture. “Well, that's the kind of stuff the marks are supposed to help do and I have those shiny new cross-hairs... But even as a part of me hate to admit it, they might just be a pair of over-glorified birthmark for all I know about 'em. Could be just that.”

“...Seriously? A personalized mark that focuses...”

“Allegedly according to a kid’s show and what might be false memories...” I injected.

Mom paused while I spoke, but then just shrugged and pressed on. “...your talents...”

“Talent. Singular. Ponies are weird about that.” I once more interjected.

Mom's jaw dropped. “What.”

I made air-quotes again. “’A cutie-mark represents a pony’s special talent... The one thing their destined to do...’ “I made a gagging sound. “Personally? I call shenanigans, cultural bias and cast-system. A carefully orchestrated one...”

I gritted my teeth.

“And I only know two morons that could have pulled that off…” I growled.

The car seemed to darken at the venom in my voice at the last part. Mom gave me a worried glance. I took the hint, and carefully kept my eyes closed until I calmed down.

“...You sound mad.”

I let out a sigh, and sank back in my seat. Trying to ignore the sticky feeling and to lower my shoulders and wings. “That's because I am.”

“...Why?”

I thought over how to phrase it. Mom must have recognized one of my thoughtful modes, because I heard her make a happy little sound, before letting me think. “...Two possibility, right? No matter by whom or why... the memories are either false or true. Correct?”

“...Sure.”

“The thing is...” I sagged back, because two parts of me didn't want to admit this, out loud. The part of me that still considered itself a brony, and the nagging, ghostly and half-faded (if mostly ignored) voice, habits and memories of what I had started to consider ‘Old Fluttershy...’ But mom deserved to hear it.

“Equestria is run by two overly romantic, incompetent nags. They may be old and powerful, but I would frankly be surprised if they could find their own plots with a map, a compass and a survey team.”

I opened my eyes, as a shiver flashed down my back. I'd half expected shouts of “Gasp! Sacrilege!” or things to that effect.

...And I noticed mom was looking very interested at me.Oh, well. May as well hang for the cow, right?

“Those ‘flashbacks,’ right? They are starting to make me mad. Not just the implications, but the contents.”

Mom hummed in agreement, as she drove by one of the few other cars I'd seen on this journey. She hadn't been exaggerating about people keeping indoors.

I flashed the staring driver a grin, before continuing. “Right, here's the thing. How much have you seen of the show?”

Mom coughed once. “...I got too weirded out. Only the first two partner thing and a few after that...”

I nodded. Right, right... Seeing the creature your son's turned into have adventures and shenanigans with other similar creatures in an animated kid's show? While being… Well, Fluttershy. Can't say I blame her...

“I get it, mom. Thanks for trying,” I said, while flashing a grin. Mom smiled back, looking a bit relieved. I could encourage though, after all...

“Anyway, where was I?” I continued, resting my head on a hoof. “Right. Take Ponyville...”

“The whole kingdom of nudists thing was a bit weird, but that actually seemed a nice town...”

My eyes unfocused, as another memory got shaken loose… “...Yeah, it was…”

I stood in the shattered doorway of a near abandoned and half-rotted cottage, the stains of the last owner that underestimated the Everfree still making the place reek... but I had the dirt-cheap deed in my saddle-bag. I only needed to stop heaving and clean up... and it would be mine.

I gulped. At least Mayor Mare had told me that... no burial was needed. Those scraps were already in the ground.

...It had to be better than Cloudsdale, right? Nopony there neither cared nor understood my talent... even Dash.

Oh, she was at least supportive... But understanding was something else. Something I'd never get if I stayed in Cloudsdale.

My heart soared when I thought just how... Different this town was. There were still far, far too many ponies for my taste... but at least they understood! When I'd explained my hope and plan for the oh so kind mayor, she had even wished me luck! No “Why?” or “Seriously, what's the point? Just polite interest at a pegasus being interesting in animals!

I grinned so wide it echoed. I just might be happy here, I can tell...

I rummaged in my bags. Most of my stuff was still in Cloudsdale, but that wasn't that long a flight. I emptied what I'd brought, mostly cleaning supplies, tools for repairs and similar.

I took the enchanted crayon that would ward of animals until I could get a door and drew a simple line all around the frame. Such a simple ward would only last a day or two, but more than enough. I didn't want to use it, I'd rather just be friends with them... but considering the last owner I didn't feel like taking quite that large a chance. Not without somewhere other than the town to run to if things went wrong.

I hummed happily, as I grabbed the rags and the bottle of ammonia. Now for the disgusting bit...

“...You alright?” I vaguely heard mom say, her voice tense.

I blinked slowly, shaking my head to clear it.

Then I noticed we were beside the road again... and mom had sounded really worried. I smiled weakly at her. “Sorry, mom. Just another memory.” I poked my temple. “Anthony Weaver, still at your service.”

Mom let out a slow breath, as worry visibly faded from her like dew evaporating from a flower.

Only when she let go, did I notice she had been holding my hoof so hard I had pins and needles. “...How long was I out, this time?” I asked, as I shook the limb to get some feel back into it.

“Only a minute or two...” I mentally swore, as mom shuddered. More than enough to plow into a rock or something... or fall to the ground while airborne. At least they weren’t getting longer or anything... Mom was looking to the horizon again. “...Your eyes where... blank. Just blank. I was... worried you weren’t coming back.”

Now it was my time to shudder. I carefully took mom's hand in my hoof, giving it a small squeeze. “...Mom, I want you to promise me something.”

“Name it.” I smiled at that, but it soon faltered at the thought of... Well.

I took a deep breath, before steeling myself and looking her in her beautiful, worried, brown eyes. I put my other hoof over her hand, it and my hoof was trembling slightly. “...If that happens, can you promise me to be the world’s greatest mom to her, as well?”

Mom hesitated. She put her hand atop my right hoof and gripped it tightly. As if I might just... drift off, if she didn't.

I secretly wondered… what if the small act did just that? That and others like it. If I hadn't had such a good life, such a loving and caring family... Would I have? Just... let go and drifted off in the memories, somepony else opening their eyes for the first time in... Whatever the right time-frame is.

But I didn't say it. I just squeezed her hands a bit harder. Holding on.

My ears drooped, but I made certain my voice was soft. “If that happens, she'll be a victim just as much as I am. She didn't do this. She'll just be a lonely, terrified and confused girl, needing help... Please, for my sake?”

Mom closed her eyes, and was silent for so long I almost wondered if she had fallen asleep. “...I... don't think I could call... her, my daughter. It would hurt too much...”

My lip quivered, and my heart sank at the words.

“...but... granddaughter? That... I could do. For you.”

My ears folded back up, as I started crying happily and pulled her into a hug. “You tease.”

“I meant every damn word. In that order.” she said voice so adamant I almost felt the words in the air.

I thought of making a ‘witty’ comment... But I felt wetness against my neck and remained silent.

There's a time and place for just letting a moment linger, after all.

Before long, we sank back into our seats and were on our way in silence. I just... didn't have anything to add, at the moment and it seemed mom was in a similar frame of mind.

It was only then I noticed my hair was still doing its impression of a hybrid between seaweed and cotton-candy. I was barely noticing I was doing it. It was like... breathing almost, but instead of a burning uncomfortable feeling if I didn't, I simply didn't have that power. It felt... weird, but nice. Like a warm water-bottle in your pocket, but for my whole body.

I studied it in the mirror for a while. It was a beautiful display... and clearly neither normal, nor even operating under physics as I knew them.

...Granted, I'd done a few displays of my own for gun-shows and could have probably faked it with the right and expensive hologram equipment...

But the knowledge that ‘Yup. That's my hair.’ just... drove it home.

I thought of something from the first two episodes and moved a strand experimentally. Just folding and unfolding it. No idea how, but it seemed... natural, somehow. Like moving any other limb. As soon as I let go, it went back to weaving in the breeze that touched only it.

I really wasn't human anymore. Bloody hell, I might not be mortal anymore.

I should have been running screaming, laughing and crying in the streets, all at once...

But somehow, I was just simply... OK, with the whole concept and thing. Perhaps I had only grasped this intellectually so far? Perhaps... I did feel quite drained emotionally, but after such a roller-coaster of a day after these strange two weeks... Can anybody blame me?

And then I noticed that it wasn't pure pink. Not when like this. Every-once in awhile it got this... golden shimmer. Like god-rays during the heights of summer.

And these tiny gleaming sparks of light flashed erratically. They reminded me of something, but it took me almost a half-hour of staring before I could place it.

Like light reflexes on a scope far, far away.

I let out a low whistle as it clicked. Nature... and weapons. Did that mean I had become...

The Alicorn of the Hunt?

I hummed slightly, as I thought it over. One heck of a title, I'll grant it that...

“...What are you thinking?” Mom asked, sounding interested.

“Just thinking about my marks and what they might mean. I'm wondering just...” I paused, thinking about how I should phrase it. “...if the idea of... past life coming back is true, then what has Fluttershy become? What would she think of me?”

Mom chuckled softly, looking happy. “You and your philosophic moods...”

“But I'm serious. Fluttershy cared for animals of all kinds her whole life...”

“According to a TV-show and what might be false memories caused by a medical condition...” Mom interjected, taking on the (so deliciously ironic) role of Devil's Advocate.

I let out a laugh, before continuing. “...and I'm a, if you excuse the dramatics, a death-dealer. Some contrast, right?”

Mom bopped me lightly on the arm, not taking her eyes off the road. “You make much needed tools for feeding people, weapons for defense and works of art. If stupid people misuse them, then that is no fault of yours.”

Mom laughed, as my cheeks squeaked again. “Thanks. I was just being dramatic, but it was nice to hear that.”

“Anytime.”

“...Anyway...” I continued after flashing her another smile. “That's her. How would everypony else react, if you follow what I mean?”

“What? You mean if my son really is one of the long lost princesses of ‘The Magical Kingdom of Equestria?’” Mom countered, voice dripping sarcasm.

“Humor me. The philosophy and thought experiment is interesting, if nothing else...”

“So, in that case miss ‘bacon, bacon, bacon...’”

...Huh, good point.

I rifled through my memories. “...I think they had a small scene in the fourth season, the second galloping gala one...”

“…The thing Twilight got tickets for?” Mom sounded a bit confused. Both at that she was actually saying the words, and the question itself.

“Think the Oscars in prestige, but a ball. Dancing, music, food... Stuff like that.” I explained absentmindedly. “Trust me, duller than it sounds.”

Mom gave a tiny nod, looking a bit impressed. “...You have memories from one?”

“I really wish I hadn't...” I said, as an image of being asked for dance after dance by spoiled nobles flashed through my mind...

I shuddered. No wonder Fluttershy had been so keen on the garden. It had only gotten worse after the whole princesses thing...”Anyway, my point was that...” A thought struck me. “You mind if I use the characters names? I can say ‘a pony’ and similar, if it makes you uncomfortable...”

Mom smiled, a bit strained, but still a smile. “For good or ill, false or true... this is a part of you now. Go on, I won't mind. Tell your story.”

A wave of relief flooded over me. “You’re the best mom ever, you know that?”

She smiled smugly. “So I've been told...”

I continued, smiling myself. “Anyway... You know those weird regional delicacies you have to be mad, a tourist or worse, local, to like?” Mom nodded. “Like that. That's the pony opinion on meat...”

“In the show.”

I snorted. “Yes, yes.... And if anyone objects, they can have me stop eating ham, bacon and steak when they pry the knife and fork out of my cold, dead hooves...”

I had to slurp some drool at the thought. It was awhile since I had any meat...

Speaking of food...” Mom interrupted. “...How is the... feed working?”

I made grimace of disgust. “Like health muesli, but less taste. It’s kinda nice and crunchy but it just so bland. I get that we can’t exactly get enough fruit and veg considering the shortage thanks to this pony thing...”

Mom gave me a kind, but resolute gaze. “I'm not risking finding you dead in your bed from an allergic reaction, just because you felt like eating cheese before we know you can. Sorry, but I'm putting my foot down on this.”

“Fine, fine…” I grumbled. “But if I ‘remember’ a food, or find it in the show...”

“Then you can shave a square on your hoof and rub a little on your skin. If that works, then you can eat a little.”

I coughed, as the image of a shaved pony flashed through my mind. “You do realize I'm not a pony in the animal sense, right? Those ponies are more like...” I thought if I should finish my sentence or not, but honesty won out. “...Well, to be blunt, an orangutan to you.”

Mom sucked in a breath. I wondered if I had gone too far, but she just let it out again. “...There's no evidence these changes are genetic yet, you...”

I interrupted that nonsense. “Mom, I'm the drunken one-night stand mix of a tiny horse, a narwhal and a chicken so warped by something I can fly with these tiny wings. I... don't think there's much left of the old me, not like that...”

We drove in silence for a while after that. Mom broke it first. “...If there was a way...?” She kept her voice neutral, but there was a uncertain undertone to it.

“To turn back, you mean? To be human again?” Mom nodded. I thought it over.

I was still thinking when we reached home. Mom turned the car off, but didn't get out. She just... turned, and looked at me. Waiting for my answer.

“...You do realize that this shape is not only capable of flight and psychic powers slash magic, but might be undying, as well?” I carefully inquired.

Mom nodded slowly. “I know it's a hard question. But I still want your answer.”

There was nothing accusing in her voice, just worry and curiosity. “...Can you get me a towel or something while I think? I think showing my twat in... That state, for one relative is one to many for one day...”

Mom reached forward, and gave me a pat on the shoulder. “Tell you what? Why don't you tell me when you have the answer?”

I could hear the undercurrent of doubt, the one screaming: “Or when you trust me with the answer.”

“Well, I can say one thing right now...” I almost chuckled, as mom's eyes lit up, but I fought it down. “If things continue like this, and I have all my old memories and skills, I just get some more showed in my skull from somewhere, wherever that turns out to be?”

Mom nodded, as I braced myself for her reaction. “Then I don't see any reason to turn back. Sorry, mom.”

To my surprise, mom actually smiled at that. It must have been plain I was beyond confused, because she just reached out and patted me again. “...Dafuq?”

Mom laughed, before she answered. “...You've always been your fathers’ son in things like this. Making things work and work well, worrying about the spiritual later, if ever...”

She gently poked one of my wings, smiling. “Wanna guess my thoughts on this?”

My jaw dropped, as mom giggled. “...Seriously?”

“Well, you’re no ever spinning wheels nestled inside each-other, rimmed with eyes, I'll grant that much...” Mom suddenly got serious. “But what I saw today, even if it was thanks do to my folly?”

...Seriously, she remembers that but not the horrible stupidity of Leviticus? “...Yes?”

Mom made her voice as dark as she could, raising it just short of a shout. “’Sorry, I'm new at this.’” She cleared her throat, before continuing. “...That was... Well, you, Anthony. So you, I almost ran up and gave you a hug on the spot.”

She took my hoof, cradling it in both hands. I just... didn't know what to say, so I waited for her to continue. “...And yet, it was not.” She raised one hand, and drew her fingers through my hair. “Not in the flesh.”

I finally found my words. “...You seriously think I'm a... angel? Don't get me wrong, it is an improvement, but...”

Mom put a finger to my lips, silencing me. “I try not to ruin your moments.”

I almost rolled my eyes, but I relented. Fine. Her thinking that was weird, but better than finding holy water in my food, or something. Out loud I just said “Fine, continue.” as she removed her finger.

She smiled, before doing so. “...You gave hope to many today, by acting with grace and dignity. Am I so wrong, to think you did God's work today?”

And by using dread powers that may or may not be slowly killing me... but details.

Mom's eyes narrowed. Fucking parent based telepathy. Gets you every time. “Fine miss critic. Why did you do it?”

“...Because it was the neighborly thing to do? It cost me little but some cloth and words, and it might make everyone in that room and beyond sleep better, tonight?” I mean, seriously... My eyes narrowed a bit. “I'm going to be blunt, mom. I think the implication a bit insulting that just because I committed an act of altruism, it must be a divine miracle...”

Mom actually laughed a little at that one. It made me feel a bit better about the whole mess. Her eyes twinkled, as she spoke again. “Father Smith said that... Fluttershy was the Princesses of Kindness, right?”

Where was she going with this? “...Yes.”

Mom gave a dry laugh, as she got out of the car. “Everybody always remember the sins, never the virtues... Can you list them, for me? Your interest in the spiritual has always been a joy to me, even if it lead you astray in the end.”

I ignored the comment about my faith. “Fine. Humility, Chastity, Temperance, Diligence, Charity. Patience and...”

My mind went blank. Mom just smiled again. “...Son of a b-”

“Language!” Mom snapped, but the smile was still in place. “And yes, to offer charity, compassion and friendship, without any sake but its own... Is that not...?”

I gave mom a glare, but my heart wasn't in it. She didn't even flinch. “Say it. You know you want to...”

“Is that not Kindness?”

I resisted the urge to gently bang my head against the glove-compartment. I'd ruined enough of my parents stuff for one day. I gently leaned back, and put my hooves over my face instead. “...I just can't escape it, can I? I'm going to end up on some horribly uncomfortable throne, listening to morons, wearing ugly and heavy jewelry,all while I could be doing stuff... Again.”

Mom gave of a giggle. “One day, I think I want to hear just how much you remember, no matter the source... But now, I think we've dwelt enough on this for one day. Wait here, I'll go get that towel.”

I started to get out anyway. “...Look, I'll just keep my tail down. I really need so just...”

Mom leaned in and put a hand on the seat-belt release. “It will only take a moment, just wait.”

I leaned back, resigned to it. I still unbuckled and stretched a bit, but I made a sweeping gesture toward the door to our house, as I did so. Mom just smiled and nodded, before she got going.

I took the time to just... look at it. Nothing special, just another one of the one story buildings with a simple steel roof that were so common around here. The only thing a bit odd was that it was brick and mortar instead of wood. It was usually too hot, too cramped...

And it was home. A home I'd dreaded I might not be welcomed to again, or even see again, when this... mess started.

For just a moment, an image of a pegasi cloud house was superimposed over it. Columns, a few urns, a rainbow fall... Strange to think of sculpted clouds as ‘typical,’ but it too had been, but for Cloudsdale.

That place had been too cold and empty, instead...

My thoughts of home were interrupted as the front-door flew open. I barely had time to react, before my door was yankedopen hard by a broad shouldered man with black hair, a lumberjack beard and furious looking green eyes, dressed in half of a four-piece suit.

He looked as he had been crying. “Hi, Mark. Something wrong?” I asked.

I barely got the Hi out properly, before my big teddy-bear of a big brother just reached in, grabbed me in a hug and gave me a squeeze... then he sank down still outside the car and started wailing. Me still along for the ride.

Now, my brother is one of those great big mountains of a man that looks like he can juggle trailers for a laugh, but would have to be coursed to swat a fly.

Even I have a hard time remembering he's a lawyer, sometimes.

But he wasn't this sensitive. Not usually. I pushed a bit, looking him in the eye. “Mark, what's wrong? Did something happen?”

It took a while, as well as curious stares from the neighbors and mom looking worried and sheepish in the background, but he managed to sob it out after a while.

He'd heard the whole confession thing, seen mom drag me out so fast that I hit my head on the door frame...

And far too many hours later... mom had walked in alone.

I gave him an extra hard hug after he got that bit across. “I’m so sorry, Mark. I just had a clothes malfunction. I'm alright. Mom just went in to get a towel...”

Mark glared back at mom, who held up an example of the item in question as combined shield and peace-offering. He turned back, still looking wretched, but a bit better. “...Please don't scare me like that.”

I pulled him in, giving him a few more pats for good measure. “I have no intention to.”

“You better.” He growled, but I just laughed.

I grinned cheekily. “What? Feeling that protective of your little sis, are we?”

He just snorted. “You’re the one with the arsenal, not me.”

My eyes drifted down to my hips. “...That I am.” I looked up, as I decoupled from the embrace. Making sure to stand on all fours not to offer a complete show of my privates. “Shall we? I didn't get any lunch. I'm starving.”

Mark put his broad hands at his sides, and gave mom another glare. “Just where did you drag her?”

“Albuquerque,” I answered, making him blink and refocus on me. ”but I met a priest that wasn't all talk, his cute son and even reached an understanding with mom, so it was not that bad a road-trip...”

“...Huh.” He scratched his head. “...His cute son?”

I grinned. “And two hot mares!” I fished out the card from my wings. “Granted, it was by proxy, but you could say I got their number...”

Mark was just shaking his head, lips pursed and arms crossed. “...You turn into a female cartoon character and you still get more action than me. Life just isn’t fair, is it?”

I just couldn't resist. “Well, there were a lot of young eager mares at that ch-” I got interrupted, as the towel mom had thrown wrapped around my face. I got it off with as much dignity I could muster, before making a turnaround gesture at my grinning brother. He complied, and I quickly had the thing wrapped around my midsection.

And honestly? It didn't look that bad. The material was a joke, of course, but it cowered what it should and didn't feel half bad, either...

Perhaps I should think a little harder on my ‘No dresses, ever!’ rule...

Mark pointed a finger (Of Doom!) at mom, just stating. “I've made Chili Con Carne. Unless Anthony says otherwise, she will get to eat off it.”

Mom let out a sigh, but just walked indoors. I felt a bit guilty... “She's just worried, you know?”

Mark snorted. “That's no reason to feed you those pellets.”

I decided to meet the two warring parties halfway. “Fine, but can I borrow you razor?”

He just turned, and looked at me like I’d grown more limbs. “...Why?”

I explained the test mom wanted me to do. Mark just nodded, as we made our way inside.

And a thought came to me, as I more or less fell on the couch in the living room. “Say, can I get a bowl, as well?”

“...Why?”

I grinned at him. “Just a small surprise. I think you and mom might like it.”

Mark shrugged, before wandering off to get the stuff. I took the moment to just... bask in the sun-ray that hit the couch at this time of day. There was just something calming in that feel of warm fur and gentle, but strong energies playing along my pelt.

And then I got another idea. “Hey, Mark!”

“What!” He shouted from the kitchen.

“Can you get me another bowl, one with water?!”

“Cold or warm?!”

I noticed that I was quite thirsty, now that I thought about it. It had been a couple of hours... “...One of each, if it isn't too much trouble!”

“OK!”

“Thanks!”

“Can you two stop shouting?!” Mom interrupted with, from the other side of the house.

My impish side just couldn't help it. “Fine. I'll just talk, instead.”

I heard a muttering of something along the line of: “...Oh Lord, give me strength...”

Mark gave me a odd look, as he came in with the plastic bowls balanced in his arms. “...You've figured out the royal voice?”

I grinned at him. “Yes. I have figured out the royal voice. It is awesome.”

His hair billowed back a bit at the last word, but he just grinned as he put the bowls down on the table. “A hundred bucks if you say ‘Yay.’ like that and I get to film it.”

I stuck my tongue out at him. “What? No Fus-Ro-Dah joke? You have no style, dear brother...”

Mark tilted his head at me. “...Huh. So that's why you were freaking obsessed with that game...”

“Oh, please. It's a great game. My having turned into best pony has nothing to do with it...”

“One thousand hours great?”

I rolled my eyes, not bothering to correct the much higher number. “I'm sorry, did mister ‘I can recite the Phoenix Wright series in my sleep,’ say something?”

Before Mark could make a (oh, so obvious) ‘Hold it!’ joke, mom's voice rang out. “Anthony, I understand you have a new toy and want to drive every one of the neighbors insane, but please? I've gotten a headache from all the excitement and driving today...”

“So-” I quickly fixed my slip, as Mark nearly doubled over with laughter. “I meant to say, sorry, mom. We’ll be quiet.”

Mom murmured something from the master bedroom, but I didn't hear what.

Mark was looking between me and the bowls with great interest, though. “So, you intend to give the laws of nature the finger again?”

I hummed happily in confirmation, as I floated over the bowl with warm water. “I still don't know about these ‘flashbacks’, but according to them a certain pegasus had an internship at the weather factory, while trying to get her cutie mark...”

“No way!”

Mom snarled something. Mark clamped a fist over his mouth.

His grin was still clearly visible.

I chuckled, as I sat up on my haunches and started kneading the water with my wings, pouring energy into it. His eyes grew to nearly... Well, pony size, as he saw the white streaks forming in the water and guessed what I was doing. He sank down next to me, just watching me work.

“...How long have you...?” He asked, nearly reverent.

“Yesterday. But mom was on the warpath...” That mom had had a mixed reaction to my transformation was an understatement, but at least things seemed to have finally turned around.

Mark just shook his head. “There are labs chiefs that would kill their first-born in your name to just see this. Don't get me wrong, I love mom, but sometimes I just don't get her, you know?”

I nodded absently, as I continued to knead. “Not that hard, if you think about it. We both take after dad...”

“He called, by the way.”

I stopped temporarily, making some water-vapor rise free from the constraints of my magic, but I snatched it with a wing and re-added it to the mix. “...How is he?”

Mark patted me on the shoulder, almost making me break my concentration. “He's finally gotten emergency leave from the pipeline. He should be here sometimes tomorrow.”

I nodded absently. Dad is an engineer. A damn good one, and worked in the oil industry mostly. At the moment he was overseeing maintenance of the Keystone Pipeline up in Canada.

Good pay, but it kept him away for long periods. I usually didn't mind, but...

Well, it would have been nice to have had him here during the crisis... “So, what then? Has this reached such critical mass his superiors actually took his word on ‘My son is now my pony daughter, I need to go home?’”

Mark scratched his chin. “...Don't know what and how much he told them, to be honest. I guess that could be it?”

I let out a sigh, still kneading. The water in the bowl was almost completely white now.

“...Shouldn't it be rising and expanding?”

“I'm keeping it compressed,” I said only a bit smugly, as I poured the last burst of magic into the mix. I kept a wing on the bowl to continue to keep it in. ”Once I let go of this... Poof. Instant cloud.”

Mark had his hands clutched under his chin, eyes still enormous. “Coooool.”

Now... Here, and ‘herd’ it there, or in my bedroom? Choices, choices...

Mark must have guessed at my thoughts. “Do it here. Easier to clean the floor when it evaporates.”

“Actually,” I stated. “If I “remember” correctly, I should be able to just maintain this little beauty with some TLC. It's going to make it a lot more humid in here, however... Perhaps outside would be wiser?”

He patted me on the head. I wasn't sure if I should growl or coo, to be honest. It felt nice, but he had clearly meant it as a light insult... “You’re the magical pony princess. Do what you think best.”

“Outside it is then...” I carefully cradled the bowl in a wing, and started walking on all fours towards the backdoor. I didn't want to be distracted by the added task of keeping balance on my back-legs, and it seemed stupid to have a sign screaming ‘Look! Look! There's a pegasus in this building!’ out front.

So out back I went, Mark sauntering along behind me humming eagerly as he awaited my ‘next trick.’

There wasn't much out back. A few trees (and the corpse of one more...), an old swing-set we really should have gotten rid of years ago, some grass, a high fence... That's about it, really. A good place to feel the breeze without getting stared at (even more so now, in my case) but nothing special.

I did note with interest that it seemed to be getting slowly greener though. The grass was a bit not only taller, but the blades where even wider. (And looked disturbingly juicy to my new eyes. I hadn't tried it.) The leaves on the trees seemed a bit lusher, and so on. I hadn't even tried any of that specificity, but my mare (bada boom, tish!) presence seemed to be aiding the greenery in the place.

She hadn't said so, but I think that was one of the things that had worried mom. People that turn into strange things aren’t supposed to grace the world with their presence.

I think she would have had an easier time dealing with me blighting the place, to be blunt. It would have fit her worldview better.

...Still, she seemed to be dealing with it now. No sense dwelling.

I finished actually entering the garden, sitting down in its center. I turned smiling at Mark. “You ready for weird shit?”

“Always,” he chuckled, getting his phone out.

I frowned a bit at that. “...I don't mind you taking pics, but you’re not uploading them, right? I don't want every creep to know about this...”

He held up his palms at me. “Only for the photo-album, I promise...” A grin split his beard. “And for blackmail, of course.”

I rolled my eyes at the ‘joke.’ “Fine, fine... Ready?”

He nodded.

I put the bowl down, let go... and galloped for it. Mark flinched at my sudden burst of speed, and I almost lost my towel. Ford Prefect would have not approved.

Still, he relaxed, as I came to a sudden stop beside him. “...Seriously?”

I hushed him, waving at the bowl. He took the hint.

At first... surprise, nothing happened. But I felt the energies starting to fade, as they did their thing.

A wet, wheezing sound, a white fluffy but mostly silent slow-mo explosion...

And I had my cloud. It wasn't that big, a bit larger then one of those novelty beach-balls, nothing more.

Mark's jaw dropped, and I had to catch his cell with TK as it tumbled from his fingers. I quickly spun it around and took a pic, the click breaking his fugue state. He grinned, before snatching his phone back from my magic aura. “Alright, no jokes. That was really damn cool, sis.”

He chuckled, as I squeaked at the compliment.

He swept an arm towards it, waving his cell with the other. “Wanna pose on your creation?”

Oh, that wasn't half bad an idea... “Sounds fun, but I want a copy.”

He started nodding, only to gasp and almost re-dropping his cell, as I jumped off and flew over to the cloud. I had to use a lot of energy out here in the open, but it was hardly a long flight.

I didn't sit down, not yet.

My smug grin at the sight of his dropped jaw was so wide it almost made my head fall off.

That made him find his voice. “You can fly? Since when?”

“Remember those thumping sounds? Practice makes perfect...” I gave a couple of extra pushes with my wing, zooming a couple of laps around him just to show off.

He didn't even try to swivel around and follow me, he just grinned as I had my fun. “I must admit, I was really worried when this started... but I'm honestly starting to feel a bit jealous.”

I finally finished my fly by, and settled on the cloud. It felt... kinda nice, if a bit too cold for my tastes. (And teats. My nipples did not care for the sensation. Let us put it like that.) But quite soft and fluffy. I reshaped it a bit, making myself comfortable. It was kinda like sitting on a pile of cotton that had been in a freezer. Soft, but with some yield and I could imagine it must be heavenly on warm nights.

Couldn't imagine sleeping on it all the time, though. I think I prefer the more solid and warmer feel of a proper mattress.

I nodded at Mark, as I settled down on the now flat cloud disk. “I must admit, for a Kafka style crisis this has some nice side benefits...”

Mark just shook his head, looking bemused. “My former brother, now sister said, as she sat on the cloud she made...”

I flared my wings, straightened my neck and gave him my smiling profile. “Just take the photo.”

Mark grinned again, but started doing his best Austin Powers impression. Thankfully without any shouts of ‘Oh, baby!’

It actually took a while, but he finally finished. “There. Now I'm no photographer, but if one of these doesn’t make the Christmas cards this year I'm eating my boxers.”

“Oh, gimme!” I reached a hoof out, beckoning him over.

He complied. I started looking through the pics while he amused himself by going “Oh! Ah!” at passing his hand through the cloud...

“You know,” I muttered. “That there's a name for ground-bound clouds, right?”

He rolled his eyes at that. “Yeah, so? How often do we get fog? Besides, this is magical super fog, made by my sis the Alicorn. I think I'm entitled to being a bit impressed.”

I murmured an agreement. If he wanted to think I'm awesome... Well, I saw no point in changing that impression.

I continued checking the photos, he continues passing his hands through the mist.

And they were actually pretty good. There were a few of the new me drooling on the couch while sleeping and sprawled in a boneless heap while relearning how to walk, that I felt a bit indignant about, but they were so adorable I couldn't help but see why he had snapped them.

I hid the image of him showing the world his tonsils in a subfolder for later. Besides, I had something on him...

The ones off me on this cloud, though? My, my, my. Even with this horribly clashing blue towel around my waist... Proud wings flared, as if I could claim the sky at any moment... My ethereal mane billowing... A smile on cute lips that was downright adorable in its own right...

Hell, I'd do me.

“You know,” I said, as I handed the thing back. “You should save those until next time there's one of those local photo contests. I think some of those pics could have a shot.”

He laughed a bit, inclining his head towards the house. “I think somebody else thinks the sight is impressive...”

I looked at what he was referring to. Mom was standing in one of the windows, smiling. I gave a small wave that she returned, before walking out of sight.

Mark gave me a cunning look. “So... I take it she's reclassified who she thinks has given you this?”

I groaned, before jumping off. “Don't remind me.”

Mark just walked through the cloud, arms outstretched and going: “Weeeeee!”

An idea came to me. Something I remembered from the same set of flashbacks. “Hey, Mark?”

He stopped in the middle of the cloud. Only his head and legs were poking out. “...Yes?”

“Walk out for a sec.”

He did so without hesitation. “...Sure, why?”

I lowered my horn at him, making him gulp softly. “Hold still, this should only tingle a bit...”

“You sure that's safe on humans?” He quickly countered, backing off a step.

I just snorted. “Who just ran screaming ‘Weee!’ through a magically created cloud? Hate to break it to you, but if magic is that kind of dangerous then...” I stumbled on the words for a moment, but pressed on. “...Well, then I'm a walking, talking Chernobyl. Don't you want to have the good as well, just in case?”

I nodded at the verdant plants. “But considering the side-effects so far, I kinda doubt it.”

Mark hummed thoughtfully, now at ease. “...How about you lift my hand with your telekinesis first? It’s a bit less... full-body, then the spell I think you were going to pull on me.”

“Oh, good idea!” I quickly did so, raising his hand gently into the air. He looked very interestedly on the cyan nimbus.

“...You know?” He said, slow and thoughtful, flexing his hand in the field that held it up. “I'm glad I trust you, because it feels like you could just yank me skyward, even like this...” He grunted and did a one-armed pull up. I had to feed a bit more power to it, but my spell held. “...Yup, you can lift my body-weight without even breaking a sweat. I won't lie, that's kinda scary, sis.”

I grinned at him as I let go. “Well, I'm hardly the standard model...”

He nodded, as he cracked his knuckles. “Just careful who you show that kind of thing to. I realize it might be strange to think about, but you basically have a combined multi-tool, a gravity-gun and unlicensed auto-cannon strapped to your forehead. People might get... weird, about that.”

“Bha!” I said holding out a hoof. His eyes lit up as he got it and bumped knuckles with my hoof. “You have my back...”

“...And I'll have yours. Sure.” He said as he grinned, as I grinned back.

I felt giddy at that. It just felt... really damn nice, knowing my family was still on my side. “Besides, I've got all these nasty little things that need fingers to use properly stashed away... Surely that's an equalizer?”

Mark shuddered, drawing his arms around himself despite the heat. “I really hope it doesn’t come to that...”

My mood fell. “You’re the lawyer, but I'm fairly certain that legally right now I'm the family pet. I... won’t go easy, if some bastard tried to do something with that...”

Mark walked over and gave me a hug. I hugged back. “...I'm not sure, but I've heard some rumors from people I trust, that the UN is gathering together for an emergency summit...”

I blinked up at him. “...What?”

He nodded. “To bolt some emergency rules to the Declaration of Human rights and pressure the nations into signing laws to... Well, avoid that kind of nastiness... That's the rumor, at least.”

I let go, grinning. “Well, finally some good news then.”

Mark folded down on the ground, giving me an inquiring look. “...So, what are you going to do if they have some compromise along the lines of the Mutant Registration act from X-men?”

I sat down as well, moving and flattening the cloud with my TK as to give us some shade.

Mark just shook his head at the sight. “...You just used your magic, to move the cloud you made... To block the sun?”

“Would you prefer...” I said raising my arms in front of me, opening my eyes wide. “Ex-terminate! Ex-terminate!”

Mark shuddered, before giving me a light glare. “No offense, brother.But given the circumstances?” He slowly shook his head, expression grim.

I scratched the back of my head, and gave him a sheepish smile. “Just a tad too creepy?”

“No. You don't say?” His face softened, and he pointed up. “Anyway, seriously?”

I waved a hoof and wing in the air, just to emphasis. “If you got it...” I got a bit more serious. “Besides, you know the average politician. It's probably only a matter of time before you need licenses up the wazoo...” I pointed at the cloud myself with a wing. “Even for something like that.”

For all his talk, it amused me when he scooted over into the shade and lay down. I decided to be the bigger man, and let it pass without comment. “Fine. But shouldn't there be some?” He said.

I snorted. “You’re talking to a gunsmith, remember? I'm more than aware that if you hand some people a starter gun, they will find some way to blow their nipples off...”

“No offense, but being able to lift a man high-enough to let go once, if you know what I mean, is a bit different...”

I sank down completely on my stomach, following my brother's example in spirit, if not letter. It was kinda comforting after a day like this, to just lie down and shoot the breeze about current events...

Although I was getting a bit fed up with the ‘pony, pony, pony’ aspect of the conversations.

Granted, it was kinda understandable, but it gets old, you know?

Still, this was my brother, not some random goon. He deserved answers. “Look, your average unicorn has... Well, remember Rarity pre-ascension?”

A smug look came over Mark, as he started to sing. “Thread by thread! Stitching it together!” He suddenly looked serious again. “The repeatedly hinted to be somewhat average magic vise unicorn, that could still make her studio filled with sharp things dance, you mean?”

With rising dread, I started realizing Mark had something of a point. It only takes one asshole to ruin things for the rest of us. “...Fine, I see what you mean... but that doesn’t change that for most we're talking mostly invisible hands and a couple of tricks on the side... And mostly on the practical side, not the ‘make heads explode’ one.”

Mark put his hands under his head. “You know, I never got that part. When your local library has grimoires, who in their right mind would roll a fighter, so to speak?”

“Well, think about it.” I pointed to my butt. “Equestria in the show is a land of specialists. You might have to wear another hat temporally, but in the end your life revolves around your ‘special’ talent.This duel mark thing I've got going would probably be nightmare-fuel for the average Equestrian thanks to the whole one special talent nonsense.”

“...Rarity has a talent for gems, but still makes dresses...” He countered, but he sounded a bit unconvinced.

“And she turns cloth and thread from simple things, to things more valuable than your average house, by her skills and...?”

Mark grunted. “...And slobbering them in finally cut gems. Point.”

My stomach made its tiger in a maternity ward impression again... but strangely I didn't feel that hungry. I glanced at my hair, though about a certain other Alicorn’s extended lunar visit and wondered if there where fringe benefits to the whole deal I'd gotten...

But unless I found myself locked in a cupboard for a decade or two, I honestly saw no reason why I should try finding out.

I got up, realizing only then I'd forgotten my drink. “You mentioned food?”

Mark pointed at the cloud again. “You just gonna leave that?”

I looked at my pretty little cloud. “...You think it might cause any trouble?

He threw up his arms. “You’re the one that has the flashbacks of somepony else. I don't know. And what am I supposed to do if that happens? Flap my arms and wish really hard?”

I hummed softly, thinking it over. “...You're right, better safe than sorry... But can you do something while I get rid of it?”

“...Yes?”

“Can you go get the other bowls? I forgot them and I think I need to drop the towel to... Well, buck the cloud properly...”

“And you don't want to strip in-front of your brother, got it. Back in a few.” He got up, giving me a two-finger salute before sauntering on his way.

I waited until I heard the door close, before just shrugging the towel off. It was a wee bit disturbing how easy the nudist thing was coming to me... but what can you do? I only had so many articles of clothing that fit me anymore.

Granted, that was more a matter of time and letting capitalism have its way and before long pony fitted clothes is more or less guaranteed to show up... but what was I supposed to do until then? Hide in my bed? I think not.

Without further ado, I took to the air, briefly wondering if the other pegasi I met today would be able to do this around here. I could solve the moisture problem by simply pouring enough energy at it until it went away... But could they? Still, if they managed, it might just make them into better fliers then they'd ever been...

I shook my head and willed the subject away for another time. Mark would be back any moment.

I hovered, took aim... and let loose a buck that made my hooves whistle through the air. I barely had time to pat myself on the back...

Before the sudden increase in air moisture from the cloud dissipating and my near overcharged wings made me shot skyward screaming.

I didn't get that far...

Well, for flight that formed a mach-cone, at least. I was roughly four-five hundred feet up. The view would have been glorious, if I hadn't managed to terrify myself in the act. I spread my shaking wings so wide they ached, making me slowly drift down in a straight line.

I hit the ground with a soft thud. I didn't bother getting up. I just hugged the ground hard with all six trembling limbs. I vaguely felt my hair and tail dig into the ground in a couple of spots, as well.

“...I could really use that fucking manual...” I muttered, as the door crashed open, mom and Mark bursting out.

I carefully tried rising, but Mark pushed me down. “What happened?”

I focused on them. I couldn't help but smile, at how worried they looked. “Just another learning pain. I'm fine...”

Mark slapped my rump hard, making me yelp and my sprawled legs twitched in an involuntary buck. “Not what I asked. If you’re going to worry us like this, we want to know the details.”

Mom's face turned stern, but she just nodded at Mark's words.

I let out a tiny sigh, but I could see where the wind was blowing... (Literally and figuratively!) “I dissipated the cloud, but I didn't expect the sudden increase in air moisture. Thus the cannonball impression... It was just a dumb mistake.”

“A mistake almost made you go supersonic?!” Mom and Mark near shouted in unison.

I gave them such a glare I'm surprised their noses didn't catch fire. They did flinch away from me, though... “How. The. Fuck. Do you two think I feel about this?! I'm worried I’ll sneeze wrong and kill somebody! I could probably cause collateral by shouting right now!”

That actually shook Mark out of it. “...Like now?”

My anger just... drained. I felt... empty, just empty. I sagged down on the ground again. “...I was thinking like this, but sure...”

Mark responded by hoisting my up, and just carrying me inside like a sack of potatoes. “...Wha...?” I managed, oozing style and grace...

Mom took the rear, hand over her face as to not laugh herself silly.

“You've had one long, weird, and troubled day. Whatever you have planned with those bowls can wait until tomorrow. I'm putting you in bed...”

My stomach growled again, interrupting Mark.

“...after having gotten you some food and water.” He added, barely missing a beat.

I just sank down over his shoulder. I must admit, that... did sound good. “...Actually I wanted to do a small thing for the chili...”

“I made a large pot. You can do that tomorrow...”

Aww... It sure feels nice to be cared for, for once...

“...Thanks, Mark. But can you please put me down?” I asked politely.

He grunted unhappily, but complied. The down was far gentler than the up, but I got an unamused look at the end of it.

We were just inside the door, so I snagged the towel from outside using my TK. Both gave it interested looks as it drifted by that only stopped when I reared up on my hind-legs and wrapped it around my waist again.

Mark had a slight tint of red to his cheeks, but I pretended not to notice it as I walked out to the kitchen.

My large grin and tail swinging a bit wider was completely a coincidence, I swear.

The smell hit my immediately when I entered the kitchen. Beans, spices, rise...

And flesh, if I may be a bit dramatic. The smell made me drool so badly I had to wipe my neck.

Mark chuckled behind me. “Told ya.” He said a bit smug to mom, who just let out a sigh in response.

I remembered a certain hunks display earlier and turned my head without bothering with the rest of me. I kept it to the side, as to not unmake the progress mom had made with accepting my little my little pony condition, but I had my head to a ninety degree angle from forward and my neck wasn't even strained. Felt a bit funky, but considering that held true for more or less all of my body at the moment...

Mark must have anticipated my question, because he just pointed to the fridge. I gave him a nod and a smile, before asking: “Already eaten? Or should I...?” I gave another nod to the sunbathed dinner-table.

Mark sat down at the same. “Was waiting for you two.” Mom looked a bit guilty, before following his example.

I also sat down. Grinning. They looked confused for a moment, then Mark face-palmed and mom just gave her head another shake.

Tough crowd... Suddenly I got Trixie's reaction in Boast Busters a bit better... Wonder what happened to her, now that I think about it? No matter, not important at the moment. “Come on, if I don't practice...”

Mark made a get on with it gesture towards the fridge. I wasted no time complying...

Then I blushed and rose from my seat. “Sorry, got carried away and forgot that you need to be able to visualize the thing...”

Mark just facepalmed again, but mom was... grinning. I gave her a puzzled look. “Just nice to see some proof this is as new to you...”

My eyebrow rose. “And the scene outdoors?”

“You made a mach-cone...” Mark answered plainly. “...I think we're entitled to be a little startled.” Mom nodded her agreement.

“...Fair enough,” I said as I turned. They kinda had a point. I mean, had anybody told me last month I'd be doing stuff like that by mistake, I would have called them major league crazy.

I got to the center of the room, and got to work. The cupboard with the plates and glasses, the fridge and the drawer with the cutlery all flew open as I willed it. I fought down a desire to sing ‘Higitus Figitus’ from Disney's The Sword in the Stone. The mental image of me recreating that scene without really meaning to was hilarious, but I didn't think mom would be very happy if I actually managed to do it...

And the Fluttershy thing? I must admit, I was getting disturbingly used to this shape. The mental bits are terrifying...but the rest? What kid didn't dream about flying through the sky shooting lasers from their eyes at one point or another? I was having a blast with it.

I started with the cutlery, just to be sure. I more sensed Mark and mom tense then saw it... But they relaxed when they saw the spoons float to my outstretched hoof. I saw no reason to risk anything or anybody else today.

I started humming, as I shut the drawer. I mean, just look at me. I'm using my mind slash and or magic to serve dinner. How cool is that?

I floated the pots with chili and rise out of the fridge, grabbing a jug of OJ on impulse, before shutting the door. I didn't even feel strained, as I floated them all to the table.

A grin split my face. I levitated the bowls to me, and made them float around in a circle at arm height as if I was juggling them, as I turned back. “Look, ma! No hands!” I said, waving my hooves just to make the joke lamer.

This time mom joined Mark in his contemplation of close-range palm-reading.

I sat down giggling, while placing the bowls down.

I stopped, and refocused on the cupboard. The five glasses I'd forgotten soon joined us, even if mine and one of the extras made a small pit-stop at the tap.

I grinned at my slightly stunned dinner partners. “So, how was that?” I said, taking a swig of my water and draining the glass in that one sweep. I refilled it with OJ, using my hooves this time. Fuck me if I know how they do the whole sticking to things thing, but then that goes for a lot of my body at the moment...

They looked a little impressed, but it was a far-cry from the shouts the first few times I'd pulled it off. Mark nodded to the extra glasses. “What's that for?”

“Small experiment.” I answered, sounding as uninformative on purpose as I could. I put a wingtip to my lips and hushed, as they both started asking something.

They leaned back, waiting for me to continue with interest.

Now, the thing I was about to do? Started as a (Allegedly. Memories. Bla,bla, bla...) as a pegasi trick to preserve food. Salt is heavy, and you might need to trade for it. Smoking stuff tastes good and is kinda easy, but you either have to spend more time on the ground then most pegasi are comfortable with or drag lumber to cloud height. Drying... well, that works, but without salt it gets very bland.

But water and something to pour or stir with? When you live on, and can reshape clouds, then those things are near everywhere.

I started pouring the water back and forth between the glasses, pouring magic into the liquid as I did so, and keeping it in the light. For the first dozen or so pours, nothing much happened...

Then mom and Mark gasped, as it started changing color.

Or colors, to be precise.

I continued the back and forth moment until the liquid was completely rainbow colored.

“...Is that...?” Mark asked in a quiet voice. Mom looked between my smug grin, and Mark's slack jaw, clearly wondering what was so special about the pretty liquid...

“Yup, Rainbow essence.” I raised the glass, making all its colors dance along the table. “Might be the first drops of it on dear old Sol III, even.”

Mark grabbed a spoon, pointing it the wrong way towards the glass. “May I?”

I grinned. Mark's one of those that think Jalapenos makes nice snacks, especially with a bit of Tabasco.I knew he would be interested. “Sure, but only one drop to begin with.”

He nodded. “Can you get the milk? Just to be sure?”

I nodded back, and easily levitated a jug of it over, now that I know how the inside of the fridge currently looked. Mark was focused on the prismatic liquid, but I got another nod as thanks.

“Sure this is safe?” Mom asked, looking intrigued, but a bit worried.

Mark dipped the end of the spoon down, as he answered. “Supposed to be spicy as hell, but safe to eat...”

I realized mom had a point. “Put some on your skin, first. Just in case.”

He grumbled, but complied. He looked surprised as soon as the drop landed on the flat of his hand. “...Huh, it's actually a bit warm to the touch. Like keeping it in a tiny sunbeam.”

“Nothing else?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing I can feel.” He leaned in, and licked it off. Mom and I held our breaths...

And then... nothing happened.

He looked at the glass, disappointment writ large.

Then... nothing happened.

He didn't even do the change colors thing. Let down!

“...Perhaps it’s more reactive with pony taste-buds?” I volunteered.

Mark just shrugged, dipping his spoon the right way down this time. “Kinda like a bit stronger habaneros, but a sweet taste, rather than a smoky one. Not bad, but not flames from the mouth hot.”

Mom was smiling bemusedly. “I know what you two consider not that strong. I think I'll pass...”

I shrugged, before dipping my own spoon and showing it in my mouth. A burning sensation quickly filled my mouth, but it was just as Mark said. A sweet, non-smoky habanero, not the magical flamethrower I'd expected.

It was good though. A really nice, crisp taste and I could imagine it becoming something of a staple on the table for dishes like this. And not only at our table, at that... Just... a bit of a letdown. “So much for that theory...” I added, as I re-dipped my spoon and started licking it like a sucker from hell.

Mom was just shaking her head at her two insane so- children, before Mark offered: “Try taking a gulp. It might be something with the spoons, or we aren’t getting enough of it in one go...”

I gave another shrug, as I grabbed the glass. It was really neat how the colors didn't blend together, but I must admit I felt disappointed in my creation. I tilted my head back, and took a large swig.

I even sloshed it around in my mouth a bit, before swallowing. That made me give off a small wince afterward and to chase it down with a swig from the milk, but nope. Nothing more.

“...Does it need to simmer for a bit to become the proper deal?”

I gave him a shake, making my hair dance around. “Not to my ‘memory...’ It just has to go opaque. That's it...”

“Lame!” Mark shouted, before taking his own swig of the rainbow liquid. He too winced, but nothing more.

I bumped the jug of OJ against the milk jug he took up, before answering. “You said it.” We both took a swig of the jugs, before setting them down.

“...I just know I'm going to regret this...” Mom muttered, turning the near empty glass upside down over her spoon. A single drop fell on it.

Mark scooted the jug of milk over to her, as she braced herself. She hesitated, but opted to just jam the thing straight into her mouth in the end.

For a moment I thought it might be working, but her face had just gotten a bit red the natural way. She grabbed the milk and almost drained the half-full container. “You two are insane.” She panted out, as she put the jug back on the table.

Mark and I just shared a laugh at that, as we started scooping up the proper food. Mom joined in on both as soon as she stopped panting.

We eat mostly in silence, focused on the food. Mark had made it a bit mild for mom's sake, but the chili was still divine. Moist, soft beans, juicy meat and just a hint of the lager Mark favored.

Or perhaps that was me, the whole enhanced senses working in tandem with my two weeks without meat on my plate. Mom gave me a couple of worried looks at the start, but quickly relaxed when I just kept shoveling the stuff down my hatch.

Mark shook his head a couple of times at the sight, but made no comment. He did fish out his cell and snap a pic, but that was it.

Before long, I was done and floated the dishes over to the sink as I got up with a content smile on my face. “Thanks. As good as ever, Mark.”

My giant of a brother was still shoveling food into his black pit of a stomach, but he looked up and gave me an appreciating smile.

“Mind if I dodge the rest? I'm spent.”

He just waved a hand vaguely towards my room. “Heck, the parts I saw were bad enough. You go sleep.”

I nodded and smiled thankfully, before wishing them both goodnight and heading to my bed.

Truth be told, I had a small loft over my shop I usually lived in, and this old room of mine was mostly a bed and a nightstand. Still, it had been a lifesaver during this pony thing considering how much closer to civilization my shop was. I doubt I would have even finished changing before an insane fan would have clobbered me over the head, had I tried to hide there.

I closed and locked my door, before just letting my towel fall and unceremoniously flopping onto the bed.

My eyes drifted between my nightstand and my assets... The thought of some ‘alone time’ was tempting, but I was simply too spent. I decided that my new interest in toys and the shower slash car I'd almost forgot about could wait until tomorrow.

I barely got the blanket over me and my head on my pillows, before I started drifting off. All that energy I'd been throwing around must have gotten to me worse than I thought.

But a good day, all-things considered...

I thought with a smile, before untroubled sleep claimed me.

Author's Note

Regarding the meat thing... There's actually a scene in the show that supports the MLP ponies are omnivores thing:

Notice the boulogne sandwich? Just so you guys don't think I'm completely pulling it from my arse.

Chapter 8 - A Farmer And Her Blasted Plot, Part One

Chapter Eight - A Farmer And Her Blasted Plot, Part One

Wednesday May 13, 2020. 06:46

Kansas, northwest of Salina.

“Vroom! Vroom!”

A soft, pattering spring rain fell in the early morning, but it was warm so I paid it no mind as I ‘drove’ the tractor up and down my family’s fields.

Now this was technically not that impressive, nor anything I had not done before…

“Vroom! Vroooooom!”

Except this tractor had been broken for years and was currently glowing like the center of a fire-pit.

“Enjoying yourself, sweetie?” I asked my darling boy, as he ‘drove’ and ‘helped’ with the plowing.

He poked his head out the window, his grey and white striped hair quickly getting flattened by the rain and his pretty purple eyes glowing with pride at getting to help daddy. I thought about telling him to keep his eyes on where he was ‘going,’ but he was smiling so wide I simply did not have the heart. “Yes, daddy!”

I gave a nod and smiled at him, even as I shifted my plot on the roof. I’d bolted an old mattress in place so that I would have a ‘crow’s-nest’ of a sort to steer from, but it was hardly the most comfortable thing in the world. “Glad to hear it! But get inside again. I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

His adorable little face scrunched up in concentration. “…What about you?”

I thumped my chest with a hoof hard enough to make most off the rain my pelt had soaked splash off like a mist. “Your ol’ man could’ve handled this little drizzle even before this change, so don’t you worry. It will take far more too even face me now.”

I ‘stopped’ the tractor, as I leaned over the edge and gave him a wet nuzzling, making him give off an adorable little yelp. “You on the other hand don’t have a pelt to keep you warm. You get in and close that window, OK?”

He flashed me another adorable little smile, before doing as I had said. I started ‘driving’ again, he made the engine noises. The Alicorn and her little boy, enjoying themselves as ‘they’ worked…

Truly, it was a match made in a very silly heaven.

My new eyes spotted something by the old irrigation pond. Something grey, pretty and very, very wet.

“Look, dad! It’s mommy!”

With another smile I lifted the plough off the ground and altered our course. Now, normally this would have ruined a couple of hours of work…

“Vroooooooom! Beep, beep!”

But I haven’t seen much reason for the flat wheels touching the soil, so we just floated over the ready furrows. The only sounds the patter of rain, the tinkling of my magic and the odd “Vrooom!” from my son.

I chuckled, as I wondered how many years before Mark figured out I could have just sat on a cloud and raked only the plough across the field like an oversized window scraper. Far too few for my tastes, I was sure…

Monica/Zecora was just shaking her head at the sight as I landed the tractor at the edge off the pond and the field, making her pretty new mane whip around. I’d probably spend a year on the couch if I ever said so out loud, but the new her? Oh yes, daddy likes!

The rain had plastered her mane to her head, but it was still the near shining mix of grey and white I’d gotten so fond off. Her pelt was just as drenched, leaving nothing off her gorgeous curves to the imagination.

I thought about if I should teleport with Mark back to the farm before he saw more than was wise, but eh. It’s not like I intended to ravish her, then and there.

A wicked grin came to me. Even if the thought was more than a little tempting, minus Mark being there, of course…

Still, this is the age of internet capable cell-phones. I’m fairly certain he’ll know what a vigina looks like the moment they become interesting to him…

I looked down at my own just as naked form. Funny, you don’t miss pants until you're suddenly unable to wear them...

But I grinned a bit wider and teasingly spread my wings as I looked back up from my pretty purple plump plot.

Who was I to throw the nude mare stone?

“Mommy!” he shouted, as he threw open the door and bounced towards her with the type of favor only tiny kids seems to be capable off. Zecora blushed a little at her state of undress, but it quickly switched to a warm smile as she scooped Mark He yelped again, as he got another wet nuzzling in almost as many minutes.

She hoisted him over to her back and got down on all fours in one fluid motion, making him shout “Wee!”

I jumped off, easily getting traction in the air thanks to all the moisture. With only a few flaps I was beside them. We traded smiles, and a nozzle each, before trotting back to the farm.

“Helping daddy, I see?” she said, looking over her back for a moment with a twinkle in her eye.

Mark nodded enthusiastically. “I did the engine noises!”

Zecora blinked, before looking back at me with a raised eyebrow. I just smiled in response, making her shake her head again.

I spluttered as I got a face full of water. She and Mark shared a giggle at this. I countered by using a shield spell as a makeshift umbrella.

This made Zecora pause mid-step for a moment. “Very impressive, Twilight. How long have you had that?”

She blinked and shook her head, as if dislodging something. “Sorry, Twilight. I didn’t mean to call you Twilight, I of course meant Twilight, Twilight.”

I just barked out a laugh, even as she face palmed. This got me a giggle from Mark, and a glare from her. “This is no laughing matter, Tw- “She closed her eyes for a moment, brow furrowed in concentration. “I meant George. This is no laughing matter, George.”

I leaned forward and gave her a kiss on the cheek, making her blush. “Love, I’m taking this seriously... but its been over two weeks now.” I leaned forward again and gave her another nozzle, making her coo in delight despite herself. She let out a soft little sigh, as I leaned back. “Isn’t it about time we try to see things from the bright side?”

Zecora looked back at Mark, who had curled together into a ball and fallen asleep on her back, despite how wet she was. She frowned slightly at the sight, before lifting a hoof and pointing it towards Mark in an awkward angle. The she swept her hoof to her side, making the water in her pelt jump towards the ground in a miniature waterfall.

Mark gave off a soft, content sound in his sleep, as he was suddenly as dry as when he had gone out to help me.

Ah, so that was why she was so wet. Practice! I gave her a quiet clap by stomping the ground a few times. She quickly turned her head and shushed me, but did so with a smile. She raised her hoof. “Want me to do you?”

I gave her my best lecherous grin. “Shouldn’t we put Mark to bed first, love?”

Her cheeks turned crimson at my words. I helped the adorable blush along by giving her cheek another peck. “My, my… aren’t you the romantic today…” She murmured happily in response.

I resisted the urge to nibble her ear. I started walking again instead. “Well, what can I say? This beautiful mare has been driving me crazy lately by barely even letting me kiss her…”

A frown swept her face, but I pretended not to notice. I just walked, swinging my tail a bit wider than strictly necessary. I grinned wide as my magical awareness of the area around me showed as clear as if I had looked at her, how her eyes were drawn towards my nether region. I resisted the urge to give her a ‘wink,’ instead focusing on getting home.

We walked the rest of the way in silence, and before long we had reached the farm.

It wasn’t that big a house at two stories, and blue walls and white trimming was hardly the most original.... Nor was a barn, the house itself and just a few acres that big either, but the lot of it has been in my family for generations…

I glanced down on my purple hooves, but kept walking.

And right now, I was really glad for my family owning this remote little corner of Kansas.

A shudder that had nothing to do with my wet pelt swept over me, at the thought off what would have happened had my parents lived less remote. I’m fairly certain we would have made it, one way or the other…

I glanced back at Mark.

Me and Zecora was one thing… if the worst came to the worst we could just gallop off, find a place with grass of all things and be set… But with Mark in the picture? The thought of having to leave him behind somewhere just because of these changes made my heart ache and skin crawl.

Zecora stopped me at the door, doing the water moving thing again. It felt darn peculiar having water just slide out of my pelt like that, but I couldn’t argue with the result. It felt as if I had never been wet to begin with. I flashed her a smile as thanks, before stomping my hooves on the doormat, letting go of my own spell and walking in.

I paused, as I sensed how she stopped. I looked back… She was looking between her muddy hooves, Mark on her back and then back again, worry on her indecisive face. I stifled a giggle at the adorable scene, before floating him off her back and onto mine. He stirred a little, and mumbled something but didn’t wake.

Zecora shot me a thankful smile, before stomping off her hooves and trotting over. She just stood and looked at Mark for a while, her eyes tender. “…To think, all those years…” She began after a while, her voice soft and low. “…we thought he had some manner of pigmentation problem…”

She put a muddy hoof to a lock of her mane, the grey and white mixed by the water into a striking silver color. “And instead, he had his mom's’ real hair colors all along. Isn’t that a bit funny?”

I gave a soft chuckle, as I pointed a purple hoof at my face. “Yeah, and daddies’ eyes…”

Zecora hesitated for a moment… then she leaned forward and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. She was blushing, had a sheepish grin… but she was smiling, as she pulled back from the first kiss she had ´given me since we had transformed.

I blinked away a few tears, as my smile widened. “…Does this mean…?”

She coughed in embarrassment, as her eyes drifted everywhere except me and Mark. “…This is just so wrong…” She mumbled, as her cheeks looked near on fire.

I giggled, as I started to take Mark to his room. “You mean the tiny horses thing?”

She sank down on her haunches, covering her face with her hoofs. I swept my eyes over the glorious sight of her undercarriage, exposed by the act.

She let her hooves drop, giving me a sad look. “…Yes.”

She looked away, but not before I saw the mistiness of her eyes.

“Hey,” I said, as I pointed towards the bathroom. “Why don’t you take the shower, I’ll put Mark in bed and…”

She shuddered, the simple movement making her mane and tail twitch all over. “I’m sorry, I just…” She pattered off, lost for words.

My heart sank, because from how crestfallen she looked, she really did not need any. “…Why don’t have to… You know, do anything.” I looked at the floor. It was a bit cowardly of me, but I just… didn’t want to see her reaction. “…I’d just like to hold my wife again.”

Quickly, the clopping of hooves filled the air, and I found my shin being lifted be a gentle hoof to eye level. Her turquoise eyes were so, so gentle as she locked eyes with mine. So much had changed, even their color, but seeing that part of her unchanged made my heart soar.

She leaned in and gave me a peck on the nose, only hesitating for a moment this time. I simply could not stop myself, and gave a soft little whiny of pleasure in response.

She jerked her head back, eyes a bit wide.

Just as I thought I’d ruined thing… she gave me a smile. It was a tiny thing, and more sad then happy, but it was a smile nonetheless. “…I’m sorry, Twilight. I haven’t been much off a wi-“

I shoved a hoof to her lips, making her splutter from the mud. “Sorry! I forgot.” I quickly said, as she shot me a glare.

I lowered my hoof. “But I just want you to know… I get it. This is hard for you. Take your time. I just want you to know I find this new you very pretty…“

She looked at me for several moments, before her mud stained lips parted in a hesitant smile. “…How about you go put Mark to bed? We can continue this after that, right?”

With a grin, I teleported to Mark’s room. A surprised yelp came from the down the stairs and through the door, even as I levitated him over to his bed and quickly tucked him in.

Then I teleported back, straight in front of a certain suddenly irritated zebra. “Done! What did you have in mind?”

She gave me a slight glare, but it only lasted moments before being replaced with a giggle. “Seriously? Teleportation to win an argument?”

I trotted forward, sitting down plot to plot, mark against mark. She tensed slightly, but it was just as clear she was trying not to. I leaned my neck against hers. To my delight, this time she gave off a tiny whiny… even if she fought it down quickly.

“…Is this really so horrible?” I asked, as I gently rubbed my neck against hers. I got a few pleased coos but she fought them down as well. “Would it be so bad if I levitated you to bed, and made you mine once more?”

I wrapped my hoofs around her, hugging her. To my surprise and delight, she hugged back. “I know it will be different... but am I such a horrible mare for wanting you to talk dirty to me in rhyme?”

She laughed at that one, hugging me tighter as she did. “…Seriously?”

As my response, I grabbed her, twisted slightly… and planted my lips to hers. Her eyes widened in surprise, before fluttering closed in pleasure. I was so very tempted to add tongue into the mix, but I didn’t dare, so I just kept planting my lips against hers’, her face, her cheeks, even one or two against her neck.

She was still for one horrible moment, making we worry I had moved too fast… but then she started kissing me back with only a whimper to mark the passing of her hesitation.

I did however unfurl my wings, and added them to the hug. She gave another little coo at the sudden warmth, but other than that we just kept kissing.

The taste of mud almost made me sputter at the start, but I fought it down. It was my fault and I wasn’t about to have mud off all things stop me from this. Not after two weeks of her needing some distance. I’m honestly not certain how long we sat there, just lost in each other’s presence.

…Granted, are not such moment always too short? But I digress.

Before long anyway, a tiny “Dawwwww…” from behind us broke the spell.

I kept the hug around my blushing and grinning darling, but I turned my head around. “Seriously, dad. Can’t you see we’re having a moment?”

Dad smiled as he held up two towels in his work scarred hands. “Heard the two of you come in, and I know you don’t exactly have boots at the moment, sooooo…”

He nodded at us, smile still in place. “Didn’t expect to be walking in on the two of you patching things up…” His grin grew positively lecherous. “Should I come back later or is that mud not unintentional?”

I looked back on Zecora. My cheeks started burning as I realized we both were smeared with the stuff. I had to swallow as it dawned on me that our kissing and hugging had spread it around enough it almost looked as if we had… wrestled in the stuff.

And then she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at me. “Why the look of sudden fear, my sweetest dear? Did you not want me to rhyme, during our time most sublime? How would you react if I told you that the sight of you clothed only in mud…” She leaned closer, making my breath catch in my throat at the sight of her half wailed eyes. But instead of kissing, she leaned even further ahead and whispered in my ear. “Oh, how it boils my blood!”

My mind went blank, as she nibbled hard on my ear. I vaguely heard dad give off a quiet laugh, as I felt my wings and tail dart upwards without my conscious input.

I quickly let go and started fighting my rouge appendages down. Dad and Zecora just lost it, but I don’t think they would have been as amused if they know just how tempted I’d been to just take her, then and there.

I could feel them strain to go *fumph* again, but I managed to fold my wings again. My tail was just being stubborn, though.

I guess it made sense, in a way. Biologically speaking. Secondary traits signaling your readiness is one thing, but one that disables a creatures primary way of flight, if the pun may be pardoned? Go, go, gadget evolutionary pressure! They felt stiff and strained against my will, but it was more like fighting down a smile then ignoring an erection.

My tail thought? Now that was more like the later. I could still move it, but it was more or less side to side only. I opted to sit down, as to not offer dad a view of his former son’s winking twat.

I waited for the laughs to die down. I took the towels from my dad’s hands telekinetically without any resistance and started wiping off in the meantime. Zecora didn’t even stop when I dropped the other towel on her head. She just kept laughing, looking like the worlds cheapest and least thematically correct ghost.

The pictures of smiling teddy bears on the baby-blue fabric did not improve the look.

I focused on my mental picture of the laundry room, and with only a flash my own race car and mud covered towel was in the laundry bin.

Dad had seen enough ‘impossibilities’ these last weeks to not even flinch but it did make him stop laughing and look a bit stern. “And just what did you do to that poor towel, young girl?”

“I just sent it to the laundry bin, dad. No need to get snappy,” I stated plainly. “Thank for bringing them, by the way.”

Dad shook his head, but the furrows on his weather bit face grew a bit gentler. “No problem.”

I flashed a smile and got one in turn, before turning to Zecora that was just finishing her own clean up. “So, you’re getting mystical rhyming powers, then?” I asked tongue in cheek and with a sly little grin.

She stuck her tongue out at me, before switching to a thoughtful look. “It is somewhat weird, I must admit. As long as I do not think about it my tongue now seems to simply dance with newfound wit…”

The thought of where I wouldn’t mind her tongue dance around made my wings dart open again. I fought them down with a groan, as Zecora and dad did the same to their giggles at the sight.

Zecora got serious. “But seriously, nothing is forcing me to do it. It’s just… strangely easy, you know? Like I’ve gotten a knack for it.”

I noticed she wasn’t focusing on me when she said it, but I pretended not to notice. “Well, anyway…” I pointed towards the shower, biting back a grin. “Rock, paper, scissors for who gets the shower first?”

Just as I had hopped, Zecora raised a tired hoof, not thinking. Dad quickly darted out of the room, barely keeping his laughter under control. “One, two, three!” We said in unison.

She stared at her hoof, then my wing with two primaries spread into a V, then back again. “…Dear Lord, I’m really out of it today, aren’t I?”

I blew her a kiss with the same wing, no longer bothering to hide my smile. “You’re just not used to the schedule here on the farm. You’ll feel better with some breakfast inside you, and some warmth from the shower. Now get going.”

She reared up to crack her back. In the background my wings went *fumph* again. I just grinned, as she got back down with an amused expression. “Seriously, you’re worse than on our honeymoon…”

I gave her a seductive growl, making her ears and tail stand to attention. “And what tease of a grayscale seductress is to blame for that, I wonder?”

Her eyes got mist again, as she tilted her head and gave me an odd, but hopeful look. “…You really think I’m… sexy, like this?”

I gave her my best ‘come hither’ look, as I spread my wings as wide as they would go. A part of me got amused when that movement proved much easier to do then the opposite. “Love, you say the word and I’ll have us in the bedroom spreading my hips for you faster than you can say ‘I want you so badly I’m starting to ache…’”

Her jaw dropped, and she turned crimson once more. “…You spread yourself for me?”

I turned my body while keeping my head still, giving her the premium view without actually breaking eye contact. “Do I look male or uneager for your touch, to you?”

She stiffened a bit… but I still smiled at how she had to suck back some drool. She gave me a hard but practically smoldering look after that. “Fine, you naughty girl. You win. How about we share that shower before we both ruin the carpet out here?”

I tapped the tiles past the welcome mat, giving her my best lecherous grin in the process.

She just shook her head at it. “You utter pervert…”

The squeak from my cheeks echoed in the tiny hall, making her giggle. She nodded her head at my horn. “You know you light up like a christmas-tree when you get excited?”

I blinked at her, before looking up. I honestly hadn’t noticed, but she was right. A purple glow so strong it danced on the walls was flickering up and down my horn.

And Zecora took advantage of my distraction by creeping up, and planting a kiss right on it.

White dots danced in my vision and my mind went blank, as I vaguely felt the floor claim me and something that made the air smell like the taste of blueberries and taste like the smell of ink sparked out of my horn.

When I came to several bliss filled moments later, Zecora was rolling on the floor laughing so hard she could hardly breathe…

There were tiny embers of something sticking to the ceiling, glowing bright but fading even as I watched.

And I had made a wet mess right where I was sitting.

“…You tease.” Was all I could think of as a witty comeback. Still, my happy panting didn’t exactly scream displeasure at the act.

And then, with perfect timing as usual, dad burst into the room. He tried blurting something out, but his nose just wrinkled at the smell instead. “…What just happened? What’s that strange smell?”

I quickly scooted over the wet stain on the floor. “…Could you pass me the towel? I’ve… made a mess.”

Dad stared at me, one eyebrow raised. “…You can’t levitate it yourself suddenly, because…?”

Zecora just kept rolling around, but her laughter grew a bit higher pitched at my dad’s words.

My horn throbbed, at the mere thought of a spell so soon after… that. I gave him a sheepish grin. “…Zec- I mean Monica kissed me on the horn and…” I let out an embarrassed cough. “…Well, I can’t right now and… I’ve made a mess. Please?”

Dad stared at me.

Then he looked up and stared at the slowly fading embers of raw magic.

Then he gave the near hysterically laughing zebra still rolling on the floor a stare for good measure.

Then he took a deep breath and covered his head with both his hands.

“…Is this… horn ejaculation of yours…” I felt half my blood rush to my cheeks at his question. “…likely to burn down the house or turn it radioactive?”

I squeaked out a “No.” even as Zecora’s laughs grew even more frantic. She wasn’t even rolling around anymore, just kicking weakly in the air with her hooves as she lay there shaking with laughter.

Dad just let out a sigh at the sight. “Tell you what? I’ll go get a clean towel and… clean up. You two lovebirds get into bed before you cause stains on something less easy to clean then this floor or sheets…”

I had to cover my head with my hooves at the thought of dad doing… that. Zecora started up again at his words. “…Please, dad. Just get me the towel and I’ll do the rest, OK?”

“Fine, fine…” He mumbled, but with a note of relief in his voice, before striding off.

Only then did Zecora’s laugh die down into something even approaching sane sounding. “Oh, my sides!” She blurted out between giggle fits. “The look on your face was priceless!”

I weakly lifted myself on unsteady hooves. Truth be told, I would have rather scooted, but that would have left a something of a trail, so I opted not to. I walked over, my hooves a bit shaky before unceremoniously falling next to Zecora and pulling her into a hug.

The huge grin on my face actually snapped her out of it. “That was the best damn orgasm I’ve ever had,” I said. Making her turn crimson again and try to splutter something out, but I interrupted her by giving her a kiss.

I broke it quickly, not wanting something to start again in the hall. I gave her a happy nozzle though. “It felt as if my mind was on fire, but in a good way.”

The way her breath was coming in short little pants was making shivers dance down my spine. “You do realize that that means you’ve pleased a girl for the first time, right?” I murmured, tightening my hug a bit. “And she wants more.”

She gulped at the fire in my words, but her eyes were wide and her breath was still coming quick and shallow. I leaned in and took a greedy pull of her exotic scent. Almost like a horse, but not quite. I didn’t have words for most of it, but it made me think of hot summers and the smell of rain.

It was one of the most wonderful scents I’ve ever felt.

Her breath went less shallow, and she followed my example with a smile on her face.

She reached her head upwards, giving me another nuzzle and making me coo at the soft, luxurious feel of fur against fur. “You know I love you, right? I just… had some problem with these new shapes of ours…”

I let out a tiny laugh. “I get it. I love you too, hun. Now, le-“

I blinked at the sound of something almost like a teleport that had interrupted my words, but instead of the crack of displaced air, there had been a wet organic sound.

I noticed in the corner of my eye that dad was back, the fresh towel falling from his hands. He and Zecora were staring at a spot on my chest.

Both looking pale and horrified.

I followed their gazes, just as piece of blackened flesh the size of one of my new eyes fell away, down onto Zecora’s own chest with a squishy wet splat.

I barely had time to see the purple gleam of a gem, before the thing flared as it turned into a miniature star and white-hot pain hit me.

And then I started screaming.

I’m not certain how I did it, but both Zecora and dad curled up and covered their ears as I slipped into the royal voice, still screaming.

I tried to fight it down, to teleport away, to do something… but the best I could do was to roll away from Zecora and bang my head against the floor, still screaming loud enough that my new ears heard glass shatter in the other end of the house.

I felt the tiles under my head crack, even as some far-off part of me wondered how my ears were picking up the sound of mom’s footsteps scrambling towards us and Mark screaming something about “Dad!” over the sound of my own voice.

I tried to stop my own screaming, even if it was just long enough for dad and Zecora to get away. I bit down on a foreleg hard enough I felt my teeth hit bone, but even that was only a slight distraction to the searing pain already present.

Dad scrambled over, ears bleeding, and pulled the stunned Zecora to safety. I heard him shout something I couldn’t focus on and slammed the inner door to the house shut.

I pulled my teeth out, the iron taste of my own blood thick in my mouth as I just started screaming again.

The walls shook as I screamed once more, as I failed to hold back even a little now that my loved ones were out of the immediate danger zone.

I felt something start to tear in my throat, even as I pounded at the floor, reducing the tiles to powder and cracking the stone they rested on with each swing.

I have no idea what source of strength I drew from, but somehow I managed to focus long enough for me to teleport to the empty field I and Mark had been working on just an hour ago.

I landed in a sprawled heap next to the pond.

I was over a kilometer from the house.

That was the only one for miles.

No one but me would be hurt from this.

I let go of my restraints.

All of them.

And I screamed.

And screamed.

And screamed.

At some point I had even stopped breathing, somehow my magic was just creating fresh air in my lungs.

This just meant that the wall of sound coming from me, now even making my ears bleed, did not even pause for me taking breath.

The rain stopped falling, instead turning to tiny puffs of steam in midair as they hit the pressure-wave from my torment.

The old tractor collapsed, some of the smaller pieces of rusty metal shattering like crystal at the mercy of an opera singer.

And then my magic tried to fix things, by flowing towards my battered throat and other wounds. I felt steam rise from my ears, the bite, the horrible wound where the six pointed star now rested and even from within my throat.

I saw my flesh repair itself before my streaming eyes, as terrible power I barely knew I had flooded my system.

What was left of the tractor started tumbling away and the earth shook, as my now overcharged vocal cords jumped into overdrive.

A poor bird that had hidden in a now flattened bush next to the rippling pond, tried to fly away. It got a few feet, before falling down dead in a splash of crimson.

The cold logical place within me that was the only thing allowing me to think about any of this, noted how it was bleeding from every orifice, even the blood-filled eyes. Its internal organs must have been liquefied by my screams of agony.

And how glad even that part of me was, that I didn’t have to see that happen to any of my family.

I started pounding at the soft earth, hitting it so hard again and again, that some manner of brown stone started forming. My nostrils filled with the smell of smoke and burned soil for a moment, before the scent got blown away by my scream.

And then a tingling warmth spread in my chest, as what I now recognized as the Element of Magic…

Tried to help its mistress.

By adding its strength to my own.

Not realizing it was the very thing it was trying to protect me from.

My whole body started glowing, as every ounce of magic in the vicinity, my own internal reserves and those of magic made manifest, flooded my system in a tide of power that made my blood boil and bones ache.

I felt smoke rise from my horn, wings and even hooves, as my body desperately tried to vent the energy… but it just kept building.

But it found some release, however small, in my magically enhanced voice.

What was left of the bird turned to a red mist, soon lost among the loose soil that was being blown away from me.

The pond started boiling, no longer able to just passively absorb the amount of kinetic energy getting thrown at it.

I tumbled down through the topsoil that was being blown away so fast now that it was like sinking in quicksand.

I hit bedrock still burning with power. Still in agony. Still screaming.

A nearby edge of the quickly expanding crater broke, flooding where I was sprawled with the boiling water.

I barely felt it. It was just a mild annoyance compared to the white hot star in my chest. Not even a drop reached my throat, and soon, only a boiling mist quickly being thrown away remained.

The limestone cracked under me, as I continued pounding it. Both with my hooves and power.

I felt myself lift. I had not willed it. The magic simply flowed into that simple spell in a desperate attempt to do anything to ground itself.

Then the rocks started glowing, heated by both my screams and the torrent of magic flowing out of me.

The last thing I saw before unconsciousness claimed me, was the clouds high above starting to be pushed away, as the pillar of purple light and heated air reached them.

Then the world turned purple, just before the sweet release of oblivion started to claim me.

But the last thing I felt was my still shaking throat. Trembling in a scream even a banshee would not perform... or perhaps even dare listen to.

Then… only darkness and blessed silence.

I did not fight it. I did not resist it. I welcomed it.

I simply hopped, deep in my heart of hearts, before the rushing dark claimed even that spark…

That I would not wake to a broken world.

Or worse. Far, far, far worse.

An for me, empty one.

Chapter 9 - A Farmer And Her Blasted Plot, Part Two

Chapter Nine - A Farmer And Her Blasted Plot, Part Two

The first thing I heard when I came to was the distant pings of cooling rock. For some reason, the sound was oddly comforting.

Even if it was mostly in a ‘Hurray! I’m not dead!’ sort of way.

Then I heard the crackling of flames, much closer by.

I opened my eyes, their lids feeling as if they were made from cast-iron.

Strange purple flames danced around me, as most of the lime still burned.

I stared at the nearest flickering flame, as my mind actually started grasping what I was seeing.

The lime was burning.

I tried to scramble to me hooves, but they didn’t have the strength to hold me up. I opted to turn around on my back instead.

It was foolish, but I gambled on that if I wasn’t dead yet… and I simply felt way too damn tired for anything else.

It took most of my remaining strength, and after I was panting hard.

That was when I noticed the dozen Apache helicopters hovering above the crater I’d made.

Weapons pointing straight at me.

The crater was so large, that they didn’t even have to fly in formation. They just hung in the air as sentries.

Against me.

High and far apart enough, that I would only be able to get one or two, before the rest unloaded their arsenals on me.

I looked down on the stupid pet-rock from my previous life that had caused this whole mess. I was hoping it might have enough juice left to actually get me out of it as well, but no such luck...

It was so drained in fact, that it had even turned so dark and lifeless it was nearly black… but there wasn’t a scratch on it.

And my flesh around it had healed so completely you could barely see the edge of it.

There wasn’t even a scar.

A booming voice echoed out. For one horrified moment my addled brain thought it must be Princess Celestia, here somehow to tell me that she was so disappointed in me, that she was stripping me of my crown, my Alicorn hood, my Element and then she was sending me back to magic daycare to restart my obviously completely failed education from scratch, my wife never wanted to see me again and both my moms and fathers were so very, very disappointed in me…

Then I noticed the voice was not only electronically enhanced instead of magically, but male and talking with a slight South-African accent.

And it was calling my name.

But I just couldn’t focus on more than that.

I tried to say something, anything, to make them understand that I was hearing them, but I was simply in no shape to answer…

Too late I realized that this would be very stupid and painful, but to my surprise my voice was barely raspy when it rang out. “Please, give me a moment...”

A cascade of clicking noises greeted my voice and the enhanced one grew quiet.

I hoisted my weary head up…

The clicking noise was the company of soldiers I’d missed when I focused on the choppers, having armed their rifles.

There were enough of them there that the group was almost a pluton.

There were even a few heavy-weapons teams, pointing rocket-launchers at me.

I tried raising my hooves in surrender, I really did… but I was too spent. They didn’t even twitch.

My eyes finally focused on a man in a uniform bristling with enough marks and commendations that even from here, he just screamed ‘General.’ Strangely, the uniform he was wearing was not that of the US, but instead the clear blue speckled urban cameo that the UN favored.

I gave the group another look. I saw paratroopers, regular troopers… I even saw a few navy SEAL’s insignias among the group.

And those were the ones I recognized. This was an international effort.

I gulped at that. Somebody had gone through a lot of trouble to scramble this response…

Against me.

The man I had already guessed to be the commander of this operation, once more lifted the megaphone to his lips. “Mrs. Sparkle, can you hear me?”

I put my head down. Noting how refreshingly warm the ground felt beneath me…

My ears darted around, as I heard the man put a finger to his ear and speak with somebody on a walkie-talkie through an earpiece. “She’s awake, but seems to be either confused or fatigued. Is there anything I can say that might reach her?”

I heard a buzzing answer him, but it was too distorted, low and far away for me to hear it. The man just nodded at what he heard. “Excellent. I will try that.”

He turned back towards me. “Your wife wants you to know she and the others made it safely to the storm-cellar. Your father and your wife suffered burst eardrums, but other than that they are fine. “

A wave of relief flooded me, so strong I almost passed out again.

Only to be replaced with a feeling of dread, as he continued. “And your daughter says hi.”

I almost started hyperventilating, but I fought the panic down with a breathing exercise… That I had learned from MLP: FIM recursively enough.

I steeled myself once I calmed, not sure if I wanted to hear the answer. “If you meant my son Mark, then that was a cruel test of my sanity, Mr. Please don’t do that again.”

I heard the smile in his voice as he spoke again, still using the megaphone. “Ah, please forgive me, Mrs. Sparkle. We had to be sure.”

Relief flooded me. “…Can I talk with her?”

He pointed down at the crater with his other hand. “You’re lying in burning lime, Mrs. Sparkle. My scientific advisors are banging their heads against the wall about how you’re even alive. Sorry, but until you get out of there and cool down the best I can do is forward a message.”

I rested my head back, grunting in annoyance. “…Just tell her I’m alright, please?”

He did so, getting a burst of static that sounded suspiciously like a relieved laugh from his earpiece in turn.

I gave another look around. The soldiers had lowered their weapons, but it didn’t take a genius to realize that they hadn’t even turned the safeties on. They had simply stopped pointing them at me, for now.

I turned my head to the general again. “…Am I under arrest, or something? And who are you guys, Mr.…?”

He scratched his chin, thinking his answer over for a while. “My name is General Maximilian Shade, formerly of the UN’s peacekeeping forces…”

I raised an eyebrow. I realized it was unlikely he would see it through the murk, and the heat-haze, but it was the principal of the matter. “Formerly?”

He did whatever it was that made me hear his smile through his voice again. “Now commander of the newly formed magic research and response team as part of Operation Warhorse. You’re something of a trial by fire for us Mrs. Sparkle. We haven’t even been officially announced by the UN yet.”

He scratched at his chin again. “As far as your legal status at the moment… I am sad to say that the best answer I may give at the moment is ‘complicated.’”

I let out a weary sigh. Here it comes. You’re not even a person legally at the moment and bla, bla, bla… “Humor me and try to explain, please…“

He hesitated, but only for a moment. “Very well, Mrs. Sparkle. I shall be blunt. I have several nations breathing down my neck with ‘suggestions’ about just shooting you in the head now with the heaviest munitions I may muster and making it look like either a misfire or an escape attempt.”

I heard some muttering in the ranks at that. I even heard somebody shout: “I didn’t fucking enlist to fucking shoot fucking Twilight Sparkle in the fucking head!”

The gentleman brony with the silver tongue got a glare from the commander for his insubordination, but it seemed clear his heart wasn’t in it.

I let out a laugh without a shred of humor in it. “And you’re telling that to me, because?”

He hesitated again… or perhaps waiting for the muttering in the rank to die. Either way, that was how long it took for him to speak again. “I have several rapports, both with eyewitness claims and without that in turn claim to know what happened here… May I have your versions of events, before we continue?”

Hmm, not leading a witness? This guy seems to know his stuff… I pointed a shaking hoof at the purple star in my chest. “This thing just popped up and telefragged part of my chest.” I swept a trembling hoof around the crater. “Then I kept screaming for a good while thanks to the blinding pain…” A new muttering broke out, sounding a bit weary this time. I stopped the hoof, pointing at General Maximilian. “And then I woke up with a small army pointing their weapons at me. Good enough?”

Another moment of hesitation. “…Screams, nothing more?”

I gave a shrug that barely made my shoulders move. “I think I might have gotten a magic surge at the end. I was too busy writhing in pain…”

He held a finger to his buzzing earpiece for a moment. “…Ah, your wife claims you performed the royal voice…”

“No. You don’t say?”

He put his free hand to his mouth and coughed once. “So this is what happens if you scream with it. Impressive.”

I rolled my eyes and swept my arm around again. “If you or your people are looking for a reusable sonic suicide bomb, you can forget it. I’m not even sure how I’m doing this and even if I did, I sure as hell wouldn’t let something capable of this fall into any hands, not even military ones…”

I saw him drum his fingers against the side of the megaphone for a while, before clearly coming to some manner of decision. “Have you ever thought of joining the military, Mrs. Sparkle? The UN seldom hires directly in such matters… but for you? I am certain I can make my superiors agree to that.”

I stared at the man grinning so wide I could see his teeth all the way from here.

I noticed in the corner of my eye, that almost all the soldiers were staring at him as well…

He took my silence as a sign to continue. “From what I have gathered, you got the magical equivalent of ticking nuclear football bolted to you and still held back your pain and panic for long enough to get away from any bystanders.”

The image of that poor bird flashed through my mind and started warping into other… familiar shapes. I fought it down with a shudder, before it could finish doing so.

He gave a slow clap, before continuing once more. “And you even survived the ordeal and several hours in the molten slag that resulted. Most impressive. “

I saw fire that had nothing with the pit I was laying in become reflected in his eyes. “I’ll shall once more be blunt, Mrs. Sparkle. We need you and your expertise. I and my men have scoured the world for real magic experts almost since this mess began… and we have only found illusionist, folklorists and charlatans who have begun to believe their own lies. Had this been an intentional attack in a population center we would have had no counter to it, short off turning up as fast as possible and… Well, hope that shooting the perpetrator in the head would actually work…”

The sound of the choppers and the flames where the only sounds as he let his words sink in. Then he continued. “Even if the frontlines are abhorrent to you… Well, your knowledge might still save untold millions, simply by giving me and my men the knowledge we are so lacking in at the moment. Would such a thing be of interest to you, Mrs. Sparkle?”

My jaw had fallen wide-open halfway through his little recruitment drive, but it was only at the question at the end I realized this. I gently closed my maw.

Then I felt strength return to me, as I pictured my family with weapons drawn on them. I felt my mane rise and my pelt turn a blinding white as the anger lent its strength to mine.

A few soldiers scrambled for their guns. Some started running. The would be sailor from earlier throw his gun straight into the pit and ran screaming about “Run! Run! Run you dumb bastards! The stupid bastard has pissed off Twilight fucking Sparkle! Ahhhhhh!” without even looking where he was going…

I made a dome of force around the rifle with a small effort of will, just before the ammo cooked off from the heat. I kept my focus there until the thing had not only fired its clip, but melted in the strange flames that still roared in several places.

When it let the dome collapse there was only a smoldering puddle of metals left.

I got on my hunches. To me, this place was a bit warm. Almost not even uncomfortably so.

Then I refocused on the commander with a glare that would have made Fluttershy proud.

But the man just raised his megaphone once more. Looking as calm as if this was a company picnic. “I have no intentions of coercing you, Mrs. Twilight… But I can understand why you might have come to that conclusion. As a gesture of good faith…”

He hung the megaphone from his belt, before once more activating his walkie-talkie. I saw him switch frequencies… “Now orders everybody. Fallback to camp in an orderly fashion. Thunder one to twelve, you may return to base.”

Almost immediately the choppers turned around and started heading from where ever they had come from. His men saluted, and the various subcommands started barking marching orders…

Before long only I and the man I was starting to believe must have some manner of Tardis like technology in his boxers were left at the crater. I felt my mane return to its more normal appearance of a flowing purple streak of glimmering light, rather than the flames that had outshone all the others in this place combined.

“…I must admit,” I started slowly and carefully. “The thought did strike me…”

He bowed his head once. “Forgive the misunderstanding. I hope you understand why the presence of my men where necessary?”

He wasn’t even pretending that I needed the megaphone and left it on his belt. Interesting, but I focused on the conversation itself. “You were worried I’d gone cuckoo for coco-puffs. I get it.”

I actually got a small chuckle for that.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “But if I ever learn of any threats against my family…” I swept my hoof around me, pointing at the blasted hellscape I was sitting in the center off. “This was a horrible accident with my new powers. Anybody stupid enough to threaten my or mine I will be very intentionally angry at. Need I say more?”

He straightened his back a little, doing his best to look me in the eye despite the heat and the distance. “…Ma’am, with all due respect… I have no such plans, and to any stupid enough to suggest it to my face I intend to show Akira…"

I let out a small, dark chuckle at that, not bothering with turning the royal voice off.

To my amusement it echoed strangely in my fiery pit.

The Commander just pressed on, not even faced. “May I make a small preemptive request of you holding back enough if such a horrible thing does come to pass as to not break the world? I realize it may be too much to ask, but I kind of like this pale blue dot of ours...”

I gave a small grunt at that, reeling my emotions in. The man with balls that clanked when he walks had a point. He must have heard it, because he nodded and I saw some tension bleed from his shoulders.

Back to business, then. “This offer of yours… If I say no, then…?”

“We will of course politely inquire if you may at least consider the role of freelancing consultant. If not even that is to your liking, we will politely go away.”

My eyebrow rose again, but in disbelief this time. “Nothing more?”

I saw his teeth again. “We might of course ask polity in the future if you have reconsidered your position on the subject… but nothing more. We have no intentions of antagonizing somebody that may throw skyscrapers like others throw javelins. If hiding away in this place is all you desire, I see no reason to not encourage that.”

I was silent at that. The black vans and black choppers I’d been a bit afraid of when this mess had started had shown up…

And their Commander was not only treating me like an adult, but was also being polite while doing so.

And he was offering me a job.

A small part of me was screaming “What the everloving fuck? This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen!” but I fought it down.

He gave me another polite nod. “You need not answer now. But please, consider it.”

I just sank down on my stomach, feeling bone weary again. “…What happens now?”

He pointed at the flames. “We can’t make heads or tails of these flames. According to our instruments they keep shifting temperatures without rhyme or reason. We’ve even gotten a few reading of them being in the negatives. You have any idea what they are?”

I gave them a look, hoping for the quickening of a memory, but none came. “Sorry, not a clue. I was completely out of it when it happened. It might be literal hellfire, for all I know.”

He grew still for a moment, before just giving a shrug. “Well, hopefully pouring enough water on it will work. It is more or less what I can do about it, at the moment…”

A note of bitterness had made it into the Commanders voice towards the end, but I pretended not to notice. I could sympathize with a man suddenly out of his dept.

I swept my eyes around, taking in the strange flames, the horribly smelling crater and my own mostly equine and mare shaped body lying unscratched in the middle of it all.

It is not a pleasant feeling.

“Anyway,” he continued. “I have your word that you intend to cooperate, then? Forgive me for asking since you seem a polite young woman and I realize this is just as frightening to you as us, if not even more so… but it would make my higher-ups much less worried about this. I hope you understand?”

I gave the man a nod. “You don’t fire anything at me, and I will return the favor.”

He nodded, flashing me another smile. Judging from how wicked it looked he had spotted my unsaid promise of the opposite. Good. “I am very pleased to hear that, Mrs. Sparkle. Do you have any objections to me calling in the fire-brigade? It seems the simplest solution, but will no doubt lead to them asking questions…”

The unsaid question hung in the air. I bit my lip as I thought it over.

Did I want people to know about me? It would make certain things easier and others so much harder…

The Commander noticed my hesitation. “If you prefer, I may call in the equivalent from a military source to keep this more discreet… but they will probably not be here until tomorrow in that case. “

Ugh, more choices. That one sounded kind of good, but I would be stuck in this pit for longer…

Then I spotted the blade with which that particular knot might be cut. “Mr. Shade?”

“Yes?”

“I think I’m recovered enough to get out of here on my own. Would you care to trust me enough to allow me to get to one of the other irrigation ponds on the property?”

He hesitated for a moment. “…You are aware, that you are hot enough at the moment to burn people to death with a hug?”

I gave a shrug, exaggerating it enough for him to see it. “All the more reason to ask you for permission to try the idea. If you see a flaw in it, I would gladly hear it.”

He stroked his stubbly chin again. “…I must admit, it is an elegant solution that would allow us to both continue our negotiations in a more civilized form and leave this pit for later…” He raised his hand with one finger pointing towards the heavens. “But two conditions. You will follow the lead of me and my men, and if you try to approach them they will be allowed to defend themselves. Is this acceptable?”

“Is it alright if I fly or levitate? I would rather not start any grass fires…”

He gave a nod. “I see no harm in it, but please let me clear a path and inform my men first to avoid misunderstandings. May I ask where this pond you intend to dive into is located?”

“Just the other end of the field. Sorry, I’d point, but I got turned around by… Well, all this.”

He gave another nod. “I believe I saw it on the way here. Very well, just give me a few moments…”

I nodded back, before resting my head on my hooves. I perked my ears though. He seemed trustworthy, but that is the easy bit.

To the disappointment of the part of me that has always loved trashy spy novels, he just gave the info to his subordinates and before long, a few soldiers were back to act as escort.

He gave me a thumbs up. “Ready when you are, Mrs. Sparkle.”

I got on my hooves again. I was still a bit shaky, but the strength was already returning to my limbs.

I experimentally flapped my wings a few times, but I might just as well have done it with my hooves. No traction at all. I had kind of figured that with all the heat and fire, but considering the magical nature of it all I thought I should try.

I tried levitating myself instead. With all the magic in the air that was almost insultingly easy instead. I quickly had a stable spell going around me and just drifted out of the pit.

I landed at the opposite edge just to avoid any misunderstandings…

And only then did I notice how black it was. Middle of the night black. I had been down there for at least a whole day.

Granted, with the military presence it kind of made sense…

“You were unconscious for almost three days, Mrs. Sparkle. We were just about to try pouring enough coolant down there for us to drag you out…”

I turned to the man and his… bodyguards, I guess. He was once more using the megaphone, more or less proving that it was more for his men, then me.

Seeing him as little more than a silhouette made me realize something more.

There was a lot of lights and gear around, but there wasn’t a single spotlight pointed at the pit. It was still shining as bright as day, all by itself.

I looked down. Small curls of smoke where escaping from the battered soil under my glowing hooves. Now when I was away from the pit, I looked more like a silhouette of living light, then a pony.

I thought for a moment if I should say my following sentence, but honesty won out. “…Did you try checking for radioactivity?”

The shadow I knew to be General Shade, oh the irony, throw out his arms. “Nothing but background. It was one of the first things we checked when we saw that glow. Thank you for your concern, though. It means a lot to me and my men.”

I gave a nod, before lifting myself again. I could barely see the purple tint to my form now that I was away from the pit, but I lifted without incident.

“…O-K, that just looks fucking freaky…” one of the soldiers mumbled, his hands trembling slightly on his rifle. I probably wouldn’t have noticed normally, but I saw the outline of the barrel dance, outlined in the light.

The General hushed him, but it made me imagine it from the soldiers’ perspective.

A figure made from blinding light just rising from a blackened pit where strange flames danced…

Where have I heard that one before?

I let out a chuckle. “So, would anybody of you be mortally offended if I made a joke about souls or contracts in blood?”

That actually got a few laughs from the soldiers. Mr. Shade just facepalmed though.

I took that as a sign of encouragement and floated up a bit out over the pit, spreading my wings and front-hooves wide over my head and rasping out in the creepiest voice I could muster: “The devil hath power, To assume a pleasing shape.”

Then I pulled my limbs in and gave out the most cackling evil sounding enhanced laugh I could muster.

The sight some of the soldiers taking steps back made me laugh normally so hard I lost concentration, in turn causing me to fall bouncing and cursing back into my pit.

I lay in a heap at the bottom, shaking my head. Falling into a fiery pit after making a joke about being the devil… When did my life start running on irony?

The soldiers were laughing so hard a few had to take a couple of steps back, just to not follow my example.

Even the General had joined them this time.

It amused me that I could see them again and clearly at that. My new eyes must have a scary wide field of light ranges they worked in… Or perhaps I was completely blinded in the pit, and my mind and magic senses were working in tandem to offer me this? An intriguing though, but one I had neither the time nor resources to test.

I opted to just float out again. Dignity be damned.

General Shade bit back his laughter and hushed his men. “You all right, Mrs. Sparkle? Sorry for laughing, but…”

I just waved him and his apology off. “No problem. My own fault for trying to laugh like a loon and levitate at the same time. It was almost a given.”

I pointed at the other pond. It was only a blacker spot in the night, but I knew the way. “But shall we? If what you’re telling me is true, then I haven’t had as much as a drink for three days. I would really like to get something to eat and some proper sleep…”

He pointed with his whole arm as well, before starting to lead his men a bit away. “You may lead the way.”

I drifted straight for the pond, keeping a leisurely pace as to not frighten, but not seeing much reason to go around the glowing hole I’d apparently slept in for a bit less than seventy-two hours. The rising thermal made my hair, tail, feathers and fur dance in a delightful way, but it honestly didn’t feel that warm.

I’d gone to Las Vegas a few times, and this reminded me more of a desert wind, then the thermal from an open pit of flame, to be blunt.

Them, just for my hubris, I hit the cold night air beyond the pit. I tumbled down again, my concentration broken.

It felt as if I had jumped headfirst into a bucket of ice.

I scrambled to my hooves, drawing shallow breaths as I shivered from the feel. I had to sit down on my haunches and try to steel myself.

I hate to admit it, but part of me just wanted to crawl back to my cozy little pit and just sleep there until it cooled.

The General and his entourage came jogging towards me. “Mrs. Sparkle, are you alright?”

He was close enough that he had stopped using the megaphone, so I returned the favor by not using the voice.

I gave a nod, my teeth rattling as I shivered. “C-c-cold!” Was all I managed to get out.

I tensed slightly as he slid a hand into a pocket, but I untensed as soon as I saw that it was simply an industrial IR thermometer. He pointed it at me, it giving off a tiny beep that was soon followed by a low whistle from the man himself.

“W-w-what?” I stuttered out.

“I must congratulate you, Mrs. Sparkle…” He replaced the thermometer into his pocket as he spoke. “…You’ve just shattered the world record for highest temperature survivable by even microorganisms. You just might get a pic in the history books for this…”

I tilted my head in puzzlement. The distraction from the freezing air was making it harder to think, but not that hard. “D-d-didn’t you s-s-“

He held up a hand, cutting me off. “We thought your magic might be shielding you by somehow negotiating the temperature around you.” He nodded to my still glowing form. “But it appears you’ve kept the temperature of the pit, thus invalidating that theory…”

“H-h-hypothesis.” I corrected automatically.

A few of the soldiers barked out laughs at that. I even heard one of them mutter: “Yup. That’s Twilight, alright…”

But Mr. Shade just waved it off. “I know my skills and limits. Science has always been one of the later… But shall we get you that dip, Mrs.?”

I shuddered a bit harder at the thought of jumping into the water, considering what shivers just the night air was giving me… but he had a point.

As much a part of me wondered how long I might milk being the literally hottest girl in town just for puns… I was currently a danger to all around me. The sooner I got cooled down, the sooner they could start treating my more like a person, and less like The Blob’s cousin made from napalm.

“I-I-Is it O-O-OK if I t-t-t-teleport? I w-w-want this o-o-o-over with…” I stuttered out.

“One moment,” he said.

He activated his walkie-talkie again, and started talking into his headset. “Mrs. Sparkle intends to teleport the rest of the way. Do not be alarmed at the sudden crack or light. Over.”

His earpiece crackled to life again with what sounded like a string of the words “Yes, Sir!”

It soon grew silent once more. “Ready when you are.”

I didn’t need more encouragement than that. I raised my head, focused on a spot straight over the pond…

And with a yanking sensation and a flash I was there.

I barely had time to draw a deep breath and think: This is going to suck! Before I hit the water.

The water was so cold it felt like it was burning. I tried to swim to the surface, but the water was turning to steam against me, making me sink to the bottom like a rock.

For a moment memories from this life flooded me. Of creaking ice, a sudden plunge and a freezing dark that drove the air from my lungs…

I almost panicked.

But then I remembered the feel of air just appearing in my lungs and calmed down even before I hit the bottom.

If anything might kill me on this world so burning with magic, then I could not imagine it being a tiny pond and some water.

Not anymore.

I just settled down on top of the soft silt… and took the time to think a little bit.

Where they being honest with me… or did they want a magic attack dog?

I looked up. The surface was already swarming with searchlights. The bubbles of steam dancing towards the surface and the light made a sight beautiful enough I wished I had a camera.

I could actually feel the water warm, as I cooled. I had to blink my eyes, as a sudden dark came to the place as I stopped glowing.

I experimentally moved a hoof in front of my face. I could still feel heated water rising from it and me, but it was water now, not steam.

I took this as a sign to get to the surface before they started diving in to drag me out.

Or would they?

The thought made me pause mid-stroke. I had survived that pit for almost three days, after all… Perhaps they were just as sure of my survival?

Anyway, not important. I had no intention to test that, so the point was moot. I resumed my efforts and with only a few strokes more I broke the surface. I took a deep breath, but it was more for old habit then need…

That made me pause, even as every portable spotlight focused on me.

It didn’t even make me blink. The flood of light just stopped me from seeing what was behind its source.

And all that made me realize something.

I really wasn't human anymore. Fucking hell, I might not be mortal anymore.

How do you react to such a revelation? Do you scream with joy? Sink to your knees weeping?

Part of me was amused, that I mostly just wanted to go home and snuggle with my wife.

I let out sigh. But I don’t think I’m getting that anytime soon…

I swam in a small circle, before spotting a bit of shore without blinding white on it. I started breast stroking towards it and soon made landfall.

I gave a doggy shake, trading a bit of dignity for practicality. I expected laughs, but none came.

The place was dead quiet. I guess somepony actually doing the walking out of fire cliché in real-life will get anybody's attention.

I gave myself a once over… and was uncertain if I should be happy or disgusted.

Now, for somebody that had been unconscious in a hole so hot it was glowing I looked great…

But by normal standards I was a mess. A hot mess, but still. Details.

Bits of badly cooked or even burned earth clung to me in patches, making it almost look like I was wearing part of some shoddy sort of ceramic armor.

My ethereal mane and tail that normally was about as likely to interact with stuff without me willing it, as an politician is likely to take a vow of poverty, had somehow tied itself into two giant knots and was practically filled with debris.

I experimentally put my hoof in front of my face, blew out a breath and took a sniff… Huh, nothing. I felt my teeth with my tongue and they didn’t even feel grimy. I guess having the plaque boil away makes one hell of a toothpaste substitute…

I looked back… and almost winced when I saw my wings. There were feathers sticking out in all sort of angles everywhere. Some of the feathers even looked near mangled. I had no trouble believing I’d been unconscious for a couple of days after seeing them. I almost sat down and started preening, right then and there.

I fought down the impulse and opted instead to turn the biggest group of flashlights and gave a big grin. “So, how’s this as far as ‘We can rebuild him, we have the technology’ goes?”

General Shade stalked out of the light, giving a slow clap as he did. “Most impressive. I wouldn’t have minded a couple of soldiers capable of that back in Iraq…”

“Now imagine insurgents with that power, and energy-beams from their foreheads that you need to maim them to disarm…” I countered in a soft voice.

The lights danced as the group, including the General, shuddered. The General gave me a long look after that. “…So you do understand why I’m so keen on acquiring an expert, then?”

My mouth felt dry, as I all too easily could imagine it from his point of view.

He suddenly looked far older, and very, very tired. “I’m supposed to lead the best this world has to offer to deal with any new threats that might come because of these new phenomena… And at the moment, I have two choices in how to deal with them all. Two. I will be blunt, it scares the hell out of me, Mrs. Sparkle.”

I felt guilty that I wasn’t rushing to aid him. He just sounded so… sincere. But I have family. “May I ask what two? I think I know, but I want to hear them, anyway…”

He lifted his arms from his sides in a hopeless gesture. “Ask politely… or unload all barrels. Nothing in-between, at the moment.”

His arms dropped, but the sense of hopelessness he near radiated remained. “…No matter if I’m dealing with a would be dark lord… or a scared kid, having a surge from the horn he or she didn’t have a few days ago. “ He nodded at me. “Or a polite young mare that did her best when her powers went out of line, but still caused enough damage for it to look like ground zero of a concentrated napalm strike…”

My head turned off its own volition towards the pit. It was glowing so bright I could see it even though the portable floodlights.

All jokes aside, the damn thing did look like a slice of hell had burst forth on earth.

I blinked a few tears away. It was… far too easy for me, to imagine the blackened skeleton of the farm in the middle of all that. If I hadn’t pulled off that teleport…

I just turned my head back to him, suddenly feeling like I made a huge mistake in not snoozing in that pit… “Mr. Shade? Can we continue this at the farm? I… feel like I’ve seen enough of this place to last several lifetimes… and I would like to inspect the damage to my home.”

His face suddenly turned soft, something I did not expect to ever seen in the old man’s features. He kind of reminded me of my father actually, one of those men that just kept getting tougher and tougher as they aged…

The sudden flash of humanity cheered me up a bit, I must admit.

“I see no problem with it,” he said. “Are you well enough to travel?”

I was just about to say yes, when a wave of fatigue swept me, forcing my down on my hunches. I guess this had brought me to my limit anyway. “…I wouldn’t mind a stretcher.” I offered weakly.

General Shade fished out his thermometer again, nodding at what he saw. “A bit more than sixty-five Celsius. I wouldn’t recommend any hugs just yet, but a very good sign…”

I quickly did the math in my head. 65 x 9/5 + 32 equals…

“I’m a hundred-forty-nine degrees?!” I blurted out.

The General flashed me smile. “The center of that pit is hot enough to glow, Mrs. Sparkle. What did you expect?”

“But my fucking blood should be boiling my mind!” I shouted near hysterically.

He just tilted his head before answering in a calm voice. “Yes. Yes, it should. See why I’m so keen on getting your answer?”

He nodded to the pit, before he continued talking in a calm and slow, but slightly distant voice. As if the words were traveling from somewhere deep within him and he was not certain if he should let them fly. “…I’ve seen men die screaming in flames, Mrs. Sparkle. Many times. Most of them enemies, a few but still too many where friends and comrades... and my heart broke every time I could not help save a civilian from that fate. It is not a good end, Mrs. Sparkle. The only thing worse than hearing the screams are where your mind treads when they stop. Even if you may teach us nothing but how your body ignored that inferno, it would still be a grand thing.”

His distant eyes lingered on the glow of the flames awhile longer, before turning back to me. “I joined the service long ago, because in the hubris of a young man’s mind it sounded like the best way a poor farmer’s son might make a difference…”

His eyes unfocused, lost in memory. For just a moment I saw the image of a young white pelted and blue maned stallion overlaying his face. Looking just as serious, and having just uttered similar words…

The small flash of remembrance almost broke my heart and made me sag crying down… but I fought the feelings down and continued listening instead.

It seemed clear he was saying this for just as much his sake, as for mine. He took his helmet off, and pulled a gloved hand through his graying hair.

His men were barely breathing.

He gave me a long look with his tired eyes, letting me get a proper look on his face for the first time. A small well-trimmed mustache, high cheekbones and a long, thin slightly hooked nose served as the centerpieces of his long, creased face…

Aside from a slight dark tint to his color that suggested a mixed ancestry and his accent, I would have thought him a stereotypical English gentleman, rather than a South-African Commander and General.

He must have needed two sticks to beat the ladies off, once at a time… Now he mostly looked old and worn.

But it was the old and worn of a rifle stock, or the hilt of a sable, or a cavalry saddle… that had been pressed into service again and again…

And answered the call, every time.

He held up his gloved hands at was waist high for him and eye height for me, and opened and closed them a few times, palms up.

“I will not pretend it has not cost me…” He kept looking at his clenching hands as he spoke, a strange mix of pride and loss in his eyes, even as I heard the whirring of tiny electric motors and realized what that meant. “…but I would like to think, that yes, I have made a difference… Is that not all one may ask, in the end?”

He let his arms drop to his side, before walking over to me on legs that whirred and clicked softly enough even my ears barely heard it, as he walked.

From morbid curiosity, I extended the earth-pony part of my awareness and magic towards the man as he got closer…

And to my mind’s eye, he lit up like a boulevard on a Thanksgiving parade held at night.

He had tiny pieces of metal inside him, lodged almost everywhere… Dulled with age and biological buildup, but they must have been tiny razors when new.

And he didn’t have a single spark of life in any of his limbs. Just metal, plastic and thunder, bound together and to him, to let him stalk his next foe despite what cruel fate might will otherwise.

I sensed a tiny spark reach his battered and scarred heart, and followed it to its source with my inner eye. A tiny thing, no bigger than a novelty coin, was nestled near it.

The pacemaker gave his heart another jolt as I watched.

The implications were not lost on me. His very heart continued beating because he had willed it. A healer had simply aided in that task.

I felt… conflicted, at the sight.

A tiny part I had started to see as my ‘inner pony’ was disgusted by the sight. It saw no Harmony in this prolongation of a proud warrior’s suffering and decline. He should have been either been healed or allowed to return home or even fade, not be turned into this to once more stalk the killing fields…

But the rest? The big part that was getting annoyed at all this pony and flashes of memory and insight, nonsense… The one that wanted nothing but to get my life back on track?

Simply soared with fierce pride at the sight. The man was half-buried already, and this had not stopped him. It had barely slowed him down.

And he could still look down on his near shattered form with pride, because to him it had been worth it.

Because he had done his best. And if whatever gatekeeper he met when he joined the rest of his body in the ground disagreed, he would punch the creature in the nuts and stroll on in anyway.

He stopped right in front of me, extending his right hand before him. His smile was warm and infectious enough I felt my mouth twitch despite all that had happened.

An excited murmur rose from the ranks, as the men realized what their Commander was trying to do. Really trying, not just saying pretty words.

“What do you say, Mrs. Twilight Sparkle?” he said with his offered hand not even trembling despite knowing exactly what I was a capable off. His eyes twinkling, and once more reflecting a fire only his eyes could see.

His smile grew a bit wider. “Want to help me make the world a better place?”

Author's Note

I didn't think about it before, but this thing is actually long enough by now to count as my first novel... :yay:

Chapter 10 - A Farmer And Her Blasted Plot, Part Three

Chapter Ten - A Farmer And Her Blasted Plot, Part Three

I just stared at the offered hand.

Utterly conflicted, because no matter what I chose, I knew I would regret not having done the other.

My ears dropped, as I realized the sad truth that no matter the stirring speech… “I am so, so sorry, Mr. Shade… but appearances aside I’m a married man with a kid. As tempting as it is, I simply can’t make that choice alone… You understand, I hope?”

His smile faltered a bit and his men gave out a disappointed sigh…

But I had my hoof up before he could let his hand drop. “But I would still like to shake hands with a man that can give such a speech. I hope this is good enough, for now?”

The Generals smile grew wide again as he took my hoof, and I even heard a few bit back shouts of “Squeeee!” from the men.

We gave each other a gentle shake. I didn’t want to hurt his prosthesis, and I think he didn’t want to insult or accidently hurt me.

Besides. He was walking around without real limbs. I had just snoozed in the next best thing to a volcano. What did either of us have to prove?

“You’re somebody that doesn’t want to rush in, then?” His smile grew a little more. “Or is it the wrath of the missus you fear?”

I grinned proudly. “Oh, a bit of both. You haven’t actually met my wife, then?”

He tilted his head. “…I got the impression she have gone through a similar transformation, but I must admit I never got her name…”

I rubbed my hooves together and gave out a giggle that earned me a raised eyebrow from the man. “Let us say that I was a very happy man, before I became a very happy mare… and leave it at that.”

His other eyebrow found its mate on the man’s forehead.

I just let out a chuckle at the sight. “Since I can’t imagine that you intent to let me out of your sight just yet and since you’ve all but promised that they are alright… Well, I imagine I will get to make introductions soon enough… But how about that stretcher?” I finished by giving my most radiant innocent smile.

Shade’s men snickered.

He himself looked at me for a few moments more… but then he just shrugged, before he started making arrangements through his walkie-talkie.

I took the opportunity to sink down on my stomach again, with my head on my fore-legs and wings sprawled to my sides. I must have looked a strange mix of adorable and pathetic, but it felt really nice to just let go and spread out a bit.

The sand was just so… comfy.

I swear I only blinked, but when my eyes opened again I had a small group of MT’s standing around nearby.

The General was talking softly to one of them, but his once more helmeted head whipped around as I lifted my head. “Ah, welcome back to the waking world. I was just speaking with Corporal Higgs. He has a small moral quandary about treating you… I was just about to wake you. Would you mind speaking with him?”

I shoot the young man an inquiring look. He gulped and gave me a small salute. “Forgive me, ma’am. I’m Joseph Higgs, formerly of the U.S army veterinary corps…”

My ears flickered in annoyance. I think I can see where these disturbing sets of circumstances are going…

He let out a small laugh, but soon got serious again. “Well, I know you’ve had a long day, so I’ll be brief. I don’t mind performing emergency triage if there’s no other choice… But I don’t feel it is my place to treat somebody, if you follow…”

I blinked at that. Huh, I was worried about white gloves and my cooch. Guess I was wrong…

I looked a bit groggy at the other medical professionals, giving them a nod. “And let me guess. They don’t feel qualified to treat somepony. Am I close?”

He coughed into his hand, looking embarrassed. “Got it in one, ma’am.”

I thought a few moments about lifting his own hand to give him a smack… but I opted to just roll my eyes, instead. He looked a bit irritated. “I take it your old posting was one of those ceremonial Cavalry units?”

He gave me a nod.

“Well then, unless you’ve got somebody squirreled away that turned into Nurse Red-heart, or similar… then that makes you the closest thing to the local expert. Not to be rude, but I suggest you deal with things accordingly.”

He squirmed a bit, but gave no counter.

“Is it really so horrible to be able to say ‘Where does it hurt?’” I got a reluctant shake for that.

I continued. “Well, then suggest you come over here and do the damn job you were brought in specifically to do.” He blanched a bit at my harsh words. I got a few snickers, but most were just nodding slowly. “If that is too morally questionable, then I hope you enjoyed your brief stay here in Kansas, because I don’t think you’re getting to stay for much longer…”

I grinned wickedly at the now a little pale Corporal. “Or you could come over here, give me that check-up and then pass your notes on to the doctors you think should be doing this. Perhaps even gaining a commendation for figuring out such alien anatomy… Which future do you prefer?”

Higgs looked pleading at the Commander, but he just gave a small chuckle. “Don’t look at me, boy. You just lost an argument with a purple winged unicorn. I suggest you man up while you still can…”

“You forget the part about the Princess of Maagiiiic!” I sang out, making Higgs ears burn and a soft laugh rise from the others assembled.

He grumbled a bit, but he finally stalked off to get his gear.

He was back quickly, still grumbling a bit, but at least he tried to act somewhat professional.

He started by shining a penlight in my eyes. It was irritating, but other then that... “...Well, according to this you're either dead or on enough drugs that you’ll soon be.”

I rolled my eyes, as another snicker erupted around us. “Or alternatively... I’m a freak.”

“No. Surely not,” He said with almost a straight face to the purple winged unicorn.

This time I actually joined in the snickering… even if mine came out as a tired giggle. “Look, Mr. How about we simply say that everything that should be attached still seems to be so… and call it a night. I’m exhausted.”

Higgs closed his bag, while giving off a thoughtful hum. “...Might be for the best. I’d learn more from the tests if you're at least closer to well rested and unstressed…”

I waved the man off, as he stalked away, presumingly to get some rest.

General Shade took the opportunity, by walking over and handing me a piece of paper. “Would you mind if we took a few blood and tissue samples? As a hybrid between the subgroups you might offer us great insight into pony physiology and biology…”

I lifted it from his hands with my magic and read it properly. With my new eyes and the gleam from the magic I had no problem doing so, despite the gloom. I didn’t feel like skimming something like this.

It seemed a common enough research contract… compensation for samples, nothing more. It had a few extra zeros added to the compensation part of it to sweeten the deal...

So why was a tiny part of me screaming about preserving state secrets? And not for the US, at that…

“Interesting,” I stated in a plain, even voice. Far more restrained then I suddenly felt. “It seems the mental part of this transformation doesn’t want me to give you this. It is trying to compel me not to agree to these tests under any circumstances.”

You could have suddenly heard a pin drop.

I did not even bother with a pen. I simply channeled part of my fury into a pinpoint of heat, and made it spell out:

George Wright. AKA Twilight Sparkle.

I felt a small, unimportant part of me scream in frustration, anger… and dread. I ignored it.

If my ‘inner pony’ was what I thought it was… then it was a faded relic. Nothing but a mental echo of a life I wanted little with.

If it was not, then it was a treat to all of humanity. Including my darling little boy.

And I would rather rip the head of ‘Celestia’ herself then have my body turned to a weapon meant to strike at him, or even others.

The presence whimpered at my silent resolution, but made no ‘counter.’

...But it was interesting, how it seemed to agree with the part about my boy.

I floated the paper over to the slightly stunned commander. He grabbed it gingerly, as if he was holding a relic of great renown.

An amused part of me noted that perhaps one day, the scrap of paper would be just that.

He looked up, into my eyes that felt hard enough to cut glass.

“For the moment my will is still my own, Mr. Shade. I would very much like you and your experts help in keeping it that way. I find the implications of the ‘Twilight’ persona trying to ‘reestablish’ herself more than a bit troubling, don’t you?”

He nodded slowly, even as an aid darted over to take the form to be processed. “..May I ask what you meant by…?”

I thought it over, my brow furrowed in thought. “…It is somewhere in-between a tiny voice at the edge of my mind… and a feel that I should act a certain way. Does that make sense?”

He stroked his chin. “…Do you believe it may be some manner of thought control technique?”

I throw my arms and wings up in frustration. “I was fucking glowing from heat! Anybody or thing with that kind of tech-level should just be able to stomp cities themselves! This damn thing doesn’t make a bit of sense!”

He hummed thoughtfully, still stroking his stubble.

I lowered my limb, except for a purple hoof I held up as example. “To be... blunt, I do not think that this is an attack of some… foreign intelligence with a cruel sense of humor. Even then, there are far more fitting choices for powers and shapes to grant, especially if the subjects mind may truly be influenced so deeply…”

He gave me a nod, as an angry and worried murmur rose from those assembled.

“…But I have a son.” I continued in a careful voice. The small temporary camp grew silent again. “For my conscience to be clean, I must think of this as the worst possible thing it could be. In this case, this means believing that if I am not careful in my vigil… Then I will simply fall asleep and something elsewill wake in my stead. I will not allow that.”

Shade turned to his nearest aid. “Would you please bring, Mrs. Twilight one of the laptops with the interviews and other materials? I believe she needs to see them…”

“Huh?” Was all I could think to say.

The aid started protesting, but Shade gave the man a glare and simply stated in a voice of steel. “Mrs. Twilight just all but swore herself to our service. Against aliens. She also could if she felt so inclined, simply have killed us all by dragging us into that infernal pit. If I must show her some papers my incompetent ‘superiors’ have so far seen so ludicrous as to not even put a security clearance on to make her if not join us, then at least stop her from doing anything foolish… than I will do so. Am I clear?”

The aid hesitated. General Shade simply continued, not even raising his voice. “I will deliver it verbally to her if I must. Am. I. Clear?”

“But, Sir…!”

Shade just shook his head and walked away from the man, looking disgusted. He came stalking towards me.

I simply calmly waited for him to say his piece.

But he paused, as the lackey finally figured out where the wind was blowing and darted off. Shade just let out a deep sigh.

He muttered under his breath: “…Fucking paper pushers…” But it was so low, I think only I heard it.

He straightened, looking a bit grimmer, but somehow kinder at the same time. It was a strange juxtaposition, but he somehow pulled it off. “Do you want me to give the short version?”

“…I take it you have info that some of your higher-ups do not want to become common knowledge yet?”

He nodded at me. “A common thread to the stories so far…” He hesitated for just a moment. “...and something of a complication.”

I pointed my hoof at myself. He gave another nod. “Yes… but I would prefer the sources speak for themselves.” He shot a glare after where the aid had darted off. “If I need to read and sign the thrice damned things, then they may as well be of use…”

I let out a yawn that almost dislocated my jaw. “…Mr. Shade, please just tell me. I can respect you wanting me to form my own opinions, but I am very tired and would like this day to end soon…”

He sat down on the ground near me and fished out a pipe from one of his pockets. “…Very well. Short version? Five score, divided by four…”

Suddenly it felt like something was scraping the inside of my mind, trying to rise to the forefront of it. I had to wince and cover my head with my hooves until it passed.

By the time I’d come back to my senses, he’d already finished stuffing his pipe and the smell of cherry tobacco had started filling the air.

He let out a puff after a long drag, face content. “I know I shouldn’t considering how little is left of me… But if anything is more calming than a pipe after a long day, I have not found it.”

He offered the pipe towards me, but I turned it down by raising a hoof. “Thank you, but I’m more of a coffee achiever.”

He gave a chuckle at that. “Aren’t we all?” He nodded to the pipe. “Can’t always lean back and light up, if you follow… But a cup doesn’t glow in the dark, you understand?”

His pipe had some kind of decoration on it, making me curious. That, and I was looking for things to distract me from the way those simple words earlier had crawled around like ants in my head. “I understand. But what is that on your pipe? It seems familiar…”

He barked out a laugh. “The missus attempt at a joke gift that turned out a bit… ironic.” He took a drag to keep the embers going, before holding it up. “Want to take a look?”

I carefully lifted the tiny thing with my magic and made it float over into my hooves.

The thing was big and sturdy for a pipe, a few dings but nothing serious. It had obviously traveled far and seen much use, but been well cared for. An oak mouthpiece and bowl carved from meerschaum. It was made in the traditional style of somebodies head with a hole in the top and the rest of it curving up a bit from the back.

But this particular one didn’t have somebody as its source of inspiration.

The thing looked like a cartoony unicorn, grinning at something. Her mane formed the stem and the top of her head would tilt open if you pushed on her horn.

Shade was grinning again. “Slightest chance you would care to sign it? The missus would freak out, at that…”

The thing had my face.

I was genuinely uncertain if I should declare it the coolest thing ever… or smash it for being an abomination using the nearest rock.

I opted to just float it over again, trying not to look to closely when he flipped the skull of my smiling simulacrum open with a thumb.

He just gave a laugh at my squirming.

I gave a grunt in turn, as I passed my hoof through my neglected mane. Trying to get some of the grime out of it. “…Sorry, it’s very well-made and I realize that you must be proud of it… but the likeness is freaking me out, to be blunt.”

His face lit up in a smile. “Why, thank you.” He tapped the pipe gently with a finger. The act made a slight metal on stone sound I pretended not to notice. “My darling wife makes a living on things like this.”

“She’s a sculptor?” I asked, and got a nod in turn.

His face lit with pride. “Yup. And a damn good one…” He shook the pipe out against his leg, before replacing it in his pocket and stomping out the ashes.

He then started looking a bit more serious. “…but haven’t we dodged the important thing enough?”

My ears fell, but I gave a nod. “…Fine. What was that? It felt like something was poking my in the brain with a cactus…”

Shade started answering, but just then the scowling aid come up with a military laptop. “Ah, even better. I can just show you instead.” He tapped a few buttons and made a few swipes on the track pad with a finger, before just setting it down on the ground between us, facing me.

The screen showed a paused clip with a tall, pale, rake-thin man sitting on a couch and with his hands behind his back, and a logo I didn’t recognize in the corner. It looked like two bolts of thunder crossed with a cartoony grin in the middle.

Shade hovered a finger over the enter button. “This was released late on the same day you had your accident. By a LP channel on YouTube, of all things…”

I blinked in confusion. “A what?”

He waved his other hand, as if waving off the whole thing. “People with too much free time playing through games on camera and trying to be funny while doing so. Frankly, I don’t get it… but that isn’t the important bit.” He pushed the button. “Just watch.”

I focused on the clip.

The pale man gave a wide grin at the camera, before nodding once, making the sunglasses he was wearing bob slightly. He began to speak in a dark voice with a slight accent I didn’t recognize, but sounded vaguely European. “Greetings, people of the series of tubes! Fear not my awesome visage, for I bring great tidings!”

I looked up at the Shade and gave him a disbelieving look, but he just pointed at the screen and murmured with a slight smile: “From babes and fools…”

I gave a shrug that sent some of my more battered feathers flying off into the night, before looking back down…

And I nearly choked on my own spit.

The man had held up his arms, hands spread wide… and one of them was glowing with a dark purple aura.

The man was using magic.

He was grinning so wide that I almost saw flashes of his tonsils. He pointed at his gloving hand with his other, and continued. “Now, most of you are probably calling shenanigans’ on this…” He pointed to the side of the screen with both hands, like a performer introducing somebody.

His eyes sparkled when he next spoke. “So without further ado… My dear co-host back after her regrettable absence, a performer of much renown in her own right, who just might be the foremost expert in the rarest field of expertise on this Earth…”

The man started clapping in a one-man applaud. My jaw hit my forelegs and my eyes nearly popped out when I saw who trotted into focus.

“My oldest and dearest friend! My partner in crime!” He swept his arms towards the slightly see-through pony that had joined him on the couch, grinning even wider then he was.

“Trixie Lulamoon!” He gave another clap, as Trixie gave a theatrical bow to the camera. “As close to in the flesh as she has managed!”

Trixie nodded once more to the camera. “Thank you, thank you, everybody and everypony… and all other fans as well, of course! Trixie wishes you to know how great it feels to once more stand before an audience. Especially one as faithful and refined one, such as you!”

I just couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

“Now,” the man began, pointing at his ghostly co-host. “Longtime viewers will no doubt remember Trixie…”

Guilt flashed across the blue mare’s face, but she just as quickly fought it down.

She instead focused straight at the camera. “Trixie hopes any fans may forgive her small fib of pretending to be a simple ventriloquist act and persona…”

The man interjected: “For the record, I have already done so. No hate-mail on my behalf, please.”

Trixie flashed the man a warm smile. “Why, thank you, Morgan. That was sweet of you.”

“Not like it will help, but it was worth a shot…” ‘Morgan’ muttered, but Trixie just turned back to the camera.

“Now, Trixie…”

Morgan gave a small cough.

“…and her darling assistance M-“

The man gave a louder cough.

Trixie paused for a moment. “Oh, Trixie misspoke. She of course meant chief lackey...”

Morgan lifted a long, spindly leg onto the couch and gave Trixie a light kick straight on her cutie mark, making me wince and her yelp, respectfully.

Trixie rolled her eyes, while rubbing her mark with a hoof. “Fine. Her violent brute of a partner, Morgan…”

“Damn straight,” he answered smiling.

Trixie took a deep breath… then she blinked and let it out, glaring at Morgan. “Oh, for buck’s sake, Morgan! You and your little stunt made Trixie lose her train of thought!”

Morgan gave a shrug, before turning to the camera. Pointing at his gloving hand. “One, yes, this is magic. Two, Trixie and I are working on testing this, but we are at present unsure if this is a sign that humans have magic, or if it is simply a rare early symptom of ponification brought about by my rather unique link with Trixie…”

He lowered his hands, flashing a smile at the mare. She returned it.

He turned back to the camera, once more grinning like a fox in a chicken-coop. “Oh, and that is not the important part. Not at the moment.” He turned to the other side of the screen, the opposite of the one Trixie had entered from. “Your cue, Edith.”

A green pelted mare that I almost didn’t recognize walked in. Without the name, I probably wouldn’t have. She was just too… young.

Granny Smith jumped up between the two. An awkward smile on her… and not a single wrinkle. She didn’t look a day over twenty.

She looked over to Morgan. Her smile was a bit waxen, and her eyes too wide. “Do I really need to do this?”

He just gave her an encouraging clap on her shoulder. “You’re the one that had the memory that allowed us to figure this out. Sorry, I know you’re not very fond of being in front of the camera, but we’re not letting you slink away from this.”

I did not expect Trixie to give Edith a similar clap of encouragement, and judging from how Edith tensed for just a moment, neither had she.

Edith seemed to find some strength in the act, unexpected as it may have been. She gulped once, before turning to the camera with a smile that looked a bit more genuine. “…Well, to make a long story short we were having a company poker night, they asked about the pony thing, I mentioned a dream I’d had and well…”

Morgan raised a hand in front of her. “One moment before you say it, please.”

Edith stopped, waiting for him to say his piece.

He gave a thankful nod, before lowering his glowing hand and continuing. “We believe we have found a way to test if somebody is about to ‘Catch the pony’ as it has been called.”

I sucked in a breath, only then noticing my jaw had been hanging open for so long my mouth felt bone dry. I quickly swallowed a bit.

This… had some serious implications.

I hadn’t exactly been to town lately… but we did have internet, the radio and the TV, even so.

And it was clear people were close to panic about this whole thing. A test for the ‘condition’ might be just what was needed to calm the populace.

He continued, looking a bit troubled. “…The problem is that if you’re still human and you’re about to be affected, it hurts like hell.” He rubbed at his throat without even noticing. “I’m not kidding, it felt like my brain was trying to turn inside out.”

Trixie gave a slow nod, looking serious. Deathly serious. “…Morgan just lay there screaming for nearly five minutes... I implore you, if you’re not sure you can handle something like that, then just turn this video off before we can tell you the test.”

“Oh, and one more thing…” The man said, reaching for his glasses. He took them off…

And I let out a gasp, as the slitted eyes of somepony corrupted by the Nightmare Force looked up.

Morgan gave a slow nod, slitted and Byzantium purple eyes not focusing on anything. “...Yeah, it seems like poking at the thing makes it worse. Fancy that, huh?”

Edith continued. “The important bit is that the primary sign is dead easy once you’ve figured it out.”

Morgan finally snapped out of it, and gave a nod. “If you’re twenty-five or older and still human, you’re golden. The transformation kicks in on your twenty-fifth birthday.”

Dafuq? That doesn’t make any sense!

“I realize this doesn’t sound like it makes any sense…” he continued, making me feel a bit sheepish. “and sadly our answer to why will not sound much better.”

Trixie took a deep breath. “This isn’t a contagion, an invasion, or anything like that. It’s a curse.”

Something in the back of my mind… clicked. I knew I shouldn’t believe a word of it… but it just rang true.

“One with a now expiring time-limit.” Trixie looked a bit sad as she went on, glancing once at Morgan. “You’re not turning into ponies, your turning back to your old selves.”

I pressed the enter button with my magic to pause the video, before hiding my head under my wings.

“You alight?” Shade asked in a gentle voice.

“…Need a moment,” was all I managed to croak out.

I received no answer but silence.

Just the one I wanted. And needed.

I knew it wasn’t healthy, but I just pushed the swirling vortex of questions and emotions to the back of my mind.

I could have my breakdown later, right now…

I needed more answers, not more questions.

I looked up at Shade, who was just looking back at me.

“…Have you gotten a hold of them?” I asked.

He shook his head. “We were just about to track them down…” He nodded towards the pit. “but something more pressing came up. We needed all hands on deck for a potential crisis of… Well, if you had snapped.”

Reluctantly, I gave the man a nod. I sadly got it.

But one question strained free from the mental box I’d put the others in. “How the b- fuck did Trixie…?” I wasn’t even sure how to phrase it.

I’m supposed to be the magical badass, dammit!

How the bucking fuck did Trixie do that? Was it the Nightmare thing…?

“An excellent question I too would like answered…” He hesitated for a moment, before finishing with conviction in his words. “Mrs. Sparkle.”

It was only then I realized that Shade hadn’t even attempted to call me by my…

Human name.

A tittering laugh that even in my ears sounded slightly on the wrong end of sanity and made some of the assembled men take steps back ripped itself out of my throat. I felt my ears twitch and my mane made tiny springing sounds as strands shot out like broken clockwork.

I buried my head in my hooves and started taking long, deep breaths. I honestly have no idea how long I kept at it.

“…Feeling any better?” Shade asked after I had finally gotten my breathing under control.

My head shot up. I could feel how my pupils were pinpricks even in the gloom and my grin would have made Freddy Krueger run away screaming.

Some of the soldier did. I ignored them, ears still twitching. “I’m fine. Just fiiiine. Why wouldn’t I be fine?” I said to Shade in the happy, happy, happy happiest voice I had!

“…You want to talk about it?” Shade said in a careful voice, before once more taking out his just wonderfully non creepy pipe!

I tilted my head 33,453 degrees to the left. “Why would I?! It isn’t like my entire life as I know it turned out to be a lie, a perverse jo-“

I straightened my neck, suddenly feeling… calm. Yes, let us call it that. So very, very, very calm.

And I was nice and toasty again. So toasty in fact, that the suddenly oh so useful general lit his match by leaning forward and holding it against a spot above my pelt.

“It was Discord, wasn’t it?” I asked. Still feeling so very, very, very, very, very, very, very calm.

The now brightly lit man took a long pull on his pipe, scooting just a little to avoid the small runnel of molten sand coming from under me. “What made you came to that conclusion? If I may ask?”

“If I’m the real Twilight, then that means Equestria is real, which means other creatures from Equestria are real…” My ears flicked in annoyance, slicing a moth that had come to close clean trough. It fell onto the ground in two burning halves. “And Discord is the only one with the combination of power, poor judgment and ‘humor’ to do something like this.”

The commander took a long drag from his pipe before answering. “…Mentions of him are a common trend in the memories from those afflicted we have interviewed, yes…”

He pointed to the laptop with his pipe. “There was another clip I thought you should see. May I? I think it may calm you down.”

“I am perfectly calm,” I said. Feeling calm, calm, calm, calm, calm, calm…

My grin twitched. My cheeks were starting to hurt, but I paid them no mind. “I am simply thinking how I at the moment know how to short-range teleport, how to put up a basic shield, telekinesis and the cloud-walking spell…”

The commander raised an impressed eyebrow. “Oh?”

In the background unimportant people were looking on with their eyes wide… They must be impressed with how very, very, very, very, very, very, very calm I am. I paid them no further heed.

My eye twitched once again. I hope I’m not coming down with something. “You’re a military man. If were to get my hooves on the bastard… Should I use a series of crisscrossing shields as a makeshift Draconequus slicer?”

The man hummed thoughtfully, looking at the sky while doing so.

“Or perhaps I should simply apply enough force and heat to turn him into a ugly diamond?”

Shade took a puff. “Sounds impressive, but surely there are simpler ways?”

Another tittering laugh. This time I just didn’t care. “Like teleporting his kidneys out, you mean?”

Another puff from Shade, a few more fading screams in the background… This was kind of relaxing, actually…“Surely if it was that easy Celestia and Luna would have done it all those years ago?”

I let out an irritated grunt in acknowledgment.

Now, how to kill a bastard with only a cloud-walking spell and some clouds…

My eye twitched again. Plain ones… or with thunder or hail within? Choices, choices…

My gin grew a couple of sizes. Of course! Both!

He pointed at the laptop once more. “With all due respect, Mrs. Sparkle. I believe you need to calm down. May I once more recommend that clip?”

My eye twitched again. “I have no idea what you are talking about. I’m in complete control… I simply lack knowledge of the place that needs to be turned to burning glass...” My ears twitched, and I tilted my smiling head at the general. “...and I find that somewhat… irksome. Slightest chance there exists a plan of attack? I would be glad to help!”

The light around us was turning purple for some reason. Weird.

Shade let out a sigh, before reaching over and grabbing the laptop. He did something while my eye continued to twitch for no reason at all…

When he turned the laptop around I instantly snapped out of it.

Fluttershy.

In what looked like a church, standing on something on her hind-hooves and with her wings spread wide.

She looked strong, healthy…

Utterly confident in herself.

There was even a big, goofy grin on her face. In front of a crowd with at least one camera.

Fluttershy.

Shade pressed the button.

She gave… a speech of all things. It wasn’t long, but it came from the heart.

And once she was done, she took a bow and strutted out of the building.

I had to re-watch the clip four times for it to sink in.

A big, big grin, this time from happiness rather than being in the midst of a freak-out, split my face.

I wasn’t alone. At least one of the girls was here.

I must have started crying at some point, but I only noticed when the tears started hitting the melted sand.

But a frown swept over my features as another part of the video sank in. I looked at my plot, the six pointed purple star and its five smaller white proxies clearly illuminated in the night by the glowing glass I was lying in.

For an odd moment, I had the strangest feeling of being relieved, disappointed, curios and horrified, all at once.

Then I realized I was lying in molten ground.

Again.

Am I having the best day ever, or what?

I turned to Mr. Shade. “Would you mind picking up that laptop and standing up?”

He raised an eyebrow at me, pausing mid puff.

“Please?”

With a shrug he put his creeptastic pipe in his mouth, before doing as I had asked.

I thought of teleporting what I needed, but I instead made a shield.

Shaped like a bowl, just beneath the surface of the pond.

Then I slowly lifted it. It protested and tried to warp a bit, but it wasn’t that hard.

It looked like some manner of low-budget flying saucer… but seeing it in person rather than on a screen was a very pretty sight. The magic glow and water together made purple lights dance across the ground.

A few impressed murmurs broke out from the few that had dared stay during my… tantrum. Mr. Shade gave a low chuckle when he saw what I intended to do, and took a couple of extra steps back.

I thought about just dispelling the shield and dumping it all on my head… but I got a better idea.

I got to my aching hooves and carefully ‘poked’ a few holes in the bottom using my telekinesis and before long I had an improvised shower.

It was far too cold, the water jets where either too weak or too strong, the pond water smelled of dead fish and old leaves…

As the water fell on me, and the steam from around me rose…

I just closed my eyes and lost myself in the sensation.

I felt the shield wobble when I got distracted, but I fed more power to it. Enough for it to last a few minutes, at least.

I didn’t even pretend to clean my hair or pelt in any normal fashion.

Instead I made my mane and tail contract hard enough to just crush most of the debris in it, making the water black with the dust and soot.

The crap clinging to my pelt was a bit harder, but a combination of telekinesis and teleportation solved that. I wouldn’t win ‘best of show’ anytime soon considering how uneven this made my fur, but it wasn’t as if I cared much.

When the water ran out I was a bit chilly, but I felt clean… -er.

But it was still a massive improvement. I gave a shake and stumbled over to a dry patch of ground.

I didn’t lie down, as much as I performed a barely controlled collapse. It felt as if even my fumes were running out.

“Impressive,” Shade said as he came walking up, the folded laptop under one arm. “But perhaps we should get you to a bed? As admirable as wanting to figure all this out is, you’re clearly on your last rope.

I nodded to the patch of half-molten sand. “I thought I should put out one of my fires before collapsing. The shower was a nice bonus…”

He nodded thoughtfully, puffing away at his pipe. “Tell you what, Mrs. Sparkle? You go to sleep and I’ll arrange for that stretcher you suggested. We can continue this…” He looked at his watch. “Well, later today as the case may be.”

I tried thinking of a counter, I really did… but my eyelids suddenly weighed a couple of tons. I put my head on my hooves and was out like a light before I knew it.

I awoke far too quickly to the experience off tiny arms around my neck, trying their darndest to hug me to death… and something wet on the side of the same.

Strangely, I recognized the scent before I even opened my eyes.

I gently hugged my son back. “Hi, Stripes. You and mommy hanging in there?”

His hug went from a tiny vise, to ‘Oh boy, I’m glad I figured out how to not need breathing’ and he started wailing. Guess I got my answer…

I took the opportunity look around between pats on his back and ‘There, there’s…

I was back in my family’s kitchen, lying on the floor still on the stretcher I didn’t even remember being lifted with… and it was a mess. The window on the stove, the normal windows… even the tiles above the sink was either cracked or outright gone.

Had I really done all this? Even the cupboards gaped like empty wounds, except for a few metal and plastic things.

Some cleanup had taken place, but the closest to replacements the place had was heavy duty plastic covering the windows.

And it was full of military men. Sitting at the table, extra chairs or even the floor…

But they all had cups of tea or coffee balanced somewhere within reach, and most of them were either pointedly looking away to give me and Mark space, or even looking on a bit misty-eyed…

So, yeah. I didn’t exactly find the sight a greatly threatening one.

“Y-y-you screamed so loud,” Mark stuttered out between sobs. “And… And…” He started wailing again.

I gently pulled him to my trunk, giving him a proper hug. “Shhh, Mark. It’s alright. I just had a small accident.” I stroked the top of his head with a wingtip, while keeping the hug as firm as I dared. “I’m fine now, see? It’s alright…”

It took a while, but I managed to calm him down… he didn’t stop hugging me, though. He held on as if he was worried I’d drift off if he didn’t.

But after some while he calmed and his grip relaxed. He let out an adorable sneeze as well. “…You smell like pond scum. And ash.”

I let out a small laugh at that. “I got a bit… hot, and needed to cool down. I just haven’t had time to shower properly, yet…”

He mumbled something in response, but I didn’t hear what. I felt his grip slack a little more, but he didn’t let go.

I thought about teleporting with him to bed… but I just wanted him close for a while, so instead I gently lifted him to my side and folded a wing over him. He mumbled something about “Warm…” and hugged my side, but didn’t stir.

I chuckled before hushing the collective “Dawwww…”

Just then my ears swiveled around. Five people approaching.

I smiled wide. Because judging from how one of them had a ‘whirring’ quality to it, and one of the others was the clopping of hooves… I could guess.

I turned my head still smiling… only to have my smile disintegrate under my wife's gaze. I swear she even had tiny red spots in the centers of her eyes, like a freaking terminator.

I quickly assembled a sheepish grin from the tattered remains of my smile and pointedly pointed towards Mark with a hoof.

Mr. Shade and my father gave off a small chuckle each, but my mother just shook her head.

But Zecora’s face did soften a bit. Not a lot, but at least enough for the ‘You are so dead’ vibe to fade.

She trotted over, and without another word…

Clocked my straight in the face hard enough that I almost lifted.

Just as I was about to give her a piece of my mind… she did more or less the same thing Mark had, and did her best to choke the life out of me.

Then she started sobbing.

With a small sigh I restarted the “There, there…” routine, while trying to point at Mark with only my ears.

Both dad and mom had to bite their lips, but dad took the hint and got to work on putting Mark to bed.

I was so intent on the messy tuft of black and white hair diapering away in my dad’s arms that I almost jumped out of my skin when Zecora spoke. “…Have you seen that video yet?”

Mom suddenly looked… distant and worried, both at once. I had to look away. “…About half. I… got to disturbed and mad to see it all at once.”

Her hug got a bit tighter. “…Do you think it’s real?”

I looked over to the general. He took the hint. “As far the experts my men have contacted so far are concerned it appears unaltered except for the addition of the logo…”

“…No chance it was a hologram?” I asked.

He gave a weary shrug. “I checked out the channel personally. The man in the video has had this Trixie ‘act’ going for over a decade… and that is only on camera. I found some references from another of his co-hosts that she’s been around since his childhood. Now, this hardly stops him from being…” He spun a finger around his temple. “…But honestly? I didn’t get that feel.”

I gave a tiny reluctant nod. “…I saw her plot ripple slightly when he gave that kick. Something like that would be hell to fake.”

Shade nodded. “A few of the experts noted the same thing. Good eyes, Mrs. Sparkle.”

Mom glared at him. “I realize you are just trying to be courteous, but please don’t encourage my son’s…”

Shade just glared back, interrupting her. “Her what, Mrs. Wright? Delusions? “ He pointed to a spot of wall I knew was in the direction of the pit. “She survived that inferno for days. She was glowing with the heat from it and yet I personally saw her levitate, then teleport, to get out of it under her own power. May I ask then, how she did it in your opinion?”

Mom stuttered, but glowered at the man.

He swept his hand towards the stairwell dad and Mark had disappeared up. “Or is your grandchild’s near unique colors a delusion as well?”

This made my mom… just deflate. Her shoulders sagged, and the fight just vanished out of her.

“Mr. Shade?” I asked firmly, but not impolitely. He turned to me. “Thank you, but may I please handle this myself?

He nodded once. “Fine. I shall get myself a cup of tea instead then.” He flashed me the laptop, before once more placing it under his arm. “I will leave this on the kitchen table as a sign of trust. Would it be alright if we agreed to continue our discussion after we have both rested?”

I gave a nod. He flashed me a smile in response, before stalking off after his cup of tea without a further word.

But both my mom and Zecora tensed. “He offered me a job. I haven’t given an answer yet.” I explained.

Zecora leaned back a bit. She glared me in the eye from less than a inch away. “What kind of job?”

I gently tapped my horn with a hoof, making some small amount of ash to shake loose. “Need I say more?”

Her glare turned towards the general for a moment, before turning back on me. “Explain.”

I leaned forward, resting my head on her strong, broad shoulder. “They need somebody to act as a magic expert. Apparently even what little I…” I glanced at mom who was giving me a strange look, her shoulders tense. I lowered my gaze towards the floor. “…I’ve figured out, I’m still the best they’ve found.”

“Huh.” Zecora relaxed a bit. “I actually got a similar offer…”

“Oh?”

She gave a soft shrug, making my head jolt slightly. “I basically told them that I’d think about it after they got you out of that hole.”

I rubbed my head against her cheek, making her give a soft coo in response. “…Well?”

She was silent for a while. Long enough I started to wonder if she’d fallen asleep in my fore-legs. “…Remember the season four finale?” She said it in a voice so low I almost didn’t hear her. “…I’m not sure I want something like that in military hands.”

I shuddered at that. I didn’t have… personal recollection, but remembering the show and the implications of that video in combination was bad enough.

The first episode had started with a few shots of Zecora by her hut. Your average slice of life things, but with a magic Zebra…

Then the scout legion of demons turned up. That was the teaser.

And after?

Zecora stumbling into town, covered in others blood, before barking out a warning not in rhyme and collapsing.

That was the closest the show ever came to showing just what zebra water magic was capable of. As if the implications of living in the Everfree without major problems, was not enough….

I started stroking her neck and back. “…Have you had… flashbacks?”

A small shudder swept her. “…Not of... that. Just… day to day stuff.”

Day to day… in the Everfree. “…Do I dare ask?”

“Cockatrices. Manticores. Hydras. The odd dragon that thought protection money was a good idea…” The way she just read these things like a grocery list was the worst part. “…I think I understand better why you didn’t see her much in a kid’s show, let’s put it like that…”

I carefully continued stroking. Keeping an even tempo. “…You do know that water manipulation like that might be able to save many lives, right?”

She gave another weary shrug. “…I wanted to see how they handled… you, before even thinking about it. So I didn’t.” She turned her head and gave me a peck on the cheek. “Now I just might…”

She let out a yawn that gave me a firsthand experience in equine dental structure. The sight of so many teeth close to my face was… oddly disconcerting. “…but tomorrow.” She gave me a quick nuzzling. “I can imagine your parents want to speak with you. Come to bed as soon as you can, OK?”

I gave her a nod, even as I let her go. She wasted no time heading upstairs.

I in turn, did the same in turning to my worried mom. I fought back an urge to gulp. “…Want to go sit and talk somewhere?”

She blinked, and gave a hesitant shrug. She just… seemed a bit lost, somehow. “…Can we please wait for your father?”

I gave a nod. I could imagine it from her point of view… and it wasn’t pretty. “…Sure.” I pointed a wing without thinking about it, but I switched to a hoof with a sheepish grin as apology as soon as I saw my mother’s face at the act. “…You want a cup?”

I saw how she had to fight for it, but her face softened. “…Sure.”

I quickly got up and tr- walked off to find the cattle, the tea and some cups.

As I worked it was… a welcome distraction.

Just what did mom think right now? Or dad? He had hidden it better, but it was clear they were both very worried…

And that was before my vocal cords did a Little Boy impression.

I fought down that line of inquiry. I was about to know anyway…

As I waited for the water to boil, dad returned. I pointed at it, but he shook his head.

He just smiled instead. “I tried putting Mark to bed in his room, but the moment he heard hooves…” He shook his head with an amused expression. “I don’t think you’re getting away from being hugged half to death tonight, let me put it like that…”

Most of my worries melted away with my heart at hearing that. “He’s with Zecora, then?”

Dad smiled and nodded, but mom’s lips turned straight enough to be used as a ruler.

My ears twitched in annoyance, before I gave her a piece of my mind. “Mom, I am well aware that you don’t approve of me calling Monica that.” Some gilt flickered over her face. “Am I so horrible for finding Zecora a bit more exotic and exciting?”

Mom looked away. She seemed very tired… “…I just want to know what has happened with my son and daughter in law…”

My heart skipped a beat.

Dad started glaring at her.

Even all the military in the room suddenly got dead quiet.

But just before I could… start bawling like a babe, to be blunt…

Mom jerked her head up with a horrified expression and stammered out. “I’m so, so sorry! I didn’t… It just, I just…”

It felt a bit forced, but I managed a smile at that, before trotting over and giving her a hug. I only reached her to her waist without rearing, but she just put her hands on the back of my head and squeezed back that way. It felt a bit odd, but I sure as heck wasn’t about to complain.

“…I get it, mom,” I said softly still leaning against her. “You’re just tired and worried. No need to apologize, it was just a slip…”

She started stroking my head. “…No, I should still apologize. Me being worried and distracted doesn’t give me a right to say something like that.”

I resisted the urge to rub my head against her. I didn’t think she’d take it the way I wanted… “Can we do this tomorrow? Please?”

Dad gave a grunt. “I think that’s an excellent idea. No matter what she calls herself or even looks like… Well, our child has still had a very trying period in her life… Isn’t that the important bit?”

Mom’s reaction to that was to sink down and give me a proper hug. I returned it in kind.

“…I saw you in that… pit, moving,” she said in a calm voice. “What was it like?”

I tensed for a moment, but she just sounded genuinely curious… “…Honestly? Nice and cozy.”

Dad made a low, intrigued sound. Mom opted for the classic jaw dropping approach.

I continued. “But getting out and getting cool felt worse than that time I went through the ice…” I shuddered at the memory, but it was a smaller shudder then I had grown accustomed too. “Never thought I’d think of almost drowning as quint and not that scary, I’ll say that much.”

Mom grew still for a moment. Then she hugged me even harder.

Dad must have changed his mind, because he walked over and started actually make the tea. Only adding an extra cup. “So…” He said. Voice oddly serious. “A tiny farm, two farmers… and their only son turns out to be an alien badass…”

A wave of laughter rang out as a few of the soldiers got where dad was going with that. I just unhooked a hoof from mom and face hoofed instead.

He turned with the cups in his hands. A big smile on his face. “Just how pissed would you be if I started with Superman jokes…” He offered me and mom a cup each. “...Kal-El?”

I just rolled my eyes at the ‘dad’ joke. I thought about pointing out that Kara Zor-El would have made more sense, but since both dad and mom had let out tiny laughs at that and I could almost feel the tension lift a bit…

I decided not to. Instead I swept my cup in one gulp. It was not as if a human sized cup was more than a mouthful for me now, anyway… or the heat a problem for that matter.

Dad winced, but relaxed when he saw me close my eyes and savor it. Earl-grey and two lumps.

Just like I like it.

I flashed dad a pony sized smile after swallowing. “Thanks, dad…” I levitated the empty cup over my head and tilted it back and forth a few times for emphasis. “But I think I’m going to need a bigger cup in the future.”

He chuckled once, but got a thoughtful look as I levitated the cup over to the dishes. He stroked his shin in thought. “…Do you think that young rake in a pair of pants with the creepy eyes and The Ghost of Humility Past…” I dropped the cup and bit back a laugh at that, but it was over the sink and the cup held, so no harm, no foul. “…might be on to something?”

The mental image of stepping through a certain mirror, using a scrying spell, then a simple teleport and just walking back through the portal with a whistle and twirling the Element of Magic around my finger flashed through my mind.

I let out a deep, deep sigh. “In that case I’m going to be very, very annoyed at my so called past self for how she handled the stuff in Equestria Girls…”

A few laughs rang out from the crowd, but mom and dad just looked thoughtful.

I saw where they were heading mentally and said in a gentle voice: “Even if that mirror turns out to e-“

Dad raised an arm, cutting me off. He walked over and got down on a knee, looking me straight in the eye and placing both hands on my shoulders. Mom took a step back. “Son…” I grinned at that. “All jokes aside and me being completely serious for one rare moment…” He lifted a hand and gently poked the tip of my horn. Being touched there when the horn was inert felt… odd, but not unpleasant. He replaced his hand on my shoulder and continued. “…Let me finish before saying anything, OK? I think you need to hear this, but I’m worried how you’ll react to some of it.”

I leaned forward and gave him a quick hug. He had a smile when I leaned back. “I’ll just take that as a yes, then…” He said.

He took a deep breath, before simply saying: “That video didn’t surprise me much. And I don’t care.”

I felt myself go bug-eyed. “…What?”

He flicked me gently on the nose. “Not finished… and you did agree.”

I felt my ears try folding back, but I fought them upright again. I gave a silent nod for him to continue.

He smirked a moment at my answer, but he did so. Once more looking serious. “Well, to be blunt I’ve seen… more and more of her in you these last weeks…”

My ears fell.

“But what I feared, that my son would… go away? That never happened.” He looked down for a bit, lost for words before pushing on. “…I guess what I’m trying to say is that you shouldn’t go do anything foolish on me or your mother’s behalf.”

I could almost feel my mom’s eyes glaring in our direction, but she didn’t say anything. Dad gave her a glare in turn before returning his focus on me.

He gently tapped the gem stuck in me. For just a moment a purple spark flared deep inside it, but then it darkened once more. It was… kind of adorable, to be honest. Like an exhausted pet poked in the side while trying to sleep giving you a glare, before turning over and ignoring you. “This thing kinda clinched it.”

That made my head jolt up. “How are your ears?”

Dad just gave a shrug. “As soon as the…” Dad looked uncomfortable. He tried to hide it by getting up and brushing himself off, but I saw it. “…screaming stopped.” Dad continued. “Well, Zecora got a weird far-off look, went out and grabbed a bunch of weeds.” He pointed to his ear. “Then she boiled them into some foul smelling mush while muttering something at it, forced it into mine and her own ears.” He let his hand fall with a shrug. “Made everything taste like orange for almost half a day, but the doctors couldn’t even see I’d been injured.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you mean oranges?”

Dad made a disgusted face. “Nope. Orange the color. Even fucking water. It was… weird.”

I noticed that most of the military in the room was… very interested. General Shade had gotten himself a spot over at the table and was not even trying to hide his interest at the conversation.

I decided to throw them a bone. “Did she say anything about what it was?”

Dad just shrugged again. “She muttered something about ‘The worst bucking poultice she’d ever made’ and ‘Go find my husband’ before grabbing Mark and stumbling to bed. Whatever she did must have taken a lot out of her, because she slept way past dinner that day…”

I just had to smile at that. “…Did you?”

He nodded towards the grunts in the room, then towards the pit. “By the time we’d spotted the glow… these guys had shown up.”

I realized I should have done so sooner, but I expanded my awareness towards my dad and mom…

Nothing but the fillings in their teeth and the normal stuff in their pockets.

Dad must have figured what I was doing from my expression, because he wagged a finger at me. “Now don’t you do anything rash, young lady.” Mom made a disgusted sound at the last bit, but didn’t interfere. “They’ve been nothing but courteous so far.” Dad shot a glare towards the general, but he just smiled over his cup in response. “Even if I almost clocked a certain bastard when I saw that perimeter…”

Shade raised a single finger over his cup. “A necessary precaution against what might have been a mad or delusional magician of your daughter’s strength… and I believe you know that, Sir.”

Dad glowered a bit, but just stalked off to clean his cup.

And I found myself at the mercy of my mom trying to nail me to the floor with her gaze.

I just sighed in response. Angry mom just… didn’t seem to stack up compared to the rest that had happened today. “Mom, something is clearly eating at you. Just say it.”

That actually made mom hesitate. I just had to smile at that. “Sorry, mom. You on the warpath aren’t even in the top five scariest stuff I’ve seen today. Just say it, please?”

Mom buried her head in her hands for a moment, before sighing and looking up. “Fine. I can deal with these… changes…”

I made a on with it gesture. “And the second part of that sentence that starts with ‘but’ ends how…?”

She let out another deep sigh. “Fine, I’ll just say it. You seem to be reveling in them, and it’s freaking me out.”

I just stared at her. Then I started beating my wings and took to the air, gently hovering at her eye level. I just hung there, fore-legs crossed and stared her down. “I will admit the tiny, pointy horse thing is weird… but need I say more?”

Mom countered by pointing at my crutch. I just rolled my eyes. “I happen to think that Queen Majestic is pretty enough to be an even trade for King Lear, thank you very much…”

A tiny sound made me turn towards the kitchen table.

Shade was sitting there with what remained of his cup in his grip. The edges of his mouth were twitching and every eye in the room was staring at him. “…King Lear?” He managed to croak out.

A huge grin split my face. “Because the ladies drove him mad, obviously…”

He took a deep breath and rose from his seat. Back a bit stiff. “…Excuse me for a moment.”

He quickly walked outside with as much dignity as he could muster.

I pretended not to hear the laugh that easily reached in through the half-fixed windows.

Mom was just shaking her head. “…Seriously? That’s your argument?”

I pointed a hoof at her. “I’m holding this discussion with you while flying under my own power, mom. What’s your counter to that?”

She buried her head in her hands again, looking exasperated. “…You’ve turned into a unicorn mare… and that’s your counter?”

“Alicorn, mom,” I corrected. “Unicorns just have the horn…”

Mom gave a glare, but it quickly faltered. “Fine…”

I noticed that the state of my wings were making flying harder, and chose to stop using them because of that.

I honestly didn’t even feel tired in them, on the contrary it felt nice to stretch them… but I could feel small feathers falling out and stuff like that. Flying in such a state seemed… untidy, for lack of a better word.

Of course, this didn’t mean I had to land. I just enveloped myself in a spell and kept myself floating that way.

Dad gave off a chuckle. Mom just gave off another sigh at the sound.

I was getting annoyed. I throw my fore-legs wide. “Mom, look at me.” With an effort of will I made my mane spread itself out in a purple, gleaming cloud around my head.” I put my front-hooves on my hips as further emphasis. ““For fucks sake, mom. I even have curves. Curves! What part of this should I be raging against?”

Mom suddenly looked up, something hard in her eyes. “The part where you’re a fucking pony?”

I found a piece of charred ground in my mane by how it made part of it stick together. I made the hair part around it and levitated it out and into the trash-bin. I didn’t take my eyes of mom for any of it.

I got distracted by dad prodding my wing. I looked up on the disgusted look on his face. “You know, I’d make stew of any off our chickens with wings that looked like this. Just saying.”

I fidgeted a bit. “…I know, OK?” I just haven’t had time to preen yet.”

I shrugged and took a step back, leaning against the counter. “See that you do. They look hideous right now.”

Mom spoke before I could defend my darlings. “…How can the rest of you take this so… normally?”

Dad just shrugged. “I trust Greg. Simple as that. If she, as the case may be, isn’t worried… then I frankly see no reason to be so on her behalf.”

I flashed dad a thankful smile, before pivoting on the spot towards my worried looking mom again. I tapped the Element. “And the surprise sternum piercing from nowhere aside, I honestly don’t see much point in seeing a gift horse in the mouth.”

The whole room grew silent at that line, before groaning in unison. I just grinned.

Mom was face palming. “…Seriously?”

I rolled my eyes. Everybody is a bucking critic… “So, should I levitate up to my bed, fly or just teleport? Choices, choices…”

Dad chuckled softly. “What? Not even humoring the option of galloping up there?”

I turned my head and stuck my adorable little tongue out at him. “But that makes noise. Don’t want to wake anybody…”

He theatrically smacked his forehead, grinning all the while. “Of course. So silly of me…”

Mom let out another sigh. “I’m just worried by… that you aren’t.”

I floated over and gave her a hug. She got the giggles from the tingling of my magic, but returned it. “Mom, I can do the impossible on a whim. Am I so wrong for considering this a decent enough trade off for the other stuff?”

She gently pushed me away, making me drift a few feet before I locked my position in the air. She didn’t look convinced, but she seemed mollified at least. “I don’t agree with you… but I think I’m starting to understand how you’re handling this.” She put on a gentle smile, and pointed upwards. “But I think two tired people are waiting for you…”

I may have been floating at the moment, but it still felt as if a rock fell of my back. I gave her a relieved smile. “Thank you… and ‘night, mom.”

She gave a small nod. “The same.”

I turned my head again, but dad just waved me off. “Get going already… and ‘night.”

I gave the military guys a wave as well. “Well, ‘night to you too.”

I chuckled at the small chorus of “Goodnight, Mrs. Sparkle” before zooming off.

I resisted the urge to shout “Wheeeee!” but only barely.

As I passed the hall I traded a nod with Shade, but that was the only pause before I had curved and darted my way to mine and Zecora’s room.

I thought off levitating in, but decided not to risk waking them with the sound. So I landed and opened the door the old fashioned way.

Mark lay curled in Zecora’s hooves, both of them gently snoring away.

I had to blink away a few tears at the sight. I… had been worried I’d never…

I quickly shook that train of thought out of my head and tiptoed over to the bed instead. They both stirred a little as I slid under the covers, but relaxed as I did.

I barely had time to wrap my hooves around them both and put my head on the pillow before I was out like a light.

But I fell asleep with a smile.

Chapter 11/Omake 1 - Nightmare Night Special! - Cutest. Archdemon. EVER!

Just a silly idea that I thought I should share in honor of Halloween. Takes place just after chapter five.

Needless to say, this is utterly non-canon.

And no disrespect or insult is intended, only LOLs.

But for once, may I recommend the Gdoc version as the one to read? There's a format dependent joke I'm quite proud of, but simply couldn't get to work on FimFiction.

I skipped up the steps to the gate and beyond, pausing only a few moments to let my eyes adjust.

Yeah. I was really worried, alright…

The inside of the church was well kept... and kinda standard to be honest. Pews, a lectern, some stained glass…

Seen one church, you've seen them all in my opinion. There was a sharp smell in the air I didn't recognize though. One I felt I should, strangely enough... Weird, but what else is new? I decided to just ignore it for now.

Mom snarled at me in a motherly fashion, making a gesture at my hood. Oh, right. Heads uncovered.

I pushed it back with a deep sigh, because I knew this wouldn't end well. I took the opportunity to swivel my ears completely around and crack my neck.

If I was going to get a ton of problems from this, then at least I intended to feel comfy getting them.

I absently rubbed a itching hoof against the other, before walking into the church proper with my arms folded behind my back. Secretly hoping, this farce would soon be over...

But why was mom staring at me? “...What?” I asked, trying to ignore the strange acidic smell in the air.

Without a further word, she raised a shaking hand… and pointed at my hooves.

I looked down…

Only to see the stone under me hooves glowing white, as it was slowly melting at my touch. Flames were even licking up along my legs, and the hem of my robe had caught on fire.

I reacted quite rationally for the circumstances… which means I screamed like a banshee, flew out the door (both literally and figuratively) before stopping, dropping, and rolling across the disgusting asphalt.

“...Oh, for fucks sake. Can’t a gi- guy take a five minute bathroom break without something happening?” A irritated (If quite sexy sounding...) male voice said.

I raised my shaking head from the dusty parking lot I was laying on… only to have my heart catch in my throat as I saw the handsomest pegasus I’d ever seen…

Granted, the only other pegasus I’d seen, but I was a sucker for the mad science look he had going. The white pelted and gray maned stallion was sitting on a small cloud just above the roof I’d somehow missed, and was wearing nothing but a pair of flight goggles and a scowl.

I gave him an awkward smile and a wave, trying to ignore the tingling between my legs the idea of having him above me in a different angle gave me. “...Hi. I take it you’ve had the same revelation I did, and you are giving the noble demon gig a try?”

He snorted at me, before gliding down… but he did suddenly have a smile on, so bonus.

Then he completely unashamedly started checking me out. “...Wow. I must admit, I thought the show was exaggerating!”

I managed to mumble out a thank you, while my cheeks suddenly felt hotter th-

With a curse, i fought down my sudden appreciation for the male form, before getting on my haunches and checking my hooves.

“Don’t worry, it seems the divine is a good sport about things… The flames doesn't seem to do much other then scare the bejeezus out of you... and ruin the floor. Even if I don’t even want to know what this will do for our insurance premiums.” The he leered at me. “Although, you might want to invest in a bit of asbestos, if you intent to go to church again, if you follow.” Then he nodded at my undamaged, but now completely exposed lower half.

I was just about to eek and cover up… when I realized. What was the point? I just chuckled at him. “So, what’s your story?”

I jabbed a hoof towards the church. “My dad’s the preacher.” His ears perked up, and he listened towards the church before wincing. “My condolences, it seems he’s comforting your… Mom, from the sound of things?”

I winced myself. “...Yeah. Wanna guess why she dragged me here? Just a hint, it turned out to be accurate.”

The stallion winced again, before giving me a hoof to get onto my own. “...Ouch.”

I shrugged of the destroyed garment, before extending a hoof at him. “Fluttershy slash Anthony Weaver, a pleasure despite the circumstances.”

He took it, and gave me a firm shake. “Oh, another member of the rule sixty-three brigade, huh? Name’s Great Scott slash Gwendolyn Smith. Likewise…” He tilted his head for only a moment. “...Hey, wanna bang?”

I mock swooned. “Oh my, how romantic. How shall I ever say no?”

He shrugged still grinning at me, ending it with extending his wings in a way that made me start drooling. “Oh, a romantic, huh? Well, I don’t mind, but I don’t see much point in ‘staying pure for marriage,’ when holy ground catches fire under my hooves.” He gestured towards the church. “How about I glide in and tell dad I’m handling you, and we could go see what manner of restaurants around here don’t have a ‘No shoes, no shirt, no soul, no service.’ policy?”

I was just about to protest about priorities, when my stomach growled like a bear’s after hibernation. “...Fine, but you’re the one buying.”

“Tell you what? I think I can live with that if I get a shot at wooing you,“ He chuckled at my blush, before miming patting his pockets. “but give me a sec to get my wallet, kay? I seem to have left it in my pants.”

I was just about to chuckle nervously at the joke, deeply worried how mom would react…

When a pillar of fire burst forth, melting a deep gash in the asphalt.

“WHO DARES HARM MY DAUGHTER SLASH SON?”A voice bellowed forth from the flames… “PREPARE TO FACE THE FULL FURY OF THE LIGHTBRINGER!”

And my jaw fell to the freaking ground, as I recognized both the voice and the slightly pink shape blazing like a morning star at the center of the inferno.

The soft-pink colored flame crowned with a blaze all the colors of the rainbow, stepped forward with the asphalt bubbling around her hooves…

But Princess freaking Celestia, just got a huge grin on her face and her visage faded to… Well, as normaller a winged unicorn with northern lights on her head gets. She trotted forward, and pulled me into a tight hug I was too shocked to fight. “Our darling first born! We have waited long to finally see your true glory! How is your mother?”

I was… not sure how to respond. One one hand… Well, the freaking devil, in the shape of Princess Celestia.

...But on the other, she was so, so soft and warm, and there was something I’d always found comforting about the smell of sulphur that suddenly made a bit more sense…

I hesitatingly returned the firm, but gentle hug. “...She’s not taking the news well, but other then that…”

Celestia/Lucifer snorted. The small flames from her nostrils tickled enough to make me giggle. “Bha! I shall simply have to make her scream for her other Lord, for a month or two… again.”Celestia let out a giggle, while smiling a perverted grin. “They always seem to come around after the twentieth orgasm…”

I stuck my tongue out in a disgusted grimace. “Dude, too much info.”

She chuckled softly, before leaning in and giving me a soft kiss right over the horn. “...We have missed you, Fluttershy Skyfury. We shall not relinquish you as easily, this time…”

“...Er, I’m flattered, but what about my… other dad?” I blushingly took a step back, and dusted myself off. “...And why the My Little Pony look?”

Before… dad, could answer, a small cough was heard from the entrance of the church. I turned, and saw a short, dusky skinned man in a priest smock standing with my mom by the doors. Mom was shaking, but the man seemed… mostly bored, actually.

“I swear, if you claim the name Monica Smith, then I for one, fucking called it, and two, I will kick your your plot up between your ears for letting Gwendolyn go through this alone…” The man simply stated.

I gave a slow clap that was mostly ignored. The man had cajonas, I’d grant him that.

Scot had however darted up to his dad, and was furiously trying to drag him inside.

But Celestia just sat down on her haunches, one hoof cradling her chin and the other poking her temple lightly, as she was lost deep in thought. “Monica Smith, Monica Smith…”A light came in her eyes, as she lowered the hoof she had been prodding herself with. She extended it in front of her. It twisted oddly, and somehow, this made the sound of fingers snapping. “Ah, The-Forsaken-Twister-of-Flesh, She-Who-Whores-Envy, The Whore of Babylon or like I prefer, Cloud Kicker, was about as restrained and subtle as ever, then?”

The face of Father Smith darkened. “I found her with two dogs, one woman and a bucket of lard…”

“Ah, my condolences. She’s never been one for restraint, I’m afraid…”

Scot paled a bit… before looking a bit green. “My mom’s Cloud Kicker?”

“Yes…”

The stallion turned a bit greener, before unceremoniously starting to walk away. “Excuse me, but I need to go burn my computer and cry in the shower for awhile…”

“...Raincheck?” I asked.

“...Sure, but I don’t think I’m going to be capable of… getting it up, for awhile. Sorry.”

“Fair enough,” I said, before waving him off.

He waved back with an awkward smile, before taking to the sky and shakily flying off.

I suddenly felt a burning sensation in my neck.

I turned and looked at mom.

And Father Smith.

...And ‘dad.’

All of them looking incredulous at me.

“What? He’s cute.” I gave them a light glare. “Or am I supposed to become a nun just because the world’s gone cuckoo for coco-puffs. I think not.”

I stalked up to the shocked looking so called ‘Lightbringer,’ and poked her hard in the stomach. “And you own me and mom and dad and my brother freaking explanations!”

“Oh, this?”she said, sweeping a hoof between herself and me.

“Yes!”

Celestia giggled softly. “Let’s just say, that Faust owed me a favor…”She rubbed her hooves together, grinning like a Saturday morning cartoon villain. “Pray tell, my darling foal, are you familiar with the prophecy about the Antichrist, The End Days and the return of Christ himself?”

“...Please tell me you are joking.”

I tried to ignore how mom began shaking.

“Oh, not at all… But…”

“...But?”

“The Antichrist is meant to be defeated by Jesus at the second coming, right?”

“To my knowledge…”

“Yes, and I saw no reason for a child. Now, imagine Jesus...”Her grin grew a few sizes more. “beating up everypony.”

My mind went blank, as I tried to imagine what diseased mind would think up a plan like that…

...Apparently my biological father.

The Devil.

...Fuck. My. Life.

Her wings flared, and she leaned back and laughed proudly… somehow not noticing the two facepalmings and my own facehoof going on at the same time.

“Is in not foolproof?” she continued, proud as a peacock at her own ‘brilliance.’ “Who will follow a man that puts Derpy in a headlock? Or that curbstomps Lyra? It is genius!”

“...I’m fairly certain the defeat is meant to be a bit less literal than that…” Father Smith said, but he was mostly ignored.

“And I’ve finally gotten an accurate view off hell published! Do you have any idea how much PR damage that hack Dante did?”Celestia continued, clearly ignoring everybody else. Her face did darken on the mention of Dante, though. “Freaking fan fiction writers... If there is a fouler crowd of imbeciles, I do not know them…”

I gave off a hiss, and my death glare finally made her snap out of it. “Oh, bugger…”She put on a awkward smile. “...But I’m certain your’s is good?”

I stopped… before grinning wickedly. “Well, then I’m sure you wont mind me reading you some, right?”

Celestia suddenly started sweating bullets. Mom just crossed herself, now actually smiling sweetly.

Father Smith just facepalmed. “That’s it. Screw this madness. My son needs me.” Then he stalked off, barely sparing a second glance at the nervous looking Devil.

My smile turned positively foul. “How about we start light… with some Goku slash Superman?”

For a moment, all was still… then Celestia’s eyes turned to tiny pinpricks, and she threw her head back and screamed. “Noooooooooooooooooo!”

One incredibly awkward car ride and introduction later…

”’...and as the glow of Goku's super saiyan mode reflected of Superman’s pecks, the saiyan leaned forward, put his monkey tail around Kal-El’s waist, and said: “My love for you is... over nine thousand!”’”

Celestia’s eyes and ears twitched.

“‘”Pink kryptonite may have turned me gay again, Goku…” The Man of Tomorrow said, his eyes wild with lust. “...But it was you that lit this raging fire in my heart… and my loins.”’”

Celestia let out a soft whimper.

“‘Then they kissed, they banged… and lived happily ever after. The End. Then they banged some more.’” With a sigh, I put away my first work.

Don’t get me wrong, I knew how much it utterly sucked… but the way people run away screaming anytime I read it? Priceless.

I ignored the glassy eyed Celestia muttering something about: “...Not even while bound in the deepest pit, did I suffer so…”

I gave her my sweetest smile. “Wanna hear one more? The next one has Robocop slash Jareth the Goblin King in it!”

Celestia fought back a whimper, as I smiling sweetly reached for the next stack of papers… then she surprised me. She forced a smile on, and said: “...For you, yes.”

Then she bit the inside of her lip, as she tried not to scream.

...And from all stories I had heard, the Master of Lies tells none, because they are too easy...

I leaned over the other way over the bed, and gave her a hug.

“Love you, dad. Thanks for listening to my crappy story… and for finally being a part of my life.”

As i breathed deep the wonderful smell of brimstone, she hugged me back. I pretended not to notice the wetness that fell on my head, but I did.

“...It was no trouble…”She hesitated, but only for a moment. “...and I love you too.”

We just leaned against each other for awhile.

“...So, I take it I have five siblings I’ve never met, then?”

“...Yes.”

“Oh! Can’t wait…” I tapped the rock in my chest. “but what about this thing?”

“...What about it?”

“...Are you telling me, that this is literally kindness made manifest… and that you made it?”

She waved a hoof in the air in a dismissing fashion. “Oh, I have a entire road of the near useless things…”Then she leaned a bit further down and nuzzled me affectionately. “But I made sure to send the the six prettiest to my six prettiest!”

“Huh,” was my articulate reply…. but I admit, the compliment put a smile on my face. “...And they work just like in the show?”

“Yup!”

“...That doesn’t sound very… Eh, you know, evil.”

“Ah, but I am supposed to be evil by divine mandate… thus the vilest thing I can be... is good!”

...I decided, that that, was the dumbest thing I had ever heard… but I didn’t see any… Well, good, coming from me pointing that out, so I shut up.

We sat in content silence some more. I… knew, I should be disturbed by all this…

But I just felt so warm and safe under her wing and against her side. My smile just seemed to come easier and easier, the more the wonderful smell of her sank into the room, and this invigorating feeling near radiating from her seemed to warm my very bones…

“...If you're the Prince of Darkness… what rank does that give me?”

She raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “...And you ask this, why?”

“Because I hate paperwork, and I wonder how much of it I get to burn.” For a glorious moment, I saw mountains of forms and papers, all writhing in agony as I willed it!

A warm hoof patted me gently on the head. “...How about we leave the family pyromaniac streak to a another day, dear?”

I grumbled as my dreams of punishing bureaucracy itself turned to the boring type of ash, but I relented and switched subject. “...Hey, I’m feeling random. Wanna see if the others wants to play monopoly?”

“Some evils should not be trifled in even by demons, dear…”

I couldn’t decide if she was being serious or not, so I dropped it. “Fine…” Then my stomach growled. “...but how about a not at all awkward dinner? I’m starving.”

She was just about to answer, when she tilted her head, as if hearing something only she could… then she winced. “Sorry, my little darling Archdemon of Kindness… but your sis Twilight set a field on fire. I need go put her out before something happens…”

“...She’s alright, right?” I asked nervously. “I mean, I hardly doubt the UN will send in a anti-magic brigade or something, but…”

Dad leaned forward, and kissed me just above my horn, in turn making me blush. Then she gave me a wink. “Please, like that would happen. And aren’t you forgetting something?”

Then just like that, without a whisper of power… she was gone.

Perhaps it was just me, but the room immediately felt… cooler, but not in a good way.

...It also felt lonelier.

With a sigh, I… heh, fluttered off the bed.

...Now what?

My cell I’d nabbed on the way to my room ,started playing the song I’d picked for an unknown caller.

The thought of perhaps literally damning a telemarketer cheered me up, so with a telekinetic jab I put the thing into speaker mode, stopping the dashing Professor Elemental mid “Horse!”

I jumped up on the bed again. “Yes? The Archdemon of Kindness speaking?”

“...Wow, took you long enough to accept that title,” a only half joking voice said.

A big smile came to me, as I recognized a certain roguish pegasus from earlier. “Hi, Scott!” I gave off a small snort. “Your one to talk, Mr. My-mom-is-the-dark-goddess-of-banging…”

“Actually, her domains are apparently knowledge, technology, porn and sex…” he sounded as if he wasn’t certain if he should be proud or disturbed. “...We… actually had a long talk. Dad had her number for emergencies and she popped out of the screen screaming just as I set fire to it... It was… nice, if a bit disturbing.”

My mind actually processed what I just had heard. “Wait a moment…”

Scott barked out a laugh. “Yeah… Mom’s the Archdemon of The Internet.”

“...Well, that explains the rule of first adopters, I guess…” I managed after a few awkward moments. “...And the cat thing?”

“Actually, mom just loves cats. I must admit, I didn’t think it relevant to the demon pony thing, but still… Explains much, doesn't it?”

“...And you got my number that way?”

“Oh, yeah. Mom knows everybody, everything, and everything about everybody.” Scott paused for a beat. “...Apparently, she’s a pretty big deal in He- In Eq- In you know where.”

I hesitated, but only for a moment. “Hey, does that offer of a date and being taken to cloud nine still apply? Todays bean crazy, and I would actually like if it ended on a high note…”

He managed to sound calm… but since the squeak nearly broke my phone’s speakers, he didn’t fool me. “I haven’t eaten yet. I’d love to…. but hey, watch this!”

I jerked back, as sparks started shooting out of my phone…

Then a certain gray maned pegasus just stuck his head out of the screen. He gave me a proud grin. “Mom shared some of the tricks of the family trades, if you follow…”

His hooves grabbed the sides of the screen, and he pulled it open like if it had been nothing but a tent entrance. With a jump, and a small flourish of his wings, he was soon standing by my bed.

My eyes drifted down, as I saw how he was standing ready, as well.

With a grin that made me start drooling, he stalked over… and kissed me where I least expected.

“…Oh, my!” was all I managed, as I quickly began feeling like the luckiest demon mare in the worlds!

Then they kissed, they banged and lived happily ever after…

The End.

Then they banged some more.

*Sniff.* I just love happy endings.

And just as a bonus, the optional theme song for this chapter may be found through this carefully crafted link.

Thanks for reading even my little slip of sanity.

Happy Halloween/Nightmare Night everybody!

Author's Note

A few things ended up on the cutting room floor.

They may be found here, for any that are curious.

Chapter 12 - Hall of Fame

Chapter Twelve - Hall of Fame

Author's note: To stay in line with fimfiction.net's rules, a few lines in this chapter have been censored. Any line in brackets has suffered this fate.

If you wish to see it uncensored, then you can find it here.

Wednesday May 13, 2020.

Dover, England.

Computer room, Laughing Thunder Studios.

At that moment two strains of thought was rushing through my head.

I have proper magic again! Squeeeeee!

And:

That bastard throw that straight at Trixie’s face!

After a few moments the second won out, for now, and Trixie turned to the grinning bastard in question glaring. Morgan seemed to find this amusing. “And why, if Trixie may ask… DID YOU THROW THAT AT MY FACE!?”

I somehow felt my blood pressure spike despite technically not having a heart at the moment, as Morgan just rolled his eyes at me.

Then he opened his mouth and spoke, using my voice. “Yes, Morgan. Tell Trixie why you found the implication that all his skills are thanks to Trixie’s spellcraft somewhat insulting…”

I jerked back a bit. My ears fell and I felt a bit guilty. I never meant to imply that... “...Sorry.”

Trixie’s tail started lashing as the entire room gasped. At least Morgan faked his… “Oh, come on! Is it so beyond the pale that even Trixie might recognize a clear mistake?”

Morgan got a bit serious… for him. “Apology accepted,” he said in his own voice this time. “and I must admit I’ve always been somewhat puzzled just how easy…” He looked a bit both sheepish and ashamed. as he scratched the back of his head before continuing. “Well, performing you was…”

Trixie scowled a bit, but Morgan looked so guilty the expression had soon melted away. I trotted over and gave him a hug. “Trixie understands. You don’t have to apologize, it was my doing anyway…”

He gently put the hand magic was not flowing around on my head. It was so easy forgetting just how freakishly tall most humans are when you don’t have a physical presence to compare with…

“...May I ask why you kept this from me?” He asked, just like that.

Abraham gave off a grunt. “Same here…”

Tim looked thoughtful, but joined in with a grunt of his own.

Trixie’s ears fell… but her friends deserved to hear it. “...That visit to a shrink really scared me. What if… they actually managed to ‘cure’ me?”

Morgan sank down on his knees and held me tightly. It felt… very nice. The rest of the room was silent, waiting for me to continue.

I had to blink away a few tears. That was… also nice. A small smile spread over my face. I can’t even remember the last time somebody just listened to Trixie…

“I thought it was just a matter of making my magic work again,” Trixie continued. “Proof that Trixie really was who and what she said she was, you know?”

Trixie let out a deep sigh. “But then it took longer and longer for smaller and smaller results…” Trixie gritted her teeth. “And then the so called ‘show’ popped up…”

Trixie started crying completely unashamedly. “...And then the fans popped up… Near bucking all of Trixie's worst moments of weakness made into children's entertainment… and she still got so many fans over them!”

“...Huh,” Morgan said. “Must admit, I didn’t think about it like that…”

Trixie leaned against Morgan, just lost in the feel of being touched again… and it being a hug? Oh, it was a delicious feeling...

Trixie’s eyes swiveled around to the sound of Tim clearing his throat. Oh, how nice it was to be able to hear properly again, as well. Trixie can't understand how humans can stand those fixed ears of theirs…

“...Forgive me for asking,” Tim said, slowly and carefully. “but what did you think the show was? And how… accurate was it?”

A shiver raced down Trixie’s spine. “...Legions of screaming fans… and if Trixie tried to lay claim to them, it would have been a one way trip to the loony bin for her and Morgan…” The room was silent except for the whirring of a few fans. The boring type. “And Trixie thought she was dead. What do you think Trixie thought?”

The awkward silence and how Morgan gently started stroking her mane, told Trixie all she needed to know about how the group reacted to her words.

Trixie had to fight back a whinny in delight at the soft feel of Morgan’s hands running over her mane. Now, hands? Those Trixie saw the appeal in. So big and warm… and yet so soft and gentle.

Trixie almost dozed off against Morgan’s chest from the calming effect of the sensation. Trixie did not begin to snore, that is Trixie’s story and Trixie is sticking to it.

Trixie quickened with a start before she could fall asleep, still in the arms of Morgan.

And with a horrifying realization I came to the conclusion that now was not the time for me and my ego. I pushed off him and got to my hooves. “Morgan, you alright? How long was I out?”

“What, you mean this?” He waved his glowing hand at me.”Don’t worry, I feel fine. How are you feeling? That was one hell of a thing to get off your chest...”

I gently took Morgan’s hand and checked the magic again. It was… stale, for lack of a better words. Like somepony that had been bedridden for long enough that they had not even been able to use telekinesis….

And it ‘tasted’ odd, but I was not certain if that was the local magic, human magic, or even a quirk of Morgan’s own magic, rather than something actually wrong. I was simply too rusty with actually using magic to tell.

But the field didn’t seem to be doing any harm. Not at the moment, at least.

I looked up at him. Even when he was crouched down like this he was just so much taller than me it was ludicrous…

But it felt so nice finally being able to smile at him in the real world… and that he returned the gesture without hesitation made my heart melt. “I’m fine. How are you feeling?”

He leaned in and gave me a gentle kiss on the forehead, making me blush slightly. “Very happy. Its…I…” He leaned back, at a loss for words for a while. “...Thank you for finally trusting me in this.”

My ears fell, but Morgan just chuckled and beeped my nose, making them fold back in irritation instead.

“Hey, I get it.” Morgan took both my hooves and looked me in the eye. “But that’s in the past now. Let’s focus on the future instead.”

I gave him a relieved smile, before looking around. The room was completely empty except for us. “...Where is everybody?”

Morgan rose, blinding me temporarily when I tried to follow with my eyes and ended up looking straight into a lamp.

Morgan shrugged, as I rubbed my eyes. “The others thought we needed a moment, they went ahead to the game…”

Trixie’s jaw fell. “Wha…? They're still playing tonight? After all this?”

Morgan smiled a wicked little smile. “The world is turning upside down… Might as well while we can, right?”

Trixie rubbed the back of her head. “...Trixie supposes that makes a bit of sense…”

Morgan hesitated, before sitting down on the floor and leaning his back against a wall. He patted the floor with one of his hands.

Trixie obliged by trotting over and sitting next to him.

Morgan looked at the ceiling, with eyes that wasn’t really seeing the room…

“...Nightmare Force spirit, huh?” He said after a short silence.

Trixie put a hoof on his hand. “Come on,” Trixie said in a joking voice. “we both know just how flexible your morals can be… Was that bit really a surprise?”

Morgan chuckled softly at that, but he was still lost in his own little world. Thinking.

Trixie laid down and waited for him to think things over. The cold stone was a bit uncomfortable, so Trixie floated over one of Edith’s pillows.

Morgan followed the pillow until it was time for Trixie to sit on it. Then he quickly looked away. Pff, humans and their clothes…

Trixie’s attention focused on Morgan as he experimentally put his hands together… His brow furrowed in concentration and he slowly pulled his hands apart…

My breath caught in my throat. For just a moment, his other hand had had a few flickering spots of magic.

He grunted in annoyance. “Was worth a shot.” He dropped his hands on his lap and looked towards me. “Still, practice makes perfect, right?”

“Morgan…” I slowly began. “Most foals can barely shot sparks when they start learning magic. That was small, but it was small magic auras…”

Morgan’s eyes wouldn’t leave his magic covered hand. “...Well, the whole Nightmare thing is supposed to give a power boost, right?”

I put my hoof in his lap and gave him a smile. “Morgan, even if you end up getting… impulses.” I was at a loss for words for a moment, before continuing. “Well, Trixie is certain you will do her and yourself proud.” I gave a few pats and widened my smile a bit. “You always do.”

“Dawww…” Morgan countered, just oozing style and grace… before returning my smile. “Thanks. I think I needed that.”

He chewed slightly on a nail. “...But you're not just saying that to make me feel better?”

Trixie gave him a blank look. “Morgan… You had a plan for taking over the world when you were twelve… but dismissed it for being too much work to actually rule afterwards. Trixie doesn't think that part of you is very likely to change.”

Morgan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, now there’s a story...” Morgan took on the voice of a snobby old man I recognized as his ‘stuck up butler’ impression. “Oh, I am so terribly sorry, young destined hero… The Dark Lord has discovered the modern wonder of video games and is likely to be distracted and busy for awhile… Can you come back next century and see if he cares to be vanquished then? Thanks…”

We shared a laugh at that.

“...Trixie is sorry for insulting your skills,” Trixie said afterwards. “Trixie knows how much it hurts to have your work dismissed. She didn’t mean it like that.”

“Drop it,” he ordered once more in his own voice. “I get it.”

He poked me in the side to switch subjects. “So… This combined astral projection and tulpa of yours…”

“...And what?” I interrupted.

Morgan gave Trixie an irritated glare. “Seriously? Were you really sleeping through all the books i read? I thought you were joking!”

Trixie shot one just as irritated back. “And just how would you care for books that get one fact in a hundred right, if that?”

Morgan grumbled a bit, but I saw that he saw Trixie’s point. He let out a sigh, before explaining. “A tulpa, or a thought form, is something brought into existence through pure will. They aren’t quite real, but you can make anything from a orange to your own demons if you know how…” He jerked his shoulders once. “Allegedly, of course. But I think you might have figured out something similar to that.”

Trixie looked down and gently prodded her slightly see through barrel. It was… disconcerting, to look down and see the floor trough yourself like that…

But considering how long Trixie had thought herself dead… Well, the ghost routine was sadly a step up.

My eyes flickered to Morgan’s glowing hand, something he noticed. “Why don’t we keep this up for as long as we can? Get a feel for the thing and such?” He said.

Trixie hesitated. On one hoof, it felt just wonderful to actually be again…

But on the other, Trixie didn’t want anything to happen to Morgan.

I fought down the surge of guilt. Not again. Never again.

“Or would you prefer to run into whatever limitations this spell has during the worst possible moment?”

Trixie nodded reluctantly at Morgan’s point.

And then Morgan face took on a look Trixie had learned to dread. He was planning something.

“You didn’t react when I said ‘astral projection...’” He spoke in a level voice, but his hands were shaking from excitement. “What’s the limitations on the pony version of that?”

Oh, dear. Trixie has created a monster… Still, this might just work out.

Might.

I took a deep breath. “You need to be able to visualize the place you want to ‘go’ to. The clearer the mental image, the easier it is.”

“Any scaling in power consumption with distance?”

Trixie shook her head. “You're not actually traveling there, you just… send… you… mind...” Trixie’s ears caught up with what her mouth was saying. “...In a illusionary avatar.”

Morgan’s eyes twinkled. “And since this new variant of yours has some actual mass to it…?”

Trixie gulped and looked down at ‘herself.’ Trixie hadn’t thought of that, she just wanted a way to actually be seen again...

Not make the wet dream of burglars and assassins everywhere. This spell might be a lot of both fame and trouble, if Trixie ever manages to teach it to somebody...

He nodded to a laptop laying on a shelf. “Mind floating that thing over here?”

“...Sure,” I said and did so. Just what was he planning?

He gave me a wicked smile, before starting to fiddle with the device. “The implications of your projection having magic of its own haven’t even dawned on you, huh?”

I felt my eyes widen a bit, and I had to swallow a lump in my throat. Once again, Morgan had a point.

Bucking hell. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I just might have made one of those spells that gets dropped into the deepest vault the Royal Sisters have and even they try to forget about it after that.

I… honestly didn’t know how to feel about that. I just…

I leaned against Morgan and closed my eyes for a moment. I just wanted to be… able to…

Morgan gave me a worried glance over the screen of the laptop. “...You alright?”

I gave him his hand a quick squeeze. “...I just wanted to… be more then a voice in your head. I never intended to make something this potentially dangerous…”

He gave my hoof a gentle pat. “You’ve done and made something damn impressive. Don’t let how it might be misused destroy that…”

Trixie gave Morgan a relieved smile, before leaning back and letting him work.

Morgan swiftly had the thing booted up and logged into.

Trixie had to resist the urge to just shake her head, again. Twenty years of being at least able to watch this world and I can still barely wrap my head around just how small and powerful the computers of this world are… And the bucking things don’t have a single spell in them! Honestly, Trixie thought it was ludicrous even when she saw her first clunky desktop! This sliver of a thing in Morgan’s lap honestly made Trixie wonder if this must be what earth ponies felt when they watched Trixie perform…

Trixie blinked, and looked down again. Down at the hooves she actually had for the first time in decades.

...Could this mean that Trixie might finally have a chance to experiment and take a closer look at the things in this world? That just might be quite the silver lining…

Morgan snapped his fingers to get Trixie’s attention, making Trixie jolt slightly. “Sorry, Morgan. Trixie was just thinking. What did you have in mind?”

With a grin, he turned the thing around and showed Trixie...

A webcam. Pointed at some buildings among drifts of snow and ice...

In Antarctica.

Morgan’s grin grew to near perverted levels. “Want to scare the Norwegians at Troll station?”

...Alright, Trixie admits, she just had to laugh at that suggestion for a while.

Trixie wiped a tear from her eye, once she finally got herself under control again. “Trixie thinks something a bit closer might be wise as the test-run, Morgan…”

Judging from how he was smiling Morgan hadn’t actually thought I’d go for it, he just pressed a few buttons and showed me another tab on the browser. “How about this then? Local enough?”

It was detailed close-ups of the Big Ben. Trixie hummed softly as she thought it over. The pictures were good, London wasn’t that far away for that kind of spell…

But Trixie shook her head. “Trixie would rather not appear in such a public place…”

Morgan’s eyes nearly left his sockets.

Trixie rolled her own eyes in turn. “Because the whole ‘pony’ thing has people already running around like headless chickens and Trixie would rather not add to that by ‘hunting’ one of this worlds most famous landmarks? Seriously, Morgan. Give Trixie some credit...”

Morgan gave a grunt in acknowledgement, as he saw Trixie’s point. As he should.

He scratched his head. “...Its more than a little anticlimactic, but how about our recording room?”

Trixie looked towards the room she knew to be less than ten meters away, before looking back at him. “Morgan, using a astral projection to get there... that’s like shooting your TV because you can’t be arsed to get up and turn it off.”

Morgan just shrugged. “All the more reason it should be easy, right?”

Trixie thought it over. It was an insultingly easy test for a mare of her talents… but Trixie must admit she had gotten a bit rusty…

“...Trixie must admit...” Trixie slowly said, stroking her chin. “that does sounds like it might be a good first test… But Trixie would need to dispel this one first.”

Morgan stroked his own chin while he thought it over. “...Mind if I try something in that case?”

“Trixie sees no harm in it…”

Morgan nodded, before reaching into his pockets and retrieving his wallet. He cracked it open in turn and fished out his traveling sewing kit and starting fiddling with the tiny plastic box.

...Just what is he planning? Does he want me to hold a button and see if it follows, or so-

Than the crazy bastard stabbed himself in the hand with a needle. Straight in the magic field.

Trixie bit back a wince as some mental feedback started flowing through the magic link. It was… distracting, but this was hardly the first time I had felt pain from Morgan.

Trixie sighed at her companion. “Morgan. Please don’t do stuff like that.”

He yanked the sliver of metal out with no ceremony. The crazy bastard didn’t even wince, he just wiped the needle on his pants and replaced it in his kit.

With another sight Trixie held out her hoof, beckoning Morgan to give him the hand.

“What, this ti-” Morgan began, but Trixie glared at him until he took the hint and offered her the hand.

Trixie studied the wound and she winced when she saw that Morgan hadn’t even held back. It was thin hole straight through the soft tissue between his thumb and index finger.

And he seemed more interested in what I was about to do, then the wound.

I looked him in the eye. “Morgan, I know you don’t think very highly about the state of your body… But please, don’t add problems. OK?”

He was silent for a moment. “Did anything happen?”

Trixie reluctantly told him about the manageable feedback.

And to Trixie’s frustration he just smiled after that. “Well, a bit of pain for knowledge seems a decent trade for me…”

Trixie ignored that… and tried to ignore the dripping. She decided to see if she could remember the basic healing-spell her mom had thought her…

Mom…

An old ache bloomed in my chest at the word, but I fought it down.

I fought that train of thought down, now was not the time...Instead I focused my magic around the wound, giving Morgan’s own body the energy to do the work itself. I was a bit worried that Morgan’s magic might interfere, but it seemed to just flow into my spell without any problems…

Trixie guesses the whole two in one thing must have some advantages.

Morgan carefully flexed his hand as soon as the glow of my magic disappeared. The act sent a few jabs of pain through the link, but it was the ache of a dressed wound rather than a fresh and untended one.

“Huh,” Morgan said, still flexing his hand. “must admit I could get used to this…”

Trixie jabbed him hard in the side, forcing a breath out of the irritant. “No. More. Experiments. Involving. Things. Like. That.” Trixie made sure to repeat the gesture for each word, to make it sink trough Morgan’s thick skull.

Morgan didn’t resist, but he looked irritated. “Would you have preferred this avatar of your be dispelled by me having a coughing fit or something…” He said after in a slow, careful voice after I was done. “...while doing anything delicate or dangerous?”

“Compared to having to see you stab yourself?” Trixie said without any hesitation. “Yes.”

Morgan blinked, and actually had the sense to look a bit sheepish at that. “...Sorry, didn’t think about it like that…”

“I know, Morgan.” With a sigh, Trixie leaned over and gave him a hug. “And Trixie gets it, she really does… But you didn’t even warn her, or sterilize the needle.”

“...Guess I got a bit carried away, huh?”

Trixie wondered briefly if this was her doing. She was the one that told Morgan story after story about the wonders of magic when he was growing up…

Morgan reached for Trixie’s ears and gently lifted them upwards. “...Sorry, Morgan. But that’s horses, not ponies.”

But it still made Trixie smile a bit.

“So,” Morgan let go of my ears, grinning like a loon. “what now then?”

Trixie tilted her head. Morgan sounded so upbeat.

Too upbeat.

“...Is there anything you want to talk about?” Trixie said.

Morgan’s grin wilted like a flower held by a windigoo.

He hesitated for a moment, before simply saying “Yes.”

Trixie scooted over and leaned against Morgan’s side. “Just say it.”

Morgan leaned back against Trixie.

Trixie couldn’t help but grin, this… This was the kind of stuff she had dreamed for years.

Morgan let out a small laugh. “Pony cheeks actually does that?”

Trixie snorted. “Said the pants obsessed monkey…”

We traded a chuckle at that, before just sitting in silence for a while.

Trixie had to blink away a few tears. Trixie never thought she’d get to do something like this…

And Trixie wishes she could add a ‘again’ to that last sentence…

But… “What did you want to ask, Morgan?”

“...Promise you won’t be mad and go fume in your wagon for a week or two?”

Ugh, Trixie is not looking forward to this if he wants that… “Trixie promises. Now, spill it.”

Morgan leaned a bit harder against Trixie, but Trixie barely budged. “...This is nice. No offense and I’m not trying to guilt you or anything, but I kinda wish you’d figured this trick out sooner.”

Trixie followed her… friends example, in both leaning more and wishing the same. The former made him move a couple of centimeters on accident. “You need to gain some weight. No joke, Morgan…”

Morgan gave an irritated grunt. “Hey, I went on a freaking lard diet once. Wherever everything I eat is going I do-” He stopped mid sentence, tensing slightly.

“...Was it just me, or does Edith have much longer hair then she used to… Not to mention the age thing?” He said in a very careful voice.

Trixie turned to look at him. Trixie lives in his bucking head and she still has trouble following his thought process, sometimes...

Trixie hopes those two things are only tangentially related. Trixie would never forgive herself if her mere presence was damaging Morgan...

But one moment its corny jokes, the next quantum bucking physics… “What are you implying, Morgan?”

“...If you wanted somebody gone for who knows how long, but without actually killing them,” he said voice still very careful. ”How would you do it`”

Trixie thought it over. “...Trick them into going to Ponyville until they get assimilated by the crazy?”

Morgan bit back a laugh. “I’m serious. How would you do it?”

“I take it you mean by magic, not things like bribes or just ignoring them until they go away?” Morgan nodded. “...Trixie supposes she could do something like that, but it wouldn’t exactly be Trixie’s style…”

I gave Morgan a warning glare, but he just smiled. “I won’t mention wheels if you don’t…” He said almost keeping his face and voice neutral.

Trixie shivered. “Please, Morgan. Don’t mention that… thing. Trixie was hours away from declaring herself the Dark Queen of All She May See and challenging Celestia to a duel. Being under the effect of that damn thing was horrible.”

Morgan put the computer on the floor and wrapped an arm around me, making me feel a bit better. “...You’ve never mentioned what it was like. What was that...Well, pardon the pun, but episode like… from your perspective?”

Trixie closed her eyes… trying not to remember and yet being so, so tempted to do so… “Power. That was the long and the short of it. I felt as if I could trot straight into Canterlot and make both Princesses kiss my hooves… and they would be thanking me for the privilege.” Trixie shivered again, despite herself. “And the bucking thing kept whispering to me, all the sort of ways I could use that power…”

“...What kind of whispers?”

Trixie shook her head, trying to clear it. “...Just… stuff. Ponies that had laughed at me, things that didn’t deserve to… continue. Stuff like that.” Trixie gave Morgan a weak smile. “Would you believe Trixie if she told you she thinks she handled that day quite well, all things considered?”

Morgan shivered slightly. “...Those two numbskulls were lucky not to end up turned inside out, weren't they?”

“...Trixie was… tempted, yes…”

Morgan gave a disgusted grimace.

“So, Calvin,” Trixie said putting her own hoof around Morgan. “What was that idea and question of yours, anyway?”

Morgan shivered again. “Please, don’t joke about that. Anybody hear you, and we are never hearing the end of it…”

Trixie smiled and wiggled her eyebrows. “Trixie can think of worse things to be compared to then a dashing Tiger with strange powers…”

“...Dashing?” Morgan asked, sounding amused.

“Hands and claws… What’s not to like?” Trixie growled suggestively, just to get Morgan’s goat.

Morgan just shook his head. “And people wonder why I’m so seldom surprised about stuff like that…”

Trixie let go and punched Morgan lightly in the side, making him let go in turn.

“Anyway…” he said, rubbing his side. “I was thinking about the whole real ponies thing… You said something about Discord?”

Trixie’s face twisted into a grimace, as she felt a few flames lick along her hair… but she fought it down at the sight of the wide eyed Morgan.

“...Holy fuck. Ponies actually burst into flames when angry? I thought that was just a one time joke!” He nearly shouted.

Trixie just shrugged. “Unicorns have a lot of magic coursing through them, not just their horns. Some weird biological quirks are to be expected…”

Morgan suddenly looked worried. “...What about my anger problem?”

Oh boy, Trixie hadn’t thought about that… “…Trixie will teach you a fire-extinguishing spell. Just in case...”

Morgan suddenly went very, very still. As if he had seen something wondrous that the slightest movement would scare away…

Trixie has dreamed of this moment.

Trixie gently took both his hands, looked him into the eyes smiling and said: “Trixie would love to call you apprentice, Morgan. You just have to say the word…”

Morgan’s face… almost flickered, as if he simply couldn’t decide how to feel…

But Trixie’s mood and ears fell, as he finally decided on a somber one. “...You don’t want that?”

Morgan looked down on the floor. “...Why now?”

Trixie let go of his other hand, and patted his other. The one still glowing like a tiny fire. Trixie had literally seen ponies calling themselves archmages capable of lesser at their best… and this was just Trixie leaching magic from him.

Trixie felt so, so foolish. So many years of potential learning, missed.

“...The thought that humans might actually have magic never occurred to Trixie. Trixie was just so used to the idea that horns equals magic that… that it never occurred to her. It was another reason I could barely stand when you read those books.” Trixie lifted her eyes from Morgan’s glowing hand and focused on his reserved face. “...Can you forgive Trixie?”

It looked a bit sad, but he did smile at that. “What? Forgive the wonderful mare that has thought me so many things, just because something slipped her mind?” He ruffled my mane with his other hand, making me yelp. “What is there to forgive?”

I blinked a few tears away at that. “...Oh, Morgan… That was so sweet of you…”

He blushed slightly and scratched the back of his head. “...I guess I don’t have to ask that question now…”

My right ear flicked in annoyance. “Morgan, stop being a tease. Out with it. Both of them.”

“...I thought…” He took a deep breath and his eyes drifted to the floor again. “That you might have not wanted to teach me because of the… Nightmare thing.”

I let out a deep and annoyed sigh. “Stop that, Morgan. You’re no more that creature then I am the same mare that embarrassed almost all of the Elements, only to need bailing out from one of them, all those years ago…”

He looked me in the eye again, and smiled once more. “Thanks… hearing that means a lot to me.”

“Good.” Trixie smiled back. “And what were you thinking earlier?”

Morgan let go of Trixie’s hooves and leaned back against the wall, staring towards infinity. “...This is just a… hypothesis, if you will…”

“...Yes?”

“Discord had this no killing rule, right?” Morgan shrugged. “Never got why past ‘Kids show, duh.’ but it was one of the few things he took dead serious, right?”

I shuddered at the memories of that… thing. “As loathe as I am to praise anything about the son of a nag and a overgrown lizard… But yes, I believe so.”

“Forcing somepony to be reincarnated into somebody… without actually killing them.” He waved his hands vaguely in front of himself. “Would that not imply...that the original bodies are not only around, but kept alive somehow? Discord never seemed the ‘continuation of the Mind is enough’ type, to me…”

My jaw fell, before I near whispered: “...Do you think that… there’s a way to get my body back, then?”

My ears fell as Morgan slowly shook his head. “Before I start changing? I’m so sorry, Trixie… But I honestly don’t even know where to start.”

Trixie nodded. She had thought as much… but that hadn't stopped the mote of hope from flaring in her heart.

Morgan continued. It was obvious he was trying to distract me as much as he wanted to talk about his idea… but I thought it a nice gesture, so I didn’t mind. “Well, I’m not going to mince words for a mare that isn’t here. Old Edith was a withered twig… but new Edith is…”

He stopped, at a temporary loss for words.

“...A photoshoot away from being a bucking bikini model?” Trixie volunteered.

Morgan barked out a laugh. “I was thinking of a polite way to say ‘smoking... for a tiny, green horse’ to a another mare... but sure, that works.”

Trixie's brow furrowed in concentration.

Morgan suddenly looked worried. “...What?” He asked nervously.

Trixie gently put a hoof in Morgan’s lap. “Trixie is going to warn you… If this transformation works by mashing the old with the new…” Trixie took a deep breath. “Then your horizons are probably going to be broadened. Just saying.”

Morgan suddenly looked cautiously optimistic. “...How broad?”

Trixie rubbed her hooves together, feeling a slight blush form on her cheeks. “...Trixie is something of a…omnivore, when it comes to certain appetites, let us put it like that…”

Morgan hummed thoughtfully… before just shrugging. “Thanks for the warning, but I don’t think I needed it.”

Trixie’s ear flicked again. “That’s it? No other reaction?”

“Meh, I would be more disturbed by a narrowing.” Morgan just shrugged again. “You're talking with the resident sense freak, remember? I was already OK with the whole female thing…”

Trixie gave Morgan a disbelieving look, but he just put his arm to his forehead and ‘swooned’ in a dramatic fashion. “Oh, no. The one thing that is male exclusive now a days, siring, traded for its female equivalent, birthing? How ever shall I deal with that, longer lifespan, better orgasms and similar…” He let his arm fall and his features darkened. “When I’m most likely going to be single before the day is over anyway…”

There had been nothing joking about the last part.

Trixie didn’t know what to say, so she leaned over and hugged him instead.

Morgan gave a quick squeeze in turn, before gently pushing Trixie away. “Thanks… but how about we perform that small test and then go see the others? Me having to tell Tina is a couple of hours away after all…” Morgan said with a waxy smile.

Trixie didn’t buy it for a second, but she saw no harm in it. She gave him a nod. “Trixie is going to dispel the current one, and recast is focusing on the recording room… OK? You just keep calm and still, and try to focus on if you feel anything peculiar, OK?”

Morgan gave a small salute… but Trixie saw him hesitate. “Yes, Morgan?”

“...Do you want me to do the whole calling you Master or Mistress when we do this stuff thing?” Morgan said hesitatingly. “I don’t have a clue if ponies have that tradition, but I thought I should ask…”

For a moment Trixie’s heart caught in her throat. She… never thought…

Trixie smiled wide at that, wide enough that she heard a small squeak. Such a sweet, clever child… “That’s more of a formal thing, Morgan.” Trixie gave a small shrug. “We actually find any others mages to be formal with, then sure…”

“Gotcha, boss.” Then Morgan redid his salute, looking so serious it was silly just because of that.

Trixie gave Morgan a light glare. “Trixie will be fine…”

Morgan gave Trixie this just adorable pout... “...Seriously, not even the ‘The Great and Powerful’ bit?”

Trixie rolled her eyes. “Morgan… you’ve read too many bad fantasy novels. Do you have any idea how irritating even hearing one’s title in every sentence is?” Trixie jabbed Morgan playfully on the arm. “You will call Trixie, Trixie…” Trixie said half-jokingly. “and like it, Mr.”

Morgan’s lip twitched. “‘You will call Trixie, Trixie?’”

Trixie couldn’t help but smile a bit herself. “‘And like it, Mr.’ Get it right.”

“Fine, Trixie… but the others are still waiting,” Morgan said with a twinkle in his eye. “Shall we?”

Trixie nodded, before closing her eyes and… savoring the moment. Dispelling a spell like this was foal’s play, you more or less only had to ‘let go...’

But it was the first time in far too long that Trixie had… been. Even simple things like how gravity pulled all of her down had a novel edge to it Trixie had almost forgotten…

Trixie jerked slightly, as Morgan gently put his hand on my side. “I know it must be wonderful to just be walking around again…” He said. “but I sadly think you're onto something with the no public appearances yet thing.” He gave me big smile. “But I have vague plan if telling Tina goes about as well as I fear… Just hang in there until then, OK?”

Trixie gave Morgan a puzzled look.

But he just chuckled. “Tell you later, OK?” He rubbed his hands together, grinning like a child at Christmas morning. “Now, do that thing you do and remind me of the babe!”

Trixie gave him a level gaze. “Morgan, I’m not doing that.”

“Aww,” He said, looking disappointed. “Sorry, but I had to try.”

Trixie was just about to crack a joke that he might have another reason to like that movie soon… but he got a thoughtful look before Trixie could do so. “...The musical thing,” he said. “any truth to it?”

He even looked and sounded… worried of all things.

Trixie just had to stare at her companion. “...Seriously? That you're worried about... but not the sex change?”

Morgan shivered slightly. “Most musicals freak me out. The spontaneous songs that nobody notices just make no sense. In Labyrinth it’s at least Jareth being weird.”

Trixie was just about to roll her eyes… but stopped. “...You actually have a point.”

Morgan blinked. “...I do? I thought I it was just mostly a joke that led us onto a conversation...”

Trixie took a deep breath, before pushing on. Morgan’s leaps of logic can be so… aggravating, sometimes. “Just tell Trixie the shortest song you know. Trixie is curious and wants to see if anything happens.”

Morgan nodded, scratching his head while he thought. After a moment he looked at me and snapped his fingers. “Princess of the Night!”

Trixie cringed. She did not care to be reminded of that...nag. “Seriously, Morgan. You know what I think about Luna…”

Morgan shrugged. “Do you know of any other songs not even a full minute?”

Trixie put her head in her hooves and groaned. “...Fine. But you know it’s a duet, right? Trixie refuses to sing the part of Luna and Twilight…”

“...I thought you liked Twilight?”

Trixie’s ears fell. “...Trixie went on the run after Twilight got backstabbed by Discord, OK?” Trixie’s eyes drifted to her horn. “...Trixie never got a chance to show her up. Or… even say goodbye. Trixie is just… conflicted about that.”

My eyes fell on the floor. “And I actually miss them… Crazy, huh?”

Morgan quickly scooted over and gave me a hug. I returned it and leaned against him.

“...Hey,” he said. “Edith got whatever happened to… me, as well, right? I must admit I’m not certain how different she might be, but…”

“...It would be nice to meet my rival again…”

I saw Morgan smile in the corner of my eye. “You know? I’ve always admired that about you…”

“...What?”

“Most would have seen those wings and horn... and just given up on the spot. But you pressed on. Against what many would consider a goddess trained under the mistress of the sun… and you still held her as your personal goal post of who to surpass...” He patted me gently on the side. “Don’t you ever stop having that type of ambition, you hear? It’s one of your finest qualities and don’t you dare forget it.”

A small smile twitched into life on my lips. “...Do you think I could have done it?”

Morgan patted me on the back. “Trixie, Twilight is scary. Remember how bleeding Spike entered her life? And it might have been with that amulet, but you still made her resort to trickery. As far as I’m concerned… you already have.”

A smile tugged at Trixie’s lips… but she simply had to shake her head. “Thank you, Morgan… but the damn thing was wearing me. It wasn’t my victory…”

Morgan looked uncertain. “...Fine, but only because you said so.” He stroked his chin. “What do you suppose happened to the thing, anyway?”

Trixie hesitated for a moment, then gave a shrug. “...Trixie knows it ended up with Zecora… but that’s it. She might have tied it to a stick and used it as a back scratcher, for all Trixie knows… or cares.”

“Just saying, a power booster that only you yourself can take off… Sounds like a decent enough thing to try if your back is against the wall anyway…”

Trixie couldn’t stop herself from shivering.

Morgan grimaced. “Sorry, sorry… It was just theoretical, anyway…”

“Don’t worry, Morgan. Trixie understands…” Trixie forced a smile. “How about we get on with those two tests?”

Morgan cleared his throat and swept an arm towards me as invitation to begin…

Trixie took a deep breath and started drawing in the local magic, letting it sweep her away… Trixie couldn't even remember the last time she’d performed a musical number, but it was just one of those things you never forgot the feel off…

And Trixie paused, as it did feel different… but Trixie couldn’t put her hoof on how. She was certain it was different, but her memory was too fuzzy to say how…

Trixie ended up just shrugging mentally. It felt different, but it didn’t feel bad. Buck, for all Trixie knew it might simply be how rusty she is…

Well, no time like the present to fix that.

Trixie started bobbing her head… and grinned wide as the magic responded and the proper notes started filling the air.

Trixie just had to grin. Trixie’s still got it.

Morgan grinned almost as wide, his foot stomping the beat…

Trixie reared, throw her hooves in the air and sang.

[Buy some apples!]

Trixie couldn’t help herself and used an illusion to ‘conjure’ the armor of nightmare Moon… and a dunce cap. Morgan visibly had to bite back a laugh.

[Buy some apples!]

Morgan sang ‘Twilight’s’ part decently, but it was clear to Trixie he wasn’t actually part of the magic in the way Trixie was at the moment… still, he put the words in the right place and that was enough to keep it going.

[Buy some apples!]

Morgan was getting into the swing of it, and throw his arms out a flourish at the next bit.

[Buy some apples!]

Suddenly Trixie felt the magic surge and before she could stop herself…

[Buy some ap-]

“Ugh,” Trixie groaned as she came to. “My bucking head…”

Trixie slowly scrambled to her hooves, looked up…

Only to see her old wagon.

“What the buck…?”

It was night, but even in the gloom Trixie could see the familiar library forest. There were odder things and creatures present, but most of the place was taken up by the trees. Living and growing bookshelves that acted as both guards and nest for the flocks of books that flittered from shelf to shelf…

An odd place to be sure… but Trixie simply couldn’t help but smile a little at the sight.

Now, the part of where Trixie was not that hard to figure out… but what was she doing back in Morgan’s mindscape? Trixie never dispelled the projection…

Trixie looked around at the tiny ‘clearing’ among endless bookcase trees reaching towards the heavens that marked her corner of the mind…

She looked up, just to be sure... but only saw the glittering sea of stars and radiant moon she had grown accustomed to..

Yes, she was definitely back... but how?

And why was the place so subdued? Normally there were books flying everywhere and all sorts of ‘figments’ and memories flickering about… but at the moment, the place was completely still.

“Trixie? You OK?”It came from nowhere and everywhere, as Morgan projected a conscious thought at Trixie.

Normally it would have made the entire ‘world’ quiver slightly in resonance, but even that felt subdued…

“Yes, Morgan. Trixie is alright,” Trixie said out loud. Morgan gave a relieved sigh that made the whole place tremble in response to the released tension, but Trixie just willed herself to remain standing. “...But what the buck happened?”

“I’m not going to sugarcoat it, Trixie.” Morgan hesitated for a moment… but only one. “You somehow did the ‘Talking load should do the trick!’ part in the actual royal voice. The head of your avatar just popped like a balloon.”

“...You’re kidding,” was all the response Trixie managed.

A humorless chuckle echoed among the shelves...

Then it continued straight onto near hysterical sobs.

The books squabbles and fidgeted deeper into their shelves, as a warm and salty rain started falling.

Trixie did her best to project a feeling of calm. “Shhh, Morgan. I’m fine, you don’t need to cry like that…”

The rain stopped, as Trixie more felt than heard Morgan took a deep breath.“...I’m sorry, but…”

A tremor Trixie thinks was the result of a shiver raced through the place.

“...You just went… pop.”Morgan projected, sounding much more reserved than usual. “I could still feel you, but you wouldn’t answer and…”

Trixie hushed him. “Give me a moment, I’m coming out again…”

“Don’t reappear in the computer room, trust me.”

Trixie hesitated. “...That bad?”

Trixie could actually feel how Morgan was beginning to calm now that she was once more talking with him. There was even a gentle breeze now, making the pages of some of the books flutter. Some of them even began preening, looking completely relaxed on their shelves.

“A water balloon filled with… huh. A clear slime that is slowly evaporating into nothingness… Is that what I think it is?!”

“Ectoplasm, yes…”

The moon grew a bit brighter, and the breeze warmed a few degrees in tact with Morgan’s mirth..”...Taking the ghost routine a bit seriously, are we?”

Trixie chuckled slightly at that. “Morgan, let me make a new one and Trixie will explain face to face, OK?”

Trixie didn’t waste more time and instead started weaving the complex spell…

The place grew still again, but this time from Morgan giving Trixie his complete attention. The sudden if subtle mental pressure was a bit distracting, but nothing Trixie could not handle.

Then Trixie remembered something, making her spell die before it could even become more than a tiny glimmer on her horn. “Morgan, one thing.”

“..Yes?”

“Trixie isn’t certain how much you can feel of it, but never, ever do the first part of this spell. It’s dangerous.” Trixie made sure there was a edge to her voice when she said the words. “Trixie is not bucking kidding. Unless you get her permission to try you are not even to think about it, got it?”

There was a strange sensation as if the world itself had rolled its eyes at Trixie. It was as infuriating as it was nauseating. “Trixie... I am a bit weird, not stupid. You didn’t need to say more than that it is dangerous… but care to say how?”

Trixie just had to smile at the note of concern in the last part… “It’s called ‘Silent Blade’s Leaching, it’s a spell to drain the magic of an area and add it to your own…”

“Ah,” Morgan ‘said.’ “I take it that magic overload without being able to actually release it in a surge is somewhat unpleasant?”

Trixie fought down a shiver at the memory of the illustrations Luna had shown her to convince her that it was not a spell to be trifled with. “Yes, yes it is…”

Magic might need quite a bit of coaxing to kill… but sometimes it makes you wish it didn’t.

“Got it. I take it you using it in my mind is how you're tapping into my magic? Does that make a difference in the risks?”

Trixie puffed her chest out. Trying that spell had been a brilliant idea, even for Trixie!

A ghostly sigh echoed through the stacks, making some of the more skittish books take to the skies. “Trixie…”

Trixie’s ears flicked in irritation. “Any risk would be to me. And since Trixie is fairly certain she cannot die as longs as you do not will it…”

Another shiver made the place shake. “Please don’t say stuff like that…”

“Sorry,” Trixie said, feeling a bit guilty. “Trixie should have put it better…”

“Glad to hear it…” Morgan ‘said’ sounding a bit more chipper than what actually sounded realistic. “But can you do your thing soon? The others are starting to give me worried looks…”

Trixie didn’t need more prodding than that.

Trixie tilted her head back, gathered the necessary energy…

And then started to let it go, but still keeping a connection to it. It was a bit draining, but worth it.

To untrained eyes it would look simply as if Trixie was standing by her wagon with a glow not actually doing anything…

Anybody with training would by now be running for the hills, as the slight tint tint to the local magic would scream to them that they were in the presence of a true master… or a suicidal fool.

Either way, a show best watched from afar.

A glow started filling the entire clearing, strong enough to be visible even for untrained eyes. Trixie had to concentrate completely on the task…

...Trixie took the luxury of allowing herself a tiny gulp.

Complete concentration… and that was with the next best thing to a Genius Loci that wanted Trixie to succeed on hand. And in his very center of power, at that.

...Trixie hated to admit it, but on this point Luna had been correct. This was not a spell to be trifled with.

And to even use it properly, you needed enough focus to cast a second spell simultaneously.

...I hated to admit it as well, but I’d… gone far from being that arrogant show-mare.

A sigh forced itself out of me, as I started to weave the yet unnamed spell. I only it had been because of me, rather then my bucking pedigree…

I had to resist a urge to grit my teeth as my perspective lurched and shifted to the recording room.

Damn that mare. Damn her for making me feel special… only to then tell me why like fucking that.

I took a deep breath to center myself. That wound was old. Picking on it would only make it fester more deeply.

Luna simply wasn’t worth it, one way or the other.

I opened my eyes and… actually had to fight back a few tears, my earlier grief almost forgotten.

The room wasn’t much. A sofa, a table, a screen, a few tripods for cameras…

Hesitatingly, I floated over the controller Morgan had left behind earlier to my own grip. It felt… surreal, to finally get my own chance to actually hold one of the things. It was bulkier than I’d expected, but lighter at the same time. I gingerly pushed a button with my other hoof. That to, felt surreal.

...And completely wrong in combination with hooves, interestingly if expected enough. I gently floated it back to its place.

I couldn’t help myself, and jumped up into the sofa. It protested a bit even with the illusion no doubt being lighter than my real self, but it held.

I just sat there and… drank in the place for a moment. It was so strange to be in a place for the first time I’d years of happy memories from.

I heard the door click open, but I just felt to… nostalgic to care much.

Tim of all that might have done it sank down next to me. “...So, you’re back. How are you feeling?” He asked.

“...Did I really go ‘pop’?”

Tim made a disgusted face, and shifted his weight around a bit. “...We heard it all the way to the cafeteria. Both the song and the… pop.”

“...Ew.”

He jerked a thumb backwards over his shoulder. “...You want to inspect the damage before the mess fades completely? Might be useful info for a Mark Two…”

“...Trixie must admit… Spellcraft usually doesn't work like that, but then again Trixie has gotten quite another perspective on things thanks to this world…” Trixie rubbed her head, thinking it over. “...Can’t hurt. If nothing else, Trixie might be able to dispel the… chunks. Should make cleanup easier.”

Tim nodded absently, staring off into space.

“...Is everything alright?” I asked. “...I don’t want to pry, but… Well, you're sitting next to your friends imaginary friend and you seem to be distracted by other matters…”

He hesitated, before looking my straight in the eye. “...You and Morgan…” Then he drifted off, at a loss for words.

“...Yes?”

This just wasn’t like Tim. He looked like he didn’t know if he should laugh or cry… and had something on his back, weighing him down.

A strange inkling of a suspicion snaked through my head… But surely not, right? That can’t be it, right? “...Do you have anything you would like to tell Trixie?”

Tim went as still as a corpse.

No…

I took several deep breaths, just not to scream at the top of my lungs. If this really was… another survivor and I’d known his or her host for years…

Let’s say property values would probably go down from the amount of times I’d be banging my head against walls alone.

Tim sagged. No better word for it. Like a piece of starched cloth that had gotten wet. “...I… thought I had two guardian angels…”

...Wait, what?

I gently put my hooves on his nearest hand and squeezed it gently. “...Tell me.”

He poked his temple with the index finger on his other hand. “...You know my headaches? They mean well, but they’re loud. I don’t think they're… exactly normal.”

I raked my brain, trying to figure out who… but I didn’t like the only names that came up that might fit that description and have a reason to cling together. “...Is it…?”

That actually made Tim bark out a laugh. “I’m fairly certain if it was the Royal Sisters… then they would have just told me.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding. My grief with Luna aside… I don’t think my friend’s mind would have survived that merger. No matter how shiny and promising the drop of inc was… I just couldn't imagine it doing much to two oceans.

He ran his free hand through his hair. He just… looked old. I hoped it was the stress of confiding this, rather than anything else. “...I’ve asked their names, but… they claim they don’t have any. ‘Only titles’ whatever that means…”

I got a lump in the pit of my stomach. This was starting to sound more and more like… Well, hardly guardian angels. “...What titles?”

Tim blinked. “...Oh, son of a…” He gave me a awkward smile. “...Never thought to ask that. Never cr-” He stopped mid sentence and gave off a wince. I saw how his nosebleed started up again, but it seemed as if… he was listening to something.

...I wanted to think it was somepony, but I just couldn’t bring myself to even think it.

Then off all things…

Tim let out a strained laugh that frankly didn’t sound sane… and then he facepalmed.

“...Care to explain that reaction?” I simply had to ask.

He mumbled something into his hand that I couldn’t quite catch.

I freed my hoof and jabbed him in the shoulder. “Come on. Spill it. If you have some manner of cosmic horror in your head… the sooner I hear those titles, the sooner I can do something to help...”

I had to admit, I’m not sure what… but I’d be damned before I let a friend be lost to something like that without trying every damn trick in my arsenal.

“...The Headless Horse and The Olden Mare.”

I tilted my head. “...What?”

He leaned back and gave me an irritated glare. “You heard me. Apparently I’m destined to become a PG rated Freddy Krueger.”

Trixie gave him a glare of her own. “Tim, nightmare’s walking the real word is no laughing matter. You sure about those names?”

“Titles.”

“Whatever!”

He shrugged. “They’re adamant about it.”

Trixie took a deep breath and put her head in her hooves. “...Please, let Trixie think.”

Tim leaned against the armrest and kept silent. Good.

I started massaging my temples, trying to remember what… Luna had told me about the subject.

...Next to nothing. A brief mention of the rare occurrence being nasty, and nothing more... Because the subject disturbed her. Damn that mare. How the hell can somepony with that amount of power be so damn shortsighted?

I did remember one thing though… I looked at Tim. “...You sure there’s two? Nightmare’s strong enough to have a will of their own are supposed to be fiercely territorial…”

He tilted his head to the side, ‘listening’ again. “...The Olden Mare says: We like each other. Deal with it.”

I rubbed my temples again. “...Really?”

“I quote,” Tim continued. “‘Did you expect something about shoes and rust, little show mare?’” Tim’s brow creased, before continuing. “‘...We’re both ex toys of that nag. Surely you can understand wanting a life outside her considerable shadow?’”

I took a deep breath… and carefully honed my magic sense. It was… a ghost of a ghost, little more than a vague colored outline in the air behind Tim... but I saw them.

The Headless Horse was just… lounging in the air over Tim’s left shoulder. Her coat a purple almost dark enough to be black, aside from two lighter streaks in her tail. As large as her name implied, but… it was as if she was far away, and yet hanging over Tim’s shoulder. One hoof folded over the other, as if laying in the grass while watching a interesting show without a care in the world. She, naturally, had no head, but I still got this sense she was staring right at me. It was an interesting contrast actually. Aside from the obvious, she was… beautiful, no words to mince about it. Healthy looking, strong, hooves that were thick enough to speak about earth pony heritage, but slim and graceful enough to look as if they belonged on a unicorn...

Her empty neck leaned slightly in a grim caricature of somepony tilting their head. There was nothing cute or cuddly about that bit. I caught a glimpse of the jagged ends of muscles and the gaping holes of her windpipe and esophagus before she leaned back again… and spoke.

“My, DeAr LoVe...I tHinK sHe MaY sEe Us…”

The sound was… grating, even at the volume of a whisper. I could most definitely sympathize with Tim, if this was what he had to listen to each time she tried speaking.

Tim mostly looked confused. “...What’s going on? I can almost hear them, but…”

I raised my hoof. “Shh. I’m pushing my magical awareness enough that I can see and hear them. Please, let me concentrate…”

Tim actually looked relieved at that. “Please, take your time. I’m certain they mean well, but… they’re a bit overwhelming. Somebody beside me for them to talk to would… be very nice.”

The Olden Mare was over his right shoulder, in a similar position to The Headless Horse. She had, interestingly enough, chosen to disregard most of the ‘uniform,’ only keeping the black tattered cloak.

“So she does, so she does… Intriguing.” She chuckled merrily, sounding more like a approving and proud aunt, then... Death. A single red eye looked down on me, looking… gentle of all things. “You’ve come far, little Bellatrix. Your so called mistress should be proud…”

Her voice was… normaler, but not by much. It had this strange aftereffect to it, an ethereal echo I would probably have missed if I hadn’t been pushing my senses as far as I was. It was as if the magic of the room slightly resonated in tune with her when she spoke.

I fought down a urge to bolt. There was two ponies I knew of that had that effect on the local magic field… and I really didn’t want to find out just how much else The Olden Mare had in common with her creator.

“...Nopony has called me that since I was seven.” I knew it was a bit… lame, but it was the only thing to say that crossed my mind.

She chuckled again, making her white mane bob a little. “Sounds about right. Forgive me, Trixie. I simply don’t get out much nowadays… Not like in the… old days, at least...”

I gulped. About seven… That… that did sound about right.

She held up and looked at one of her gray hooves. A hoof I noted, that had a shiny new shoe on it. She smiled softly at the sigh. “You will need to take our word for it… but we have no quarrel with this world. Quite the opposite, in fact.” Tim was leaning back, pretending to be asleep. She leaned down and… petted him on the head, her eyes tender. “Our only interests are to keep our sweet little ward here safe, and to remain free of that nag’s influence. Nothing more, nothing less.”

The Headless Horse looked on. I could hardly read it in her face, but something in her posture told me she… approved. “A wOrLd Of ChAnGe, AnD cHaNgEd We HaVe… HoPe As AlWaYs FoR bEtTeR, bUt TiMe ShAlL tElL…”

“...That’s it?” Was all I could think about to ask.

“...I really hate hearing half a conversation…” Tim muttered.

Both of the… nightmares looked sad at that. The Olden Mare stroked Tim’s head again, but more… gently this time.

As… sad as the sight was, it did convince me that… they were being genuine. It just didn’t look like it was an act aimed at me.

The Olden Mare let out a sigh. “...Hopefully his new form will be more capable of hearing us.”

The Headless Horse let out a sigh of her own, if with a more… gurgling quality to it. “...HoPe So. NoT sUrE iF i MaY tAkE iTs AlTeRnAtIVe, BuT hOpE i HaVe…”

“...What are you talking about?”

“...That’s what I’d like to know…” Tim muttered to my question, looking irritated.

Once more, the sadness.

I thought about it. Me and Morgan… but not being able to talk with even him, without risking damage?

I never thought I’d feel it for two nightmares that specializes in frightening foals… but I pitied them.

I gathered magic to my horn… and cast a simple illusion.

To me, nothing much changed… but Tim jerked back as if slapped. Staring near unseeingly towards the ceiling.

In an instant all the joviality of the two were gone, and instead they were glaring at me. The room near darkened as The Headless Horse growled at me. The Olden Mare was more restrained, even if I swear I felt heat on my face from her gaze. “...What. Did. You. Do?” She forced out from behind clenched teeth.

For a moment, i wondered if they had enough strength to affect the waking world… Not like it would matter. There is only so many nights you can wake screaming before your
mind snaps like a rotten twig.

The atmosphere was tense, risking to become outright violent at any moment…

Right up until Tim reached up, and pulled both of them into a tight hug.

For a moment, all was still… then the duo hugged back.

...Can’t say I’ve had many of them, but I recognized a tender family moment when I saw it. “Should last an hour or two. Just ask again if you want me to redo it…” I said as I rose to leave and give them some privacy.

“...Thank you.”

“...MaNy ThAnKs…”

I awaited a similar sentiment from Tim, but he was seemingly at a loss for words

The big, goofy grin I caught sight of while heading out told me everything, anyway.

“Wait.”

The Olden Mare’s voice called me back, just as I had my hoof on the doorknob.

She gave the stunned Tim a quick peck on the cheek, before freeing herself and bouncing over to me in something between levitating and jumping.

She came to a stop right in front of me. “Your ward is as wise and clever as he is broken, Trixie. I thought you should know.”

I fought down the irritation at the ‘broken’ comment. It might be right, but it was hardly nice to remind me off it. “...Yes? What do you mean?”

She waved a hoof, and an image simply was in the air. A combination of her own power to shape things imagined and my illusion, no doubt.

The window showed what almost looked like a dark sky, with clearly illuminated white clouds somehow containing stars. Unlike the fascinating glimpse of a similar place the show had given me however, these clouds billowed as if caught in a eternal storm. The whole place was like that. Wheres the one in the show, and presumably the one ‘in’ Equestria was still, this one raged. The stars seemed to not gently light up the dark, as much as they fought it off. The clouds were not gentle refuges from the day, but these angry wisps that raced across the void. Even the dark of that seemed… hungrier somehow.

And it wasn’t empty. Hundreds, no, thousands, perhaps even hundred of thousands of ponies hung in the air. Most of them seemed to be asleep, but I saw some poor bastards that… wouldn’t wake, to put it in a milder term.

The more I looked, the more tiny specks I saw. And they weren’t even only ponies. A few dragons, some gryphons… Heck, I even saw what seemed to be a group of sea ponies in the distance.

What caught my eye, aside from the place itself however, was the Changelings. For every three, four colored specks on this sky, there seemed to be a black one with holes. I guess a certain bastard didn’t care for competition in his toy box, because I even saw Queen Chrysalis herself floating nearby.

...The strangest thing about that… was her smile. As if she was having a pleasant dream she didn’t care to wake from.

“The fool thought to keep us in cheek with dreams and sleep,” The Olden Mare smugly said to my side, but I barely heard her. “But it pleases me that we were not alone in our… wake, so to speak.”

The image shifted, as if moving rapidly. “My love and I are quite good at walking between the worlds that aren’t quite real. Even this is no exception…”

It came to a halt… showing what…

What was left of me.

Gall rose in my mouth. I’d tried to forget, I’d really had…

It was more… correct to say that it was Morgan’s body. A… deal is a deal, after all.

For all the good it would do both of us.

M- Her body was mangled. Jagged spikes of bone poking out of her legs in far to many places for there to be much hope of them ever working again, her jaw twisted enough that it was clear she might never speak, a horrible gash on her trunk that had…

I blinked, as my eyes recognized what they were seeing. What looked like magic had been forged into a thread, and used to stitch the wound closed. It had even healed partly.

I turned from the grim scene, giving The Olden Mare a look. She just gave me a nod. “Our wards are friends. We have done what we can, but her wounds were grave and… she rests uneasy because of them.”

The Headless Horse spoke up. “ShE sTiRs SoMeTiMeS. OnE oF fEw ThAt DoEs.”

My eyes drifted back to… the scene, and I forced myself to look closer. The glowing silvery thread the two had made was actually a stark contrast to her sapphire blue pelt… but I simply hadn’t looked that closely. Most of the tended wounds were minor, no more than scrapes… but a few like the tear in her trunk was massive.

“In truth, we were quite surprised when your ward met ours. We have tried to tend them all, but… We are but two and… there are so many…”

“MiLlIoNS. FoR aWhILe, We ThOuGhT ThEy WoUlD oUtNuMbEr ThE sTaRs…”

My eyes drifted to one of the corpses. An earth pony mare with green mane and a light brown pelt, her cutie mark a topaz that still glimmered softly in the light. She looked mummified, but other then that the only thing wrong with her was that her right foreleg was missing at the shoulder.

The Olden Mare let out a sad sigh. So strange, for one patterned after one of the faces of Death to care so much… “...Sometimes despite our tending and the paradoxical kindness of this demiplane, they just… fade. We now think we know why…”

“LiKe YoUr ClEvEr WaRd SaId. ThEiR ‘lIfE sUpPoRt’ hAs… FaIlEd. ThE oNe LiNk To LiFe ThEy HaD, sEvEreD...”

“...Yes,” The Olden Mare said, as the view shifted slightly. It showed a… graveyard of a sort. No caskets or anything, but in this place the corpses laid in neat rows. The same silver thread used for surgeries formed into ropes, and tied into letters spelling names and dates. “We have… sadly fallen behind in this. The living simply require more at the moment.”

I scanned the… rows, trying not to linger on the names. Like the earlier mare, they were remarkably well preserved. Despite the whipping of the clouds, the air around them was still. As if even the wind of this place respected the dead.

...A strange insight came to me. Somehow I knew that that wasn’t it. The place respected these people because they had been robbed of their chance to fight their fate. They had been thrown into this place, and left until… this had happened. No escape, no chance to break free, no foe to best…

Just a endless, peaceful slumber.

I shook my head to clear the strange thought… only to get a strange impulse the place found me fighting its influence off amusing. Even so, no more ‘insight’ came to me.

The Olden Mare was giving me an interested look, so I hid my moment of… whatever that was by taking a closer look at the graveyard…

They were mostly intact but many had, just as the mare, pieces missing. A ear here, an eye there, a neat scar that never had the chance to heal over a organ in other places...

“:..Is that why some have… bits missing?” I forced myself to ask. “...Emergency surgery?”

The Olden Mare nodded.

A mental image formed. Two, if not the two, of the oldest and strongest nightmares of my world performing surgery. Hooves turning into razor claws, only to carefully cut away what couldn’t be saved…. The two flowing between targets faster than a pony could gallop… to aid as many as they could… Grim, bloody claws tearing organs out… so that somepony else would live...

Like the two themselves, there was a strange contrast in it. The kind and civilized, set against the cruel and savage.

“...We suspect your ward is right. Perhaps being half awake in such a place offers insight? If so, our work was probably unneeded and the merger will repair such things…” The Olden Mare looked thoughtful. “...Still, we would rather not risk something like that.”

She tilted her head, as if listening to a voice only she could hear. “...Ah, speak of the devil, as the local saying goes…”

The view shifted again, showing a pegasus with black fur and a striped mane. I vaguely recognized his cutie mark, a storm cloud with a single bolt under it, but I couldn’t place him or it. A fan that had caught my eye? A ‘background’ pony that had done the same? Either way irrelevant, but I couldn’t help but wonder it for a moment.

Unlike most of the inhabitants that were as still as the corpses they floated side by side with, he was trashing.

I had to take a step back and nearly puked, as I recognized why.

His cutie mark dimmed… and slowly faded away. For only a moment, his eyes opened and he cried out in alarm. Something about “No, not her!” but his voice was so unused and cracked I couldn’t make any details out. Then, like a light-bulb being turned off, his eyes fluttered closed again… and he went still once more.

“...What… was that?” Tim asked, taking my words out of my mouth.

“First sign of a awakening,” The Olden Mare simply stated. “The other parts goes later…”

“Intriguing,” Morgan said next to me, making me nearly jump out of my skin. “but what about organ rejection?”

I turned my head around. The others had gathered outside the now open door I hadn’t even heard open. Even the one’s like Mrs. Smith that had no doubt been waiting for and preparing for the poker game. The thin, tall woman was not somebody I’d spent much time with, but I respected anybody that made others smile as often as she did…

Right now, she wasn’t smiling… Granted, she wasn’t frowning either, but she was clearly tense.

...But considering how Mr. Smith held her hand hard, I turned back. It seemed he was handling helping her handling it.

The Olden Mare was smiling at Morgan. For a moment, I felt a jab of jealousy, but I fought it down. “No.”

The image reshaped again, showing… one of the surgeries. The mare with the topaz mark from earlier but looking… fresher, and a royal guard still dressed in the bent and smashed ruin of his golden armor. As we watched, a gigantic grey dragon’s claw started cutting away the foreleg of the dead mare. The claw wasn’t even attached to anything, it just faded away into thin air.

...The strangest thing was that it was… almost gentle. The minimum amounts of cuts needed, and what I guessed to be The Olden Mare even took time to clean of the blood after the limb was free.

A silvery nimbus covered it, and it floated over to the guard. He twisted in mid air, showing how his foreleg was this twisted mess of ruined flesh only held together by… his armor.

It took me a moment to recognize the type of armor. because it wasn’t the type normally used. No, this was the older, more completely covering type intended for actual war, not the light guard and policing duty The Royal Guard normally dealt with.

The silver glow enveloped the armor, folding it open as if it was tinfoil. The gray claw dragged a single talon through the top of it, before letting the… mess drift away.

The guard didn’t even twitch.

Quickly, so fast I almost lost track of it, the foreleg was pressed against the guard. Silver threads formed, and started darting in and out of the leg and shoulder, binding them together.

No sun was visible in the place I now more than suspected was this Earth’s magic field made real. I didn’t know much about those kinds of demiplanes, but I knew they are important in how cutie marks functions, and even ascensions… Even so, a shadow formed and passed over the limb. When it had gone over, the foreleg was not only attached, but identical to the one presumably lost.

Why the heck had Discord stuck everypony in such a place?

In the memory, the now whole stallion started drifting away. Perhaps it was my imagination, but it seemed as if he now had fewer hard lines on his face.

“Is that satisfactory an answer, Morgan?” The Olden Mare asked with a proud smile.

“...Is that possible on this plane? Or is a… what did you call it? A demiplane? Is one of those needed?”

She gave him a sad shake. “In places nearly unreal such as that, my love and I can change things…”

“...Like a lucid dream?” Abraham asked.

“ExAcTly.”

“A pity.” Was Morgan’s simple reply. “Perhaps a way to enter such places may be made? Still, that is a long term project if I ever heard of one…”

A soft pat I recognized as a mass of hands being slapped against faces sounded across the room.

Abraham let out a sigh. “Morgan… The two most infamous nightmare’s of ponykind are showing us their slideshow of gory surgery pictures… Can you please focus?”

“I am focused. That nifty trick of theirs could unmake any problems with organ rejection!”

Both The Olden Mare and The Headless Horse let out laughs in perfect tandem that made my skin crawl.

The Olden Mare gave Morgan a big, warm, genuine smile. “We do so enjoy a man with prejorites… and a strong stomach.”

“InDeEd. HiS nIghTmAreS aLwAyS tAsTe So... InTeReStInG.”

The Olden Mare let out a longing sigh, and licked her lips. “Like the one last month with the piles of maggots walking around in brides dresses, trying to eat him?”

“Or ThE oNe LaSt HaLlOwEeN, wHeRe HiS cOnSoL tRiEd To PlAy HiM?”

Morgan let out a thoughtful sound, completely uncaring about the odd looks he was getting. “...I don’t remember having a single nightmare for years by now… Should I say thank you, or was the meals enough?”

The Headless Horse let out a disturbingly girlish giggle. “AnD sO pOlIte…”

“Not needed… but a kind gesture child. You are quite welcome.” The Olden Mare gave her partner a strange look. “...But shall we spoil it for them, or is it more amusing that they find out for themselves?”

The Headless Horse started clapping excitedly, like a foal seeing something neat. “Oh! Oh! Do It! OuR fRiEnDs TeArS wIlL bE dElIcIOuS!”

I heard a few gulps, but Morgan just chuckled. “I like these two!”

“Morgan. The rest of us don’t have a death wish. Stop encouraging the nightmares made manifest.” Mrs. Smith snapped at him, as she ran a thin hand nervously through her black hair.

Morgan gave the woman a salute. “Yes, Sir!”

“Morgan, I’m serious.”

Morgan deflated. “Fine. But I’m betting that if they or Tim had grief with us… We’d already known it.”

The Olden Mare chuckled. “Clever, clever child…”

Morgan nodded towards the image. “Besides, I’m feeling a bit generous with the good will considering that. Nothing forced them to act as custodians in that manner.”

I nodded, showing my agreement.

The Olden Mare smiled proudly, and The Headless Horse near glowed with pride. Tim just let out a chuckle, looking proud on their behalf.

Edith cleared her throat in the back of the group. “...I must admit, I’m still reeling a bit from… the real real ponies thing, but…”

“YoUr DaUghTeR's DaUghTeR lIvEs.” The Headless Horse volunteered in her voice of razors and stripped gears. “ShOw HeR wE wOuLd, BuT sHe Is AlReAdY AwOkEn…”

Edith blinked, and a single tear rolled down her her cheek. She wiped it off, looking… puzzled at it. “...Where?” She asked carefully in a voice almost not a whisper.

“WhAt NaMe Is WoRn By ThE lAnD oF saUsAgE, bEeR aNd OpErA, lOvE? FoRgEt ThE nAmEs I dO. So MaNy LiNeS oN tHe MaPs In ThIs WoRlD…”

“...Ger-mane-y, I believe?” The Olden Mare answered. “I must admit, they tend to blur together a bit for me as well…”

“...Kinda sounds like it,” Mr. Smith volunteered.

Morgan raised a hand. “Before any half cooked plans to run off to Germany are made… Perhaps we should listen to what that ‘spoiler’ these teases want to share? I got the feeling it may be important…”

The Olden Mare gave us all a wicked grin, before waving her hoof and reshaping the image again. “Let’s say… that my love and I take extra care of our friends… and those that have impressed us.”

A shiver snaked down my spine even before I saw the image. A line of ponies, almost like the graveyard from earlier, but…

They were clearly alive, but unlike the stillness of the graveyard… this place was alive with conflict. Star filed clouds billowed under them, as if the plane itself had formed something halfway between a slab and a sick bed. And around them, a wind that was nearly a wall raged. It should have been deafening from the looks of their manes and pelts, but the air was only filled with this strange whisper.

The entire row was resting on those cloud-beds, laying on their stomachs and heads neatly resting on their fore-hooves. It actually reminded me of the tales of warriors sleeping under mountains near every region in Europe seemed to have. Guardians and defenders, just waiting for the horns to call them once more to battle…

And just like that, the sound in the whispers made sense. It was this… strange symphony of hunting horns, clashing steel, cracking guns and shouts. As if some mad dirigent had tried to lead a battlefield’s sounds… only to have it listen. All far away enough you could almost ignore them.

“It is a bit nonsensical in a place without even up or down…” The Olden Mare explained. “...but this is… a Hall of Heroes, you could almost say. This, unlike the other images, is not memory by the way.” Her wrinkled face turned thoughtful. “...And my love and I didn’t make it. It simply… formed a year or two after the… last arrival.”

The room grew silent at that. What stake would this world’s magic have in… us ponies? Troubling…

I started checking the ‘VIPs’ to see what could be learned...

At the far end… Laid actually Queen Chrysalis. Almost unwounded, and unarmed, but she did wear the strange beetle shaped armor of her people. Now that I paid attention to her, she was even wearing the helmet for once. Aside from that… Just the same big, stupid changeling as always. I ignored her, and moved on.

Morgan slash me wasn’t much of a surprise. From the winces from some of the group they must have missed he- hi- our injurious before. “...That certainly explains a few things…” Morgan muttered, a anger in his voice I don’t actually remember when I last heard so strongly before.

Then he barked out a laugh. “And that, certainly explains a few more things,” he said, pointing towards a spot on our trunk. It was hard to make out, but I could just barely…

“...No,” I whispered.

The damn amulet. Still intact. Still around our necks.

Having done Harmony knows what damage for the last twenty-five years.

“...Damn,” Tim exclaimed. “You actually have a cursed artifact to blame for your horrible temper?”

“How’s that for a horrible moral?” Morgan quipped cheerfully. “It’s really not my fault! Mom and dad is going to go spare!”

I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the room pass over me… but I couldn’t do much about it. Morgan liked to joke about stuff that worried him, and he’d just got snappy if you tried to make him stop.

Next was… I almost thought it was a ponified version of Frankenstein's monster. The… thing was near covered in the silvery thread from earlier, despite the merger of tissue the two nightmare’s were capable of in that realm. She I realized as I looked closer was… a artificial alicorn, made by somepony that had only the briefest of concepts of what that implied. Covered in what I suspected was black dragon scales from tail to all three heads, and with two giant dragon wings at her side…

Even without the dual changeling horns jutting backwards from each head in a V, she was a monster.

...But I had to admit, with that silver mane and tail, and a head taller than the princesses? She looked fierce, but I couldn’t help but wonder what she might look like actually walking about. Her lack of a cutie mark was a bit jarring… but she was a pretty monster, no doubt about that bit.

The Headless Horse throw her hooves into the air. “SuRpRiSeS!”

The Olden Mare flashed a proud smile towards Tim. “Happy early twenty-fifth birthday, dear! We hope this makes up for all the ones we’ve missed!”

Tim’s eyes promptly rolled back into his head, as he fainted.

Morgan broke the awkward silence by giving a small clap. “A lovely gift. I’m sure he only needs to get used to it...”

Nobody else said anything.

“Thank you for the kind words,” The Olden Mare said in a slightly sad voice, as Abraham and Mr. Smith hurried to put Tim into a recovery position.

I ignored the drama, and continued to look across the image.

I almost thought the next on the slab was a failed prototype or something… then I realized I was seeing bat wings, not dragon wings. A almost forgotten lesson lurched to the forefront of my mind…Bat wings, hooves that looked sharp and long fangs just jutting out from underside the lips of the white pelted mare. I sucked back a breath, and fought down a curse. “...Is that a vampony lord?”

“...Better question,” Morgan interjected. “Is that freaking Vinyl Scratch?”

I blinked. It was, but I’d almost hadn’t recognized her because her cutie mark was wrong. The note was still there, but it had… electron orbits around it, of all things. “...What the hell happened to her?”

“ShE gAvE tHe LoRd Of ChAoS a BlAcK EyE, bY tEaRiNg BoTh Of ThEm OuT… TwO eYeS, fOr OnE hEaRt LyInG bRoKeN iS fAiR bArGaIn, YeS?” The Headless Horse calmly explained from her spot on the sofa backrest from where she was keeping an ‘eye’ on Tim. She looked almost as cat, once more using her control of her avatar’s size to her advantage. The optical disconnect from something that big and far off being also only a couple of meters away lying clearly over a couch made my eyes water. “ThE cHaNgEs ThOuGh? WrOuGhT bY tHiS wOrLd…”

I and a few others in the room nodded absently. Considering the picture of Equestria’s final days things pointed to… Vampony or no, a lot of people would probably want to shake her hoof just for the attempt at killing the bastard.

Abraham barked out a laugh. “Damn. She actually kept the freaking glasses. How about that?”

I leaned closer to check. He was actually right. They had fallen off her, and was lying next to her head… but they even looked intact.

“...So, any idea what happens to that gear when they ‘wake up?’” Abraham continued. “No skin of my nose, but some of that just screams enchantedplus freaking twelve gear. I can’t help but wonder what we could learn from it…”

“I would also like to know…” Morgan piped up.

The two nightmares giggled, as if sharing a private joke.

We all ignored them, instead inspecting the last members of the ‘hall of heroes.”

“...So freaking called it,” Abraham told Morgan smugly. “You owe me a bag of candy.”

Morgan hummed absently, his focus mostly on the mint green changeling. “...Guess that explains Skyra…”

It took me a moment to make the connection. “...That’s Lyra?”

“Looks like it,” Morgan said. “Can’t see her cutie mark from here, but those colors and that grin? Has to be her.”

And she was indeed grinning. Wide enough that we could see individual teeth.

I had to admit, once I managed to look past the holes and gossamer thin wings… She did look like the mare I’d thrown bits to a few times when she performed… I guess that was the point, but I still felt a chill at never even having suspected it.

“...Aren’t changelings supposed to be black?” Mrs. Smith asked in a careful voice.

“A civilization of shapeshifters, right?” Morgan offhandedly answered. “Probably their version of a military uniform…”

Abraham chuckled. “Well, anyway somepony seems to be having a pleasant ‘dream’...”

Near everybody in the room shared a chuckle at that. If only they know… I’d actually been in her ‘sanctuary’ once. Books, dolls, knickknacks…

I took a moment to absently wonder what that might be like? Turning into your object of obsession… only to turn back again? Still, I could hardly ask the mare, but it was an interesting bit of philosophy...

Next was… Soarin. I blushed slightly. I’d fantasized about that pegasus enough times during this ‘exile’ of mine to recognize him. The sky blue pelt, the dark blue mane… That was the hunk in question, alright.

The Wonderbolt captain was in remarkably good shape. A few tears in his flightsuit, and a lens cracked in his flight goggles… but other then that, he didn’t seem to have a scratch on him.

There was seven more slabs, but only one more was still occupied. The other five presumably already ‘awoken.’

That last one was the Empress of The Crystal Empire herself in full battle gear, but still. Part of me hated to admit it, but even for somepony like me that had had most, if not all illusions of the pegacorns grandeur rubbed away by stuff like seeing Luna comb twigs out of her mane, or Celestia scratch lettuce off her teeth… it was still a damn impressive sight.

She was wearing the heavily decorated armor of the crystal empire’s guards, the only consent to her rank a thin band of gold around her helmet… As if it was needed with the hole for her horn, and the slits added for her wings, but it was… a worrying gesture. The whole thing was made from a silvery metal with a crystal sheen to it I didn’t recognize.

The most disturbing thing was her weapons, though. Near two dozen knives lying in neat rows beside her, a dozen on each side. I even recognized the type, a nasty piece of work called ‘Wizard’s Talon.’ Looking almost like a propeller, with two curved blades instead of a handle. You used them by lifting them in the air with your magic, and spinning them like freaking buzzsaws. The ones at Cadance’s side was nasty ones even by that standard. Small holes strategically placed to make the knives whistle as they zipped around, and judging by the heat haze and slight glow to them they were heavily enchanted as well...

Frankly, I’d pegged her more as the same type of fighter as her aunts. Armored and weighted horseshoes just in case, but primarily reliant on her magic… That she might be more of a scrapper had never even crossed my mind.

As sad as the implications were… Love had clearly sought to make War… And Love had not conquered all things.

I barely dared imagine what the moral damage from that might have been. The others… Sure, a impressive display… but one of the immortal pegacorns not only failing, but actually falling?

“....The other six… Are those the former beds of the Elements?” Morgan asked.

The Olden Mare shook her head. “...Almost, not quite.” With a wicked smile, she pointed a hoof at…

Straight at Edith.

“That crazy old nag?” She continued. ‘The crazy old nag’ herself snorted at the words. “My love and I wasn’t there, but the rumor at the time and what we saw in dreams?” She shook her head, her single eye sparkling. “When Discord claimed Applejack, she almost carved Discord’s kidneys out with a kitchen knife.”

The Olden Mare chuckled at Edith’s shocked expression, as we all gave her a reevaluating look. “You should have seen how both Royal sisters worried so about that. The mortals aren't supposed to be able to do such things, to interfere like that, without aid…”

“GiVeS tHeM… iDeAs,” The Headless Horse chuckled out.

I looked closer again. It was almost lost in the picture, because at the range involved it was only this thin sliver of silver and ruddy brown… but there was a knife on one of the empty slabs. The darn thing was… wrong. Rust danced up and down it, only to be replaced with metal that gleamed as if it was freshly forged. It was subtler, but something similar was happening to the wood of the handle. These thin lines of rot that snaked around in the wood like worms, only to disappear soon after passing.

The way it pivoted slowly around on the very tip of its own blade, as if looking for somepony? Didn’t exactly help matters.

“...I don’t remember,” was the only comment Edith managed to force out. I risked a glance at her. Her eyes were locked on the knife, and I don’t thing she noticed herself… but her right hoof was twitching, as if trying but failing to grab something. I looked away before she noticed.

...Only to notice myself that the damn knife stopped rotating for a second, every time Edith’s hoof twitched.

“Intriguing, right?” Morgan whispered to me. “From kitchen utility to that…”

“Sad,” the more talkative nightmare answered Edith. “A tale and a half, I suspect. Please do share, if it returns…”

Edith gave her a quick nod, before The Olden Mare turned to Morgan. “But yes, the other five were indeed occupied by the Bearers…” A frown creased her face further. “...minus proud Rainbow Dash. We have no idea what befell her.”

Morgan started stroking his chin. “...My genre savviness, AKA my cynicism is tingling. I think I’ve figured it out, but why don’t you just say it? I wouldn’t want to steal you and your lovers thunder…”

“Ah, SwEeT oF yOu, MoRgAn,” The Headless Horse said, approval somehow shining through the other sounds of her voice. “My DeAr, ThE hOnOr I lEaVe FoR yOu…”

Abraham paused in helping a groggy Tim upright. “...What are you talking about?”

Mine and Edith’s ears perked a bit more literally… but I didn’t doubt the same was metaphorically the same with the others.

A slow, terrible smile came to the old mare’s face. “May I ask first, what you thought of seeing… such a room full of heroes? It is hardly every day such a group is… seen.”

The bottom dropped out of my stomach, and I vaguely felt my plot hit the floor. I heard a similar sound from Edith, and a creak of bone as Mr and Mrs Smith held hands hard.

“Just imagine, what such a group might be capable off!” she continued, as the rest of the room was dead silent.

The Olden Mare’s smile grew even wider. “After all, in that place of honor lied all that managed to make the bastard bleed…”

“Or SuFfEr, EiThEr Is A dEeD. He Is ThE FoRcE oF cHaOs InCaRnAtE, dEsPiTe AlL…”

Abraham glared at The Olden Mare. “Just say it.”

With a shrug and still smiling, the old nightmare did just that.

“So, my friends… Tell me, did you enjoy seeing your old selves?”

Author's Note

A bit of trivia.

This chapter contains the name Trixie 291 times.

And finally we're starting to get close to the interesting stuff. Only took me twelve chapters and a hundred and ten thousand words to do so! :pinkiecrazy:

Thanks for reading!

Chapter 13 - Honey, Honey, How You Thrill Me... Part One (NSFW)

This chapter is Not Safe For Wooona!

Meanwhile, in Kiel, Germany…

“God-dammit all, where is that stupid thing?” I muttered under my breath, while trying not to actually inhale any of the drifting clouds of dust.

I’d spent nearly an hour going through the dusty old attic, but alas, my query had proven elusive.

Just as I was about to give up, a fluttering of tiny wings darted directly for me. I couldn’t help but turn my neck and smile as a tiny weight nestled on my back just between my wings… even it it made them flutter a bit from the touch.

“Oh? Did I find a good spot?” my wife said in her new high-pitched voice, sounding utterly mischievous. He rubbed his tiny blue hooves along both borders were orange fur met equally orange feathers, turning my knees to jelly and making my involuntarily trust my rump in the air. “Ye~es!” he drawled in that gosh darned German accent that had made me pop the question all those years ago in the first place. I was just about to protest that this was hardly the time when he near jabbed his hooves into both my sides, making me let out a throaty moan that made me blush almost as much as trickle that had started flowing down the insides of my hips.

With quite the effort of will, I raised my head and gently shook him off.

Seab— Asta let out a giggle as he tumbled away and took to the air. “Come on! Those wings and that horn aren’t fooling anypony…” My cheeks near caught fire as he growled seductively at me. “...my sweet girl.”

I’d tried to ignore the leaf-green light now filling up the attic, and how my wings was near throbbing... but a certain perverted breezie was making it rather hard.

Something large, blue and pink landed on my nose; making my pupils turn into tiny pin-pricks as my eyes landed on something that also was rather hard at the moment. “Say…” Se- Asta growled suggestively as he near marched up my nose and gave me a peck straight between the eyes. “...if I took you up the nose, would that count as skullfucking?”

I snorted before blowing upwards, making my horndog of a wife fly away with a tiny “Ee~ek!”

“Come on!” he protested as he struggled free of an old cobweb. He gave me this adorable pout and crossed his fore-legs as he hoovered… well, at the ready. “We haven’t as much as petted since this mess started! Can’t I at least give you a horn-job?” The sultry look I was being given jumped from the megawatt range, all the way to jottawats. I swear I felt the air heat a bit from it… or perhaps that was just me. “I’ll even swal~low…” He poured on the accent as thickly as possible, while making this rather obscene humping motion mid-air that made my knees go wobbly. “Riding it like a stripper-pole, while smacking it and giving you dirty talk in German the way you like, you naughty girl!”

My mind betrayed me and I actually ended up picturing it. I swear my cheeks caught fire as a few green sparks fired from my horn.

I let out a groan and forced myself to sit down so I could bury my face in my hooves.

Something small but warm landed in my mane. I felt a bit better as Seabr- Astra started stroking the crown of my head. “Come on, Applejack. Face it, we’re probably stuck like this,” he said in a gentle voice. “I’m just trying to make my special somepony realize I don’t give a damn as long as we’re both together. You know that, right?”

“That’s not my name, Asta…” I muttered but my heart simply wasn’t in it. Any pretense I’d had that it was just a sick joke from sufficiently advanced aliens or whatever, had kind of just faded away as Honesty made manifest had slammed into existence inside my sternum a few hours ago. The orange and green gem was one thing, but how I’d started getting this certainties as soon as anybody spoke? Just seemed like it was far too much for any joke.

Abandoning any pretense of even trying to look human, I just sagged down onto my stomach and the dusty floor. I honestly wasn’t certain if I should growl or purr as Seabreez- Asta started rubbing me gently behind the ears.

“No offence, Prinzessin…” I murmured happily as he started literally massaging me behind my right ear, both from the gentle touch and hearing the old pet-name I’d gotten. It might have become more than a bit ironic and changed from Prinz thanks to this debacle, but it still made my heart flutter every time. “...but is this so bad?” He let out a tiny content sigh that made my pulse spike for a moment. “I realize it is a bit strange, but you would not believe how soft a throne your pretty new mane makes…”

I let out a neutral grunt. The tattered shreds of my masculinity hated to admit it, but damn did this body come with a upgrade in that department. It looked as if somebody had taken the gleam of gold, nicked a few stars from the heavens and somehow glued the mix to my head and butt.

Seabreeze moved to my left ear and started rubbing it down. A coo I couldn’t have stopped even if I wanted forced itself out of my throat as he continued. “How delightfully soft this this new pelt of yours is…”

“Was that some type of body-hair jab?” I murmured happily. “Because it kinda sounded like one…”

My breezie boyfriend leaned forward and gently gave me a love-bite on the ear, almost making me swat him off with it, but Seabreeze just dodged and laughed as the limb whooshed past him. “I didn’t say a word that I didn’t like the old one!”

I gave a snort, but at the same time I couldn’t quite stop a smile. “I wasn’t that hairy…”

We just laid there in the dust and silence for a bit. It was really, really nice, not only to have my lover just galloping up and down my back giving every bit that caught his eye a rubdown, but just the silence and being able to pretend things were normal for a few glorious moments. For an hour or so, we were just two lovers, distracted by each other while up in our attic.

No magic crap.

No circular philosophizing.

No existential dread.

No freaking worrying about pants…

Somewhere along it all I’d started smiling wide with my eyes closed as Seabreeze just buzzed about working the kinks out of my back.

Just a boy fussing over his girl, trying to cheer her up. As far as normalcy went, I think I rather liked it.

Felt darn peculiar to think of myself as the girl in that equation, but there’s only so long you can lay on your freaking teats and feel a cool draft over your marehood before you kinda have to wake up and smell the —Ha!— roses.

That, and perhaps it was the mental changes I’d felt and tried not to think about…

I felt my cheeks heat again as Seabreeze started doing his best to preen the wings I’d rather neglected for a while now.

...but the idea of being his Mrs. just didn’t sound so bad.

I had to grumble out a “Stop. Not there.” as Seabreeze started trying to give me a tail massage.

“...Why?” he asked in a puzzled voice.

I took a deep breath and tried to ignore the burning of my cheeks. “Because even the thought is making me wink and I’m not ready for that yet.”

“You sure?” Seabreeze asked gently, hooves just resting on the base of my tail but not rubbing. “Because I’m going to be honest, Prinzessin, you’ve never been quite this pretty in my eyes…”

Something warm and nice welled up in my chest…

Sadly, the same plus another damn wink and quite a bit of wet stickiness happened under my tail, rather severely freaking me out again.

With a sigh that sent a warm shiver down my spine Seabreeze took to the air. He hovered near my face on those pretty near silent wings of his before giving me a tiny peck on the cheek. I get a pet on the same spot as I blushed happily. “Take your time, Prinzessin…” Just as things actually started feeling a bit romantic again... I got another ogle from my little horndog. “...those hips are worthy of near any wait!”

I let out a hot snort and turned towards the old boxes and various detritus again. “How about you make yourself useful and help me look instead?”

“Sure, sure…” Seabreeze said neutrally as he flow over and lit his antenna, illuminating the corner of the room far better than my ratty old flashlight had. “So, why do you have dust up to your elbows?”

I took a deep breath. “Promise me that you wont laugh.”

Seabreeze landed on one of my old telescopes before giving me an odd look. I cringed slightly as his eye lit up and he patted his head with a grin. “Feeling a bit nude, are we, dear?”

I swear, I turned redder than my b- Big Mac for a moment before I mumbled out a simple yes with my face buried in my hooves.

The utterly perverted grin I saw when I dared to look up didn’t exactly help matters. “Never had a girl with only a hat on!” he said, hardly helping matters.

I gave of a snort and a single flap of my right wing, making the giggling perver fly off towards the very end of the attic. “I’m sorry, Prinzessin…” he said with a kind smile as he came drifting back, “...but you just look so utterly adorable with those freckles, and especially when you blush that I simply can’t help myself.”

I fluttered my eyelids at him half-jokingly. “Oh my Ritter… what is a poor princess to do with a dashing knight who thinks so little of decorum?”

My… well, I was rather certain he wanted to do something to my virtue at least, gave me a huge grin and rubbed his hooves together. “The dungeons, the chains and the riding crop?!”

I sighed, even if it was with a smile. “Good to know you’re still thinking with the same head as always, at least.”

My col— boyfriend flew over and settled on my head again. “How about this than, my fair Lady?”Until you find a headpiece worthy to rest upon your golden stresses I could valiantly serve the part?”

I aimed an eye up at the whisp of pink and the upside down smile I could barely see leaning down. “Have you been reading the dictionary and trying to write poetry again?”

I got another small love-bite on the ear for that one. “Oh please, you blush like a virgin seeing a cock for the first time if I so much as go ‘Roses are red...’ Admit it, Prinzessin, you love it and don’t even try pretending otherwise.”

Seabreeze yelped slightly as I reached up and grabbed him. I had to be a bit careful with his wings as I lifted him down to my chest, and to not give him a giant hickey were his face should have been with my kiss… but judging how he was soon near purring against me I’d gotten my message rather well across.

Still, certain things simply can’t be said enough. “Fine. I love you and your little poems,” I gave the grinning and dewy eyed breezie another peck, as well as a careful stroke on the chin. “Just give me a few more…” I hesitated and sucked in a breath. “...however long it will take for me to actually come to term with the whole mare thing.”

Seabreeze did his best to give me a hug, while resting his tiny head against the fur just above the Element I still didn’t quite know how to feel about. “I love you,” he simply said.

I felt a few tears fall. It had already been a bit too long for my taste. I’d nearly thrown up a few times just from going online and trying to read news and crap like that… but hearing words like that, and on some level knowing them to be true? So freaking worth all the other crap.

I held my love a bit closer. What more could I possibly do, to do something like that justice?

“Hey, wanna bang now?” Seabreeze asked in a chipper voice.

In answer, I bopped him on the back of his head. Had to admit that it made me smile, though.

I made my way down the ladder with my husband slash hat along for the ride, and headed for the kitchen.

Before long, I had something resembling breakfast sizzling away in a pan, while Seabreeze bussied himself with a jar of honey, a teaspoon and a grin so wide I had to bite my lip not to laugh at.

“You know?” Seabreeze said between licks of a long, hard object covered in honey I was trying not to think too much about. “I’ve figured something out.”

“Oh?” I flipped the slice of bread I was frying with a flick of my magic and the pan. “And that would be…?”

“I’m basically the breezie version of Chuck Norris.”

The pan crashed into the ceiling and spilled its melted butter all over my back. Aside from a nagging voice telling me it should have been a much larger issue than that, it just felt slightly warm as it started dripping down over my fur as I stared at my miniscule husband. “...Go on.” I said as the toast landed on my horn with a splurt.

Out of old habit, he started counting on a hoof as if he still had fingers. “I’ve got enough honey and syrup and sugar to feed an entire breezie city, and I got my greedy little hooves on it myself! I’ve owned cats. I’ve caught myself one of those hot-shot pony demi-goddesses and she turns into this adorable puddle if I as much as scratch her behind her adorable ears.” He wiggled a wing, and a wind somehow sprang forth from the tiny oven fan and ruffled my mane. “Heck, with the weather around her actually working the four winds are mine to command!”

I couldn’t help but chuckle as I pulled my cackling little megalomaniac over with my magic and gave him a peck. I carefully ruffled his pink rat’s nest of a mane with a hoof. “Glad to hear you're keeping things neatly centered and in perspective!”

Seabreeze eyed the toast stuck on me with a gleam in his eyes. “...You gonna eat that?” He gave me a wink and a tiny nudge. “If you know what I mean?”

“Really?” I deadpanned. “You want to nibble toast of my horn?”

Seabreeze just started nodding his head like a tiny hyper metronome.

My eyes drifted to one of the bottles of liquid honey on the counter. “Oh, fine,” I said as I floated it over. I swear, my horn-hound of a husband’s eyes near popped out as I started pouring the honey out all over my horn and the toast. “But only because I’m in need of a shower anyway, and you will owe me for this.”

With a squeal of joy so high-pitched even my new ears barely cough it, Seabreeze all but pounced my horn and started nibbling on its rather silly looking passenger.

I shook my head slowly as I started cleaning up.the mess up. It was a bit distracting having my tiny stallion crawling all over my head and making moaning noises as the bit of fried bread slowly went away, but this was hardly the first time I’d slobbered myself in honey to distract my beloved pervert with a sweet-maw, so I managed.

Naturally, just because of that, the dang doorbell rang.

Both me and Seabreeze froze on hearing that.

“...Probably just a door-to-door quak, right?” Seabreeze said while forcing himself away from the toast on my horn. “Nothing to worry about.”

My heart near jumped into my throat as I heard a key turn in the lock. There was only a few I’d given copies, so that… Oh God, no, not right now!

“I’m telling you, Harald!” a nasally woman’s voice I know far too well said, before the giantess of a woman all but stormed in with a tiny man with glasses and his nose in a thick book he didn’t even look up from. “It has to be drugs! Why else would our son write and tell us he’s turned in-”

I gave my mortified and staring mom, and as usually oblivious dad a half-hearted wave and a what might be the most awkward smile I’ve ever had on my lips. “...Hi, mom. Hi, dad. Fancy seeing you here in Germany.”

My dad actually lowered his book down far enough to give me and Seabreeze a once over with those mint-green eyes of his. His grey eyebrow rose slightly, before asking in his thick austrian accent. “...What’z ze mazz of ze planet Jupiter…”

“1,8986×10^27 kgs,” I mumbled out on mortified autopilot.

Dad raised a finger in triumph. “Aha, but I waz not zer finizhed! Ze planet Jupier’z moon Callizto!”

“1.075938×10^23 kgs,” I said, trying to ignore the feel of honey slowly dripping down my cheek before adding, “...Plus minus 0.000137.”

Dad gave me a smile that made my shoulders feel lighter by several tons, and a nod before diving headlong into his book again. “Very zer good! Glad to zer brain of my litte aztronomer iz ztill zer brightezt zstar of zem all.” He wiggled his thick mustache at me in a way that made my cheeks catch fire, before meaningfully patting his shiny, bald head without looking up. “You may wizh to invezt in zome more wearablez zen your honey and zer regurgitationz of Apis mellifera, however. People may, you know, perform zer ‘talk’ otherwize.”

Mom, who had been gaping like a fish and showing me her tonsils, finally had her eyes roll back and gently folded in two onto my floor.

Dad just rolled his eyes. “Meine Liebe, ztop with zat. Our zon haz juzt turned into zer winged unicorn. It’z iz zer not like zhe haz forgotten zer raida of Marz, or anything equally actually dreadful.”

“3 396,2 plus minus 0,1 km at the equator, 3 376,2 plus minus 0,1 km at the poles…” I answered, still not quite believing this was actually happening and running on autopilot.

Dad shot another proud smile my way, before gently poking mom in the side with his foot. “Meine Liebe, cut zer dramaticz already.” Dad waited a moment before giving another harder poke. “...Meine Liebe?”

Dad’s book landed with a hard twack after falling from his now slack fingers. He just stared slack jawed at mom for a moment. “My God! She actually fainted this time!”

It took me a moment to actually process what dad had just said. “WHAT?!” I shouted before rushing over as it finally clicked.

“Ich wusste es! Der verdammte Akzent war falsch!” Seabreeze mumbled triumphantly from atop my head, even if I ignored it as I levitated mom over to the living room couch.

Dad just snorted at him. “Ich habe nicht all die Jahre in der Schule verbracht um wie normale Leute zu sprechen!” he chided, but from the half-hearted chuckle he gave afterwards, and how his eyes didn’t leave mom his heart just wasn't in it.

I was just about to dart off to get the first-aid kit and the smelling salts, when mom started stirring. “Ugh… I had the most horrid dream!” she said with a hand to her forehead as she rose up.

She froze and went wide eyed at seeing me. i lifted a hoof and gave her a tiny wave and a waxen smile. “...Hi, mom.”

Without much fuzz, mom slumped back down again; out like a light.

I buried my head in both hooves. “Ugh… and the day was going so well.”

“...So,” Seabreeze asked in a careful voice, “I take it I’d get shouted at if I try to finish that toast?”

“Yes,” I growled while trying to ignore my dad’s giggles.

“Just checking.”

Author's Note

I'll just skip the "It lives! Muhahaha!" joke and move on.

So~o...

AJ slash Seabreeze.

Just me, or is that crack-paring a site first?

The original plan was for the, at the time, unnamed fiancee of AJ to end up a merepony, but then Ain't Easy Being Breezie aired and I just knew I needed to do this.

I just don't care if this is the thing that finally lends me in pony hell, this chapter was a hoot to write.

Edit* Thanks to FrozenSound for the fixed German!

Chapter 14 - Honey, Honey, How You Thrill Me... Part Two

It was more than a bit awkward, but with my freaky pony strength, dad prodding her so she wouldn’t fall off my back, and enthusiastic ‘moral support’ and ‘expert guidance’ from Seabreeze we soon had mom on the couch.

I fidgeted a bit at the sticky sensation as she slid off and landed softly on the cushions.

The leather cushions.

Yeah, that would be ‘fun’ later. Even if mom didn’t explode into a perfect drama storm from all this… Well, I was expecting some jabs regarding the couch going forward anyway, but how it had gotten slobbered in melted butter and honey? Not what I’d call a barrel of laughs.

I couldn’t quite stop a small smile and an aside glance at my little pervert; buzzing around making sure my mom was OK.

Let’s say it wouldn’t be the first time this couch needed professional cleaning for odd stains… and leave it at that.

Less fun was how I nearly bucked the same bit of furniture through the wall when dad gave me a small smack on the rump. I just barely managed to aim away from everything… but I swear I heard two whip cracks as my hind-hooves whistled through the air.

I growled and prodded my wide-eyed father in the chest. “Don’t. Smack. Me. There.”

Dad wouldn’t quite look me in the eye as he fidgeted down beside mom. “...Sorry, forgot about…” I immediately felt my heart sink down to somewhere past the lower mantle, as dad had to close his eyes and force the next words out. “...what a bad idea it is to startle a horse.”

“Oh, dad…”

I moved to rear up and pull him into a hug… but dad stopped me with a hand on straight on my new pet-rock. My heart actually skipped a damn beat; the thought of my dad not wanting a hug from me in this state… before I saw the soft smile on his lips. “Now, now, dear...We have a rule about you, hugs and sticky fluids, remember?”

The fire on my cheeks was not helped by Seabreeze piping up and trying to help. “Hey, I was helping!” He stuck his tiny chin in the air and crossed his front-hooves with a small snort. “Didn’t even pour any of it on her, this time…”

Dad got the slightly glassy eyed look he tended to get on hearing Seabreeze talk about me.

I took that as a sign to giggle nervously and sneak off. “I’ll just go clean off…”

Seabreeze let out a happy little gasp and smiled so wide I’m surprised his pretty little head didn’t flop clean off.

I rolled my eye… even if I must admit, I was smiling doing it. “And you can come to.”

Dad’s frowning in the corner of my eye made me turn my head. “...You two are just acting so… normal,” he said, gently sitting down next to mom.

The unasked question was, of course. ‘You really still in there, son? Or should I just grab my wife —a woman I couldn’t even lift on our honeymoon over forty years ago, and see how far I manage to get with her before I get galloped after?’

I felt my ears fold downward without my input. “Fine, I’m utterly terrified and worried it won’t be me waking next time I go to sleep. Both me an’ Sea- Asta are basically faking normalcy so we won’t go insane with dread.” I turned and forced a smile that felt fake even to me. “Better, dad?”

“...What the wifey said.” Seabreeze let out a wince, and rubbed the back of his head with a hoof. “Just with the wonderful bonus of being really, really damn glad we don’t own a cat at the moment.”

Dad slowly sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, and let it out again through his nose. “...I see; thanks for being candid.”

It hurt in ways I frankly barely had words for… but I forced myself to turn my head away, and point towards the outer door. “...Look, I’m happy you traveled all the way here, but…” I had to suck down a breath of my own to continue. “...but I’ll understand if that couch is empty once I’ve showered, ‘kay?”

I trotted off.

“...So, just what happened to the rest of you?” I heard dad ask behind me.

“What, the body mass? Hell if I know.” Seabreeze answered with what sounded like a shrug. “I just got this patch of blue fur on my hip out of nowhere as an extra gift on my and A- David’s birthday; while sh- he got that white telescope with apples on it.” Another rustle told me of another shrug. “And before I know it I was a winged smurf stallion married to a winged unicorn mare. Believe it or not, Harald, but we’ve kinda had more pressing matters to deal with then wringing our hooves and crying over: ‘Ze Science! She iz kaputt!’”

I took the soft snort from dad as a very good sign, as I closed and locked the bathroom door behind me.

I doubted I’d fit, let alone been able to stand upright in a normal shower… but luckily we have one of those tubs with an added shower-head.

I hesitated for a moment, before turning my head and shouting. “I’m gonna pour a bath to give dad more time to run if he wants! Do you want join, or do you prefer to do something else so he doesn’t think we’re boxing him in?!”

“...Only you, dear, only you,” I just barely heard Seabreeze sigh, dad chuckling softly in the background. “You know,” he continued, if in a raised voice, “most normal people would think you’re trying to hint at something with that…”

I gave off a loud snort as I leaned over and turned the tap. “Please, as if I’d need to bluff with even one horsepower if I for some reason wanted to go all ‘bug-queen’ on my reed-thin dad and currently unconscious mom I lifted to the flippin’ sofa…” I muttered just a little angrily while feeling that the water was a good temperature using my hoof. “I mean, it’s not as if I had a nightmare about my husband’s head going squish between my thighs last night, or anything…”

I fought down a shiver as the damn sound replayed in my mind; this horribly muffled crunch as my new marehood filled with something warm and squishy that had nothing to do sex.

Yeah, I think it said something about Seabreeze’s cunnilingus skills that I’d actually gotten as hot and bothered by that earlier massage as I had. Hell, I’m fairly certain people have joined nunneries for less than that nightmare.

“What was that?” Seabreeze asked in a hard voice.

“Nothing I care to repeat!” I quickly shot back.

My husband muttered something that got a small laugh from dad, but it was too low for even my ears.

Well, at least with the tap running so close. Small favors.

With a small shudder of contentment, I did my best attempt at a ‘dive’ into the warm water. Granted, it was more of a ‘step’ since with the whole quadruped thing I’d got going for myself right now since aside from needing to lift my legs a bit further I got in by basically walking, but whatever…

Still, soon enough I was laying on my back; nothing but my snout, horn and wingtips above the water; gently drifting off into the warmth...

Warm water in fur (Not to mention the other bits and boobs, but eeh.) felt surprisingly nice.

The feeling of suddenly weighing fifty kilos extra whenever I moved anything above the water, less so, but if I’m stuck with freaking earth pony strength I might as well use it, right?

I tried to put everything ‘pony’ out of my mind for just a blessed hour or so…

But a sigh forced itself out of my, almost giving me a mouthful of water and suds. Even with my eyes closed it was all just so…

Obvious.

The thing with how my face now sported a built-in snorkel. How my wings gently kept twitching, not really happy with the moisture all around them. How the human tub was just too thin and almost squeezed my plot, while leaving almost room enough for another pony lengthwise…

I grumbled slightly as my freaking tail started to twitch in irritation. So much for a few moments more of ignoring the problem…

A strange thought came over me, as scratching my chest I accidently touched my new bit of bling.

Was it simply too dishonest for me to be able to ‘lie’ to myself like that, anymore?

“...This statement is false,” I mumbled out, just above a whisper.

No response. Not as much as an itch.

“My name is Maximillian Roivas.”

No response.

I let out a small sigh of relief, and pressed on.

“My name is… ugh, Applejack.”

No response. I had no idea how to feel about it, but not as much as at tingle.

“I am the biggest whore in all of Kiel, if not Germany itself.”

Not as much as a slight discomfort.

I felt a rather big pang of irritation... but then I scratched my chin and remembered who’d I’d ended up marrying. “...Guess that one’s to open to debate...” I smirked out with a small chuckle.

My wonderful knight Seabreeze might be… but pure of heart he sure isn’t.

I just laid there for a bit, trying to figure out any good questions to test the whole ‘Honesty Incarnate’ thingamajig.

Was that it, perhaps? I was genuinely and in earnest, trying to test a supposedly magical artifact of —at least in part, Truth.

Could you tell an actual lie, when doing that? Because even if I went the ‘the sky is yellow, and grass is orange’ route, I was in a way seeking the truth, if not quite technically telling it. So in a way I was lying, but not actually trying to deceive; all while seeking the truth of what in all hells had freaking happened to me…

I rubbed my temples with both hooves, trying to fight down my new and shiny headache. “Ugh, and this is why I didn’t become a philosopher… Too much darn mental circle-jerking and not enough facts.”

With a splash, I used my hooves to grab the edge of the tub, and flop over onto my stomach.

Sent quite a bit of water onto the floor, but hey, that’s what the floor-drain is for, right?

It was only then I noticed what might have been the weirdest part. My wings, jutting out of the water and dripping moisture. My pelt, all but hanging of my frame, heavy with water…

And my mane and tail, as dry and pristine as when I’d jumped in.

In other words, my hair was apparently intangible.

I mean, seriously. What the actual fuck?

I smacked the water as hard as I could; sending what almost looked like the blast of a small anti-ship mine off; splashing the walls, floor and even ceiling with water. “CAN MY FUCKING BODY PLEASE STOP RAVAGING THE DAMN LAWS OF PHYSICS?!” I threw up my arms, almost causing a small rain shower for a moment from how much water I splashed around. “I’M NOT ASKING FOR MUCH HERE, BUT WHY IN ALL THE HELLS DO I HAVE GHOST HAIR?! “

Yes, it was petty. Yes, it was one of the lesser freaky bits. Yes, I was overreacting given that I was the wrong species and gender as last month.

But to my defense, I’d kinda made peace with my freakishly small but somehow functioning wings by remembering the once long standing mystery of the bumblebee. Just because nothing as far as I could see made sense now, didn’t mean there was a natural explanation sans ‘magic.’

My hair somehow not quite sharing the same set of dimensions and/or time-space as the rest of me? Unless I freaking concentrated hard enough at it?!

Kinda a bit beyond my weirdness horizon, no matter how much less white there was now on that map.

A tiny knock told me my husband was at the door. “You OK, dear?”

Managed to keep the sour out of my voice, but it was close. “I’m fine, just had a slight freak-out.” I sank down to my chin in the still warm water, trying not to mutter. “I swear, just as I’m over that dishing accident and the damn eye thing…”

“...You want company?”

Made me smile, and put some pep back into my voice. I’ll say that much. “No, dear, but thank you for asking.”

“...Dishing accident?” I heard dad ask softly, just next to the door.

Seabreeze let out a wince. “...Slightest chance you’ll drop it if I say freaky pony stuff?”

I could almost see dad squaring his shoulders, folding his arms, and glaring a nervous Seabreeze down. It didn’t surface often, but dad could be downright unsettlingly focused the few times something big enough to make his serious side pop-up.

So I decided to save my husband some grief. “Dad, stop glaring. I’ll tell once I’m out of the bath, ‘kay?” I hesitated for just a moment, before just blurting ´what I’d been thinking for a bit out. “But I think you should really consider leaving.”

A few tense moments of silence followed. “...Why?”

“...Dad, me and S- Asta have done a freaking PG-rated and copyright infringing Kafka. To be utterly honest, I think you and mom should run back to England and bunker down before they start closing borders. You know, let alone if this is actually contagious.”

“And you know many diseases that cause spontaneous hundred carat piercings to appear?” Dad countered without hesitation.

“Oh? And spontaneous species swap is any more common?” I counter countered, earning a hum of acknowledgment. I splashed a few times using my wings for emphasis. “Not to mention spontaneous freaking limb growth.”

I actually heard dad take a deep breath, even through the door. “...Look, I don’t know what is going on, but I’d like to believe I recognize my child, no matter what eyes they happen to be looking out of, and I am not freaking running back home for this.” The handle ratted around. “Now open this darn door so I can actually give that darn hug I clearly shouldn’t even have hesitation on.”

A goofy grin spread over my face, and I somehow got dust in my eyes despite being in a filled bathtub. “...Oh, dad.”

“Here, let me…” I heard Seabreeze mumble, just before a wind strong enough to be near a gale tore in through under the door, and somehow only rustled the contents of the room a bit, rather than throw it all around.

With a click I almost didn’t hear, the lock turned, the door opened; revealing my dad staring slack-jawed at my tiny, blue husband.

The later beaming proudly hard enough, he just might have been a hazard for flight lines, had he done it outside.

“...How?” Dad just barely managed, pointing at Seabreeze.

“Freaky horse magic,” my husband deadpanned, before flittering over and insistently ramming dad on the shoulder a few times. “Now go give my dear that hug.” A shade of grief flashed over his face. “Haven’t been able to do that properly in a while, so I think she needs one.”

With a grimace, dad fought down a tirade on ‘the M word’ and instead hurried over to me.

Without hesitation, dad sank down on the soaked floor, and pulled me into a hug.

Had to admit, the dust in here was getting bad. Dad twitched slightly as my soaked wings got added to the mix, but offered no protest.

Aside from Seabreeze bowling his little eyes out from atop the towel pile, it was quite the warm and fuzzy —no pun intended, moment.

“Am I a horrific little twit for wondering how loud you’d squeal if I pulled you down into this tub, right now…?”

For my bit of cheek, I got a not-so soft thwack on the back of my head.

Just made me chuckle, though. “Darn dust…” I muttered, wiping a somehow wet cheek off with whatever a horse’s wrist is called.

Dad just held me a bit tighter.

With a smile so wide it even hurt the freaking weird mix of play-doh and reinforced titanium my flesh had apparently ended up as, I rested my cheek against his chest and just basked in it all.

A distant part of me was all but burning with embarrassment on how having a nose full of ‘au the daddy’ was making the situation seem not even nearly as bad anymore…

The rest just didn’t care. Not enough to stop any time soon, anyway.

It seemed about five minutes of holding back his curiosity was dad’s limit. Still, a herculean task given the circumstances, so I took it as a compliment.

It felt really, really odd, even by my new standards on that, to have dad’s hand pass quite literally through my hair. I tried not to dwell too hard on it at the moment since I didn’t want to freak out again, but I swear I could even feel stuff like bones and his muscles moving about.

Some interesting implications there, sure, but still, eww.

“...You sure you want to do that, dad?” Was however what I said out loud. “Remember that nifty green rock they used to even put into toothpaste and stuff?”

Dad just let out a harrumph. “If hugging my son is the latest cancer warning, I think I shan’t give a damn…”

Dad then rather broke the mood by trying to tug on my hair. Keyword being ‘tried’ from how his hand kept passing through my mane with this frankly rather cute wide-eyed look of wonder plastered on his face… but still.

“You know…” I said just a bit sourly. “...you could ask first, dad.”

The tiniest bit of red snuck itself onto dad’s cheeks. “...Sorry, it’s just…”

“Quite possibly one of the scientific finds of the century?” I answered for him in a kinder voice. “Yeah, I know. Just wish it was somebody else’s body freaking out.”

Dad let out a hum of agreement.

“...Want to see a trick I figured out with it?”

Dad raised an eyebrow my way at my meek question. “...Sure?”

One of those annoying squeaks cut the air, but I ignored it as I grinned wide and started clapping my hooves happily together. “Yay!”

A soft, nostalgic smile near bloomed on dad’s lips. “...Not too old to show daddy what you’ve learned today, huh?”

I chuckled and rubbed the back of my head, as I felt my cheeks heat again…

Only to freeze, as for a moment I saw something, and it was simply so wrong… I couldn’t process it.

All over my bathtub, even from my dripping fur…

Droplets of water were detaching, and floating up and away.

Dad took one look at my face, came to the stunning realization that no, this was not the demonstration, and all but sprinted out the bathroom like a man twenty-year his junior.

As I came splashing down on the tiles a distant, not that nice bit of me noted cynically that having such a heavy wife must be good for something, but I fought it down.

Seabreeze came floating through the air at my side, looking uncertain.

“Can you get mom out with your magic?!” I shouted, as I started rummaging through the kitchen drawers for the biggest knife I could find. “You don’t have to get her further than to the car!”

I wasn’t very good at it, presumably I simply couldn’t believe with all my heart in the furthest star, or whatever, given how much my body seemed to work through ‘magic…’

But I shakily, I got up on my hind-legs, and with my wings flared out and back nearly as some twisted line-dancer’s pole, I just barely managed to stay upright with both my front-hooves on the cleaver I’d grabbed. As silently as possible with hooves, I hobbled over and stood guard in the doorway to the bathroom.

Call it a hunch, but I don’t think magic crap was happening because of a retired opera singer, a moderately successful astronomer, or a stay at home writer.

Now, the newly minted and wet-behind the ears PG-rated demigod who currently could barely walk and chew bubblegum at the same time without falling over?

I just barely fought down a gulp.

Yeah, that last one sounded like a price and a half to the right bastard, alright…

To my surprise, a man’s voice came from my bathroom, speaking in a vaguely Nordic accent. “...Oh dear, this won’t be much of a good first-impression.”

A small splash was followed by a mare’s voice that nearly made my eyes bug out. “...The water is still warm, Morgan. Trixie thinks we might have spooked somepony with our entrance.”

“Think they’re calling the cops on us?”

I silently swore to myself. Of course the freaking intruder had that idea before I had!

‘Trixie,’ even if I must admit I was suspecting a bluff, let out a hum. “...Does astral projections count as trespassing under German law?”

“Well, with our freaking luck, they’ll drag out some ancient ‘anti-witchcraft law…” The ‘man’ muttered before raising his voice to just below a shout. “Is there anybody here? We didn’t mean to scare or intrude, but this way of ‘travel’ has a few kinks in it! We just want to talk!”

I looked over to dad, mom, and Seabreeze, and hushed them silently.

“...Should we try again later?” The male voice said. “I’d rather not piss that mare off, and we could go for one of the others first…”

Something in my chest went a’ flutter at the mentions of ‘the others first.’

‘Trixie’ let out a hum, seemingly thinking it over. “...No, let’s check first.”

I cleared my throat, and tightened my grip on the cleaver. “Talk from there, and it better be good.”

A stunned silence followed for a second or so, and then the man spoke up. “...My name is Morgan, and I and my companion got a… lead, you can call it, on the locations of amongst others, five of the Elements of Harmony.”

My heart skipped a beat at the five.

“Is that enough so we can discuss this in a more pleasant way?” This ‘Morgan’ continued. “I swear; we only want to give you an offer. If you do not wish to hear us out or do not believe us, we will simply leave.”

I hesitated.

Five… Why only five?

And I…

I didn’t get any feel I was being lied to. Perhaps it was foolish to trust something so new and untested, but it just felt so right.

I gulped, and forced myself to do this the rational way. “...Fine, but come out slowly, and with your hands in the air.”

“My companion is a pony, a unicorn to be precise…”

Of course she is…

“Will walking out slowly with her horn unlit, do?”

A furious whispering made my ears perk.

The man let out a wince. “...And I’ve gotten rather… non-standard eyes thanks to this. Just fair warning.”

...Huh?

Morgan seemed to come to a decision. “...Ma’am, would you classify yourself as the pony Applejack?”

I tensed, and my eyes darted to dad.

Dad, who was sitting very, very still, even for the circumstances.

“...I’m going to take that hesitation as ‘it’s complicated,’” Morgan said in a surprisingly kind voice. “Well, to continue where I was going with this, I don’t consider myself Nightmare Bellatrix, if you savvy.”

Softly, I went urk, as something deep within me had a panic attack, while the rest of me was just puzzled and worried about that same panic.

My voice got slightly caught in my throat, but I managed to get out: “...Go on.”

“The short version? We think something did this, and we are s-”

“...We?”

Morgan seemingly lost his place. “...Short version on that: Near everybody at my work ‘caught the pony.’ I’m not sure if you’d believe this, but we’re basically minor villain slash freak central. Thing is, none of us are interested at all in being cartoon villain #41134, or whatever…” The so far unseen man let out an irritated grunt. “But frankly, with one exception, me and Trixie is the most normal one. We need allies. To be utterly frank, more photogenic allies, or we are going to be cackling evilly just for pure survival reasons before we’re even full pony.”

I suddenly got a mental image of some freaking half pony, half human thing, just standing in my bathroom and trying to be polite and look unthreatening. “...One?”

“...Look, can we come in? I’m not sure if that makes it better or worse, to be frank, but I still look human except for the eyes…”

I had to admit, this ‘Morgan’ just sounded…

Forlorn.

Not like some ‘muhahaha, I have you now!’ villain, but just some dude that was really, really lost.

Frankly, it made my decision for me.

I just hoped I wasn’t being played for a sucker. “...Fine, but no tricks, or I’m defending myself.”

I silently argued dad and Seabreeze to slink out of sight, and they complied; stopping only to throw the black felt blanket I kept on the sofa. It wasn’t a perfect obscuration by any means, but better than nothing.

Morgan came out first. He wasn’t that bad looking, if it wasn’t for how sickly he looked…

But the eyes were the first thing I saw. Slitted and glittering like a cat’s, but a deep, dark purple that I frankly would have thought contacts…

Except contacts will neither have their pupils change size when their owner passes through a patch of shadow, nor make that little part of me start all but screaming.

“...Ma’am,” Morgan said in a careful tone, “I did warn you.”

It was only then I realized I was holding the cleaver a bit higher.

Or that Morgan had walked out with his hands in the air.

His slightly see-through, not quite there, hands.

I forced myself to lower the cleaver, even if I didn’t put it away.

Oh, and start breathing again. “...So you did.”

Aside from the —ugh, eyes, the ghost-routine and how thin he was, the man was…

Shockingly mundane. Like a slacker that had done that version of ‘dressing up’ for a job interview, or something.

“...Can I?” Morgan asked, slightly waving his hands for emphasis.

With a grunt, I fell down on all three, as the case was; keeping my hoof around the cleaver. “...Fine, but no funny business.”

Morgan lowered his arms, and crossed them over his chest. “...So, any specific place you want to do this, or should we just…?”

I was a bit flummoxed. It isn’t every month you turn into a pretty pony princess, and get visited by what was apparently a wannabe wizard, after all.

“...Do you want some… tea?” I heard somebody ask. “...Coffee?”

It actually took me a second or so, before I realized it had been me on manners auto-pilot.

Morgan hesitated, and looked down at his t-shirt, a black one with an ‘h+’ on it; clearly a symbol, but one I didn’t recognize. “...If you don’t mind risking a stain, I wouldn’t mind…?”

A sinking realization made me growl, and lift my cleaver again. “And where did your little friend go…?”

Morgan frowned, and turned clear around.

I had to admit, the small gesture made me blink, and lower the cleaver again. It wasn’t exactly ‘dark lord’ to show you their back, I’ll say that much.

“Tri-” ‘Trixie’ cut off mid word, sounding… choked up? “I-I-I need a moment.”

Morgan winced, and turned around again.

Wordlessly, I looked between him, and my bathroom.

Morgan didn’t turn this time but he frowned as he looked me straight in the eye. “...Trixie.... the short version, is that I’ve had what I thought was an imaginary friend for the last twenty years, or so.” The man half-turned, and looked back for a moment, before looking at me again. “...Look, I’ll freely admit that the ‘pony obsessed aliens’ theory might be right, and me and her is ‘just’ a copying error or something... “Morgan poked his own temple, before folding his arms again. “...but she —if nothing else, thinks she’s Trixie, and she hasn’t seen any of her hard earned friends for over two decades.”

Morgan meaningfully looked at my cleaver, as my stomach went into a knot. “...Only to find the first of ‘em, from her point of view, amnesiac, and waving a knife around,” Morgan continued, in a low but still kind voice. “I realize you might not trust me or her, but please, keep the words to that effect kind, if you can.”

As if on cue, a shuddering breath just a bit too deep and long for having come from human lungs came drifting out from the bathroom.

...I had to admit, if it was just a pity trick, it was one hell of one.

Hesitantly, the sound of hooves came drifting towards us.

And I had to admit, the ghost bit aside? Trixie was a pretty unicorn mare. A rather blue one that made my tattered shreds of rationality give off a whimper, yes, but quite pretty nonetheless.

And how she was staring wide-eyed my way, as if I was the apparition …

Well, frankly it lowered the threat rating quite a bit.

Trixie tore her eyes away from me, and let out a small whimper. “...I can’t do it.”

And then she just... popped like a pony shaped soap bubble, spraying sticky not-quite-flesh all over my freaking kitchen.

“...What the fuck?!”

No sooner had I jumped back, the cleaver forgotten, when the… ugh, giblets started melting away; like dry-ice under a heat lamp.

“Ugh…” Morgan groaned out, doing his best to wipe himself off. “...I’m terribly sorry, but it’s only ectoplasm; give it a moment or so, and it will be gone.”

I felt something, ever so softly, go click in my head. “MATTER DOES NOT WORK THAT WAY!”

Morgan just looked at me like I was an idiot. “...You are aware, that two wizards quite literally did it…?”

I don’t care if it made me a pointy headed hypocrite and composure be damned; I still flared my wings and snarled at him like an overgrown cat.

Strangely, Morgan seemed to find this humorous, and held his hands up again, if with a smile. “Water vapor.”

I stumbled slightly mid hiss. “...Huh?”

“Water vapor, given shape, look and texture using magic,” Morgan explained, tapping his own chest. “Trixie figured out how to combine it with an astral projection, to give herself a body again.” He looked back, and gave a shrug. “No idea how it will interact with an arid or humid environment, but here? The mess should just sublimate away in a bit.”

In my mind’s eye, every darned place I’d ever wanted to as much as visit flashed through my mind. India, Australia, USA…

...Could it do the moon? I mean, without the water stuff and being ‘physically’ there, sure, but that seemed a poor idea, anyway…

And it most have shown on my face, because Morgan put on a surprisingly effective ‘teacher’s frown’ at me. One of those when the brightest but in her own way the dumbest kid in class, have gotten ahold of the big jar of magnesium. “And no, I am not telling you.” He lowered his arms, and ignored my pout. “Besides, I only learned it myself an hour or so ago. Without a mental two-way link like me and Trixie have, it would probably take weeks if not months even without the safety concerns.”

I frowned at that. “...Safety concerns?”

Wordlessly, Morgan mimed stabbing somebody, and started humming the Psycho theme. “Or you know, Al Qaeda, or whatever,” he said offhandedly, as I shuddered hard enough I think I lost a feather or two. “I’m anti-censorship myself, but this spell is going to be passed along on a need-to-know basis, I’m afraid.”

I hesitatingly sat down. I had to admit, the… ugh, eyes aside, very few burglars gave straight answers.

...Not that I’d actually know, or anything, but it didn’t quite seem to fit the stereotype.

“...Am I interrupting anything?” Morgan hesitated, and fidgeted. “...Because if so, I can come back later, when you’ve have had some time to digest this, or alternatively, we could use something a bit more mundane like Skype, or something.”

And then… my mind done gone broke. “...What.”

Morgan chucked merrily, and I had to admit? With that twinkle in them, those eyes didn’t look quite as frightening. “Well, I’m terribly sorry but I left my pointy hat back home.” Smirking, he pointed back towards my bathroom. “I could go get your plunger and wave that around in a wizardly fashion, if that helps…?”

It seemed my mind’s eye was having a… strange day, because for a moment, the mighty lavatory wizard Nightmare Morgan had stolen my ratty old bathrobe —the horrible red and yellow plaid one, that was far too comfy to throw out, no matter what my darling said about it— and was marching around in it, while waving my plunger like a mighty rod of power.

I think the effort cost me a few IQ points, but I just barely managed to not start laughing.

Morgan looked over at the kitchen clock. “...I’m sorry, but can we move this along? This is my first time doing this spell, and I’d rather not wake up so exhausted I can’t move for the next week.” With a grunt, he tapped just under his eye. “...You know, since that would be rather bad timing.”

I had to admit, I had… mixed feelings. “...One question.”

“...Yes?”

“Why in the name of all that is holy, did you end up in my bathroom?”

A slight tint of red actually started blooming on Morgan’s cheeks, and he looked away slightly. “...Look, our source? One of my friends ended up as the host of two nightmare spirits, —Not my type of nightmare, by the way…” He hesitated, as his blush grew a bit deeper. “Let say the glimpses they’ve gotten of you and your lover through dreams? We had a few targets, but your front door wasn’t one of them…”

I swear I felt what little moisture I had left on my face turn to steam.

There must have been a gleam in my eye, because Morgan held up his arms again. “If it makes any difference, The Olden Mare and The Headless Horse don’t quite get privacy. To them, —from how I understand it, dreams are just slightly more interesting and mutable part of a person. To them, the ‘all the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players…’ and they simply have the best seats in house.’” The man hesitated. “...Not that it makes it any less voyeuristic... but I’m working with the sources I have, not the ones I want.”

I took a deep breath, pointedly ignoring how that made my teats heave with my freaking barrel, and instead glared Morgan down. “And you are telling me this, why…?”

Morgan just met my gaze again, however. “Would you prefer to find out later that I’d glossed over something like that…?”

It didn’t make me happy, but I could see the point.

“...Look, to get on track again?” Morgan hesitatingly lowered his arms. “I’ve got a trade, and I’d like to offer it, at least. I don’t have any control over those two aside from telling my friend to politely ask them to stop, but I can give you my word —for how much or how little that is worth to you, that if you say no, that’s the end of it; my friends and I will simply make do.”

I questionably raised my eyebrow, but said nothing.

The man actually looked genuinely hurt, as he frowned down at me. “...Look, I know the ‘ghost-routine’ makes me look even creepier, but I’m trying to keep myself and my friends alive here and hopefully do some good at the same time. You say the word, and I’ll give you my e-mail, or something. That way, I can leave, and you still send word if you change your mind.”

I glanced down at my knife, and up again, hesitating. “...Fine,” I said, jabbing my hoof at him, “but if this is a trick, I will buck your nuts to the moon, got it?”

Without a further word, Morgan simply walked over to my kitchen table and sank down; frowning only at seeing the half-eaten breakfast there.

My heart wasn’t quite racing, but my ears never left Morgan’s direction, as I put away the knife, and did my best to clean up slash make some coffee.

Aside from a few intrigued hums at the points where I used my m- the telekinesis stuff, he didn’t say a word until poured coffee into his cup.

“Thank you,” he said, just like that, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

I ignored the weirdness, and did my best try at getting up in my chair, without breaking it. Aside from the wood of it creaking dangerously, and making me really glad the table was in the way from how the position made my teats stick out, it worked quite decently.

Morgan took a caution sip, before speaking again. “...OK, I know I’ve said this before already, but the short version: We’ve figured out a trigger for the whole pony thing, and sadly, we all got exposed at once.”

“:..A trigger?” I asked, not quite being able to hide my curiosity.

Morgan looked around. “...Anybody else in this house? Because it’s verbal, and I’d rather not expose anybody quietly listening in..:”

I think I kept my face even, but it seemed to be mostly a friendly warning.

Morgan tilted his head, while giving me an odd look. “...On second thought, I’ll skip saying it out-loud; just in case.” Morgan took another sip, and thought things over. “But in short, we’re all up pony creek, soon to be without even thumbs to hold the paddles…”

I let out a grunt, despite myself as I took a sip of my own coffee. Yeah, thumbs really were nice…

Morgan hesitated again. “...I realized I’ve been calling you ‘ma’am,’ but... “

I did a grimace I think put it across rather well that, yeah, that sure was a thing that had happened.

Morgan did a grimace of his own, and stared down into his cup for a moment or so. “...What was… that bit, like?”

I felt a bit queasy, and fought down the memories. “I realize it’s one of those once a lifetime things… but don’t stay awake to see it. Just trust me on that, OK?”

“...That bad?”

I shuddered a bit. “Imagine a sausage, getting turned inside out at the end of a vacuum cleaner.”

Morgan just stared at me for a few moments.

And I had to admit? That shocked stare, actually made my start believing he might just be on the level with me. “...So, this plan of yours?” I asked, in a kinder voice.

Morgan blinked, seemingly having caught the small gesture, and he carefully put the cup down, before continuing in a somber tone. “...Have you seen or read up on the show?”

I gave my own orange hoof a long look. “...You really have to ask?”

“People do strange things when they’re scared.” Morgan shrugged. “Trying to put your head in the sand, and ignore that anything is wrong? Sounds rather mundane a reaction to me, at least.”

I gave a shrug, and grunted again. Had to admit, I’d heard dumber things. “I watched the show, but that’s it. It was just this…” I hesitated, but decided to show some trust. “...cute thing me and my wife did together.”

Morgan seemingly did a double take.

Honestly, I could almost see ‘...And how did that go?’ written out in the bullets he started sweating.

I turned my head, and let out a whistle. “Think this dude is mostly on the level!”

It seemed dad was staying out of sight, just in case, but Seabreeze came hesitatingly flying over.

And Morgan’s jaw nearly hit the table, when he landed in my mane.

“Make a joke about it,” Seabreeze growled out, and I could almost feel the glare. “I dare you.”

Morgan reattached his jaw, and straightened up. “...I’m apparently slowly turning into Trixie’s ablative personality, so how about I trade you no ego jokes for no size jokes?”

Seabreeze let out a hum, that made my head feel funny. “...Throw in no fairy jokes, and I won’t make any villain jokes,” my husband said in a far friendlier voice. “Deal?”

“Deal.”

I was halfway through thinking ‘Boys...’ and rolling my eyes, when I realized what the heck I’d just done and had a small mental freak-out.

If Morgan noticed, he pretended not to. “Anyway, we think we got a hint at who's behind thi-”

I nearly choked on my coffee.

Morgan waited for me and my husband to stop spluttering. “...Thing is? You probably won’t believe me, but even if it’s fake, it’s one of those things that can only be worse if it is.”

“Well?” Seabreeze barked out. “Quit stalling.”

So Morgan squared his shoulders, and did just that. “We all, and I do mean all, got somepony else’s flashback on hearing the trigger; of a certain chaos god calling down a curse on that same pony. With me so far?”

My first impulse was to laugh myself silly, and throw the mad-man out of my house.

My second, though? Now, that line of thought sent a shiver down my spine. “...You’re saying, that it doesn’t matter if it’s true or not? That if something or somebody... implanted similar enough memories, would be just as bad?”

Morgan had the physique to pull off a grim nod, alright. Even with his casual attire, he frankly looked the part of a herald of doom when scowling; especially with those eyes.

I felt outright dickish for it, but… “...And Trixie?”

Simply had to ask.

Morgan hesitated, and looked down into his cup again. It was rather clear what bit of his reflection he was studying, at that. “...I believe she believes her story.” The man shuddered, hard enough he nearly spilled his cup. “I’m not going to lie, I’m worried… but as long as she doesn’t threaten me or others, I frankly don’t think I’ll mind sharing brain-space with the mare that taught me how to read.”

That made me blink.

Morgan let out a tired sounding laugh. “Yeah, probably should have clued in on something more than ‘imaginary friend’ was happening years ago, huh?”

I made no comment, but I had to admit… Yeah.

Morgan ran a his free hand through his hair, making me absently wonder how long he actually had, before she would need to start calling it a mane. “Look, the point though? The ‘how’ and ‘why’ aside, I don’t think we will disagree on that an utter, utter shit storm is a' coming; the whole world is just sitting still and being utterly stunned by all this weirdness... but sooner or later, the screaming is going to start.”

A rustling sound filled the room, as I shivered, and I felt Seabreeze do something similar but quieter on the top of my head.

“And that is if the various world governments actually get their thumbs out of their butts,” Morgan continued, “and actually make sure anybody afflicted by this stops being persona non grata. Because I’m sorry to say this, but there’s probably going to be at least one or two poor bastards that ends up colorful rugs, before this is over.”

I felt some gall in the back of my throat, not certain how I felt that that taste was actually more or less the same.

Morgan hesitated again. “...I don’t want to name drop, since I don’t want that to be a cause for a yay or nay, but both me and one of my friends grew up on…” Morgan hesitated, and looked away while snapping his fingers; something I tried not to feel too jealous about. “What’s the English word for a farm, but one that specializes in horse breeding?”

I frowned a bit.

“...A pasture?” Seabreeze hesitatingly offered from atop my head.

“No, that’s an area set aside for grazing,” Morgan absently said, while I tried really hard to ignore how my stomach growled at me. With a grunt, the man refocused on me and Seabreeze. “Anyway, not the important bit. The important bit is that we’ve got family and friends in the horse business, and as long as you two don’t mind pooling resources, I can all but guarantee a place to sleep, enough food, and —if you pardon the terminology, a once over by a vet you can trust.”

I frowned at that, how something didn’t quite fit. “...All but?”

Morgan looked slightly guilty. “...To be frank, I have yet to tell my parents.” Morgan looked down into his cup again. “...I’m 99.99% percent certain they’ll go along with it, but if…” Morgan blinked away something, and had to take a breath before continuing. “...But if not, my friend’s family farm is currently running on skeleton staff, since his folks are on some lengthy cruise thing.”

The room was silent for a moment, as the implications trickled through our minds.

Morgan all but growled at his cup, and slammed down his hand on his own lap. “...I really don’t like… that alternative, but one way or the other, we will have the resources to feed and house several dozen ponies in a day or so, in a semi-secluded and defensible location.”

I leaned back, and thought it over.

For a minute or so, only how I kept sipping my coffee could be heard, as both Morgan and Seabreeze seemed lost in their own thoughts.

“...And in return, you want me and my help, right?”

Morgan leaned up, and gave a nod, if still scowling slightly. “...Yeah. I’m not going to lie, having —the image if nothing else, of Honest Applejack at our side? Might just be the tipping point in having people actually listen to us, and not act as if Skeletor and his goons are walking up to them.”

I tried to hide how conflicted I felt at the ‘Honest Applejack’ bit, but my ear still flicked at the words; almost braining my husband from the small “Eek!” he gave off.

Still, some questions reared their heads. “...What did you mean with five of the Elements…?”

Morgan hesitated, but seemed to reach some type of decision. “...Apparently, both Twilight and Fluttershy is in USA, Rarity in Australia and Pinkie Pie in Belgium, but we simply don’t have a clue on where Rainbow Dash currently is.”

I fought down the tiny bit of me that had started doing happy cartwheels in my stomach, and instead focused on what was clearly a small olive branch. “...And just what is the plan, after you’ve collected the whole set…?”

To my surprise, the man simply shrugged. “Honestly, we don’t have a clue. Right now, we’re just trying to scramble to somewhere safe, and hopefully get enough gear, people and resources with us while doing so.” Morgan used his bony hand to make a so-so gesture in the air. “Hopefully we get enough badasses —pardon the pun, that we can actually do something, but if nothing else we should be able to pull the rug over our heads till this is all over; one way or the other.”

I bit my lip, and thought it over. Had to admit, admitting to not having a current long-term plan? It didn’t sound like a move a con-man would pull.

Morgan pointed at me head. First I thought it was Seabreeze, but only a moment afterwards I realized it was my horn. “If nothing else, I can promise you that Trixie would love to…” The man hesitated. “...Well, you know what I mean, if I say reconnect, and I can promise you two things about that.”

“If an alicorn asks her for magic lessons, Trixie’s ego will devour us all from shear mass?” Seabreeze piped up, sounding way too cheery and upbeat about it.

Morgan bit back a barked laugh. “Well, yeah, that too.” The man leaned back, and tapped his forehead. “Even so, she may be rusty, but that still makes her the currently most well-read and educated mage on this Earth.” I half expected a joke about ‘as long as you don’t feed her ego, and kill us all’ but to my surprise, I got looked straight in the eye. “I know what type of rep she has and I’m not going to lie, it is deserved. When Trixie is in a mood, she is the largest diva the freaking multiverse has ever seen... But she is also a very sweet and loyal mare that is far more clever and smart than she appears.”

Morgan leaned back, and fidgeted a bit. “...Not to sell ‘old me’ quite that short, but the Nightmare Force is more or less the pony black-magic devil, right?” Morgan let out a cough. “...And she did make that type of deal, just to try saving her friends.”

Frankly, near all doubt I had left that Morgan was Nightmare Trixie faking being a man faced with turning into a c-list cartoon villain disappeared then. There was just this… genuinely embarrassed frustration there, as he fidgeted, of the ‘oh god, was my previous life really that stupid?!’ variety I simply had a hard time even imagining…

Well, ‘a’ Trixie with all her darker bits turned to eleven even capable of faking that level of humility, to be blunt.

“...So,” I asked kindly, “what is the short term plan then…?”

Morgan straightened up, and refocused. “Right, right… I’m not sure if you can tell from the accent, but I’m from Sweden.”

I nearly balked hard enough that my chair broke; judging from how much it creaked.

Morgan gave a soft nod, as if he’d suspected that might be the reaction. “So, yeah; I can offer help and a well-stocked hole to crawl into that nobody will suspect you of being in, but you have to jump countries for it.”

I felt my ears perk again. “...’Suspect you of being in…?’”

Morgan let out an irritated grunt, and leaned back. “...Remember the trigger, thing? We simply couldn’t keep that to ourselves in good conscience, and we put it on YouTube.”

I felt my mind racing, trying to figure it out.

“So, yeah, if some crazy Trixie fan comes skulking around at my current home, with a girdle, a saddle and a big net, or whatever? They won’t find much; not in a day or so....”

“But if anybody with enough connections to go find your parents place, they’ll find far more than a Trixie that talks with herself?” Seabreeze piped up again. “That’s the gamble you’re asking us to take? Dodge the people theoretically hunting us, but we might need to actually put our money where our mouths are, and help against anybody that comes hounding for you?”

“About sums it up,” Morgan confirmed as he nodded grimly. “To be fair, though, Trixie is a popular but still minor pony….”

The cheeky twit didn’t even say anything; he just smiled bitterly, and pointed straight at my Element.

I didn’t like it, but I let out an unhappy grunt in confirmation. At least Morgan had resisted a ‘but the queen of background ponies is sitting there’ joke.

The chosen champion of Harmony, the wielder of Honesty, and who knows what crap the alicorn stuff could actually do?

Versus an egomaniac stage performer?

Yeah… One of those sounded like it would attract a higher grade of trouble than the other, alright.

Morgan got serious, and straightened up again. “So, yeah, not going to pretend it’s totally safe, but it’s a level of obfuscation for you two, at least.” The man frowned, and hesitated. “...If nothing else, half a dozen ponies should be able to scrape something together, right? So we could simply… stock-up at my parents place, and head somewhere less obvious.”

“Oh?” My husband snarked at our guest. “Like where…?”

Morgan frowned, a bit irritated, but to the man’s credit he thought it over. “...I don’t like to admit it, but nothing really springs to mind.” He swept his arm towards me and Seabreeze. “Unless you two have somewhere that might hold, or be retrofitted to hold, nearly a dozen ponies at worst slash best…?”

I closed my eyes, and did my best to rub my temples without knocking off Seabreeze.

I had to admit, it wasn’t exactly a small hurdle of logistics.

“So~o…” My husband asked in a voice so careful, it was frankly suspicious in its own right. “This ‘League of Not-Quite-Evil’ you’ve got going, just what power-level are we talking…?”

Morgan frowned. “...Me slash Trixie, a vampony, a changeling, the nightmare spirits and their host, a rather scary earth pony… and one alicorn.” Morgan rested his outstretched finger on his temple while giving us an even look. “And no, I’m not saying anything more than that; not until I’ve gotten a ‘Sure, we’ll help.’”

I frowned at that. “Aren’t you playing your cards quite tight, sugar…?”

I got a really, really worried look from Morgan, and Seabreeze even let out a short little squawk of fright.

It actually took me a second or so, to figure out why. “...Sorry, it just… slipped out.”

I washed down the foul taste I suddenly had in my mouth, but my hoof was shaking so much, I nearly spilled my coffee all over myself.

Morgan for his part started ‘breathing’ again. “...Yes, yes I am.” He waved his hand at me again. “To be fair though, I’m checking if a demi-goddess might be interesting in learning where everybody I know and love, live…”

I just barely managed to get the muzzle full of coffee down the right pipe, and was just about to glare him down for that implication…

When the realization I’d done the same darn thing hit me, and my anger faded as quick as it had come.

Morgan looked over at the clock again, making me absently wonder if he was even in the same time-zone. “...Look, I don’t need a straight yay or nay right now…”

Both I and Seabreeze let out a groan.

Morgan blinked at us, before it caught up with him what he’d just said. “...Horse pun unintended.” He put his hand over his face, thinking from the looks of it. “But are you at least interested enough to continue this discussion? Because if not, I’ve got enough on my plate I’d rather wish you luck and get to work trying to fix things.”

That? Now that made me perk my ears, alright. “...Fix things?”

For almost a minute, Morgan was silent, just looking at me. “...Ma’am, with all due respect? The ‘real or not’ crap aside, you have the…” I felt a tiny pang of irrational jealousy, as Morgan did air-quotes. “...’role’ of a champion, a hero who literally gallops into the thickest fray, and saves the day.”

He paused, for what I was certain was intentional dramatic effect.

Then he tapped a finger, just by his eye. “I got to be ‘dark demon of dark darkness #108,’ noticeable only in that the old me apparently scored a contract from what was then a c-list villainess.” His eyes drifted down onto my chest, and Morgan seemingly just barely fought down a grimace. “...In a world where good always triumphs, at that.”

I swear, I felt the gem… It wasn’t quite the right word and none of the languages I knew held a proper concept for it, but I got the impression that on some wavelength I could barely feel, Honesty had done the closest it could to growl at Morgan.

I’m not certain if Morgan heard that ‘sound’ on a conscious level…

But his eyes went from weird if mostly harmless; to what were basically two amethysts with razor slits leading into the void itself. “I don’t care if it unmakes some balance the multiverse itself rests on, I am not going back to being that sad, small creature. I caught a glimpse of ‘Nightmare Trixie’ and all she was, was a dark mirror of Trixie; this crude magical tool, so Trixie might one day have learned a freaking lesson.”

I heard that not quite ‘growl’ again.

Morgan straightened up, and sitting as straight and proud as any emperor on his throne, he solemnly drained the last of his cup.

Seemingly neither noticing or caring, that his shadow had turned into that of a unicorn; crawling up my wall, at an angle that the lightning should have made impossible, until the silhouette of a mare twice —if not freaking thrice, my size, was just sitting there.

And then the darn thing opened its eyes, two slits of blazing, purple magic, in what should have just been a shadow.

“To be utterly frank,” Morgan and his shadow said in perfect unison, even if the man himself didn’t seem to notice, not even as he put his cup down. “I am not that pathetic, hollow shade of a pony any more, and although I would prefer a solution founded on peaceful cooperation… I frankly find that secondary to not ending up worse than dead,”

The man took a shuddering breath, and shook his head.

The damn shadow shook its head the other way, making the outline of an ethereal mane dance in a completely different way than Morgan’s own hair.

“...To be blunt, if I have to pick between Harmony and Equestria... or this world, my life, my family and my friends? Things I’m decently certain is a crime against how things should be for me to even have, at that?”

Morgan took another deep breath and folded his hands on his lap, and just like that, whatever I’d just seen on my wall winked out.

The ‘man’ opened his eyes, and although they were still hard, they had —for now, lost that gleam of danger to them. “...This is not a threat, Your Highness Applejack.”

I frowned at the words, but I stayed silent, waiting for if they had a point.”

“I would vastly prefer we worked together, or for that matter simply ignored each other civilly…” With exaggerated care and slowness, Morgan pointed straight at my Element; getting another ‘growl’ for it. “...but if that rock is what I think it is, and it compels you against me and my friends, simply because we aren’t as we ‘should’ be? I will defend myself and them accordingly; as much as it may break Trixie’s heart.”

I looked down at my chest.

It was a glowworm, and a sickly one at that…

But in the ‘gem’s’ center, the tiniest of sparks blazed defiantly; like a single amber in a gale.

“I am unsure if something that simple and mundane would even work,” Morgan continued, in the same even voice, “but my dad has limited access to stuff like anesthetics and surgery equipment as well.”

For but a moment, the tiny mote of light roared, and the spark turned to a blaze…

But only in that one moment.

“Just an offer, for the record…”

Slowly, I raised my head, and simply looked at him.

Morgan didn’t look like some… dark whatever, by it Lord or Lady.

Aside from the eyes, that frankly could have been simply party lenses, he was just…

A sickly looking kid, about my age. One that looked as if he’d barely had a meal, or even a decent nap, for years.

It should have been comical; no, it should have been downright laughable. This reed of a man, intending to hold the world on the flat of his hand?

But I’m not sure if it was my new ‘truthiness’ sense, the ‘light’ show, or just how he said the words…

When Morgan said he’d prefer not to make the world burn to keep his friends safe?

I believed him.

....And yet, was that not a cornerstone of Harmony? For friendship to overcome all?

So why was my new pet-rock acting this way? Was it really —for it at least, simply wrong for a ‘villain’ to do the right thing?

So just what would happen to me, if I dared to do the wrong thing, even for all the right reasons?

I looked down at the tiny gem, and gave it an even look. “...If I told you to scram and that I don’t need you, would you actually listen?”

Another ‘growl’ was my only answer, once more seemingly aimed at Morgan.

“That I don’t want a freaking epic destiny, and a land I’ve never seen, can burn for all I’ll notice or care…?” If the rock noticed at all, it was too subtle even for my new eyes. “Because call me cynical, but the tale’s I’ve read where somebody finds out they’re a princess from another dimension seldom ends back home in Kansas with everything once more normal and sane.”

Morgan let out a tiny snort at the reference.

“If it makes any difference…” Morgan said carefully. “I believe that thing, is not an artifact of destruction. In fact, I think it may be so antithetical to its nature, that it may not bring destruction to anybody…”

There was something in how he said the words, that made my ears park, and a shiver raced down my spine. “...Anybody…?”

With the softest of smirks, the man cleared his throat. “Five score, divided by four…”

With a stab of pain sharp enough it made me wince, the world as it should be simply… went away.

-ples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples! Apples!

Ah was nearly floating on air! Finally! The Red Galas were finally, finally, finally ready for a good bucking!

All but skipping down the stairs to the kitchen fast enough mah hat was bouncing, Ah hummed on; a big, goofy grin on my nuzzle.

To mah surprise, though, Ah wasn’t first into the kitchen that morn’. “Top of the morn,’ Mac!”

Mah brother looked up from the thick pile of books, and gave of a grunt; as wordy as usual.

Chuckling a bit, Ah went for the fridge and started rummaging for some grub.

“...Sis,” Mac spoke up, nearly making me drop the bit of pie Ah’d nabbed, “...we need to talk.”

“Shoot,” Ah said, managing the words half decently around mah plate, as Ah hobbled over to the table with mah the slice balanced on that same plate.

With just Mac an’ me, Ah didn’t bother with any fancy cutlery, and instead just leaned my head down.

A bit undignified, but hey, not as if Ah had one of those pig-pokers on mah head!

Mac, who on closer look, seemed to have a few darker patches of red under his eyes, passed me the book he’d been writing in.

And there was a lot of red ink, for some reason.

Ah forced down mah bite before speaking up. “Yah know me an’ math, Mac. Say it, or it’ll just go right over mah hat!”

Vaguely, as if from far away, I felt how I’d started screaming. The wave of sound from ma- —my, oh God, I meant my throat!— painful enough that for a moment, reality came back.

But only for a moment, and as quickly it had gone away, the cold floor against my back, my husband hugging my neck, and even Morgan looking down at me with worry, simply winked ou-

Mac scowled at me, as if Ah was an utter, utter idjit, and reaching over, pointed at the figures. “The farm’s leaking more money, than a colander would cider,” he solemnly said, “an’ unless we either switch aroun’ production to more cider, or drop apples all together, we’ll go bankrupt in a year.”

Ah balked at the both the book, mah brother an’ all the darned little numbers. “Stop apple production?!” Ah just barely fou-

-ght back enough control, that I managed to give my own jaw such a haymaker, that my hoof whistled and even with all the alicorn crap I saw stars for a moment or so.

My dad had joined the fray, looking deeply worried, and holding Se- Asta, to his chest.

But I was so puzzled by what Morgan was doing, quickly pouring what looked like the table salt around me, that I once more faded do-

-wn the shout Ah wanted to give off. “Have you gone crazy?!”

Mac just glowered at me. “Yah think I haven’t double checked?” It wasn’t quite a slam, but there sure was a sound louder than a pat, as mah big, big brother, put his hoof down on the book. “There’s no market, sis. We’ve got too many trees for just ol’ Ponyville, and not even all the tourists and gawkers for that tree castle y’all made, is enough for the stand and the zap-apples to cover us anymore.”

Ah might not be the smartest, but let it never be said Applejack is the dumbest pony out there. “So we’ll st-”

“-OP! MAKE IT STOP! OH GOD, PLEASE! MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP! I’M NOT THAT DAMNED STUPID HICK OF A FA-”

-rming an acre or two! Until the market improves, or whatever!”

Stony faced, Mac just let his hoof drift over the darn numbers.

The red numbers that seemed to go back many, many years.

And just to make a bad day even better, guess who popped into existence; heralded only by a small shower of, for some foul reason, silver bits. For some reason that seemed like it should be important to me, thirty of ‘em landed in front of me, an’ formed an apple.

“...Am I interrupting anything…?” Discord said, as if he’d just knocked on the door and accidently walked in on us.

With a grunt, Mac simply swept the books into a pile, put that pile on his back, and trotted off without a word.

Ah made note to talk with mah brother about that next time we had a moment; Discord wasn’t exactly what Ah’d call mah favorite company even now, but that was no way to treat a guest.

Discord was still weirder than a flowery dress on a timberwolf... but he’d been one of the good-guys for years now!

Heck, even Ah’d go as far as call him friend, nowadays. Can’t say Ah’d ever imagined that just a few short years ago, Ah’d say that much.

“So, anything special brings yah here…?” Ah asked with a smile, turning mah back on mah friend. “Want bit of pie, by the way?”

“...Sorry, I’m simply not in the mood for fractal numbers today…” I rolled mah eyes at the horrible joke, but went for another slice of mah own anyway. For what seemed like a moment, Discord hesitated. “...but I sadly think I need an Apple.”

With a horrible snap that seemed to echo in ma- my frea- fucking bones, the horrible, horrible vision ended.

“Trixie doesn’t know if you're really her friend or not,” the rather sour looking owner of the blue, slightly see through horn resting against my own. “But frankly, you are at freaking least as stubborn as that old nag.”

I was too exhausted to snap back at her. Panting, I simply sank down into the small pool of sweat around me, and tried not to faint from the tiny pulsar somebody had apparently snuck into my head and made to spin with my heartbeat.

To my surprise, the ‘mare’ actually worked her way around me, and without letting my horn slip away from hers, put her forelegs side-ways under my head; like some type of slightly damp, hard pillow.

“Dabbling in potent magic they don’t quite understand for dramatics,” I dryly mumbled out once my breathing was under control. “Yeah, now I see the family resemblance, alright…”

Trixie twitched, and for just a second her glowing horn left mine; sending a fresh coating of molten lead flowing into my skull, from the feel of it.

“...I’m sorry,” Morgan said, barely looking up from the strange circle around me and Trixie he’d made; the salt somehow alit with purple ‘flames’ without actually burning the floor, “...Edith didn’t even twitch when she said it, and I thought it was tied into how long she’s been a pony.”

Something tingled in the back of my head at the name ‘Edith’ but I couldn’t quite place it.

So instead, I went for the obvious question. “...So, when exactly did you learn that, Mr. ‘I’ve-only-known-magic-for-a-few-hours?’”

Morgan gave me such a Trixie level smug smirk, that if I could have without screaming, I’d rolled my eyes at it. “What can I say? All those bits and bobs of occultism over the years suddenly seemed a bit more practical, now that I can actually use magic in ‘em.” Before I could protest about the circle that now seemed farless safe, Morgan continued. “And you don’t have to get your tail in a knot; it’s just a ritual circle.”

Given how both my dad, now holding the cleaver I might add, and my husband glared at him, I was not the only one that didn’t feel safer with that explanation.

Morgan rolled his eyes, but still kept his hands just barely touching the circle. “Fine, for the non-occultists in the building? It’s a faraday-cage; not a car-battery with nipple clamps. Better?”

I got a close-up of pony teeth, as even Trixie did a grimace. “Thank you for that charming mental image, Morgan…”

“Not that I can say I’m totally morally opposed to carving myself a Seal of Solomon and try calling down a couple of dozen legions of demons on that bastard’s mismatched ass... but with our luck there’s probably some type of inter-dimensional non-competition clause we’d trip.”

Hearing such words being said calmly in a collected voice was somehow far worse, than if Morgan been growling them.

“Thank you, Morgan,” Trixie did however growl out, “that is quite enough for now.”

It was hard with… well, my everything hurting, but as that slowly faded, I could actually feel how the circle ‘felt’ slightly different.

I still didn’t quite have words for that ‘magic’ stuff, but imagine being inside a locked closet, while small vents near your feet kept pumping in a steady flow of fresh air, and that was as close as I could name the sensation.

It was… odd. On one hand, kinda calming and serene not to have those darn sensations constantly on the edge of your normal senses… but on the other, it felt strangely and coldly clinical; like I’d gotten blindfolded for medical reasons, or something.

“...So,” I asked in a careful voice, once the worst of the pain had gone away, “just what are you doing to my noggin?”

Trixie let out an unhappy grunt. “Keeping the minds of the most stubborn pony Trixie has ever met from tearing themselves apart.” The tiniest of smirks flickered over her lips. “And yes, that is what we wizards call ‘bad.’”

I felt my blood start running cold again. “...Minds?” I asked in a tiny, tiny voice.

To my surprise, Trixie actually looked mournful, and her eyes unfocused. “...Yes, but Applejack-Applejack is… gone. She’s basically just this… background noise in your mindnow.” Trixie took a slow breath, and seemingly forced herself to continue talking. “Twenty-five years of dreaming? Only to slowly wake, and find oneself in that very dream?”

Trixie blinked away a tear, the small dot of wetness falling down on my own cheek to my shock. “...You know those novelty jars of differently colored sand?” she absently continued. “Like that, but some bastard took two of them, and just… shook them together for a freaking laugh.”

Her voice never wavered, and I didn’t see as much as an extra spark from her horn…

But when she said those words, I saw murder in Trixie’s eyes.

Don’t get me wrong, I’d spent a few quiet moments using my new face to solemnly tell my reflection ‘Redrum!’ and similar, just for a small upside…

But Trixie didn’t move like me or Seabreeze, who even I myself would admit looked like we were humans forced to wear four-legged pony suits with zippers that had gotten stuck about half the time.

Seeing that gleam, in the face of a pony-pony? Somepony that actually moved as if they’d had hooves, and a muzzle, and whatever, since the day they’d been freaking born?

It went beyond freaking disturbing, into ‘my teddy just asked for a virgin’s heart’ type territory.

“...Trixie is going to take her horn away from your horn now, OK?”

I blinked. “...Uh, sure.”

Trixie did so, but she kept her hooves under my head.

And just as well, because I had what might have been the worst headache of my life. I’d grant that it had gone down from ‘molten lead coating my skull on the inside’ to ‘when did all my neurons spontaneously explode?’ but still, a small improvement.

The ‘energized closet’ feeling faded away, and Morgan let out a grunt of exertion.

Something made me frown about that, though. “...How come you didn’t get…? I don’t even know.” I waved a ha- hoof at the now normal circle. “You know.”

“Trixie’s and Morgan’s magic is…” Trixie looked away for moment, frowning as she searched for words. “...I’m not actually certain if I have a term for it; I don’t think there’s ever been something quite like us.”

So… exact same wavelength, or something? Interesting, but I couldn’t figure out a way to even look into it closer, so for now I just filed the information away.

“‘Gooble gobble, gooble gobble, we accept her, we accept her, one of us!’” Morgan said in a sing song voice, but the reference flew over my head.

Trixie seemingly however did, and shot a death glare his way.

Morgan just smiled wider, though. “I do sincerely apologize for the pain,” he continued in a far more formal tone, “but am I right, that the vision you fought so hard against, was of a certain bastard and your… humbler self?”

I didn’t even say anything. I just narrowed my eyes at him.

“I may not be near neither the wizard or the entertained my partner is…” Morgan held up his right hand, and over the flat surface, magic lit.

The image was crude; looking as if a kid had somehow learned to draw in the air but with colored smoke instead of crayons.

Still, I could quite clearly make out an orange blob with wings and horn, smiling and waving at a whole crowd of blobs, with such conviction and a smile so shit-eatingly proud of being there, it made gall rise in my mouth just from seeing it.

On my chest, Honesty ‘growled’ quietly again.

“But I’ve heard a story or two in my day,” Morgan continued, sounding deadly serious, “and I believe I know what the harmonious end to this one would be.”

The ‘scene’ shifted, to that same orange blob, standing near six other blobs. One blue, one white, one purple, one yellow, one pink…

And one brown-yellow-grey one, that was elongated and thrice as large as the others.

As I watched, this rainbow beam of light shot forward from the smaller blobs, and covered the bigger blob; leaving it grey and still, once the lights faded.

“And thus a thousand years of peace descends on the land, as disharmony is once more vanquished, and everything goes back to normal.”

I gulped quietly.

Morgan smoothed out the grimace, and gave a tiny nod back at my dad. “Because hey, not like a bunch of magic-less monkeys matter, right? It’s nowhere near as important that those families ever get to see their sons and daughters again, as it is for things to harmoniously go back to how they should be.”

My father was many, many things. A scientist. A goof. One, if not the, kindest man I’d ever known…

I would never have however pegged him for a strong man… and yet, I heard the handle of the cleaver he was holding creak.

There was a rapid dimming and darkening of the ‘scene,’ one it took me until it slowed and stopped for me to realize was a crude day/night circle.

“And well...” Morgan continued, as the grey on the only remaining blob started flaking away, “do we not both know…”

The blob stretched its blobby little arms, once more mostly brown, and I swear I heard Discord’s damned laugh without it actually having passed my ears.

“...that Equestria likes its little thousand year cycles, don’t we?

I twitched, as Morgan slammed down his other hand on the whole ‘show,’ only to carefully flip his hands around.

“But we are neither from or in that realm, now are we?” Morgan continued, with a twinkle in his eye I wasn’t sure was wondrous or terrifying to behold. “We’re in this place where anything goes, and even the wicked may stand victorious, or even truly redeemed, in the end…”

And once the actually quite decent if shaky image over his left appeared, my Element went from growling to outright hissing.

It was… me, but not quite me. Taller and bigger, at least as tall as Cel- a horse. Coat a couple of shades darker, and a mane that had gone into outright gold, instead of simple pale, glittering yellow.

But I’m not certain what shocked me the most.

The slitted nightmare eyes.

The very same jade green of those eyes, now reflected in the Element of Honesty.

Or how the cheeky little image, smiled at me, and waved her freaking hand at me.

“Or you know, where even the purest of champions may fall, and walk whatever road they damn well please.”

I had to open my mouth three times, before any words would come out. “...What are you actually implying?”

The image of ‘anthro nightmare me’ did a lazy twirl, her wings extending from her sides and…

Honestly, she looked like some type of miss-match of a pony and an angel… if a fallen one. Curves any fertility goddess would have killed for, this near glow of grace and vitality, a near thrumming of power made all the more impressive by how near lazy it was…

I’d grant the grinning devil his dues; it sure wasn’t just any old Apple Morgan was tempting me with.

“Think about it,” Morgan said offhandedly, as atop his hand my miniature, evil-ish twin continued dancing with herself as if she had been born with dancing shoes on, “if a man may become a pony, and a pony a man… why may we not figure that secret out, and make it our own?”

Something caught in my throat, as a second dancer joined the fray; a blue pelt that near shone, an unruly mop of pink…

And as I watched, the tiny Seabreeze hoisted my dark mirror in the air; making her squeal with joy... and something lurch in my chest.

“There is a danger to this path, of course,” Morgan continued, in a surprisingly kind voice, “if such a gamble is attempted, and fails bad enough that you fall from grace in that things eyes, but don’t manage to claim it as your own…”

And then, I actually got it. “Then I’ll actually end up weaker, and we actually lose the biggest weapon against… you know.”

Morgan simply nodded at me.

“...So if I go along with the whole… pony thing, I know I’ll win...” I looked away from my dad and husband, ignoring how tense they’d gotten, and instead stared at the dance, trying to imagine actually doing it. “...But I’m also all but certain what I’ll lose, because the ‘chosen one’ never actually falls to darkness and corruption. They might be tempted or even lose themselves for a bit, but… they always return to the light in the end.” I hesitated, and I felt something… click in me, as my wings dipped almost down to the floor, and I actually admitted it out-loud. “...Because this kid from London named David isn’t the real hero of such a story; it’s the pretty pony princess he happened to have been in his last life.”

Morgan nodded solemnly my way. “I don’t have any proof, of course, but it does ring true to ‘fairy-tale’ logic, does it not?” Careful, as if the whole thing was made of glass, he held up his little image of me and Seabreeze dancing together as… equals. “Or to be honest, does this look like how any tale about peace and harmony would actually end?”

I tore my eyes of the small image…

But I swear, I saw how the little ‘dark Applejack’ was blissfully smiling up at her husband, even with my freaking eyes closed.

“...But the jackpot on going all in is far sweeter?” I forced out, after I’d gotten the frog in my throat out. “That I’d get to keep it all and not only the ‘pony’ bits? But if we fail, we go down hard, and two freaking worlds might burn with us?”

“‘May those who follow their fate be granted happiness; may those who defy it be granted glory,’” Morgan quoted from somewhere, before barking out a small laugh. “A rather human way to see things, don’t you agree?”

I was silent for nearly a minute. Heck, so was the entire room.

All except the tinkle of Morgan’s magic…

And the scuffling of two tiny pairs of hooves, as the waltz continued.

I honestly felt a bit irritated. “You are a horrible man, you know that?”

I heard his ‘shirt’ crease, as Morgan did a shrug. “If it makes any difference, I mainly went for visual metaphor; the best of both man and pony, thus transcending both, and the nightmare stuff as a sign of any power possible not only having been sought, but mastered.” The man took a deep breath, and continued, sounding… honestly quite remorseful. “...But yeah. I’m sorry, but playing nice won’t let me be certain I’ve done everything to keep my family safe.”

I felt a stab of sympathy, but outwardly I just let out a grunt.

“...Could you or Trixie actually do that?” I carefully asked after a long silence. “...Because, honestly? I’m not sure about, ugh, anthro, but having hands again would be a nice start.”

“At present, sadly no,” Morgan simply said, making me feel utterly conflicted. “Can’t speak for if it’s anything Trixie would care for, but I’m at least going to try, though.” The man took a deep breath. “And I’m sorry, but even this ‘skill bleed-over’ of ours have limits. Since we are talking about magic there is probably a way, but it might be decades or even centuries of research to get transmutation that advanced right.”

I let out another grunt. The answer I expected if Morgan was on the level…

But hardly the one I’d actually wanted to hear. Strange how that works sometimes.

“...And the Nightmare boon?”

Morgan hesitated. “...I honestly have no clue. Not if I could actually do that, and especially not if there’s even a way to avoid the whole ‘darker sides of you mashed together into its own personality’ thing.” Morgan let out a cough that even sounded embarrassed. “...To be blunt, I don’t think there has ever been a sane member of the Nightmare Force before, and… well, you only really have my word for that.”

“And Trixie’s, of course,” Trixie droned out.

I have to admit, that made me laugh; no matter how horrible it was of me.

“Still, I think you can see that we’ve got a point,” Morgan continued, with a nod towards my Element. “Or do you think the other potential players, will ask nearly as nicely?”

To my surprise, Morgan thumped himself on the chest, cleared his throat…

And my mane and tail nearly went vorpal and took his head off, as he started talking in a near exact damn copy of Discord’s damn voice. “Why, if it isn’t my favorite background po-”

Morgan froze and stopped speaking in that voice, before very, very carefully leaning away from me.

I took that as a signal I’d overreacted, and forced myself to calm down.

First, I lowered my wings, and forced myself to stop hyperventilating.

Then I let go of the magic covering my horn in a leaf-green glare that nearly hurt to look at, and made my mane and tail go to being ‘just’ wavering magic; instead of the couple of dozen gleaming claw-hands I’d near reflexively had turned it into.

“...Well,” Morgan said tensely, but thankfully in his own voice, “somebody’s been busy figuring out a trick or five, I see.”

“What. Was. That?!”

Morgan slowly held up his hands. “...Ventriloquism. For effect.” The man hesitated, staring at my mane. “...Sorry, I just… Yeah. Sorry.”

I hadn’t even realized consciously I’d shot to my hooves, I’d gotten that spooked… but still, Morgan sounded genuine enough. “...Please,” I asked nicely if tensely, “warn me next time.”

“...’Kay,” Morgan acknowledged, as he slowly lowered his arms, “so may I continue?”

I grunted out an acknowledgement, not feeling like speaking at the moment.

Morgan stared out into space for a few moments, before snapping his fingers and looking irritated. “Dammit all, I totally lost my train of thought.”

Trixie cleared her throat with her hoof to her mouth. “...May I?”

‘I,’ not ‘Trixie,’ huh? Was it something more, or was she just trying to take things more seriously?

Still, with no protests forthcoming, Trixie took a deep breath and started talking. “...I heard the bit about ‘pony obsessed aliens.’ It hurts, but I’m not going to pretend it… couldn’t be true. That I’m just some… mentally spread disease vector with coding errors.”

A dark part of me noted that it must be all that practice… but Trixie, when feeling down and not bothering hiding how pathetic she currently felt? The only one that didn’t wince at the sagging mare was Morgan, and even he had to look away.

“...But how about we ignore that ‘how?’ No… Equestria and magic, no aliens, no whatever. Just this world as-is, and you.” Trixie still looked sad, but she raised her head and looked me straight in the eye. “Do you really think a walking, talking, reusable nuke is going to be allowed to go back to her normal life?”

I flinched on hearing one of the things I’d tried so hard not to think about got said out-loud.

“And that is just the strength and durability. Imagine if you figure out the simplest of tricks with that Element. Imagine, if you could walk into the UN building, just for example, and bless that ground; so that the very concept of lies simply wouldn’t work in that one place.”

To my horror, my Element did something; something far, far more disturbing than any growl or similar.

The darn thing purred; this almost melodious little tone that seemed to linger far too long for any normal sound and made my horn itch.

Trixie, my husband, and even Morgan, twitched on ‘hearing’ it.

“And of course,” Morgan said, staring my pet rock down, “that would probably cause world war three within a freaking fortnight, since diplomacy as we know it and total honesty is antithetical to each other.”

Mid ‘tone’ my Element went from purring, to growling at Morgan again.

“With all that means in disharmony, death, disharmony, violence, disharmony, suffering…”

I winced, as something hot and almost painful flashed through my chest; this jab of power that made my heart nearly jump out my throat from the feel of it.

Morgan… did not look impressed. “...Look, I will freely admit that I don’t know. That thing might be ‘just’ so starved for its bonded owner that it’s simply not thinking straight. Thing though, it’s acting like a rabid animal.” Morgan thumped his own chest, making a wet, almost hollow sound ring out. “A rabid animal with the power to unmake gods, and it’s stuck in your sternum. If nothing else, we can offer you a way to at least try removing that thing without strings attached.”

I ignored the growling, and instead furrowed my brow in thought. “...No strings? None?”

Morgan just shrugged at me. “What can I say? I like Europe shaped the way it is, and dismantling the otherworldly, magical arc-reactor you’re sporting there before it goes ‘pop’ sounds like ‘its own reward’ territory to me.”

This time, there was something… almost pleading in the growl. Something that made the bit of my mane on my neck stand up.

“And if what seems like a good and smart —as the case may now be for good or ill, mare of science gets to stay herself, and is one way or the other made stronger for the utter cluster-fuck that is a ‘coming? All the better.”

I frowned, and thought it over. I honestly wasn’t sure if I could trust them, but I wasn’t getting any of those ‘lier vibes’ from Trixie or Morgan.

Oh, how the mere thought made my head hurt, but the most suspect player I actually knew existed was the Element of freaking Honesty! A rock, for fuck’s sake!

I froze, as I followed that line of thought to its logical conclusion.

...A rock that had teleported into me.

In other words…

The only thing in this whole mess I knew had intentionally hurt me. I mean, hell, what were those ‘growls’ at that, but tiny, tiny ways to try to steer me away?

From the only person/s that had actually shown up, and offered to help me and my husband?

Not Discord. Not Celestia. Not Luna. Not Cadance. Not even my freakin’ ‘friends.’

But I have to admit? I did get a small sense of doom, in that the only cavalry that seemed to be a' coming, was a dude that —glimmer of ‘magical’ talent and the whole ‘reincarnated horse demoness’ thing aside, looked as if a mild breeze would knock him over, and his not-so imaginary, imaginary friend, the unicorn diva with a barely controlled dark streak?

Yeah… With that line-up and those odds I felt like crawling under a rock with my love, and not come out again until after pony-ragnarok, alright…

But I just… couldn’t justify that. I may be many, many things, but never a fool. I’d barely peeked through the curtains since this… pony thing had happened. Heck, my freaking application for leave of absence had been by freaking mail, just to avoid attention.

Granted, given how the whole ‘caught the pony’ thing had apparently gone global, I could imagine what conclusion the university had come to, especially given how I’d stopped hearing from them, and without receiving a ‘you’re fired’ at that…

But there was a large difference between ‘oh, poor dude must have turned into a pony, let’s leave him alone until he dares walk out the door’ and ‘oh, the poor dude... must have turned into a undying demigoddess?! Oh my god, Nobel-prize, here we come! Where are the scalpels and micro-slides?!”

Not that I thought I’d be vivisected, or anything, I trusted my coworkers that much... but I had no illusions otherwise that help from that front wouldn’t come with me being jabbed, poked, scanned and gawked at for who knows how long; like some Tasmanian tiger that had just come walking of its own accord into a zoo one day.

My eyes drifted up to my horn. Not that a freaking winged unicorn was any less fantastic, now that I thought about it, but still.

But that was the freaking crux, wasn’t it? A mare could have just hidden away. Something as relatively mundane and normal, as an earth pony apple farmer perhaps even doubly so.

But Princess Applejack, Bearer of The Element of Honesty, Alicorn of Apples, Honesty, and Astronomy, and who knows what other thrice damned titles I’d get hoisted on me —whether I like it or not, before this is over?

Could a freaking symbol like that, actually hide? I did not like it, but how long could I even hide? A week more? A month? A year?

How long before even me and Seabreeze going for the, urk, grass and plants outside simply wasn’t enough? I… wasn’t sure about myself anymore, but I was fairly certain Seabreeze still needed to eat, after all.

So I came to a decision. “...Look,” I said carefully, “I’m going to be blunt; I’m not totally certain you two are on the level, but you’re talking a lot of sense.” I frowned a bit. I’d never been to Sweden, but I was fairly certain you couldn’t get from Kiel to there.

Not easily with a dozen sapient equines trotting about in all their Technicolor glory, at any rate.

But then… didn’t that go for the rest of Europe? “...Just where are you now? Country wise, that is, I don’t need an address.”

I got some proof about the whole ‘non-imaginary imaginary friend’ thing right there. Morgan and Trixie just shared a glance, and I could all but see the conversation of ‘you really, really sure?’ take place without a word being uttered.

It was honestly kinda cute even for the circumstances; like an old married couple, or something.

“Dover,” Morgan said, turning to me again. “You know, the place with the white cliffs?”

I jerked slightly. “...That’s quite the drive away.” I narrowed my eyes at them. “Over quite a few borders I’m honestly not that sure will actually let a bunch of mutating humans pass…”

Morgan just looked totally undeterred, though. “A small demonstration, perhaps...?” His hand did a small circle in the air towards my table, while he looked at Trixie.

How it produced a cracking sound was frankly beyond me, but without taking her eyes of my table, Trixie cracked her neck; like a weight-lifter about to go for the prize, or something.

She lit her horn, waved it like a conductor’s baton…

And suddenly, just like that, my table wasn’t a table. Instead, there was a tall, sturdy, brown man there, the exact darn shade of the wood of the table, simply standing there slack-jawed and glassy-eyed.

Interestingly, he was ‘wearing’ a fine four-piece suit, but the fabric was just a bit too stiff, and if you looked closely it was more like an oddly shaped second skin rather than cloth.

I honestly wasn’t certain if the cups and such still standing there on ‘empty’ damn air made the whole spit-ball into my remaining sanity worse or better.

Again, Trixie waved her horn, and the colors went slightly more normal. The ‘man’s’ eyes were still teak and he still stood as still and breathless as a statue, but his skin had gone a far more natural looking if slightly pale white, while his hair and suit was now as black as the coffee left in the cups.

Then as if my living room was but another stage, Trixie got up on her hind-legs, and bowed for us.

Smiling so wide and smugly, I frankly wondered how her head didn’t flop open at each dip.

I had to reluctantly admit though, as I, my dad, and Seabreeze gave a polite if slightly stunned clap, that this rather explained how the heck they thought they’d get away with a freaking road trip right now.

“And if it starts raining or snowing…?” Dad asked in a careful voice, pointing at the ‘floating’ cups. “Don’t get me wrong, that is a very impressive illusion —no matter how it was really crafted, but I can’t help but see some flaws in this plan of yours.”

Morgan spread his arms in a shrug. “Then by all means, enlighten us.”

I gave the self-admitted dark mirror of Trixie and his humility a long, hard, weirded-out look.

“What? It’s less than a day without interruption, will allow us to hopefully recruit a few more power-houses, and we’ve already have the cars.” Morgan, who’d seemingly taken my look as critique of the plan, defended it. “Don’t get me wrong, if it was just me and my friends we’d rather have hurried onto the next plane, but given the other circumstances I’d hardly call it a dumb plan.”

I frowned a bit as a bit of the puzzle clicked into place. “That’s why you’re using so much energy on getting a clear ‘yes/no’ from me, isn’t it? If both I and Pinkie say outright no, you can run to your hole in half the time, if not less.”

Morgan, and interestingly enough Trixie as well, frowned with clear irritation at the ‘your hole’ bit, but I just pressed on.

“So why not give me and Pinkie the address, and let us make our own way there…?”

Morgan just pointed at the ‘man’ my table had been turned into. “Do you have an ID-card for a blond girl with orange skin? Because the moment the rest of us start putting on ‘pony’ level weight, let alone any of the more overt changes, the borders are going to get dicey enough as is…”

At first I wasn’t quite certain what he was talking about, but when I looked at the ‘man-table,’ the new colors were fading even as I watched; like an old photo laying under a flood-light, or something. The ‘man’ was still staying there for the moment, but the textures and shades on him were turning back into the wooden look he’d had before that second spell.

Trixie let out a fake cough into her hoof. “...In Trixie’s defense, a twenty-five year break is a lot of time, even for a mare of her many talents.”

I started rubbing at my nuzzle, feeling quite peeved that my life had gotten crazy enough I was basically planning a cross-continent caper to escape my own house to go personally see a vet.

I mean, seriously. What the actual fuck?

“I take it going zap-zap and just…” My little darling, bless his heart, waved his tiny fore-legs in a ‘mystical’ fashion. He even did the ‘ooo~h!’ before finishing. “You know, magic? That’s out of the question?”

Morgan hesitated, and looked at Trixie for a moment.

Only for Trixie to hesitate as well. “...I’m flattered,” she carefully explained, rubbing her left hoof on the other, “...but even if I had the time and materials to set something like that up, that type of magic is just… beyond me.” Trixie frowned, and looked down at my floor. “...I guess I could improvise and enchant an airship or pegasi chariot with a lot of trial and error, but in this world that would probably get us shot down by fighters... and why not just take a commercial plane in that case?”

I suddenly got this distinct impression it had been a long, long time —even counting the time she’d ‘spent’ in Morgan’s head, since Trixie’s council had been sought.

On near damn anything, truth be told. The girl just got this… near desperate look to her as soon as anybody actually listened to her or asked her something.

Imagine a Dickensian street-urchin, a tiny piece of chocolate-cake, a big spoon and the words: ‘And all of it is just for me…?”

And, well, you were almost in the ballpark of that disbelieving, heart-wrenching moment of doubt you saw in Trixie’s eyes, whenever she wasn’t in the stage persona and people actually talked with her.

If it was an act, it was frankly Oscar worthy, and I’m not talking about in just one category either.

“...Look, I don’t like to admit it, but right now me and my husband are high-and-dry, and the worst thing we’ve had to face is cabin fever. As is, I simply can’t jump on a plan with so many ‘maybes’, no matter the sign-up bonus…”

Morgan had apparently expected that answer, and just gave me a resolute nod.

Trixie, however, twitched as if slapped, and suddenly wouldn’t meet my eye.

I turned and met Seabreeze’s, though. My husband hesitated for just a moment, and then gave me a shrug and a smile.

‘You’re the boss-lady, dear.’

I nodded back, hoping I’d gotten that vibe right.

“...Still, I’d rather not have this town burned down if anything happens,” I continued, noting how Trixie’s ears perked, just a tiny bit, “and making sure my teats aren’t rotting from the inside sure sounds mighty tempting.” I lifted my hoof. “You two promise no hard feelings on it if my hubby and I split with you afterwards if things don’t work out, and we’ll go with you for long enough to see how this ‘lair of not-quite-villainy’ of yours’ works out. Deal?”

This of course meant we’d be joining up almost two-thirds into the journey, when all the first tense kinks had been worked out.

Just because I wanted to do the right and noble thing, didn’t mean I had to be stupid about it.

For a few moments, though, Morgan just sat there and gave my hoof a hard look. “...Which means you’ve got an out to just run if anything actually goes down, and a peak at all our trump-cards to see if you actually believe them a winning hand.”

My Element started growling again.

But this time, I myself got a scoop. I swear, it felt like my teeth had tiny, evil vibrators in them.

“Won’t deny it,” I said flatly, making the besserwisser gem on my chest shut up with what I’m fairly certain was the ethereal version of an angry ‘Huh?!’ “I feel for you and yours, and I think you’ve got a decent plan going for the weird circumstances... but I’m not gonna lie.” I didn’t drop my hoof, but I jerked my head towards my husband and dad. “I don’t mind cheering you on or even trade some quid pro quo help, but if the world goes to hell in a hand-basket, I simply know which pair of horses I’m actually going to bet on.”

Morgan hesitated, looking at my mane for a bit, before shrugging. “Guess it’s only fair that you want to see results.” The man extended his own hand. “No vanishing without warning in the night with half our gear, you promise to give us a fair shake, and no sour faces if we try to keep in touch; and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

And we shook on it. Made me feel a bit like a trained dog, truth be told, with how Morgan’s spindly fingers wrapped around my hoof like that…

But that was hardly his fault.

“One thing, though,” I firmly ordered, as I held on to Morgan’s hand, and stared into his eyes. “Care to tell me why somebody slowly turning into a Nightmare is this keen on getting the Elements under one roof…?”

“Because if I go loco on the dark side, you guys are the only thing I know that can kill me without harming Trixie,” he said, just like that, making me flinch, Trixie gasp and even the darn Element go utterly silent. “And then, Discord, if he exists. Surely that is a win-win?”

For half a minute or so… I just didn’t know what to say.

What do you actually say to the face of a man that does something like that? Faced with the possibility of turning into a monster, and he’s speaking about killing himself if needed with about as much passion and reluctance as if he was going to get a boil laced?

I just… couldn’t find words.

Morgan looked down at my hoof and the thin hand holding it, and met my gaze again after a few moments. “...Do I look like somebody that has never faced my own mortality before, Mrs?” The bony kid that couldn’t have been a day over my age physically, suddenly had eyes that were near darn ancient… and I’m not talking about the Nightmare thing. “...What was your name? Human name, if you pardon the phrasing?”

“...Dav- David, I mean.”

With a smile and some ceremony, Morgan shook my hoof, and then let go. “Do you want to know what the worst bit of being a sick kid was, in my own experience, Mrs. Dave?”

I felt really, really darn conflicted at that combo of ‘Mrs.’ and my ‘human’ name; it just sounded a bit wrong, but I had to admit it was a nice gesture. So I kept my mouth shut.

“The freaking Hallmark movies.” Morgan rested his head against his hands as if they were a pillow, and fluttered his eyes. “Because everybody wants to meet the darlin’ little cherub too good for this world.” Morgan straightened up, and tapped a finger just by his draconic eyes. “Not the spawn of freaking darkness, swearing and cursing at the pain, because he can’t figure out any better way to deal with it.”

Behind him, I saw how Trixie for just a moment looked just utterly livid at the ‘spawn of darkness’ comment.

Then just like that, it was gone, her expression such a carefully blank mask, I frankly wondered if I’d imagined it.

“And what those vile pity masturbations filled with bad acting doesn't tell you?” To my surprise, Morgan actually had to close his eyes, and take deep breaths for a few moments. “It’s draining, and not only for the ‘littlest cancer patient.’ I’ll say this much for having a weak constitution; after the fifth close call or so, you really know what other kids are really your friends, and which just liked to come to your parties.”

To our collective horror, Morgan started counting on his fingers. “Let’s see… Sarah couldn’t stand even the first chemo, because the whole ‘he might die’ freaked her out too much. Björn gave up quietly roughly at when my hair fell out, because he couldn’t ignore it any longer. Siv actually stuck around to my first deathbed, but she simply couldn’t take it after that, the poor dear…”

Even my darn Element had completely shut up now. There was just…

Morgan said all that, as if reading from a grocery list. ‘Oh, I don’t have any more pickles. That’s not good.’ That type of voice.

Morgan noticed our expressions, and stopped with a shrug. “Anyway, and that was how I spent my very first summer vacation.” Morgan put his hand to his mouth as if holding something, and somehow let out an almost scary accurate take on the sound of a party horn. “And most of the rest of that year, truth be told; making odd sounds at the other sick kids to amuse myself and them until I got really good at it.”

Morgan’s soft, nostalgic smile just… cracked. “Thing is, after that bout of leukemia? The closest thing I’ve gotten to a proper diagnosis since then is that the chemo somehow weakened my immune system. A common side-effect, yeah, but it’s not supposed to last twenty darn years.”

To our shock, Morgan started slow-clapping; still with that almost cracked grin on.

And then, he dropped the fucking ten-ton anvil on our head.

Morgan stopped clapping, and ‘smiling’ for that matter. “So how about this little reversal I can’t help but think about: What if Dave and Morgan were the ones never meant to exist? There was no gentle merger, but instead we are getting these nifty masks we hadn’t even noticed ripped off. You know, because our curse is over!”

Behind me, I heard the cleaver clatter to the floor, my husband let out a soft urk, and I felt the bottom drop out of my stomach.

“Funny, funny, funny joke, huh? The bad-vibes eating demoness who got so much on a silver platter but whose whole meaning for existing is to test friendships, got to be the sickly kid that only pulled through because his loving family and friends gave him a reason to fight until he bled.”

He waved a hand at Seabreeze. “The loyal husband and upstanding leader of his people, pushed into this hilarious bout of unknowing adultery with a foreign princess; something I’m certain won’t have any political blowback between the Breezies and Equestria at all. Two lives and two marriages, all for and leading up to a punchline yet to be even completely told.”

My heart skipped a beat, and I heard how Seabreeze started gritting his teeth from clean across the room.

It was my turn to be waved and monologued at next. “And the honest, proud farm-mare with a light anti-intellectualism streak but with the big, big heart…” Morgan folded his hands over his own, before continuing in a far kinder but quite firm voice. “...ended up a scientist for whom the stars themselves holds so precious few mysteries left to learn…” Morgan tilted his head towards Trixie, who’d gone extremely still and stiff. “...but to a friend that hasn’t seen you in twenty-five years, the answer was ‘What’s in it for me?’”

I… I had to look away. I just couldn’t… look his or Trixie’s way.

“Not that I can say I don’t see the merits in caution given the circumstances…” Morgan continued, just as kindly. “...but do you really believe that would have been quite the answer Applejack-Applejack would have given?” My cheeks were still burning, but I heard Morgan gently brush his lap off. “Not trying to shame you or anything, Dave. Just thought you deserved to hear about this pattern I think I’ve spotted.”

I fought down the shame mixed with anger burning in my chest, and actually somehow managed a calm voice. “...Are you a psychopath? One of those high-functioning ones that just never saw the point in getting a knife collection?” I barely managed to turn my head, and glare him down. “Because I’m noticing some quite blatant emotional manipulation.”

Morgan twitched, but it was Trixie that shot to her hooves, snorting hotly and scraping at the floor in a frankly rather disturbingly pony-like way.

Including a rather sinister looking glow to her horn.

“Trixie! Calm down!” Morgan said, raising his hand.

To I think even his surprise, Trixie actually listened. She didn’t look happy about it, and she was even shaking from anger, but back down on her haunches she went.

“...I’m sorry,” Morgan said as he lowered his hand, at least looking and sounding genuinely ashamed. “...For whatever it may be worth, I’ve never gotten... that diagnostic.” He waved his hands around in front of his chest, clearly not quite certain what to say. “...I realize you probably won’t believe this, but I think I might have been exposed to acting just a tad too young.”

I blinked. That… was not the explanation I’d expected, I must admit.

“To my defense though, I think there are worse lows to sink to in the name of trying to keep one’s family, friends and world safe.” Morgan mimed tugging on something at… well, heart height. “Then, you know, talking people into helping you do so.”

I wasn’t happy about it, but I acknowledged the words with a grunt.

“Still,” Morgan continued with far more force in his voice, “I did mean every damned word. I just wanted you to know that if you’ve caught any psychotic rage vibes, they aren’t aimed at you and yours.”

I gave a slow nod as I thought it over. I guess it made sense from what I’d heard so far, and I hadn't gotten any outright ‘liar-vibes.’ I mean, I wasn’t happy with Morgan right now for trying to play my emotions like a damn harp, far from it…

But if I even suspected somebody or something had given me a CON score of freaking one for ‘the lulz,’ I wouldn’t be very happy either, and so far he had only talked.

Beside, somebody —soon to be somepony, that could all but grandstand while sitting in a kitchen with three people?

Could be very, very, very useful, going forward, that skill.

Hey, what can I say? I was hardly one of those stereotypical, scatterbrained science-nuts that could barely hold a conversation as soon as it wasn’t about my field, but I was no great narrator either. I could talk with a crowd just fine, but wooing one was simply beyond my skills.

Know thy self, and all that.

And as tantalizing a secondary prize figuring out this ‘magic’ stuff might be, I frankly wanted to feel some damn sun on my back before this decade was over.

And then… there was the big one, I barely dared admit even to myself.

And it was so, so… horribly childish of me! So utterly irresponsible! Such a waste of time and energy!

But the idea of a big, epic glorious globetrotting magical adventure sounded kinda awesome.

I’d apparently been thinking long enough that Morgan decided it was enough, and he got up. “...I’m sorry for over-selling this, but it sounded like we’ve got the start of something, at least.” He looked around. “Any pen and paper? I’ll leave you my phone-number and our website, and we can continue this minus the home invasion.”

I swear, my mind went blank as I heard the dumbest thing I’ve ever, ever heard. “...A wizard website? Really?!”

Morgan snickered at me. “Well, somepony seems to have missed the odder bits of the series of tubes!” The man got straightened up, and waved at Trixie. “Seriously though, me, Trixie and a pair of other friends have a web-show; it isn’t the biggest on the net, but we make a decent enough living from it.”

I’m not sure if Morgan noticed, be it mundanely or through the whole ‘head-mates’ thing…

But for a moment, on off-handedly getting equal billing?

Trixie smiled, and it was so gosh darned radiant I swear the room got hotter.

“...Dad?” I gave a small nod to the living room. “Can you and S- Asta go find something for Mr. Morgan to write on…?”

Seabreeze got it immediately.

Sadly, so did Morgan, judging from how his eyes narrowed at me. Fuck. “...You know, if you want a private chat to see if I’m dark lord #13415 and Trixie’s my little sock-puppet, you could have been a bit more subtle about it.”

I chuckled awkwardly and… well, tapped the bling of destiny in my sternum.

Morgan hesitated, and seemed to come to some type of conclusion, as he turned to Trixie. “...Hey, how about you finish up, and I’ll fill in the others how this has gone?”

Trixie twitched, clearly not having expected that. “...Sure.”

Morgan nodded, only to hesitate on looking my way. “...Sorry again for over selling things…” With a solemn expression, he waved at my covered kitchen windows. “It’s just that I truly believe that one way or the other, the worst is yet to come, and there is a lot of difference between gaining some help from each other, and standing back-to-back until the world makes sense again.”

Had to admit, once more the man was speaking enough sense that I can’t say I could find it in my heart to be quite as angry as I possibly should have been.

Still, there was one thing that made me cock an eyebrow his way. “Said the man with the unicorn arch-mage in his head…”

Morgan just grinned my way. “How goes that old meme? ‘It’s a strange old world…’”

A glimmer of recognition lit in my mind. “‘...Let’s keep it that way,’ right?”

Morgan’s grin grew a bit even wider, as he gave me and the rest a small wave. “Yeah, that one.”

I had to admit; I’d heard worse battle cries.

With another small wave, this time more aimed at my dad and Seabreeze, Morgan stalked off towards my bathroom.

With a few splashes and muttering: “Vad det här känns konstigt…” Morgan from the sound of things got into the bathtub…

And with this really odd, bigger splash, I suddenly had the strangest impulse that my house was now ever so slightly… cleaner.

I felt a stab of guilt at even thinking it, but that was really how it felt. Didn’t make it quite better, but I guess it must have been the Nightmare thing.

I turned my neck to face dad and Seabreeze, ignoring the tiny voice in my head that said I shouldn’t be able to do that. “Hey, can you two give me and Trixie a couple of minutes?” I let out a small cough. “I want to trade a couple of words, mare to mare, if you pardon the wording.”

Dad hesitated, but gave me a nod. “Fine.” Then to my embarrassment and chagrin, he waved the cleaver he must have picked up sometime earlier. “But no tricks, alright?”

Trixie looked irritated as well as slightly hurt, but dad got a stiff nod anyway.

Without another word, dad swept out carrying a worried looking Seabreeze on his shoulder; gently but firmly holding my husband down with his free hand.

“...If this is about to become a ‘is that thing controlling you, Trixie?” Trixie began in a level voice that would have still curdled milk, “you can go write those words on a cheese grater, and shove them.”

I blanked for a moment.

There are simply certain words you never expect to hear from the mouth of an adorable little unicorn.

“...No,” I affirmed her in a gentle voice, once I had my words back, “I wanted to apologize for how cold I’ve been, and it didn’t seem quite sincere doing that with dad holding a cleaver and glaring at you.” I looked away and rubbed my hooves nervously, as Trixie blinked my way. “I’m just… terrified I’m about to lose everything, because some crap that sounds as if it’s from a bad fantasy novel.”

Trixie didn’t look entirely convinced —or happy at the ‘bad fantasy novel’ comment, but slowly her ears perked, and I got a slow couple of nods. “...I get it.”

With some exaggerated care, I got up on all fours.

And it scared the hell out of me for just a moment, because it felt as if I’d slept for freaking days.

No discomfort from sitting so long. The headache was still there, but what should have been a migraine keeping me down for the rest of the day was quickly becoming nothing more than an annoying buzz.

A slight scratchiness in my throat and some stiffness from the trashing.

And that was it.

It didn’t even feel as if I was freaking sweaty any more.

In fact, instead of the ‘stink’ of horse sweat, I swear I smelled freshly cut apples, and old books!

What the hell had I been turned into?

Still, I had more pressing fish to fry, so I fought down the bit of existential dread, and slowly walked up to Trixie, who in turn eyed me cautiously but made no protest.

I couldn’t quite help against two things: My curiosity, and some slightly embarrassing new instincts; and breathed in a quick sniff through my nose

Guess it must have been all that moisture if Morgan’s explanation was correct, but she smelled just like watermelon, with barely the vaguest of hints of pony, and something I didn’t quite recognize.

And interestingly, I’m not certain if it was the alicorn crap only, but the mare was almost a full head shorter than me.

Not that you’d ever notice with how far up in the air her nose tended to be, but still.

Right now, however, she was just staring with a melancholy expression at my wings. “...Twenty five darn years…”

“What?”

Trixie lifted her head, and locked her forlorn eyes with my own. “Twenty five darn years a head start, so many tries, so many experiments, and so, so much work…” Trixie took a deep breath, and looked away from me with an utterly unreadable expression. “...and I can’t even magically keep up with Applejack of all ponies while she’s sleeping…”

I cringed slightly. Part of me was annoyed… but since it was clear Trixie was talking about Applejack-Applejack, I…

Yeah, that must have stung.

I twitched slightly, as a damp-ish hoof poked my wing. “Would you believe Trixie, if she told you those things aren’t supposed to exist according to how she remembers things?” Trixie smirked a bit, before giving me a harder poke. “Oh, how Trixie laughed at that episode! Oh, how she laughed, when she remembered the shiny medal Applejack had actually gotten that day…”

I felt a lump form in my throat. “...What?”

Trixie barely looked up from poking my wings, but I got a nod. “Oh yes, ‘for services to the crown, in defending the proud city of Manehattan,’ I believe the speech actually went,” the ghost of smile played on the mare’s see-through lips, “and on, and on, and on… You know how public gatherings can be.”

Trixie reached around, and gently lifted and unfurled my wings by grabbing my carpal joints. “Still,” she continued in a kind voice, “that does raise quite intriguing questions were these pretty things actually came from, doesn’t it?”

Yeah, it did.

But I was currently more interested in Trixie’s facial expression; that wistful, veiled look people get when their friend has won the lottery.

You’re happy for them, but you simply can’t help but imagine that very some jackpot in your own hands. That look.

So I leaned forward, ignored the yelp from Trixie, and pulled her into a hug.

“...I’m sorry I… can’t remember you,” I said in a carefully even, but kind voice, as Trixie hesitatingly started returning the hug. “Twenty five years is a long time, and I’m certain the Applejack you remember would have been jubilant to have been in your thoughts for so long.”

Trixie didn’t make as much as a sound, she just tightened her hooves around my neck and held me so tight it almost seemed she feared I’d fade away like a mirage at any moment.

Imagine a snowman back from the dead in June and trying to strangle you badly, and you weren’t far off. It felt a bit weird, but it wasn’t an unpleasant hug, or anything; just a slightly strange and rather tight one.

Honestly not certain how long we sat there, but it seemed Trixie was de~ep in the red, as far as needing a proper hug went.

Pony on pony hugs were… interesting. On one hand the feel of fur on fur, with chests rising and lowering and all that, was almost intimate enough to put a blush on even my face…. but on the other, all the interesting, naughty bits were safely back towards and near the floor, making the experience oddly chaste as well.

An odd mix, but not an unpleasant one.

Somewhere along the line, I’d started stroking Trixie’s mane. I personally hadn’t meant to do that and it was probably mostly a near instinct from a life where ‘fuzzy, cute thing within hugz range = pet it!’

Still, Trixie made no comment, and I managed to just barely stop myself from scratching her behind the ears, so I kept doing it.

“So,…” I asked in a carefully kind voice, not even slowing my stroking. “...how long?”

“Couple of months,” Trixie mumbled into my shoulder, “I wanted to make sure nothing about this spell could hurt Morgan.” I got the less than pleasant experience of a pony grinding her teeth just near my ears. “And instead, all this crap started!”

I winced slightly; both from the volume and the… vocabulary. “...Can you please use ‘pony swears?’ Every time you use words like… that, it kicks my childhood in the groin.”

I felt how Trixie rolled her eyes at me. “Yes, because clearly the words ‘shit’ and ‘horse apples’ aren’t alike at all…”

I took a deep breath, and let her have that small victory.

Still… a couple of months, huh? Not what I’d actually been asking, but interesting nonetheless. “So you’ve got a spell that allows you to be at any place in the world, —after being cooped up for twenty-five years I might add, and you didn’t use it because you didn’t want to hurt Morgan?” I chuckled softly, as Trixie tensed slightly. “You must really care for the kid…”

I’d expected her to dodge the question, but to my surprise Trixie just got this goofy grin. “Yeah…” I felt her frown against my shoulder, before continuing in slow, thoughtful voice. “...Please don’t judge Morgan too harshly. He’s normally such a sweet foal, but I’ve never seen him this angry.”

I couldn’t quite take my eyes away from orange hooves around that blue neck. “...Yeah,” I muttered darkly, “the idea that your life is nothing but a sick joke will do that to a person.”

Trixie drew a shuddering breath, for a moment shaking so much she nearly slipped out of my hooves.

I gave Trixie a few extra pats on the back once she’d mostly calmed. “Still, I wasn’t talking about that spell when I asked ‘how long?’”

“...Tri- I swear, I would have tried to find you and tell you if I’d known earlier, Applejack,” Trixie explained in a voice so low I barely heard her. “...But I thought Morgan and me were the only ones on this entire Earth. That that damned show was just Discord’s version of lemons on the wound.”

I paused with my hoof mid-air and mid-stroke on hearing that. “...Not that either,” I gently said, as I started stroking again, “but I believe you.”

I took a deep breath, and just blurted it out as gently as I could.

“I was wondering for how long you’ve considered Morgan to be your son.”

And as soon as those words had passed my lips, Trixie went this strange mix of rigid and sloppy in my arms; as if I’d shocked her so badly she’d nearly forgotten to even maintain her spell.

Knew it…

“Because I got this impression Morgan himself haven’t quite figured that out yet…”

I’d half expected to be blasted through my own walls, or for the mare to ‘pop’ again... but Trixie just started laughing this bitter little laugh that made my mane stand slightly on end. “Actually, he did this really sweet gesture just a few hours ago…”

My heart had only time to rise just a bit… before it fell in tandem with something wet onto my back.

“...but I have to admit,” Trixie choked out, her false mirth blown away. “I never thought I’d be called sister either, so I guess that’s something, right?!”

My heart lurched clean from my hooves, into my throat.

I’d barely gotten half-way through: “...Oh, Trixie…” when the mare herself threw herself back into my arms, and started sobbing so hard it was almost a wailing.

So not knowing what else to do, I did what I could and held her tight again.

Me and my big, big mouth…

Author's Note

For the record: I'm currently undecided on the anthro thing, but it seemed a totally logical plan of action/discussion for the characters. Feel free to weigh in if it's an interesting concept, a deal-breaker, or anything in-between.

Can't say for sure if it will sway me, but I'll be sure to at least take it into considerations going forward.

A warm applause for azarath who’s joined on as editor!

Oh, and...

It lives! My creation lives! It’s alive!!!

*Crack of dramatic but cliché thunder!*

So, yeah, now you don’t have to do that joke.

I’m sorry it has taken this freaking long. I’ll spare you all the spoiler filled details, but I basically had this big twist I just couldn’t get to work.

For a long time I thought it would work, but the more energy and writing I poured into it, the less fun this story became to write…

And in the end, it just wasn’t worth keeping those few good scenes for how much that plot-point dragged the rest down.

Still, this improper hiatus has given me a lot of practice in the meantime, and time to think about where I want this story to go.

So don’t expect another update just around the corner, but on the same token I think this story will be all the stronger for those pauses in the end.

Oh, and the next one shouldn’t be even nearly as bad.

I do know that two updates in a whole freaking year is kinda on the low side, so a big, big thanks to everybody that has stuck with this story for this long!

Oh, and since I know it will be mentioned if I don’t:

The ‘old’ bit was Morgan not quite remembering the phrasing, not a mistake on my part.

Still, a fine sentiment.