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.