Melancholy Days

by Zurock

Rating: teen
Tags: Princess Celestia, Slice of Life, Human, Main 6, Drama, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Spike
Length: 175051

A story of faith and depression. The recent human arrival has been struggling to adapt to his new circumstances. Meanwhile, Princess Celestia summons Twilight and her friends to address an old, mysterious, and personal trouble.

“There's always going to be melancholy days now and again, that's just the way it is!”

Not much more than two weeks past his arrival into Equestria, the human guest has spent much of his time keeping to himself, facing down the painful and permanent separation from his old world and still unsure of his position in this new one. Twilight struggles to fulfill her official roles as both a watchful eye and a guide, to the detriment of her being a simple friend. In the midst of it all, Princess Celestia calls upon them. Beyond the cozy bounds of Ponyville, something has developed which diverts their attention and presses on their differences.

A story of faith and depression.

Like What Separates, the idea is for a story which at its core is driven by the characters' dialogues with each other. This time however, the story expands and there is a bit more drama thrown in; the characters travel away and find new faces to engage with. While the focus of the prior tale was about what immediate divisions exist between two apparently different peoples, this story is focused on depression and those who retreat from the world.

Published 2013-12-31 03:10:04 UTC
Last updated 2014-07-15 07:10:30 UTC

Chapter 2: Wrench

Three knocks rang from the front door, hammered out in clear haste yet not with the scrambled rush of panic. Twilight was swift to answer, delaying for only a sliver of a moment to check her presentability along with that of her library and companions. Spike had been sitting on a small stack of books, resting from his duties, while James had set down against the wall, thumbing through one of the books the unicorn had handed to him nearly two weeks ago. The loud pounding had made them merely rise from their seats and watch with interest. Finding no reason to lengthen her pause, Twilight drew open the door.

Outside, the drumming of the rain and the darkness of the clouds was in passing, and busy pegasi could be seen working to cast away the rest of the storm. Droplets dribbled from branches and overhangs like a faded memory of the morning. Each blade of grass glistened, refreshed, and their green hue beamed in the renewed sunlight. The walkways and streets, still damp and wet, glimmered brightly in the same light; each stone sparkled, creating a field of tiny white stars along the paths through town. Although the day was passing into afternoon, the world was just beginning to wake up.

On the other side of the door was the expected repairpony. An earth mare of usual stature, she was light almond in color and bore a cutie mark depicting a wrench fastened tightly onto a nut. Her mane and tail were a deep, almost maroon color, and a general lack of upkeep on them both made her hair spring out like flares in many places. Darkened goggles with huckleberry blue frames were strapped around her head and set above her crimson eyes, pushing up her wild bangs. Strange marking encircled her eyes; they looked like coffee-colored stains that were spaced an inch out, and they could easily be mistaken for a natural fur pattern though they were actually set-in grime and residue; long entrenched markings left from where her goggles rested during dirtier work. Tight around her right side was a saddlebag set in the same color as her eyewear. It was overflowing with pockets and zippers, a contraption unto itself, and it sagged heavily under the weight of the tools that were stored inside.

"Hey!" the repairpony cordially greeted. Her voice rolled like a greased wheel but had a precise levity. She followed her greeting up rapidly, unsure if she had correctly found her target address, asking, "You needed something fixed?"

"Yes! Yes, come on in," Twilight confirmed as she stepped aside and waved the new arrival in.

Briskly the newcomer entered. Her head turned about and her eyes wandered, getting a feel for the new space she was entering, but at the same time she seemed distracted and inattentive. It was only at the sight of the dragon and the man that her focus seemed to come back and she regarded them both with an unassuming suspicion. She was told "library", but had she stumbled upon a zoo instead? Only when Twilight spoke again did she tear her eyes away from them.

"Thank you very much for coming! I'm Twilight Sparkle." She briefly regarded her guest with a lost familiarity. There were a lot of ponies in town but she could never keep track of them all. She was no Pinkie Pie. Testing the water, she stated, "I think maybe we've met before? I'm sorry if I don't remember..."

Dismissing the worry and concern, the repairpony immediately responded, "Oh, no, I feel likewise for sure. I'm certain I've at least seen you about before. I'm Gadget. To my friends anyway." She cocked a smile and raised a hoof in salutation.

Assuaged, Twilight warmly returned the gesture and said, "Well, it's a real pleasure to meet you, Gadget. Oh, and these are my friends here." She waved Spike and James closer and entreated them to introduce themselves.

The dragon shook claw with hoof, missing no chance to pour out his chipper attitude as he gave his name and, to puff up his own importance, what felt like his entire list of responsibilities at the library. James was comparatively silent. He gave his name, a pleasantry, and a bow, each fully courteous and open, but no more than that. Gadget accepted their greetings with a mixture of happy curiosity and peculiar bemusement, still deciding what to make of the two's presence.

Spike, caught between earnest wonder and mild sarcasm, asked, "So if your friends call you Gadget, what does everypony else call you?"

"Ah," Gadget chuckled, "I've taken a liking to that nickname. Fits me like a socket wrench to a fastener. But when I have to use my real name..." She stood back, raised herself up, and gave a pride-filled flourish with her reintroduction. "Gizmo. Gizmo Thingamajig, at your service. Repairpony, inventor, tinkerer, disassembler, reassembler, and all around fix-it-up, tear-it-down, get-it-done, do-it-yourself pony." With a wink she boldly proclaimed, "There's nothing with a moving part that I can't tune up."

James turned to the side to suppress a smile and a laugh. Foreign names can have a funny sound to those who aren't natives but these were just impossible to get used to.

"Thingamajig?" Twilight said, jumping with a sudden pique in interest. She edged forward and leered over Gadget for clues as she excitedly questioned, "Do you happen to know a Doodad Thingamajig?"

"Grate my gears!" Gadget exclaimed, quickly matching the unicorn in excitement. "That's my pop! You know, I pegged you for a Canterlot pony. How is the old bag of bolts?"

"Oh, it's been too many years," Twilight admitted. "I took some lessons on mechanical assembly under him a long time ago, way before I moved to Ponyville. You've probably seen him more recently than I have."

The two ponies began to chat away with delight like long lost siblings who had reunited. Fast stories were exchanged of growing up under the golden roofs of their home city, and of what it was like in days past. Twilight shared her connections to the royalty and her arduous path of study through life: her brother Shining Armor's eventual duties with the Royal Guard, her own study under the wings of Princess Celestia, and her dedication to the research of friendship which eventually brought her out of the great city. On the other side, Gadget was eager to talk about her family and their long residence in the humbler parts of town: father Doodad always made himself available as a mentor to other ponies, mother Widget had a reputation for fixing every little thing for the neighbors which ever broke, brother Doohickey could never keep out of trouble because he dismantled things all across the neighborhood to study how they worked, and good old cousin Whatchamacallit... well, nopony really remembers what she ever did but they see fit to include her every time they talked about family anyway.

Like a hooked fish, Spike hung onto each passing word of their exchange. The air of memory they generated about Canterlot was equally compelling to him and sometimes he found it too irresistible to add his own comments to Twilight's side of the story.

As before, James was much more subdued and silent by comparison, feeling the expanse of separation that came from having no common relation to their tales. And yet at the same time, everything about the way the two ponies engaged each other was so ordinary and normal, like a thousand other friendly meetings he'd seen or had in his life. The blur of strange and plain feelings struck him with a heavy swing. Even the things about Twilight that he had already known, revealed by her in many of their earlier conversations, overflowed with a new freshness given by the excitement of her reminiscence. He didn't turn away or let their words tune out.

"Eventually I realized I didn't want to stay forever within the bounds of the city," Gadget explained. "So, I went to a few different places, saw lots of different machines... learned more than I could ever need! Sooner or later I happened along Ponyville, and I just really liked the feel of this town... not to mention it seemed like they really needed a pony of my talents, so I thought I'd stay. I'll go back to the folks for a visit from time to time, but in the end I guess I'm just not a city pony! Don't think I could ever go back to stay." She shrugged as if admitting that still surprised her, even after having come to the decision years ago.

"I understand what you mean," Twilight said. "At first I could never have imagined moving away from Canterlot. I thought everything I could ever want was there, and I resented having to come to Ponyville to fulfill my duties. But now..." She shook her head with the same kind of surprise as Gadget, flooded with hindsight and awestruck at where her journey had taken her. "Now I could never imagine my life without having come here! I really had to head somewhere else, somewhere I didn't want to be, to grow in ways I never knew I could."

Gadget nodded in agreement as she added, "You know, Pop had a way with assembling his words, too. He would always say things like, 'You won't know where you need to be until you get there.'"

"Yeah," Twilight giggled. "I remember. My favorite was, 'You'll always have enough time, if you take enough time to start.'"

The phrase resonated within Gadget and suddenly time seemed to press in on her. She was filled with haste again, still squelched shy of being recklessly rushed. "It's been fun shooting the breeze now, but you did call me in here to fix something, am I right?" she asked quickly. Swiveling about, she searched the room for any obvious task which might have summoned her. When she failed to find anything, her lightly suspicious gaze settled again on Spike and James, and she honestly mused aloud, "Your pet dragon or ogre here get into something they shouldn't have?"

James subtly shook his head, half-amused yet half-annoyed. He felt that this treatment was no different than he had gotten from most of the other townponies, whenever he had sparse interactions with them. Only Twilight's friends seemed to have put aside his outsider spectacle nature with any speed. He wasn't precisely caught off guard by Gadget's words but it turned his mind inwards regardless. It ached in a similar way to a feeling he had experienced before: being the soldier who marched through someone else's village. But it wasn't the same. Even without any hostile suspicion there was something subtle and invasive about it all.

Spike wasn't nearly as quiet about the remark. "Hey!" he shouted as he stepped forward with a protruded chest and a raised arm, "I work here! I resent being considered just a pet! I could find my way around this library in the dark, blindfolded, both arms tied behind my back, while hopping on one foot. I know it like the spines on my back. I know where every book is and goes." He folded his arms and shot his nose up, snapping his tail once with indignation. But the quick whipping toppled the tiny tower of books behind him and he cringed with embarrassment before he started to pick them up.

"They aren't my pets," Twilight interceded. "Spike has been a near lifelong companion," she rapidly took over rebuilding the dragon's fallen tower with her magic, "and James is... new to town. From far away. So it's no surprise you wouldn't recognize that... he's... not an ogre." She seemed tentatively happy with her response and reached for a smile.

An aura of rudimentary regret rose from Gadget, and with a pinch of dismissal she said to the boys, "Aw, pull my plugs, I didn't mean any accusation or implication. It really is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, sirs." Without delay she turned again to Twilight, staring with expectation and clearly trying to rush things along.

"Oh, yes," Twilight said, fumbling slightly. "We have a broken Detectatron. A MagiMax, that is. The hardware failure light came on. It's, ah, right this way."

At the name of the device, Gadget's ears shot up and stiffened, attentive and wary. There was an obvious churning of thought behind her eyes; some chain reaction of rumination triggered by those words alone. But whatever it was that she knew, she kept it hidden and patiently followed Twilight, with Spike and James falling in behind her.

They had hardly gone to the next room, where the busted equipment waited for them, when Gadget admitted blandly, "I'm sorry if I seem pressed for time but I got another request for work somewhere else and thought I could stop by here first, on the way. At least to get an estimate." Her eyes never really wavered, glinting with a sure confidence that she knew how this task would play out.

"Oh. I completely understand," Twilight accepted. She stepped up her pace slightly, feeling a twinge of worry that things might not be resolved as soon as she had hoped. It had been so exciting, anticipating a demonstration of the machine for James; something for once he could perhaps more easily relate to. Now the delays had become inescapable and insufferable. But she resisted any urge to be imposing, adding, "Any help that you can give us is appreciated."

When they reached the machine everyone stopped except for Gadget. Her stride didn't even falter as she approached it, bobbing her head with assurance. She flipped open her saddlebag and withdrew a thin, screwdriver-like tool with her mouth while she absent-mindedly asked Twilight, "So, is this the A or the B model?" There was no pause for an answer; the repairpony immediately used her hoof to pop open a large hatch on the cylindrical core of the machine.

Twilight rifled through paper and box in a haphazard search for a response. She stammered. Words bubbled up only to recede before they could be fully uttered, until at last all she could admit was, "It, uh... it doesn't say?"

"It's the A model," Gadget casually replied before she flung her forward half into the open hatch. Crisp sounds of shuffling metal and the jangle of springing wires rose up out of the mechanical tube as she set to work. She explained to the others, her voice taking on a bouncing, metallic timbre through the machine, that, "The first version of any MagiMax device is always the A model. It's implicit. And their hope is that they never need to put out any new letters. But sometimes... designs go wrong."

"Wrong how?" Spike asked.

"Oh, you know," she elaborated between the irregular snaps and whirs her efforts produced, "overengineering, not enough ventilation, parts not rated correctly... for any and every reason, really. If they knew what to look for, they wouldn't need to find it. Heh. That's ALSO something pop would always say."

James noted, somewhat hesitantly, "So, you're saying that this thing is defective."

"No. Well... yes. I mean no. I mean...," Gadget vacillated. Finally she hoisted her head up out of the machine to speak at them directly. "Yours here IS defective, insofar as it's BROKEN. Speaking in general, the A model of the Detectatron isn't defective... uh, initially anyway. Just mistakenly designed with a fault." She dove back in. "The B model fixes the fault that leads to defective machines, if you're following me."

The explanation was more than a little circumlocutious, and the fast delivery and oblique approach was enough to throw James off. He turned to Twilight with a shrug.

The unicorn did a better job of tracking Gadget's reasoning. She asked, "So, you think there's a design flaw which caused my Detectatron to break?"

"Think? Oh, I know it." A sharp, loud click came from inside the machine, and then a few moments later Gadget's tool flipped out of the hatch and into the air, tumbling in an arch before it landed precisely in her saddlebag. She pulled herself completely out of the device and resealed the hatch, ending her mechanical surgery. In her mouth was an extracted piece of the machine: a wide and flat hunk of metal with a couple of layers, torn grievously down its center. It was nearly shredded through, and Gadget held it carefully to avoid cuts from the splayed, jagged edges.

Showing it to them up close, she explained, "Torn lens aligner. This happens, the primary lens falls out of place, it trips the hardware fault sensor, and then the whole thing refuses to even start." Delicately she placed the debris into her bag and closed the flap. "See, when originally designed, they miscalculated exactly how much load could fall upon that little thing, so it's fairly common for it to tear with only a small amount of use. Common enough that the B model was put out almost right away to fix it. Literally the whole difference between the two models."

"Well... can you fix it?" Twilight trepidatiously asked.

The repairpony shrank back, sullen, knowing the disappointment she was going to bring. "You need a new part. You could get a replacement direct from MagiMax, special order. They're pretty generous in this kind of situation: send them proof you've got the A, they'll send back the part for the B. Would take a few days, though."

"Oh... I had really hoped that...," Twilight mumbled woefully, dropping off.

"Hey... tell you what, Twilight," Gadget offered, "It really isn't a complicated piece. I can dig up the specs and machine a replacement in my shop, no trouble. Just not right now. I need to handle my other business first. You let me take care of that and then I can pull everything together and crank out what you need by later today. No extra charge."

"Really?" The unicorn suddenly bounced back, delighted by the altruistic proposal. She smiled brightly as she bowed her head low in thanks, saying, "That's awfully kind of you! That would be fantastic, Gadget. Thank you so much!"

"Oh, quite welcome. Least I could do really; save you from waiting around for shipping," Gadget shrugged, simultaneously indulging in the appreciation while trying to maintain some modesty. In secret, an early evening spent metalworking sounded like a relaxing way to kill some time after the workday. She pledged, "I promise by this evening you and the zoo crew here will be picking up signals all the way out to the Everfree Forest!"

The "zoo crew" cast dim glances at her, but she gave them a friendly, playful wink in return.

Satisfied with her diagnosis and proposed solution, they started returning to the front door to see her out. As they went, Gadget said, "It's been a real pleasure. Again, I promise I'll be back with what you need before you know it. Heh, and then I'll throw the bill at you, of course."

"Alright. Thanks again!" Twilight answered with a chuckle. She opened the front door while the others gave their goodbyes.

One hoof out the door, Gadget said with a wave, "Until later, then. Got to head down to Sweet Apple Acres and see what they need."

"Oh, you're going to see Applejack!" Twilight immediately realized.

"Well crank my cogs! You know her too?" the repairpony expressed with surprise. She blew out a dry breath with a wag of her head before remarking, "Coincidences, coincidences... small world."

"She a good friend of mine," Twilight explained.

"Ah, well, if you don't mind my saying," Gadget voiced with eased caution, "her head can be a basket of apples when it comes to some machines. I've had to go down there more than I would like sometimes. You'd think a farm pony might know more about how her own equipment works. I'm telling you now, I bet I won't be surprised to find what I find when I get there." Her sentences squeezed together as she spoke, crushed close with an air of grievance.

Initially Twilight offered no response, not wanting to step into whatever disagreements the ponies shared. But, with an aside glance at James and a full realization of how her day's plan had already changed, she asked, "You know, Gadget, it's a bit of a walk to Sweet Apple Acres from here. Would you like some company?"

There was a damp, sweet moisture in the air. It was fresh and reinvigorating, engendering a comfortable walk out to the farm. The day was cleansed; past and present were purified; the drowned morning was erased from memory by the lively afternoon. Ponyville, too, had forgotten the gray rain, save for the wet shine it had left behind. Many ponies were out and about now. Some raced to complete tasks which hadn't been important enough to have braved the earlier rain for. Others were just out to enjoy the afternoon. With the storm fully passed, the great cloud it had brought over life went as well.

Walking together, Twilight, Gadget, and James ambled their way towards Sweet Apple Acres. Spike had stayed behind to prevent letting his chores get ahead of him. The thought of joining them had been enticing for a short while, but there were only so many free hours in the day and ultimately he had thought he didn't want to spend his watching Gadget fiddle with more machines.

The two ponies picked up their earlier reminiscences right where they had left off. Thoughts on old lessons passed on from Gadget's father, reflections on the grandeur and spectacle of Canterlot's regular fairs and festivals, and trading favorite dishes from the long since closed down Greasy Feedbag. With so much overlap in past experience, they wondered if perhaps they had met years ago, even if only briefly. In some ways it seemed almost impossible that they could've missed crossing each others' paths for all those years (Twilight pinned the failure on the reclusiveness she had exhibited growing up.) In other ways it didn't matter at all because now they had come together anyway and it was as if they had always known each other regardless.

At first, James still wasn't able to find much to say. Again, the old places and acquaintances which were brought up weren't anything or anyone he knew. The events, the festivals... they were all things that were a world apart from him. But as he continued to listen, the comparisons and differences seemed to drop away more and more. The specifics diminished in relevance, the casual manner in which they conversed popped out more, and all the previous undercurrents which would flaunt alienation, even distantly, just dissolved. When Gadget began relating a fond experience from the old, dingy restaurant, it was the first time that he felt something familiar fully push through to him. The others were a little surprised when he suddenly spoke.

"We never went out to eat much; Mom liked having everyone around the dinner table at home, together, so she went to great effort to cook for us. Probably was cheaper to stay in too. But when we did go out... there was that same kind of place in my town. It was called 'The Slim Drippings Grille.' Everything they served seemed to come out sloppy but delicious." His memories dredged up images of the restaurant's flickering neon sign, and as he spoke his hands couldn't help but repeat the old motions of handling crumbling, slippery food. That type of frisky cuisine which hardly discouraged a child from playing with their dinner. "And every meal they'd give your table a literal pail of peanuts on the side because... hey, peanuts. We'd eat'em and just throw the broken shells on the floor. Everyone else did!" he explained with some spontaneous excitement, again miming the action. In delivering that short story, he immediately felt snapped into their conversation.

"Haha, well that does sound like the kind of place to bring a little filly or colt," Gadget remarked. His broken silence prompted her to scrutinize him again, but whatever conclusion she drew, if any, must have been irrelevant to her because she merely carried on her thought, quipping, "Any place they're free to make a mess, right?"

"I guess! It certainly was my favorite," James said.

Twilight was delighted to hear him add his own thoughts in. His sedentary behavior since arriving in Equestria hadn't escaped her notice. In general she had tried to spend as much time with him as her other obligations would allow. The task of being his guide had been assigned to her specifically by Princess Celestia after all. To the best of her observation, she had never caught him really being active or engaged with others; a note which tugged gently at her worrisome nature. Finding him standing out in the rain still bothered her also, regardless of how he played it off. But she stressed onto herself a deliberate need to try and be understanding. He had been through a lot... was probably still going through a lot in fact, so maybe a little space was called for. For now, this little walk and talk was enough.

The open chitchat brought swiftness to their journey and sooner than expected the statuesque apple trees appeared beyond the wooden fence which divided the road from the farm; the first visible orchard on the way to Sweet Apple Acres. They turned to follow the path that ran up to the farmhouse but they weren't far in before they spotted Applejack in one of the orchards, hauling an overflowing basket of apples in the same direction. Twilight called out to her and she returned a jovial greeting, barely taken aback by Gadget's unexpected but not unwelcome accompaniment. With a wave, Applejack directed the others to head towards the barn where she immediately joined them after setting down her load.

"Twilight!" Applejack shouted, full of welcome. "So kind of you to come around this way, sugar cube! Now, this business or pleasure?"

"Pleasure. Just a friendly visit!" Twilight responded.

The farm pony returned a nod with a smile before she moved on to her next visitor. "Beanstalk! Crawled out of the old dustbin I see! (Pardon, Twilight.)" she called at James. She had barely seen any of him since his welcome party, but then again it wasn't like the farm tended to itself so maybe the chances just hadn't been there. Amicable and curious, she asked him, "I reckon you've been makin' some time to wander about Ponyville? Get to know the place right proper? What you been up to?"

"Ah, just reading," he admitted, feeling a measure of disappointment. Applejack had been the one to most strongly recommend he do some exploring, seek out some discovery, or really do anything that revolted against the nature of a shut-in. But most of his time in recent days had been filled with either flipping through Twilight's recommended books or sitting about, sometimes silently with his own thoughts and sometimes with whoever came by and asked to chat. He wasn't disappointed with himself for that behavior so much as he felt that innate twinge of lament that comes with letting someone down, even in a small way.

"Well, fiddlesticks!" Applejack moaned in dejection. It wasn't that she expected more of him. She hardly knew him enough to have accurate expectations. But still, what was healthy about never getting a little outside air? She pressed him, "Now I ain't one to be pushy, but you'll turn into a bookmark if you don't manage to pull your nose out those word-traps and see something outside that stuffy library. (Again, pardon, Twilight.)"

James shrugged. He thought about explaining himself but it was stopped by his own ignorance suddenly revealing itself. In his mind there was never anything against going out more, but the feelings of wanting to or needing to were never there. Rarely were responsibilities laid upon him which called for it. Thinking about it, he was even surprised to realize that he had also rarely ever summoned the energy to step out the door of his own will. He tried to produce reasons and justifications for it but anything he came up with rang hollow or seemed overly rationalized. So he left his response as no more than the bounce of his shoulders.

Applejack mulled for a moment but then gave him a hopeful nod. She turned her head towards the one guest that she had actually anticipated.

"Howdy," she greeted Gadget coldly. All of her friendly warmth evaporated in an instant, leaving nothing but a shell of forced politeness.

The chilly recognition was mirrored on the repairpony's side. "Hey... again," she replied, almost intentionally detached. "What do you have for me this time?"

"Darn hay baler's bein' as useless as a lullaby at a hoedown," Applejack bitterly complained.

"You don't say," Gadget retorted. When she had first left her shop in the morning she had predicted this particular piece of equipment would be the problem. It was a prediction which held enough certainty that she nearly drew up the bill before departing. This wasn't the first time she was called out for this, she doubted it would be the last, and when something is done the same repeatedly, to expect different results would just be insanity, right?

The enmity which had oozed into the air thickened. Applejack commented aloud, "Reckon it sure would be nice to have a baler that works when it's supposed to, and not one that's just an unsightly fixture fancying up our barn half the time."

"Yeah, that'd be great," the repairpony dryly answered with a frown. She beat the ground impatiently with a hoof.

Twilight was taken aback in a panicked silence, her eyes swerving back and forth between her old friend and her new friend. Gadget had made some slightly negative comments about Applejack before they had left but now that they had arrived things had somehow rapidly nosedived for the worse compared to anything she could have imagined. The two-way nature of this strange animosity especially confounded her. Cautiously, she forced herself to smile before she feigned a cough to clear her throat. "Ahem... so... uh... what exactly is the trouble, Applejack?"

Uttering an irked grunt, Applejack pushed open the barn doors to reveal the baler, left where it had been deposited after its failure to function. She directed to Gadget in a tone that was half-command, half-disdain, "Can you get on with your job so I can get on with mine, hm?"

Gadget breezed past the farm pony, giving a hard glare as she went. After a quick safety check on the controls to be positively sure the machine was completely disabled, she began her assessment. In particular, she immediately flocked to the intake, and before long she began prying off some panels in the same area.

Applejack watched briefly, shaking her head. She turned to leave but was caught by a concerned Twilight, who asked her quietly, "Hey, is everything alright, Applejack? You seem a little... upset."

Obviously strained, she replied, "Fine, fine. Aggravated, sure. But just behind schedule is all. All because this 'top-of-the-line' piece of junk can't get on top of startin' when we need it to."

"This sounds like something more than a late day working the farm, though," Twilight hinted.

"Sounds like a recurring problem," James tacked on. From the height of the engaging conversation on the road, he had again fallen into quiet observance. But it wasn't because he was pulled away from comfort or familiarity. In fact, the overt disagreement and derision between the two ponies reflected many older experiences of his which flashed dimly in his mind. Certainly it was what made Applejack's tone so undoubtedly recognizable to him; the sound of desperately wanting to vengefully squeeze the life out of the inherently lifeless. His curiosity had been drawn out by his perspective. Most of the time he felt he was treated as a guest or an oddity, with all the typical courtesy or reserve that comes along with those. It wasn't often, at least yet, that he got to see these casual rips and tears in the ponies' social fabric. The prior instance which stood out the most to him was his own experience under a suspicious Rainbow Dash. Seeing it again here, from a more removed view... it was hard to look away.

"Hmph, recurring is right," Applejack complained. She regarded the contraption like a tainted scrapbook, all the memories irredeemable because the few bad ones cast their shadow over the whole. "It has one simple job, the job it's named for, and it's like every dang time I turn around it has some problem doing it!"

Gadget pulled out of her deep evaluation. A certain amount of tension coursed through her. Perhaps she had seen (or heard) enough. Whether inflamed or annoyed, there was a stabbing quality in her voice when she commented directly at Applejack, "Balance my beams! Are you sure the problem isn't with you?"

Chapter 4: Tear

"Well, I don't know," James lamented, his remark salted with a trivial amount of annoyance. "You sure ask a lot of questions, especially for something that I wasn't even there for."

"You're the only one who knows about it, though!" Twilight pointed out, "and it's for certain that I'd never get an answer if I didn't even try to ask. So, how about this instead: where did the buyers come from? If industry was expanding rapidly, producing vastly more goods, somepony had to be buying to fuel the economic growth."

The trip to return to the library had seen Twilight fling questions unending at James. The exchange at Sweet Apple Acres had sparked her interest about the technological development of his world and more specifically the period of rapid industrialization he had mentioned in particular. The revolution of industry that ignited a firestorm of manufacturing; it was a fascinating social dynamic to think about. Unfortunately for her, the more she pressed the bounds of his knowledge, the more blank pages he produced.

"I don't know!" James said again. His arms floundered about, grasping at straws, but his school memories couldn't resurrect the details. "Colonies maybe? There was a lot of territorial expansion in the age before, and more at the same time. Maybe... something about rising standards of living, too... but... I really don't know, Twilight."

A disheartened quiet briefly settled in, the pattern of inconclusive answers catching up to the unicorn's notice. Finally, instead of raising another question, she bemoaned, "I just wish I had a book or something! The Industrial Revolution sounds so intriguing, but naturally there's no library in all of Equestria which would stock anything on it! You're my only source."

"Sorry," he offered, not for the first time. "Before my time. I only learned so much about it in school, and quite a few years ago at that."

"I imagine there was a lot to learn. Accelerated technological development, social upheaval, all going on for decades!" She pictured the mountains of books needed to contain such treasurable knowledge and history, arranged in stacks and pyramids, rows and columns, shelf by shelf; a cityscape of literature. "I can't blame you for not retaining it all," she said to him.

"It's not particularly that, I guess. I'm sure I did read a lot. But I mostly focused on what I needed to pass the test on it," admitted James. "Then once that was done, forget it."

"Really?" Twilight wondered. The notion was incomprehensible.

Although she had uttered more of a subjective non-question, he still opted to give her an answer. Heaving a shrug, he told her, "I'd say studying means different things to you and I. So... sorry I don't remember more."

Hearing his second apology within the same minute, Twilight quickly backpedaled. "Oh, don't worry about it," she assured him, "It's just a strange kind of frustrating, you know? Can you picture it? There's a library somewhere, out in another world, and it's endlessly teeming with new things to study and learn! But there's no way to ever get a book from it!"

His face twitched with a friendly glower and he pointed on ahead. Following his finger, Twilight caught site of her own library coming up ahead of them.

"Oh. Right...," she whispered abashedly.

They arrived shortly thereafter and entered the building. A dull silence consumed the room as they shut the front door behind them. Spike was nowhere to be seen in the main chamber, though there were telltale signs of his recent presence: the room was well ordered and all the requisite chores were completed.

Twilight felt a shock from the transition to sudden stillness. The dry, almost aching emptiness of the room stirred her thoughts. She reached into her head to try and recall her daily schedule. Unfortunately, all the wrong turns and detours that had emerged in the road today had devastated any plans she had made, leaving her with little to salvage. There were her own responsibilities she could tend to; it wasn't like James couldn't handle himself as he usually did while she was busy. She had already spent much more time with him than usual today because of all the hullabaloo. Being able to afford eating the lost time was the value of preparedness, planning, and being ahead of your tasks, though. Yes, now, she thought, seemed a safe time to disengage from him.

"I suppose we'll need to wait for Gadget to come along again before we can do anything," she sighed.

"Sure, that's fine. Whatever," James replied casually. He was already halfway to the wall where he had earlier, before they left, set down several books.

Twilight cringed at his sudden return to a very indifferent tone. It was as if coming back to the library had immediately infused an aura of solitude into him. It was especially noticeable after he had seemed to do so well outside. In an instant she felt a creep of reconsideration crawl up her back and there was a nervous twitch in her tail. Inside her, a burning need sprung up. She should try to do something, anything, to drag him back to activity. It quietly pushed its way into her senses like an increasing burden slowly being lowered onto a creaking wooden pallet. But she struggled to improvise a solution in the absence of some other outside distraction.

Then she noticed the book he picked up as he sat down.

A tome of a delightful red hue, a dancing mare embossed in faded gold on the cover, with a well-worn binding from so many repeated openings; it was a book she knew exceptionally well. It was the only work of fiction among the small collection of recommended reading she had given him when he had first arrived. It was the hook she needed.

"Oh, 'Shadow of a Pony's Heart'! So you're reading it then?" she asked excitedly.

"Yeah, those other books are informative and everything, but they're hard to read at length without going cross-eyed. So I bounce between those and this," he explained. He held back his tongue on revealing that he was first inspired to pick it up after being impressed by her maturity; how he had somewhat regarded the ponies as being consumed with childish naivety at first, until she had shown him how naive that had been of him.

"While the reference material does a good job of being both comprehensive and concise, I know what you mean," she remarked. "I'm really glad to see you reading this one, though! It's one of my favorite stories! Where are you at?" Eagerly she brought herself over and sat in front of him.

James flipped the book so Twilight could see just how many pages were ahead of, and behind, his bookmark. He told her, "I'm at the part where Sidlesong and her friends reach the bridge that leads into the Shadowed Lands, but the guardpony Iron Curtain won't let them cross, for their own safety."

"Ah, that's a great part!" She practically spilled over with enthusiasm. "How they're able to-"

"I've gotten to that part, but I haven't read it yet," James interrupted.

"Right, sorry," Twilight innocently laughed, happy that he had taken enough interest in the tale to actively ward off any spoilers. "It really is a good part, though. I hope you like how it turns out."

"I'm sure one of Sidlesong's crew will do something to win over Iron Curtain and convince him to accompany them across the bridge and beyond," James flatly stated.

"... How... how can you be so sure?" Twilight responded faintly to his unexpectedly accurate prediction.

Her obvious disappoint confirmed his guess but he wasn't bothered by that knowledge. He had already been stoutly secure in his projection. "It's one of the most prominent themes of the book," he remarked. "Friendship, even reconciliation. All the ponies who go with Sidlesong over her adventure start out as either an adversary or an obstacle before they join up with her."

"Oh, you picked up on that already," the unicorn uttered. In a way, she was impressed.

"Well, sure. It's one of the first big things that happens in the book," expressed James, trickling with an ounce of confusion. It seemed obvious; the story really went to the trouble of establishing the lesson up front. "In the beginning, right before Sidlesong leaves her hometown, she faces off against her rival in that singing and dancing contest, and after she wins she immediately invites her rival along for the journey."

"I just didn't think the theme would seem so pronounced to you," Twilight admitted. She didn't remember how early she had picked up on it during her first reading of the tale but it definitely became one of her favorite aspects of the story once she had finally recognized it. "At least, I didn't think it would be so obvious until later on. It's really more tied together in the end when-" She slapped her hooves over her mouth.

James shrugged and a reduced laugh slipped out of his lips. "Don't worry about it," he told her. "I had some inkling of how they would deal with the Dreadful Dark Stallion in the end. Given how the book was going, I didn't imagine it'd break from the theme that flows through the whole story."

She was disappointed with herself for that leak getting through, but it was relieving to see how nonchalant he was about it. "I hope that doesn't ruin the ending for you," she regretfully rued. Then, to maybe lessen the blow, she offered, "I don't think endings always have to be a surprise to make a good book."

He mulled on her words for a moment before replying, "I'd agree. Sometimes it's true that HOW a story goes about its business is more important than WHAT the story is about. But I think you're right. Sometimes the opposite will work just fine."

"That the themes and core thoughts of the book bind the story together, regardless of what happens?" she verified. "I think so too. Some stories are great cause you really feel like maybe the good guys won't win this time; you get wrapped up in all that suspense. But other times you can't silence that part of you that absolutely knows beyond a doubt that they're going to win... but that's okay. Because you understand through the story just why they're going to win." Many different tales flipped through her mind. Even already knowing the ending to a story because she had read it before had never ruined her appreciation of it. "I think this story is a great example of the themes rising above, which is one of the reasons I selected it for you."

The remark made James stare back at her curiously, not completely sure what she was getting it.

Catching that, Twilight leaned in and asked him with intrigue, "Are there any other themes you picked up on?"

Seconds passed like the hollow ticking of a clock. Internally James raced through the his own summary of the tale so far, turning the details over again and again, but no other motifs called out to him.

"How about cooperation?" Twilight suggested. "Sidlesong is a bit clumsy, and though she does manage to beat her rival in the beginning, it's only with luck. And that's the big reason she invites the other pony along: she admits to needing the help." The story was engraved so deeply in the unicorn's memory that she could recite the exact dialogue the character used if she had to. But she knew she didn't need the words. The story demonstrated it again and again, and James was far enough in to see it, if he would just notice. "Then throughout the adventure, she and the others that join her figure out the best way to combine each of their talents against every obstacle they face."

It came back to him, retrospectively obvious under the spotlight, and he said, "I guess so. I hadn't consciously picked up on that."

"I think it's a very important theme. Sometimes we have to work together to accomplish things we can't do on our own." She smiled proudly. A familiar lesson. And always a valuable one.

James nodded, no stranger to the idea. One of the core principles of the military experience was the teamwork that went into everything, because your life will be in others' hands and theirs will be in yours. In reading the tale, why exactly had that theme slipped by him, while the theme of reconciliation had played out so clearly before him?

"I'd be interested in hearing more of your thoughts on the book when you get through it," Twilight suggested hopefully.

He bounced the tome in his hands, feeling the weight of how many pages he had to go. "Sure. It'll be a bit, though. I read it between the others. It makes a good break from actually studying the serious stuff. Since I am supposed to be learning here and everything."

The unicorn's eyes flashed as she slyly hinted to him, "Who says you're not learning about Equestria through this book?"

"Uh, well, it's a fantasy story," said James, touched by the peculiarity of her suggestion. "Fiction. Honestly, I thought it was a bit odd to package it with the other two fact books you gave me. It's not about Equestria like those are."

"But isn't it?" she immediately countered. "Go back to the themes again. There's not just something arbitrarily selected for the story. They're chosen by the author for a reason. In this big, wide, Equestria-encompassing story, those are the things the author finds right to press into the heart of the tale."

He began to catch on to what she was directing him towards. Why, exactly, she might have chosen this specific book. He spoke his realization aloud, "The story is a product of the culture."

"Exactly! You get it!" Twilight announced happily. "I didn't pull out 'Shadow of a Pony's Heart' for you because I thought it would be a fun story to share. Well, I mean... I do think it's a fun story, but... I pulled it out because I was already giving you things on the facts of Equestria but I also wanted to give you something with the spirit of Equestria."

"I see," James murmured. And it was true. How many school reading assignments were given to him precisely because of that same idea? "I don't usually think about it like that I guess. But one way to study other cultures, or even just the past in general, is to read and try to understand the stories and fictions that rise up from them, isn't it?"

"Sure!" Twilight instantly agreed. "And that's part of what they're there for. Stories that we pass down not just to entertain, or relay our history, but to teach. To reflect those things we think are, or were, important. We create these stories because they're such an integral part of us."

"Yeah, come to think of it," James realized, "even in dark times, like during a war, when somebody writes a story... even if it's not about the contemporary terrible things themselves, you can often feel those elements of it in the story... whether it's fear, or pride, or paranoia, or hope, or... anything of the feelings of that era. It gets in there." He was reminded of science fiction B-movies, and metaphorical monster stories, and other media where the villain of the day formed some obvious social reference.

"Well... 'write what you know' they say," recited Twilight. "I'm thankful there are authors who do. It leaves more than one way to learn."

James looked over the book in his hands once more. "In that light... I guess I can see how well this one fits in with the other books. So... thanks," he said sincerely. "I think I'm looking forward to reading it more now than before."

"Aw, you're welcome! I hope you like it!" Twilight answered heartily.

There was a dull, wordless moment that followed. When it appeared like nothing more was going to be said, James shrugged and shifted his attention back to the book.

Again a disturbing silence seemed to settle into the library, and to Twilight it was as if that dreadful, sullen aura had returned and overtaken her charge. Cold and still, he had his head down in the book, trying to gain traction in his reading. She could depart now to take care of her own things and he... should... be alright. Just another day of him sitting about by himself reading...

But maybe that was the problem. There had been trouble in the past with her leaving well enough alone. The welcome party Pinkie Pie had set up for him had turned out well in the end, but it had also certainly started off on the wrong hoof due to her decision not to step up and intervene in a more timely fashion. She had been giving him time and space for two weeks now but the distance and guardedness he had been keeping simply never faded. There hadn't been any improvement that she could measure, except in circumstances that she (deliberately or otherwise) had brought to him. He was lighter when company came. Today he had seemed to be shining until suddenly they had returned to the library and he had faded. Maybe now was the time to be a little more forceful.

"Ahem," she cleared her throat awkwardly.

James' eyes paused midway through the line he was reading.

Steadily she asked, "So... is everything alright?"

His hands tensed around the book slightly. She could perhaps be referring to his opinion of the book, but that's only what he wanted to believe. He knew exactly what she meant.

"Yes, I'm fine," he answered abruptly.

"I know," Twilight moaned, "but you say that every time I ask. I don't think you've ever responded to questions about how you feel with anything except 'I'm fine.' But I don't feel like you are."

Shifting uncomfortably and still keeping his eyes down on the book, he responded, "Well I am, don't worry about it."

"I AM worried!" she complained. "Obviously we haven't known each other for all that long, but I don't think all this... withdrawn solitude... is reflective of who you are." In fact, she was sure of it. He never would have been so sharing of himself if that were the case. "You're a different individual when we get you out... or when we bring others around here. And... and I know you've been through something hard, with not being able to go back to your home and everything-"

"Yeah, okay, but I'm fine!" he nearly shouted, working to restrain his anger.

The underlying aggression clearly upset Twilight some, and she stiffened so as to brace herself. She planned to dig into him more, if she absolutely had to.

James reproached himself for having let the pointless hostility creep into his voice; he just wished she would lay off the subject. Trying to be more forgiving of her, he offered, "Dealing with... big personal things... is hard, sure. There's a lot of emotions and everything... but that's for ME to deal with. And I'm fine. It's not like I haven't ever had to deal with complicated emotions before."

In a soft voice, Twilight echoed, "Maybe complicated is delicate? It can't be as simple as you're making it out to be." She put effort into looking him straight in the eyes and filtered her voice with honesty. "These past two weeks I've been trying to leave you some personal room... to give you space... so you can work through things," she admitted, "but remember that you can always come to me for help, or to talk, or anything! You don't HAVE to do it alone." The unicorn leaned towards him, nearly begging, "Please, talk about it... just a little. How have you been handling it?"

"Fine!" he thundered, before he quickly wiped his eyes and restrained his breathing. "I'm handling it fine. Just... taking time to... work things out or whatever." There was a drifting shake in his voice.

Twilight's unconvinced eyes stared into him. Days of reading by himself, or standing about in the rain pondering the weather, or engrossing himself whenever other things came around; she hadn't been able to monitor him all that time and she couldn't read his mind, but she didn't buy that he had sunk serious time into trying to organize himself.

"Maybe it's a little hard to talk about for you," she guessed. "But that's okay! We can take it in small steps. If you're upset or sad... we can work together to make you feel better! Everything will be alright."

"Don't be childish! Yeah, I'm a little sad about things maybe," James raved. He had a hard time putting a cap on himself now that it had all been let out, and he cursed to himself that this is exactly why he had been so withdrawn; to keep this all inside. But he wasn't able to stop now. "That's just the way it goes sometimes! Not every day is going to be a happy day! There's always going to be melancholy days now and again, that's just the way it is! That's normal! It's fine! I'm fine!"

He seized himself, trying to find a way to arrest his feelings. Harder than necessary, he threw his back into the wall behind him, trying to create even just a tiny bit more distance from Twilight, and he fumbled with the bookmark in his one hand. Desperate, he focused stringently on trying to pick up where he had left off in the book.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry for pushing." Twilight squeezed out her words in an apologetic rush. It wasn't as if there was a part of her that liked upsetting him but she firmly believed it was her role to help him. She just needed to involve herself more. "Why don't I get us something to drink, or maybe some snacks, and we can just sit down, rest easy, and talk it over a bit?" she uneasily suggested.

James pushed his head down, as if by ignoring her maybe he could just forget it all and dive back into the book. But his eyes couldn't focus on the words written across the current page. He would forcefully read one sentence and find it somehow hadn't stuck to him, the lost context making the next sentence unintelligible. In a burst of frustration he slammed the book shut.

The emanating violence of the act made Twilight bounce. She brought her voice down somewhat, pleading, "James, I'm just worried. I'm your friend, and I'm only trying to help."

"Well, you're not," he laid out flatly, before immediately waving his hands with regret. A swish of his palm which tried to wash the comment away. "Not what...," he began, but his words dead-ended.

Twilight pulled back, hurt. The room grew cold.

In a flash, James rose up. He unceremoniously discarded the book on top of the nearby pile where the others were. "Applejack was right, I'm been sitting in this stuffy place too much," he angrily pronounced and suddenly made for the front door.

The unicorn twisted as he passed, calling out with concern, "Wait, where are you going?"

"Out!" he harshly replied, slamming the door as he went.

Twilight got up and took diminishing steps towards the door before she stopped, sighed, and hung her head low. Soundlessly, she turned and shuffled deeper into library.

He hoarsely whispered indignant words to himself, his mind racing down a similar track, as he crashed randomly through the streets of Ponyville. He stomped and slammed his feet upon on every cobbled walkway that he arbitrarily selected. As usual, any ponies he came across nervously moved to the side and created space for him to pass, shooting him a strange stare as he went. Today they dodged him with more urgency than usual, perhaps feeling the disorder radiating out from him.

What a load. Everybody gets some emotional baggage. She had a lot of nerve trying to drill herself into his. Striking the side of his head with his palm, he reminded himself that Twilight's intentions were pure. When he calmed down again he would need to remember not to hold it against her, and even apologize for some of his rudeness. He just wasn't happy with how she had chosen to go about her attempt at help. This wasn't some risky dive into the Everfree Forest; some matter where she had both the superior knowledge and legitimate authority. It was his business, and his problem to work through.

When he had first arrived in Equestria, there had been a few days of dealing with shock. Unexpected survival of a dangerous situation followed being presented with a rainbow circus of magic talking horses? It had pushed his capacity of believability to its limit, but it had also served as a happy distraction. It was in the following days, as all the tremors of shock had cleared up, that he had slowly felt the pain of separation emerge. It would come in pangs whenever he thought about the past, or when he saw any of the small things in life that were reminders of home. All the people that he loved: the near and the dear, the long remembered and the newly acquainted, the blood-bound and the soul-shared... all his friends and family... none of them he would ever see again.

It sucked.

But it was reality. And he could take it. He knew he could. He had already said serious goodbyes to them the last time he had departed. That was when he was shipping out to serve. Death, and never returning... the idea that it was going to be the last time he ever saw them... that was the reality already when he had left them. Even now, wherever they were, they would be presuming him dead. And he really was to them, in a way.

It was only on his end he wasn't quite dead. Being the living dead wasn't exactly something he had ever prepared himself for.

In any case, his plan had always been to deal with his heart in time. Just... at a pace he saw fit. Maybe as the days turned into weeks he had let his attention drift away from it as a matter of concern. Had let the books take over a bit more than they should have. That was okay; he was allowed that. It was still important that he learn about Equestria if he was going to live here. And it wasn't like he was short on time anyhow. Any possible ANYTHING for the rest of his natural life was gone with his transdimensional jump.

The rest of his life... gone...

"Hey!"

James blinked, the world coming into focus. He didn't remember how he had even gotten where he was. With a swift glance about to ascertain the situation, he realized he had stumbled into a slow afternoon at the market.

"Hey!" a yellow mare at one of the stalls called to him again.

The man pointed to himself questioningly, trying to verify that he was the one being addressed. He looked over at the pony who had beckoned to him, confused as to why she would call him, but then he suddenly recognized her. She was just one of the street vendors he usually bought some of his vegetables from. She obviously recognized him as well. Judging by her still present stock, the storm earlier had hampered her sales today.

"Yeah!" she confirmed for him. "Hey, mister! Coming out to purchase something today?" She swept a hoof over her goods as enticingly as possible.

That was it. For a moment, somewhere inside of him, James thought that maybe for once a townspony just wasn't treating him like an escaped zoo animal.

"No... just out for walk," he answered.

"Oh! Uh...," the vendor muttered nervously.

Seeing her balance thrown off, James began to turn away.

"Well... don't see you out walking much," the vendor suddenly said in an unsteady, if friendly, tone. "Usually you come by with that unicorn to get something."

"Just walking today," James reflexively responded.

"Oh." She shrank back, disappointed.

James stood there awkwardly for a moment before he hurriedly moved on, marching down one of the streets at random. There goes that potential conversation. She was trying to be neighborly. Nice work. Maybe she would have said something interesting, or thought-provoking, or distracting. But not anymore.

His frustration felt like a twisted knot inside. He almost thrashed the air as he walked, continuing to mutter to himself harshly. As the few ponies he passed gave him ever wider berths, he instinctively turned down a small, empty alley to get out of their sight.

As he stormed through he nearly tripped over a pile of discarded wooden boxes, his shin striking the edge of one as he passed in haste. Spitting angry words under his breath, he stopped to rub the fresh bruise. The rejected cartons were already partially splintered and broken, obviously being useless to whichever pony threw them out. He gazed at one of them particularly. It had one of its sides mildly torn through, the wood looking soft with early signs of decay, and the frame delicately clung on to the rest of the box by a loose nail.

With a heavy grunt, he grabbed the loose edge and gave it a twist. The torque ripped it off of the box, and then in a smooth motion he tossed it to his offhand and smashed his other wrist through it, shattering it.

Better. That felt good. Rebalancing himself, he took several slow, deliberate breaths. Immediately he felt calmer and more relaxed, save for the slight stinging sensation still lingering in his shin and wrist. Ignoring them, he continued on his way, emerging on a different street out the other side of the alley.

Maybe he should complete a walk around town. It would leave him the time to think about how he should go about apologizing to Twilight when he got back. But he still thought he had to make it clear to her that his feelings were his own business.

As he ambled along, trying to assemble a speech in his head, he felt a different sensation come to his wrist. It was cold and gentle, smooth and flowing, like a breeze. Picking up his wrist to inspect it, he noticed what the sensation was: the air passing through a three inch tear in his sleeve. His sleeve must have gotten caught on a jagged edge of the broken box and ripped.

"Great. Just great," he groaned, tensing up again.

Chapter 5: Style

"Hello? Oh!" Rarity pushed the door of her boutique open wider. She was caught off guard by her visitor, but she was flustered more by being surprised than by who her visitor was. "James. I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting you. You've made yourself scarce since the party."

"Oh, yeah. Just... haven't felt like going out much," the man feebly explained.

"Well... what can I do for you?" An honest curiosity gripped her. She had her guesses as to what he might have come for, based upon his last visit to her shop, but her imagination couldn't quite pin down any specifics.

With some embarrassment, James raised his right arm and tugged at his sleeve to make the broad gash in it more visible. He wasn't bothered by the cut directly; he had comfortably worn far, far more raggedy things in the past. He would normally be content to ignore such a tear and carry on as if it wasn't there. But he was upset because he still considered the clothes a loaned gift and thus he felt the damage was a poor reflection of how much he appreciated it. "Sorry," he whispered.

"Oh dear," Rarity remarked. She took a moment to study the cotton wound closely. "What a shame." Her eyes lifted up at him and flooded with muted concern. "You're not hurt, are you?" she asked.

James was slightly taken aback by her concern, a brief image of Twilight's worried face flashing across his mind. "Yeah, I'm fine," he punched out, brushing his thoughts aside. "I just... fell... and it ripped. Sorry," he apologized again.

The seamstress turned around and retreated inside, nodding her head to invite him in as she said, "Ah. Well, don't worry about it. These things happen you know. It won't take much to patch back together."

"Oh. If you're busy or anything...," mumbled James as he entered slowly and cautiously, staying close to the door in case he was intruding on something.

"No, no, not at all, dear," Rarity clarified. She trotted over to where her sewing supplies were kept and started shuffling through needles and threads with her magic. "I was actually about to head out to the spa for some thorough freshening up but, regardless, this shouldn't take long."

No longer feeling like an intruder, James stepped forward and waited for Rarity to gather her things. It only took her a minute to pull out a spool of thread which matched his sleeve in color, impressively selected from her memory alone. The spool whirled in the air as she tugged at the strand, deftly threading a needle in one go. Lastly, her pair of sewing glasses floated down onto her face, balancing steadily on her nose as she turned to face James.

"Hold still please," she requested. Her magic tugged at his arm and he relaxed his muscles in response, letting the limb go slack and falling into her control. The cloth about his arm rumpled and stretched until it was in exactly the position the mare wanted it, exposing the tear cleanly.

James held his breath as the needle lined up over its mark. Buds of sweat appeared on his forehead. Swift and sure, the needle suddenly bore into his sleeve and worked through its task expertly, guiding the thread along from edge to edge, all controlled by a steady, invisible hand. The man quickly loosened up, feeling safe under the seamstress' sturdy talent.

Rarity's eyes never left her work, her focus holding solid on the repairs, but she fell into rhythm after the first few stitches. To ease the passage of time, she spoke up to him, "So, ah... how have you been?"

"Just... fine," he answered uncomfortably. Again with the questions about his well-being.

"Well, I only ask because it's been such an absence," she commented. Her needlework wavered for a instant as she realized how apathetic her words sounded and she immediately corrected herself, "I mean, it's the polite thing to do."

"Y-yeah," James murmured back. He had to get this conflict with Twilight out of his head because it was spilling over into his interactions with others. Rarity in particular didn't deserve to put up with his foul mood, and not just because it would be impolite of him. He remembered with perfect clarity how exceedingly nervous she had been to meet him, and she was certainly justified in her restlessness. Yet still she had generously loaned him boots and made him clothes, at no expense to him. And with great speed she seemed to have mostly overcome her fear of him. Though he still felt she had a minute amount of agitation in his presence, the softest and faintest of jitters, she had reached a point where the ease and grace with which she conducted herself seemed perfectly natural. It really spoke well of her in his eyes, and he disappointed himself with how he seemed to treat her: ripping her nice clothes and failing to maintain his composure.

"I've been fine; just hanging out in the library reading a lot," he cleared up, putting as much etiquette into his voice as he could summon.

"Hm. Twilight doesn't have you trotting along to one of her endless schedules, does she?" Rarity asked. She squinted and pulled her face closer to her work, her voice coming out low and quick as she said, "Celestia bless her sense of duty, but I swear sometimes she lets her need to have control get the better of her."

The man nearly laughed at the remark. As much as he felt he agreed with it, he was trying to escape from that headache. "No, I just usually feel like staying in," he said. Then, with a bit of levity, he continued, "And maybe that was wise; first time I head outside for a walk by myself and I rip the fine clothes you made for me!"

"Well, as I said before, these things happen. And it's fixable. Steady now," she commanded. A pair of tailor shears came over and snipped the thread from the spool. The cut end danced itself into a knot, and then the needle pulled hard, sealing the wound. In short order the needle end was also cleaned up, and Rarity inspected her completed handiwork closely before lifting her glasses off and sending them to join her floating gaggle of supplies. "There, you see? No harm done."

Turning her head away, she sent her many supplies back to their appropriate resting places as James looked over the repaired sleeve. The damage was very well hidden by her corrections; unnoticeable to one who wouldn't be looking for it.

With the last of her things secured, Rarity turned back to him. "Besides, that old thing?" she quipped, gesturing dismissively to his apparel, "It's hardly my best work."

"Oh. It's very nice, though!" James countered, loosening his shoulders and then tugging gently at his shirt. "Especially for being incomplete. Sorry, again, about taking it before its hour. I just really needed the clothes at the time." He bowed his head.

"I certainly had a chestful of ideas, but it's quite alright," assured Rarity. "I've moved on. If there is one thing I can say with unquestionable certainty about my immortal trade, it's that there's ALWAYS another dress."

Relieved, James nodded to her. It was good to know that his impulsive decision to have gotten out of Princess Celestia's awkward, mutilated tablecloth hadn't left a negative impression on the dressmaker. He thought about her comment a moment longer and then told her, "Well, I'll need more clothes eventually." Holding up his arm, he ran a finger along the recent stitching. "One pair is clearly not going to last; not with how well I'm taking care of it."

"Perhaps when there's time," Rarity said. She didn't seem too keen on starting such a project anytime soon, but there was a tiny sparkle in her eye; a hint and hope of maybe someday getting to explore her old ideas further. "This is a business that I run here, you understand," she pointed out to him.

"Sure," he answered, understanding all the implications it had for her and for her time. "I don't have any money but I'd definitely find a way to pull some together and pay you for the work." Inevitably it would wind up being Twilight who would pay for such a thing, unless he could find some route of employment. But for some reason his mind couldn't imagine that path; one of settling in and surviving. It felt somehow like an unrealistic, or even undesirable, outcome. A strange revulsion was throwing him off, masked in an uncertain origin. It was almost as if the sense of normalcy about it spooked him.

Shaking the disheartened mood off, he smiled to Rarity and said, "It was kind of a needy situation before. I would actually like to see more of what you could do, given the time. Even this thing is probably the best assortment of clothes I've ever worn in my life!"

The unicorn's face flushed gratefully and she replied, "Flattery won't get you a discount... but it is very much appreciated."

James hummed with satisfaction as he felt the stitching one more time, before he said to Rarity, "Anyway, thanks a bunch for fixing this. I don't want to hold you up any longer."

"Oh, it's no trouble, dear," the seamstress responded confidently. "My trip to the spa is not an appointment to keep; I intend to just drop in. I don't expect they'd be busy at this hour. I need to get this atrocious mess cleaned up." She batted a hoof at the exquisite curls that made up the front of her mane, looking upon them with some disgust.

"I... see...," James gradually let out. The coils in her hair looks finely shaped and perfectly kept to him. With every little movement she made they seemed to breath and bounce. "You look like you're doing pretty good as is," he mentioned.

"Oh, please! It's an embarrassment for a lady to be off her top form. I should never have skipped out on that Marwari hair bath. Hmph." She looked upon her hair in despair, but as her eyes shifted past her locks she caught sight of the man's tied back, shoulder-length hair and immediately felt better by comparison. Holding in the mild nausea she felt at the sight of the wreckage on his head, she weakly hinted to him, "Your mane isn't doing so well, dear."

"My... hair?" he questioned, running his palm along the top of his head. He shot a look at one of the plethora of mirrors that littered the room but shook his head at seeing his plain, expected reflection. "What's wrong with it?"

"W-well...," the pony fidgeted, her voice tumbling out uneasily. Where to start, really? The split ends that every last hair seemed to have? The tangled knots and kinks that repeated as his hair wove its way randomly across his head in swerving chaos? It looked like it had been soaked in a storm and then left as a jumbled mess to dry. Despite being pulled back, bits of frizz and wild whiskers shot out all over. And was that a RUBBER BAND tying it back? Someponies have disordered, unkempt lawns on their heads but few have junkyards.

Her tongue crept out from behind her teeth and, with a shiver of her face, all she could utter was, "Eww..."

The only thing that crossed James' mind in that instant was that it was like having a sister all over again.

Then something in the air shifted. "I'm sorry... may I just...," Rarity squeaked as she edged closer to him. Like a predator stalking out of a bush, a feral glint had appeared in her eyes. Some barbaric natural impulse had assumed control. A industrial strength hairbrush came spinning out of a remote drawer and leveled itself over his head.

"Uh... what-"

Something seized the rubber band behind his head and ripped it out, letting his hair fall free. The brush dug itself into his scalp and began peeling back, quickly getting clogged in his matted cobwebs and pulling with increasing force to break the many repeated stalemates.

"Ow," cracked James. He grit his teeth tightly and stiffened his neck, resisting the pull as the brush tore down his hair in fits and pops. Loud snaps accompanied each strand of hair that was ripped from the root. Forget sister. This was like his mother dolling him up before school. He wasn't a boy anymore though, and this pony was most definitely not his mom.

His arms started to reach up to seize the attacking hairbrush but Rarity jerked it down harder, causing him to flinch again. Determinately, with the speed and strength of a booming thunderbolt, she decreed, "Sh, sh! Hold still! I apologize for the roughness, but one must tame the beast with the same ferocity it would use to subdue prey! No pain, no gain, after all!"

The brush finally burst through the end of his hair, but before James could sigh with relief it had already returned to the top and began raking anew. Heaving with endurance, he told his involuntarily chosen stylist, "It's not the pain that I mind... I just don't understand what you-" but he flinched once more as the fangs of the brush became held up in his scalp again.

Rarity hardly seemed to be conscious of his objections, her attention singlemindedly set on overcoming the challenge before her. But as her brush continued to struggle she came to realize how badly she had underestimated her enemy. Fuming with exasperation, she asked the man, "My goodness, just what do you wash this with?"

"Wash?" he echoed back, confused by the simple question. "... Water?" he replied, as if it should have been obvious.

She didn't respond for a moment, before she finally said expectantly, "... and?"

"And... and what?" he asked, still baffled. "Water," he repeated, pressing finality into the word.

By the way she gasped, it was as if her lungs had collapsed into a vacuum, absorbing the room's air with cosmic force. "You must be joking! Oh no no no no no no no, this WILL NOT do!" she exclaimed, pounding a hoof into the floor.

James felt the hairbrush go limp and he heard the clops of Rarity's hooves bound off to a side room. He turned to look at the doorway she had disappeared through, dismayed by the rattling, crashing, and thumping noises that began to blast out of it. Rarity finally returned with a large, dangerously red spray can hovering next to her. It bore a tiny, faint image of a mare flaunting a gorgeous mane, but the rest of it seemed to be covered in an ancient lost epic of manufacturer's warnings.

"What." He was having a hard time finding the right words to put his foot down with.

Withdrawing her brush, Rarity poised the can above him. Tilting her face away and masking her mouth with her hoof, she ruefully said, "Now, I'm sorry about this, but this is AN EMERGENCY."

In haste, James turned to get his face away from whatever chemical death she was about to rain down upon him, but he still tried to protest, "No, don't-"

The can hissed like a viper as it poured its venom upon his hair. It burned like tiny fires erupting across his skull. He shut his eyes and kept exhaling to keep the scalding particles out of anything sensitive, though enough of the foul smelling material approached his nose to cause a stinging sensation inside. He felt himself running out of breath as the bombardment endlessly continued. Was she using the whole can?

At last the downpour of cosmetic hellfire ceased, and they both coughed with their attempts to breath in the aftermath. Rarity swatted at the air with her brush to try and disperse the remnant chemical agent.

This aggressive hair styling assault had blown far past its welcome awhile ago. In-between gags, James sputtered, "Alright, that's enough of that."

"Well, yes, any more would eat through the roots and risk permanent baldness, which we certainly don't want," Rarity said, misunderstanding his objection. Her commanding voice continued, "Now, hold still again. This is going to be a delicate procedure. We have to stabilize the situation immediately!"

James sighed a feeble, complicated sigh. It cleared more of the despicable residue from his mouth. It also cleared some of the aggravation from his mind. And it also cleared some of the fight from his heart. Now that he was coated with the stuff it seemed too late to stop her so he might as well resign himself to her mercy. Instead, he presumed that this was his punishment for having shown up to impose upon her more than once. At least this way he avoided storming out on two ponies in one day. Twilight had been forcing her way into more sensitive matters, but he didn't care so much about sacrificing his hair. It seemed an especially justifiable concession since he considered himself owing Rarity so much anyway. So he fully relented and kept his tongue held back, merely sighing again.

"Here," he said, "this should make it easier." Gently, he sat himself down on the floor, crossing his legs, so Rarity could gain a vantage point from above.

"Thank you, but hold still!" she repeated. Her brush returned, once more tunneling into his hair. However, when she pulled, the difference was immediately noticeable. While there was still some starting and stopping, as well as a little cranking and yanking, the brush sailed through significantly easier than all the previous attempts. It also improved with each pass, and soon she had it gliding through effortlessly. He started to feel her magic grip his hair in differently organized chunks as she brought the brush through to smooth things out more selectively.

In a short time the fervor with which she had been combing him subsided. A calmness settled in, with the only sounds being the soft pat of the brush's placement followed by a gentle 'fwip' as it moved through his hair. The only sound, that is, until Rarity mused idly, "How could your mane have even gotten like this?"

"I don't know," James answered. He barely recognized the source of her complaints, let alone paid attention to the personal medical history of his own hair. "It's not even supposed to be this long. I'm supposed to have a crew cut, way down short."

Rarity's imagination conjured an image of his suggestion and she immediately rejected it with a hum of distaste. "Why?" she asked.

"That's the standard in-... I mean, the military... hmm..." He fumbled on deciding whether he should talk about his personal history or just the system in general, unsure what exactly would be relevant to the pony. "Well, I mean, I'm supposed to but I don't... it's this long story involving a nasty sergeant, an ill thought-out training exercise, and a delivery truck full of banana bread." No doubt back home there were still some secret whispers about the legend of the Great Banana Bread Massacre.

The mare raised a befuddled eyebrow.

With a swish of his hand, James tossed the train of thought away. It just wasn't really relevant. "Suffice to say," he told her, "punishments, reprimands, even hazing and things like that... they can get to be really weird things. I showed'em though. I learned to like the longer hair. Wear it proud."

Still saturated in confusion, she only murmured to herself, "Not much to be proud of with this."

"It's just hair," chuckled James.

Despite her prior derision of his hair, the seamstress suddenly became indignant. Lifting herself with righteous authority, she responded to him, "JUST hair? This is your MANE, sir! It deserves better! It is one of the purest channels of your self expression!"

"It's... what?" James said in disbelief.

"Take the things you wish to say and scream them out through your mane!" she declared. "Bold and beautiful, shy and gentle, ornate and exotic, loose and free! Take all the things you wish to be and wear them! Your hair is your chance to tell the whole world who you really are!"

"My mouth lets me tell the world whatever I want," James disagreed.

"Come now, there are more ways to communicate than just your words," Rarity insisted. "Besides, not every pony will listen to your words, but they'd certainly have a much harder time not seeing you. You may say you wear this rag proudly but you don't show it at all. Only when they see the confidence shining from your mane will they truly know that you're proud! They should never have to ask!" She gave her own noble curls a proud swish with a flick of her neck.

"The pride was more about overcoming a situational difficulty than... just doing up my hair... but it doesn't matter. Anyway, if anybody cares more about my hair than my words? That's their problem," he countered. His arms folded across his chest in resistance. "Wouldn't listen because of hair? Think less of me, or ignore me, because of hair? Come on, that's them being ridiculous. That's not something I have to do anything about. As if the hair makes the man. Give me a break."

Rarity finished her work, setting the brush aside. She shuffled about as she inspected his hair; the straightness and separation of each strand, and how it now simply hung down instead of being discordantly crumpled about.

"Now, now," she said while she reviewed her results, "don't underestimate the value of good first impressions. You'll leave your mark immediately if they're dazzled by your hairdo. They'll understand your uniqueness instantly if they feel something special in your mane. They'll know that you care and are dedicated if they can see at a glance how much care and dedication you put into yourself. Yes, if you're impressed enough with how you show yourself, they'll be impressed by you too, and it all comes back around." Satisfied that her emergency operation had averted impending disaster, she trotted around him to face him head on. "That's what it means to make a good first impression. Goodness knows I certainly have a hard time forgetting first seeing you, when-en-en-en-" She stuttered and seized like a choking machine, the unwanted memories reflecting in her eyes.

James turned aside. His askew glance caught sight of a mirror and he couldn't hide his smirk upon seeing his tamed hair for the first time, without the unordered curls or wild frizz.

Suddenly Rarity cleared up, steadying herself and taking a refined, poised, ladylike stance. She was in control, and she tried her best to put her dignity forward. "Ahem," she coughed, "well, I'll just say again that that's the value of a good first impression. It helps smooth out all these... difficulties. You can speak with all parts of yourself but none may be more potent than a good look."

"That's still absurd," the man moaned, turning to face her. "If you've got something important or meaningful to say, why would your hair even matter?"

"It's about more than that!" she firmly asserted. "Every part of you is part of your message, whether you want it to be or not! Think of it like a mirror, perhaps: if you make yourself up to reflect something polite, or daring, or beautiful... then other ponies will reflect that back at you." She poised and postured as if she were a reflection herself, exhibiting all the qualities as she named them.

He looked back at her strangely, still unable to interpret what she was saying. There wasn't a single version of it that made sense to him.

Rarity tried again: "Haven't you ever found ponies treating you a certain way, only to later realize it was because you were acting in such a way?"

He blew a stream of air out of his lips and shook his head. Searching through his past, he found plenty of times when he felt others had set expectations for him to meet, or even to rise to. But, to his interpretation, there was a relative absence of events where he had set the pace. From child, to student, to soldier; he had always been in a position to respond. Now there certainly was the exception of first impressions, like between him and Rarity, but even the significance of that had fallen by the wayside once she had the time to see how he normally acted.

"Surely you can think of something," Rarity said. She was almost stunned into disbelief at what was either his unwillingness or inability to produce an example. At last she griped, "Oi. In any case, it's important to show the best sides of yourself. A little sense of fashion and style can go a long way."

"I think the first impression they'd be getting is that I was vain and self-absorbed," James commented, amused.

"Oh, horse blisters!" Rarity scoffed. She pointed a hoof to herself, asking rhetorically, "Surely you don't think I'm vain?"

"The thought had-," James began. But, as he looked at her, he again remembered the generosity she had always shown towards him, and the effort she was always putting in to overcoming her fear. Even this surprise attack with the hairbrush, by far the worst she had ever treated him, was still rooted in some kind of perverted generosity, if her words were anything to go by. He restarted, "The thought HADN'T... occurred to me."

"There, you see? No harm done," she confidently repeated. "Now, I've managed to salvage your mane for the time being but if you want to really get something phenomenal going it'll need more work. Hmm..." She retreated deep into thought.

Standing up again, James remarked, "Well, thanks I guess, but that's alright."

But once more, something different came to Rarity's eyes and it was as if his words passed right through her unheard. She had one hoof partially lifted, dangling like it was sorting through all the possibilities soaring through her head, and her hard gaze never left his hair.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked in trepidation.

It was a warm and pleasant sensation. A relaxed, peaceful tingling spread through him. Tiny, toasty waves bounced and splashed against the top of his head. The light, soothing touch of the heated water somehow granted the enveloping, full-bodied feeling of a steaming bubble bath, though it was only James' hair that was submerged. He was laying on his back, resting upon an adjustable spa bed, with his head on the edge of a built-in sink that was filled with hot water coated in a bubbling lather. The whole setup was tilted just slightly downwards, to help let his hair fall into the mixture. About him, the quiet, aromatic environment of the Ponyville spa formed a serene backdrop.

"I feel a lot better," he dreamily declared.

"Mmm, richer than finding a top grade diamond in the rough, smoother than the finest silk dress," Rarity added. She was laying in the neighboring bed, undergoing a similar treatment.

"Yeah. I don't know why I've never done anything like this before," he admitted. The idea of going to any kind of spa, or salon, or beauty parlor, just seemed downright ludicrous. He never had imagined himself going to one. It was an event that had all the illogicality of a paradox to him. But now that he was here... "Oh... I don't even know how to describe it. It's just so... mmm..."

A soft laugh came from satisfied mare. "You see?" she said in triumph, "It's not all... tearing your hair out and spraying diluted dragon's breath."

He had no response except to hum indulgently again. When she had first suggested that he accompany her to the spa, every last inch of him, especially his already 'abused' hair, had been ready to reject her offer. The caveat that had turned it all around came when he realized that, if he had left the boutique then and there, he would have had nowhere to go except to either wander the streets alone amongst the evasive townsponies again or head back to the library to confront Twilight. It had given him enough pause that he had tentatively agreed to go with the dressmaker. Somewhere inside he had planned to resolve his internal dispute and then find the right excuse to escape before they got there. But somehow all that had fallen apart and in the blink of an eye he had found himself head deep in spa business... and he was almost disturbed by how much he liked it.

"Lotus!" Rarity called out, "if you please, I could really use the expert touch of your hooves. Daylight Daffodil would be lovely, I think."

The azure spa pony who helped run the establishment stepped forward. "Certainly, Miss Rarity," she obeyed, retrieving a golden colored bottle from a large collection that sat on a shelf. She squeezed a fragrant syrup into Rarity's sink and then dug her hooves in, working the contented seamstress' hair in a delicate massage.

"Sir, would you also like a massage?" Aloe, the other spa pony, asked of James.

Sunk deep into a state of relaxation, he had a hard time gathering his thoughts for an answer. It was perhaps a bit too much to say he WANTED a hair massage but he wasn't able to predict anymore whether he would LIKE one or not. "Sure, I guess," he lightly replied.

"Is there any particular scent you would care for?" Aloe inquired. "We have many excellent choices for the discerning customer. Royal Rosarium? Daylight Daffodil or Lunar Lilac? Sunkissed Spring? The seasonally popular Beehive Honeydew Ballistic Blitz?"

"Surprise me." The words airily drifted out of his mouth.

"Very well, sir," the spa pony answered with a wink. She chose her personal favorite out of the collection, added it to his sink, and got to work.

Time drifted on, eventually floating out of all meaning. The gentle tugging at his hair, the warm licks of the water; they erased any concern he had, no matter how trivial. They stole away all sense of present, eroding away the fears and worries of the now, and every last string of tension faded into nothing. Even in the deepest parts of his mind he barely heard himself wonder about what made this encounter different such that the spa ponies didn't seem put off by him. No odd stares or dodgy behaviors. Even the more obvious question had no voice: how the heck they were even doing anything in the sinks without fingers?

Peeking out of the corner of her eye, Rarity looked James over. The semblance of serenity that he bore was quite familiar to her, and she smiled smugly to herself. "Things looked terrible at first but with some dedication, effort, and a brave leap into something new, it's turned around," she told him. "Some more work and management here and there, and you can have a mane that looks positively fabulous!"

"Well... I don't... know...," he said, his words dribbling out inattentively. After a hushed moment he snapped into focus for just an instant. "... you really think so?" he asked honestly.

"Absolutely!" Rarity responded with certainty.

Somewhere in the front of the spa a service bell rang. The spa ponies exchanged glances before Lotus Blossom politely excused herself and departed. All fell back to the restful sounds of swishing water and mellow sighs. In a short few minutes however, Lotus Blossom returned with another mare following her.

There was a wispy gasp, and in a voice of kindly, controlled excitement the new mare quietly shouted, "Oh my! Hello!"

"Hello, Fluttershy, darling! So delighted to bump into you!" Rarity greeted. She raised a hoof in welcome, keeping her head down to avoid disturbing her hair.

"It's good to see you too, Rarity," the pegasus happily returned. She caught sight of the other spa guest and welcomingly greeted him, "Hello, James. It's good to see you again."

He had no intention of blocking her out but he was reluctant to abandon the peaceful state of his soothing treatment. It was a struggle to even push out a jumbled response of, "Hi... uh, yeah... ditto."

Fluttershy was directed to a nearby spa bed which she sat herself down upon, happy to wait until the spa ponies were ready for her and allowing Lotus Blossom to return to Rarity. In the meantime, she remarked to the man, "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Oh. Well... you know...," he spoke, but again the aura of relaxation pried open the grip he had on his words. They dropped out of him like stray embers, swiftly fading.

"I don't know," Fluttershy directly answered.

Pulling his fragmented concentration together, James dragged himself back to full waking consciousness. The rest of the room bled into his awareness and after a few seconds he was finally lucid enough to explain, "I was out for a walk and ripped my clothes so I went to Rarity to get it fixed and she invited my here. So... now I'm here."

"Oh, I see," Fluttershy understood. Then, in the most considerate tone imaginable, she said, "I'm sorry I haven't seen much of you since the party."

"It's no... I mean, that's me. I've just been sticking to the library a lot," James clarified.

"Oh," the pegasus merrily accepted.

There was a short, silent interlude where again the gentle work of the spa ponies was the only sound. James tried to settle himself back into the restful paradise he had been roused from but, although he still felt relaxed and at ease, it didn't return. There was a strange void inside; some forgotten responsibility that kept his rest from being completely restored. Something that he needed to accomplish tugged at him from unseen shadows. Then, like a distant, familiar bell, Rarity's words came chiming back to him; an echo of her inquiry into his own well-being: "it's the polite thing to do."

"How have you been?" he asked Fluttershy.

"Very well, thank you," she replied sweetly. "Things have been oh so much better since we took care of all the animals who were hurt in that awful disaster at the edge of the Everfree Forest." Her voice never dipped in remorse and her poise never slouched with sadness. The crisis that had driven her to fatigue in body and spirit was fully in her past; she hadn't changed one bit since James last saw her. "It's been so wonderful, actually. I've been keeping up with my new animals friends in the forest and they've all been doing so well," she crooned with a simple smile.

The details of the forest catastrophe came back to him but he didn't feel as troubled by the issues of the past as he used to. Perhaps he was being guarded by the tranquility of his spa treatment. "Great to hear," he said, falling in line with her joy. "So, I guess you got all the animals resettled then? Even Rocky and his parents?" He fondly recalled the adorable little flying squirrel that he had briefly watched over. After all the years of growing up with a pet it was hard to let go of the quick emotional attachments that came with small fuzzy critters. It was also one of the more satisfying experiences he remembered having since coming to Equestria.

"Oh my goodness, yes!" Fluttershy brightly answered. She was especially perky at the young squirrel's mention and her enthusiasm flowed out with her words, "And little Rocky is worlds better! He and his parents live in just the most delightfully charming hollow, and he's out and about, and oh how he skips and hops and glides! You should come by the cottage sometime and I'll take you out to see him! I think he'd love to see you again!"

"I'd be surprised if he even remembers me. It was one day," James reflected.

"I'm sure he does remember!" the cheery pegasus insisted. "I've caught him trying to brag to the other animals about his 'big friend.'" She held back a giggle, almost overwhelmed by the tiny squirrel's bold cuteness.

James chuckled, also touched by the endearing sounding antics, but the pegasus' short anecdote produced a twinge of oddness which ran through him like a jogging fish. Inside, he almost felt... that he didn't want to see the squirrel again. There was no animosity; no regret; no hidden grievances, malice, or resentment. But... wouldn't it be a bit much to make and execute the plans to get out there? For a squirrel that he had met once? He just didn't feel good about getting started on all that. Not that he was supremely busy or anything. Perhaps it was that he already felt up to his neck in trying to get along with all these new ponies. Ignoring Rocky was one less interaction to deal with, and it also left his memory of the squirrel on the pure, happy note it ended at; unsullied. "Maybe sometime I guess," he said lowly without commitment.

Fluttershy withdrew from that line of discussion without complaint. Her chipper mood seemed completely unaffected by his disaffected remark and, after a brief pause, she picked up a new thought and asked, "Did you get that tea I sent?"

"Hm? Oh! Yeah!" he remembered. Several days ago Twilight had returned to the library in the afternoon with a small carton of tea bags which she said were from Fluttershy. "The... jasmine peach stuff, right? I've been having it in the afternoons. I like it better than the raspberry. I was a little confused as to why you sent it?" he elaborated. Then in haste he put out a quick and honest, "Thanks, regardless."

"Oh, you're very welcome. I had plenty extra and I noticed how much you enjoyed the raspberry tea before, so I thought I might send some. I was hoping you would like it," she casually explained.

"Ah. Well, I do like it," he told her appreciatively. "That's another thing I'm surprised by. I always used to hate tea."

His comment genuinely surprised Fluttershy, since he seemed so plainly to enjoy the first tea she had given him. "Why?" she asked.

"I have no idea. My mom would drink it and I guess I must have tried it once as a kid and decided all tea was bad," speculated James. Any distinct instance of such an event was beyond his recall but he did remember the years and years of squeamishly looking at his mother sipping tea before would he get out water, juice, or something else for himself to drink.

Rarity let up a laugh mingled with a disbelieving huff. "As a foal? Tastes change, dear!" She laughed again. "Like the popular fashions changing with the seasons, you have to look around and keep up."

"Tastes can change, sure, but they don't change like that," he argued back. Personal preferences as fads, being beholden to some outside social force, just sounded ridiculous.

"Well, I understand," Fluttershy said, partially withdrawn. "But we all change in little bits over time. I think it can be good to give some things a second chance. Who knows what you'll find?" The pegasus stared off wistfully as she spoke, keeping the personal experiences that influenced her feelings unmentioned. Her eyes came back into the moment and she added, "Or really it can be good even to just explore and search for new experiences from time to time. I've been raising so many creatures and critters for a long, long time but now and again I'm still surprised by the different things I find to be charming in my animal friends."

"I guess I don't get the point?" James complained. "Like, the tea is nice, I'm glad I tried it and all, but I'd still be the same person even if I never found that out. Why go to all the trouble of doing millions of different things to desperately search for stuff I COULD like when I already know what I DO like?" He turned it all over in his head again but nothing changed. His short lifetime had let him stumble upon plenty of natural interests. Digging up even more would almost diminish the ones he had, in a way. Like spreading the cream cheese on a bagel too thin. Plainly he opined, "It's not a big deal if I don't find out about everything I could like. And as for anything I don't like... sure it's fair to give those things an honest few go's in the beginning, but then that's it. It just seems especially stupid to do the same thing over and over again thinking, 'well maybe I'll like it this time.'"

"My gracious, you don't need to beat your skull against something, like a dunderheaded cavepony hoping to get it," Rarity expressed with a bit of a snicker. "Sometimes you don't need anything more than just seeing a different perspective on everything. After all, it's truly about expanding your horizons, or improving yourself, or being more cultured, or getting a taste of the different things life has to offer." All of her different dreams ran through her mind: all the places she intended to visit one day, all the celebrities she planned to meet, and all the many things on her infinitely expanding bucket list that she would surely get to sooner or later.

"I think it's about growing," Fluttershy stated tenderly. The thoughts that came to her were wholesome and homely. Memories moved through her head with the familiar feel of the sun rolling through the sky, and she picked and chose her words deliberately, "I know it's a big deal when you get your cutie mark and you realize something incredibly important about yourself inside, but we all still have more learning and growing to do even after that. I don't know if anypony ever makes the same big kind of discovery again... but every new thing that gets tried is another chance to discover more about yourself."

Something about this described maturing process didn't sit right with James. "Getting a hobby isn't how you grow up. I mean, I guess it's part of how you learn to express yourself and everything. You come across things that you get attached to... or just of kind of get attached to you," he rambled. It was hard to deny that collecting different experiences was part of expanding oneself as a person. But that was just one of many starting points. The experiences in life he had sought out (or had fallen backwards into) fit into the puzzle of growth just as much as all the people and communities he had met, or the different emotions he had felt. "Learning what you can do is just... a part of it. Growing up is this whole big complicated process that you can't boil down into... getting a tattoo and trying some new things.

"And besides, what would that even matter anymore? I already grew up. And growing up once was enough." It was sort of like an open-ended project: for it to be called complete, at some point it has to be cut it off or it will carry on forever. "There comes a time when you've got to stop learning, and start doing. Move on. Carry forward with everything you've learned and live life."

"Oh no," Fluttershy said, softly wagging her head. "What I meant to say was, you never stop growing. Or, you should never stop wanting to grow. It's important to take some time to work on yourself."

But again he rejected her view. "Time... there's already too much to do and not enough time to do it with. If you want to get anything done in life, you have to stick to the things you know," he griped.

"Pish posh!" interjected Rarity. "Some days do get very busy but one who never has time for themself needs to revise their time management skills." She reviewed James again, leering at him through the corner of her vision, and she critically told him, "Besides, right now your extended residency at the library cannot be that time consuming. I think you have the room to experiment a little."

James halfheartedly accepted, "Yeah, I have to sort of figure out what to do with myself," but he turned stern and continued, "but it's not the time to just start going wild trying new things. This is... an inside time for me."

But Rarity amusedly scoffed again. "Yet here you are. Sipping tea and having your mane professionally cared for, like a gentlecolt of more refined tastes. Is that so bad?"

The accusation unnerved him. The calming effect of the spa treatment started to fade and he shuffled uncomfortably where he laid. "Well, I probably won't be coming back again or anything," he declared.

Aloe, who had been all but invisible with her silence, suddenly ceased her massage and leaned over him, worried. "I'm sorry, sir. Have we not performed to your satisfaction?" The fear of doing a disreputable job was so great that she actually began to tremble.

"What? No, no, no, it's not that. This has been phenomenal," James embarrassingly tried to correct his faux pas. Because of their incredibly diligent and professional demeanor he had basically forgotten that the spa ponies were still in the room, let alone still actively working on applying the treatments. "There's been nothing wrong with the spa. I just... I'm not... a spa person. This isn't what I do."

Fluttershy's eyebrows twitched in confusion. "But... you like it, don't you?"

"I do... but that's not...," James tried to respond.

"You're not making any sense, dear," Rarity said. "Don't be like one of those silly stallions who can't stand to be seen caring about their own appearance. Own your beauty!"

"You don't want to be seen here?" Fluttershy extrapolated, trying hard to grasp his concern.

"I don't care," professed James. He didn't really know any of the ponies in this town. What reputation was there to defend? Actually, given how they all acted about it, especially Rarity's casual invitation for him to come along in the first place, it wouldn't even be defending anything to begin with because no pony would care. Just another spa customer coming through. But he really didn't care about coming back. It had been great; calming, relaxing, and soothing. And in some small, secret place it was at least amusing to maybe think about what can be done with his hair. But he just didn't care. His hair before was okay by his standards and he couldn't fathom putting in the upkeep needed to change it. To set up trips to the spa as some kind of regular thing just wasn't who he saw himself as. "I don't care," he repeated in a quieter tone.

The pegasus' eyes lowered and she whispered to herself in consideration, "You like it, but you don't care about it?" Her low mumbling went on for a brief moment before she stared back at him with a faint, questioning twist of her head. "Do you want to NOT like it?"

Chapter 6: Self

There was a deep silence as James stared at the ceiling. The question was terribly off-putting. "Do you want to NOT like it?" Fluttershy had asked, and his every innate fiber said it was a ridiculous question to even pose. Absurd in every conceivable way. Who would want to actively NOT like something that they enjoyed experiencing? But the question being ridiculous didn't answer why he had been getting increasingly uncomfortable with the many queries these ponies had been pushing onto him. Its absurdity didn't give him a secure feeling like soundly reasoned feelings would or supply him with the understanding as to why his mind couldn't even picture him indulging in a spa experience more regularly. So... perhaps in some place he wasn't aware of... did he want to NOT like it?

Was it embarrassment? It was strange to think of wanting to NOT like something but it was less unusual to be embarrassed by a guilty pleasure. Maybe he had been ashamed that he had enjoyed the relaxing atmosphere? Ashamed that he had felt warm and safe in the calming aura that the spa ponies had created with their impeccable and professional service? Ashamed by his bemused indulgence in the delicate attention given to his otherwise disregarded hair? But no... that explanation didn't feel right either. Even when his plans to escape from Rarity before reaching the spa had fallen apart he hadn't felt like he was embroiled in a true problem. There wasn't a part of him that had stood stalwart against entering the establishment, or had forged ironclad objections against laying down on the service bed, or had unflinchingly resisted letting his hair get dipped in their sink. All of these actions weren't things he had agreed to comfortably but riding out some discomfort had usually never been a big deal for him; at least for things he couldn't work up a passion for, like his hair.

Actually, it was only after he had noticed how much he was enjoying the experience that he had started to become bothered. Could it be that he had been more unsettled by not having been able to predict himself accurately? He had never seen himself as a spa person and had naturally assumed he would find no engagement in it at all. The degree to which he had found solace and pleasure in the whole event was a curve ball to his personality. That thought felt right to him: the unknown disturbance was that heavy, awkward feeling of being surprised by himself. He had always been a bit of sure-footed fellow, generally confident in himself, and confident in knowing where he stood. Rattling that was what had upset him.

Indeed, his hair hardly factored into it. Even after having enjoyed the spa treatment, he STILL didn't care about his hair. The absolute best thoughts he could summon up about it where ones of light frivolity and silly speculation; amusing diversions conjured up to pass the time. Nothing within him could call forth the dedication to care about or take his hair as seriously as these ponies had suggested he could. Maybe they had been right in that, if he really, REALLY tried, he could one day build it up as a passionate pursuit... but in this time and place, it didn't matter to him.

He brought his consciousness back to his surroundings and answered Fluttershy, "Again, I don't care. I don't care if I like it or not. It's not important to me."

"But maybe you'd feel differently if you gave it an honest try?" she politely objected. "Instead of just dismissing it out of hoof? How would you ever really know if you don't try?"

"I wouldn't know. But I'm fine with that because, again, I don't care," James steadily replied. The shaky uncertainty ebbed away and he was sure of himself once more. "Like, I don't feel strongly about it one way OR the other. Can't work up any kind of passion in either direction for it. There's going to be lots of things in my life I'll never know. That's just reality. Got to live with it. And I'm A-okay with hair styling being one of those unknown things."

"Oh," the surprised pegasus let up. Her face drifted thoughtfully, absorbing his opinion as she might memorize a long string of numbers. "But... don't you ever wonder...?" she asked in a dwindling voice.

His hand rose up, offering its own tiny shrug. "Not really," he stated, "and personally, I don't think I'm the worse for it. I can lose so much time boggling over 'what if' that I'd never to get to 'what is.'"

"But there's so much that you'll miss if-" Rarity started.

"No, no, it goes either way!" James tried to explain. "If I throw myself at the 'could's and 'should's then that's less of me I can give to the 'am's and 'are's! Either way, I'm still missing things!" It was the same difference between trying a thousand things one time and doing one thing a thousand times. There's a thousand exercises in either case, and while one case certainly casts a very wide net, it will never come close to probing the depths that the other case would.

A hearty slurping rose up around him. The thirsty guzzling of the sink's drain briefly plugged his ears as he felt the water swish away. He pushed his eyes up as far as he could and just managed to see Aloe drop a towel down upon his sopping hair. Somehow her hooves were able to get the towel mostly around his hair, and then with a firm nudge and light encouragement she sat him up.

While the spa pony got to work rubbing away with the towel, drying his hair, James was able to use his new sitting position to get a fresh look at the ponies he had been conversing with. Rarity's treatment was continuing along just the same as his was, with Lotus Blossom dexterously yet tenderly wiping a towel about her washed mane, and Fluttershy still sat with an unlimited patience. But there was a quiet, nearly hidden pensiveness about them; revealed only by how clearly they were trying to grapple with what he was saying. In muted bewilderment, they toiled to try and see with his eyes.

Lowering his voice, he announced to them, "You've been talking like... I'm an enigma, even to myself... and I have to figure myself out and puzzle myself together, but that's not really how it is. I define myself. I get to pick what I want to be, and I can work and strive towards that. And maybe I'll be surprised by things from time to time, and I can certainly take them for what they are, but go too far and they're distractions from what I want to make of myself first."

"I suppose I can understand wanting to carve your own path," Rarity whimsically accepted, no stranger to a self-applied destiny, "but to do that you need to be searching around for what speaks to you. Don't you want to understand what is possible with your hair? What you can do with it and where it can take you?"

"No. Regardless of if that's good or bad for me, no. Through my hair is not how I define myself. It's not how I want to define myself," he insisted.

Aloe and Lotus Blossom pulled the towels off of the now mostly dry heads of their clients. After a quick inspection, the spa ponies grabbed hairbrushes and silently set to work.

"You don't have any desire to improve yourself?" Rarity questioned with a skeptical suspicion.

"No, I didn't say that," corrected James. "I said... it's on me to choose in which directions I want to improve myself. Not just... blindly stumble into betterment." He pondered aloud, "Besides, couldn't you really make that kind of claim about everything and anything at all? I mean, I can sink myself into hair styling... but then what about painting? Or athletics? Or studying history? Or dancing? Anything that is, even remotely, a pursuit could be a possible road to self-improvement. Can't take every road... have to pick the ones I want."

The colorful marks emblazoned on the ponies flanks suddenly jumped out at him. In Twilight's books, and from the unicorn herself, he had learned about the special nature of these marks. Recalling the details of Rarity's and Fluttershy's daily labors, he pointed to each of the ponies in turn and said, "It's great that you two can work your passions so completely into your own lives, making dresses and taking care of animals and everything, but it's not always like that. Not everyone gets so much time for themselves. We all have responsibilities and obligations, and sometimes they're things that draw us away from what we want or who we are... responsibilities we MUST meet first before we can do anything for ourselves." And that was the solid truth to him. What value was a person who fulfilled their dreams to the fullest but NEVER had any responsibility to anyone? It would be like a new parent who, finally receiving the child they had always wanted, then chose to completely continue with their old life and their own pursuits over caring for that child. The self doesn't have to completely disappear... but the child, the responsibility, should always comes first.

Resolutely he told them, "There's an order to things: I step up and meet my responsibilities first, and then with any time I have left, if there are passions and interests that I want to run with... then I can pursue those deeply." He shook his head, "This idea that I can just live my life infinitely learning and figuring myself out doesn't make any sense. At the end of my days, what would even be the point? That I did a lot of different things and stuck to nothing?"

Completing their brushwork, the spa ponies exchanged their hairbrushes for intricately carved hand (mouth?) mirrors and came about to show their respective clients the final results of the treatment. James wasn't dragged out of the conversation by catching his reflection but he was still partially arrested by the change he saw; the new shine and smoothness that radiated from his hair.

"I don't mean to put too fine a point on it," Rarity slowly engaged him as she analyzed her own hair through Lotus' mirror, "but as I previously mentioned, your responsibilities don't seem to be as weighty as they might have been... uh... before you came here." Again the whole business of his arrival seemed to make her nervous. Though in this case it was that she felt prodding his old life might be something potentially very sensitive. Refocusing herself, she continued, "I believe now you do have the time to at least be a little more experimental in your pursuits."

Dismissing Aloe with a nod of approval, James then faced Rarity and grimaced ever so slightly. "You'd think, but no. Now is a time for me..." His voice just surrendered, falling away. "A time for... for me..." What was he even doing? The darkness of foggy thought shrouded his perception and all sense of foresight dimmed. "I just have to figure some things out right now, okay?" he abruptly explained.

Fluttershy didn't appear to be bothered by his veiled agitation or his general resistance to their ideas. With a simple directness, she stated, "I just think it would be a shame to let something go that you might really like. Especially now that you know you at least enjoy it a little bit."

"It is what it is, I guess," James uttered. "It's a shame to lose each of those infinite things that I could maybe enjoy... but like I said, no matter what I do I'm inevitably going to have choose some of those shames. Can't have it all. It's what I want; it's who I want to be."

"The real shame is the dazzling mane that could be, if only the necessary undying diligence and proper primping were applied," sighed Rarity. She brought her eyes about him, inspecting and scrutinizing him, and as ever she saw the infinite possibilities crawling out of her imagination. But once more the sprouting buds of potential had been squashed by his goals not aligning with hers. Not altogether content but still lightly amused, she quipped, "It doesn't seem like I'll ever get to finish any project that I start with you, does it?"

He realized what it had come to again, despite it not being a project he had even asked for this time. Like before though, it seemed that was just how it had to be; better to stand for himself in this matter. "Sorry again," he weakly laughed, "but some day we'll figure something out, I think. Just not today." It was reassuring that she wasn't taking it personally (again), but he found it difficult not to feel exploitive about the whole affair anyway (again.) Whatever good intentions he had were always being cut off by something else. That part of himself which was dedicated to responsibility wanted to balance it out eventually. Maybe if he...

"You know...," James began tentatively, before he drew a breath and persisted more securely, "I'll acknowledge not putting anything into my hair. Figuratively and literally. But... I do already wash it, and it's not much to throw a little something extra in there. So, tell you what: if you've got some kind of special shampoo or whatever that you think will help, I'll submit to using it when I wash my hair." He reached his hand out, palm up, in offering. The offer was a small act, light in comparison to what was owed, but it was a start. Besides, the simplicity and low maintenance of it meant that he wasn't truly compromising himself; he still didn't care about his hair. What's more, he knew that because he wouldn't be burdened excessively by it he was avoiding the risk of being unable to reliably stick to it. It was what it was meant to be: a small kindness to Rarity in order to repay some of her generosity. "I'll just file it as one of my responsibilities."

"Hmm...," the mare hummed while perking up. She withdrew into thought for a moment before she beckoned the spa ponies to her side for a serious meeting of the minds.

James and Fluttershy exchanged curious looks as the great hair summit passed about rapid, hushed words, with only a few of the utterances escaping to outside listening ears: "... deal with the frizz...", "... no, that's much too strong...", "... if we paired it with...", "... too long to set, he'll never...", "... is that even safe? ...", "... if he keeps away from fire..."

"Right then!" Rarity announced as the huddled ponies suddenly disbanded. The two spa ponies went and opened a large cabinet which stocked substances of all brands and varieties in ample supply. "I believe we have something you can use," Rarity continued. "Now, to be most effective you'll want to soak your hair in lukewarm water for a half-hour first. The water should be no hotter than-"

"Rarity," James prompted her with caution.

"Ahem, yes," the restrained unicorn coughed with embarrassed resignation. "Just... use only one of them a day when you wash your hair, rotating each day. No more than a small dollop. And brush afterwards," she instructed.

At the same time, Aloe approached him holding a bag which had two specifically chosen bottles in it. Receiving the bag from her, James poked his fingers inside and swiped a glance at the items he had been given. They certainly reminded him of every other bottle of overly fancy haircare garbage he had ever seen, and he couldn't make heads or tails of the various accentuated labels. But overall it didn't seem that unmanageable. "Alright. Sounds simple enough. Thanks. Again," he said gratefully.

"Are you sure we won't see you here at least a little bit?" Fluttershy asked with distant hopefulness. She quickly injected an overflowing humility into her words, "Not that I'm trying to get you to change your mind or anything, just, Rarity and I meet here a lot and you're more than welcome to join us any time you like."

"Thanks. Not anytime soon, though," James replied. Later, he told himself. Figure it all out later. Thoughts of making more trips to the spa were just so far from his mind right now. Still unable to see himself as a spa person, still not caring to make himself into one, he could at least admit that he did enjoy his one treatment here... so maybe one day, later, he could make a rare visit. Sometime in the future when he'd be more comfortable just relaxing.

Again having nearly forgotten that Lotus and Aloe were still in the room, he turned to them with an extra gracious bow, "Not that it hasn't been fantastic. Better than I ever imagined. Just not the thing for me right now."

He started to run his fingers through his hair, as was his unconscious habit, but he immediately noted the change in texture. He pulled a few hairs in front of his eyes and twiddled them in his fingers. Weird. But acceptable. After all, it didn't particularly matter what became of his hair. Being different didn't make it any more important. He was certain.

And all that fresh confidence which he had gained from reflecting on himself still coursed through him. A powerful readiness pulsed with each beat of his heart. In that moment, he felt he could face Twilight again. Now he knew that, when he confronted her, he wouldn't resent the spirit of what she had tried to do and that he'd be able to make clear to her that he was going to deal with his own matters in his own way. It was time to tell her to just keep giving him space.

"I suppose I should head back to the library now," he said to the others. "It's starting to get pretty late in the day, I think."

Rarity looked as if she going to invite him to stay longer, perhaps for another treatment or just for idle conversation, but she immediately recognized the futility in the gesture. Not otherwise discouraged, she instead pleasantly said, "Very well, then. It was still a pleasure to have you come on by, dear. Don't feel you need to have an excuse to come by the boutique in the future."

Fluttershy seemed to have reached the same acceptance as Rarity. As Aloe began to prepare the pegasus' treatment, the quiet mare eagerly agreed with dressmaker, "Oh, yes. Do feel free to come by the cottage whenever you like."

"Thanks. We'll see," James told them, trying to be as positive towards the ponies as he could. Later, he told himself again. All these things can be looked at, thought about, or done later.

"Lotus," Rarity called, "his service can be on my bill."

"I-" James nearly interrupted.

The determined seamstress looked back at him knowingly and he relented. He had earlier straight up admitted to not having any money. Really, there was no other way this could have ended and he should have realized that before going in. Leaning in a bit, she whispered over to him, "But just this once! When those bottles run dry, I expect you to pick up the next set."

"I'll gladly figure something out," he answered. After all, if he didn't discover some way to turn it around, this generosity debt was just going to dig deeper and deeper until it hit... whatever colloquialism fills in for China in these parts.

With everything set, he thanked the spa ponies (once more assuring them of their fine work) and bade the others goodbye. They all returned his parting wishes, in respective customer friendly and plain old friendly formats. But as he started to walk out, his free-flowing hair tickled the lower back of his neck. He stopped to ask, "Does anybody have something I could tie this back with? I don't remember what happened to my rubber band."

"Here, sir," Aloe responded, seizing a small scrunchie from an open bin choked with them. It's fluffy fabric was a strong green, not all that different from his shirt, and it was dusted in a sparkling blue glitter. She held it out for him. "Take it. Perhaps you'll find the time to come back and return it?" she said with a wink and a smile.

It wasn't exactly his style but that would have been a trite thing to complain about now. He thanked her again and fit the scrunchie around the fingers on his right hand, opening it up so he could put it on.

When Aloe saw what he was doing, she warned, "Oh, you'll want to leave your hair loose for about an hour, so your treatment can be most effective."

"Ah," he replied, pocketing the scrunchie.

Once more there was a round of goodbyes and then he departed.

Emerging outside the spa, he saw immediately how much time had passed. Ponyville was moving on with its day quite rapidly, and the slow relaxation of the spa venture had deceptively hidden how fast the rest of time was ticking. Looking down the streets surrounding the spa, he resolved that it was time for him to fall back into pace.

Before he started, his hand lingered in his pocket. He raked his teeth lightly across his lips with an undecided moan. Then, with careless frustration, he yielded to a great sigh, withdrew the scrunchie, pulled back his hair, and put it on.

The golden hue of the horizon deepened as the sun wearily pushed itself towards the end of its daily journey. Evening was approaching, faster and faster it felt, and the start of sunset wasn't far off. Probably within the hour, by James' reasonable estimate. He wasn't sure which roads would be the most direct path back to the library but he had a rough guess of the direction his destination was in, so he had been ambling down the roads that way, sure that he would stumble upon something familiar enough to guide him.

Despite many things, the whole experience at the spa had left him feeling spectacularly better. It was a buoyant rush of self-confidence, a firm laying of the compass over a previously perplexing map, and just a dash of delighted amusement at having his hair refreshed. He walked differently down the streets, his feet bouncing lightly off the cobble roads, and he gave an airy swing to each arm. He was still embroiled in his own thoughts but everything seemed to come at him more directly and clearly. Regardless, his inward focus cut his attention in half and he wasn't fully aware of everything going on about him.

"Oh! Pardon!" a passing mare said courteously in surprise. Whoever she was, her day had left her equally contemplative and she had nearly crashed into him during her own inattentive meandering.

"Oh, no, sorry," James instinctively responded, making space for her to pass. She walked by while giving a pleasant bow to him and he nodded back.

But, as she went, it caught up to him. That was different. He gazed about. Several ponies were walking up and down the street, returning home from wherever their day had taken them, or perhaps heading out for a late visit to here or there. But they passed much physically closer to him than they ever had before. He was all but wading through them, if they had been the midday river instead of the early evening trickle. Now suddenly aware of them all, a guarded seclusion snuck back into him. His stance changed slightly, becoming more edgy and defensive. And the ponies who moved about him, almost as if in response, started to awkwardly slow down a tiny bit and nervously shimmied slightly out of the way, making that much more room for him to pass.

Trying to forget it, he carried on, walking down the roads in not quite the same fashion as before. Eventually a street which matched his memory surfaced and he proceeded along it, now certain which way would take him to the library.

His journey suffered another interruption when he recognized a giggling voice that rose up from the side of the street. It came buzzing through air like a giddy, drunken bee. Off to his left, a small court filled with simple tables was set in front of an inviting ice cream shop, and sitting at one of the tables was an easily identifiable pink pony who was playfully licking away at a cone which rested before her. In fact, she had a whole assortment of ice cream cones on her table. They were in waves of different colors, with swirls or chunks, peppered with sprinkles or crumbles; an eclectic menagerie of different flavors. As different ponies walked by the shop, she would call out to them by name and freely offer them their choice of ice cream from her collection.

Pinkie Pie immediately caught sight of James staring at her. With a tremendous wave she gleefully called out to him, "Heeeeeeeeey! Hey hey, James! Want some ice cream?"

He was ready to go back to the library... but quite suddenly he felt that he needn't be in a rush either. Nothing wrong with a short distraction. Approaching the gregarious pony, he leaned his chest against the low wall which separated the street from the shop's court and rested his arms upon the fixture. "No thanks," he graciously declined. "I haven't had dinner yet and I don't want to get in the habit of snacking before a meal."

"Okie dokie lokie!" she delightfully accepted, before driving her muzzle in for another go at her own cold treat. With melting, sloppy vanilla still dripping from her lips, she followed up, "How ya been, you hidey horseshoe?"

"I've been fine. A lot of staying tucked away in the library is all," he said.

"Ooooooo," she sang in the instant before gobbling down the rest of her cone. Peeking about, she did a quick check for any other pony to share some of her horde with, but no others were in range. With the delicious prize all to herself, she grabbed another cone from the collection so she could begin to snack anew.

Her licking and munching was so deliriously happy that her question seemed to come out of nowhere and hit James like a sucker punch. "Are you feeling better?" she asked in her unique, upbeat tone.

"Better?" He was feeling better but that was sort of besides the point. He had barely seen her since the party two weeks ago so what was she referencing exactly? "Better compared to...?" he asked.

"Before, silly!" Pinkie rolled her eyes around like a coin going down a funnel. "When you were all, 'Oh, I don't sing' and 'Oh, I don't play games' and 'Oh, I don't dance.'" Her voice rose and fell like a see-saw in her mimicry.

"Oh!" he sighed with relief. Shifting his weight to lean on the wall more comfortably, he explained, "No, that's just... me not being an extroverted party person. Usually. I'm more-"

"I know," she interjected in an odd, peppy moan. Her lips pursed and she waved her head with disbelief, saying, "You like quiet parties." She spat it out like one would dismiss a discredited myth. It was like... a burning ice cube. Or a dry bath. Or awful candy. Her whole body started to wiggle, an uncontrollable energy building towards an explosion somewhere inside her, and she rambled, "But you can't be hush hush all the time! What about when you're shaking inside and your legs won't sit still and you feel the jitters and jabbers and you just got to move move move? What about when you're all twisted up and everything's tingling and you just can't hold it in and have to let it out and SCREEEAAAMMM!" Her excited shriek was so regular that it didn't seem to draw any attention; not from other shop patrons, nor from passers-by, nor from windows.

James raised his eyebrow slightly, marveled by her dramatic outgoingness but willing to accept it for what it was. Nonetheless, he acknowledged the overly excitable pony's words and said, "You have a point and everything. We take a lot in... so it's only healthy sometimes to let things out instead. I don't know if-"

But before he could get any mileage on his next sentence, stars came to Pinkie's eyes, her ice cream trove suddenly lost all value, and she leapt from her seat. Nearly crashing into the short wall, she rammed her forelegs upon it so she could place her face right up to his. "Ooo," she hummed giddily, "let's do something then! Let's have some fun!"

"Well, hold on now," James tried to object, "I can have plenty of fun and loosen up without getting crazy. But, more importantly, I'm looking to be a little more..." He paused. Don't say 'alone.' It's such a negative word and it would invite questions. "... quiet and inside? Yeah. Just trying to be more subdued and slow right now."

"Aw, nothing crazy about singing a song! You do like to sing, right?" Her eager eyes pressed closer.

"Not often... but I guess in general, yes," he admitted very reluctantly, "but I'm not in the mood. And this isn't the place for it."

"Why not?" she blindly asked.

"It's... it's a public place. It'd be a nuisance." It was like every time he felt that she was only putting on her highly effervescent personality as a mask, she went and crossed three lines into absurdity.

"Oh, nopony'll mind. Here," she countered. Looking out over him, she called out to a mare who was strolling down the far side of the street, "Hey Laceyloom! Is it okay if I sing?"

"Oh, sure! Don't mind me!" the mare cordially shouted back.

"See?" Pinkie Pie proudly pointed.

"Okay, so, that's not a concern then (for some reason), but still, I'm not in the mood," he said.

She scrunched her face with lightning consideration and then proposed, "Aw, okay. How about I sing, and then if that gets you in the mood you can sing!" Her words were more suggestion than question, fueled by a relentless, unstoppable intensity. "I think I know just the song for you!"

"You... could sing, I guess? But I'm-"

But despite his words, Pinkie Pie bounced backwards and then bounded up onto the table with her ice cream cone collection. Miraculously, there wasn't a single tipped cone as she started to swing, and swish, and stamp her legs among them in a simple dance. Lifting and dipping, churning and turning, her movement seemed to invoke a strange, soundless rhythm in the air. Then she opened her mouth and her voice swam out clear and pure. Her song itself danced, and though they were just words, it was as if chime and bell, fiddle and flute, horn and drum all came with her as she sang:

Each day - the golden sun rises
Each day - you'll face some surprises
Wanna look up - gotta face down
Troubles come in - enough to drown
Today - is just like yesterday
One more - sad march about the town
Making - your own lone muddled way
But don't - you show no crooked frown

You just smile
Like a crocodile
Don't shed a tear
Your friends are near
If it's not clear
Your friends are near

Sometimes - you don't know how to start
Something - missing inside your heart
Each time you look - your problem's grown
And every step - you step alone
Tomor - row's looking more the same
Anoth - er day just like you've known
Don't let - your eyes hide your sad shame
With us - you'll trot not on your own

You just laugh
Like a glad giraffe
Don't feel that fear
Your friends are near
We'll find your cheer
Your friends are near

It will be much easier when we're on your side
No matter what you're facing we're in for the ride

You just sing
Like the rain in spring
And we'll be here
To lend an ear
Your friends are near
Yes we'll be here
All through the year
Your friends are near
Your friends are near

Her singing and dancing brought her back to the wall which James rested against, eventually climbing upon it, and as she closed out her tune she looked to him expectantly and held out an inviting hoof, "Now you sing!"

No

Even James' denial seemed to have a bizarre harmony to it. He pushed off the wall and stood straight, shaking the music out of his head. "Sorry. Still not in the mood," he apologized. Not wanting her gesture to feel worthless, he added, "That was a nice song, though."

"Oh, gooey gumdrops!" Pinkie Pie swore. "I really thought that would do it!"

"Get me to sing?" he asked for clarification.

"Ya-huh," she confirmed. Edging in closer and nearly toppling off the wall, she covered one side of her mouth with a hoof and not-so-secretly whispered to him, "You sing just the right song and you can get anypony to sing along!"

"Okay...," he ambivalently replied, "but why? What do you get out of me singing?"

"Oh, I love to spread smiles to everypony, everywhere, every time!" she shouted, "And you always seem like you've got a smile hiding in there that you don't like to let out!"

Whatever Twilight had seen that had raised her concern, this one appeared to have seen it too. A bit like a giddier, zanier, cheerier, more unhinged, more unpredictable, and more downright goofballier Twilight in that regard. But she seemed to be a much more free-spirited, go-with-the-flow kind of individual as well. Maybe he could work with this. Maybe he could turn this around.

"I'm not really hiding anything," James evenly protested, "just keeping stuff close while I sort of wrap my head around it. Don't want my things to spill out without getting a handle on them first, you know?"

"Whaaat? Hehehe," giggled Pinkie Pie, picturing the most ridiculous possible mental image of what he had said. There was a lot of comic pratfalling in her version.

James gave a low grunt, dissatisfied with the alternate versions of his explanation that his brain kept producing. "There's a time... that's appropriate for letting your feelings out, and... there's a time for keeping them inside you," he tried.

"Ohhhh, sure sure!" Pinkie responded with a rattling nod of her head. However, then she swished her face in the other direction, saying, "But feelings aren't a single jar of cookies! You can put out the chocolate chip and the frosted shortbread cookies and the raspberry blossoms, and then leave the sugar cookies, coconut creme doodles, and peanut butter gumdrop macaroons in the pantry! Sing a little song and share a little smile! Don't keep it ALL in your grumpy pantry!"

"I'm just... playing it carefully. I can smile if I want," he insisted. Stretching his lips and flashing his teeth, he displayed the broadest smile his anatomy allowed him.

"Hmmmmmmmm," Pinkie Pie protractedly drew out. She popped herself down off the wall and lifted her face up to his for a close inspection. Steadily and purposefully she scanned him, craning her neck about, her eyes nearly bugging out of her head. She even brought a hoof up and pressed it against his face, feeling out his smile. The position of each of his jaw muscles was finessed, processed, and assessed. At long last, she withdrew and stoutly rendered judgment: "Your mouth can smile, but you aren't SMILE smiling."

His whole face collapsed into a barely neutral position. "You're... going to have to explain this to me."

"Aw, you know how!" she beamed. "You did it before, a little! At the party!" Her eyes shot a glance away and her mouth shrunk. "Or... the quiet party." She returned to normal in a blink, continuing, "When you were talking about your mom! And your dad! And your brothers and sisters! And your friends! And-"

"I get it," he said. Despite her perceived absent-mindedness she was apparently very well socialized, enough to easily be able to pick up on all the subtle qualities that made his smile attempt synthetic.

"So, come on! Don't you want to smile?" Pinkie Pie brought her own smile to bear with a welcoming levity.

"I don't think it's that simple," muttered James awkwardly, retreating slightly inside himself. "Like... just choosing to smile... through whatever it is you're facing. There are definitely times for it, lightening up and easing the tension and everything... but not always..." He tried to think about what he wanted to say but again he felt blinded by a thick fog. Every thought that started only blitzed off into the dense shroud of his inner mind, coming to no grounded conclusion. With effort he at least kept from sputtering and continued, "For all the good a little respite and distraction does, it doesn't truly solve anything. Helps you endure for awhile longer maybe but it's just kind of running away from things sometimes. And it really takes effort too! To just smile along and kept going through it all."

It wasn't clear if he had the pink pony's attention with his wandering monologue. She was certainly staring at him, slowly shifting her eyes and head about in small movements, but all the things he was used to reading in a person just couldn't be extracted from her. Whether it was something about her, or ponies in general, or something inside him at the moment, her gaze was just unreadable, like she had her own separate world orbiting about her. He said, "You're definitely very energetic, and upbeat, and positive... for you maybe it's really easy to just... grab the optimism bull by the horns, and... that must take a lot of energy for you to keep that up, so good on you I suppose. But... for others, there's a time when your feelings color everything and it's better to just... dig in and deal with it. If that makes any sense."

She immediately replied in a bright tone, without any deviance from her usual felicity, "Ya-huh."

"Uh, o-okay. Uh... good. Yeah, good," he answered back, lightly confused. Whatever nonsense had spewed from his month was already lost to him so he was glad that she had (apparently) caught it. Perhaps to try and cap it off, or maybe to reassure himself, he added, "I'm just looking for some time for myself right now. Whatever it is you think I'm missing will be back at some point." Life always had its ups and downs and it's not like he hadn't survived rough patches before. If he wasn't vivacious enough for her today... whatever. There would be another day when he probably would be. Probably.

"But all that's why I think it'd be great for you to sing!" Pinkie Pie chipperly chirped. "It doesn't take a lot! Just set the mood, sing a tune, and it'll bring the smile, even if it's just for a little while!" She hopped back up onto the wall and patted her hooves upon it excitedly in rhythm, like her simple take on all this would suddenly change his mind.

His hope with her prior brief reply was that it had been all over. Not wanting to go into it again, James tilted his head back and frivolously asked, "What if I choose to sing a sad song?"

The pink pony froze up. "Oh... yeah..." Each syllable dripped out like the drooled remains of ice cream. Tilting and twisting, her eyebrows began to curl and across her muzzle her great grin started to flip. But then with a genuine stare at him she gradually asked, "Do you want to sing a sad song? Cause I do know some good ones for those times when you've got to... but I get it... sad songs can help too..."

"That... wasn't what I was suggesting, no," he answered uneasily.

Pinkie Pie looked at him with a controlled sadness. The concept that there was nothing she could do simply wouldn't, or couldn't, occur to her, so she felt nothing but the full friction of grating against his passive attitude. Eventually, with all the gusto of a stalemate, she weakly offered, "You sure you don't want any ice cream?"

He sighed a tiny sigh, leaning back onto the wall. "If I take a cone, I'm not going to finish it all."

Her smile sprang back, bouncing her head up. "Aw, I hate to let ice cream go to waste, but I got too much of it as it is!" she pointed out, swinging a hoof out towards her still sizable congregation of cones. "Every little bit you take helps!"

"The chocolate," he said, pointing his finger.

"Yup yup! Can't go wrong with chocolate!" Enthusiastic and in blissful spirits again, she quickly retrieved his choice, skillfully and sprightly balancing it on her nose as she brought it to him.

Planting the cone on the wall, she closed her eyes with a gleaming grin and extended to him, "If you are ever in the mood to sing, you know where to find me." She blinked. "Do you know where to find me?" she suddenly questioned with a swirl of dizzy confusion whirring about her head. "Do I know where to find me when you want to sing?"

"If I ever want to sing it's not going to be here out in the streets," James reminded her.

"Oh! Oh! Then, you can come by the bakery some other time and we can sing! I'll teach you a cookie baking song and we can sing it and bake cookies and sing it some more and it'll be great!" Pinkie Pie stamped her hooves joyously, the dream already becoming a promise in her own head.

"Yeah...," he noncommittally agreed. "Some other time..." He gave his chocolate ice cream cone a scarce lick.

For several minutes James waited outside the door. More than once there were hints of forward motion, only to be canceled at the last second as he went back to rubbing his palms. He had been so sure he was ready to return to the library but now on the precipice there was suddenly doubt again.

It was going to be a simple message to his host pony: a light apology for storming out (no matter how justified he had been) and an unambiguous proclamation on the solitude of his personal feelings and how she would need to respect that. However, settling on a way to convey the message wasn't as simple. No matter which route it took there were probably going to be some rough patches, as was the nature of such line-drawing encounters. What's more, he didn't know her well enough to know which side of her personality he'd get: the reserved, thoughtful, yet open scholar; the caring, concerned, if pushy acquaintance; the neurotic, invading, and controlling hostess; or something so far unseen or unpredictable. He might have to be quick with his tongue and adjust his words carefully to avoid a repeat of his earlier blowup.

When enough calmness had collected inside him, he felt as ready as he would ever be. Tensing up just slightly, he stepped forward and sternly pushed open the door.

The inside of the library was well-lit for the coming evening. Candlelight warmed the room and what it didn't touch was caught in the glow of the ponies' unusual phosphorescent lamps. Together they illuminated the remotest corners, the dimmest shelves, and even the spaces between books. It had a homely warmth like the inviting radiance of a well-tended hearth. The only spot of coldness came from the far side of the room where Twilight stood alongside Spike, the two facing mostly away from the door and discussing something to themselves.

The swing and creak of the door as James entered alerted them and they turned to look. Twilight's eyes were dull and occupied, and her gaze appeared to go through him completely. "Oh... you're back," she said withdrawn.

"Yeah, I-" He hesitated. Something was unusual. Maybe he should let her have the first words.

She also waited, seeing if he had anything to say, but when his pause became obvious she took a moment to gaze between him, Spike, and something else that was in front of her. Then, with a heavy sigh, she rotated and started marching towards him.

Drawing a breath in, James readied himself.

"Here... you'll want to read this," Twilight said, almost in a drone. An opened letter whished passed her and stopped in front of the man before it slowly began to drift towards the floor.

He snatched the paper out of the air as Twilight trotted right by him without stopping. Surprised, he twisted his head around to look at her.

Opening the library door back up, she halted just before it and said back to the two, "I've got to inform the others. I'll be back later." Immediately she departed, with only Spike wishing her a goodbye.

The unexpectedness of what had transpired froze James in place for an instant. As the bewilderment waned and he caught up to the moment, he set aside his shampoo bottles and turned towards the paper in his hand. A royal seal stamped upon it, he unfolded it carefully and looked down at the finely penned writing that elegantly wove its way across the page:

My faithful student,

The presence of yourself and your friends is urgently requested at Canterlot with all due haste. Please secure transportation as early as you are able to, and send word as-

But his focus drifted. From just the start, the letter didn't strike him as anything that necessitated his attention and his eyes breezed down the rest of the writing without fully absorbing the contents. No truly specific information seemed to jump out at him, but the loose urgency of the words weren't masked by the formal language they were written in. He waved the letter and asked Spike, "What is this?"

"From Princess Celestia," the dragon answered. When James returned to just scrutinizing it with uncertainty, he suggested, "You might want to look at the bottom of it."

"Hm?" The man jumped down to end of the letter, reading:

In addition, please bring along your special guest. I would enjoy the opportunity to speak with him again now that he has had a chance to settle in.

Princess Celestia

In silence, he bounced back to the top and read the whole letter again, slower and more deliberately this time, before setting it down on a nearby table. "I guess we're heading to Canterlot soon?" he asked of Spike.

"Twilight wants to take the train out early next morning so everypony can make it."

"I see," he mumbled. "Any idea what's up?"

"I read the same thing as you," Spike shrugged. "I guess we'll find out when we get there."

"Early morning train...," the man mused to himself. He stared down at the letter, the vague message sitting amidst his bottles, some books, and other paperwork. A different sheet of paper caught his eye. Short, formal, and written with a very methodical penmanship, it was a bill for services rendered by Gadget. The service completed time was only about an hour ago; the repairpony had come and gone during his absence.

Spike gave James an odd stare. "Did you do something with your hair?" he noticed. His snout sniffed the air. "And what smells like honey?"

"I didn't do anything. Rarity did a thing...," the man absentmindedly responded without facing the dragon. Gears turned inside, their grinding impossible to ignore. Suddenly he said, again almost offhandedly to Spike, "I'm going to have something to eat and get to bed... if it's going to be an early morning tomorrow."

"You're not going to wait for Twilight?" Spike questioned.

He made his way towards the kitchen, dryly replying, "No."

Chapter 7: Distant

Not even the chill from the heavy morning cold could numb out the impressive sight of the train. Connected cars with ornate roofs, the gleaming windows catching the low sun's light, and the simple yet colorful engine sitting at the front, humming ready and hissing steam; it was a sight as crisp as an oil painting, beckoning passengers with aplomb welcome. And since it was the earliest departure of the day there was only a single small crowd gathered to board: Twilight and her friends.

The brisk cold served to push a lot of the tiredness from them and most of their greetings, calls of "good morning", and idle chatter had a friendly presence and pep. It was all cordial and warm, except for James and Twilight. The unicorn was pleasant to most of her friends, with a strong and happy face, but she said no words to the man. She had barely said anything to him since the prior evening. James kept his general courtesy towards the others when prompted by them but otherwise had been mirroring Twilight's silence.

It had been something of a rough night for him. Eating and then settling down to bed, he had failed to find any comfort or relaxation upon his cushy mattress. Whatever spell of ready repose the spa had left him with had long since gone and he had no recourse but to try and force himself to sleep. He had still been awake when Twilight had returned from delivering the news of the trip to all her other friends and, tired and wanting to be prepared for the needed early awakening, she had retired swiftly and without any attempt to speak with him. After struggling for hours in the darkness to shut his mind off, he had finally managed to sleep, but he still hadn't rested. The world of dreams had teased him once more. Visions of the lost old, so pure and perfect and loved, had become faded and unreachable, or corrupted and replaced again by the unwanted, unknown new. Arising with the pre-dawn light hadn't made things any less difficult, and he felt no better rested than he had been for days.

Standing amongst the ponies and the dragon, he tried to keep his mind away from the night, from Twilight, and from most everything else. He admired the train, with its oddly beautiful design and the power it radiated; the way its braced wheels seemed ready to take off at any moment. He gave succinct replies to anything said to him, returning greetings and answering questions in whatever way would politely get the other speaker to move on the swiftest. He looked at the bag he and Spike had been trading off carrying all morning on their way to the train station. They had mutually packed their things together. Only a pile of gems and jewels for the dragon ("a light snack" he had called it), and a few simple things for James: his books, the Princess Celestia-made tablecloth clothes as emergency wear, and the recently gifted shampoos from Rarity. If there was one thing losing everything had been good for, it was helping him pack light.

Just as some of the waiting passengers were beginning to complain about the biting cold, they were at last invited to board. The genial conductor, an older stallion with kindly eyes and a bushy mustache, quickly and gainly checked their tickets before he welcomed them aboard, his absolute love for his job audible in his vibrant voice. For him, no morning was too cold to run this train. His personality left a cheery impression on the boarding ponies, like being thoughtfully ushered into another pony's very home.

All their bags were secured promptly before they went to take their seats. It wasn't any surprise to James to find that the seats were low set; perfect for a pony to set their rump down upon but a little less so for the more upright form of a man. It didn't appear like it would be trouble though and fortunately, since they would be the only passengers in the car, he would have plenty of space to stretch his legs out and sit comfortably. Without regard for much else, he selected a seat next to a window, sat, and looked out at the train station.

Twilight saw him sit and for a moment she leaned forward, considering approaching him. But all she saw in her head was his reclusion, his overbearing desire to be left alone anytime he was approached with anything about himself, and the shaking anger and frustration that had boiled just under the surface of his skin when they had last seriously talked. When her pendulum swung to the side of caring about him, of trying to address whatever it was that infected him somewhere deep inside, she felt the heavy weight swinging back with a trepidatious caution and a selfish apathy. A fear of not wanting to accidentally guide things further into dark territory but also an uncomfortable feeling that it just wasn't worth dealing with the foul side of his attitude. Wearied by even only the emotions running through her, she shrank back, looked away with a bit of a low moan, and sat in a seat further back from his on the opposite side.

The others divided and chose seats at their leisure, almost arbitrarily by whomever their current conversation partner was. Rarity related to Applejack how relieved she was to have had serviced her hair immediately before such an important trip as seeing the Princess, and the two plunked down together. Pinkie Pie rambled about every little thought that came to her head, the blazing words being absorbed by a politely rapt Fluttershy as they sat upon their seat. Spike, still sluggish with some morning fatigue but quickly getting better in the company of the others, popped himself up onto the seat next to Twilight.

The dallying Rainbow Dash, beating back her drowsiness with only her inexhaustible gumption, floated in the central aisle and weighed her options. As the car was relatively barren there were plenty of choices available. She could slip into one of the seats opposite some of the others and join their dialogue. Or it would also be easy to claim a whole seat for her own and crash down on it for a fast return to slumber. Despite the enticing allure of the felt cushions, calling with their soft lullaby, some particular lark in her, some errant whimsy, guided her over to James' seat where she dropped out of the air and landed next to him with a hushed plop.

Stretching legs and wings while arching her back, the pegasus gave an extended yawn as the man pried his eyes away from the window to look upon her, suspicious of the reasons she could possibly have for her choice of location. When her limbering up finished, she rested herself against the back of the seat and stared right back at him, ever confident and self-assured, if still sleepy. At last, with cadence as if she was diving into the middle of a conversation, she said, "So it's like I only ever see you in the library, reading."

He stared back, still trying to decipher her. "... Yeah?"

"You must get along pretty well with Twilight if all you do is dig your face into her dumb books," Rainbow Dash laughed.

James' eyes ran back to the window. "Oh. Not really... I mean, we talk and stuff...," he droned. He looked for escape beyond the glass. The station; its platform; anything to draw his thoughts and attention away, but it wasn't a traveler's morning for the rest of Ponyville. Nothing was there to observe but dry, stiff wood. He brought his voice low, "Let's not talk about her."

The pegasus squinted one eye at his turned backside, but then with a shrug and some bright sarcasm she accused, "You haven't been stirring up any trouble, have you?"

James snorted a laugh, the warmth condensing against the icy glass. He recalled how seriously Rainbow Dash had been guarded against him. How she had sworn in her suspicion to watch him like a hawk, least he prove to be dangerous. Twilight had largely gotten her to ease up on her mistrust (and it was surprising how acquainted you could get with someone through a simple, honest round of darts,) but he hadn't forgotten that comforting normality of a pony he could get some decent, everyday traction against.

Turning back to her, the man replied with a feigned, oozing smugness, "I'm still piecing together the final bits of my diabolical master plan."

"Well, remember, I've always got my eye on you," Rainbow Dash answered back, grinning. "Can't sneak anything by me! I'm vigilant like a Wonderbolt!" She puffed herself up, sitting with her chest out and her chin raised, proud and heroic.

"So it must have been you who rained out my foul schemes yesterday," he retorted.

"And I've got plenty more storms where that came from! You'll never get away with anything!" the playfully bold pony declared.

Suddenly the train's whistle blared, loud and triumphant. It's call was glorious, like an inspiring rallying cry which heralded the start of a valiant charge. There were blasts of steam from the engine accompanied by hastening chugs as the train went from crawling to walking, and then to running. Its swelling speed rocked the passenger carriage at first, diminishing towards a steady rattle. The grand parade of transportation was underway.

Whirling about, James put his hands up against the window and gazed out with interest as the train began its departure. This time, his goal wasn't evasion; something about the experience stirred him. Pressed close against the window, he kept adjusting his head as the view changed from the station to passing flashes of Ponyville and then beyond, absorbing everything he could.

"Geez, excited much?" Rainbow Dash quipped, finding the man's sudden change into a wide-eyed child to be almost embarrassingly hilarious.

"I dunno," James mumbled back in an enthusiastic flurry, still looking out, "I haven't ridden on a train for a long, long time. Since I was a kid; eight or nine maybe." It was strange. He hadn't realized how excited he would be at all until the moment had fallen upon him, and it felt like a ball of stifling discomfort wrapped tightly by unbounded elation bouncing about inside of him. The whistle of the train was like the crack of a whip, and the rolling out of the wheels was like a jolt of electricity. He was almost gasping between long held breaths as he watched everything go by. "Just... something inside... it's interesting..."

"It's just a little train ride," said Rainbow Dash.

"Well... planes, trains, automobiles... all different ways of getting around... all different experiences," he babbled with distraction, his voice falling off and coming back in at random intervals. "Did you hear that whistle?" he suddenly asked. "It just..." He gestured like he was pulling something out of himself, but couldn't put it to words.

Without warning he snapped the latches holding the window shut and brought the glass down, letting a rush of air in and eliciting some mild complaints from Applejack and Rarity two seats behind him. Bringing his face partially out the open port, he indulged in the nips and bites of the frigid wind as it beat past him. The frost that filled his lungs when he breathed in provided a burst of exhilaration, pouring more life and refreshment into him than his entire failed night of sleep had. And somehow the removal of the glass between him and the outside caused that world which was rolling by to became all the more vibrant and real. He soaked it all in. He needed it. He tried to shut out whichever piece of him was disturbed and surprised by himself, and he rationalized over the wind, "Maybe it's just cause I only have these childhood memories of it... like, some kind of nostalgic echo, but... but it's... it's enchanting."

"It's BORING," Rainbow Dash contended with a large nod of her head. "It's nothing like cutting your way through the sky being all awesome and like 'AW YEAH.'" Her wings reacted to her exuberance, bending and flapping and rolling, picking her up off the seat briefly.

Taking a last breath of the chilly air, James shut the window and sat back down. With more focused attention, he turned to face the pegasus and lightly needled her, "Well, if it's so boring why don't you fly your way to Canterlot?"

She instantly countered, "Oh, I totally would, but this early in the morning?" She stretched again with another mighty, if somewhat false, yawn and stated, "Great time to get some shut-eye instead."

"Oh, sure," James mockingly agreed, "let the gentle rhythm of the tracks rock the baby to sleep. Makes sense."

Rainbow Dash snickered and then pointed a hoof at him. "Why don't YOU fly there? Oh wait! You don't have THESE babies!" She flexed her wings and kissed one of them.

"Hehe, well, I've flown plenty of places," he responded, slightly more straight in demeanor, "but yeah, without wings people do it in planes with these massive, powerful, roaring jet engines."

"Engines? Lame!" She threw a hoof out. "Grow a pair."

"Of wings?" he chuckled. "Like you apparently decided to do one day?"

"Darn straight!"

In her seat a few rows back, Twilight watched as James and Rainbow Dash continued to rib and tease each other, interspersed with occasional, more general chatter. She followed the pegasus' bluffs and bluster, and she watched as the man turned it back with a smile or a laugh before offering some of his own. He was up, and bright, and forward. Twilight's form drooped.

That wasn't the way she got along with him at all. When she interacted with him, what did they talk about? She would always analyze him. Always ask him questions or pick him apart. He was a fascinating specimen in a way; the only gateway to knowledge from another world. There was so much to learn. And since she had been assigned to take care of him she would have to learn from him and about him in order to understand how to properly look out for him. But it wasn't like he hadn't enjoyed their debates and exchanges, was it? After all, he had often had questions of his own. There was a philosophical side to him that had come out in those moments.

As her surveillance of the hearty exchanges continued, a tension built up in Twilight, which she released with a shiver of forlorn lament and a wispy sigh.

"What's the matter, Twilight?" asked Spike, concerned.

"Oh. It's nothing, Spike," she answered quietly.

The dragon hummed for a moment, twiddling his thumbs, before simply turning his attention elsewhere. He had no reason not to trust her.

"Hey... Spike...," Twilight called loosely to him after a silence.

"Yeah?"

"Have you noticed anything... odd... about James?" She seemed to stumble over her words, having one set in mind but another in her mouth.

"Odd?" Spike turned to get a look at the man, who for some bizarre reason was pantomiming flapping wings with his arms to his pegasus partner. "I dunno," the dragon shrugged. "What's 'odd' for him?"

Rubbing the back of her neck, Twilight maundered, "Well... I mean... do you... ever get the feeling that maybe, uh... something's, you know... wrong?"

"I dunno. Not really, I guess," he said, stealing another glance at James. "He seems alright when I talk to him, but I mostly leave him to read though. I mean, he seems to like being alone most of the time and I don't really know him that well yet to say otherwise." He brought a claw up to his chin in consideration but even with the extra brainpower that provided the dragon still couldn't follow Twilight's worry, so he suggested to her, "Why don't you talk to James about it?"

"Oh, hehe," the unicorn laughed nervously. Her voice wobbled. "Yeah... I guess... I guess I should do that. Sometime. Yeah. Hehe."

"You're... sure nothing's the matter, Twilight?" Spike repeated.

She seized herself. With a bit of a stern edge, she solidly relayed, "I'm fine, Spike!"

"Okay," he accepted with mild hesitation. He turned his thoughts back to wherever they had laid before.

Twilight took a look out the window next to her, but she saw nothing. Her final words merely looped back in her ears hauntingly: "I'm fine," "I'm fine!" "I'M FINE!" But the words mutated away from her own voice. She realized at that moment whom she had sounded like.

One of the biggest benefits to an early morning departure was that they could arrive at their destination on the same day with a healthy amount of daylight left. The climbing spires of Canterlot were first visible while the sun was still high in the sky. By the time the mighty towers were close enough to block the brilliant solar rays, there was still a thick expanse of sky between the lowering sun and the infinite horizon.

James couldn't keep himself from taking extended stares at the splendid city for as long as its royal towers and terraces fell within the view of his window. He had gotten airborne glimpses of Canterlot before, riding high in a pegasus-driven chariot not long after he had first arrived in Equestria, and he had taken idle looks out at the city from the castle windows and gardens during his brief stay, but he hadn't been in an observing state of mind then. Now, especially as the train crawled into the Canterlot station, he got the view an ant would have looking up at a surrounding canyon.

There was something so contrary yet harmonized about the city. The many structures that it was composed of seemed to grow out of it, organic and free, though there was so much organization and balance in it. The great walls of simple stone supported the flashy rooftops, luxurious peaks, and elaborately designed canopies. Banners were flown from numerous poles, their windward weaving revealing designs both intricately complicated and plainly direct. The aged castle had an oldness that refused to conflict with the young newness exhibited by the vigorous, ordinary ponies who lived their day-to-day lives there.

Upon arrival, the group disembarked. Guards gathered their bags and other things while Twilight lead her friends through the busy streets towards the castle. James was still caught up in taking everything in as they went, much of the location's grand majesty reminding him of a city's old quarter mixed with the fantasy illustrations of a storybook. He regretted not keeping his eyes up the last time.

Eventually they ascended a tremendous stairway that lead to an equally large set of double doors, opened for them by the Royal Guard. Inside was the main hall, where a red carpet formed the center aisle down rows of stalwart marble columns. Rainbows of light rode in through giant stained glass depictions of Equestrian history on either side, flanked by many tapestries and murals depicting past or present. And at the far end of the hall, making a slow approach to meet the group in the middle, was the most regal pony of them all.

With hair streaming, and crown shining, and wise eyes glistening with warmth, Princess Celestia received the arrivals with a motherly hospitality, proclaiming, "Greetings, Twilight Sparkle, my faithful student, and welcomed friends! I'm delighted to have you in Canterlot once more!"

All the ponies bowed to her, and Spike as well. James, taking his cue from them, brought a fist to his chest and bent forward before rising with the others. He then placed his hands behind his back and stood at attention, as felt proper to him. He could feel that something was different though. It was true that he had still been reeling in a state of shock the last time he had met the Princess so maybe his memory of the event wasn't as clear as it would otherwise be, but the nature of her authority had changed in his eyes. Something was... softer, and more gentle.

Applejack straightened the hat on her head after doffing it with her bow, and she pleasantly returned, "Aw shucks, Princess. We're always happier than a mouse in a cheese factory to come on over."

"What our quaint friend means to say is," Rarity hastily inserted, "the pleasure is all ours, really. Thank you for your most gracious invitation."

The Princess smiled, always pleased by the friends' interplay. Not that their ever dependable nature and always devoted will wasn't also worthy of a smile.

"Princess Celestia, we came as rapidly as we could," Twilight reported with an official seriousness, standing firm with a loyal grace. "What has happened that you have called us here so urgently for?"

A gravity descended upon Princess Celestia. It didn't come bearing darkness but still something hidden weighed her down from within. From James' perspective, he saw the leaderly authority which he remembered, heavy with a grave decorum, return. "I've summoned you here," the Princess responded, "because there is a situation that has been developing that I believe would benefit from your specific attention."

The sense of enormous significance which she reflected spread throughout the room. All those gathered paid unblinking attention to the Princess as she strode to one side of the chamber, halting in front of a fairly recent mural which depicted a rough-and-tumble group of ponies working together on a patchwork town in front of a hungry forest.

Staring up at the narrative scene, Princess Celestia spoke at length to her audience, laying out history and story with solemn words: "In the west, beyond the mountains of the Pearl Peaks, is the settlement of Hamestown, began some decades ago by a group of brave and enterprising frontiersponies. The village lies against Unicorn Spring Forest; a wild and untamed woods similar in some ways to the Everfree Forest. As part of the long, tireless effort to build their settlement, the ponies of Hamestown have maintained a careful harmony with the forest; a special balance with all the wild plants and creatures that are their neighbors. Anything that they must take from the forest they are sure to return or compensate for. What the forest can provide, they share with every living creature that makes it a home, taking great care to respect it and not to intrude dangerously upon the natural cycle of life within it. Their skill in harmony has been so remarkable that they have gone on for years without a problem.

"But recently there has been trouble. The settlement has needed to expand and so the ponies have labored hard to carefully and deliberately grow their town. As ever, their plans have included the forest. If a tree is in the way then it is meticulously relocated. Every animal which could be affected is safely migrated. Every stream rerouted. Every resource is spent to ensure that there is no disturbance in their balance with the forest. It is a long, hard effort that has been calculated far in advance. But something is still wrong.

"The ponies there tell of supplies going missing, things of theirs being destroyed, and more troubles. They have tried their best to discover their failing; to determine what they have missed that has angered the forest so. But they do not know. And, unsure of what else to do, they have written to me requesting help."

For all who gazed upon the mural, the Princess's words seemed to bring it to life. The little, stylized ponies stood before the deepened forest, bowing respectfully before they set to work. With unfailing effort they laid down home and hearth, farm and fair, road and rail, working for long years with a sense of duty that passed from mother and father to son and daughter. And always, always, they had their eyes regarding the forest with consummate reverence.

Facing everypony again, Princess Celestia said with her head high, "That is where you come in, my little ponies. I am sending you on my behalf to investigate these troubles at Hamestown, and solve them." Her voice had all the authority of an order but all the love of a personal request. For a brief moment however, her eyes turned away with something silent, something distant yet close, hidden behind them.

A dull quiet echoed in the hall. The empty moment let all of the Princess's words sink in. It was at last Twilight who broke the silence, who asked, unknowingly incredulous, "Is that it?"

With no more than a doting smile the Princess replied simply, "Yes."

"Oh! Uh..." Twilight nervously wobbled and darted her eyes about. "I j-just thought... I mean, the urgency in the l-letter you sent... I t-thought it would be something more..." She tried to rein herself in, finally getting a solid hold of her wits when she slowed down to take a deep breath. "I mean, of course we'll investigate for you, Princess Celestia!" With a hoof across her chest, she closed her eyes and lowered her head in promise, hiding the uncertain doubt in her heart.

All of her friends simultaneously affirmed their dedication to the cause as well, giving different bows of their own. Slightly lost, James lagged behind the others, catching up quickly with a reckless and unpoised bow. But he kept silent because he did not know what his role in all this was.

"I am delighted to hear it!" Princess Celestia said. "I am confident that you will do your best and heal the rift in harmony that long ago found its way there." Again, the Princess's eyes wandered for just a moment, caught on something old and painful, before she looked back at Twilight with a proud faith.

Slowly the Princess stepped forward and wound her way around her pupil, looking over her other subjects. She spoke out to all of the gathered, "I've already arranged for a train to carry you out to Hamestown tomorrow morning. For tonight, please rest from your trip here. The Royal Guard can show you to your rooms whenever you are ready." Her short, wandering speech brought her right in front of James, and she cast her strong eyes down upon him, the only pony in the room with an element of height over him. "And in the meantime," she continued, directly at him, burying her words with sincerity, "I would be very grateful if you would walk and talk with me, if you please."

Again James could feel that she wasn't the same as his last encounter with her. That power and authority that she had squeezed into an interrogation of him before could not be found now. Her concerns of little more than two weeks ago weren't her concerns of today and it seemed quite earnestly that she sought not to question him but to, more simply, ask him questions. This wasn't the queen who ruled for the safety of her subjects, or the judge who was deliberating his fate. He found himself locked with a tight indecision because, between his past experience of her and the more recently uncovered knowledge about her from Twilight's books, he still hadn't been prepared for this: she was only, perhaps, a curious pony. Assuming that is all the Princess was being.

Actually it was kind of bothersome. He was more prepared to be examined by someone stationed above him than... whatever this was going to be. Now subtly perturbed, he had to concentrate to maintain what he thought was the proper amount of polite respect in replying, "If that is your wish. Lead the way."

With a happy nod, Princess Celestia moved past him and went towards a side corridor that lead away from the chamber, beckoning him to follow.

As they were leaving, Rainbow Dash lifted herself off the ground, rolled onto her back, and gently drifted through the air with her hooves behind her head. "Another train ride, huh?" she complained, kicking out with one of her legs. "I dunno if I want to hit the hay so soon just so I can get up for another boring train ride. Anypony want to see if the Wonderbolts are doing a show tonight?"

"Rainbow Dash, please," Rarity chided the flippant pony, "could you focus for just a minute before wandering off? This is a task assigned to us by Princess Celestia herself and I think it behooves us to discuss it seriously before we entertain thoughts of such frivolities."

"Pfft," the pegasus casually rejected. She rolled a hoof in front of her face, explaining away her nonchalance, "It doesn't sound like a big deal. A few crazy animals? We've dealt with worse."

Applejack rigidly offered her opinion, saying, "As mighty pleasurable as a night on the town sounds, I think Miss Prissy Pants here has a point. Maybe we have tussled with some right nasty things before but we still don't know nothing 'bout what we're looking at right now." She racked her brain but the farthest out that she could place any relative of hers was in the foothills of the Pearl Peaks. Hamestown must've been one of the few corners of Equestria without an Apple. "Anypony ever been out that way before?" she asked.

Meekly, Fluttershy opined, "Well... it sounds to me like some poor little critter is just upset and lashing out." She was drenched with sympathy for the theoretical troublemaker. But suddenly she shrank with fear and worried with a shaky voice, "At least, I hope it's a poor little critter and not a... big... mean... hungry..." A whine and a shiver were all she could punctuate her sentence with.

Pinkie Pie popped up next to her and brightly offered a few choice suggestions: "A big, mean, hungry... bear? Lion? Basilisk? Dragon? Dreaded venomous three-toed spike-tailed razor-winged woolly ram-moth, with the flu?"

Each increasingly ghastly entry on the grisly list caused Fluttershy to shrink more and more until, by the end, she was cowering under her own hooves and wings.

"Relax," Spike confidently said to them, "I'm sure Twilight knows something about this place. And if not, she'll be in the Canterlot library tonight to research it." Bold and assured, he effortlessly asked the unicorn, "Right, Twilight?"

"Hm?" Twilight hadn't been paying attention to a single word that had been traded between her friends. Her attention had been affixed to Princess Celestia, watching her mentor invite and then lead James out of the room. Her focus had never turned away even as they had disappeared, leaving her staring at the side corridor in silence.

Even though she had no reason to presume it, she had kind of expected that she would be present for the Princess's questioning of the man. After all, wasn't it her that had been watching James for the past two weeks? The Princess had assigned her that task specifically. She hadn't been very diligent with reports on progress, though; just a scant few here or there when the moment had felt right. It's not like she had been able to watch him aggressively all the time in order to get the material for reports, anyway... Maybe that was why the Princess was handling this in private? Was this small assignment in Hamestown a distraction to get her away so that Princess Celestia could handle him herself because... because... maybe the Princess believed she was failing?

"Uh... Twilight?" Spike addressed her again.

"Huh? Oh... yes... I'll, uh... I'll see what I can dig up later," answered the unicorn, ripping her eyes away from the corridor. She had to strike her own head once to recollect her wits. "It really doesn't sound like this will be much more than getting Fluttershy out there to settle down a few rowdy animals, though."

"Well, that sounds a mite too simple-like to send ALL of us for," Applejack wondered aloud. "You'd hope them ponies at Hamestown could handle it their own selves if it were only that."

"Whatever," Rainbow Dash stated, correcting her midair orientation. "Point is, Twilight's on study duty and there's nothing for us to do until tomorrow. So, I'm out. Anypony who wants to come along just try and keep up." And like that, she swooped away out the front doors, dusting rainbow behind her.

"Hey!" Applejack fruitlessly called after her. When there was no answer except the fading sound of beating wings, the farm pony readjusted her hat and whispered in a low growl, "Dagnabbit."

"Well, I suppose that's that, then," Rarity sighed.

"Guess so," Applejack relented. If that was truly all for today then she didn't see any reason to hold back on heading out. Gently apologetic, she said, "Sorry, Twi, but I reckon Rainbow is right... in a way. I'll hogtie any beast you point me to, no matter how ferocious, once we're actually out there. But... 'til then I think you're the best pony to figure things out. Have a good night y'all, if'n I don't see you later." She rushed off to try and catch up to the speedy pegasus, hollering as she went.

Somewhat wearied, Rarity told the remaining ponies, "I don't know about everypony else but the first thing I'd like to do is pick up a good meal."

There were immediate nods of agreement from seemingly all of them, and so they turned and began to amble towards the exit. Pinkie Pie bounced her way along, excitedly enumerating a host of eatery options more appropriate for snacktime, jumpstarting the discussion on choice of venue amongst the departing ponies.

Used to always having to account for his unconventional diet anyway, Spike didn't contribute much to the debate, but he did immediately notice an incorrect count of hoofbeats as they went. Turning around, he yelled, "Hey, Twilight! Aren't you coming?"

"Huh?" she responded, having to shake herself out of a deaf, ruminating state again. "Oh. No. You guys go on ahead."

Spike teetered back and forth between his lone friend and the other ponies before finally committing to a decision. Following the others out, he uneasily shouted to Twilight, "Come get me if you need any help at the library, okay?"

Alone except for the statuesque guards, Twilight groaned the tiniest sigh and hauled herself away. Anywhere. Or nowhere.

Chapter 8: Choice

"You don't need to walk so far behind me," Princess Celestia courteously recommended.

James picked up the pace of his steps until he was striding by her side. He had been following several steps behind her as they traveled down different castle corridors, with high ceilings, and exquisite carpets, and posted guards. "I'm sorry, Princess," he apologized as he caught up and matched her speed.

"That's quite alright," the Princess said with crumbs of laughter. She let the footsteps and hoofbeats dominate the soundscape for a minute while her sideways glance searched him. The only hint of expression on her was a tiny smile which never faded. At last she casually asked, "It hasn't been terribly long since we last spoke, but how are you?"

With no guesses as to the Princess's true aims, nor predictions about the direction this was headed, he answered the only way he could: "I'm fine, Your Highness."

"I hope so," she replied. "After such a transition, the first days are undoubtedly the hardest."

"If I may ask, Princess, what makes you say that?" James requested, subtly curious.

Princess Celestia gazed off into the past and explained, "When my sister at last returned from her long banishment, all of Equestria had changed from what she had previously known. So not only did she have to rediscover her place amongst ponies but she had to do it in a new world where she herself had only ever been an old ponies' tale." She looked emphatically at him. "It has been quite a challenge for her."

"Sister?" he mulled. Some mythical knowledge that he had gleamed from Twilight's books quickly jumped to the forefront of his mind. "Nightma- I mean, Princess Luna."

"Yes," Princess Celestia confirmed. "What you face is similar in its own way."

"In its own way," James repeated warily. But he shook his head, saying, "Your Highness, if I may say, Princess Luna was coming out of some... one thousand year exile? That's not quite the same thing. I mean, for as many similarities as there might be, there are big differences."

Nodding with agreement, the Princess told him, "Yes, that is very true. Not the least of those differences is that you are not her and she is not you. But, to you, does that mean her experiences couldn't apply?"

"Maybe," he muttered, but after a moment of thought he formed his opinion, suggesting, "I suppose it's possible. Learning is a matter of drawing out what you think is useful from the lessons of the world and then applying it. So maybe there could be something useful I could take from her experiences, something to learn, even with our differences." Suddenly remiss, he tacked on his forgotten formality, "Erm, Your Highness."

"Good insight," she commended. Her voice then shifted from praising to perspicacious; a teacherly tone that tried to inspire answers. "Is that all, though? My sister's experiences are a resource to be mined?"

James tarried on responding, unable to decide if her question was some manner of test or if the sheer honesty and encouragement in her voice indicated only some kind of knowledgeable altruism. With hesitant reserve, he gave what he thought would at least be the most forthright answer: "I'm sorry, Princess. I don't think I see what you're getting at. I don't know Princess Luna."

"That's quite alright," Princess Celestia laughed, greatly amused by his having thrown in an unnecessary and formal apology. Then, still guiding, she continued, "What I'm getting at is: could there be more to what you two might share than just what you could learn from it? Is there something more to be gained?"

He thought, but he couldn't offer an answer.

When his silence became clear, she said, "You've been focused inward. Tightly controlling what can come in from the outside. That's alright. Some answers, and some comforts, do come from inside, and not always immediately. But if you'd like you could speak with my sister. I think you both would enjoy it."

The suggestion of adding another complication onto this whole mess of things he almost wished would just disappear was immediately distasteful to him and, dry of commitment, he mumbled, "Perhaps..."

"Perhaps," repeated the Princess curiously before she returned to silence.

They rounded another corner and thereafter stepped through a doorway into a small, lightly decorated room. There was a simple table with quills and paper, a dim, ashy, and unlit hearth, some bookshelves, and more than one comfortable looking spot to set down. It was a lounge or study of some kind. The far wall was composed entirely of folding glass doors behind heavy, drawn back curtains held in place with thick golden-colored rope; a windowed wall to the outside from which the carved balustrade of a balcony could be seen and the delicately amber sunlight streamed in at an angle.

Princess Celestia did not stop upon entering. She magically opened the doors to the balcony, stepping out onto it with the man. The platform was perched low on one of the castle towers but it still gave them a view over a swath of Canterlot. Standing side by side, a few paces apart, they looked down upon the city. Again, the contrary harmony of the city called out to James. The place breathed complete reconciliation with all things.

He looked at the Princess, who stared out over the rail, and it felt like she was waiting for him to offer a thought. There wasn't a pressure that came from her; no rigid spirit of authority which haunted him for answers nor a demanding demeanor which expected specific details. Only some unseen eagerness that looked forward to whatever he had to say, whether it was an old idea or new.

Since he had arrived in Equestria there had been this image in his head of who this Princess was. A picture had come to him which represented her being. It had been distorted at first, blurred by his overwhelmed senses after having had jumped dimensions, but each day that had gone by had tweaked that image a little bit more. He had been learning about her from many sources: pony, and book, and experience. And as he had gained those insights he had made adjustments which steadily had brought that picture into focus. Only upon meeting her now again he saw that it was a narrow and wrong image anyway. What this Princess was... was something different.

Loosening up, his excess formality seemed to fall right out of him. The respect in him changed to one not based in response to authority but rather relaxed camaraderie, like meeting a warm stranger in a homely bar whose enticing talk and tales invited passing friendship. Without thinking too deeply about what he was saying, he idly told the Princess, "... You're not who I thought you were."

"Oh?" she giggled. "Quite honestly, I thought the same thing about you shortly after we first met." Then, clearly intrigued, she asked, "So, who did you believe I was?"

Crossing his arms, James gazed down in thought. "The boss, I guess. I mean, maybe it would be better to say that you're in charge in a way that... hm..." He took a moment longer before solidly saying, "You don't lead in a way I would have expected."

"Did you believe I would lead by force?" Princess Celestia asked with utter honesty.

"No, not at all. I mean, that would have been a bad sign straight up," he replied. "Domination typically doesn't last, you know? You apply force, then at some point, inevitably, you're just going to get force back. There definitely are times that require a forceful leadership... times for something harder... something strong... like, standing up to make a tough decision, come what may, but that's not the whole of it," he reasoned. His mind searched through all he knew; his personal history, world history, and more, and he opined, "A good leader, like, an actual good leader, is as much an inspiration as a decider. And... well, I guess that's where your choice came from. From just trying to set the example. I'm just... surprised to see it in this matter, I think."

"This matter?" she asked.

"Me," he pointed to himself.

Now greatly enthralled, she responded, "I see. And how do you believe I should have handled your coming?"

For a moment it felt like she was interviewing him all over again, with her peppering of questions. But it was so cordial and removed from tension that the feeling quickly passed.

He said, "I guess... with more caution, really. You were awfully quick to trust me." His surprise at that decision was one thing that hadn't dimmed with time. And it wasn't quite a good feeling of surprise either, despite what it meant for him personally. "I would have thought you'd quickly and strictly come down against me. You certainly had every reason to. To be worried about what I could be. To be suspicious about what I could bring. And one life versus that possible risk to Equestria? Why chance it?"

Though it was rhetorical, he answered the question himself, "I guess I get now that you chose a road of leading by example. That by taking a stand for trust and compassion you're setting the example for all those who look up to you. It's just... that was a really huge risk to take."

"So I should have not trusted you then?" Princess Celestia remarked in amusement.

With a thin smile, James rolled his eyes and replied, "I'm using myself as an example. You know I mean it all in a broader sense."

"I know," she confirmed with laughter. But then she soberly followed up, "I did take your arrival seriously. Very seriously. It only didn't take me long to come to a final judgment."

Her response was blended with both a cool relief and a somber nature which left no doubt in him about how gravely she must have considered the matter. But it escaped his imagination how she could have reached such a decision so immediately, and he asked her openly, "Why? How was it a quick decision?"

"Why do you believe it was?" the Princess instantly returned, once more joyfully smarmy.

Now James felt the first taps of frustration with her mirror of questions. He didn't have an answer to begin with, which was why he had asked her, but now he almost didn't want to continue this line of thinking, if only from some gurgling, twisted sense of spite. He tried to circle his way around her question, asking, "What if somebody else had come through who wasn't like me? Somebody with darker thoughts but a brighter appearance? Somebody ready and willing to slyly take advantage of the situation?"

"That was one of the risks, wasn't it?" Princess Celestia stated. Then, with a clarity of mind, she at last explained to him, "If I hold every outsider in contempt maybe I do protect Equestria from foreign dangers. But as you said, what example am I setting then? Maybe in place of a poison seeping in from outside I would be delivering one on the inside.

"I am not flawless," she suddenly asserted with a lowered head, not in shame, but with unavoidable regret. "Like any pony, I make the choices that I feel are the best I can make and then I must deal with the consequences. If somepony had come with evil intent I hope I would have had the wisdom to perceive it, just as I was able to see within you the goodwill and strength of character to make the choices... perhaps in time... that you think will be the best for everypony and not just yourself. I believe also that, again perhaps with time, you will handle the consequences of your choices and not run from them."

He was silent.

"Did you prefer when I asked questions?" she chuckled, breaking the stillness.

"I'm still not sure it's the decision I would have made," he said as he drew a heavier breath. "I mean, good intentions are a far cry from good actions."

"Yes," she agreed. Something cold took her and she withdrew slightly, saying in a dim voice, "It's a matter of trust. Trusting in others. Trusting them to work with even more others to turn their good will to good acts. Believing in others. One pony cannot alone bear the world on their back." James again caught something hidden behind her eyes. Some deep matter far gone but far from forgotten; locked away; unspoken. "I learned that lesson long ago," she stolidly told him, "and it's why I now share many responsibilities with others, and hold on to so much faith in them to complete those tasks."

"... like Twilight," James realized.

"Yes."

Again, a soft stillness betook them. Minutes passed, watching the small movements in the city below and feeling the tickles of the slowly dancing high winds as the sun trotted a few more inches in the sky, scattering a dusky red. The man had things he perhaps wanted to say but never quite settled on a way to express them. The wisdom in the Princess was easy to see now and he presumed that her outlooks and attitude, while not matching his, was merely what happens when one lives so many lifetimes in one place. For the first time, her choices finally made sense to him.

Princess Celestia didn't take long to collect herself from her brooding. She waited for him, eager for anything more he might offer. When enough time had passed without comment from him, she tried to ease things along and asked, "How do you feel?"

"What?" he uttered with a start.

"You were right to point to the differences between yourself and my sister," the Princess said. "She was returning, even if it was to something new, but you're leaving something behind. So... how do you feel?"

Irked at again being brought such a question, especially after she had basically asked it only a little while earlier, he responded using the same line, backed with unnecessary gruffness, "I'm fine."

"That's how you ARE, if you say so," she expressed clearly, not doubting him. Still, she pushed, "but how do you FEEL?"

It was only her great discernment and understanding that saved her from pushing his ire in the wrong direction. It never felt to James like she was working against him. It was more like every step she took was in the same direction he was going, even if the things she said or asked weren't what he wanted to hear. She made the question different somehow. Still seasoned with an understated harshness, but also with great difficulty, he admitted to her, "... I'm still figuring that out."

"I see," she accepted. Taking a few sure-hoofed steps, she turned slightly and edged closer to him so she could look at him more directly. When he picked up his eyes enough to catch her's, she told him soundly, "You're not alone."

James turned away again. A cloak of resentment started to envelop him and his words fell out like stones, "I suppose you're going to tell me to go talk to Twilight."

"Would it matter if I said it to you?" Princess Celestia inquired intentionally. "Would it matter if I asked you to? Would it even matter if, as the authority of these lands, I commanded you to? You've told me what you think a leader is." She pressed just a faint bit closer to him. "The choice will always be yours," she said. "But more importantly, it will always be yours because even if I were to vainly command you to do things, I cannot command you to feel things. Regarding the weighty matters that trouble you, it is in nopony's power to make you feel things you do not want to feel. But... do understand what your options are."

Rather than respond, he rested against the uncomfortable silence, not willing to turn back towards her. But she offered no further words. Eventually, feeling pressured to move things along, if only to get beyond this topic, he quietly remarked with some resentment and a noticeable amount of sarcasm, "So... Twilight has all the answers, huh?"

"No. She does not." The Princess spaced herself away from him again, taking in the cityscape. "But she is ever the student. Learning is what she does best. And if there is something to be learned then she may help. Speak with her... if you choose."

He had peeked at Princess Celestia when she had unexpectedly contradicted him but then he had swiftly resumed looking away. After she finished speaking, he stewed in thought before he could merely mutter an undetermined, "Perhaps..."

"Perhaps," the Princess again repeated him with a deliberate curiosity.

They shared a quiet moment longer on the balcony, resting above the yawning city as the sun's light cascaded down between scattered alleys and lanes. In time, Princess Celestia turned and walked back inside. She idly perused some books while politely waiting. James never needed to check to see if she had gone completely; there was an unmistakably bright presence to her that left her proximity never in doubt. Since she wasn't leaving he decided there was nothing for tiring his legs standing on this balcony and he joined her inside. He sat himself on the floor atop a carpet with a firm, sturdy pile and next to some assorted pillows where he waited to see what more she had in store for him.

But the Princess was simply happy he hadn't upped and left. Returning the book she was inspecting to its resting place, she said to him, "Maybe that's enough of these stronger matters for now. Thank you for indulging me, though I suppose you probably felt you had to." She found her own place to set herself down and with an avid inquisitiveness she offered, "Perhaps there is something you'd like to ask me? Anything at all, if you'd like."

He thought for a moment. It might be a nice escape. Then, with all the suddenness of a balloon bursting, an odd, offbeat, but curious thought popped up in his head and he couldn't resist pursuing it. Picking up some levity, he asked, "So... you're immortal, right?"

In time, Twilight wandered out of the main hall, down the steps, and to the front of the castle grounds where she walked aimlessly. The details of her newly given assignment were already disappearing from her head, forgotten. Only her worries over her older assignment, guardianship over an alien, held any weight inside of her. She couldn't keep herself from fretting. Plagued by fears that she had been saddled with a task beyond her capabilities, she wrestled with her panic as she thought about how her failings were now being brought before the pony whom she respected the most and she wasn't even there to try and defend herself.

What made the terror and anxiety all the worse was that no matter how much she dredged her memory, searching for a point of failure, she could never confidently determine what she should have done differently. James had been thrown onto her already existent responsibilities. She had slotted time for him where she could but had always felt okay leaving him to mostly manage himself, but maybe she should have curbed her other tasks and focused on him more? Yet sometimes he had seemed to ache to be alone, and other times he had joined in quite willingly and almost enthusiastically; she couldn't tell if more engagement would have helped or hurt. She could also sense that something was wrong with him, a nagging worry that had rumbled inside whenever she had seen how he behaved alone, but he had rebuffed all attempts to address it. Should she have pressed him harder? He had responded so angrily when she had tried to approach it; how could she have acted more without having made things worse? Instead, when it all came down to it, she had just given up and walked away. She was a failure.

That's all that Princess Celestia was going to hear. No matter what he tells the Princess, the royal pony is going to discover that she had left him alone to do whatever he wanted, spurning her duty of observation, and then had abandoned him in the face of his problem, spurning her duty of guardianship.

His problem? She knew it was there but she didn't even know what it was. Surely the Princess would see it too and be disappointed that she had failed to address it. And then the Princess would figure out his troubles and solve them instantly with some sage advice or a powerful spell before swearing to never leave such a responsibility in her hooves ever again.

But... maybe it was a bit presumptuous to think that James' problem could be completely exposed without his assistance, by her or the Princess. After all, it was so hard to get inside his head sometimes, even for matters that he wasn't working to keep others out of. While she had always felt something off, like the sense of distorted balance that pervades a tilted room, she didn't remember any of her friends having mentioned feeling the same worry about him. Though... they didn't see him all that much. But Spike had never mentioned anything either, and her assistant had been around. This man's problem was so hidden... but was he trying to hide it? And why?

None of her thoughts led anywhere constructive. She was so aggravated she could blast a hydra to stone. This was impossible! How could she be expected to watch over him if she couldn't help him, and how could she be expected to help him if he wouldn't trust her as a friend, and why would he ever trust her as a friend if she didn't respect his wishes and give him space?! Every solution was its own problem.

She sat down on the edge of a deserted walkway, the emptiness the perfect echo of her despair.

An uncountable amount of time passed, the minutes ticking by unrecognized by the melancholy unicorn, before she was snapped out of her grim misery by a buzzing overhead. Somepony called her name. She looked up to see Rainbow Dash dropping out of the sky and, not far off, Applejack was racing down the walkway to catch up.

"Hey, Twilight!" the landing pegasus greeted. There was a low, tapering disappointment in her manners. Presumably whatever she had found when she had zipped off into the city so eagerly had left her discouraged. "Really figuring everything out, huh?" she remarked upon the sight of the unicorn's unmistakable introspection.

"No...," Twilight droned, "I'm not... really sure what's going on..."

The reply confused Rainbow Dash and the freshly arrived Applejack, and the two exchanged befuddled looks. "It's just going to be like... some dumb raccoons or something," the pegasus said.

"Oh. You meant... Hamestown," Twilight realized. "I'm sorry, I was... I was thinking about... something else. I'll check the library later, I mean. I..." Her sentence died.

"Uh... everything alright, sugar cube?" Applejack asked, troubled. "You got that 'up a racetrack without a saddle' look on you."

"Yeah, I'm fine," the low unicorn weakly let up. But she winced. There were those words again. She heard the words echo in HIS voice once more. They repeated, harsh and strained, in the canyon of her mind. What was she doing? These were her friends. This is what they were here for. "No... no, I'm not fine," she admitted, ashamed. The echo binding her broke.

Her two friends pulled close. Rainbow Dash rested a hoof on her and tried to get her to raise her head while asking, "Twilight... what's the matter?"

"I think I really messed up with my assignment to monitor James," Twilight moaned sadly.

"Say what now?" squeaked Applejack with a tremendous amount of surprise.

"I was assigned guardianship over him so that his transition into Equestria would be smooth and seamless, but what have I done? Interrogate him repeatedly about his world, let Pinkie Pie throw him a party (which was a mistake that had to be fixed on the fly), and then barely anything more except let him hide away in the library and dig through books. And I'm certain something is bothering him badly but I can't figure it out because he won't speak to me about it and now he's talking with the Princess so she's going to find out what a failure I've been!" It all seemed to spill out of the unicorn at once, like pressure exploding out of the bottom of a can. The squashed sentences wandered away from her, lost in the same way she was.

Rainbow Dash and Applejack tried to navigate her jumbled words as best they could. They didn't catch every specific detail that rolled out of her but the gist of it was clear to them, and the pain she was in was even more glaring.

As the pegasus stammered, looking for the right place to begin, the farm pony improvised her speech. It started in a crawl but built up speed as she naturally slide into what she wanted to say: "Well... Beanstalk always struck me as... mighty fidgety and quiet-like. Something always going on behind his eyes, you know? Little worrisome at first, in more ways than one all things considering. But after awhile I figured it was only natural. Heck, you fall out of the apple tree and land in an orange basket and see how fast you warm up. Certainly wouldn't be in a hurry, I reckon." She clicked her tongue, blasted through the past few days of hers memories, and then mentioned, "You know, I kept telling him he should get out and look around town some. Not stagnate. Thought that would be a good way to get his hooves wet, do some slow acclimatin' while he was getting used to everypony. But I didn't really let it bother me none because... well, because I didn't hear anything from you, sugar cube, so I thought you had it in hoof."

"Yeah, Twilight," Rainbow Dash suddenly found a hook in, "how come you never came to us about any of this? I thought after the party that we were kind of in this together."

"I don't know! I don't know...," Twilight lowly wailed. "I guess I thought... that I was handling it on my own just fine and I didn't need anypony's help. But somehow everything slipped out of my grasp without me realizing it." A strained sigh wheezed out of her and she nearly sobbed, "Once the Princess hears all about it, she'll end her mentorship for sure."

"Now maybe this is just me," Applejack kindly interjected with an ounce of good-natured humor, "but that don't strike me as an awfully princess-like thing to do. Are you sure you ain't maybe getting your tail in a twist over nothing substantial there?"

"But... but, the assignment in Hamestown," Twilight tried to object. However something in her voice had begun changing. "So far away but so simple... she could have just informed Fluttershy and sent her, but she wanted me to go. Couldn't she be... sending me away?" It was half-like she herself didn't believe what she was saying anymore.

Rainbow Dash shook her head at the absurdity. "Nah, I'm with Applejack on this one. Maybe it is a little bit much to send all of us but what you're saying doesn't sound like the Princess at all," she declared. With a little bit of cockiness, she added, "Besides, when has she ever left something to us that she honestly thought we couldn't handle?"

The confidence flowed from one pony to the other and slowly Twilight collected herself. The rasher, more impulsively developed possibilities in her thoughts began to collapse under the weight of their own ridiculousness, no longer propped up by her downhearted imagination. The simple support of their friendship opened doors in her mind, revealing things she already knew but couldn't focus on. Warm, and with a growing smile, she said, "You're right, Rainbow Dash."

"Of course I am," the pegasus insisted. "When have I ever been wrong?"

"'Bout half the time you flap your gums," Applejack teased, giving her friend a pleasant slap on the side. She turned towards Twilight with a more serious, but still eased, attitude and asked, "So, about Beanstalk... what is this problem that you were going on about?"

"Yeah," Rainbow Dash chimed in, "he didn't seem that off on the train. I mean, a little goofy, but that's fine by me. Better than other things he could be."

"I don't really know what's bothering him exactly," reiterated Twilight. Her turnaround in mood hadn't changed her opinion on that. "I'm certain it's there, though."

The impatient pegasus fluttered up slightly, ambitiously asserting, "Well, let's go wait for the Princess to finish with him and then grill it out of him!"

"No!" Twilight called out spontaneously. She quickly brought herself back in line and explained, "I mean, I've already tried asking him about it and he just gets very... upset and defensive. And... I feel like we'll just overwhelm him if we all descend on him at once."

Rainbow Dash teetered her head thoughtfully, still bobbing in the air. She had confronted James once before with her own strong suspicions and mistrust, not long after he had arrived, and she remembered how unexpectedly collected he had been in response. So him having been 'upset' by only some prodding from Twilight felt a little strange to her on one hoof. But on the other hoof, it reignited some or her suspicion. Like the others, she tried very hard to keep suppressed the dark memory of his violence that they had witnessed shortly after having rescued him at the start of all this. But unlike the others she could never completely rule out that side of him, even after she had begun trusting him. She couldn't let go of her conflicting ideas about how he might handle pressure. Still, though...

Uneasily, she said, "I'm, uh, not trying to bring up a sore subject or anything but he does seem like a pretty tough guy. Maybe all jumping on him at once about it is EXACTLY what we should do? Like, just really throw it in his face? He could probably handle it... (I hope.)" Mostly she was trying to address her own fear of letting her friends confront him alone.

There was some cautious humming from her friends but Twilight eventually came out shaking her head. "No. Not now, anyway," the unicorn resolved, elaborating, "We're leaving for Hamestown tomorrow morning and I presume he's staying here in Canterlot. I don't want to risk provoking him and not being able to solve it before we have to head off. Besides, we should at least wait until we know what the Princess is speaking to him about."

"Well... if that's what you think is best," Applejack yielded gently, "we'll let the matter rest a spell. Just don't go forgetting that we're here to help you with it, yeah?" There was a nod of similar sentiment from Rainbow Dash.

Twilight bowed her head. When she looked back at them, a softness befell her eyes and she stated sincerely, "Thanks, you two. Really."

The farm pony brought a leg around her in a grand hug. "Aw, no thanks necessary, sugar cube! What're friends for?"

When the moment of fellowship passed, Rainbow Dash drummed some enthusiasm up in her voice and said, "So, that Wonderbolts thing was a bust, which means we still got an open evening ahead. Applejack and I were coming back to find the others."

"See if they wanted some grub, maybe," the orange pony appended.

"Oh, well, they did go to get something to eat but I don't know where exactly," Twilight told them. "They're probably somewhere close. We all arrived a little famished I think." A flick of consideration passed through her and she suddenly encouraged them, "Why don't you girls go and join them? I think I'll head to the castle library and start pulling some books instead. After all, if I keep saying 'maybe' or 'later' then I might never get to it at all!"

"Or at least very long lived," James added. "One thousand years ago, with sending Princess Luna to the moon and everything."

Princess Celestia tilted her head at the interesting, unexpected question. "I have been around for quite some time, yes," she responded with an ingrained curiosity. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious, I guess," he answered. "I mean, people rarely live for more than a hundred years, and that's if they're really good about taking care of themselves. So... meeting someone who's actually lived way longer..." He shrugged a shoulder.

It tickled the Princess's intrigue. One of the things she loved most about getting to meet so many individuals was observing their uniqueness. Witnessing the different things that drew their attention, or understanding how their concerns differed from others. "Nopony has ever really asked me about it before," she commented.

"It makes sense in a way," said James. "If you've always been around for them, and their parents, and their grandparents, and so on... then you're kind of a constant. It's 'just the way it is.' Questioning it would be like... asking why the sun rises every morning." The stylish depiction of the sun on her flank jumped out at him and he mused, "Okay, maybe... maybe that's a bad example here. But still... even that, how the ponies react so ordinarily to somebody who has been around for so long, it's just kind of interesting, I guess. Nothing like that back home."

Eager to draw more out of him, the Princess inquired, "And what are your thoughts on the matter?"

He gave her a bit of a knowing look and lightly jested, "I thought it was my turn to be asking the questions."

"I apologize," she returned with equal humor. "And... what is your question?"

Although he had meant his comment as a silly quip, poking fun at her still contributing to the conversation mostly in guiding questions, he had accidentally created a diversion in his thoughts. He wasn't particularly interested in being the inquisitor here, tweezing information out of her through precision questions. It was only that he found the topic at hand to be interesting to discuss leisurely, especially with one who could offer opinions from experience he couldn't find anywhere else. She had certainly read his feelings, though; it was evident in how she slyly smiled as he helplessly shrugged another shoulder when unable to come up with a follow-up question.

Pushing through, he regained his footing, saying, "I can't say I've ever really thought too deeply about immortality... again, it's never been a real thing. What would there be to consider, outside flights of fancy?" His own words triggered a realization in him: "Though... other people have certainly had a lot to say about the idea through the lens of fiction. Lots of stories where it's an element. And surprisingly, lots of thoughts both for AND against."

"Ah, interesting," she remarked. She leaned herself forward. Already James could see the next leading question forming in her throat and the inquiring shine in her eyes. But with a dash of deliberate, cheery mischievousness she instead stated, "Tell me about them."

"Oh. Ah... well..." He mulled as a quiet moment passed. "There's a lot that's appealing to the idea of never running out of time. Life is short. There's more to do than can be done in one lifetime." There were so many things that had been left unfinished, the world over. What would some people have traded to have the time to meet all the goals they had set for themselves? He proposed, "Immortality would remove one of the biggest cosmic restrictions someone has. Having that infinite time would open up a lot of personal possibilities."

Princess Celestia immediately asked, "And, if you had that infinite time, what would you use it for?"

He smirked at her again leading the way with questions, but as long as the topic was easy and enjoyable then acceptance had rolled its way into him. This was a much more comfortable road of discussion anyhow.

"I don't know," he admitted to her, "mostly because, again, I've never really thought much about it. I can understand why the thought of all that time would appeal to someone who is more... ambitious than me, I guess?" The reel of his life played back before him. Places and events in his time had moved along from one thing to next as had felt right and logical, one after the other as they had come, not according to the precalculated movements of a master planner; a life lived very much in the present. "I don't really have... I DIDN'T really have any specific plans. Just happy, regular days and warm, safe nights. Maybe eventually marriage and children, or whatever." In a single instant the train of thought became discomforting and almost suffocating. He saved himself by whirling it around, asking her, "Better question: what have you done with all these years that you've been given?"

"I have been blessed," the Princess breathed with profound veneration. "What I have wanted with my life has always been right before me," she continued, directing a hoof towards the balcony. Her pointing seemed to reach out beyond the city, stretching to every place Equestria over, and it reached deeper than any home, touching every heart of every pony. "But, to answer your question more directly, it has never been a matter of time. My role is not to fulfill a completable task or to finish something that has been started. It goes on. It must be lived every day. For however long, or short, that I live."

James grappled with her response, having felt genuine surprise at first but then quickly understanding her position. It described, after all, the kind of leader that she was. Impulsively he commented, "I suppose that's something else that can be put in the positive column for immortality: never having to be parted from something you love." But again a stifling uneasiness pinched him as the words ran from his mouth to his ears. He hardly had to lock eyes with the Princess to tell she had another leading question all ready to go. Another hook prepared to try and pull out more from this miserable mental path.

Jumping to cut her off, he hastily hopped tracks, "What probably drives most people to cherish the notion of immortality is just fear of death, I think. But I'll be honest, I've never understood that perspective well."

She studied him a moment and reasoned, "You do not fear death."

"Yeah, exactly, I guess," he nodded from an uncertain place. "Something about... ending, and the finality of it, really gets to some people. But not me so much. I don't know if it's because I've had to be ready to face it before or... maybe just the impetuousness of youth; it feels unnatural to be worried about dying so young. I still have way more days ahead than behind."

"Even though you have no specific plans for those days?" she rhetorically asked.

"Well, I... huh." It was a fair point. Nothing to regret dying before, but also nothing specific to live for either. Why the fearlessness, then? Apathy which didn't care to see what tomorrow brings? Or maybe, contentment which simply was happy with what yesterday had? "Do you think... I mean, I've always had it pretty good in my opinion, as far as life goes. I feel pretty confidently I could say I've tasted real happiness before. So, do you think that has something to do with it? Like, 'if it happens, it happens. I can't complain.'"

A certain amount of understanding radiated off the Princess, as well as a strong sense of familiarity. "Regrets are very powerful," she directly told him. "And very controlling. The pain and remorse can cling on to the deepest parts of you. And while that can spur you on and drive you to accomplishment or betterment, it can also deny rest or peace. So, yes, if you can master your regrets it can help you be at peace."

He could feel her retrospection. Feel her inward gaze fixated upon something old. It had been so clearly leaking out in bits and pieces since seeing her again. If a person is built from their limited lifetime of experiences... what is someone so long-lived built from? "... What about you?" he asked in nearly a whisper. "Do you fear death? Not so much, because of your lifespan? Or MORE, because of it?"

Following a flooded silence, her words came out very choice and deliberate: "I do have regrets."

"And not the time to address them?"

"Time is not everything," she said in tender solemnity, "and occasionally... it's nothing."

Though almost afraid it would be too intrusive a question, James asked, "... Was it some pony that you lost?"

The distant and pained memories, the scars of something unpleasant, didn't disappear from her, but still Princess Celestia smiled at him with a safe degree of comfort. "Many wonderful ponies have passed in my time," she said securely to him. "I suppose... that is one of the grievances that those humans who are against extended life have?"

"Yes, definitely," he confirmed. There wasn't a more repeated negative theme in immortal fiction that he could imagine. "To carry on when everything else, and everyone else, passes on. To be unchanging in an ever changing world. There are even stories where immortality is explicitly laid upon someone as a punishment."

"Am I really unchanging?" she suggested.

"I don't know," he rubbed his temple, "I guess not if you're implying you're not."

"Forget what I imply," she directed. "What do you believe?"

With a bit of a resigned sigh, he put his mind to work and shortly concluded, "I've still learned and experienced new things even after becoming a grown adult, and I've known even older people who've kept up the same. So, if it doesn't stop when 'growing up', there's no reason to believe that should stop past a natural lifespan either."

But that didn't feel conclusive enough. That was a very selfish way of thinking about it. Most lives inevitably end up intertwined with others' and that was the true heart of the concern. He started to say to her, "But... I mean, the real fear of it is not... being unchanging, but that... that the losses in life compound. Others that you care about... go. And you never want to feel..." Word by word, his voice gradually succumbed to silence. This had started as such an intriguing topic but every path he had taken had somehow turned back around... His strength to continue waned.

Immensely understanding, the Princess said, "And it's plain to see why some would feel that way. Nopony is immune to loss. But to believe that those losses should be enough to stop one from carrying on... that assumption comes from a false place."

"How do you deal with it?" James weakly questioned.

Her horn lit up with a glow like sunlight and a heavy album was drawn from a nearby bookshelf. She held it low before herself, tilted to the side so that the man might also see it while she cycled through the pages. It was filled with drawings, paintings, and occasional photographs, of many ponies with a seemingly infinite diversity. Some of the pictures were quite aged and well taken care of, and all were arranged with pride in this assorted scrapbook of love. "I have known so many incredible, talented, fascinating, and admirable ponies over the course of my life. I will never forget a single one of them and I will always miss them," she resoundingly insisted, but continued, "but I do not dwell forever on their departure. Or let the grief hold me back. How many more inspiring ponies are out there to meet? How many amazing ponies have yet to even be born? I want to meet them all."

A fresh page came up that had a relatively recent photograph of a young, eager unicorn filly with sparkling, wide eyes. Beaming, the tiny horse gazed upon her newly stamped starburst cutie mark with ready pride, all the while earnestly looking forward to something yet to come. The Princess let out a fond, joyful breath upon seeing the picture, and she told James, "Like this one here. My faithful student. If I had let my past losses frighten me from making new friendships, I would never have met Twilight Sparkle. Even though as time marches ever on I find traits in others that repeat, she, like all ponies, is still unique in her own ways and she is a special spirit that I'm proud to have the chance to know."

Somewhat uncertain, he asked in confusion, "You... replace the friends you lose?"

"Replace? No. I'll never let go of the best of what all my little ponies have given me," she clarified. "But I can't let the sadness that comes with their passing paralyze me. I don't want my heart to be so closed, and love is not so limited a resource. I can't forget the unrestrained happiness I've felt from all the friends I've met and I know future friends can provide even more. Always remember that if you don't give up then the losses and pains, even added up, do not outweigh the joys and gains."

The Princess turned her scrapbook fully towards herself, easing through the pages again with a great warmness. James sat low and quiet before eventually saying, "Well... that's a profound thing to think about. Coming from someone who has actually lived it anyway." He felt her eyes fall upon him again. "I'm not immortal, though. So I think it doesn't really apply to me very much."

"It doesn't? Or did you want to say it couldn't?" she replied, yet again firing out a leading question.

He once more stared at her in a deliberate way, quipping, "You really like the whole 'speaking mostly in questions' thing."

"Do I?"

"Yes."

"Are there other ways to get answers?"

"Yes."

"Such as?"

At this point he knew enough to stop. He only bobbed his head, rolled his tongue across the front of his teeth, and snorted a small laugh.

With the daintiest sort of pride in her silly victory, the Princess held her head up before explaining, "I think questions are the only form of speech that always invite a response."

"Well, you ask too many questions and you'll start inviting other things as well," he remarked.

"Oh, you seem more amused by it than frustrated," she smiled back.

"Frustrated in an amused sort of way, maybe," he retorted, upbeat, to the delightful grin of the Princess. "So, is this what happens when you live long enough to collect all that knowledge and wisdom? You get really coy and cagey?"

"Of course not," she responded, then with a sly wink, "that comes from something else entirely."

"Which is?" he asked, fully expecting her to respond with another teasing question.

She did not let him down. "Would you say it's more valuable to be given an answer or to understand what is the right question?"

James juggled with his hands, stating, "And that's the trouble with really wise types. Give them a question and they'll somehow get away with answering 'yes' and 'no' simultaneously."

"Or, perhaps, does the trouble lie in you believing that you need either a 'yes' or a 'no?'" she queried.

He waved his hand like he was brushing away dust, a sort of innocent 'stop that' motion. But with her continued insistence on this approach he was being slowly reminded of something. A past element pushed more and more to the front of his mind. For the Princess's part, she could immediately tell that there was some story bubbling up in him, just on the edge of spilling over. She leaned in to demonstrate herself a willing audience and encourage it out of him.

After only an instant, he gave up resistance with a sigh. He looked away from her slightly and started to spin his short tale: "Growing up, I always used to get really upset with my dad because whenever I went to him for help with anything he would never give me a solution. He'd never show me the answer. He'd do absolutely everything he could to avoid solving things for me. He'd always try to show me the next step in the road so I could take it myself, but he'd never just give it to me. So... don't think for a second that I don't know what you're trying to do."

"Ah, so you do understand," Princess Celestia said grinning.

"Well, yeah, but... what I'm trying to say is... you know, be careful," he warned dimly. "Cause while I do understand NOW, for a long, long time the only lesson I had learned from the experience was: never go to my dad for help, cause he won't."

She pulled her head back with some surprise, giving great consideration to what he had said. Stuck on something, she asked him for verification, "But you know now that's not true?"

"Yeah. I mean, he's my dad, I'd love him forever anyway. But I did get older and wiser and figured out what he was doing. And when I had to go off and live on my own and be my own man, I especially realized that, in truth, he loved me and would do anything for me. And that's kind of what he had always been trying to do... risk frustrating and alienating a little boy that he loved so much just so the squirt might learn something really valuable." But a doubtful darkness lingered inside James, draped in shades of regret. He told the Princess with caution, "Just... be careful. Cause no matter how it turned out in the end, there was a real count of years there that... no matter how much I liked my dad in general... my actual honest opinion of him was that I couldn't rely on him for anything."

He was almost startled with how she actually seemed to weigh his words with some value. There was something in it all that she could relate to. Again, as had been happening all day, a history flashed behind her eyes while she pondered. With things having reached the point they had now, James felt there was no reason, not even politeness anymore, to hold back. He interrupted her musing, earnestly accusing her, "All this... stuff going on in Hamestown, that you're sending the others to investigate... you KNOW something."

She glared back at him, not with a hostile suspicion or guilt under threat, but more intrigued by how precisely he had picked up on it and by where he might take it.

He continued, "You know something you're not giving up about it. You didn't tell the girls everything."

"I didn't?" she lead him on.

"Okay, that makes it obvious. What aren't you telling them?" It seemed like she would respond, but he could see the way her eyes rose up like she was about to ask another question and he forcefully jumped in first, "You're going to say something wishy-washy like, 'Do they really need to know?' But I'm not asking about them. I want to know what you aren't telling them, and why."

The Princess nodded. Slow, but certain, she answered, "I believe there are things there that will be more important for them to discover for themselves."

"But isn't that dangerous?" protested James. "I mean, sink or swim, sure, you're going to get many who rise up and get things done out of necessity but... sooner or later... somebody is going to drown."

Her words poured out, motherly, gentle and strong: "I have faith in them. I do not say that because I want to blind myself to the dangers or risks that they take. I do not enjoy seeing them at risk, no matter how much it lifts my heart to see them overcome it. I have faith in them because I must; because I've seen them tested before and they overcame. Because it's for the best of all that I accept that I cannot always guard them against every risk they'll face and," she gestured to herself while repeating her earlier words, "one pony alone cannot bear the world on their back. Like any pony, I make the best decisions I can. And I hope they are the right ones."

They quieted again while the Princess gave one final glance to her scrapbook before putting it away. She observed the silenced man who, despite having had grown easy enough to converse with her honestly and openly, was still steeped in doubt with tenser, hidden things within. Her long, long years of life had left her with a highly tuned judge of character that she always trusted just enough, and after today she felt safe that she hadn't see anything that betrayed her initial assessment of him. Out of the ether he had come, from a land of dark possibilities bearing what could be wicked portents. But their first conversation that night had given her a sense of immediate relief. She had seen then, as plain as the sun to her, that someone who lives somewhere thick with potential darkness will, quite naturally, be able to carry a light.

Pleased with there being no change in her judgment of him and feeling more safe than ever in his being attached to her faithful student, she offered, "If you have such concerns for what they'll face... why don't you go with them?"

"What?" he said, doubtful he had heard her suggestion correctly.

"Surely if you're prepared enough to expect the unexpected, they could benefit from your assistance?" she pressed with her trickiness at full play.

"That's not really how that would work... and... I hardly know anything about Equestria anyway so what would you expect me to even contribute?" he objected heavily. "Besides, you were more than willing to send them without me so you already believe they don't need me. And don't give me any kind of detailless 'I trust you' thing about it."

She nearly laughed at how much he seemed to rally against it, saying to him, "I hardly believe you'd go to the trouble of intentionally sabotaging their efforts." She also added with an honest if cheeky smile, "And just so this is clear, I do trust you."

"Intentionally sabotage...," James whispered before asking, "and what about accidentally?"

"Even better that you seem to know enough to expect that too!" the Princess joked. But when it was clear how grave he was being about it she immediately sobered up and revealed seriously, "I know there are other reasons you don't want to go."

Rising up to her hooves, she said, "I won't make any demands of you. The choice is yours, and it's important to me that it remains yours. You'll be welcome to stay here in the castle while they're away, if you should like. But please, do give the matter some consideration."

Looking away again, and with hushed words, he responded, "Perhaps..."

"Perhaps," the Princess repeated with curiosity yet again. She turned and walked out of the room, but briefly she stopped at the door to say only, "You certainly do like to leave a lot of possibilities forever open. When do you choose to close any of them?"

Author's Note

James' mention of "And that's the trouble with really wise types. Give them a question and they'll somehow get away with answering 'yes' and 'no' simultaneously," is in homage to The Lord of the Rings. Frodo says something very similar to Gildor, and Tolkien's witty take on the wisdom cliché is just so perfect that I couldn't ever hope to supplant it.

Chapter 9: Escape

James stood and looked over the study in lonely silence. He let the time pass as one politely would when unsupervised in the home of another, idly investigating the arrangement on the table, running his eyes across the shelved books, or just slowly dragging his feet along the length of the carpet. He explored the space but also exercised the respectful caution of wanting to leave everything the way it was found. Secretly he did this because he hoped that Princess Celestia WOULD return.

A lot had been given to him through their conversation. In a different time, and especially a different place, he would have called it an edifying and enlightening discussion. What person has ever had the chance to chat with an immortal (or whatever form her extended life took?) He had only barely begun to pick her brain when a blow had been struck to his will. Even what should have been a rare, magical opportunity somehow had gotten turned around to be about his darker elements again. He hadn't even tried for it. He didn't want to have tried for it. But somehow what he had thought was a frivolous examination of the long life of a pony princess had still been able to twist and contort itself into barbs that had stung at the lost man. What was perhaps worse though was the lack of a simple scapegoat. With Twilight it had been easy to lay blame upon the pressure the unicorn had tried to leverage over him, but the Princess somehow had only ever intimately felt like a source of support. This time, the wounding sensation was like he had been stabbed from the dark.

Oh, he wished so badly that she would come back and speak with him again! About anything. He wished that he hadn't surrendered the bag with his books to the guards upon disembarking from the train so that he could have pulled out some reading material now. He wished that pointlessly wandering the room would actually do something to shut off his mind instead of having the sights pass by his searching eyes unseen. It was too late. The still solitude which followed the conversation's invocation brought it all back out. Radios screeched a dozen transmissions he didn't want to hear from every corner of his thoughts.

The Princess wanted him to go with the ponies on this special mission of theirs? Or, rather, she had 'invited' him to make his own choice on going, but how had it been anything but an implied request? A subtle manipulation that came from one who has had far too many years to practice getting exactly what she wanted from others in the least demanding of ways. No, don't think of her like that; she had spared him originally because compassion was a core value of this world. She makes the best decisions that she can make, like anybody else. Wait, were those HIS thoughts? She had been the one who had told him that...

Regardless, how could the choice to go with the others be anything but a terrible idea? If the situation was everything it appeared to be on the surface (which the Princess had essentially admitted it wasn't), he still had no ability to talk to animals like Fluttershy or even much in the way of training to deal with wild critters. The worst he could safely and securely handle was domestic rabbits. What use would he be? And as for whatever secrets laid in wait out there... again, what good could he possibly do? His now very apparent lack of function in this world stood to do way more harm than good. He hadn't even been able to control a conversation enough to keep himself from having roused this chaos which was tearing him apart.

Equestria could have been an incredible opportunity if it were an opportunity that he had chosen. But he hadn't. And now he was waist deep in ponies and everywhere there were requests for him to sink deeper. Talk with me, go to the spa more, come see Rocky, sing a song and bake cookies with me, go speak with Princess Luna, throw yourself senselessly into a crazy situation you don't know anything about and couldn't possibly do anything about. No! No, damn it! No escape anywhere. Even when he would walk down the street there was a piercing stare from every pony that passed by. Why couldn't the ever-turning world just come to a stand still?

Time. Time! More time! Let the sun rise and let the night fall but let nothing come to pass in between! Give him the time to deal with it all! Gone! It's all gone! But he hadn't disappeared with it. Too much at once. Far, far too much at once. Time. To deal with it in time...

The Princess had all the time she could ever want. What had she said? She survived by living through a recurring cycle of gain and loss. Things kept being torn away but replacements kept coming in. No. She had said she never forgot all the sweetnesses that came with loving something. But how was that possible without the sorrow? The crumbled bridges, no matter how lovely they once were, became stained and pained in memoriam. He hated these thoughts. More time! Things were sad right now but wounds heal in time. Happy days and sad days both pass. The pain would fade... somehow... even though the entire support network that had been built over his lifetime was now gone. Wounds heal in time.

Infections spread in time.

Go to Mom; Dad's never going to help. This dumb thing looks like it's made out of a table cloth. Breathe, aim, breathe, squeeze, breathe. Magic could be just another force in this universe, like gravity. It was a really sad day when Waterblast Park closed down. An immortal, winged, rainbow-haired pony princess? There was hardly a more perfect evening than no homework and just snuggling up with the rabbit. Didn't know little squirrels could be so adorable. Some have to fight; that's the way the world works. To actually tell the truth, it's kind of an embarrassing singing voice. Everybody likes attention but being at the center of it can get a little overwhelming. Pretty impressive how they can throw a dart without fingers! Not really nervous to give the speech, no, just got to get up there and do what has to be done. "If you're upset or sad... we can work together to make you feel better! Everything will be alright." "I'M FINE!!"

Shut up!

James gripped the edge of a nearby table and nearly tossed it up and over. The heavy slap of his hand against the wood, backed by the ink bottle on the table clanking with the vibration, rebounded like the smashing of glass in a quiet room. He rubbed his face and breathed hard before he suddenly turned and strode painfully out of the room, back into the hall. Making no distinctions, he picked one direction at random and walked.

If the choice to go to Hamestown with the others really was his, then he chose not to go. And there was nothing Princess Celestia could do about it if she was being honest.

Every time he came to a junction he would turn one way without looking down the other. Sometimes he glanced into the rooms he walked by, sometimes not. If there were stairs, he descended. Now and again there was a posted guard whom he would breeze by but, like a stalwart soldier, none of them ever so much as flinched. Much better than the townsponies, he felt.

Eventually he stumbled upon a large ballroom that triggered a loose familiarity. He swiftly crossed the expansive chamber to the glass walls on the far side. Much like with the balcony from the study, they doubled as doors to the outdoors, and he carefully opened one up and passed into the gardens.

He remembered these grounds, having had spent a good portion of his first full day in Equestria here while waiting to be brought over to Ponyville. In the mere two weeks time of his absence, the fullness of autumn had claimed the land. The trees, though now bearing dying leaves, were more lively and vibrant with their dazzling palette of colors. The hedges and flower beds were still well maintained but the gardeners had put in the effort to arrange and decorate as needed to reflect the change of seasons. The sun had lowered close enough to tickle the horizon, spreading an orange and red in the sky which matched the earth, and the whole place embodied a complete, picturesque serenity.

James slowed his pace down to a crawl, gently moving amongst the bushes, beds, stones, and statues that made up the small paradise while he tried to settle his breathing. It was somewhat as if the physical act of fleeing had an odd calming effect. Maybe it was the expenditure of energy, venting his feelings as exertion, or maybe it was just the change of surroundings, but things seemed more manageable. He was still worked up but at least he felt more in line and in control. The beating of the hammers inside his head didn't strike as mercilessly and the rush of sound and memory was more washed out and ignorable.

The many statues that dotted the gardens caught his attention as a worthy way to settle his mind and he moved towards the largest cluster of them. They were mostly all of ponies, some in clothes, some without. Many varied subjects in many varied poses and in many varied styles. Even the bases of any two statues were rarely similar. Many of the works were probably made by different sculptors, put in at different times. It was clear these statues weren't laid out according to some gardener's grand design; they weren't fancy lawn ornaments precisely planted so as to maximize the afternoon stroll aesthetics. They had to have been installed for another reason. The man wondered: so many different ponies... perhaps these statues were part of Princess Celestia's memories? At least she got to keep mementos.

He slapped himself once and refocused on looking over the statues. One was a robed pony, staring up in the sky, full of curiosity and wonder. There was a statue of a wise and old unicorn with a big, poofy wizard's hat that had bells hanging from it. Another was a sitting pegasus clothed in a strange outfit with a feathered beret, holding a lyre which was quite clearly dear to the stone pony. And then there was one that was made of three ponies; a mare which supported two more on her back in some sort of frozen acrobatic scene. Strange, eclectic, and unique.

There was a particular statue that he stopped in front of merely because of how much it differed from the others. A single pedestal held up two entities who faced each other, unmistakably at odds. There was no elaborating markings or plaques on the base whatsoever, but still the figures told a story.

On the left was a unicorn stallion who was definitely one of the Royal Guard, by his armor. Even through the stonework, his passion, intensity, and dedication could be seen as he stood ready against his opposite. But unusually, instead of being in a position to launch an attack or defend himself from one, he had the broad side of his flank exposed to his enemy. Flat and wide, he was left vulnerable, having only his head turned to keep his defiant stare going. He was maximizing his profile... to protect something, maybe?

On the right was a wicked, lizard beast. Most probably a dragon, though far more brutal and nasty looking than Spike. The figure was composed only of some neck and the head of the monster; the stone dragon bore a good resemblance to a chess knight which was ready to leap and capture a piece. Masterful carving had left defined scales that came to sharp points all flowing in the same direction, like a body of swords. Thick, heavy-looking spines ran up his back like the teeth of gears. His bladed teeth themselves were barely separated in his partially agape mouth, making a cage which held his forked tongue prisoner. A black glow could almost be seen bubbling up in his throat, like a dark fire ready to spew and consume the noble guard. And the sharp eyes were left mysteriously undetailed, leaving to the imagination whatever bloodshot or otherwise frightening stare the beast had.

Most unusual of all were the dragon's horns. Horns on a dragon seemed appropriate enough, even if Spike didn't have any (not that James worked with a great sample size or extensive knowledge of dragon biology.) The trouble with this statue was... there were three horns. Two horns sat where would be expected, jutting out symmetrically and upwards from the top sides of his skull, with slight curves and deadly points. But there was a third horn, with a bit of a crooked spiral, that emerged straight from his forehead, much like a unicorn.

Standing before the figures, the natural questions occurred to James. Who were they? Why were they opposed? What happened to them? When? The stone gave no direct answers. It only invited the observer to imagine their own.

"It's not uncommon for some of these to be left to oral history."

He was conflicted about hearing her voice but he still turned halfway to face Twilight. She kept her distance from him, standing next to a stone bench which rested under a small tree. In addition, she carried several books of all sizes with her, some drifting through the air in stacks and others balanced on her back.

She fumbled with her words as she continued to try and break the ice. "Craftsponies get their works placed in the gardens under all kinds of circumstances. Sometimes they're commissioned, sometimes the sculptors are invited for art fairs, sometimes works are donated anonymously. If whoever made them, or requested them made, didn't feel like labeling the pieces... then the true story only lies with them."

Twilight had been passing through the castle after her trip to library when she had incidentally caught sight of him in the gardens through a window. Taken with dilemma, she had fought with herself about going down to him. She meant what she had said to her friends about not confronting him, and she had no plans to betray that. But she also had a compulsion to know what exactly he had spoken to Princess Celestia about. In that regard, her tragic and hopeless worries, and her fears about herself, were mostly suppressed. So when she had at last decided to go down and speak with him she had kept reminding and reinforcing herself that learning about his conversation with the Princess was all about understanding his position and situation. It was to benefit him.

Wary of her, James didn't respond immediately. All his imagination and instinct believed she was here just to make him feel uncomfortable again. That her stubborn and overbearing parts sought once more to gain control. But there was enough of the Princess's goodwill and wisdom lingering in him to raise his doubts and that let him summon up his social manners. It reminded him how, no manner how willing he was to defend himself, he didn't enjoy being a villain. While certainly far from enthusiastic or engaged, he at least tried to be fair to her with his voice while he pointed to the statue before him and asked, "What's this one's story?"

She was immediately thankful to not have been turned away and, perking up, she answered truthfully, "I don't know. I don't think I've ever heard it."

A dull silenced followed. "What're the books for?" James eventually asked.

"Oh, I was in the castle library checking out every book that I thought might be useful for the task in Hamestown." She floated the many tomes in front of herself to display them to him while enumerating, "Atlases, explorers' accounts, historical works about the area, lore and legends, geologic surveys, collections of reports and letters from the settlers, and more." As she showed off each book, she laid them down in neat piles on the bench, hoping that she was invited enough to leave them there for awhile.

"I see," he said. Once he got a good look at the massive group of texts taking up bench space like they were a sitting person, he remarked, "Going to be burning the midnight oil tonight?"

"Not so much, no," she responded, explaining, "The train ride out there will take awhile, so I'll have time to dig through them then. I just played it safe and grabbed everything I could. Better to have too much than too little."

He gave a weak shrug in agreement but offered no more. He didn't want to directly push her away unless she provoked it but he wasn't really here to talk with her either.

Twilight endured the silence and watched him. She wanted to be as careful as possible in approaching the topic of the Princess but, as usual, she found him difficult to read and could not discern if this was the right moment or if there ever would be a right moment. Tiptoeing with her voice, she blurted out a nervous joke, "So... I guess you survived your encounter with the Princess, hehe."

"Yeah." He was removed, simple, and direct.

She had hoped for something more from him. "Aheh... hehe... that's... yeah, she's actually pretty great. It can just be a little... harrowing... being under her scrutiny though. I mean, she's PRINCESS CELESTIA." The unicorn unconvincingly coughed to clear her throat and tried again, "So, I hope... it didn't go badly or anything?"

"No, we just chatted," he replied, again tersely.

"Oh." As frustrating as the lack of information was, hearing that short report was a relief. Only it kind of wasn't. Just chatted? The Princess hadn't noticed anything amiss to confront him about? She hadn't questioned him thoroughly about everything that had gone on in the past two weeks? Trepidatious, Twilight pressed, "About what?"

James could feel her positioning her shovel and he soured. He wanted to believe this was indeed just another, if more indirect and underhanded, attempt by the pony to bring up things that weren't hers to bring up. With a gentle rudeness, he tried to shut her down, "Stuff. It was a private conversation."

"I see," she mumbled apologetically. "I didn't mean-" to pry? That's a laugh. That was exactly what she was trying to do. This was going wrong. She felt it would be best that she respect him and stop digging now. Only, in her mild nervousness and worry, a tiny voice within her shouted and pleaded to squeeze just a smidgen more out of him if possible and helplessly she asked, "... Did the Princess mention me at all?"

His shoulder grew colder but he acknowledged her with a minuscule nod and bare minimum shrug before he falsely turned his attention back to the statue in the hope that she would get the message.

She regretted her selfish extraction from him so much that she actually didn't worry and wonder about whatever the Princess may have said about her. Going in, she had been determined that this was about recovering information so as to help him, but here she was helping herself after she had run into a brick wall. Her thoughts had started out good but she had been right earlier. This wasn't the time to be helping him, for exactly the same reasons she had given Rainbow Dash and Applejack. She should back off and wait for a better time, when she had her friends with her. Like Sidlesong in "Shadow of a Pony's Heart," this was going to be about coming together with the best her friends could give to overcome an obstacle.

But after what she had just done, she couldn't leave him standing here.

"There's something I'd like to say, very quickly, if that's alright," she requested. "Nothing... nothing confrontational."

He gave no permissions but he didn't object either. He hardly moved at all.

"I'm not going to ask how you are because I know what you'll say," she stated. "And... I'm sorry if my behavior has been upsetting you. I don't want to hurt anypony. But I really am just trying my best to help. I don't want to drive you away because... I want to be available, if you need me. I hope you understand that," she pleaded softly. Although she looked for signs that her words were getting through, he simply wasn't a book that she could read, especially when he shut himself off like this. She continued, "Whatever it is that you're facing... dealing with it however it is you are... if that's... if that's what you HAVE to do, please understand... that caring and trying to help is what I have to do. But I don't want to make things worse, either..."

What resonated with James was how lost she sounded. The Princess's words came to his recall: she didn't always have the answers. She was a student. A learner. Not one who knew so many things but one who sought out things to know. One who usually didn't have answers but who understood a lot about questions. One for whom not knowing was a common occurrence even if it didn't always feel good. He almost twitched with the sympathy that wiggled inside him. He could understand her feelings of being unguided, and confused, and without direction.

Lacking much volume, but also without any resentment or hostility, he said to her, "Well... thanks. I appreciate it."

Twilight picked herself up with an easy smile and began gathering her books. "I guess you'll be staying here when we head out?" she assumed.

"Yeah. The Princess offered a room."

"Oh, good. I mean, I thought she would," the unicorn nodded. Carefully depositing a stack of tomes on her back and double-checking that she had the rest levitating near her, she distractedly rambled, "Well... I guess that'll give you a chance to... spend some quality... quiet time with yourself, right? Eheh..." He didn't seem to react to her and she shook her head vigorously to try and dislodge the senseless sentences that were coming out of her.

More assured, she told him, "We won't be gone all that long, I think. It's probably going to take more time just to get out there than it is to have Fluttershy negotiate with some misbehaving animals."

James' eyes picked up and shot back to her, catching her presumption that everything the Princess had told her about the situation was the limits of the truth. He pondered for a few moments over what he knew and the things the Princess had revealed to him. Then he lowered his eyes back down and said, "Yeah. Good luck with everything." It wasn't his business, no more than his was hers.

"Thanks," she accepted. "Have a good night."

"Night."

She departed, books in tow, returning to the castle.

Alone in the garden again, James suddenly found his breathing labored once more. Again he wished for distraction, even lamenting Twilight's departure. Though, that final comment of her's... "quality, quiet time with yourself." He shook as the noise and pressure increased from all directions. Placing his forearm along the dragon statue, he rested against it as he tried, struggled even, to bring the mental assault under control. It was a challenge to even maintain a handle on his sporadic breathes. Eventually he threw his eyes against his arm and cried quietly.

"... Oh God..."

The herd of pony friends (and ever attendant dragon) were gathered bright and early at the train station for the second day in a row. The Canterlot station was larger and more regal than the rural Ponyville one in order to accommodate the greater flow of traffic that came through such a central city. But between the early sun-skimmed hour and being on a more remote platform, it was again going to be a lightly populated departure.

Spike tried his very best to be a bellhop for Rarity, carrying a multitude of bags that together were more than his own size. The tower he hauled about wobbled while he checked on the last of his gems that were sequestered away in one of her bags, as the bag he had shared with James earlier had been left behind with the man.

The ponies, meanwhile, took at good look at the train that was being prepared for their trip. It was no elegantly designed hometown train; this gorgeous and stunning series of cars was masterful and royal in all ways. Gold trims and designs ran the length of the silvery engine, right up to the chimney which resembled a ceremoniously decorated torch. The whistle head was actually shaped like a tweeting bird! The carriages were no less glamorous. Broad, long, silver cars which bore windows and roofs that were framed with gold, jewels, and gems. Even the couplings between the cars shimmered. There were wide eyes and gaping mouths all around.

Applejack whistled smoothly before she exclaimed, "Well, I'll be a donkey's uncle! We usually don't ride around in such style!"

Blitzing across the length of the train, Rainbow Dash was losing control of her excitement as she looked over the carriages and peeked into all the windows. "Oh awesome-awesome-awesome. These are like... VIP cars!" she gasped. "We get individual rooms and everything!"

Twilight giggled. She was perhaps the least outwardly animated of the ponies but only because she had known ahead of time what to expect. On the inside, she was just as enthused as the rest of them. "And a kitchen car, and a dining car...," she listed, to entice the others.

"Oh my!" Fluttershy let out. She turned to a restless, bounding Pinkie Pie. "This is so exciting!"

"Ahhh! I know, I know!" the exuberant, pink pony screamed back while she skipped in place. A kitchen car? That was like... you could bake cookies... but on a moving train! And then they'd be like normal cookies... BUT ON A MOVING TRAIN! "Ahhhhh!"

"It's so generous of the Princess to get us aboard such high class transportation," Rarity observed, shaking while she barely retained her calm. "I do hope it isn't going to be terribly crowded; I should very much like the chance to enjoy such a refined travel experience without distractions."

"Haha, Rarity!" Twilight called, "this is a private train! And we're heading out to a remote corner of Equestria on the official business of Princess Celestia. We're going to be the only passengers."

The seamstress's walls crumbled. "Oh. My. Goodness. Do you mean to say... WE'RE the only Very Important Ponies who get to ride this VIP train?"

"Sure do!" Twilight gaily responded. "Aside from the staff I suppose."

"Ooohhh!" Rarity swooned. Her hoof came flying up against her tilted forehead and she dreamily moaned, "I'll never be able to ride public rail again!"

Uncontrollable chatter broke out amongst them as they all excitedly talked to each other at once. Imaginations soared with fantasies of what was assuredly the most queenly way to travel. Any theorized experience of adored travel that one of them would suggest another would top by adding on even more wishful, marvelous luxuries.

Trying to be mindful of the big picture, Twilight had to work extra hard to keep a lid on her own lively spirit and bring her friends in line. "Alright! Get comfortable everypony! Because it's going to a bit of a trip out there!" she revealed to them. "Nearly two days, in fact! We have an overnight stay on the train and then we should arrive in Hamestown the following night."

There were no objections or concerns from the group as they were more than thrilled to have so much time on this train. Again the crossfire of blazing conversation erupted, having lost no ground from where it had left off. They seized up their bags, waiting anxiously and eagerly to board.

When that hyped, magical time came so close that the air felt charged with electricity, there was an unexpected tapping noise that came from behind. It quickly grew louder, into a stomping, before one of the station doors burst open.

"Wait!"

James came dashing across the platform to them, sweating after the long, scrambled run from the castle. His perspiration and stern breathing masked the heavy bags under his eyes and other clear signs of poor sleep, devoid of rest. The bag with his things dangled from a strap slung on his shoulder, the body crashing against him repeatedly as he ran.

"I'm coming too," he insisted when he caught up with them.

The others were understandably surprised but for half of them it wasn't at all an unwelcome development. There were general smiles and hearty greetings from those. But Applejack, Rainbow Dash, and especially Twilight gave more uncertain stares. The unicorn recalled how just yesterday he had confirmed for her that he wouldn't be joining them. She approached with thick skepticism, and with a cocked head and uncertain voice she questioned, "You're coming with us? Why?"

He couldn't match eye contact with her and searched through his bag instead, ensuring that he had managed to grab everything when he had rushed out. Walking the bizarre, uncertain line between truth and falsehood, he answered in an odd tone, "Princess Celestia asked me to. Basically..."

"She did?"

"Yeah... more or less..." He could only bring his eyes up in short, stolen, nervous glances.

Twilight bit her lip. The avoidance of the raw truth could be felt, but so could the absence of overt deception. The Princess did have a hoof in this... somehow. In addition, the unicorn didn't exactly have an objection to his inclusion, but that came more from not knowing at all whether she should be objecting or not. She hadn't permitted him to go into the Everfree Forest in the past but this was a decidedly less dangerous matter. Her prediction was that there was hardly going to be much of anything for any of them to do, save Fluttershy.

As if he could read her mind, James shifted the opening in his bag down to show her the contents and said, "Look, I've got the books and everything. If it comes down to me not being needed, which I think we both agree is likely, I'll just sit back and read. And then it'd pretty much be no different than if I stayed here, right?"

She couldn't reply with anything but an unsure, "I guess..."

"At least... I'd be there...," he encouraged.

Another exchange of doubting looks occurred between her, Rainbow Dash, and Applejack. The pegasus took this as another reason to stir up old suspicions and she wondered what might come from the group confronting him in the limited space of the train.

But the farm pony was the first to break. She curled her mouth up and heaved her shoulders, taking this development simply as it was. Moving before the man and hailing a hoof, she stated, "Well, the more the merrier, I say! Mighty fine to have you along, Beanstalk! Feels good to stretch your legs and go places, don't it?"

Chapter 10: Expectation

The chug and chunk of the rolling train didn't sound any different from other trains while inside it but many of the passengers were too wrapped up in exploring the amenities to notice. The engine hauled them steadily down lesser traveled tracks and towards more remote parts of Equestria, descending from the mountains of Canterlot and charging across windswept plains. Through the windows, the waving grass stretched off to the blurred horizons on both sides of the tracks, bringing an isolation to the cozy, upscale carriages.

Not every guest probed the depths of their ride. Twilight immediately realized that the public space's first class seating, with its provided tables and booths, was a spacious enough place to set down her many rented books. In short order she got to work and began dissecting them and scrawling notes on a long roll of parchment. Helpful Spike, ever doting, offered his assistance and picked through some of the books, relaying anything he thought she would find noteworthy. James elected not to retreat to his private room at first. Staying in the public seating, he focused on the passing scenery and hoped its hypnotic motion might help him recover some of his lost rest. However, even tired, he couldn't quite fall asleep with the excited scampering of the others occasionally rushing through the car on their way to another part of the train. Sometimes they made quick stops and held short conversations, with or without him, and when he was invited to participate he did so as agreeably as he could manage. Lastly, because James had stayed in the car, Rainbow Dash in turn also found a seat elsewhere and pretended to rest, though she would stare longingly at the others as they came racing through with laughs and smiles.

After about a little more than an hour, the man accepted that the occasional commotion wasn't doing him any good, nor was his immediate presence helpful to anybody else. Wordlessly he left for one of the two cars with private quarters. In a thin hall with rows of sliding doors on either side, he found the room he had dropped his bag in upon boarding and slid the door open. The room was nothing fancy by its selection of furnishings: a thin bed, a long and cushioned seat that curved around a squat table in one corner, a shallow closet, and a window with an ever-changing view. Each individual facet was of course done up to be as impressive as it could be, with immaculate carvings in the wood, precious stones adorning the window, and more, but at its heart it was a simple room.

He eased down on the seating and fruitlessly tried to decide if he had made the right choice in tagging along. Contrary to what Princess Celestia might have suggested, it certainly wasn't to the others' benefit that he be present; it was too much of a gamble that he wouldn't understand enough of the pony world and culture to avoid causing trouble if he tried to intervene. The most he hoped to do was stand aside and dodge being troublesome. He had never agreed with the Princess's take on it. No, he had changed his mind in order to make a selfish retreat. The days had been passing one by one in Ponyville without much pain so long as he had kept his head down or his nose in something relatively irrelevant. It was only in the past few days that the safety of his unconsciously and impulsively selected ignorance had begun crumbling. He was never able to be too cognizant of all the painful things in his heart because the more he tried to bring his thoughts around to it, the more agony he inflicted upon himself until he backed away fearfully. It had gotten worse in Canterlot. Somewhere inside himself, knowingly or not, he had come to believe that in being left behind, without the release of distractions, his anguish would consume him.

The soothing bubble of uninformed hope, his constant telling himself that his pain and loss was no different than any other experience of tragedy he had previously had in his life, his unsupported belief that it could be ignored until it went away, his imagination that he was handling it well enough by stretching the emotions until they became imperceptibly thin... that bubble, surrounded by the comforts of books and oddities and other diversions... it kept him going. He could go on as long as he was safe. And when darkness crept by all the distractions, when it penetrated his bubble, he didn't know what else to do but run. He felt safe running. And so, though his rationality had resolved not to go on this trip so he could protect the others from his inexperience, when the opportunity had come to keep running he had instinctively reversed his choice without ever himself realizing why.

Even as he sat there on the train his mind only briefly considered why he had decided to go. After a few swiftly generated excuses it became too much to bear and he dropped it, dismissing the matter as irrelevant. He was here now and there was no going back, so whatever.

Immediately he looked to what he should do to keep himself occupied. To have a rejuvenating nap would be ideal but nowadays even when he slept for a time he never felt rested anymore. The scene outside the window hadn't changed for a while; these plains probably went on for quite a distance. He supposed that he still had the books in his bag. Perhaps he could merely read until he got hungry enough to go get-

"Oh, hey, there you are," Rainbow Dash greeted from just beyond the still open doorway, feigning surprise.

James kicked himself once for not remembering to shut the door. Best see what she wanted now. "Hey," he returned as he shifted himself up in his seat. "What's up?"

"Nothing," she answered peculiarly. Her eyes refused to settle on him, glancing about, and she rambled with diverted attention, "Just... checking... what's up."

"Nothing," he repeated her.

"Oh. Cool. Nothing's cool."

He leered at her but she still didn't look straight back at him. "Is it now?" he asked, laid heavy with accusation.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, it totally is. I do nothing all the time," the evasive pegasus hastily generated.

James continued to stare without response as a silence fell between them. The unprepared Rainbow Dash didn't quite choke under the pressure of his gaze but the man couldn't tell if she honestly thought she was doing a good job with her improvisation.

At last, the pegasus tried again, hardly innovating, "So... what's up?"

"... Rainbow Dash... is there something you wanted?" he asked directly.

"Oh, uh, just... you know... haven't seen you for a while," she tried responding. As his look remained unconvinced, she added onto her words, though her voice choked a tiny bit, "I mean, since... like... yesterday?"

"You didn't see me for days at a time before that," he reminded her, starting to grow weary of their exchange.

"Yeah, well... that was... before, ah..." Her composure started to give as she struggled openly to come up with a plausible response. "Before... I knew... you..." She sprung up suddenly, hitting upon what clearly sounded to her like the most clever cover ever, "... LIKED TRAINS! How about this train, huh? Preeeetty awesome, right?"

Honestly, he had a hard time believing this was even happening. "Yeah, it's a classy train," he answered dryly.

"Yeah. And hey, I even heard some of the girls talking about a sauna car they have in the back." She came off as forceful and rushed when she invited, "Hey, here's a crazy idea. What do you say you and I give it a try? We could... uh... you know... sweat, and uh... whatever, and use the time to talk about-"

"No thanks," he quickly interrupted. "I'd really rather just read or something right now."

"Oh, okay, sure," she loosely accepted. But as the seconds ticked by, she didn't budge from the other side of the doorway, oblivious to his hint.

"By myself," he had to emphasize.

"Oh! Okay. Uh-"

James stood up, walked over to the door, and gripped the inverted handle. "Thanks for checking up on me. Later."

"Sure, no problem! But-"

He slide the door shut with one smooth pull. Turning back towards the room, he gazed up at the ceiling with a tired sigh. For a minute he stood there and tried to let the disturbance fade away while at the same time he laughed about it on the inside. What did she think she had been getting away with?

Eventually he picked up his bag, fished out his three books, and then tossed the satchel back onto the floor with a thud. He sat back down with the tomes and deliberated over which he should read. It wouldn't be bad to dive into the adventures of Sidlesong and her friends; to escape into that fantasy. Then again, maybe "A Brief History of Equestria" had some tidbit of information which could come in handy with-

Three rapid knocks came against his door.

For a moment he sat still. Not because he believed that if he did nothing the visitor would go away but because he was certain he knew who his visitor was and he scarcely believed she would try again so soon.

Another triplet of knocks rang.

Pushing himself up, he went and opened the door. And sure enough (unbelievably enough for him,) Rainbow Dash was there on the other side.

"Hey I thought I heard something in here, everything alright?" she rattled off quickly. She shoved a hoof in and took a step forward, pressing her face into the room and rapidly looked about. "Maybe I should-"

He moved into her way, blocking her entry, and demonstrated his doubt of her by questioning intently, "You heard a noise coming from an occupied room? What are the odds?"

With a sheepish smile, she asked innocently, "So... everything's alright then?"

"Yes. Thanks," he replied sternly before seizing the door handle.

"Wait!" she objected in a panic. "Uh... so... what... what're your plans?"

His grip tightened, but he asked, "Plans?"

"Yeah, uh, like... how're you going to spend the trip? What are you going to do when we get there? Things like that." The wishful pegasus began to lift another hoof, hoping to take another step in.

"I can't make any plans for there because first we'll have to assess the situation once we arrive. And as for the train ride..." James placed his palm right on top of Rainbow Dash's face and gently moved her back out of the doorway with one solid push. Then he slammed the door shut.

Now so frustrated it actually ached a little, he sat back down and rubbed his eyes. He had to push the books to the side to blow off some steam. What had that nosy pegasus even wanted? She was digging for something. At that thought he was very suddenly not in the mood to care. It was more stunning to him that, for all her swagger, she sure couldn't swing a bit of bluffing. Thank goodness this train even had personal rooms because if he had to put up with that behavior in a sardine can there would've been-

There was a fast tapping that suddenly broke his thoughts. He looked to the door but it wasn't the familiar bang of a knock at all. The tapping repeated and, listening more sharply this time, he traced its origin to... the window?

Dipping and moving his head about, James peeked beyond the glass. No way. Oh, NO WAY. Against his better judgment, he undid the latches and lowered the window.

Racing against the wind, Rainbow Dash cut her way through the air alongside the train, matching speed for speed. She shouted in short bursts to overcome the roar of the wind, "SO ANYWAY! I WAS THINKING! WE'RE ON THIS MISSION THING! FROM THE PRINCESS! TOGETHER! SO! WE'RE BASICALLY! LIKE TEAMMATES NOW! RIGHT?"

He really couldn't do anything but stare back in response. One part of him was angry with her stubborn refusal to give up, another part was concerned for her safety, and yet another just couldn't come to grips with how crazy this stunt was. Well... it was impressive as hell too, but it was also crazy.

"RIGHT!" the pegasus yelled, as if he had agreed. "BUT! WE DON'T REALLY! KNOW EACH OTHER! LIKE TEAMMATES SHOULD! SO WHY DON'T! YOU AND I! SIT DOWN AND! HAVE A LONG TALK! ABOUT HOW YOU-"

Placing his hands firmly on the open window top, James leaned out slightly and shouted back, "Can you please just leave me alone?"

"WHAT?" She brought a hoof up to her ear.

"Leave! Me! Alone! Thanks!" he enunciated. With drippings of anger, he slipped back inside, threw the window back up, smashed the locks back into place, and dragged the shades closed.

His ferocity echoed in how he slammed himself down into the seat. What if she came back again? He wasn't sure what he would do, or what clearer way he could shove his message into her dimwitted, thick skull. Looking for escape, he swerved his eyes to the pushed aside books, just barely within reach. Maybe she simply would stay away this time and he could fall into their pages. However, like a cataclysmic vision, he fatally knew that the instant he reached for a book it would somehow invoke another interruption from Rainbow Dash. He held himself back for several moments, long enough for his sensibility to remind him how absurd his linking of the two events was, and then his hand cautiously stretched for one of the books...

Before he could even lay a finger on it, there was a faint knocking on his door.

Slapping the table hard, he rose up. Angrily, he marched over and grabbed the door handle, and as he ripped the door open he shouted, "I'm getting really tired of-"

On the other side of the open doorway, Fluttershy cringed down. Her head fell low, her wings clutched in tight and shook, and her tail drooped between her legs. "I-I-I'm sorry...," she hoarsely whispered. With frightened speed, she gripped her teeth on the handlebar of a service cart she was bringing through the hall and started to push it away.

"No! No, wait!" James called after her in a hurry. "I thought... that you were someone else. I'm sorry."

Nervously, the shy pegasus paused and looked back, still just a little shaken. Her voice came unsteady but clear, "Oh... Well, I... I brewed some tea and... I thought that you might like some..."

Peering past her, the man could see that her simple pushcart, draped in a long, white tablecloth which nearly dragged on the floor, did indeed have a silver teapot resting upon it. A gentle steam, barely visible, leaked out of the spout and its sweet aroma wafted even to where he was standing. With several teacups stacked upside down and more than a few accessories on the side, she was certainly ready to serve.

His eyebrows bounced in surprise. "Thank you! You didn't have to-" He stopped to pinch the bridge of his nose and tried to rub the rainbow disturbances away. A warm drink could go a long way here. "Yes. Yeah, I'd love some, thank you. Could really use it right about now." Then, almost spontaneously, he decided to stand aside and gestured for her to wheel her cart into his room, rather than take a tea delivery.

With recovering geniality, Fluttershy was able to smile again and she grabbed her cart. Careful in the narrow hall, she rolled it backwards until she could swivel it into his room. After she entered, James hung out of his door for a moment and glanced up and down the hallway with watchful eyes. Satisfied by the lack of colorful intruders, he closed the door.

As he slipped around the pegasus and her cart to sit back down, she delicately flipped two teacups and placed them on the table. The light and creamy tea that she carefully poured out flowed like an easy brook and the filling cups steamed like a hot bath. She explained that she had been browsing the train's kitchen when she saw they had a large and varied stock of teas, so she had selected a delightful looking white tea to try. After she poured and securely placed the teapot back down, she made sure to politely point out every last one of the overly abundant choices of additives she had brought: sugar, more than one kind of milk, ginger and other spices, and so on. She herself squeezed only a bit of honey into her drink before she took a spoon and sat, stirring gently.

He thanked her with every step of her preparation since she always looked worried that she was doing something wrong. As he wasn't really a connoisseur of this new habit, he didn't bother enhancing his tea in any way. Fully wrapping his hands around his teacup, he enjoyed the melting warmth that came from it and he bent forward to let the rising, savory scent fill him. Sighing with closed eyes, he felt substantially better. Although he was waiting for the drink to cool a bit before taking a sip, it didn't actually matter at this point if he got to try it or not; it had done its job.

Fluttershy withdrew her spoon and set it down, letting her beverage swirl smoothly on its own. Now ready to relax herself, she was able to give James a more scrutinous look for the first time. Her notice was immediate. It was hard to slip some things by such an experienced caretaker. "You look really tired," she softly observed with generous, but not overly worried, concern.

He sighed again. "That obvious, huh?" he groaned wearily.

Without even a breath of hesitation, she backed off, again showing downcast eyes, and she murmured in apology, "Oh, I'm sorry. Were you trying to sleep?"

"Not really." He pressed himself up, sitting slightly straighter and stretching his back some. As much as he could manage, he tried to drain his agitation away to help put her at ease. "Just... tired." The word came out heavy and profound. He was tired, but not as a description. He WAS tired. He had become the concept. Idly, he brushed the side of his hand along the table twice, like sweeping away crumbs, as if he could wipe away that thought.

She seemed to understand what he meant by his words and she relaxed some as she wished to him, "Well, I hope you get some rest during the train ride. We may be a little busy once we get to Hamestown."

"We may," he nodded in uncertainty. Just not for the reasons these ponies were imagining. He took another look at Fluttershy. She was still bothered by something. It wasn't as direct as before but something definitely nagged at her. He had probably spooked her pretty badly with his yelling. "You alright?" he asked her.

"Ooo... I'm just nervous," she said in a low tone. There were the tiniest quaking shivers in her, and she blew a baby cushion of air over her tea before taking a sip to calm her nerves.

James was remorseful. This wasn't unlike the situation with Rarity; she had never done anything to truly bother him in any way, so his rudeness hadn't been right, no matter how much a case of mistaken identity it had been. "I'm sorry," he offered sincerely.

But instantly she popped up, more worried and strained, lamenting, "Oh, no, no! I'm sorry! I didn't mean that you're making me nervous!" She had to take another sip to settle completely, and then she glanced away weakly. In a silent tone, she stressed, "It seems like everypony expects me to solve everything when we get there."

It was a simple thing she had said, but it at last woke him completely up from his selfish focus; a sharp reminder that there were things going on that didn't revolve around him. Trying to be helpful and soothe her anxiety, he lightly hinted, "Well... that's if the problems are rooted in some upset animals." Then, to bolster her confidence, "From what I've seen, you're really the best suited for that kind of thing."

"I know," she gave up. But again she whispered with lowered, diverted eyes, "I don't like the pressure, is all."

He emphatically felt for her. "It's kind of a weird thing, being on the spot," he said. "Sometimes you just have to operate under a lot of pressure. Sometimes it even helps you; pushes you to get things done, even if you would otherwise ignore them. But it's never really comfortable, is it? Some people thrive under pressure... get a thrill out of it almost." Leaning in a little, he told her in solidarity, "But... I can't say that I like it either."

He remembered clearly the oppressive mindset of crushing stress, and even paralyzing fear, that came with being under deadlines or scrutiny for things that had seemed so important at one time. Now he could barely recall the specific details of those tasks and deadlines but the pressured feelings had be irrevocably branded into his memory. What that force felt like would never be forgotten.

Pressure comes and goes though. It can be struggled with for a time but it has to dissipate at some point, win or lose; when the deadline expires, when concerns move elsewhere, or even for no discernible reason at all. Those fights were just another part of the battlefield of life. That had been his experience. He liked to believe that when he was challenged, he rose up. At least... that was how he looked back on things retrospectively. There wasn't a time he could willingly remember where he believed he had been defeated by his life. After all... he was still here.

... And that counted, right...?

"I don't mind speaking with the animals there, if that's what I have to do," Fluttershy barely insisted. "I mean, I am worried that some poor little creature is hurt somehow and that's causing all this to happen. B-but... if i-it's s-something... m-meaner..." She had to stop and take another sip of her tea.

Her zoo of a home was one of the more impressive things he remembered ever seeing. It wasn't the ramshackle abode of a crazy cat lady; it was the perfectly made dwelling of countless families of critters, all superbly cared for. Her remarkable capability to maintain that place made her, in his eyes, an animal expert of incredible heart and talent, for all things big and small. But he supposed even a lion tamer gets bit every now and again. That was the danger with wild animals. He put forward another effort to relieve her fears, saying, "No need to really worry about anything yet. We'll hopefully have a better idea of what to expect when Twilight finishes with her research. Plus, even then, we'll still need to get there and see the situation for ourselves."

The agitated pegasus hummed discontentedly. Her power of belief couldn't overcome her jagged doubt.

She was a pessimistic one, he felt. But he recalled how, back when he had first arrived, she had really thrown herself into assisting all the animals that had been displaced from the portal's volatile collapse. Even as the work had pushed her to the brink of exhaustion, physically and mentally, she had kept giving all she had. Having had seen her in the middle of that draining burden, he could easily imagine that she had felt the same hopelessness then, too. But still she had stepped up to the task. She couldn't have NOT tried. That kind of despairing retreat, when all those animals were on the line, wasn't a part of who she was, no matter what her fear was. Realizing that, James tried adjusting his approach. "You take care of a lot of different kinds of animals. Have you ever had to deal with a really dangerous one?"

By her reaction it was plain to see that those memories weren't her fondest, but she replied, "Oh my, yes, several times." But then, strangely, she became almost conciliatory, telling him, "They're not... bad creatures. They just... aren't always as nice, or as patient, or as... f-friendly as maybe they could be." She tensed up again but not as severely as before, and she was able to take a relatively more casual sip or her cooling tea.

Her advocacy for the very critters she was hoping not to deal with actually reminded James of several people he had met. Rude, or grumpy, or hostile individuals who nevertheless found friends and others to love, and who loved them. Ways were found to interact with them since somewhere inside they were really human. And it seemed like Fluttershy, in her own way, hadn't experienced different. "So it sounds to me like, frightening or not, you could handle it. That special ability to talk with animals is really something."

"It's not really special," she opined rather plainly, disquietly rubbing a hoof on the table while looking away.

"Sure it's special," he countered in attempt to stop her defeatist descent. "That's part of why everyone believes in you. And, I mean, I certainly can't talk with animals like that."

"That's not true. You could," she told him. Something wistful rose up in her, like what she felt inside was the most obvious thing in the world to her yet it was always strangely hard to grasp for others. "Maybe it comes easier to me but there's no reason why you couldn't." Then something occurred to her and she popped up somewhat, blinking at him, and asked, "Didn't you say you used to take care of some little bunny rabbits?"

"Yeah. While I was growing up. Three of them," he refreshed her memory. "Not all at the same time. One after the other."

Like pointing out the obvious, she wondered, "So... didn't you talk to them?"

"Well... of course," replied James, but he wasn't completely following where she was going. He justified, "But that's just something you do with a pet. More like... talking AT them, most of the time."

"Oh, no, no... I mean, to get along with them," Fluttershy clarified herself. "Didn't you have to communicate with them?"

"It's not like I could speak with-" But he halted and thought a bit more deeply about what she was saying. He took himself back, put some of his past interactions with his three little buddies under a microscope, and reevaluated everything with the stronger form of mind adulthood had given him.

With a brightened change of voice, he suddenly said to her, "I remember... I could walk right up to them, a big (compared to them), excited kid, and they wouldn't mind one bit. They'd let me run my hands all over them, scratching behind their ears, scritching their noses, grooming their backs... but..." A half-smile emerged on him and nodded with remembrance as he related their cleverness, "But... if I put my jacket on FIRST and then went up to them in the same way... well, there was usually no getting close to them! They'd scurry and scamper away, hide under the bed, all that. They knew what that jacket meant. I was going out, and going to try to put them back in their cage."

It was a charming picture which made Fluttershy grin, a million of her own relatable experiences tickling her. "They knew what you were saying with your jacket," she giggled, "and they were trying to say something back."

"That they didn't want to go in their cage? Well, that wasn't their decision!" he chuckled. "Mom wasn't going to stand for them having an unsupervised run. Heh... and really, each of them had a different personality about it. One of them was a pretty mellow guy. He wouldn't always run from me so it wasn't always catch'em and cage'em with him. Sometimes he...," the man became very rabbit-like, showing what he was saying with his hands and body, "... he would see me coming and you could tell he knew, because he'd tense up, ball up a bit more, get really defensive, you know? But he wouldn't run. So, I'd stand over him and be like, 'Pal, I've got to go. You got to get in your cage,' and I'd point at the cage. Occasionally I'd have to tell him twice but eventually he'd get up and..." James had to break from his small story just to laugh and scratch his head. These behaviors had never struck him as unusual when he was just a kid taking care of his rabbit, but now... "He'd get up and just take the tiniest, saddest, slowest hops towards the cage. And sometimes he'd stop in front of the cage door and look back, and you saw it in his eyes and ears, that 'do I really have to?' I'd tell him again, or snap my fingers, and in he'd go.

And they'd do stuff to let me know other things too, when they had to," he carried on without pause. It was a wellspring of good thoughts, good times, and good memories. "One of them would come right up to me and tap me on the ankle with his nose if he was demanding attention. And the other, well, if I was too slow keeping up with his litter box he'd let me know by taking his business elsewhere, but only after he was sure I was watching him first! He wanted to make sure I knew. And the mellow guy, haha, I'll never forget this, one time my sisters were having some kind of argument in the other room and one of them really screamed and slammed something, and he just thumped the biggest thump and then bolted and hid behind my legs, heh." He missed those rabbits, but what a treasure of happiness they had left him with!

The pegasus was enamored with his bunny tales, as she often was with all things animal related. Her love of creatures and critters was far more broad than his was but it was still so easy to share his feelings because they were both purely touched by the same source. It was a bond that let them engage in more ways than their words could alone, and immediately she felt more stable and secure. She took a sip of her tea but this time, for the first time, it was just for the taste. "I think you really loved your rabbits, and really cared about them," she explained to him, "so you found a way to communicate with them." Her eyes wandered a bit, but not with doubt or discontent, and she said, "It's really not that different with me."

He felt better too, remarkably. Raising his teacup, he gave the warm beverage a try. It wasn't his favorite from the small sample size he knew but it still had all the fine qualities that he was quickly growing to enjoy in tea. "You know," he opened to her with utter honesty, "regardless of what you think, I'd say you're pretty strong. From what I've seen anyway. I don't think you have anything to worry about."

Now ready to believe, she inquired, flattered, "Do you really think so?"

"Sure. I mean, real courage is getting things done in spite of being afraid," he suggested. "It's not doing dangerous or hard things because you aren't scared or worried." Slightly more quiet and slightly more somber, he added, "I don't know what's out there. We'll find out more when we get there. But I think the others will be glad to have you around regardless, whether you're 'needed' or not."

"Thank you. That's very kind of you to say," returned Fluttershy with renewed aplomb.

The minutes moved forward, helped along by their paced drinking as their pleasantries shifted to mostly be about the tea itself. What was liked about it? What other additives would it go good with? What kind of tea should be tried next when an opportune tea time came around again? Eventually their cups ran dry and neither opted for a refill.

"Well, it was so nice to sit down and chat with you," the thankful pegasus said, "but I think I should head back now, if that's alright."

"Sure, sure. Thanks for coming by, and thanks for the tea." James stood up and skipped by her pushcart so he could slide the room's door open for her.

Fluttershy gently returned the cups and spoon to her cart before she grasped it and stepped backwards to pull it out of his quarters. Swinging it about to get it into the thin hallway, she stopped to mention, "I'm going to brew more for lunch. Will you...?"

"Yeah, absolutely. I'll be there just for it," he readily accepted.

"Oh, wonderful! Well, I hope you get some rest."

He mumbled lowly, "Yeah, me too." Then, after a shake of his head, more assertively, "Take care."

She wished him goodbye and he softly slide his door closed.

The chipper pegasus was about to begin pushing her cart away when a rainbow-maned face burst out of the cloth which concealed the lower tray. Fluttershy reared back with a huge gasp, ready to unleash a surprised scream. Her frightened screech was just barely cut off when Rainbow Dash plugged a hoof into her open mouth like a stopper. The more colorful pegasus crawled out from the cart's lower compartment, keeping her one shriek-blocking hoof in place. She pressed a stare into her squelched friend's eyes and, after a moment, Fluttershy's wordless face responded with an embarrassed look, acknowledging that she had it under control now. With that, Rainbow Dash withdrew her hoof.

"Eeeeek..." Fluttershy almost inaudibly let out, the dainty screech squeaking the instant her airway was open again. She gave a little puff of a cough and then, still in a small voice and with guilty eyes, she apologized, "Sorry." The bout of panic passed, the situation caught up to her, and she questioned quietly, "Rainbow Dash! What were you doing down there? You nearly gave me a heart attack."

But the cerulean pony didn't explain herself. She only rapidly looked over Fluttershy, side to side, over and under, inspecting the startled pegasus inch by inch. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, she brought a hoof up to her chin and hummed thoughtfully, looked back at James' door with another ponderous hum, and then silently drifted up and over the other pony, landed, and moved on.

Fluttershy blinked in confusion at the bizarre encounter but departed as well, pushing her cart slowly along with one eye peeking back behind her.

Rainbow Dash didn't even make it to the end of the carriage when she found her passage barred by a certain farm pony who stared at her with a mix of disapproval and intuition. "So... what were ya doing, if I may be so bold as to ask, huh?" Applejack questioned.

"I wasn't doing anything!" the pegasus defended herself.

"My beaten blisters you weren't! You've taken a real solo interest in Beanstalk, haven't you," The farm pony accused. She stamped a hoof. "Don't you go gettin' all Twilight on us! We were waiting to figure this out together. I seem to recall you being there and being AGREEABLE to all that!"

"What?" Rainbow Dash falsely retorted, but her composure was beginning to fall apart. "You're crazy. I was just... trying... to spend some quality time with my new friend is all."

Applejack rolled her eyes and stamped again. "Oh, for crying out loud! From the bottom of Fluttershy's li'l truck?"

Recognizing that things weren't going in her favor, the pegasus' tone changed. Not quite as secretive, she still didn't surrender anything and insisted, "Hey! I can handle myself, and I'm just looking out for everypony else."

But the tiny concession wasn't enough for Applejack, who drove a hoof right into Rainbow Dash's chest before pressing up nose-to-nose. "Now see here!" she protested, "We don't rightly know what exactly is rattling Beanstalk. But we done heard he's been nothing but a tumbleweed on a windless day, so Celestia knows what miracle got him to even come along with us! Might not-a been an easy thing for him to do! Maybe you mean well but all your reckless poking and prodding might just go rubbing him the wrong way and make things worse!"

She let up slightly, drawing her face and hoof back, but her hard stare remained direly serious as she continued, "But more importantly, this whole nasty fix is really pushing on poor Twilight. The Princess put her on the spot and now, surprise surprise, she's taking the responsibility real personal-like. We got her stable before, but what do you think happens if things go bad, huh? How's she gonna feel then? You upset him, you're likely gonna upset her worse! And I'll be a snowpony in summer if I'm gonna let you hurt Twilight like that!"

"I... uh... I didn't... think about it like that," Rainbow Dash admitted weakly.

Having at last broken through, Applejack calmed down. Somewhat repentant, and far more warmly, she said, "Listen... I'm trying not to be angry with ya. Heck, I already had to apologize to somepony else once this week for blowin' my lid, and I'd like to not ratchet that number up to two. Can you leave'm alone? For now?"

Rainbow Dash spun her neck and gazed back at James' door. Her stare lingered for awhile before, without concealment, she answered, "... Yeah."

"Gather round, everypony!" Twilight called.

The whole company was in the dining carriage savoring their post-lunch fullness. There were still unfinished dishes from table to table, the generous portions provided by the kitchen having had encouraged heavier helpings. The soggy remains of vegetable soup in the bottom of bowls, leaves and fruits and hay left in fragments on plates, cakes and treats and other delights abandoned in clumps and crumbs; they were found at all the tables, mixed with the spent napkins. It would've been considered a quality meal for a high class restaurant, but the affair here had all the noise, motion, and simple deliciousness of a community potluck.

Even James had come out to eat, as promised to Fluttershy, instead of stealing away some food to his room. But, as usual, he had never given anything more than necessary, selecting from what dishes he liked, sitting quietly at the table with the fewest other guests, and only speaking when spoken to.

Twilight's table was half lunch spread and half desk; bread stacked besides book and sweets befriending scrolls. The diligent unicorn and her faithful assistant had still toiled away at their task while eating. "We've been doing research all morning and I want to share what we've learned!" she said as she invited the others over. With the light of her horn, she shifted as much of her table's leftovers as she could, dropping the dishes at the nearest vacancy.

Every pony, and person, pulled closer to her table, taking seats near and far around it. Some sat at it; Pinkie Pie brought her surplus snacks and Rarity grumbled while she used a tablecloth to wipe down the place she had chosen for herself. Others set down at the neighboring tables; James for one, who sat with his back towards his chosen table and his front towards the unicorn. He actually anticipated her findings. Rainbow Dash sat slightly removed as well. The pegasus had at first thought about dropping herself closer to the man, where she might keep a better eye on him, but relented as she reminded herself of Applejack's words.

As Twilight organized her books and notes, Rarity commented, "You certainly work fast, Twilight dear."

"Well, unfortunately," the unicorn responded with glum hesitation, "it's more that there wasn't a whole lot to work with."

"I'll say," Spike quipped. He tapped a stack of books that was within reach. "For all the books you got, I'm surprised we didn't find more. A lot of boring records and letters and dumb reports about plants and bugs and-"

"Spike! There's more than that!" Twilight chided him. But to her staring friends she gave a heavy breath and a helpless shake of a hoof. "But... yes. These books are filled with lots of minutia that, while interesting, probably isn't going to be helpful to us in any way. So... we were able skim through a lot of it."

"So did you learn anything useful at all?" wondered a dismal Rainbow Dash.

"Oh, absolutely!" Twilight answered, recovering her vigor. There was no way to hide her general enthusiasm for learning. "It's really a very unique place! I kind of wish we weren't heading out there on such pressing business." She had to take a second to refocus herself and keep a sure hoof upon their task. Steady again, she told them, "Anyway, I think it's best if we start with a history lesson."

There were a few groans from the gallery. Here comes Professor Twilight. But some also leaned forward, listening.

"Explorers, surveyors, adventurers, and other travelers have been passing through the lands beyond the Pearl Peaks for hundreds of years," the articulate unicorn began. "By all accounts it's a very lush and beautiful place. Rivers and cool air come down from the mountains, Unicorn Spring Forest is right nearby, and the soil is noted to be particularly rich. It's in a temperate zone that supports a large assortment of different crops. Aside from not yet being a part of an established trade route, there could hardly be a more perfect place to set up a village, really. So, naturally, some ponies tried to set up there." Her words grew a little darker and sterner as she revealed, "And I mean TRIED to. But all attempts to settle on the land have failed, so for these past centuries it hasn't been much more than a realm for spirited travelers."

Pinkie Pie had to forcefully finish squeezing a thick piece of cake down her throat to be able to ask, "But I thought the Princess said there was a village there?"

"There is now," Twilight explained. "Hamestown is the first successful settlement after over half a dozen tries, over the course of hundreds of years."

The news caught most of them by surprise. It started spurring some original thinking in them.

"Goodness," Fluttershy gasped. "What happened to the earlier settlements?"

"Do you think it could be related to the trouble that is going on right now?" asked Rarity.

Twilight shook her head, saying, "Maybe, but we don't know." She propped up her notes with her magic and skimmed through them. "We do know that all the prior settlements failed due to strange and unexpected problems that the frontiersponies could never adequately explain. There are scattered reports of mysterious happenings that they thought might be caused by the local animals, especially more recently in history, but that's honestly not the big problem..."

She brought the scroll back down and said, "The big problem was that, despite the richness of the land, the earth ponies had a harder time than normal farming. Which was exacerbated by the pegasi having a harder time than normal manipulating the weather. And the unicorns couldn't help either of them because they had a harder time than normal casting spells."

"Harder than normal?" questioned Applejack.

"Yeah," Spike confirmed. "The things they could do elsewhere in Equestria they just couldn't do as well there, for some reason."

The farm pony's face contorted. "What? But why?"

"Nopony knows exactly," Twilight responded. She appeared thoughtful, reviewing in her head all the facts that she knew, and not for the first time this morning. She mentally stepped through her deductions again and again. "Personally, from all I've read, I agree with one of the theories put forward. There must be something in the area that disrupts the balance of magic."

None of the others seemed to follow her, lacking the same context she had. Magic never was a topic any of them got terribly engrossed in.

She tried to elaborate for them, "Magic is an inherent part of the world. It's in everything. It can even be controlled. You can build things, like a structure, to help channel the flow of magic energy, or assemble an artifact to hold magic power. But that happens in nature too. For an obvious example, the horns on a unicorn's head. Also, the site for Canterlot itself was chosen because the great crystal caverns beneath the mountain help attune magic more finely than most other places." Gesturing back towards all her books, she lead them back to her thinking, "Maybe there's something out there that has the opposite effect?"

There would have been the chirp of crickets if the little buggers could have beaten out the rhythmic rolling of the train. The logic had penetrated her audience to various depths but none of them whispered a word to indicate how much they had followed.

"In any case...," Twilight slowly proceeded, hopeful of her progress, "... about forty years ago, the Hamestown project got underway. They've had more success precisely because they've done a lot to account for past failures. They've found clever, alternate solutions to some of the problems that plagued previous attempts." She quickly retrieved one of the books and opened it to an earmarked page, holding it up and showing it to her friends. There were various notes and diagrams regarding the storage, use, and spread of water. "For example, since they can't always get it to rain when they want to, they gather water from several sources and store it in large containers before channeling it to all their farms via tubes and hoses and sprinklers. It's really brilliant."

It was stunning to James how she could talk about it like it was some kind of big innovation. Enough of the ponies heard his subdued laugh that they turned curiously to look him. He nonchalantly named it for them. "Irrigation."

"Yeah, it's irritating alright," Rainbow Dash picked at the inside of her ear with a hoof.

"No, no, EAR-EE-GAY-SHUN," Applejack spelled out for her inattentive friend. "It's when you bring the water to the crop by something other than raincloud. It doesn't happen often but sometimes at the farm we need to store a li'l bit of extra water in these tight ol' barrels for use later, 'specially if we know a drier season than usual is scheduled." With a casual consideration, she reasoned, "Reckon a pony could go bigger with it if they really had to."

But Twilight stared at the man, her thoughts caught in a sudden realization when she noticed how easily he had recognized the irrigation concept. He was from a place where they couldn't just make it rain when they needed crops watered. Of course they would come up with these kinds of alternate solutions. They made due living in a world they couldn't quite control the same way. In Equestria, magic was that control. If the ponies at Hamestown were operating under diminished magic... then James might be a bit more familiar with how things could work there than any pony might otherwise immediately realize.

Maybe it was a good thing he had come along? Could the Princess have known all this, or suspected as such?

An impatient cough from one of the other ponies snapped the dazed unicorn back to attention. Giving a brisk apology, she fumbled through her notes to recover her place.

"Let's see... settlements, magic, solutions... ah, right, the forest. Hamestown was set up, intentionally, against a vast forest that has become a big part of their life out there." Twilight shuffled her notes a bit before picking out an ounce of trivia on a whim, "'Unicorn Spring Forest' it's called. It gets the name from an old legend. Supposedly the travelers who came through the land would occasionally find baby unicorns all alone on the borders of the forest, as if the forest itself had spat them out."

Dreary, humorless grumblings arose among them. Some wondered aloud about what sort of mysterious force would create unicorns out of thin air, but others suspected dimmer possibilities. It was surprisingly Pinkie Pie who moaned, "What kind of pony would just leave a baby alone by themself at a forest?"

"Relax, Pinkie. It's just an old legend," Spike assured her.

Twilight backed the dragon's assertion, saying, "There haven't been any recorded accounts of it happening in over a hundred years. And all the older accounts are just unverified anecdotes." She shook her head, brushing away the speculative negligence. "I think it's a little much to assume somepony would be so cruel as to abandon infants like that.

"Anyway, that's all besides the point! The point is, the ponies of Hamestown live with a balance around the forest," she brought the spotlight back to her central message. "It's an ecosystem which already supports the multitude of creatures that live within it. The ponies have carefully and elegantly inserted themselves into that system. They collect what food and water it naturally provides, use the trees for lumber, and so on. But, they're always meticulous and deliberate about everything they do, being sure to avoid disturbing the balance of the forest." Again she displayed supporting data for them; a book whose flipping pages were filled with verbose notes on the life cycles and behavioral patterns of local wildlife, diagrams on the growth and distribution of the trees, and other deep, naturalist knowledge. She emphasized, "No tree is cut down until it's unoccupied and new ones are planted, no food or water source is taken from if it would affect local capacity, and so on. They've been managing things successfully like that for decades! And it has been a big part of their success."

She closed the book and set it aside. "That's also why the natural assumption is that the creatures of the forest are the source of the settlement's broken tools, missing supplies, and more. According to Princess Celestia, they've recently stepped up an expansion effort and, since the balance is really delicate, it seems logical to assume that if they've slipped up with that somewhere then there might be some response from the forest." Shades of doubt rose up and with low eyes and voice she mused openly, "The more I think about it, though..."

"Um, excuse me, Twilight?" Fluttershy meekly raised a hoof. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but, ah, I just... wanted to know, uh... what kinds of animals are over there?" Her face kept flipping between hopeful excitement and fearful dread, willfully wishing for one answer and praying desperately not to receive another.

Magically scooping up another of her parchments, Twilight flashed it towards the nervous pegasus and said, "Well, I actually started assembling a list of all the kinds of animals so you could be prepared. Gathering known species from every source I could get my hooves on, but... well, it sort of became... kind of pointless." The paper she showed had an organized list whose order began collapsing the further it went down, until eventually it was just hasty scribbles and then nothing. "A clear trend emerged, and it actually backs the diminished magic theory: all the animals are of a more... 'mundane,'" she stumbled in her phrasing, despising the word choice that came to her naturally, as if it forced itself in from an outside perspective, "variety. I don't think we'll see as much as a cockatrice out there. I mean, there are still some dangerous animals, but nothing with any seriously hazardous magical abilities."

"Oh..." The yellow pony sat still, almost baffled. She guessed that was good to hear? But it wasn't either of the extremes she had imagined and she found herself lacking any kind of response.

Twilight shrugged. "Try to be as prepared for that as you can be, Fluttershy. We'll need you to interact with anything the forest throws at us." Again the pony seemed to dip down into thought, whispering lowly, "... if that is what's going on... something just seems..." Off? She didn't say.

James caught her doubt. Curious to see if she would give up what more she knew, he purposefully asked, "So, what's your best guess for what you'll be dealing with out there?"

"I don't know," she replied. There was a certain quality of reserve in her. "The most recent letters and reports that I have here are almost five years old, which is before their problems started cropping up, and... well, I don't want to bias my judgment before we at least get to see things for ourselves."

The fact that she couldn't make herself commit to a hypothesis solidified it for James: what he had picked up from the Princess's behavior, she had stumbled upon through her research and intuition... even if she wasn't aware of it consciously. Hopefully, she expected the unexpected.

Chapter 11: Penumbra

The train pulled into the Hamestown station in the early deep of night.

Though the trip had been nearly two full days of travel, the journey had never felt quite as long. The essence of distance had been intact however, and all on board had felt the great drift while they had been carried along. The engine had hauled the busy passengers past the grand, grassy plains and then through rocky lowlands. The sunbaked crags and discarded boulders had only grown more numerous into that first night and, upon the fresh morning, the glimmering spires of the Pearl Peaks had become visible. Shining at their silver and snow covered tops, stretching like a wall across the crooked and sharp horizon, even the roots of those mountains had seemed absolutely mammoth. By the end of that morning the train had penetrated the first tunnel of the great hills.

That afternoon and evening had been a ride of rising and falling slopes, claustrophobic tunnels and booming vistas, and curved tracks that had always dipped and weaved around the titanic stones and bent cliffs of the mountains. But for as indirect as the path had been, those on board had an experience that was more or less very straightforward. Research had slowly fallen by the wayside when it had become obvious that there could be only so much preparation for what laid ahead. Most of the passengers had then carried on like they were on a holiday, enjoying what their transportation had offered. And those who had preferred to leave well enough alone had themselves been left well enough alone... except for the occasional spontaneous and circumstantial break for chitchat or tea.

But at last at travel's end, the tired engine finally sat at rest in Hamestown, wheezing with exhaustion and letting its wheels cool. The many passengers disembarked, lead along by Twilight. Rarity lagged behind; the muttering unicorn was having significant trouble getting her luggage to 'go' and most of her progress came from the loyal assistance of her fawning dragon.

As they emerged from the train, most of them felt touched by an invisible sweep of discomfort, the source unknown to them. The feeling of something awry was tucked below being recognized but above being ignored. The night sky was dark with only a few speckles of stars visible in random patches; uneven balls of clouds drifted about and blocked the stellar light. The thin, waning moon fared no better at piercing their coverings. It left a thick blackness about the settlement, hiding much of it from sight. Mysteries for the eyes were everywhere, and only the many hanging oil lamps, burning away with a sour smell, revealed the solid workponyship of the station, streets, and structures of the village.

Twilight was perhaps the only one to pick up on the cause of the pervading shadows: there was no value to having the local pegasi waste strength patrolling the night sky half-successfully (or less.) To most of her companions though, the shielded stars were just one of many things that helped extend a subtle oddness to the place.

In the glowing lamplight they found a welcome party waiting for them. One unicorn stood out as the head of the group. His deep blue coat complemented the night's color well and emphasized his short, graying mane, which was parted in the center and had very easy, almost shaggy curls. Long sideburns framed his middle-aged face, supported at the bottom by scratchings of chin hair, and further below he wore a fine vest which was a few shades lighter than he himself was, accented in a heavy auburn. His particular cutie mark was of crossed, puffed plumes; either dueling or supporting each other; their achromatic, fluffed look had a lot in common with his tail. The pony held himself up like a leader, with a stance that always seemed to be looking ahead, but he spoke with a strength of character that came from understanding well all that had passed behind him.

"Welcome, welcome!" he greeted his visitors. In one way he was tangibly relieved to see them but in another he still injected all of his official and proper respect into his manners. "You're the flock of ponies sent by Princess Celestia, yes? Glad as a goldfinch to have you here at Hamestown! I'm Mayor Quailbert Quillby, in charge of all matters of a civil nature here, and that includes greeting and accommodating guests."

"Thank you for the welcome, Mayor Quillby!" Twilight returned. The formal salutation did much to put her at ease and with but a glance it could be seen that the same applied to the rest of her company. "I'm Twilight Sparkle, student of the Princess," she introduced herself while bending down. Shifting to the side, she invited her companions to present themselves to their host, and they did, one by one.

Mayor Quillby was largely ecstatic to meet each of them. He made sure to place himself directly in front of whomever was speaking, he always responded with a welcoming pleasantry of his own, made sure to use their name once, and gave professional and courteous bows all around. His manner never diminished, not in the slightest, as he stepped through his initiations. Not even for Spike and James, who were both decidedly non-pony in nature and were quite an unexpected sight for the frontiersponies.

"I'm just so absolutely pleased to have you all out here," he said to them when he had finished his rounds. He gave them another watchful look in the dancing lamplight, passing his chestnut-colored eyes about them, contented and hopeful. "My, what an assortment you are!" he breathed with stirred awe. "If you don't mind my saying, out here we believe deeply in using our own strength and unity to overcome the harsh difficulties that get set before us; a certain affection for our own independence, you understand. So it wasn't without swallowing some of our peacock pride that we had to ask for help. Still, the Princess has certainly come through for us!" Again he seemed eager to just bask in their fresh presence, gasping, "Such a dynamic group! And talented, I'd wager! Thank you so much for coming!"

Overly flattered, and even somewhat charmed by the elder stallion's graciousness, Twilight assured him, "We're glad to help in any way we can, Mayor Quillby. Really."

"Perfect! I'm as giddy as a gull to hear it!" The first cracks of concern started to push through his formal front. He related to them, with reduced enthusiasm, "We had another bout of mischief just today. Things certainly haven't been getting any better with time."

To the arrivals, the message came as a reminder of why they were out here. They let the warmth of their welcoming sink in as quickly as possible while they stiffened themselves for serious matters.

Twilight asked, "Just today? What happened?"

"Oh, more food taken from our stock and more tools and supplies broken," moaned Quillby dimly. He held himself up though, fighting back against the grim prospects that rattled him inside. "But, it's late tonight. This is an hour for owls!" he suddenly spoke, trying to be as jolly as he could be. "Come, gather your things and we'll get you settled in for the night! We can worry about all these bothersome troubles in the morning."

Rarity, who had only briefly paused to give her full attention to the mayor during his introduction (as a lady should,) was still exerting herself in her attempt to pull her bags from the train. Her horn sparked like a worn flint wheel desperately trying to ignite a fire. Light flashed up only to drip and jump and fall away in gleaming embers. Her luggage's progress didn't reflect her effort. Bags popped up an inch off the ground for fleeting moments, or jumped to the side suddenly, or dragged forward a step or two, or even rolled over onto the floor. But none got much in the way of distance towards her. It was like an invisible man wildly tugging at overly heavy bagged barbells, failing to move them along with all his fervorous, burning zeal. Spike had significantly more success merely walking up to an item and hauling it out himself. All the while the frustrated unicorn spat and cursed to herself, though in the most ladylike fashion.

Her toil was spotted by the mayor, who approached her and politely intoned, "Pardon, miss. I think you'll find it's just a little bit different out here. Takes more concentration than you may be used to. Allow me." The mayor's horn illuminated. His eyes sharpened and a heavy tension swarmed into his body. It was like watching a bodybuilder slowly draw up a massive weight except without all the bulging, flushed muscles. Rarity's luggage picked itself off the ground, quickly swooped out of the train carriage, and deposited itself in an austere wooden cart, of which there were many in a row lined up against the train station wall. Releasing his magical grip, the mayor puffed out his tight breath and wiped some sweat from his brow.

"There you are, miss!" he nodded to the unicorn. "I'd recommend you get some practice in for yourself when you have the time, if you want to insist on using magic. But around here we like to be a bit more sparse with it and look for more practical solutions." He slapped the two-wheeled cart he had dropped her bags in, and a sturdy sound bounced back.

"I see, thank you...," Rarity said dismally. No matter how robustly built the cart appeared it was still just a collection of unpainted wooden beams and boards on tasteless wheels. It would be a travesty to hitch such a styleless monstrosity to herself.

Witnessing the event, Applejack scratched the side of her head and did an impromptu self-assessment. She certainly didn't feel any different than normal. But then again, she wasn't in her element: an endless orchard of trees which sprouted ripe and ready apples just waiting to be bucked free. She looked over at her other friends, particularly Rainbow Dash and Twilight, wondering.

The two noticed the farm pony's telling stare and looked at each other, then themselves. Rainbow Dash flexed her wings and stretched a bit but then shook her head with a light shrug. Nothing unusual she felt either (but again, she also wasn't in her element.) Twilight flashed her horn some, crossing her eyes a little to look at it curiously. She also stared inwards briefly, searching herself. In private, she whispered to her two friends, "I feel alright. It's definitely different here... It feels kind of like... being thirsty... but not in my throat... Hmm." She brushed past her discomfort immediately, more brightly telling them, "I think I'll be okay." As if to prove it to herself, she magically lifted her own bag and tossed it into one of the waiting carts, expending even less effort than Mayor Quillby had to.

The remaining bags were gathered and split into as few of the simple carts as possible, with assistance by the mayor and the few other ponies who accompanied him. When it appeared that they had everything, the mayor turned backed to his guests and asked, "Well, ready to come along?"

Although nearly all were agreeably ready, Twilight thought for a moment. "Mayor Quillby," she interrupted, "if it's all the same to you, I'd like to go see the robbed food supply and vandalized tools right now, instead of letting it sit until morning."

A little surprised, but also a least somewhat impressed, the stallion replied humbly, "Miss Twilight, as far as I am concerned this is your investigation, so you're as free as a jaybird to do as you like. I'll take you right there."

"Thank you." To her friends, she said, "I'll go check things out..." But as she looked at their supportive faces, warm in the rays of the lamps, she opened up, "... and anypony who wants to come with me is more than welcome. We're all in this together, after all." With a bit of a start and some embarrassed guilt, she tacked on, "Oh! Fluttershy, could you please come, at least? I'll want your opinion."

"Oh, of course, Twilight," the pegasus responded willingly and went to stand besides her friend.

There was nary a pause before Applejack trotted over to join the separate party, showing her eager support not with any words but with a broad and sure smile. Rainbow Dash was fast to follow. Most of the others were more than willing to join as well but when they saw how full the breakaway group had gotten they calmly accepted roles of tending to the luggage and preparing the night's lodging instead.

Mayor Quillby directed the other townsponies to take the rest of the guests to where they would be staying while he himself graciously invited Twilight and her company to follow after him.

James watched as they stepped off the station platform and into the dimmer radius of the lamps.

Well, he was here now. Not that there had been any going back once he had boarded the train. And there those ponies went to start handling their assigned duties. Nothing too bad so far, it seemed. Definitely nothing that required his attention, and nothing he wanted to interfere with anyway. Of course... it could be argued that he couldn't stay out of the way of something he knew nothing about...

Suddenly, he double-checked his cart-packed bag, making sure it was secure, and then began to head off after Twilight's group. There was a comment or two from Pinkie Pie, Spike, and Rarity about his belated decision but overall they thought nothing different about his choice than Applejack's or Rainbow Dash's.

He caught up with the others in short order, their hoofbeats being the closest and loudest sound in a night filled with lively silence. There were no noises from the buildings; almost certainly most of the hardworking ponies of Hamestown were resting up for another day of sweaty, sustaining work. But all beyond the glow of the hung lamps, which dangled from nails driven into simple wooden posts that lined the streets, came the sounds of a living night. Breaths of wind brushed against surfaces broad and thin, flowed through cracks and alleys, and bent and creaked out-of-sight wood. Somewhere, the buzzing of insects thrived, overridden by the occasional call of a night bird. From the same place, the rustle and rubbing of leaves in the breeze came. The sounds of a forest alive; not far off at all.

There was no specific mention of James' accompaniment by the group. Whatever thoughts Rainbow Dash and Applejack had weren't shared, but Fluttershy offered a smile. Twilight was pleased with his choice herself, though more as an instinct and less as a decision. The more uncomfortable her hidden thoughts of the whole situation became, like a chipped stone wedged between hoof and horseshoe, the more she was ready to take every advantage she could possibly get. Whatever she had believed about his presence before... now she would rather have him here than not.

Mayor Quillby unloaded fact, thought, and opinion onto them as he lead the way. It was a convoluted slurry of information, built on the skeleton of what was probably a prepared speech for visitors; a history of home and village from one who had lived it, but mixed now also with the modern troubles that they had come to address. So many decades had gone by of steady, cautious work. The settlement itself was a long-building success. But in just the past months, shortly after work on expanding the town more had started, these strange and confounding troubles had come up. Thefts and vandalism, mostly. And for the townsponies, no solution seemed to adequately solve, and no explanation seemed to adequately explain, all that was going on. The mayor quietly suggested that a certain kind of desperation had set in and, in a narrow vote, the community had decided to appeal for help. It was a relief how startlingly swiftly Princess Celestia had picked up their cause.

At last they reached their destination, close to the edge of town. Or, close as indicated by there being no more lamps beyond that point anyway. Past the last rings of light was nothing but darkness and the sounds of the forest playing loudly. The mayor stopped in front of what appeared to be a long, deep barn, though not painted in any glorious shade of red. It was a large hut built of dry, thin wood, and the dirt in front was well-stamped and trampled on from the townsponies hauling containers in and out of this warehouse.

Taking a key out of his breast pocket with his teeth, Mayor Quillby undid a padlock which kept the building sealed. Sliding the door to the side with his hoof, he took a single step in towards the cold blackness that was inside. From his immediate left, he grabbed a lamp that waited on the wall (again with his teeth) and lit it with some spirited effort from his magic. With the light pushing out and filling the length of the barn, he lead them inside.

As they went into the spreading light, all of the visiting group was immediately arrested by an unexpected sight.

"Uh... Twilight...," Applejack said with squinted eyes and a furrowed brow, "... this don't look like no raid by a pack of hungry critters to me."

The same sentiment was echoed with word, or gasp, or stance by all the others. If it was a warehouse, it certainly wasn't housing very many wares anymore. There were a scant few barrels and crates here and there, sitting lonely or in small groups, but there was quite literally nothing else. It was a vacant dirt lot surrounded by four walls, and the only signs of any activity where the shapes in the dirt where a lot more containers used to sit.

Confronted with this unanticipated sight, Twilight had to ask the mayor, "Are you sure this is the right building?"

"Positive," came his assured response. "We're prickly as a partridge when it comes to inventory, particularly where food is concerned. This is the one that was burgled and, as you can see yourself, there sure was a pelican bill's worth taken."

"Alright, alright," accepted Applejack while she scratched her head. "It's just... no spilled barrels, no scraps laying about, no mayhem, no destruction..." Dealing with pests was a familiar part of her farm life but it didn't help her make heads or tails of this. "There's not one sign of the disorderly or improper-like pilfering that you might expect."

In complete agreement, Twilight nodded. This find was just another item to add onto her tipping scale of uncertainty. Seeking another opinion, she turned and asked, "Fluttershy?"

The pegasus was equally caught with surprise by the discovery. She had come anticipating the remains of a hungry or upset animal's tantrum and this did not match her expectations at all. She was carefully stepping through the scene, head low to the ground as she searched for any sign of what creature could be responsible. She disappointingly replied to her friend, "Oh, I don't know what to tell you, Twilight. I don't see any tufts of fur, or feathers, or claw marks, or paw prints..."

Something about it all irked Rainbow Dash, and she chimed in, half-sarcastically, "Yeah, of course not, because what kind of animal sneaks away with whole things of food, barrel and all?" In confusion, she demanded of Mayor Quillby, "What even made you think animals did this?"

The mayor wasn't disturbed by Rainbow Dash's implied suggestion. Being as self-sufficient as they were, the frontiersponies obviously weren't obtuse enough to have ignored the possibility of a more standard theft. But they had rejected that version of events. He explained easily enough, "Well, who else could have done it? We're the only ponies around for miles and miles and miles."

Twilight's brain processed and calculated, trying to piece together all she knew into a coherent story, trying to find the unknown gaps which could hold the lost keys to hidden answers. She questioned the mayor, "And you're sure nopony has been accidentally placing food supplies in the wrong building? Or that some townspony wasn't taking from here without authorization?"

"Goodness, yes, I'm sure," he answered, still not offended. It was becoming clear that the threat posed by these thefts were worse to him than any unintentional insult to Hamestown's honor. "Like I said, we're very meticulous with inventory. You have to be, out here. And an error would go noticed immediately." Considering the matter of an internal betrayal, he was soft and attempted to be as helpful as he could be in explaining, "And we're too tight-knit a community for a theft like that. But even if we were to assume one of our own swiped everything... how, without being seen? And why? Who would be vulture enough to take so much, to nearly clean this warehouse out, and where would they even hide it all?"

They were fair points, Twilight thought. While from a fresh outside perspective it might have seemed strange to consider this the work of some troublesome animals, the townsponies' refusal to blame one of their own was logically sound for them. Her mind pondered about all the failed settlements before Hamestown; none of them had lasted even half as long as this one had. To live out here was a challenge and, to meet that challenge as successfully as they had, the frontiersponies had to come together with incredible coordination and teamwork; just like the difficulties Twilight and her friends had overcome through unity in the past, or even Sidlesong and company in their story. And she would no sooner accuse her friends than any of the townsponies would accuse each other, not when alternate explanations (even incomplete ones) were still available. It was just a matter of finding some evidence that would point towards the truth...

"And this isn't the first time a theft like this has happened either, right?" she asked.

"No," Mayor Quillby said glumly, "and it has been getting disturbingly more common."

This prompted Applejack to complain, "Well, what have y'all been doing to try and stop it?"

"We've started locking the warehouses and sheds, and only a select few of us have keys to them. But... it hasn't done any good." He patted his vest pocket and felt his keys still there, but nonetheless he gave a crestfallen sigh at how pointless the security effort had proven.

Rainbow Dash thought back. Mayor Quillby had to undo the lock to get inside so the lock was still intact despite the burglary. "Unless our thieves have a key themselves," she declared, "they must be finding another way inside." She hastily scanned the room: no breaks or cracks in the walls, no windows, and no signs of digging or dust around the outside. She paused, and then looked up. The barn had a wide cupola at the top with vents on all four sides; a bulge out of the roof that let in cold night air. "What about up there?" she asked aloud while she spread her wings and flew up to the space.

"Hm?" Mayor Quillby's eyes followed her flight. "Oh, it's only for light and ventilation. Those vents have been securely bolted in since before all this even started. Nothing could-"

With but a tap of her hoof, the vent frame that Rainbow Dash pressed on popped out effortlessly and clacked onto the barn roof, scraping as it slid down. The mayor's sentence turned in to a drone, lengthily drawing out the last syllable uttered from his now slack jaw. The rest of crowd gazed up, all coming to the same conclusion, while Rainbow Dash poked her head out of the fresh hole in the cupola. Fluttershy went up to investigate as well.

"Looks like we found how they're getting in and out," Applejack said.

"WHO though...," Twilight emphasized. She was still pestered by all the holes in her knowledge. "They take mostly everything and are careful not to leave any evidence behind..."

Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash descended after a moment more, and the more colorful of the pegasi stated, "There's no tracks or anything up there. That I could see, anyway. The bolts were taken off though, so it was done on purpose for sure." The shy pegasus nodded along, indicating she didn't find any animal traces up there either.

Twilight looked about the scene again, still trying to puzzle it together. Her idle glances caught sight of James, who was meandering about the room incredibly slowly. His one arm was folded across his chest, and the other arm was seated by his elbow upon the first. His open palm rested in the crook of his neck, under his tilted head. To her observation, it was certain that he was taking in everything too, building his own explanations.

Unsure that there was anything more to learn here, at least for tonight, the unicorn said, "Let's have a look at the broken tools now, Mayor Quillby."

"Of course, of course. This way, please."

They exited the building, the mayor extinguished his lamp and returned it, and he sealed and locked the door before leading them on. He told them that the tool shed of interest wasn't far but he also mentioned that it was more of a general storage location. They crossed the road and passed between some other structures before coming upon it. It wasn't all that different from the barn that the food had been stored in, at least in some ways. It was a shorter and wider structure with much less depth, and its construction was a little more ramshackle, if still sturdy. It was, however, large enough that the moniker of 'shed' was perhaps a little too humble.

Once more the mayor had to undo a padlock, push open a door, and ignite a provided lamp to illuminate the inside. And once more, the visitors were surprised by what they found. Doubly so, this time.

"What in tarnation...?" Applejack moaned quietly to herself.

It was a mess. Smashed and broken splinters of wood were everywhere, snipped and shredded wires were loosely left in dead coils, once-shaped stones were now crumbled pebbles and rocks, and bent, torn, and twisted metal was scattered on the floor. This scene was more like what they had first expected to find at the barn. That experience had changed their expectations, only for everything to be turned on its head again here.

Applejack whistled once in awe and stated, "Looks like a whirlwind whipped through here."

Hovering off the ground to avoid all the jagged bits and sharp edges, Rainbow Dash floated over the wreckage and pointed out, "But what about these? All these bags of fertilizer are in one piece. And some seed bags here! This crate looks full of wheels; they're fine. And it doesn't look like anything happened to those hoses and tubes over there." She drifted about more but ceased calling out what she was seeing; it had become obvious to them all that quite a lot of things in the shed had survived untouched; a stark contrast to the ravaged chaos that now coated the floor.

Even more, this find teasingly tickled and taunted Twilight's deductive nose. No only was the crime here different, it had also been gone about in a completely different way. And yet, there was the inconsistency of it all. She looked between debris on the ground and the different bags, stacks, barrels, pallets, and crates that were still in one piece. Her big notice was the fact that the items which were destroyed were completely and aggressively destroyed with precision, while the spared items were completely and mercifully untouched. Two categories treated in supremely opposite ways. Whoever wrecked these tools did it with specificity and intention.

"I don't think this is the work of any wild animal either," she said.

Fluttershy began floating above the destruction, somewhat put off by the carnage and her fears of what might have caused it, but she still searched amongst it for clues. However, she seemed to agree with Twilight and wasn't able to find anything which suggested an animal was responsible.

While Mayor Quillby waited at the door, the rest of them spread out to search, careful of the dangerous bits sticking out of the unorganized mess. Rainbow Dash, following up upon what they had learned at the warehouse, took an immediate interest in the ceiling and looked for an ingress point. Twilight kept her eyes going between the broken items and the spared supplies, trying to figure out the vandal's reason for such distinction. It was in doing this that she noticed James was doing the same thing.

He carefully moved shreds of metal and broken shafts of wood about, piecing together what kinds of things had been ruined, but he also always had an eye towards the untouched items. Different saws and blades and rakes and hammers, among other things, had been decimated. But there, as still and as safe as the day they had been placed in storage, were bags of very loose items, soft building materials, some equipment for irrigation, and various miscellanea that could have an assortment of obtuse uses. For instance, there was even a tiny sack of gold nuggets next to large, soft bag labeled 'a pound of feathers.' What united one set of items into a class slated for destruction?

Twilight wondered what he thought of all this. But she didn't feel in position to ask him. Not just yet.

She turned and asked the mayor instead, "Was anything taken at all?"

"No, not a thing," Quillby insisted. "It's all accounted for, if in several pieces."

Tapping a hoof on her chin, Twilight muttered low, "Steals the food... breaks only some of the tools and supplies... why is that...?"

The mayor, who hadn't quite heard the unicorn's mumblings, suddenly confided, "It's really been a frightening state of affairs for us. All this damaged equipment not only hurts our progress on the expansion but it hurts our farming as well." With a dismal and depressed outlook, he continued, "If it gets much worse, and we aren't able to sufficiently replace the lost food supplies, we're going to have real trouble come winter... like hens without a house. We... might even have to abandon the settlement." Dark dreams brewed behind his eyes, withering like the colored leaves of autumn.

Twilight resolved to herself at the same time as she swore to him, "Mr. Mayor, we're not going to let that happen. We'll get to the bottom of this." And her words were the comfort he needed to hold onto his hope.

In only a minute or two the others came back, having finished poking through the scene. Rainbow Dash reported, "Part of the roof in the corner has been ripped out of place. Like, the nails have been completely torn out and it's resting only on the supports now, so it can be picked up and moved out of the way. That's how our perp's been getting around the lock."

"Ripped and torn, you say? Little too muscly a task for a raccoon," said Applejack.

Fluttershy wasn't completely fraught with worry, but these new mysteries added onto her existing concerns. With a controlled nervousness, she stated, "I don't know what could have done this. There's been nothing left behind, and this doesn't look like the work of any animal I've ever known."

Twilight looked to James once, thinking that perhaps he might also offer his thoughts without being prompted. But whatever his thoughts were, he was keeping them to himself for the moment.

Taking everything into herself, she tried to organize it all in her head as well as plan out a distinctive trail for getting to the heart of this matter. Time was needed, and so she announced to them all, "I think we've seen all we can see for now. Let's sleep on it, and maybe daylight can give us a few more clues."

Mayor Quillby, still buoyed by Twilight's promise, replied, "Grand, grand. Let me lock up, and I'll take you straight to your lodgings."

Hamestown wasn't a traveler's town so it made sense to all the visitors retrospectively that there would be no inn. The townsponies had instead made space for them in a large meeting hall of some sort. Tables and benches were stacked against a far wall to make space for large, stuffed blankets and heavy quilts that now coated the smooth stone floor, suitable enough to sleep on. There was a half-circular design to the room, with the wall at the center of the half-circle being built of layered, mortared stone. Just below, the floor was blackened and ashy from the frequent fires which burned there to heat the hall. Tonight, the whipping and cracking fire warmed them.

Pinkie Pie, Rarity, and Spike had all the personal bags sorted nicely when the others arrived, and they were eager to hear of what they had missed while tending to the luggage. As they all were finding different spaces to huddle about the fire, Twilight and the rest related what they had discovered and their different opinions on what those discoveries meant.

"I'm not sure I like this," Rarity worried, after all had been told. "It sounds like something much more dreadful is going on than we were lead to believe."

"I don't like it at all!" Fluttershy said, strained with displeasure. With the new knowledge and a little bit of time on her side, the fear of ferocious creatures had faded and was replaced with her motherly concern for all the unknown forest critters. "They're putting the blame on some poor, blameless animals even though there's no reason to believe they did anything!" Her adorably soft anger receded and she pushed the blanket she was snuggled in further up over her head, whispering, "B-but... something is out there, doing something..."

Applejack, sprawled on her back with hooves behind her head and her hat at her side, suggested consolingly, "They just been playing their hoof as best they can, Fluttershy. I think this whole hullabaloo has really been taking them for a ride and they didn't know what to think. So, they reported what they could figure to the Princess and... well, here we are."

Seated next to Rarity, Spike's opinion wasn't far from hers. But his natural curiosity had been constantly at work since hearing everything and he wondered aloud what was incidentally passing through most of the others' minds: "But if it's not animals, and there aren't any other ponies around, who could be doing this?"

Careful to still evenly rotate the prong which skewered the marshmallow she was toasting, Pinkie Pie laughed a bubbly laugh, adopted a phony, dour tone of voice, and narrated, "Maybe it's ghosts or goblins! Specters of the past from BEYOND THE PEARL PEAKS! OOOoooOOO~!"

"Pinkie, we're not camping, knock it off," complained Rainbow Dash, who was sacked out in a fashion not all that different from Applejack.

"Oh, or MAYBE," the pink pony persisted, now falsely wicked, "it's a bunch of mole-ponies who live in a secret underground society that has plans to keep encroaching ponies-"

"They've been coming in through the roofs, Pinkie," Rainbow Dash moaned.

"OR MAYBE, it's tree-hugging acrobats, out for vengeance!"

"I give up."

It was an amusing diversion while it lasted and Twilight allowed herself to get a giggle in at Pinkie Pie's offbeat suggestions. But she understood better than ever how absolutely serious this situation was. She had seen it reflected in Mayor Quillby's eyes. To think, she had once thought that Princess Celestia was tossing her out here to dispose of her. No, it had been another act of deep trust on the Princess's part, and now it was up to her and her friends to see this through to a happy end.

"There's nothing that says this is random harassment from the animals at all. Somepony is up to something but we don't know who or what," she summarized openly, wishing to keep all her friends included in her thoughts. "I'm convinced that what's been happening to the townsponies' things was planned, but to what end? Why steal what they did? Why destroy what they did?"

"They smashed everything that could reasonably be used as a weapon," James said.

He had been more or less invisible amongst them, staring into the fire, drawing his own conclusions. But he had never stopped listening. When he spoke, it was the first they had heard from him for awhile, and they jumped. Half from the general surprise but half from what his suggestion implied to them. The remark left the fire as the only speaker for a good few, long moments.

"That's... we shouldn't assume...," Twilight started uncomfortably, not feeling keen with his suggestion at all. But the instant he had uttered his thought, it was absorbed by her and fell into place among her mental dossier, and she couldn't deny that he had a point. If she hadn't noticed it consciously when they had first surveyed that tool shed, the separation between what was and wasn't targeted was now sharply clear in her head.

To drive his suggestion home to them all, he shared his thinking: "Anything bladed: axes, saws, even shovels... gone. Anything sharp: poles and spikes... trashed. Anything that wouldn't come in handy in a fight was left alone."

Pushing up a bit, Applejack questioned him, "That's a mite dark... don'tcha think? Why would a pony do something like that?"

"As a guess? ... Someone is planning to attack and they don't want the townsponies to be able to defend themselves." There was a distaste in his voice, like he didn't appreciate the thought any more than the rest of them, but he knew he'd be lying to himself if he hadn't read that possibility. It just didn't seem real. For Equestria.

Rainbow Dash picked herself up all the way. She was hardened and serious now. Nothing about anything he had said was sitting well with her, and in a small, sequestered place, she resented him for even introducing the thoughts. "Hold on," she strenuously confronted him, "what makes you so sure somepony is going to attack the settlement?"

In part because of how much he despised his deduction himself, he returned the pegasus' sour attitude. "Did I say I'm sure? It's just a guess, based off of what we know."

Twilight said, "But there has to be-" She started again, changing her words, "But there's hopefully another explanation. We need to keep looking for more evidence of who is behind this, AND why."

"Right," James immediately agreed. "We only know so much at the moment and it's definitely not enough to draw any certain conclusions or take any solid action. And..." His gaze had barely left the hypnotic burn of the fire. He proceeded slowly, knowing that his take on the subject already wasn't appreciated by all of them, "... I've just been thinking... it would also make sense for our mysterious troublemakers to break the 'weapons' in preemptive defense... if they didn't want to be attacked by the townsponies."

Again the fire ran away with the conversation for several seconds; with pops and roars. Twilight only uneasily gave up a disbelieving, "... What...?"

"Well... they stole the food," he reasoned, "and they wouldn't have done that if they were going to seize the town anyway."

Burning silence.

"We NEED to find out more," Twilight insisted. Not with antagonism or objection... but with a subtle, hastened panic.

"Agreed," he said.

Chapter 12: Collide

Hamestown felt like a different place when the many glimmering night lamps were replaced by the natural lamp of day. The clouds had passed on and the sun was unobstructed as it beat down its rays. Though the shadowed peculiarity never fully left the village, with little elements here and there still tugging at the strands of subdued uncertainty, the full sight of the running settlement was warm, open, and inviting.

Rising with the sun was the norm here and so the group awoke with the town itself. They were fed a strong breakfast by their hosts; a savory meal of locally grown sweet corn, leafy greens, and (to the true delight of some) slices of succulent apples, served along with hot bread and biscuits of a supposed special recipe. The townsponies swore up and down on the power of their food to hold full a stomach longer than any other meal in Equestria. The guests might have indulged themselves until they were bursting if not spurred on by Twilight, who had become even more determined than the prior night to hunt down answers.

Guided by Mayor Quillby, they headed back towards the sites that they had investigated last night. While they walked the main street of the town, they took in everything darkness had hidden from them previously. Firm buildings, built of the forest wood that had been shaved perfectly into beams and bars and logs, were set on stony foundations. Their wooden faces were stained with many shades of brown, including dust and dirt, but they still looked as fresh as the day they were raised, unwavering and solid, able to withstand far deadlier winds than ever came off the nearby mountains. On the left, peeking over some of the structures, were windmills and water towers, rolling with the morning breeze and funneling away their carefully collected surplus to where it was needed most. Appearing briefly through the passing alleys could be seen the fences of the farms, and the earliest ponies were already in the fields. They were setting to their work, still harvesting the last of the late summer crop while they finished sowing that of the fall's. And many ponies of the village trotted on the street itself, making for where the morning wanted them.

It wasn't uncommon for those who were passing by to wish the outsiders a welcome, or good luck, or a grateful "thank you." Mayor Quillby had been unambiguous when he had related that the decision to send for foreign help, to surrender their own management of their diminishing situation, had only barely cleared a vote of the townsponies. However, in show of their solidarity, integrity, and unified spirit, none of the ponies were disgruntled or cross with their guests. They all gladly saddled their hopes with the Princess's chosen even if they didn't agree with the necessity of calling upon Canterlot, because they truly believed that their settlement stood or fell by all of them together.

The one big surprise to Twilight and her friends was how present the forest was. On the other side of the settlement from the farms, the trees practically engulfed the village. The buildings were backed up upon the very roots of their neighboring woodlands. Nighttime had hidden all but the blaring symphony of the forest, as if lamplight could not touch leaf or trunk or twig. Day had drained away the ominous sounds of the woods but the tradeoff was for its impressive, intimidating sight. Even though it was mainly only one side of Hamestown that was lined by the forest, it felt like the whole of it was surrounded.

The trees were tall and heavily branched, even as far low as a few feet off the ground in some cases. The thinnest trunks shot up like columns, thick as a wagon wheel turn on its side, reaching effortlessly above the highest structures of the settlement. Some of them grew even thicker. Their great crowns, royal with autumn colors, were impenetrably dense with leaves despite the season. None of the goliaths were easily giving up their hard grown bounty. And always the old saplings watched, looking down upon the village with their tremendous height.

James stepped with the rest of the group but wherever his eyes looked, he saw nothing. Too much rushed through his head to allow him focus on anything outside of himself. Last night had not been any more favorable to him than any of the nights prior. Never before in his life had his dreams bore signs of ill portents, or troubled guilt, or uncomfortable restlessness. Never before had they worked against him. Never had they been more than random memories mashed together in a random pile, telling random, senseless stories. He tried to convince himself that his night visions now were still the same but addled by nothing more than arbitrary, unfortunate chance; that the onslaught of sudden newness in his life was dropping more elements into his dreams than his brain knew what to do with and they were winding up in unlucky, bothersome combinations. That was all.

But still he had awoken alert and ready, even if he was coated by fatigue. Everything that had been revealed so far about this murky circumstance jabbed at him like a thorn. He was still unsure about accompanying the rest of them, but less and less his mind automatically generated ready-made excuses to curb his involvement. In the battle of fears between what his interference could bring versus what his absence might mean, changing facts were beginning to turn the tide.

When his arrival had brought calamity to Fluttershy's much-loved and innocent animals of the Everfree Forest (still only two and a half weeks ago!), his demands to be of assistance had been born from obligation and a sense of dutiful justice more than from any amount of charity, or particularly any amount of usefully applied knowledge. He had been rageous and indignant about having been given a smaller role in setting right what had gone wrong, but time, hindsight, and some reading up on the facts had changed his thinking eventually. Twilight had been wise to limit his involvement then, if only for his own safety. Even if that particular section of forest had a fairly low risk for an endangering encounter with a magical beast, it still would have been a tactical blunder for him to have been there. Unbriefed and unready for the possible dangers and scenarios, he would have been a pointless and unnecessary burden then. True that he generally thought highly of his wits but he didn't undervalue planning and preparation.

So what of this situation? Was he anymore prepared? Princess Celestia had made the decision to send the ponies before any thought of his possible involvement was reality (presumably) so she must have believed that they could handle it on their own. But had the Princess's invitation for him to tag along truly been an open suggestion for him or had it been it a clever request on her part? Had she expected him to help, needed him to help, or just imagined he couldn't possibly harm? And what had she even known of what was going on here? Perhaps she had only thought she knew something and the brewing darkness that they were all trying to grasp was more than she had ever imagined?

It troubled him deeply. Broken 'weapons,' stolen supplies... they were possible signs of military designs or hostilities. His limited experience with ponies, and his reading of Equestrian history, gave him the impression that these were things that he shouldn't really be seeing. And certainly Twilight and the others had loathed to consider the possibility merely for its taste, even if it couldn't be ruled out with the known evidence.

On the one hand he himself was a soldier, but on the other he most emphatically was not a strategist, diplomat, or negotiator. Those are the people they would want here, if such darkness was rising. What exactly did his presence mean? He was afraid to let this situation go but he earnestly doubted if there was anything he could do.

Fluttershy was walking alongside him. She resonated with equal worry. Noticing their similarly pensive moods, she looked up and asked the man, "You don't... really think that... somepony is going to try and..."

"It's just a guess," James said again, trying to play it down. He breathed loud and hard once. "Twilight's right. We know too little. We need to try and uncover more."

"On the train, Twilight said that the ponies here work hard to keep a special balance with the animals of the forest," she mused with an anxious stare. "But they were ready to blame the animals for their troubles even when it really seems like they're not responsible. And now we think there's some other pony out there making trouble." In worried wonder, she asked openly, "Are... are the animals going to be safe from all this?"

Incredible that she was still sincerely worried about the animals. But they were as worthwhile as other ponies to her. And she had a point. If this 'natural balance' was so important that the townsponies had to labor to keep it in place... what trouble can come from an unknown force being exerted upon it? "We're going to try and find out. And do what we can," he assured her.

She nodded. Then she drew in a breath and held it for some moments, letting it leak out slowly through her nose. Her eyes became more fixed, her neck more stiff; she was trying to prepare herself. He wouldn't have known it but she was thinking about what he had told her on the train about strength, courage, and her own store of them.

Before long, Mayor Quillby had lead them back to the burgled barn, still locked tight. He opened it up so that those who had missed the last expedition here might have a look inside. Rainbow Dash took off immediately to inspect the roof in open daylight while Twilight and the rest stayed out and took in the shape of the space around them.

The forest coddled the back of the barn; its extended branches reaching out low, right over the roof and scraping against the back wall. The line of trees curved around the structure, thinning and passing right in front of where the road ended; a crowd of trunks that left a little bit more breathing room than the densely packed wood elsewhere. The barn was backed into a corner of trees; one side was the immense Unicorn Spring Forest and the other was a relatively small outcropping that grew from the main body.

"Mayor Quillby," Twilight asked, "where's the expansion to Hamestown being built?"

The elder stallion pointed off halfway between the direction opposite the barn and the forest protrusion. "Thataway. Though 'built' is a bit of an early bird word. We're still carefully clearing trees to make space and redirecting the stream."

"Do you have a map, or a plan, or anything of what you're doing?" the purple unicorn followed up.

"Certainly. Here, here," he waved her along across the street. A wood shop with glassless windows and a broad porch was located across from the barn, and nailed onto a wide board right in front was a copy of a map made from parchment that was at least a few years old.

It depicted three images: two larger and a single smaller one which was far off on the side. The large ones were for the expansion. One showed the current layout and progress, nailed over several times with updated drawings; the other showed the hopeful conclusion several years down the line. The tiny image was under-detailed and perhaps not even to scale; it showed the rough line dividing settlement and forest, with particular focus on the many streams that bled out of the wild woodlands. One stream, which bubbled straight through the area of the planned expansion, was highlighted in particular. It was, in fact, the focus of all three illustrations.

Through skillful and directed questioning, Twilight extracted all she could from the mayor. Not that she had any leads or designs but she believed that she couldn't have too much data on the situation. Essentially the stream was the most critical element of the expansion effort. It wasn't a heavy, crashing river (none of the streams which poured out of the forest were) but it still had a strong, consistent, and voluminous flow along with a wide, but far from unbridgeable, breadth. This stream was an important water source for both the magic starved community and the critters of the outer forest so handling it correctly was the most important part of the frontiersponies' plans. Trees had to be felled and land had to be leveled but, most critically of all, the stream had to be realigned so that they could maximize its utility for their many purposes. But it also had to be done in a way which would not damage the water flow and wouldn't deny, or even diminish, access by their woodland counterparts. Their plan and projected layout was very clever however, and it was already at a stage which provided MORE access to the stream for the forest first. A small, temporary dam had created a minor spring which was a boon for the wildlife, and all the while the flowing water was carefully routed through a wider spread of the forest to go around the planned expansion while the ponies themselves finished digging out the stream's final channel.

Overhead, Rainbow Dash passed over the street, the wood shop, and a pavilion stacked with pyramids of logs in order to search above the vandalized tool shed. Some of the others followed, seeking a chance to make their own evaluations on James' guess, and Mayor Quillby went with them to unlock their way. Twilight sat with the maps, inviting those who remained into a discussion, but none of them could draw any conclusions of relevancy. They had no definitive guesses as to if the water had any connection to the thieves' mysterious plans.

When all had returned, Rainbow Dash touched down with a hot determination in her eyes and, surprisingly, a coil of thin vines in her mouth. They were naturally grown vines but they weren't naturally assembled. Aside from the unusual coiling of them, they were twisted together to form a kind of rope. She dropped her find and said, "Our sneaky little thieves left something behind in the branches."

Mayor Quillby lowered his head to scrutinize the discovery closely. "That's not something we made," he warned. "We braid our rope from jute. And vines like this certainly don't grow anywhere near the settlement."

"I bet they thought they were pretty smart, getting in and out from up in the trees to the roofs," Rainbow Dash laughed confidently, "but they stopped covering their tracks so well once they were behind the leaves."

"So no doubt about it then, they are coming from the forest," Spike pointed out. "Or at least through it."

"Oo, sneaky mole-acrobat-ghost ponies," commented Pinkie Pie. She cocked her head. "Uh... why the trees again?"

"With the sheer density of the treetop leaves they would have had an easy time pulling off their heist without being seen, even in broad daylight," elaborated Twilight.

"Can we really be sure it is a 'they?'" Fluttershy asked with a fragile apprehension.

Twilight shook her head and dismissed, "I'm assuming so. It's a little much to believe a single pony could be responsible for stealing and smashing so much on their own, especially if magic assistance is unreliable."

"Well hold on now," Applejack shot out, innocently dubious. She questioned her unicorn friend, "What about you? You don't seem like you've been having no trouble with your magic and whatsit. You were cherry-pickin' treats with it from that spread all through breakfast."

"I know... I seem to be doing better than most," Twilight defended herself. A specific answer escaped her so all she could say was, "I do feel the difference though. It's... harder, and takes more focus. Like... trying to row a boat through too shallow water." In the end she had to concede, "I suppose it's possible that if a sufficiently powerful unicorn were responsible they could have teleported all the supplies out and blasted the tools, but that's just unlikely statistically. I don't think it's a scenario we should bank on."

Pinkie Pie whipped her face towards the forest with wide eyes and a gaping, open smile. "Oo, sneaky mole-acrobat-ghost pony WIZARDS!" But immediately her buzz died and her expression contorted, her curly mane sagging as she shook her head. "No, no, that doesn't make ANY sense," she moaned.

Rarity grew lightly frustrated, partly compounded by all the difficulties she had been having learning to cope with a more physical existence. "Interesting and all, but where do treetops and this crude rope really leave us?"

James immediately noted, "If they were careless enough to stop covering their tracks once they were back in the trees, there may be further clues left behind in the forest."

"That's precisely what I was thinking," Twilight pointed at him.

The others caught on and there was a mix of reactions amongst them. Fluttershy struggled to puff herself up again but her knees knocked and her tail shivered. Spike didn't appear overly fond of the suggestion either, nervously twiddling his claws and kicking dust. Applejack gave the forest a scrupulous glance while she pressed her hat down tighter onto her head. Pinkie Pie giggled. Rainbow Dash looked prepared but she never really stopped glancing between Twilight and James, trying to decipher something about them.

The first vocal objection naturally came from Rarity. She was already having extra trouble caring for her appearance without her magic and adventures into the unknown could only add to her crisis. "If it could at all be avoided, I'd... rather we not take a stroll right through the bug-infested woods down the same filthy path used by bandits and thugs. Um... please?"

"It's a little risky, yes," Twilight admitted, "but there's really nowhere else to look if we're interested in searching for more answers. However... there is another option available now that we know how our thieves are going about their thieving."

Cautiously she stated, "We could set a trap here in Hamestown. However, I think that's also risky in its own way."

Ever since Twilight had started to have doubts about the truth of this mission on the train, it was as if hers and James' thoughts drifted closer and closer to being in sync. Just by looking at her and hearing her hesitancy with regards to a trap, he was instantly able to vocalize her thoughts, "We still don't know anything about who, or what, our thieves are, which gives us precious little information to prepare a trap with."

"Exactly," the unicorn acknowledged.

"You'd rather go hunting in the woods for them than setting a trap here?" Rainbow Dash pressed upon the two planners, but somehow most of her suspicious doubt seemed directed at the man.

He could feel the heat of her question but was too wrapped up in the circumstance to give it much bother. Again he had hints of a mirrored attitude when he responded, "You've got the ideas backwards; setting a trap would be hunting. Going into the forest is a search for more information." He broke his gaze away from the objecting pegasus and rolled an open palm about the crowd while he said, "Anyway, the point is that both options carry risks. Don't know which is the wiser one."

To expound upon that thought, and maybe help clear the air, Twilight explained, "The thieves must've been able to keep a hidden watch from inside the trees for their crimes to have been so successful. They could even be watching us now! We can't set any kind of trap while being certain that they wouldn't catch wind of it. Not to mention that no matter what kind of trap we create, we can't know if it's enough of a trap to catch what we're after."

Spike injected a distantly hopeful, "Well, it'd still be worth a shot though, right? Even if it didn't work out?"

"I don't know, Spike," she answered. The unicorn gave a glance to Mayor Quillby, who was following their debate with an active concern. All the worries he had related last night echoed. "With the way things have been going, I don't know if we have time to spend waiting on a trap that may or may not work. Our thieves may be able to afford more patience than us."

With a frozen stare, she turned it all over in her head. It felt more like a formal exercise though, as she could have easily predicted the ultimate conclusion she silently struck upon. The others felt it too as she looked back at them. "I think we should go into the forest to search."

Mumbling and talking broke out all at once but was cut swiftly short by Mayor Quillby loudly clearing his throat to call attention to himself. Stepping forward, he said to Twilight, "If I may stick my beak in for just a moment? Now, as I told you Miss Twilight, I consider this investigation yours so I'll let you do as you think is necessary to bring these matters to a happy conclusion. However, I'd... prefer... if at all possible, if you could avoid disturbing the forest in any way. We take our 'neighbor' very seriously here and, understand, I'm concerned that some unnecessary prodding could cause some unnecessary trouble."

James immediately recalled the fears Fluttershy had shared with him on their way over; how distressed she was over the risk of the animals getting caught between the townsponies and the bandits in their struggle. He voiced to the mayor, "How do we know our troublemakers aren't already disturbing the forest?"

Fluttershy's eyes stretched open wide and she wheezed a quiet gasp. "I s-support g-going into the f-forest," she rushed out, at odds with herself.

The mayor's shoulders drooped, his face fell with consideration, his bushy, feather-like tail curled down, and he sighed. "Right, well... do as you must," he relented ruefully. "We'll offer whatever help we can. Just... try not to knock any eggs out of the nest."

"Cross our hearts and hope to fly, stick some cupcakes in our eyes!" sang Pinkie Pie, waving her forehooves about before cramming them into her eyeballs. While the others all gave more formal acknowledgments to the mayor, with at least the same spirit as Pinkie's, the pink pony turned her still blinded face towards the forest. She uncontrollably wrinkled her nose for just an instant.

It didn't take long for the logistics to be settled. The townsponies made offers of accompaniment by their more experienced woodsponies, which at first seemed like an obvious choice. However, in discussion the idea broke down. All of the settlement's setbacks were starting to stretch them pretty thin and, while the loss of one or two ponies for a single day was survivable, in Twilight's mind it was unnecessary if the plan was solely about reconnaissance. At least no townsponies would be in danger if things took a turn for the worse. And so the ponies of the settlement made due with only supplying what they could. Bags of dry foods were given, canteens of water were filled, a few survival supplies like ropes and a compass were packed, and plenty of sage advice was passed on: these are signs of the common predators, avoid these plants, if you get lost then find and follow a stream since they all lead out of the forest, and so on.

Laden for a day in the forest, the group of eight set out to search. They started behind the robbed supply barn, hunting for clues in a wide area at first, and then narrowed some as they moved on. They were always mindful to keep the humming trickle of the nearby stream within earshot, both as a safety for themselves and reasoning that it would be a likely route of their bandits. Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy kept high in the trees, weaving and rummaging through the branches, while the rest slowly stalked below with peeled eyes. Progress was slow, if steady, hindered by the scrambling of branches above and the monotonous terrain below.

Though the crowd of trees were encompassing and endless, they did barely have enough space between trunks for the group to move together. The ground was often slightly uneven, warped by the powerful roots of the trees, like frozen masses of writhing worms under the earth. The forest floor was made of layers of wet autumn built over an untraceable amount of years, still fresh and colorful on top, with the newest arrivals frequently fluttering down through the air. The drizzle of leaves didn't seem to stop the branches from being full and obscuring, but there was enough breakage in the cover to allow sunlight to rain in like dewdrops.

As they pushed a little deeper, the wildness of the forest began to assert itself. Moss and lichen made ever more present homes on trunks and stones, rocky hills rose up bearing roots dangling off the edges, and some of the trees swelled so thick that a grown dragon's wings couldn't wrap around them. Other giants had their mighty roots, like gnarled tree trunks themselves, bursting up so high out of the ground it was possible to stand between them fully hidden. And not far off, the sound of the stream grew more carnivorous.

Besides the running of water there was always a presence of life in their ears. And it was always close. But whenever they looked they found nothing but an absence; jostled limbs didn't carry running rodents, singing hollows had no feathered friends, and the drip and slither of the wet and slimy never had a sign of lizard, toad, or frog. It was like they were the only breathing creatures in the sea of plants. Fluttershy grew more worried and pressed her friends to keep a greater watch for wildlife, hoping to find one she could beseech for answers. Twilight quickly began to reinforce her requests, seeing it as their best chance for information as the hope of more physical evidence evaporated.

They at last had a first visual encounter when Applejack's hawkish eyes picked out a squirrel that was clinging tightly to a tree trunk, gripping an acorn in his teeth, and holding deathly still with the prayer that his gray fur would hide him on the gray bark. It was such an exciting find after so long a dearth that the farm pony hollered a bit too loudly and Fluttershy moved in a bit too eagerly. They frightened the small critter immediately and he bounced off his perch onto a nearby branch before fleeing recklessly away, nearly missing several more leaps from tree limb to tree limb. The pegasus raced after him, shouting apologetically and begging for the chance to talk, but it was no use. The squirrel vanished into the leafy mist.

Some time later, they chanced upon a woodpecker who was pecking away so softly and delicately that they doubted they would have heard him even if he had been trying to bore into Pinkie Pie's skull. Taking lessons from their last bungled encounter, Fluttershy's attention was quietly called for and she floated in as noiselessly as possible. With words so hushed they wouldn't have rustled a hanging thread, she asked for the opportunity to maybe question the bird about a few little things please, if it wasn't too much. Though the woodpecker stopped his excavation, he didn't respond to her and only watched. Louder she grew, decibel by decibel, and closer she moved, inch by inch, and sweeter her words, praising and pleading, as she tried to find the right combination to unlock conversation. But in a sudden swoop, the woodpecker dropped off the tree, spread its wings, and glided nimbly away, out of sight.

Lastly, Spike managed to find a porcupine balled up and nestled in some low shrubs. He mimed his discovery to the others and this time the entire troupe backed away, creating distance, except for Fluttershy. She landed and humbled herself close to the ground, repeating her cautious approach. Whether it was because he happened to be a more bold example of his kind or because he felt more secure with his natural, spiny defense, this animal did not retreat. For several minutes the others stood far to the side, hardly able to hear Fluttershy's encouraging whispers, until at last they saw the porcupine's head peek out of his spiked ball. There were squeaks and murmurs back and forth for some brief period before the critter unfurled fully and waddled away.

When Fluttershy turned back they all stormed in on her, desperate to find out what she had gleamed from her short conversation. But the pegasus was grim and unsettled. Her nose was pointed down and she wouldn't look any of them in eye.

"Were you able to learn anything?" Twilight asked with sincere concern.

"Oh, well, he was a little hard to understand. The dialect out here is... different... and... I couldn't make out everything he was saying." Her voice trickled out, sad and weary. "I don't think he really wanted to talk either..."

Rarity excused, "I understand we're making an intrusion and all but my goodness were you polite about it. There was really no need for him to be rude."

"Oh, no, no," Fluttershy raised her head just to shake it. She turned downwards again. "I think he was just afraid is all."

"Of you?" Rarity asked as she gave the pegasus a funny look.

"Fluttershy...," Twilight encouraged.

"Oh, uh..." She had to collect herself briefly before she relayed, "I asked him if he had seen anything strange but I couldn't understand what he said. So I asked him about ponies instead and I think he said that some of them are okay but he doesn't like the others anymore."

"Others?" repeated Rainbow Dash.

"The bandits?" guessed Applejack.

"Or maybe still some of the townsponies," Spike conjectured.

Fluttershy rubbed one of her legs, agitated. "Mmm... I don't think he distinguishes between ponies much at all... I tried to tell him we were here to help but he doubted we would. And, he said... to be careful." She moaned deeply.

They debated for a short while about the meaning of the porcupine's harshly translated words, without result. Eventually Twilight pressed them all on, seeking another animal to question or clue to find.

About six hours in to their venture, they had little to show for it: one interrogated animal (to small effect,) several that had escaped from them, not one shred of thiefly evidence, and less weighty bags of food. Moods grew sour with their lack of success and suggestions of grabbing onto the stream and following it back were floated. None of them were surrendering to complete futility but the alternative trap idea had grown greatly in appeal. Twilight, seeing that the group had at least not run into any danger so far, compromised with them for an hour more of searching.

But not long after, Pinkie Pie's nose began to wrinkle and flinch like it was trying to escape her face. Her legs wobbled sharply as she walked, kicking up soiled leaves into the air.

Several of the leaves brushed across Rarity's face and mane, as she was walking alongside her jittering friend. "Ugh! Pinkie, stop that, please!" she complained, wiping herself.

"It's not me!" the spasming pony protested gaily.

"Wh-! Of course it's you! Stop it!"

"Nuh-uh! It's my Pinkie Sense!" she insisted with a laugh.

The whole group ceased their marching except for James, who plodded along a few extra steps before he realized they were actually taking her seriously.

"What's it saying, Pinkie?" Twilight asked direly.

"Oh, it's just warning us about that guy." She pointed her still shaking hoof off into the trees.

They gasped when they noticed a mountainous stallion had appeared between two trees. Every part of his olive body was huge and thick; neck, to legs, to chest, to tail. He easily stood above any of the ponies and matched James for height. Only imagination was needed to understand that his trot was thunder and his gallop was an earthquake. His broad flank reinforced his aura of power, displaying a heavy trunk cracking in half. Earthy blond, his short mane was pulled back into three loops that looked like growing buds, lined along the back of his neck. He had a strange peculiarity about his rusted red eyes, though. The right eye had an unusual marking: some kind of black pigment completely encircled it. It smeared on the inside corner, dragging up and coming to a dull point at the center of his forehead.

"Well hustle my hogs," Applejack whispered in awe. "He'd even give Big Mac a run for his money in the sizing department."

"Maybe he's friendly...?" Rarity vainly hoped.

Unsure, but hoping to avoid any confusion or confrontation, Twilight put on her friendliest face and biggest smile. "Uh... hello!" she greeted with a wave.

The hulking pony snorted, narrowed his eyes, and gave a dark frown.

Pinkie Pie's nose set off again, this time with the rest of her body as well, and far more violent than before. Any pony who didn't know her so well would have surely mistaken her exploding movements for a seizure. "O-o-ooo h-h-hey! Ev-ev-even m-m-more m-m-mayb-b-be fr-fr-friend-d-dlies-ies-ies!" she spat through her chattering teeth.

The massive stallion whistled and stamped, the crash of his hoof echoing loudly through the forest. In an instant, a small crowd of earthy colored ponies rushed out from behind trees and sprung down from many branches. They yelled loudly as they came, charging into Twilight and her friends. Some of the ambushers threw themselves onto their targets, others cast nets made of vines and weighted with stones.

Chaos erupted.

Several of the attackers latched onto Applejack, though to their misfortune they found that she was quite disagreeable to their plan. Ponies were flung here and there as she bucked and thrashed about, howling nasty farm names at them. Rarity, Fluttershy, and Spike were immediately entwined and screamed or shouted for help. Twilight would have been caught as well but escaped ensnarement with a flash of her horn and a puff of smoke. Rainbow Dash was too agile to be caught, darting between her pursuers and rising up into the branches. She was thoroughly startled when she saw several of them make incredible leaps up into the trees after her. Pinkie Pie was seemingly protected by no more than the capricious hoof of fate as both net and pony missed her again and again while she pranced about carefree.

James' extra steps had fortunately put him outside of harm's immediate way. He recognized an ambush when he saw it and the sudden threat was enough for training and instinct to ignite. He seized an old, fallen limb from the ground and rushed the large stallion. With a snap of a swing, he brought it up across the underside of his target's chin. The rotted wood of his club shattered to splinters against the stone body of his opponent.

There was barely a flinch from the brute as he absorbed the blow. He turned towards James with an pleased, almost sadistic smile and suddenly rushed the man, ramming his head into James' chest.

James groaned but held his ground and pushed the pony's head under his arm, trying to get some kind of leverage over his attacker. But the weights and counterweights were all off. Give him a man and James could throw him a dozen different ways. But something of this size, and weight, and shape? It wouldn't have been so different to wrestle an elephant.

His assailant took advantage of the momentary confusion and lifted him off the ground by doing no more than craning his thick, pony neck up. The stallion then shot forwards and smashed the man hard against the nearest tree trunk before casting him to the ground.

Wheezing, with the pain now flowing from both his chest and back, James tried to get up but was swiftly pinned by a mammoth hoof. His captor gave a deep, victorious, but also almost disappointed, single laugh.

The situation deteriorated quickly. No matter how many times Applejack could eject the ponies seizing her, they always came back for more, tiring her down. Rainbow Dash could scarcely believe how accurately they could launch themselves through the branches at her and was feeling desperately squeezed for room to maneuver. Pinkie Pie... well... luck isn't eternal.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!!"

With strained and sweating effort, a dazzling light shot out of Twilight's horn. The glow wrapped itself around their attackers, freezing them all in place.

"Now, please stop!" she pleaded urgently. "Just what is going- OOF!"

From out of the trees, a small filly fell and crashed onto the unicorn's back. Deep, muddy brown fur, a pale purple tail, a mane done up in two bundles on the top of her head like floppy rabbit ears, and young, amber eyes, she carried something odd in her mouth. Stamping her forehooves on the top of Twilight's head, she threw over the unicorn's horn a spiraling metal cone with a green gemstone affixed to the tip. With but a twist, a mechanism on the base of the device snapped and tightened, locking it into place and pinching Twilight, who yelped. At the same time, the green gem lit up, glittering with an emerald light, and the unicorn's spell was canceled.

"Gotcha, witch!" the filly shouted as she hopped off Twilight's back.

The sudden pause in the action, and its unexpected restarting, was enough to throw the rest of the defenders off. Several ponies seized Twilight, the confused Rainbow Dash was suddenly tackled out of the air, and a pony pile formed on top of Applejack.

A delighted Pinkie Pie, at last brought down by one lucky son of a dam, laughed and begged for everypony to do it again.

Chapter 13: Judgment

Their bags were seized while their captors brought out a great length of vine-rope and cut lines from it to use as bindings. Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy were bundled around their barrels, encasing their wings tightly. A similar setup was used on James and Spike, who were wrapped chest to waist with their arms inside. Poor Spike was also tied an extra time with a vine-gag that dug into the corners of his mouth; a measure probably taken in an attempt to restrict his fiery breath. The rest of them were given no unique bindings but all eight were leashed together; a few coils draped and knotted around each neck one at a time in a line; nooses that weren't tight enough to be choking but that still rubbed a burning sensation onto their throats. The strands that joined any two prisoners were relatively slack, sagging when they stood at close, comfortable distances, but the leashes did keep any one of them from trying to race off without dragging the rest of the others behind them.

Rarity was also restrained magically using another one of the unusual, gemmed horn-caps, identical to the one that had been placed on Twilight. Whenever either of them attempted to use their magic the only effect was a soft green shine which emitted from the jewels on top.

When the last of them had been bound, they were surrounded and then marched along. The humongous stallion who had pinned James earlier was clearly the pony in charge. He stomped along in front; a stout leader of the procession; a muddy green goliath who was deferred to loyally by the other strange ponies. His weighty clops could have been crashing trees and the heavy swishes of his tail were like the smashing swings of a carpet beater. It couldn't be said if his authority came from his indomitable power or perhaps from some other trait.

It didn't take long for the oncoming sound of rushing water to grow louder than the parade of ponies. They were lead straight to the stream that they had been keeping within ear's reach. Only once they arrived they saw that it wasn't a stream anymore. Wider, deeper, and faster, the water now surged with a hungry noise. It crashed and splashed through bumps and dips with a solid roar. There had been a subtle allure in the gentle stream, so far away now, that could have coaxed anypony in for a quick soak on a hot day but this new beast offered nothing that would have been inviting even in the worst of summer. Despite lacking the unstoppable crush and stampeding foam of a canyon carver, it still had an inescapable sense of danger. It was hard to look at without suffering a sinking feeling inside; a sensation of being caught and carried away.

It was an unfortunate trait because the river also had something most unusual about it which encouraged stares. Although a few stones jutted up out of the water here and there, breaking its flow, far more common were giant crystals that sat like knives driven into the riverbed. They rose up in many colors, at many angles, sometimes in clusters. Some were as big as doors and others were as large as street corner lamp posts, and the water wound its way past and between them, swirling and swishing. Undoubtedly there were more than could be seen; smaller crystals that held fast below the surface, not yet grown enough to breach. The constant abrasion from the water rubbed a glittering dust off of them that gave a clean, rainbow shimmer to the river and left a brilliant layer of sediment on the banks. It was only in dull, echoed memories that any of the captured onlookers remembered seeing the thinnest traces of such color in the stream; the last of what hadn't been taken back by the forest riverside; a vibrancy mistaken at the time as no more than the natural glory of the water. The crystals themselves also glowed with a faint but noticeable luminescence like they were drawing something in from the river, or the air, or the very earth they rested in.

The group was lead close to the banks of the rolling water. The ground softened, growing wet with flaky mud, and the trees grew a bit further between than they were elsewhere. From there, the whole company turned and followed alongside the wet road, marching upstream.

Well, most of them marched anyway. Pinkie Pie bounced along in spirited leaps like an amorous skunk, never losing the huge grin that flashed across her face. While all the others were kept under the suspicious gaze of their captors, the leaping pony got stares of a more dumbfounded nature. The ropes connecting her to her neighbors flopped and tugged with each of her jovial jumps.

Rarity, none too pleased with the flailing rope, whispered over to her hoarsely, "Must you be so happy about all this?"

"Oh, sure!" Pinkie Pie giggled. "What's there to be not happy about? We met some new ponies, and we played some games, and then they gave us all these vines and stuff! They even gave you that nifty horn hat!"

"Pinkie, this isn't some joke!" Rarity had difficulty keeping her frightened and frustrated voice low; they had all immediately noticed that violations of volume brought only negative attention from their keepers. "We've been tied up by Celestia knows who and now they're taking us back to whatever awful place they came from and they're probably going to do terrible, nasty things to us and we'll never see anypony ever again! And if being ponynapped weren't enough..." She looked up distressfully at the lock which was clamped down on her horn and the emerald-like gem which topped it. "... it's autumn and green isn't even in season anymore! I wish I could get myself free of this ugly thing!" she moaned.

Spike, Rarity's neighbor on the other side, tried to say something to her but his voice came out completely muffled and indistinct through his gag. She complained of not being able to understand him despite his repeated attempts to get a clear sound out. Eventually the dragon gave up and slunk his head down.

Rainbow Dash struggled as she went along. If she wasn't trying madly to flex her restricted wings, she was cranking her head back to try and snap at the knot that sealed her bindings. Their captors had extra eyes on her because of all the activity but they never appeared too worried. Indeed, the angry pegasus made no progress in freeing herself. Her wrappings were so uncomfortably tight that they would barely bend and bulge when she pushed with her wings, and the impossibly small knot was never anywhere close to being within reach.

"Hey, Applejack, could you lend a hoof here maybe?" she finally requested silently.

The farm pony had made a few short-lived efforts to get at the knot of her own noose but her head didn't spin in the impossible way it would need to in order to reach the back of her neck. She edged a bit closer to Rainbow Dash and inspected the vine jacket with a dismal frown. "I dunno, that's some crazy kinda knot like I've never seen before. I wouldn't know where to begin," she said quietly.

"Just pull on it or something," the irritated pegasus commanded.

"Like they ain't gonna see that," Applejack shook her head. "'Sides, how do I know that won't just make it tighter? Last thing I want to do is squeeze the air outta ya."

Rainbow Dash poured all her strength and anger into another attempt to tear free, pressing her wings out with every last reserve of power she had, but it was to no avail. "Gah... it's so tight on my wings..."

"Hmm, well... strangely, you ain't the only one," Applejack whispered peculiarly as she cast a queer look over their watchful escorts.

They hadn't had the chance to get a good look at their captors during all the chaotic carnage but now that they had the opportunity they began to spot unusual things about the ambushers. They had been waylaid by a gang twice their number; earthen hued ponies in shades of browns and greens and grays of light, dark, and in-between tones. The mares and stallions of the forest company all wore manes that were like bushes, with strands of hair clumped together like leaves. The mysterious ponies also all shared that bizarre, distinctive mark that the one large stallion had: a ring of black pigment around the right eye which extended at one corner to reach the forehead. Even the filly who had captured Twilight (the only young pony amongst them) was marked.

The specific detail that had caught Applejack's eye, which she pointed out to Rainbow Dash, was perhaps the most unusual of all: half of the ponies were wrapped around the barrel with vines just like Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy were, despite being the attackers themselves. Small bumps could be seen on their backs, beneath their bindings, so presumably they were pegasi also. The knobs were minuscule though, almost barely noticeable, especially when compared to the two captured pegasi. Thinking back, Rainbow Dash realized that all the ponies who had chased her, making astounding leaps up into the trees and between branches, were these bound ponies.

Though the strange self-shackling was a detail that had not escaped Twilight's notice, it was something else that truly caught her attention: there weren't any unicorns in the group of ambushers. Not a single one. She murmured to herself, "The legend of Unicorn Spring Forest..."

In front, the brown filly walked alongside the large stallion. Like all the other pegasi, she was coiled in vines which crushed her tiny wings against her body. While the rest of the ponies carried on seriously, she was truly upbeat and celebratory. She danced and jumped as she went, taking off to heights tall and small, but always landing deftly on a hoof or two. Sometimes she even did flips, sticking each landing perfectly. The two long bunches of pale purple hair that sprung up out of her head whipped through the air with each of her leaps, and her cutie mark of a thin leaf wrapping around a twig seemed to float about like it was caught in the breeze.

When she couldn't keep her joy to herself any longer, she looked up at the big pony with expectation and excitedly asked, "So, not half bad, huh Broken Oak? I really nailed her, spot on!"

The stern stallion, who had been so cold and solid when springing the trap, suddenly changed. Happy and proud, there was a warmth to his deep voice as he said, "You sure did. I don't think there's ever been a Branch Dancer as nimble as you at your age."

"There certainly hasn't! I'm the best!" The little one held her head up with a puffy confidence, reveling in the praise in the way that young ones tend to do when so commended. There was a shine to her amber eyes, like glitzy gold catching torchlight.

"Haha, that you are!" Broken Oak chuckled approvingly. A tender, brotherly quality exuded from him. "You'll lead the Heartwood Guard one day for sure."

Still gleefully accepting, but now fawning a little, she replied, "Aw, I could never make as good a captain as you."

Again the big pony laughed, happy with the display of humility. Dipping into both honest truth and playful teasing, he said, "You will some day! Hold yourself up to it! Just think... 'Captain Hoppin Poplar!'"

She shrieked in embarrassed excitement, "Come on, Broken Oak! Don't call me that!" Redness flushed her cheeks, distraught with the mention of her full name, and she insisted somewhat more quietly, "'Captain Poppy' would be just fine."

Broken Oak laughed yet another time, rubbing the filly's head. "That's the spirit!" he encouraged. "Don't let go of that thought! Prideheart proud!"

The whole group, a circle of guards with a core of prisoners, continued along and never veered once from the river path. Twilight stayed pensive and quiet, taking in every detail she could. Noticing this mood, Rainbow Dash turned to her and asked in a hush, "Come on Twilight, you've figured a way out of this, right?"

The unicorn hummed deeply but didn't otherwise respond.

"Can't you just zap us out of here or something?"

"No," she answered. "This horn-cap is blocking my magic." She demonstrated it for the pegasus by flashing the gem at the top.

Already drowned in frustration from her failed attempts to break free, yet still determined, Rainbow Dash almost refused to believe it. "So, what, you can't use ANY magic at all? Really?" she nearly whined.

Twilight breathed a sober sigh. "Well...," she began, tossing some thoughts about in her head, nodding with each one. Then she thought out loud, "I don't mean to get too technical but... Magic ebbs and flows. I think this cap works by 'catching' my magic and redirecting it towards the crystal, which changes it, and then it harmlessly radiates away as light. So... maybe I can't?"

The pegasus blinked. "I'm not following."

"The cap has to absorb and convert my magic, so that means-" But it was clear that the details weren't coming through in a form that Rainbow Dash's frantic brain was ready to understand. Twilight thought for a second before responding, "You can think of the cap kind of like a leaky bucket. It'll catch the water you put in it and slowly let it drip out. But if you fill it with too much all at once... it'll spill right over." She looked once more at the restraining device holding onto her horn like a tick and said with emerging confidence, "I think if I really exerted myself and pressed all my magic into it in one good go, I could overload it and bust it right off."

Spike perked up and rushed closer to her, nearly tripping half of the crew. Rainbow Dash and Applejack stumbled as he passed in front of them and Rarity wheezed as his movements yanked at his bond with her. He tried to force words out of his gagged mouth but again nothing he said could break through the vines intact.

"Come again, Spike?" Twilight requested.

Though he tried more forcefully to get his words out, he couldn't. When they didn't understand, his mumbles turned angry for a moment before he merely sighed, returned to his place, and carried on walking in a funk.

Rainbow Dash pressed in closer to Twilight and said, "Alright, so you can break yourself out? What are you waiting for? Go ahead and do it."

"Don't," James immediately whispered. He was connected on the other side of the unicorn and had been equally silent since capture, stoically absorbing everything that was happening.

Twilight looked back up at him. She had been so preoccupied with determining whether she would even be able to force herself free that she hadn't yet given consideration to whether she should. She was curious as to what he had considered.

Rainbow Dash was flabbergasted however. "Don't?!" she cried in surprise, a bit too loudly.

Up front, Broken Oak's chipper attitude vanished and he swung back to being an abrasive guard master. "Keep quiet back there!" he shouted at them brutally.

The pegasus regarded the barking pony disdainfully for only a split second. She repeated, better controlling her volume, "Don't? What the hay do you mean 'don't?' Why not?"

With both of the ponies looking at him, James chose to direct his comments to Twilight. "If you have a way to slip your bonds, you hold on to that ace up your sleeve until there's a better moment."

"Better moment?" Rainbow Dash hissed. "Is being captured and hauled away not a good enough reason for you?"

Now equally annoyed with the pegasus as she was with him, he breathed harshly and sprayed his words at the objecting pony, "That's not the point. They caught us already. What's Twilight going to do if she gets free? Fight them off? That didn't work so well before. Run for it? Where? We don't know the terrain; they do. They surrounded us without even alerting us before. She'd get caught again for sure. The only thing an escape attempt would do right now is let them know that we could get away, and then they'd ramp up security."

Twilight's eyes flashed with seriousness.

But again Rainbow Dash was in complete opposition. She spat out a disbelieving gasp and then tried to circle around his logic. "If she gets free she can use her magic to get ME free. Then I'll fly straight up through the trees out of here before they can catch me. I'll go get help," she argued.

"And then what?" James countered. "You don't know where they're taking us. Maybe we'll keep following the river, maybe we won't. Could you lead help back to us? Plus, they'd have reason to treat us even more harshly if you got away. Could you get back before anything happened?" He shook his head. It was frustrating to him because he understood how bad this situation was and how much potential it had to become worse, and this brash pony was risking plunging everything headlong into greater disaster. But he was also keenly aware of how much they were being watched and it kept him from even remotely raising his voice, no matter how strained he got. To ameliorate Rainbow Dash, he elaborated, "If Twilight has a way to break free and we keep that hidden, then she can get you out to scramble away at any time later IF it proves necessary. Right now the best plan is patience."

Exasperated, the pegasus ground her teeth. Finding the man impossible, she turned to her closer friend and pleaded, "Come on Twilight, don't listen to this."

The thoughtful unicorn was quiet for a moment. Then she looked painfully at Rainbow Dash. "I agree with James. We should sit tight for now," she apologized.

"What?!" Rainbow Dash cried loudly. Everything inside her tightened, she washed over with incredulous fury, but she was also hurt in a way.

"I said settle down!" Broken Oak fumed, stamping his hoof.

Once more Rainbow Dash acknowledged the large stallion with only an exceedingly brief, contempt-filled stare. Lowering her voice again, she desperately contended, "Twilight, come on, you can't be serious! Why have you suddenly been listening to this guy so much lately?" Her fighting eyes glanced at James, fully revoking any camaraderie she had built with him.

"He's right, Rainbow Dash!" Twilight struggled when she saw how heavily her friend was taking the decision. As friendly and as sympathetically as she could, she tried to explain, "We've been captured by these ponies but we still don't know who they are, or what they want, or anything about them really. Even if we were able to make a clean getaway, what good would it do? We've learned nothing so far."

"But he thinks this is some kind of war or something!" the agitated pegasus rasped.

"No, it's... it's not... we... we just need a chance to learn what's going on," Twilight tried to justify. She felt weak and nervous, caught between the two sides. Rainbow Dash's pleas were hard to listen to, being so despairing and agonized. It was also devastating to disappoint her friend who was so full of faith and trust. James, on the other hoof, was cold and quiet but his logic was all in place; there was more they could learn by waiting patiently for the right time to act than by making an unlikely escape. "If we can discover a little bit about them then maybe we can get the chance to explain ourselves," she hoped.

"This is ridiculous," Rainbow Dash asserted, positively bitter. "I'm not waiting around! I'll just get out on my own!" She clamped down and stretched her wings as hard she could in another attempt to tear herself free. Her groans were unreserved; deep rumblings to match her incredible effort as the sweat poured down her red face.

With a whistle and an angry stamp, Broken Oak brought the company to a halt. He turned around, stomped up to the still struggling Rainbow Dash, and pushed a stare down into her that was so strong it could have drilled her straight into the ground. "Unless you want somepony else to do it for you, KEEP THAT MOUTH IN LINE," he warned.

Collecting all her runaway tension at the situation, all her frustration with Twilight, and especially all her animosity towards James, she balled it up and redirected carelessly at the threatening pony. "Make me," she dared.

"Fine." One side of him sounded very pleased with the opportunity.

He was so tall that he easily and swiftly got his hoof up on the back of her neck and rolled her head down some. Then, before she even had a chance to respond, he laid his hoof flat behind her face and swung it straight down. Dropping forward to her knees, her face plowed into the mud with a dirty splat. Broken Oak twisted his leg back and forth to bury her in more.

There were cheers and hoots and other general cries of enthusiasm from his fellow ponies. Poppy bounced about elatedly, calling out, "You show'em Broken Oak! Teach that Sun-kisser a thing or two! Make her eat dirt!"

"Hey, step off!" Applejack yelled as she rushed forward. She flung her shoulder into the large stallion but his immeasurable weight was too much to move.

He pushed back on the farm pony effortlessly, knocking her onto her tail without ever taking his hoof off of Rainbow Dash. "As soon as she learns her lesson," he grunted.

The pegasus fought to get herself out from under him, with no success. All she could do was wiggle and squirm, blowing furious words into the mud. He leaned in and pressed more of his weight upon her, pushing her down deeper. The rising hills of soaked soil crawled up the sides of her face, nearly reaching her ears.

At last he seemed satisfied and released her, stepping back. Whirling about to lead the company again, he darkly advised, "Now keep quiet."

Rainbow Dash tried to pull herself out of the ground, assisted immediately by Applejack and Twilight. There was a hearty sucking sound when she at last ripped free of the earth. A huge mask of soil was stuck to her and it slowly drooped off in chunks, with squishy plops and plunks. Almost as soon as she was standing up straight again, she took off after Broken Oak, growling.

Applejack seized her tail, holding her back. "Easy there, firecracker. Ain't worth it."

The vengeful pegasus temperamentally relented and started rubbing mud off her face and spitting some out of her mouth. "Pfft! Bah, if only I had my wings... then I'd show him," she assured herself.

Fraught, uncertain, troubled, and worried, Twilight looked back once at James.

As Broken Oak whistled once to get them all going again, the man reminded the unicorn quietly, "Patience..."

The journey never broke from the river. They followed it until new noises started to rise above the churning water. It wasn't more of the usual clicks, snaps, rustles, chirps, and other remote cries of hidden life in the forest. It was the sounds of a completely different kind of life. Chatter bounced through the leaves: everyday talk like greetings and goodbyes, hushed rumors traded by busybodies and busy bodies, and charged shouts of all kinds sprinted from one corner to another. All of the buzzing was backed by endlessly active clops which echoed all around the trees and from the branches. Louder and louder the noises came, until the sight suddenly opened up.

Merged with the very heart of the forest was a village of ponies, different in every way from the arrangement and order of Hamestown. It was wild and open, growing off the trees and out of shrubs. Huts, shacks, and homes assembled from wood, leaf, and vine; all kinds were built buried under raised roots, or between the many trees, or even elevated up in the limbs which spidered everywhere. Many of the high up ones were packed tight with spreading balconies or great, extended terraces. Steady platforms joined by wooden walkways, ramping up and rolling down from tree to tree, created something like airborne neighborhoods. Some trees had steps driven into their bark that raced up around their trunks, pathways to the canopy towns, yet other trees could apparently only be climbed with raw agility. The thickest trees had sections of trunk that were hollowed out at different heights, even with multiple floors in some cases; natural towers in the woods. Hung everywhere were lanterns that didn't burn with any fire but cast dim light from shaved jewels set inside, augmenting the beams of sunlight that rained through the canopy leaves. At the very center of it all was a sort of concourse; huge, flat, dry, clear of trees, longer than it was wider, well-worn from trotting, and dusty with ash from a history of blazing bonfires.

Here it could be seen that the river sourced from a smooth, broad lake which sat close to the center of the village, on one of the thinner sides of the concourse. A blurry mirror, the trembling water cast shadowed trees into an upside down jungle. But just like the river it had crystals of many sizes and colors which dotted the water like cattails shooting up from a swamp. Erupting from the middle of the lake were many small mountains of cobbled together rocks and crystals; slabs, boulders, and spikes heaped and stacked repeatedly upon each other, rough and round and sharp all at once. Springs of water burst out of every crack of the rocky piles, spewing icy cold liquid from top to bottom, rolling down and splashing into the lake. The river was also not the only child of the lake. Looking along the shores, a dozen other sibling waterways were visible. They ran off in all directions, vanishing into the forest. This wellspring was the very beating heart of the woods, pumping water down its many arteries.

Far off on the other side of the vast clearing was a single tremendous tree, more gigantic than any other tree in the forest. Its splitting roots were like pillars and buttresses holding up a wooden skyscraper. The trunk itself was wider around than even Twilight's library and it soared straight up into the forest canopy. Its impossible size was the symbolic essence of the forest's strength; the brawniest arm nature had to offer. At around four stories' height, just above where the massive roots joined the trunk, there were carved-out windows and a grand, open doorway, from which streamed glowing lights. A balcony was strapped tightly around the tree's palace hollow, and a long, broad ramp sloped gently down from it straight into the concourse.

As the captives were lead into the center of the clearing they ran their eyes around to absorb the strange environment. From the other perspective however, many eyes were drawn towards them. Ponies up high, ponies wandering low, ponies under roots, ponies in the leaves, ponies from huts, ponies from holes; all crawled out to steal a peek at what the guard captain had brought in. Some gazed fearfully, hiding partly behind wall, or trunk, or root, or bush, or brush. Others stared scornfully, approaching close enough to plainly display their disgust. Still others watched merrily, like some great victory had been achieved. But what the prisoners most noticed was that every last pony was like those that had captured them: earthy colored fur, a foliage-mimicking mane, vine bindings if they were pegasi, no unicorns at all (not a SINGLE one,) and a black mark on the right eye which ran to the forehead.

When they reached the very center, Broken Oak came to a stop and again relayed instruction to his followers through a stamp and a whistle, this time adding a loud pronouncement of, "Heartwood home!" Most of the guards broke away, scattering off into huts or up into trees via ramp or soaring leap. However, new and fresh guards emerged to take over the vacant duties immediately, called out by the whistling of the captain. The new guards shoved the prisoners, forcing them to line up almost shoulder-to-shoulder in the order they were bound, from Fluttershy on one end all the way to James on the other.

Twilight noted that some of the departing guards had deposited her group's pilfered bags in a tent built of vines and large, heavy leaves. Just inside the crack of the tent she could see barrels and crates which were clearly not of a forest design. There was no need to guess where those goods were from; they were the stolen supplies from Hamestown.

Poppy also ran off when the guards split. She dashed up the grand ramp and into the main tree. It was only a short time later that she returned, again holding her head up with a youthful pride.

Following behind her was an old mare of a pony. Though saddled with creaky bones and sagging skin, there was enough bodily strength in her to drag herself along without assistance, and a demeanor which refused to let her be labeled as an old nag. Her hair appeared as hundreds of braided strands that hung down like waterfalls on either side of her wrinkled face. Almost all of her was faded gray: fur and eyes, mane and tail; as if time had washed the color from her. Even her cutie mark was an ashy spectacle, being a much contorted and weathered branch of a willow tree with leaves whose color had died, if they even clung to life at all. The one predictable exception to her bleak body was the distinctive black mark around her right eye.

Every forest pony there, whether one of the guards or just an observer, showed an immense respect for her. There were bowed heads, plenty of kneeling, and complete silence. Even mighty Broken Oak, so large compared to her that he could've squashed her like an insect, stood to one side and humbled himself low with a deep bow. Poppy, indulging in being the presenter of such an important pony, gave a grandiose flourish when she reached the bottom of the ramp. Then she scooted off to Broken Oak's side and copied his respectful pose.

The old mare eased her way closer to the prisoners, who all watched her with rapt attention. When she was a stone's throw away, she stopped and ran her narrow eyes back and forth across the line of outsiders, not approvingly at all. At last, she spoke with a bold voice, far more vigorous than her age would suggest. The forest village was so silent that it was as if the very passage of time was carried along only by the words she produced. She cast them to the side, off to Broken Oak, asking, "So, these are the first, finally come, at long last?"

"Yes," he answered while taking an attentive stance (a pose all the guards and Poppy immediately mimicked.) "They penetrated deep into our forest, searching for us. But we were able to catch them first."

She steadily bobbed her head in acknowledgment and looked once more upon on the intruders with spurning eyes. "The next step, after so many years. It is the true beginning...," she muttered. Then, loud so all could hear, "... but we have long been ready! Good work today, Captain. A Prideheart exemplar you are."

"Thank you, great Willow Wise." The humongous stallion again brought his bulk down low, this time in a gracious bow.

Twilight was trying to make sense of everything. This forest village wasn't some hastily cobbled together staging ground for thieves to organize their raids from. It would have taken a good number of years to set this up. But there was even more than that. The air of the space was completely lived in. Long lived in. This settlement had to have been at least as old as Hamestown. Or even older? For all the time that these ponies must have been here however, the frontiersponies had never found out about them. There apparently had never been a hint of them until the recent thefts.

It was also obvious now that these ponies were not simple brigands exploiting the hard work of a fresh settlement. They were definitely responsible for the recent difficulties that had visited Hamestown but the reasons were still unknown. Twilight looked at James, recalling his guess of military strategy. What did he think now? She couldn't puzzle his theory into what she knew. At least, not yet.

This elderly mare that had come before them might be the answer, though. She was undoubtedly the leader. Just the chance to speak with her would answer so many questions and, more importantly, it would present the opportunity to erase the misunderstandings that had resulted in their current predicament. Once this Willow Wise granted an opening, Twilight would be able to turn all this trouble into water under the bridge.

But the old mare didn't look particularly giving. As she continued to study the captives, she appeared offended by their presence more than anything. Each passing second that she had to share the same space with them only seemed to make things worse.

Apparently unhappy with the pace of the proceedings, Broken Oak approached her unprompted and gave her his thoughts, saying, "I believe they are close to the wicked Sun; sent personally to strike at us. We should learn what we can from them. If it is true then there's much to gain by having them in our keep."

"And what makes you believe they are close?" asked Willow Wise testingly. There were tingles of doubt in the back of her throat. "They don't look like anything I'd expect from her army."

"They came from afar in a train that was repulsive with her unsightly vainglory," he spat, offended at even the thought of the ornate train. Then he pointed out, "And they must be trusted by her. See the war beasts they bring? A dragon! Monstrous and unforgivably insulting that she sides with them now! And I fought with the ogre myself."

As each increasingly ludicrous statement came out, one after the other, Twilight's jaw only dropped wider. James would have slapped his own face if he could have only gotten his hand free.

Willow Wise reflected on her captain's opinion before she suggested, "Maybe so. Greater than her magic is the Sun's deceptions... It would not be surprising if her chosen hid behind an unusual facade. They may have something more than we can see."

Broken Oak jumped at this, immediately nodding towards Twilight. "They do, great Willow Wise! That one, there, is the true danger! She's undoubtedly one of the Sun's most powerful sorceresses!" he accused venomously. "Even here she was able to assault us with her terrible magic!"

That twisted truth was too much for Twilight to take and, half-buried in the fear that things were slipping out of control, she tried to protest, "What? No, that's not-"

An ear-shattering hoof clap left a small crater in the dirt. Broken Oak hadn't grown any more willing to tolerate a word from them. Staring down Twilight, he roared at her, "You will not speak EXCEPT to answer Lady Willow!"

"But you-" the unicorn frantically started again.

He shook the trees as he stomped right up to her. "SILENCE!"

This time she was quiet, partly intimidated by the explosive force of the stallion. But her goal never left her mind and after several tense seconds she managed to look past him, staring right at the elderly pony. "Lady Willow, if you could just let me-"

Growling, Broken Oak threw his face into hers, their eyes nearly touching. He snorted like a geyser, and Twilight even thought she could smell the acidic anger steaming out of him. He raised a hoof up, tense and shivering with an overflowing strength that was desperately crying out to be used.

"Broken Oak!" Willow Wise called to him like a stern parent.

He froze, still shaking, but then managed to rein in his ire enough to pull back several steps. Even as he went, he never took his fury-filled eyes off the unicorn.

Willow Wise took his place, stepping up in front of Twilight. Mismatched in height, Twilight bent her knees slightly to even things up while she smiled nervously. This was at last going to be her one chance to straighten everything out so it was important that she be deferring and polite.

But she was caught off her readiest guard when the old mare spoke first. With her gray eyes still disapproving and her frowning scowl still disgusted, the mare's tone was at least straight, if mildly superior, when she declared, "You have failed, Sun-witch. Don't insult me by trying to sing your lies and tricks to me, or whatever story your wicked Sun commanded you to tell." Somehow a ringing of concession was in her voice, as if she felt she was being unduly and mercifully generous.

"W-what?" Twilight stammered, beyond flustered. "But, you don't-"

She was silenced with an ashen hoof over her mouth and a single word, uttered with precise and firm control: "No." The old mare then gestured to Poppy, who gave a bow embellished with far too much enthusiasm and then bounced off into a nearby tree, speeding from branch to branch until she disappeared. Turning back to Twilight, Willow Wise held her head up with sure authority and demanded of the unicorn, "Now, prove that you have at least some dignity in your defeat: be silent and answer my questions. I want simple, direct answers."

Twilight at last receded into silence with a nervous swallow and nodded.

Immediately Willow Wise charged her, just shy of courtroom levels of drama, "You have come here into Dryearth Forest, with your fellow saboteurs and your war beasts, on behalf of the wicked Sun, correct?"

"Dryearth...?" Twilight questioned in a whisper before she shook herself back to attention. "We're not-"

"Simple! Direct!" Willow Wise reminded her with warning. "Answer!"

"... Princess Celestia sent us here," Twilight admitted with as much brisk confidence as she could muster in the moment.

The elder pony frowned at the name, obviously recognizing it, but she otherwise only nodded along to the answer that she clearly had expected to hear. She levied her next accusation: "And you're working with the ponies outside the forest? Those that have been slowly building themselves up, in preparation against us? Or were they preparing for your arrival? Those that have already begun acting against us?"

It was a difficult string of questions to answer with the brevity that was being demanded. Twilight quickly perceived that they weren't really questions at all. But she still tried her best and answered, "... The ponies of Hamestown requested our help with-"

Willow Wise cut her off without hesitation. "And you were searching in the forest for us?"

"... We were searching only for clues about who stole supplies from Hamestown and damaged their equipment."

With a huff, the old mare turned away dissatisfied. At the worst, she despised Twilight. At the best, she didn't fully believe the limited answers.

Poppy fell back out of the trees, twirling and landing with unconscious grace. She carried in her mouth a looped string of vine, and swinging below her chin at one end was a medallion of sorts. The base was a small, round hunk of wood, like a tiny segment of a log. Tightly grafted to it on one side was a careful arrangement of crimson crystals; largest on the outside and diminishing inwards, all with a slight outwards bend, like a blooming flower. As with all the others seen in the forest, the glassy minerals glowed subtly from within. It was a very purposeful piece of jewelry.

The spirited filly met up with Willow Wise as the elder pony stepped away from the lineup. After a simple exchange of thanks, praise, and honors, the old mare lowered her head down to the ground and Poppy placed the medallion around her neck. Again she thanked the filly before she faced the line of prisoners once more, tearing them apart with hostile eyes.

With her teeth, she gripped the vine close to the pendant and held it up. She stalked over to Fluttershy at one end of the line and pressed it closer to the flinching pegasus. Fluttershy shook and cowered, tremblingly leery of what the medallion might do. The artifact changed its light very, very slightly but otherwise only continued to glimmer faintly. Willow Wise made no comment and began to gradually walk the line. She stopped in front of Pinkie Pie and held it up to the smiling pony, again with no major discernible effect. Rarity was next in line and this time the crystals grew noticeably much more brighter, but they were still fairly dim and there was no other effect. The elderly pony harrumphed at the white unicorn before moving on.

Spike, Applejack, and Rainbow Dash were all presented before the medallion to a similar result as the first two: a minimum change in the radiating color at the most. Willow Wise slowed down when approaching Twilight, anticipating a different reaction. Sure enough, when she held the pendant up the crystals reacted in a startlingly dynamic way. Their light flared up, burning like fluorescent bulbs, and they started to vibrate and produce a growling hum; a high-pitched gnawing that snuck behind every ear.

Discontented rumblings came up from the crowd of observers; a hundred private conversations publicly trading dark words. Willow Wise's face bent with riled validation and she shot a foul stare at Twilight. "Powerful, indeed," she mumbled grimly at the unicorn. "Finest and most loyal of the wicked Sun's? Specially selected, hm? Yes, I think so." She dropped the medallion out of her mouth and abruptly pointed at Twilight, shouting, "You were sent here to destroy us!" The crowd roared in anger.

Twilight tried another time to protest, desperately pleading, "No! We-"

Willow Wise used her outstretched hoof to silence the unicorn with a stiff slap. More angry cheers came from the crowd. "Curse you. And curse the Sun you serve," she said slowly and seriously. She paced about and called out loud, still addressing Twilight but also making sure that all of her followers could hear, "You have failed! Your Sun will fail! And a day will come when the Dryponies will at last be beyond her horrible-"

It was almost like time had suddenly frozen. While stirring the crowd's passions, Willow Wise had stepped a bit too far past Twilight and in front of James. The crystals underwent another change, and it was such an unexpected change it killed the impromptu speech outright. The crowd's furor died with a gasp. All had wide eyes and motionless hooves. Even the elder mare's old eyes popped so far open that her wrinkled face seemed to stretch back into being young again.

The crystals' light had perished completely. No dim glow, no faint flicker; nothing. No motion, no sound, no color. Only a thin emptiness was found in them now.

With all the delicate speed of a snail, Willow Wise blindly grabbed the medallion again, never once pulling her stare from the man. The air had grown so still and quiet that the clacking or her teeth had the jolting rush of glass shattering in a vacant church. Step by inching step, she pulled closer to James, held the pendant up to him, and the crowd gasped again at what they saw. If the crystals could glow with darkness, if they could eat light instead of give it, then that it what they seemed to be doing.

After several lifeless moments, the crowd burst into a different kind of noise. Questions, given in breaths and whispers, ran from one end of the concourse to the other. Willow Wise locked up, the medallion limply dropping out of her mouth as she stood stupefied in front of the man. Poppy looked at him as if he were a figment of her imagination; some dream fantasy brought to life. She trotted over lightly and then prodded his knees with her hoof to see if he was for real.

James was far from taking the whole event in stride but his overall lack of a reaction came from not understanding a single ounce of what was going on. The whole encounter had started on a grim track that he could at least follow but this bizarre ritual with the pendent had turned everything on its ear. Inside the eyes of the ponies that were staring at him he read that they weren't seeing him; they were seeing something about him. He turned to Twilight with the hope that he could gleam some guidance from her face but it was clear that she was puzzled as well... mostly. While she was obviously still shaken by her frightful confrontation, unmistakably there was also a relentless side of her that was endlessly taking everything in and piecing it together. Something about what was transpiring was giving her more clues, even if he couldn't pick up on them. So... patience, then?

He held still, held his tongue, and let come what may.

Barely recovering, Willow Wise looked between the man and her medallion a dozen or so times. Finally, she gazed up at him in awe and looked into his eyes for what truly felt like the first time, and she said to him, or perhaps herself, "You've come..." Her gusto suddenly returned but with far more positive energy than before. Showing a broad smile, she addressed all her ponies loudly, "The Sun would have used him as a weapon against us! But she has only delivered him to us instead! The Walking Desert!"

Joyful shouts and salvational cheers spread through the Dryponies instantly. Amidst the hurrahs and hurrays, Twilight's company mostly gave James mystified stares. But there was one more pony who also wasn't in line with the revelry.

Broken Oak stood aside with no smile and he released no yells or cheers. He only quietly eyed the man with a grumbling suspicion. This was the same creature he had engaged in a brief scuffle with earlier. It was fair to say that whatever it was which impressed the other Dryponies did not impress him.

But he snapped to attention anyway when Willow Wise suddenly called for him, taking a bow and formally replying, "Yes, Lady Willow?"

"Set this one free," she ordered, directing his attention to James. "It would be insulting for him to be so restrained when I have so much to discuss with him." Then, almost as an afterthought, she dismissively waved at Twilight and the others, "Have the rest of them sealed away. They can wait."

The brutish pony cleared his throat, obviously in objection. "Lady Willow," he said with reserve, "we shouldn't release even a single one of them so carelessly."

"No, we must embrace this opportunity," she reflected, dismissive of his concerns. "The wait has been very long but we see now how things are changing. The tide is shifting in our favor. Don't be stubborn and resist!" She ordered again, "Release him."

The stallion grunted, still disagreeable, but he gave in to her command and signaled to some of the guards. One of the Drypony sentries stepped forward with a knife, approaching James. There was a momentary fright as the guard came with the ready blade but the man swiftly realized its necessity: these bindings that they used on their prisoners (and themselves!) weren't made to come undone. The guardpony carefully wedged the knife in, bladed side away from James, and slashed through the vines that were restraining him.

Willow Wise cried out ecstatically to the crowd, her voice straining to overcome their cheers and acclamations, "Dryponies! We must celebrate! Go, make preparations, Prideheart patriots! We'll sing of Heartwood history and Drypony dreams! Prepare, prepare!"

The crowd dispersed obediently and immediately, running and jumping every which way with irrepressible anticipation. They nearly all scrambled away, busy and dutiful. The small few who lingered behind were all guards under Broken Oak's order and they began squeezing in around Twilight and her friends, corralling them. All except the freshly released James.

The old mare lowered her head before him and apologized, "I am sorry for your treatment thus far, but you will come to understand, I promise. Please, Walking Desert, follow me while we prepare. There are things to speak about!" Her eyes painted the way: up into the enormous tree that she had originally come from.

One last time, James tried to check with Twilight by giving her a glance but the unicorn was too busy being shoved towards the trees by Broken Oak and his guards. Worried and, for the first time in a good while, struck with a sense of lonesomeness that actually felt undesirable, he trepidatiously nodded to Willow Wise and began to follow her.

Chapter 14: Ghosts

Nopony knows the trouble I've seen
Nopony knows my sorrow
Nopony knows the trouble I've seen
Nopony knows but Luna

"Pinkie, please, is this really the time? I have enough of a headache as it is."

Rarity rubbed her red, sore forehead with a whine. She had coaxed Fluttershy into trying to pry off her horn-cap but all she had gotten for it was aching pain and some irritated, itchy skin. The lock on the device had the same vice-like grip as a territorial crab, utterly refusing to let go. Pinkie Pie's incessant singing only added to her headaches.

"Aw, come on!" Pinkie Pie begged, "I barely have a chance to use my jailpony songs! This is the perfect time for them! Oo, oo, I got another one!" She sat with her hind legs stretched open and thumped the ground between them with her forehooves in rhythm. Her jaunty singing came out with a twang like a plucking guitar:

I hear the train a-coming
It's trotting down the line
And I ain't seen no sun light
For quite a long time
I'm stuck in Foalsom Prison
And days keep dragging on

But that train keeps a-trottin'
On down to San Cantone

When I was just a filly
My mama told me, "Girl
Be a stand-up pony
Don't give crime a whirl,"
But I mugged a mare in Mino
Just to get her pie

When I hear that whistle blowing
I lick my lips and sigh

They had all been locked away in some sort of treehouse jail hut. It sat high and isolated in the branches, with no neighboring structures or planks close by. There wasn't a way up to it or down from it except for a small platform that was raised and lowered with pulleys. The Dryponies had ferried them up in groups, releasing them from the leashes that had conjoined them first. Now they were all trapped up there. Even if they managed to slip out of their bars, there was nowhere to go unless either of the pegasi could free their wings.

Their prison was one room; a simple square chamber which was divided in half by the bars which imprisoned them. The sliding cell door, bars and all, was made of some exceptionally sturdy and hardened wood, resistant to even a mighty buck from Applejack. Thankfully, it wasn't a cramped and claustrophobic space but was instead sizable enough for them to spread out and get some breathing room. However, they had no accommodations other than a barred window which overlooked the concourse and a single dingy mat which covered part of the unpolished, splintery wooden floor. If they needed so much as a drink they had to call to the two guards who were stationed just outside the hut door, on a small access balcony.

"Try again, Fluttershy. I think we're making progress," Rarity requested, already twinging in expectation of the slow, wrenching pain. She couldn't make up her mind as to whether the atrocious horn piece was a worse horror than the damage she was doing to her precious horn and skin, and every several minutes she alternated between seeking assistance and crying for mercy.

"Oh gosh, I don't know Rarity, I don't think I'm doing any good at all. Its really stuck on there. Are you sure you're alright?" Fluttershy asked with reservation. As the soreness on the unicorn's head had grown worse, the pegasus' cautious pulls had only grown weaker.

While the two continued to grapple over Rarity's prison garb and her schizophrenic attitude towards it, Rainbow Dash still hadn't given up on trying to free herself. However, as this point she was mostly trying to flex her wings with half-strength pushes in between minutes of heavy breathing and gasping for air. The smell of her sweat was soaked into the the very vines that she was trying to break. She had worked herself into exhaustion.

"Applejack... come on... try... the knot... again," she wheezed, at last collapsing onto the floor.

"Ain't gonna do no good," the farm pony returned plainly. She was reared up, resting her chin on her crossed forelegs, themselves at ease on the thin windowsill. Her eyes lazily wandered the concourse below, keeping up with the stirring activities of the Dryponies as they rushed to and fro, preparing for something.

"Maybe it's... just about... to give," Rainbow Dash breathed.

"Naw, it was only getting tighter when I fiddled with it. That's a knot for keeps, that is," Applejack dryly expressed. "Unless we get something to do some cutting, you're just gonna hafta deal, Rainbow. Sorry."

The tired pegasus let her head plunk against the floor and laid there quietly, her raspy breath kicking up small clouds of dust. She pulled her head back up after a moment to look at Twilight. The unicorn was pacing relentlessly back and forth in the rear of the cell, her eyes always half-down towards the ground and her mouth always running in whispers to herself.

"How about now, Twilight?" Rainbow Dash asked, voice unhopeful and just shy of disdain. "Can you blast that thing off and free us NOW?"

Spike, still coiled in vines and gag as completely as ever, bounced up from the corner he was sitting in. He stared with wide-eyed anticipation at the pondering unicorn.

Twilight held still for a moment before shaking her head, knowing she was going to disappoint. "No. I... I shouldn't."

Murmuring through his gag, Spike sat back down.

"Come on, Twilight! Why?" Rainbow Dash complained.

"James is free. He might be able to-"

"To do what?" the exasperated pony interjected. She eased herself up into a sitting position and blew hot air out of the side of her mouth. Rolling a hoof in the space next to her head, she snorted with bitter sarcasm, "Yeah, antisocial war guy is really going to talk these headcase ponies into trotting off of their warpath. Just how RELIABLE has he seemed to you, Twilight?"

The targeted intensity in that one word hit its mark dead on. Twilight immediately thought of the man's inconsistent attitude over the past weeks; his passive lethargy that had pinned him down at the library unless somepony else had come along to drag him out; his unyielding insistence that he was alright even when he had been presented with concerns to the contrary; his aggressive unwillingness to ever speak with her about his personal issues. Even when they had been working to solve Hamestown's problems he had isolated himself, like he had been running his own investigation and would only offer his insight when he had been prompted. He hadn't been working with the team, or perhaps he hadn't wanted to.

But she wasn't going to give up. Not anymore.

Hesitant, Twilight tried to express, "Whatever his personal problems are, that's a different issue. Right here, right now, we may need him. The Princess probably thought it would be a good idea for him to come along because he might be able to offer a unique perspective that can-"

"Perspective?" Rainbow Dash dimly laughed, shaking her head. "I bet right now his 'perspective' is that he's already out of this trouble and he doesn't have a reason to stick his neck out for us..." She stabbed Twilight with her eyes and continued, "... cause he certainly didn't seem to care at all when you tried to stick your neck out for him."

Twilight dipped her head. But though melancholy tried to nip at her, its bite had no teeth. In the content of her friend's words she saw memories of James failing to respond to her attempts to help; the darkness and depression he had left her with when she had felt that she had failed. But in the sound of her friend's voice she heard the echoes of loyalty. As always, Rainbow Dash was just trying to protect, in her own way, the ponies dearest to her. Even if it was in an incredibly brash way. The ferocious mother hen side of her friend was asserting itself. In that moment, the unicorn felt thankful to have such a friend.

But be that as it was, escape wasn't the answer here. The route this conversation was taking wasn't helping Rainbow Dash understand that. Twilight needed to come in from a different angle.

The pegasus slammed one solid hoof onto the waiting other with determined action and insisted, "The only way we're ever going to get out of here is if we get ourselves out!"

"No, that's not the only way. We can't let that be the only way," Twilight responded steadily. She sat down in front of her friend. "Look, Rainbow Dash, these... Dryponies already don't like us at all. For whatever reason that is. They're not going to like us any better if we break out of this cell."

Rainbow Dash pulled her head back with a raised eyebrow, the unexpected twist bewildering her. Perplexed, she questioned, "So? What does that matter? Aren't they the ones that have been sabotaging Hamestown?"

"Well, yes, but-" Twilight admitted.

The pegasus determined, "They're villains, Twilight!"

"No!" the unicorn rejected, adding, "I mean, there's something more going on here. I don't know what it is... These ponies have been here for who knows how long but they only started to be trouble very recently." Why? Again her eyes fell into clear rumination.

James had suggested military reasoning. That supplies had been taken and 'weapons' broken in preparation for an attack. But why had they waited so long for that? However, she remembered he had also admitted a reverse scenario was entirely possible. The Dryponies could have done the same thing in an effort to defend themselves by thwarting possible aggression. That fit; they hid until they had believed they were forced to act.

But again, why?

The Dryponies hated Princess Celestia. They had never once used her name, always calling her the "wicked Sun" instead. There was no doubt that Willow Wise had recognized the name when Twilight had spoken it however. Somehow, someway, these ponies were convinced that the Princess was their persecuting enemy, and thus the unicorn and her friends also by association; her hopes for even council had been doomed from the start.

Was it tied to the Dryponies' obvious reviling of magic? For a very, very long time the Princess had wielded Harmony, one of the ultimate magics; it was only recently that it had been given over to Twilight and her friends. Perhaps they rejected Princess Celestia because they knew her as that powerful source of magic? And then on the opposite side of the matter they had readily accepted James, she presumed, because he is magically inert? The second half sounded right at least, but the first... No, no, they had been too specific with their loathing of the Princess. It was something more personal.

But AGAIN, why? What produced this deep-set abhorrence? What missing link tied everything together?

Rainbow Dash frowned. "How much of all this do you really think is a misunderstanding?" she doubtfully questioned. "I mean, they jumped us out of the blue."

A great control came upon Twilight. She was solid and certain in body, and unshakably serious in her eyes. Her words came out with force but at the same time they were completely bare of anger or hostility. Biting maybe, but venomless. Stern maybe, but wise. Hard maybe, but honest. "You know, you keep accusing James of seeing this like some sort of battle, but how are you really being any different?" she asked rhetorically. "You're the one insisting that they're the bad guys. That we need to forcefully break ourselves out."

The pegasus paused, hey eyes twitching and rolling away. She stammered, "Yeah, but, I mean, uh... they... you heard them! They think that WE'RE the bad guys! Out to destroy them!"

"And we'd only be reinforcing their view if we start fighting back," responded Twilight with confident discernment. "Breaking out wouldn't do anything to show them otherwise."

Unconvinced silence spread out from Rainbow Dash. She didn't look ready to surrender, but her fight ran away from her.

Twilight implored, "We're never going to solve this if we can't give them a reason to trust us."

"... And how do we do that from here?" asked Rainbow Dash. The question was devoid of struggle, asked honestly and openly, though the pegasus held on to all her reserve.

"For our part, all we can do is sit tight. It's up to James right now."

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes, scarcely able to believe the situation they had gotten themselves into: caged like zoo animals with the unsteady, soldier foreigner as their goodwill ambassador. "And if he screws up or makes things worse?" she inquired deliberately.

The unicorn didn't answer.

Applejack, still leaning on the windowsill, perked her head up. Her attention had been seized very suddenly. She pushed herself up and bent forward to get her eyes right up to the bars of the window. "Uh... something's going on down there," she called back warily. "I think y'all better come see this!"

At the top of the ramp was the open doorway into the grand tree. No door; just an archway decorated in flowered vines and hanging strings that held gems and items of whittled wood. Following Willow Wise, James passed through and got his first look at the inside of the palace hollow. It wasn't quite a palace in grandeur; though there was beauty in abundance, there was a certain plainness to it all that echoed humility. Crystals were used to line some doorways and stairs, and more hung from the ceilings like chandeliers, but they didn't feel like flauntings of wealth. They were merely taken from the ample supply of the nearby lake and their easy glow kept the rooms lit. Carpets of simple leaf and grass weren't laid as adornment but to ease walking about the carved grain of the wood. Artistic embellishments were everywhere: murals painted from crushed flowers, carved figurines, engravings and reliefs on walls and banisters, and hanging things and upright fixtures made from crystals. A reverent quality was in them all; placed not for beauty and made only for worship.

The main chamber was broad and tall like the foyer of a theater. It couldn't have taken up the entirety of the tree's depth, not simply because of the trunk's mammoth size; stairs on either side ran up into rooms unseen and occasional doorways passed into halls unknown. The far center had a gathering space that was complete with a ring of short, wooden blocks to use as seats, hewn from the floor. It was partly surrounded with slightly curved walls sporting shelves filled with bark-skinned tomes and assorted knick-knacks. A fat flowerpot of glowing crystals sat in the wall like a hearth, dusting the dry rugs with its multicolored light.

Willow Wise lead him to the gathering space and swept a hoof out, inviting, "Please, sit down."

Obediently he did, selecting one of the stiff seats at random.

The old mare started to ease herself onto a seat of her own but halted when she noticed a few other Dryponies coming down one of the stairways and through the chamber. They slowed down, taking long stares at the man as they went. She turned to go over to them, excusing herself politely, "Do relax and be comfortable. I will tend to you in but a moment."

James kept himself from eavesdropping on whatever she was saying to the other ponies. Aside from still being a little overwhelmed by everything that was happening, he held a strict desire to avoid drawing any suspicion from the old mare. She had handled Twilight with incredible hostility, and he had no idea where her geniality towards him had come from. There was no telling how easily that switch could be flicked if he wasn't careful.

The overheard tone of her voice didn't make whatever she was saying sound terribly important anyway. Certainly not worth the risk. He was keenly aware that he was the only one free and therefore some weight of unwanted responsibility rested solely upon him. Worse that he hadn't the faintest conception of why he had been set free while the others had stayed imprisoned. Of all the times to be without Twilight...

He gazed about to see if maybe he could draw in some information from the environment, though he considered it a remote hope. The depictions on the walls, whether mural or engraving, were elegant and ornate, but somehow they still reminded him more of a collage of family portraits hanging in a living room than a display of museum pieces. Some were images of other Dryponies, obvious from the distinctive markings about their right eyes. But there were other images also. One seemed to be the forest past, with only the beginnings of a village. There was a relief of crystalline caves that almost looked like an enormous geode. One of the smaller murals was a castle-city upon a mountain, very similar to Canterlot. However, the air of harmony was disturbingly absent from the image, leaving it dark and dismal, and the painter had given a certain gross gaudiness to the entire city.

Eying the many items on the shelves, one thing in particular caught his attention. Sitting on one of the low shelves was the whittled figurine of a solitary unicorn. Through Twilight, he had picked up upon the peculiarity of absent unicorns here. The story of abandoned unicorn infants that had been told on the train rested in his mind as well. What was most unusual to him was that this pony figurine here was shown in armor, wearing also a helmet with a brushy crest. The armor of a Royal Guard? There was something so familiar about the tiny statue, too. Had he seen it before? There was some recognizable resemblance of strength and dedication, but to what he frustratingly couldn't place. The uneasiness in him befuddled his recall.

Willow Wise returned after a few minutes, with the other ponies departing out the front. The old mare rested down in the seat she had chosen before. Then, with patient gratitude, so strange compared to what James had seen of her just outside, she said, "I must apologize again, Walking Desert."

He couldn't reasonably run from this situation. Some way or another he would have to engage with her. But no matter how polite she was now, he worried that a single instance of misspeaking might turn her back into that obstinate pony who had aggressively shutdown Twilight. Speaking lightly and deliberately, trying to test the waters, he said, "It's James, actually. My name, that is."

The mare drew her head back and studied him. "Hm... is that what they call you?" she asked, hiding an accusation in her words.

"No, it's... it's my name," he answered, trying to steer clear of all the conspiracy. "It's what my parents called me."

This time, Willow Wise hummed sincerely. Looking him over again, she asked, "And what does it mean?"

Immediately he felt a nervous shudder. Weakly, he replied, "Mean? It means... uh... James. I don't know."

"I am sorry," the old mare swiftly apologized. She could tell she had flustered him and she actually seemed genuinely remorseful she had done so. Like a parent clearing the air with their child, she explained to him, "Here, we remember always names, for they can have much significance. We've known your name since before you were here."

Again he noted that she seemed to see everything through a single lens. One part of him still hoped to keep their conversation out of that realm but another side recognized how committed she was; how impossibly silly it was to think he could dance around it. Still, he quickly spoke up and rambled, "Well, I mean, I'm sure my name has a meaning, it's just... I don't know it, or even why my parents picked it." What a thing to have never asked them when he had the chance. He guessed aloud, "It could be taken from an old story, this... apostle guy. Or I guess great grandpa's name was also James."

"Ah," Willow Wise's eyes lit up, "so, family and history are important to you then?"

James stopped for a quiet moment of reflection, then definitively and resolutely responded, "Yes."

"Then that is something we share!" the old mare proclaimed proudly. "You will learn of OUR history and family quite soon."

"That would be good," he decided. "To be honest, I'm... kind of in the dark here."

A grim anger bubbled up in Willow Wise. Indignant at something invisible, she told him, "Yes, I'm not surprised. The wicked Sun, for all her 'light', loves to keep others drowned in darkness."

There she went again. Losing faith, he tried to clarify, "No, I mean, I don't know anything about you or the other ponies here."

But the mare only pointed at him and declared, "You see? She would send you here to act against us without ever letting you know what you were truly doing! She would make you her blind weapon."

Hopeless. He looked away and uttered, "I wasn't sent here... I chose to come along with the others..."

Willow Wise's lips curled doubtfully. With plain intention, she asked, "Are you certain you did?"

And in that moment, James wondered if he truly had. Princess Celestia had claimed to have left him with the choice to come along or not, but he couldn't remember anymore if, when he had made his decision, he had ever felt like the choice was actually his. Had she made the choice for him, guiding him into it? He remembered that even in casual conversation she had been sometimes tricky... or... had that been just playfulness, and was this remembered deceit new to his recall?

That didn't seem like the kind of pony she was. In the beginning the Princess had spared him because she was a leader who valued compassion. That's what she had claimed anyway... no... wait... that was what he had determined. Only after pressing her enough about it had she claimed it. She had then welcomed him to tag along because... why exactly? She had known something more about what was going on here but she had never revealed it. Why? She had thought... he could HELP with this? Somehow? Or maybe in the beginning, when she had first interrogated him... she had seen the soldier he was and had spared him because she had plans for that aspect of him?

He remembered he had initially protested her offer of going. Actually, wait, no... he had in fact decided not to go at one point. But then he had gone anyway... and... had told Twilight that the Princess had asked him? Now he couldn't even determine which words were real and which were the makings of his own mind.

The dissonance that filled his head churned violently, like rolling rocks beating against the sides of his skull. Everything and nothing made sense at the same time. He KNEW some of the things Willow Wise had said or implied didn't make sense but he couldn't shutter out the thought that they somehow had. And the Princess... Princess Celestia's thoughts and actions...

For some reason, in a brief flash, he thought about his father.

The long silence that James emitted was all the confirmation the old mare needed. She spoke, "Whatever you believe you were given was only her way of getting you to serve her ends. The wicked Sun has only ever had in mind for you... only what she can use you for." The mare leaned in close to him and, with words that came softly yet boldly, as if she were liberating him with some great truth, she said, "That is who she is. She serves only herself."

The two irreconcilable worlds continued to battle away in his mind, giving him a sore headache. But somewhere in his humanity he also knew that, of these two realities, one of them lead to a more terrible existence than the other. And with a wishing hopefulness, not born up from the solid foundation of confirmed knowledge, he took a stand and contended quietly, "Considering everything I've seen... that's a little much to believe."

But with each and every word that came out of his mouth, Willow Wise's face sunk more and more with displeasure. Seeing that, he started to feel gasps of panic and his stand against her distorted reality immediately faltered. He fumbled out, "Granted, I don't really know the Princess that well."

"The truth of her character is well known to us here," the mare insisted firmly. "We do not forget her great and selfish betrayal."

The sudden lead was like a single, blue break in an infinite batch of blackened storm clouds. It knocked some of the confusion out of the man and, asserting better control over himself, he pressed gently, "What betrayal?"

Disappointingly, Willow Wise only answered, "You shall see... soon."

When she saw his posture, all her aged experience was quick to inform her that he was discouraged. Mistaking the reasons for his dejection, she softened again and said comfortingly, "You will come to understand, but you must hear it from more than me. We, Dryponies all, will show you the truth."

James sat quietly a moment longer but then suddenly braced himself. Leaning in with a bowed head, he asked extra politely and with a bit of masked nervousness, "With all respect, Lady Willow, they say that the truth is in the eye of the beholder. If I may be allowed to ask... why do I take your truth over the Princess's?"

As he feared, she did not take his question calmly. Her eyes flared, her lips furled, and her teeth ground together. But to his surprise, she was still so caught up in her vision that he could feel most of her displeasure projecting away from him, being shot like vengeful arrows towards Canterlot. "Why would you ever take her 'truth' at all?" she snarled. "Because in her vanity she coats herself in glory? She holds herself up as a princess, above others? She stylizes herself an inerrant wellspring of greatness and power, that should be worshiped? Bah!" The old mare spat out a disgusted breath and then hissed in warning, "She is a jealous Sun, tolerating no 'truth' but her own. When she shines, she must outdo all other sources of light. No star can glimmer on her watch! She even dimmed the light of her own sister!"

"Princess Luna, you mean?" James perked up, curious. "She's not... trapped in the moon or whatever anymore. She's free now."

Willow Wise reined in her ranting but she looked at him with dubious belief.

He gestured towards the door, out where Twilight and her friends were, somewhere. "The others... did something... they... helped the sisters reconcile." It was too recent a current event to have been in any of the books he had been given. Now he wished he had picked Twilight's brain about it more.

"Doubtless another story to color your vision," the old mare mumbled harshly.

"No, she IS free. I... I met Princess Luna. Very... very, very briefly," admitted the man.

It was on the one night they had been back in Canterlot. After sulking in the garden, drained of life and wishing for a forgetful sleep, he had sought out a guard and had asked to be led to his room. On the way there, under the glow of the rising moon, he had encountered her. Dark and blue, shimmering like the serene, starry sky, had been the Princess of the Moon. The Princess of Night.

They had hardly exchanged more than greetings in passing though. He had been swift to shut down any potential conversation; both from the day's exhausting toil having had slain him and a fixed belief against Princess Celestia's recommendation that he speak with the Moon Princess. Princess Celestia's... recommendation? Now that he thought back on it... it certainly could have been coincidence that he had run into Princess Luna in the early night. That was her castle too, and the chance meeting had been during her hour. But... what were the odds? Could that Sun have tried to set it up...?

He rubbed his face hard. What were these thoughts in his head?

Clearing his eyes, he focused on Willow Wise again and could see how wearily unsatisfied she was with how this encounter was proceeding. Whatever she thought he was had certainly given her predictions that didn't match with how he was presenting himself. However, he still thought that the bizarre favor she had been giving him was perhaps all that was saving him and maybe also the only chance at saving this whole quagmire. He worried about losing it. Straightening himself up, he tried to look respectful and bowed again, saying, "I apologize. I'm not trying to be disagreeable, Lady Willow. It's just... I'm, uh..."

"You are lost, I can see," she finished for him. Her knowledgeable eyes cut into him. "Belonging somewhere, but not able to find your way there. Being trapped, stolen away from where you're needed. Separated from the sinew of your soul."

Her words washed over him and touched him. She was right. A deep sadness settled into his still body, floating with every breath and ringing with every ache.

But it didn't last long. He was broken out of it as she continued speaking, morphing into a tirade, growing ever more hostile and aggressive, "Manipulated. Told lies. Abused. Turned into a tool for the tasks of others. We will clear your confusion. You were MEANT to come here."

These words passed through him completely unheeded, almost unheard even. Nothing about them resonated anywhere inside of him. They were wrong.

"Apologies again," he said quietly, "but I don't like that thought."

"It is natural to be afraid of destiny," Willow Wise stated, the old caring mother coming out of her again.

"I don't know if it's fear," the man intoned with certainty, "but destiny and I had a pretty bad falling out recently."

"You will feel that because the duties of destiny are not meant to be easy ones. Our Drypony destiny is meant to challenge us," the old mare asserted. She held a hoof out towards him, inviting, "The mystery of your coming shows... that your destiny is linked to ours."

Before he could deny her, a heavy humming rose up from outside. It was deep and rumbling, moving through air and tree with equal power. It rose and fell, growing louder and stronger with each rising.

Willow Wise stood up. "Ah! Come! The time is soon," she told him.

"Time for what?" he asked as he got up.

"History."

She lead him out of the palace hollow, but instead of going down the ramp they stood off on the side of the balcony where they could get an uninterrupted view of the concourse.

Down below, the Dryponies had set up a thin fire pit in the very center of the area, and they now had a wide, dancing blaze burning away. Several ponies tended to it, keeping it controlled and letting not a single ember escape. But still, the flickering orange light that it cast consumed the forest. The trees and shrubs and huts bathed in the dreaming light, and the darkness that ran between them seemed to deepen. From out of the shadows of the village, the rest of the ponies gathered around the crackling flames. The entire village was coming together. Each who found a place began to hum from the bottom of their lungs, low and trembling. Louder, then softer. Louder, then softer. It grew mightier with each voice that joined. Their harmony was like the tumbling of waves along the shore, rising with the tide.

Neither James nor Willow Wise turned from the hypnotic scene, but the old mare raised her voice, announcing to him, "Long ago we came to Dryearth Forest and adopted Heartwood as our home. All Dryponies live one history that we remember here together, always. We know who we are. We are Prideheart's pack! Stand witness, Walking Desert! And give your attention as they begin. Learn!"

When the last Drypony found their place in the expanding circles of ponies, the sound changed. The ponies on the outside began to stamp their hooves against the beaten earth in a simple rhythm, like drums keeping time. Then others, closer to the center, did likewise, but their strikes were faster, stronger, and more dynamic. The two rhythms ran in parallel, overlapping here and there, and together they were a melody of thunder. At last, as the storm of stamps carried on, the ponies closest to the fire began to sing in a low, booming, united voice:

Ho-hum! Ho-hum!
Heartwood fire and blaze begun
Ho-hum! Ho-hum!
Enemies now hear our drum
Ho-hum! Ho-hum!
They run! They run!
Flee back to their wicked Sun

Heartwood home, Dryponies stay
Vile magic here can't lay
Earth guard us from foul spell
Safe in your green arms we dwell

Ho-hum! Ho-hum!
Life fought hard and so hard won
Ho-hum! Ho-hum!
Strength together not outdone
Ho-hum! Ho-hum!
Now one! Now one!
Can hunt us now, there are none

Wicked Sun a traitor true
Hid away in sky of blue
Prideheart fought the dark alone
Never did Wicked atone

Ho-hum! Ho-hum!
To her light we won't succumb
Ho-Hum! Ho-hum!
We wait until the time has come
Ho-Hum! Ho-hum!
No Sun! No Sun!
Freedom from the evil one

She seeks so to hide her shame
On us she lays unjust blame
Our lives again she will claim
But our fight she will not tame
Ho-hum! Ho-hum!
Now one! Now one!
Ho-hum! Ho-hum!
No Sun! No Sun!

The crowds backed away from the fire, revealing two ponies who stayed standing close to it. They stood on opposite sides of the blaze, staring each other down through the inferno. Though the rest of the ponies had moved back to give the two space, they continued to pound their rhythm into the earth and roll their hums through the air.

James couldn't mistake who one of the remaining ponies was. Those thick legs and that massive size; Broken Oak stood on the nearer side of the fire. But he was dressed in a costume! Or so the man presumed, given the theatrics on display before him. A lightened bark, dyed in golden yellow, was fitted over the stallion's body. It appeared like some kind of wooden armor. On the pony's head was a matching bark helmet, complete with a crest of white leaves. Again, James realized he was seeing the almost misplaced iconography of a Royal Guard.

There was another strange oddity about this depiction, though. Built into the helmet, jutting out like a unicorn's horn, was a crystal. It shined softly, like the others found in the village.

The pony on the other side of the fire had a much more extensive costume. Draped over his body was a mesh of teardrop-shaped leaves, sewn together, all flowing in the same direction like scales on a lizard. Thin pine cones, prickly and sharp, ran along his back, from neck to tail. Some even were tied up in the end his tail; a club of spikes. On his back, built from stick and leaves, was a frame which resembled bat wings. A mask was fitted over his face, also sewn up with scaly leaves, giving him a long snout filled with carved wooden fangs. Set just above the pony's eyes, the mask had two eyes of its own: small jewels, blood red in color, burning darkly. On the top of the dragon-visage were three wooden horns; two curved back, and one sat on the forehead and came out with a crooked spiral.

Broken Oak and the other pony began to stalk about the fire, walking slowly in circles around it. They were always on opposite sides and never did they tear their stares away from each other. But they moved differently. Broken Oak walked a straight circle, having only his head turned towards the other pony and always keeping his broad side to the blaze. The dragon-pony sidestepped about, facing the fire and Broken Oak head on.

James shifted uncomfortably where he stood, the déjà vu like a stone in his shoe.

As the two crept around the burning bonfire, they began to sing, trading off verses. First Broken Oak, then the other pony:

Prideheart proud!

Made of strength and honor bore

Protect one and all, I serve

Give loyalty and life for

Even they that undeserve

Wryzard wrath!

Terror of beyond the sea

Darkness wing and magic breath

Power mine and I decree

Worship me or worship death

Prideheart trust!

Shadow over Canterlot

With promise words the Sun swore

Her magic to dragon fought

To make blackened cloud no more

Wryzard crush!

On my prey I do not spy

Harmony or light of sun

You, dear fool, are left with lie

Who stops me now? I count one

Prideheart courage!

Wicked Sun has fled away

Abandoned the dragon strife

But I stand now without sway

I protect these with my life

Wryzard curse!

Pony magic, worthless shield

Evil magic my dread sword

Mercy soft, I will not yield

Suffer now your dark reward

At this, the two stopped moving. 'Wryzard' began to stomp wildly and heave loudly. Those ponies who were behind him joined in, mimicking his rage. As their craze heightened, raising their moans and calls to discordant screams, the wind they generated blasted the embers of the fire towards Broken Oak.

Defiant, the massive stallion stood unflinching as the sparks and flames whipped within a few inches of licking him. The ponies behind him watched in reverent silence. Eventually, when the fervor of the dragon's crowd peaked, Broken Oak 'collapsed' to his knees; all part of the performance. He laid his head low to the ground before he suddenly thrust the crystal horn on the helmet into the earth. With a violent twist, he snapped the crystal apart. Its simple light faded away.

'Prideheart,' horn broken and now defeated, held a hoof over his right eye, as if he were wounded. The dragon and his crowd calmed their noise to a simmer, but they looked ready to begin another storm at any time.

From behind the dragon, a mare emerged from the crowd. She herself was not in costume but on her back she bore a carved figurine. Although a little hard to see from the height he was upon, James recognized that it was clearly supposed to be Princess Celestia. Though... the depiction was awful and wrong. Wings were sharp like swords, her stance was lordly and domineering, and on her head was a massive and overwrought crown.

The Sun-bearer stood behind the dragon. At the base of the Celestia figurine were six differently colored crystals, and they began to shine with an intense light. The dragon's crowd fell quiet and the lizard himself hung his head down, finding the light unbearable. Silently and unceremoniously, he slunk back into the sea of ponies and disappeared.

Still laying 'wounded' on the ground, Broken Oak sang:

Prideheart fallen!

Strong still, with life not taken

But sight carved and magic lost

Sun's traitor truth, awaken

Mislaid devotion has cost

To that Sun I will not slave

Escape away, we will flee

Mine and my friends I must save

Home lightless and magic free

Many ponies came out of the crowd and picked up the fallen Broken Oak. Together, they went and disappeared into the throng.

The whole gathering then came to silence. No hums, no stamps, no noise but the cracks and pops of the fire. From out of the silent group emerged Poppy, who wore a dress that seemed to have been gifted by the forest itself. A skirt of flowing leaves, a tiara of crystals, vines wrapped like bracelets around her ankles; she was a princess of the forest. Now she sang, in a voice clear and high:

The wicked Sun is up high
She crawls along the vast sky
Always with a jealous eye

She hunts for Drypony

Protected by leaf of tree
Her wrath glare will never see
The day when we will be free

A land for us only

A place where no magic stalks
Away from our hunter hawks
Found by the Desert who Walks

True home for Drypony

Firm against Sun's rancor spite
Hold against her wicked light
Against encroach we must fight

Until our way is free

Heartwood home 'til home supreme
Prideheart's legacy redeem
Fulfill our Drypony dream

A land for us only

Completing her verses, Poppy bowed before the great fire. All the Dryponies, even Willow Wise up on the balcony, did likewise. With a silent prayer, under the flashing flare of their central flame, the ceremony concluded.

James gripped the balcony rail tightly, twisting his hand around it.

"... oh my God...," he whispered dryly.

Author's Note

The two song snippets Pinkie Pie sings are both parodies. The first is an old spiritual called "Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Seen," which has become a cliché jail song (the film Spaceballs may be where most modern audiences are familiar with it.) The second is "Folsom Prison Blues" by the immortal Johnny Cash, solely for pun value.

Chapter 15: Pride

"Uh... Twilight?" Applejack called with trembling hesitation.

"Yeah?" the unicorn returned with equal apprehension.

"We really stepped in it, haven't we?"

"Yeah."

All six ponies, and unforgettable Spike, were clustered around their solitary cell window. Constantly pushing on each other while packing their faces together to catch glimpses of the outside, they had witnessed the whole Drypony ceremony from their vantage point. Watching it had hardly been necessary though. The Drypony song and sound had crashed through the forest like bolts of thunder that could've woken a sleeping stone; a storm that could have been felt inside and out.

With the performance now over, the pony-sardine pile broke from the window and diffused throughout their cell, reclaiming the small comfort of personal space. But even with room to breath, the air felt stiff with tension. The heavy hoof stomps and powerful chants of the ceremony echoed in their ears, and a sense of lurking danger peered at them from every unknown crevice. Ignorance had allowed them to hold on to certain wishful possibilities, but with every crumb of knowledge they gained those hopes seemed to be fading fast. Twilight immediately took to strained pacing, burning a path in the floor.

As usual, Pinkie Pie appeared far less worried about their situation. She brightly contended, "Aw, I didn't think it was that bad! I really kind of liked it actually! Not great for dancing, but it had a nice beat and a bit of a silly sound!" She stamped her own hooves in rhythm; chaotically at first, before quickly falling into a steady pace. She became a toy soldier, marching backing and forth with wooden limbs and a still, set expression on her face. Bringing out a gooey deepness in her voice, pulled from somewhere that wasn't quite fully able to hide her silly charm, she copied the Drypony tune and sang:

Ba-bum! Ba-bum!
Put some frosting on a bun
Ba-bum! Ba-bum!
When you eat don't leave a crumb
Ba-bum! Ba-bum!
So yum! So yum!
I can't think of a cake pun

Even in that darkened moment, the unshakable cheer of the pink pony was able to produce a few low giggles from the others, bolstering their spirits.

By they weren't the only ones affected by the spontaneous song. The two guards still stationed on the balcony outside the prison hut looked into the room with narrow-eyed confusion. The mare and stallion pair had been among the original ambush party who had seized everypony. Since the ambush, the two had always looked upon their prisoners with unchecked contempt; with ridiculing stares peppered in hostile suspicion. Every prisoner had received the same cruel glances... except Pinkie Pie. As Pinkie Pie had continued being Pinkie Pie, they only ever had given her increasingly baffled looks.

While they peeked inside, profoundly lost, Pinkie Pie gave them a polite wave and a hello before they eventually turned back to standing watch, stumped.

Rarity spoke up, uttering sourly, "I'm afraid I wasn't really able to follow it all. Who's this Prideheart?"

Fluttershy shivered. "And that was a dragon, right? I mean, not really of course, it was just a costume, but-"

"Wryzard the Wretched, a Diablerie Dragon," Twilight said, coming to a standstill. "Sort of like a regular dragon but with a horn like a unicorn, making them capable of direct magic." Her eyes dimmed with a serious gloom. "Sinister and poisonous magic."

The only pony to stay staring out the window, Rainbow Dash cranked her neck about to ask with surprise, "Wait, you know about this?"

"No, not really. They used the name in the song and I recognize it from Equestrian history books is all," Twilight clarified. She hardly had to wrack her mind in order to summon up the meager information on the subject. "There's... there's not much to the story at all! They say, four hundred years ago, he came from across the sea and attacked Canterlot, but then he was banished back to where he came from by the Elements of Harmony. And that's it."

"Well," Rarity said lightly, drawing out the word, "suppose there's more to the story than what's written in history books?"

Twilight raised a hoof in a shrug. "I guess," she complained, "but I've never heard of this Prideheart character at all. I mean, this isn't the first time they've used his name but I didn't even realize they were talking about a pony until that song just now!"

"Sounds like he took a lickin' from the dragon before Princess Celestia did her thing," Applejack observed.

"No," Fluttershy earnestly countered, "in their song they said that the Princess didn't come and he protected the city."

"But she had to have come eventually, if the dragon was driven away by the Elements," Rarity pointed out. "They would have been hers at the time."

Beginning her pacing fresh, Twilight took their deductions together and pressed forward. "So, for one reason or another, he steps up and tries to stop the dragon himself, before it can be banished. He gets injured in the process. And..." She tilted her face in consideration and fielded a theory out loud, "... he blames Princess Celestia for it?"

Applejack's words came in like she was continuing Twilight's thoughts, "... gets his friends and folks together and skedaddles past the Pearl Peaks!"

"But why come here?" Rarity wondered. She guessed, "Because it was wild? Didn't you say that no other ponies were able to settle the land?"

"Because of the crystals," Twilight immediately corrected. She pointed to the gem on the tip of her horn cap, using her magic to make it flash unremarkably. "The crystals in this forest absorb magic, even ambient magic that just lingers in the air, and retransmit it as simple light. There must be a network of crystal caverns that run under the center of the forest, and underground springs that push the crystals up to the surface. They're what makes magic so weak here. The rivers also carry crystal sediment out of the forest, which broadens the effect into the surrounding land, though more weakly the further you go from the epicenter." She had pieced together these details awhile ago but it was this new context that they existed in which was so important. She explained to her friends, "The whole experience Prideheart had with the Princess and the dragon must have embittered him towards magic. So, he fled Canterlot and eventually discovered this place, where magic is weak, and founded Heartwood here, right in the center of Dryearth Forest."

Rainbow Dash suddenly chimed in, asking in an appalled way, "Hold on... you're saying these ponies have been here for FOUR HUNDRED YEARS?"

"Well, them and then their descendants. Prideheart is obviously long gone," Twilight reasoned. "But the children of those original pony expatriates have kept what he started here alive. Hiding away from magic, and Equestria, and Princess Celestia. Nursing that grudge for all this time." She came to a halt again and looked down at the floor. Murmuring low, with a whisper both awe-filled and horror-stricken, she said, "Nopony even remembered they came here. We didn't even remember the original name of the forest."

The group fell to silence, each absorbing what their astute friend had revealed and trying to come to grips with everything it meant for them and Equestria.

Or what it meant for them very personally. Fluttershy suddenly broke the still quiet with a gasp of, "The animals!"

"Uh... come again, Fluttershy?" Rarity asked.

Something unknown to the others deeply disturbed the shy pegasus, and she babbled nervously, "T-the animals... the D-Dryponies have... lived w-with... i-in the forest b-but... a-animals said... that t-they don't l-like the p-ponies... a-anymore... s-so..."

As the others gawked at her, unable to interpret her fast, quiet, seemingly aimless rant, she slowly backed down. Drooping onto the ground and burying her face into her forelegs, she whined silently.

"So...," Applejack picked up slowly, unleashing a thought of her own, "what about Beanstalk then? What is it they want with him? Why all the 'oohs' and 'aahs?'"

Twilight nodded. She had already considered that matter fully, too. "They called him 'the Walking Desert.' He's everything they want to be."

"Say what?" the farm pony muttered in confusion.

Yet again dipping into a teacherly mode, the unicorn lectured, "As ponies, we're inherently magical creatures. Unicorns cast spells, pegasi fly and manipulate the weather, and even earth ponies have a mystical connection to the land. But James is entirely and utterly amagical. There's no magic AT ALL where he's from, and no natural magic in him in turn." She pointed with her eyes out to the Drypony guards and asked her friends, "Have you noticed how there's no unicorns around here? How they bind their pegasi's wings? They despise magic here, to the point of avoiding it and denying it to themselves in any way they can. But then James comes along, completely and naturally magic-free..."

Rarity's eyebrow crawled up her forehead. "They're... jealous of him?" she asked, uncertain.

"No," Twilight shook her head. Taking a second to think, she eventually responded with an example, "It'd be like if Starswirl the Bearded suddenly came walking into Ponyville one day."

The purple pony's reference did nothing to alter Rarity's empty stare.

Twilight sighed, her eyes flattening, and with false belief she dully rolled out, "It'd be like if Fancy Pants suddenly came walking into Ponyville one day."

The resulting gasp was like an unstoppable vacuum, ripping the air from the room. "Not THE Fancy Pants! Highest of the high society of Canterlot, more refined than the silkiest and finest of sugars, not a day goes by where he isn't the talk of the town, everything he touches or praises becomes golden, when you abandon ship forget the mares and foals - he comes first, Fancy Pants?!" Rarity fanned herself, whipping up a hurricane and nearly hyperventilating. "Why didn't anypony tell me he was coming to Ponyville! How could you hear about it and not-" Reality quickly caught up to the panicked pony, bashing her squarely on the nose. Taking control of herself, albeit fumbling awkwardly, she coughed into her hoof and simply stated, "I, ah, see your point."

"The Dryponies have to work to avoid magic but James doesn't even have the tiniest drop of magic in his body. He's so popular here because he's basically what they dream about," Twilight commented.

Pinkie Pie scuttled up to her smart friend, pulling alongside the unicorn while giggling all the way. She threw her head against Twilight's and started to sing again. This time she mimicked the high, pitch-perfect singing of Poppy:

Twilight you know you're not wrong
But at the end of the song
They sang of place to belong

A land for them only

The confounded unicorn, pink mane clogging her face and smiling muzzle practically buried in her cheek, looked at her effusive friend and began to say, "Pinkie, what does that have... to... do... with..."

It was like a tape player running out of power and slowly winding down. Her jaw hung like a suspended scaffolding dangling in the wind. Her pupils shrank to pinpoints and there was a slow drain of color from her face, accompanied by the first beads of a cold sweat. In dark whispers, she breathed, "Heartwood was only ever meant to be a temporary home. They still want to escape magic completely. Which means..."

Applejack scratched her head. "Is... that what they want Beanstalk for? They think he can take them away from Equestria to somewhere without magic?"

Having never left the windowsill, Rainbow Dash looked out and fixed her eyes upon Willow Wise and James, both still standing on the balcony of the grand tree. The man's stance was bothered and shaky; the mare stared at him from the side, her eyes stained with bitterness and her face cross. That adoring veneration which they had last seen her with appeared absent. The observing pegasus mused to the others warily, "And... what happens when they find out he can't?"

Immediately Twilight tried to renew her frantic pacing but her legs locked up, dead and stiff. Her mind became so busy and overworked it couldn't get a response from her body. She and her friends had been waiting for the right moment to act; a plan of patience; but maybe time was more limited than they had thought. While they were held away in this tree-borne prison they were at least safe in the immediate sense. But, indeed, what would happen to James if...? What were the Dryponies capable of? Troubled, fearful, and overflowingly anxious, she looked up at the horn-cap sitting on her forehead. Deep in the throes of nervous doubt, she croaked, "M-maybe... it's time to get out of here."

Everypony looked at her, sharing in her worries but willing to listen. All except Rainbow Dash, who was more primed than ever. "Alright! About time!" she cheered as she pushed off from the window.

"W-well, hold on! T-there's a huge risk involved!" the agitated unicorn stepped back. "I'm still weighing the options."

"Oh, come on Twilight!" Rainbow Dash whined, excitement deflating.

"M-maybe James IS in trouble but we don't know that for sure. If we break out though, then it WILL be all or nothing. So, we... we have to be sure," Twilight floundered about.

"I'm sure!" Rainbow Dash protested. "I'm sure that every second he's down there with them they're getting less and less happy with him, so he's not getting anything done, and we have to do something ourselves now!"

Still, Twilight paused indecisively. "If... if only we knew how he was doing down there, then..."

Spike pushed forward, blaring something through his gag loud enough to interrupt the proceedings.

Again Twilight tried to interpret his muffled rambling to no success. The blurred sounds, like a choked horn, didn't have enough definition to be sensible words, and she apologized helplessly, "I'm sorry, Spike. I just can't make out anything you're saying."

He stamped his feet and snapped his tail, spitting a flurry of words out for his gag to distort. But still Twilight shook her head. At last, the dragon moaned in frustrated surrender. But he didn't stand back hopeless or defeated; he stood tall, determined, and tired of inaction. There was a sudden loud snapping; the sound of wound tension being cut straight through, and then the bindings that had been wrapping him so tightly flumped down onto the floor.

It caught all the ponies by surprise. Reaching up with his now free claws, Spike grabbed his gag with one to pull it as far from his face as he could, and then tore through it with his other, making a clean cut. He discarded the severed vines contemptuously and then told Twilight, "I've been saying, I can break free anytime I want, too! I think they were so worried about my breath they didn't pay as much attention to my claws as they should have."

Twilight was stunned. She stood for a moment completely flabbergasted, but her worries didn't escape her for long. She jumped in front of the dragon, hiding him from potential view of the Drypony guards who could look in at any moment. "S-Spike! If they see you've gotten loose..."

"They seem so much more worried about you that I don't think they've even been paying attention to me. They'll notice if any of you are missing but I'm small enough that I think I can slip away unseen," Spike explained the loose logic that drove him. He immediately dashed for the window. "I'll go check on James."

"Spike, wait!" Twilight called.

But it was no good. He didn't heed her words as he leapt up and caught the windowsill. With a few kicks, he was up and over, his little frame just thin enough to slide between the bars with an ounce of squeezing, and he vanished from sight.

Down below, the Dryponies began to break up. Many returned to whatever they had been doing before the ceremony, disappearing between tree trunks or up into branches. A few started to douse the flame and clean up the fire pit. Many others stood about and chatted with those that lingered behind; friends and neighbors discussed the current events like it was a break in a casual town meeting.

Up on the balcony, Willow Wise rose from her respectful bow. "Do you understand who we are now?" she asked James.

"Better...," he replied weakly. "... and worse."

He didn't need an extensive knowledge of psychology or a memorized recall of pony history to get a reasonable grasp on what was going on here. A mythology created around a hero, with a villain, and a destiny which was as splendidly glorious as it was inconsequently inevitable; perhaps it had unique details but this broad story wasn't anything new. And just like so many human stories, they've set it up as an 'us' versus 'them.' Or maybe 'us' versus 'her.'

How could it have ever come to this? Even with all the mystery Princess Celestia had left unsolved through her silent reserve, never had he suspected that they would find something this hostile and desperate out here. Even when the first hints in Hamestown of something dangerous had been revealed, the back of his mind had wished to believe in strange coincidences over spite-filled ponies with inimical convictions. Even when he and the others had been caught in an ambush he had acted only in instinctual response, since the worst possible scenario shouldn't be possible here.

This was Equestria, after all. Maybe it wasn't a world he knew well... but there had been so much talk about what things are the RIGHT things, so many words on the evils of giving an inch to hate or aggression, and so much defense of the magic of friendship. Talk which had been so dearly heartfelt, and incredibly insistent, from a few of these ponies. He had seen a Princess who had spared a living danger, a group of friends who had taken in a stranger, and a farmer and a tinkerer who hadn't even been able to stay mad at each other for five minutes before, in the depths of true remorse, they had sought mutual forgiveness. But yet somehow this culture of enmity was still here before him.

Painfully, the discovery felt like a familiar lesson. This wasn't the first time he had seen more than sugar and gumdrops out of ponies. But the lesson hadn't been taken to heart, and now it was as if every judgment he had made was misinformed. And every time he thought he had corrected it, it was still misinformed.

He whispered, "How can this be?"

"We hold onto our past with iron reverence! It is the bedrock of who we are!" the old mare declared proudly. "If we ever were to forget the legend forged by our hero in the wake of the wicked Sun's foul betrayal, we would cease being the Dryponies we are." She stepped towards him and jabbed a hoof into his belly, telling him, "You must understand and embrace this if you are going to be one of us."

James inched away from her. Quietly, but purposefully, he said, "I can't be one of you."

For a moment, an offended snarl formed upon Willow Wise's face, but it immediately fell away. With a surprising amount of sympathy, she said, "I understand. So lost, you now find yourself hesitant and-"

"No, you don't understand," he interrupted in agitated haste. Feeling off balance, he gripped the nearby rail and took a large breath, fighting to keep himself together. Staying in the Dryponies' good graces may have been the only way for him to successfully help himself, Twilight, and the others, but it appeared more and more that the only possible way to keep from drawing their ire would be to remain totally silent. But the threat that a silent course of action carried... the places it could lead... James was at odds with himself.

Shaking his head in a brittle apology, still hoping vainly that Willow Wise would at least not cast him out, he told her much more calmly, "Lady Willow... I've seen where something like this goes, if you keep taking things in the direction you are. And it doesn't end well for anybody on EITHER side. This battle isn't one that HAS to be fought."

The old mare seemed to struggle to maintain her composure as well. "The battle is hers," she insisted, "and we must defend ourselves!" Again, with pervading sympathy, she tried to explain to him, "Some fights cannot be dodged, and some insults and injuries cannot be suffered soundlessly. It is a hard and wearying choice to make but, to survive, sometimes actions must be taken-"

As her sentences carried on, the man's jumble of confused and conflicted emotions caused him to almost laugh. The absurdity of this pony speaking to him about such outrageous things as the unavoidability of conflict, about 'fighting the good fight,' was otherworldly strange. Willow Wise halted her words when she caught on to how perturbed he was. Her increasing disillusionment with him was written plainly upon her face.

Looking down, James shook his head once more. Though this would be like walking purposefully into the line of fire, he couldn't help himself. He said to the pony, practically lamenting, "Don't... talk to me like you know what I am. I can, and have, stepped through thresholds I can never cross back from. I can make those decisions. I have made them. I'd make'em again if I had to!" He breathed out in exhausted awe. "But there's a time and a place for that. I've been there before. And, for me, it's NOT here and NOT now."

At this point, Willow Wise was actively trying to restrain her swelling anger. With a streak of insult in her voice, she questioned, "What? Would you demand that we don't even try to protect ourselves?"

Protect from what? He complained, "Everybody can defend themselves if they really have to... but you don't have to. You just want to."

Her eyes pierced him. In a boiling growl, she remarked, "I can see you don't understand yet, Walking Desert."

The railing was nearly torn off the balcony when James ripped his hand from it and balled up his shaking fist. He didn't want to be so unsettled about something so silly as a name but on top of everything else that had been going on, including the mayhem that his life had become just a few weeks ago, it was just too much to bear. Somewhere inside he embraced whatever doom he was bringing upon himself. "My name is James," he stated coldly.

"But you are also-" the elderly pony tried to force upon him.

"No! I'm not! I'm James, that's who I am!" His shoulders slunk. Hopeless and almost defeated, he added on softly, "I'm not a pony with a poetic name, and a special skill, and a butt tattoo. I'm just not. And I don't want to be."

With assumed authority, Willow Wise picked her head as high up as it could go, staring down at him despite being shorter, and proclaimed, "It's not about what you want. There are designs grander than yours and you have a part in them whether you realize it or not!" Despite all her anger, it still came across as the practiced rage of a concerned grandmother; as if she knew all the ways of the world and, no matter how the duty tasted to her, it was her responsibility to pass it on. It didn't keep her bitter eyes and great frustration from showing themselves, but the experience and control was undoubtedly there inside of her.

Dismal, shaking a little, and unable to stand straight, James replied both sorrowfully and with his own limited authority, "No. I don't know about magic, and destiny, and how they play together here or what they do for all the decisions you make. But me, I get to choose... for better or for worse, I get to choose for myself. I'm going to be what I want to be. And I won't be one of the Princess's ponies, and I won't be one of your ponies."

Willow Wise stared at him with hard eyes. And she stared and she stared. And then some more. And then, quite suddenly... she pulled back. Sighing with exhaustion, she turned and started to walk inside her palace hollow. She mused very loudly to herself, awash with disbelief, "This is not what I imagined it to be! So resistant and challenging!" Her whole head pricked up with that thought, latching on to it like a hungry fish on a hooked worm. "Of course!" she decided, "A challenge, yes! Our ultimate destiny is to be challenged and this is only part of it! What would it have meant if he had arrived so prepared for us already?"

James, for his part, was also dumbstruck with disbelief. With his helpless yet defiant stance against her, he had been all but certain he would be joining Twilight and others to languish in a cell soon. But again, somehow, even with his open and clear opposition to her, she had deflected all blame away from him. Even with his declaration against being what she wanted him to be, she still found a way to squeeze him into her grand vision; rotating and rearranging the puzzle pieces ceaselessly until she had another configuration that might fit. There was only one version of the world in her mind.

But his astonishment gave way to a sudden burst of confidence. Who knows if he was capable of even doing anything but, if he was so resistant to receiving her wrath, he at least ought to try.

He began to follow after her, calling for her attention. "Lady Willow..."

Excited, enthralled, and expectant once more, she whirled about to face him and said with a smile, "I should not be so daunted by your self-assertion and rigidity in the face of opposition! After all, you are only being like us! Prideheart proud! Strong! Confident! Standing for yourself against great odds as you must, because you must!" In her own mind her interpretation appeared so undeniably correct and retrospectively obvious that she chided herself for having ever thought otherwise.

She quickly genuflected towards him and humbly offered, "It would be despicable of me to take your pride from you. Time, struggle, and patience will win you over to us."

Sighing, James laid clear, "If it can be helped, I'm not going to do anything that would hurt any pony, on either side. Not one of you Dryponies, and not Princess Celestia or her ponies."

Still lightly agitated, and obviously trying to just roll with the punches, Willow Wise commented, "Battle won't be your role anyway."

"Role? Right... and what exactly was this 'Walking Desert' supposed to do?" he asked.

She didn't respond immediately. After a hollow delay, she started to walk towards one of the bending stairways and invited him, "This way. Come see how blessed you are, to be so free of the curse. Come see the profanity of magic; a power that the wicked Sun would uphold; a power that poisons."

Holding off on demanding a straight answer to his question, James followed her as she went up the steps. They led to a hallway on the floor above from which many more chambers sprang off on either side, like leaves spreading from a branch. If the contents that could be seen through the open doorways in passing were anything to go by, the rooms were many-purposed. However, they all shared the same constant decorations that the floor below did: carvings, paintings, and hoofmade trinkets; all placed, mounted, or hung everywhere. Each one was dedicated to depicting some facet of Drypony culture, practice, or ideal.

The old mare lead the man to the only doorway with any semblance of a door. It was no swinging wall of wood though, but a curtain of strings which had leaves of all kinds running down them, blocking sight of the other side. Willow Wise flowed through it without hesitation. James stopped only to take a breath before he crossed through.

The room on the other side was dim, owing to the crystal lamps within only glowing weakly and the door curtain defending against any outside light. This small and round chamber was, more than any other, a shrine to Prideheart. A long, low counter ran the circumference of the room and many small figurines of the pony hero decorated it. Above the counter, murals completely wrapped the walls of the room. Every evocation of his image always depicted him in his armor while standing triumphant and shining.

But, amidst all this imagery of the great Drypony hero, there was a solitary piece that was kept concealed. In the very center, opposite the door, a simple sheet covered the wall, hiding whatever mural was painted there.

Willow Wise paused before it. She stood with an apprehensive anticipation, having to prepare herself to even look at the hidden piece. The waiting moments at least allowed James the chance to take in the rest of the chamber before she showed to him what she had brought him in for. When she was ready, she gripped the edge of the sheet with her teeth and pulled it aside.

James immediately understood why this one depiction of their hero was not usually openly displayed. Of all the innumerable adorations of Prideheart that the Dryponies kept, this was seemingly the only one to show him AFTER his encounter with the dragon.

It was a large sitting portrait. Painted with a three-quarters perspective, Prideheart was sitting quietly and gazing off towards the right. He had abandoned the station of a Royal Guard and thus no longer wore the golden armor that was always otherwise present. Instead he wore only a plain, brown cloak that was pinned together about his neck by a brooch shaped like a round, curved leaf. His white body shone bright against the stained, darkened background, particularly in the gloomy light of the crystals. A strong and prominent gold, his mane flowed down from the top of his head in short, thick, clumpy curls, disappearing into his cloak. The man had the impression that Prideheart himself had sat for this one, probably within the first few years after founding Heartwood.

More immediately distinct than any other details about him were the pony's marked injuries. His right eye was dead; no iris, no pupil, no color; nothing but an empty orb of an incredibly pale shade of green, nearly white. All around the milky marble his fur had receded and his flesh had turned black and rotten, corrupted and festering, peaked and poisoned. Thin, sickly veins pulsed with a toxic color underneath the tainted skin. His whole eye was almost like a bulging boil set upon a putrefying corpse. Spreading from the grotesque ugliness that infected his eye was a solitary streak of corruption. It escaped from the sick organ to his forehead, or perhaps the flow of poison ran the other way; from forehead to eye. The base around his horn had all the same decay as his eye. His horn itself was mostly absent; broken off low, nothing was left but a stump overrun with cracks that pitifully vomited an ill chartreuse light, and ghastly green pustules filled with something unknown and awful grew atop the jagged edges.

It was a horrifying sight to see, and it was no wonder that the bulk of the Dryponies' remembrances were of the prior Prideheart, before his fall. Willow Wise couldn't bear to look at the image for very long; she soon hung her head low, cycled through tired breaths, and wiped her eyes. Conversely, James was drawn in by twisted fascination; disgusted by the contorted physicality of the wounds yet unable to look away. But as he stared, he realized he was seeing even deeper injuries.

The painted Prideheart held his head up with dignity. HELD. It was the fact that he had to hold it up at all that caught the man's attention. All the other iterations of the pony exuded a natural dignity and honor; a proud heroism and a noble spirit that was so present and so inherent to his being that it burst out of him like the sparkling explosions of fireworks. Those Pridehearts WERE strength, honor, chivalry, and all those good things given body and form. But what those depictions flashed so readily and brightly and easily, this wounded Prideheart did only with intention and a determined effort. This Prideheart who was painted from a still sitting of the real pony himself had struggled to maintain his heroic and romantic air. And always carrying that noble burden, always forcing a valorous pride out of himself, quite obviously took its toll. He couldn't have been a very old pony at all and yet there was a sagging, aged tiredness to him; an almost spiritual exhaustion which coated him far more than his simple cloak did.

"Do you see the suffering he bore?" Willow Wise asked, still not daring to glance at the image directly. "The scars he took to protect Equestria when the wicked Sun wouldn't?"

James answered honestly, "I see... a tragedy. Something that shouldn't have happened but regrettably did."

"This is the evil which the curse that is magic can do. This is what the Sun brought upon him," the old mare heaved in disgust. She cast the cover back upon the portrait quickly.

"No," the man disagreed with a twinge of echoing sadness, "the dragon did this to him. And he did it to himself, by stepping up to face the dragon." But before Willow Wise could so much as bend her lip down with the start of a scowl, he leaned in and strongly expressed, "AND Princess Celestia did it to him too, for whatever part she played in it all; in making him feel like he had to act. That's what makes it a tragedy: so many terrible things coming together at once, and the greatest cost of it all unduly laid on someone who only did what they thought they needed to do in the moments they were given.

"And from all that tragedy...," he said as his voice fell. He gazed into a thoughtful emptiness and ran his fingers across his mouth. "... I don't get it... what good comes from making the Princess the devil of it all?"

"She failed him!" the old pony yelled in an spiteful and anguished cry.

"Maybe she did!" James readily admitted. "But that's not her doing THAT to him!" he countered as he flung his hand towards the covered, scarred memorial. Exasperated, he implored, "If she failed him, that's just her... failing! Not-...! I could ask her about all this, if you would be willing to allow me the chance!"

Although she felt stung by suspicion, Willow Wise still only conceived of the man as a cog of fate, some victim brought to them with a purpose, and refused to lay blame upon him. But even so, she hissed with predictions of futility, asking, "And what do you expect the wicked Sun would tell you, hm? More of the NOTHING she has shared with you already? Or more of what she wants you to hear; more manipulations for her own ends?"

Through the murky haze of his worries and doubts, unobscured memories came playing back in his mind like perfectly preserved film strips: Princess Celestia standing in the hall, standing on the balcony, sitting in the study; steeped in a reserved silence with an undisclosed pain behind her eyes. The soft, moving melody of her carefully chosen words on regret. Her owning up to a state of imperfection.

"I don't know what she would tell me," James expressed slowly. "That's half the reason to ask. But I think it would be something... about how she hasn't gotten over how everything happened yet."

"Ha!" the elderly pony snorted sardonically. She stormed out, pressing past the door curtain, tearing through it like a tornado whirling through a cornfield. "You don't know her," she spat with assured confidence.

James didn't hesitate to follow the marching mare out of the room, telling her in turn, "With respect, neither do you! You only know a character that comes from a mythology you've created and honed for... God knows how many years it's been. Maybe I don't know her well but I've at least met her."

Willow Wise faltered for a moment as she walked back down the hall towards the stairs; her hooves clopping mistimed beats as she thought to turn around and say something. Ultimately she didn't speak and just continued on, reaching the stairs.

As they descended, James continued, almost rambling on, "You've been trying to tell me a lot about who Princess Celestia is; trying to convince me who she is; throwing it against what I know about her. But the Princess, she never said anything about you. Because..." He stopped midway down the steps and awakened. He realized aloud, "... because she wanted us to meet you and judge you for ourselves."

The old mare hit the bottom of the stairway and walked on, moaning without looking back, "What?"

But stuck on the stairs and gripped by the claws of revelation, James' mind was too busy turning itself over and he didn't answer her.

A leader who had let a man free out of compassion. A leader who had let a soldier go out of compassion. Which soldier? Him, recently. But maybe a wounded Prideheart too, some long time ago. Whatever the Princess had know about all this, she had never expressed it. And she had never expressed it because Twilight, himself, and the others weren't truly out here to do her specific bidding. They were out here to do the right thing, if they could.

It was a collapsing tower of realizations, crushing him as floor by floor of understanding struck him hard over the head. He was here because HE had chosen to be here. Chosen to ride a train, to investigate a mystery, to walk into a forest; they were his choices that he, himself, had made.

And in a pure, heartfelt instant, he made another choice of his own.

He suddenly raced down the steps and cut in front of Willow Wise. Falling to one knee before her, he locked eyes with her and pleaded with an open palm, "Lady Willow... I know that you are wise. Age and experience, time and life, they built you up into the respected and knowledgeable leader of ponies that you are. So, with all that's just happened, I know that you've noticed how strange some of it has been. Noticed how some things aren't lining up like they should. Haven't you?"

She held herself still before the man. Thoughts and feelings surged between their linked eyes until the mare suddenly turned hers away disquietly. She wasn't answering, but he had struck an uncomfortable nerve somewhere.

"That group of ponies that you had put away, that you think is some kind of strike force," James pressed on, "you had to have noticed they were such an odd bunch for what you were accusing them of? I mean, a farmer, a tailor, a baker...? They're not who should be here if the plan was subversion, right?"

Without picking up her eyes again, Willow Wise said, uncommitted and nearly mumbling, "A disguise... to more effectively hide the witch among them."

"Witch? No. She may be a powerful magic user for sure... that's what I've been told anyway, but I've never really seen it myself. She's not a witch though," emphasized James. "She's a student. She lives and works at a library."

"Only what... only what you've been given to believe so that you might do what is wanted of you." Still a weak and barely mustered response.

"Alright, that's okay, you don't need to take my word for it," he gently proposed. "I know you'll be able to see it for yourself if you would just investigate it honestly." He believed everything he was saying. Although her world conformed to only one solitary view that she stubbornly clung to, the well-worn elements of wisdom were so obvious on her that he could not doubt that she was capable of seeing beyond herself. She only had to start acknowledging that there was more there to see. As much as he could, he tried to keep himself encouraging and sympathetic. After all, he was on her side; just not in the way she believed or wanted him to be.

He tried once more, "Don't you have to ask, 'why?' Why send one unicorn saboteur hidden in a crowd of regular ponies? What's the point? Why not send a whole army of unicorns sweeping through the forest?"

Struggling still, Willow Wise responded with sporadic bursts of hastily cobbled together words, "Only... a few are... mighty enough to... overcome the thirst of the crystals... and they tried... to hide her... hide so we wouldn't... wouldn't suspect..."

Then, angry and seething with a rejecting frustration, she suddenly balked, "What's the point of these questions anyway?!" She turned aside, walking away from the man again, bringing hooves down hard on the wooden floor. "That witch already admitted to her intentions of sabotage!"

"She did? When?" James picked himself up and followed the disgruntled pony, but this time he wasn't so intrusive as to bar her path. "When you were shutting her down every time she tried to speak? You didn't accept anything she had to say unless it was exactly what you wanted to hear. In that case, why were you interrogating her in the first place?"

The old mare came to a stop on her own. Her throat rumbled; a harsh vibrating of her muscles that produced a grainy, buzzing noise. It was like she was forcefully holding herself back from answering.

Supportive and sensitive, he echoed, "I know you're able to understand that there are things out of place here. You're only having a hard time with it because you try so hard to see everything through this narrative that you've built. But shouldn't these oddities be looked at openly and seriously? If the Dryponies' destiny is so essential - so important - isn't trying to understand the full truth then also important? Can you really leave room for doubt?" He started to give his words space, but then jumped to add on, "Set aside the story for a minute and look at the things that you've seen for yourself."

"That I've seen?" she asked back, a darkness sliding into her voice. She spun around to face James directly. Now stern and completely unreserved, she blared, "Yes, let's speak then about 'what I've seen for myself.' Our enemies continue to build themselves up on our border! They dig in, more and more! And they've been waging a slow and deliberate campaign of aggression upon us! In our mercy, we've allowed them to stay there for far too long!"

James pulled back. Her sudden force was surprising. But, more startling, her certainty about these claims wasn't floating and faithful, puffed up with hopeful self-reassurance like so many of her other beliefs. It was quite real and tangible. "They... they what?"

"They stir the creatures of the forest, wielding them against us!" Willow Wise vehemently accused. Her words raged out, whipping and burning like fire. "Driving ravenous animals into our gathering grounds; taking our food! Shifting the patrols of predators and directing them towards us! Subtle acts of sabotage to weaken us and whittle us down, striking at us with the forest because they know that they cannot face us directly without the support of their awful magic!" She ground her teeth with vengeful anger.

A pit of nervous doubt opened up in the man's stomach, stalling his forward momentum. No immediate words came to him. This was, no doubt, a legitimate grievance on the part of the Dryponies. The animal trouble which the frontiersponies suspected they had been having was ACTUALLY happening to the Dryponies. And it was happening BECAUSE of the frontiersponies. But it wasn't on purpose! It had to have been a side effect of settlement's expansion.

Willow Wise noticed how he fumbled and delayed as he tried to generate a response and shadows of vindication started to creep up in her. James in turn saw the surety and sense of justified indignation which consumed her and he knew he had to say try and say SOMETHING, so he desperately explained, "The- the ponies of the settlement... they don't- they don't even know you're here! They can't... take you into account when they try to work with the ecosystem of the forest! They- they don't know what they're causing to happen here!"

He felt much less convincing as he pleaded, and indeed Willow Wise took him as such. Unconvinced, stark, bitter, and sarcastic, she grumbled, "Oh, how convenient for them. How woefully unfortunate for us. They get to strike ignorantly with all their innocence intact but protecting ourselves makes us villains."

James tried to fight back, "You need to understand-"

But much like with Twilight, she struck him down with a hoof to his mouth and a lone, controlling word: "No."

His sense of immunity deflated. He withdrew. When the old mare lowered her hoof down and set his mouth free, he said no more.

"We've spoken enough, for now," she decided as she turned away from him another time. With all her fuming temper ringing in each of her steps, she carried herself towards the exit archway, the haunted air of Heartwood just outside. Loud, but still under her breath, she complained to herself, "Broken Oak may have been right."

As she went, James followed no more.

She stopped under the archway to look back at him. Wavering indecisively between her weakened echoes of sympathy and her still bubbling anger, she asked seriously, "If I command you to stay right here, would you?"

The man shuffled over to the same floor-hewn seat he had sat in earlier and answered bleakly, "You don't have to command. You just have to ask."

The old mare frowned and gave a gloomy harrumph. She turned and went, her even paced clops fading down the ramp.

With a sigh, James took a moment to balance out his breathing before he dropped back into the seat. It was hardly possible to tell if he was making mistakes or doing the right thing. It was hard not to act in the face of this centuries old grudge and all the tragedies it could lead to, but now he felt he had judged himself correctly before: he was no diplomat. Maybe his blind stumbling in the dark had only added fuel to the bonfire that the Dryponies gathered around every time they danced and sang, reciting the tales scorched into their memory. Or maybe it wouldn't have mattered if he was a stellar negotiator, given how terrible his judgment and assumptions about ponies always seemed to be. What's more, hundreds of years of hate was no small thing to overcome.

There was a dark seed that had been planted here a very long time ago. Now, after so many years of waiting, it was so close to blossoming that the Dryponies could feel tingling anticipation in their bones and taste sweetly satisfying promises in the air. What possible way was there to convince them to kill this growth before it bore tragic fruit?

Though the active whispers of the forest, the living sounds of Heartwood breathing, floated into the hollow, he felt alone. The shaking of branches didn't stir him, the rolling murmurs of busy Dryponies somewhere on the ground or in the trees didn't move him, and the creaking scratches and secretive, snake-like hissings-

Wait, what?

"Psst!"

James glanced about, quickly tracing the noise to a window behind him. He ran his eyes in a circle across the room, unsure what was going on or even if he was alone or not.

"Psssst!"

He got up and quietly made his way towards the window where he carefully peaked his head out.

"Spike?!"

Chapter 17: Challenge

James rushed back out onto the balcony to survey the situation.

Down below, Broken Oak emerged from the tent of stolen Hamestown supplies, rolling a barrel before himself. He wheeled it a little up the concourse to a spot near the tree line where the branches hung low and the trees were wide and concealing. There, he smashed his hoof upon the sideways drum like a hammer driving a nail in one go. The tremendous force caused the barrel to crack down its side, and one end of it popped open and spilled out several small glass jars of honey. The massive pony and some of his subordinates then set about opening a few of the jars and dumping the golden bait upon the forest floor in to a gooey puddle. A few other Dryponies sweetened the already compelling prize by sprinkling berries all over it.

With the bait set, Broken Oak gave a whistle to his crew and they all dashed for cover; leaping into the branches or ducking behind the trees.

It was just in time, too. Heavy thump after heavy thump rattled the forest on the opposite side of the ambush point. The weighty sound drew closer, backed with the occasional breaking snap of twigs and swishing brush of shrubs. Growling breaths hissed as scratchy sniffs searched the air.

From the tree line appeared not one but two large bears. Though they looked round and plump, it was all an illusion; their unmistakably powerful muscles could be seen bulging and flexing beneath their shaggy brown fur with each of their stomps as they stalked forward into the concourse. Their jaws hung slightly open, with their slobber-glistened, dagger-like teeth visible and filtering their low growls. Their solid eyes were plugged deep in their angry faces, and they halted after a few steps in order to peer about the area.

He didn't know what it was about them but James had the impression that they were a couple; a bear pair; 'til death do they part, and so forth. They just had an odd synchronicity to their searching movements, like they knew each other intimately and each of them unconsciously understood what the other would do. They were also growling between themselves, maybe an exchange of words that only they could understand. There was something unsteady between them. Were they nervous? It was almost like they were bickering.

Their noses pulsed rapidly, feeling out the air. Both simultaneously picked up on the savory traces of honey that floated off the bait and their heads turned towards the suspiciously fortuitous banquet. One of the bears started to lumber forward; his hungry tongue dangled out of his mouth and dripped saliva as he went. The other bear glanced about strangely and then gave a louder, shaking growl to her partner. The first bear stopped for a moment, cranking his head back, and the two hissed at each other in disagreement. Whatever was being said, the first bear won out and both bears started to cross the concourse, heading straight for the trap.

James looked on and, from the vantage point of the balcony, he could just barely make out a few of the ponies who were hidden behind trunk and leaf. They were preparing themselves to make their move. This powder keg was about to go off.

The man suddenly scrambled down the ramp of the great tree. He beat his hand upon the rail as he went, raising a racket, and let up a bouncing whistle as loud as he could.

It worked insofar as it immediately got the bears' attention. Both stopped their crossing and shifted to face him. Neither bear looked particularly pleased to see him; there was a furious unhappiness in the way they stared at him. The first bear raised his growling into a near roar. He flashed his teeth and struck the earth hard as he changed course and plodded a few steps towards the man.

Their frightening reaction got James to stop near the bottom of the ramp, where he clung to the rail with an anxious grip, dumbstruck. This wasn't a comfortable situation to be in unarmed. Or even if he were equipped, maybe nothing would have changed. He felt strangely restricted in how he could act and it eroded his confidence. This would have been a risk to life and limb that he would normally have been prepared to face with a stolid sense of duty but the only solution he had before himself, diplomacy, ran counter to every last ounce of his common sense.

He didn't even have any ursine knowledge! No way of measuring the bears' reactions and no way of knowing which of his own actions would be the completely wrong ones; no way to tell how close the bear could approach before beating a retreat would be futile; he wasn't even sure if the cliché honey bait had actually been appropriate. And if the fierce and irate gaze of the oncoming bear wasn't enough, he could also feel incensed eyes hiding in the trees; somewhere in there Broken Oak was absolutely livid at his interference.

Desperately James tried to recall any words Fluttershy might have uttered about communicating with animals, particularly dangerous animals like this, but his memories were all a jumbled blur in the uncomfortable panic of the moment. The only thing he could positively remember is that she believed he was capable of such communication. She believed in him. In the face of this grisly animal marching towards him he felt like a raving idiot to even try negotiating but there was nowhere else to go but blindly forwards.

"Hey...," he let out lightly to the bear who was inching closer to the ramp. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't completely hide the jumpy shake in his submissive voice. "Easy there, big guy... I don't mean any trouble. See?" He held his hands up in surrender.

The bear stopped but he didn't seem to be in the mood to pleasantly talk things out. He forcefully emitted his loudest growl yet and his lips quivered as the demanding noise burst out of his mouth. 'Scram!' or some other such threat.

"Okay... okay... I'm not here to get in your way... uh, technically," James rambled. He eased an impossibly slow step back. "I just don't want you going near that honey is all-"

A fire lit in the bear's eyes and he snarled. Rising like a mountain on the horizon, he stood up on his hind legs. His massive claws hung in front of him, ready to rend through a steel beam like it was paper.

James felt dwarfed by the monstrously sized creature. The bear was nearly one and a half times his height. The brown bundle of muscle had always appeared large (this was a bear after all) but, now that the untamed predator's maximum size had been revealed, the man gained a true, terrified appreciation for just how massive this beast was. Without a weapon, he had never held even a fanciful delusion that he stood a chance if it came physical conflict with the bear, but seeing the animal fully ready to unleash hell unlocked a new, dreadful understanding of how quick and merciless his demise would be in such a worst case scenario.

He still would have preferred some direct course of action over this bizarre and insane attempt at stalling though. The words dribbled out of him as he took another shady step back, "Oh! I... I... you... you're... really huge! I, uh... I can't... this isn't a confrontation, you understand. I just... I... I'm not trying to stop you..." He swallowed once a took a breath. "... but, that honey-"

The bear unleashed a heavy, reverberating roar and smashed his front paws back down onto the ground. He started to rush his way forward, picking up speed; crashing along like a boulder tumbling thunderously down a hill.

This was such a suicidal idea. Why had he even done this, again?

James tried to scramble backwards up the ramp, too fixated on the savage charge of the bear to even turn around. He climbed up several hurried, wild paces before his feet finally missed a beat in his uncoordinated escape and he slipped backwards onto his butt. He tried to grab the rail to pick himself up but, between being so far out of his element and all the delirious sweat on his palm, his hand couldn't seem to cling to it.

The bear swiftly reached the base of the ramp where he suddenly eased into a stalking crawl, planting one paw before the other as he took step by step up. Eyes unwavering, fixed intently on the man, the frothy saliva rolled off the beast's teeth as a hostile snarl came rumbling out.

James couldn't get his stupid hand on the damn rail! He couldn't understand what it was about the intensity of the moment that kept his grip from working and hindered his legs from being steady. If he could just fight back...! But no, he was doing this to buy time for Fluttershy. "Now... now look... I obviously can't... stop you or anything," James' mouth raced along, still with a desperate hope that the pegasus had known what she was talking about. "So... so maybe... if we could just... wait a minute here and... and... and..." He gazed at the ravenous mouth, lined with teeth, wet and thick; the claws that came down with each step, shaking the ramp with their weight and scratching the wood; he listened to heinous and hungry growl coming right at him.

"... you don't care about a thing I'm saying, do you?"

The bear kept on with his angry approach, indifferent to man's words.

James resigned himself to only having pure action left. Technically, letting the bear maul his soon-to-be corpse while he spouted more pointless words would have counted as a successful diversion, but he couldn't have accepted keeping on with that failed, pointless negotiation anymore. And just like that, it was suddenly as if he was in full control of his body again. His hand seized on the rail, choking it with a firm and secure grip, and his legs filled with a ready strength. He reasserted control over his breathing and steadied himself for whatever last ditch physical effort he was going to make.

But she came down from the trees like a diving hawk first.

"Stop this right now!" Fluttershy demanded in a stern voice as she swooped in. She came right between them, where she hovered and faced down the bear. Her attitude was solid and serious, reflected in her unshaken eyes and the tough, steady beat of her wings. Her voice held full, confident command but was empty of rage. It wasn't even overbearing. Her request was an uncompromising order that was not devoid of her trademark compassion.

It was enough of a surprise entrance to halt the bear's ascent. His noise wiggled once as he snorted a bewildered grunt, but he quickly decided he didn't care for this new intruder any more than he did for the man. What's more, all these distractions were getting immensely frustrating. He seized every last bit of air in his cavernous lungs and belted out a fierce roar, flinging spit at the pegasus.

But remarkably Fluttershy's mood was completely unaffected as the sound passed her by, battering her mane and tail about but not even so much as causing her to flinch. The stint in the cell had given her all the time she needed to fully imagine what the conflict between the frontiersponies and the Dryponies could mean for the animals of the forest. No matter how much trembling fear she had standing before this enraged bear, it was a pitiful pittance next to her fear of what could be if she didn't act now. And so, even struck with terror, not a sliver of it showed from underneath her shield of courage.

Like a professional sales clerk handling a rowdy, belligerent customer, she politely but seriously admonished him, "Sir! You need to calm down!"

The bear could scarcely believe it. Had he done something wrong with his roar? Not enough 'rrrr?' Too much 'huoagh?' Had he shown enough teeth? Was something stuck in them? Just to be sure, he swallowed a titanic breath and roared again, paying extra attention to his ferocity and form.

But the pegasus was still unmoved. She insisted again, "Please, sir, you must calm down!" Carefully, she drifted in a bit closer and reached a gentle hoof out towards him.

Utterly stunned by how indomitable the pegasus was, the bear instinctively and aggressively reacted to her offering by snapping at her, trying to catch her leg in his jaws.

She whipped her hoof in with a slight backwards flutter, barely avoiding the loss of her limb. She gasped; not from being startled though. Her eyes started burning and her face hardened. She was profoundly offended.

"SIR!" she cried with more authority than ever before. Her gaze stabbed straight into the bear's eyes. "THAT WAS NOT NICE!"

There was a short, quiet moment where the bear was simply stupefied. He tried roaring again but there was something so much more unsure and hesitant about it this time.

With the situation falling under her control, and without losing any of her assured seriousness, Fluttershy gave off a conciliatory and reasonable aura and asserted, "Again, you have to calm down, sir! I can't understand you when you're yelling like that!"

Once more the bear responded angrily, but his growling reply felt weaker and more uncertain than ever.

Many lengths behind him, the other bear, who had been watching the whole proceeding in stone silence, suddenly shook her whole body. Her shaggy coat ruffled in waves as her great girth shifted back and forth disappointedly. She hissed something to her partner dimly; a throaty grumble full of both shame and a dark laughter.

"Now ma'am, that doesn't help," Fluttershy called out to her. "I'm sure he's absolutely the most cuddliest gentlebear ever when he's calm. But all this anger isn't doing anypony any good. Please, calm down!"

The first bear turned his head back and snarled something towards his other half; bear words that were full of anger, embarrassment, and intimate friction. Without hesitation, she responded in kind. Before long it seemed like Fluttershy, James, the honey, the Dryponies, and everything else just dropped from their conversation as it slide into nothing more than a spat filled with jabs and barbs, complaints and gripes, moans and whines, and all manner of relationship rivalry. The second bear marched forward as she tossed bitter and sarcastic groans about. The other bit back with stomps and snorts, because he had everything under control; calm your paws lady geez; don't do this here; can't take her anywhere these days. He turned about and tromped back down the ramp, meeting her at the base for a grating, snout-to-snout exchange.

Fluttershy contently let them hash out their disagreements, waiting patiently in front of James. She hovered in placed and watched keenly as the bears continued to verbally lay into each other, back and forth, then back and forth some more, until at last they settled into a tense silence.

Finally, the first bear lowered his head a little and, with downcast eyes, growled something gruff, mildly apologetic, and just a teensy bit affectionate. The other bear was caught by surprise but she recovered quickly enough to return the sentiment fondly. They both looked directly at each other and then lightly rubbed their noses together in forgiveness.

"Now that's so much better. Thank you very much," Fluttershy breathed in a warm, happy sigh. She landed on the ramp and folded her wings behind her back. "Take another minute for yourselves and I'll be with you two in just a second, okay?" she told the bears.

Flipping around to face James, the stoic heroism that had kept her panic at bay seemed to fly right out of her. Leaning forwards towards him, her eyes flooded with worry and she fearfully asked in a rush, "Oh gosh, are you alright? You're not hurt, are you?"

In a way, the man wasn't at all surprised by how well and how confidently Fluttershy had managed to handle the situation. It was just like before. Even under crippling pressure she could pull through for the sake of others. That was her true strength. It had still been an impressive sight though, and it took him a moment to collect his wits before he could respond. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," he said as he pulled himself up. "Just barely... um... pardon the pun."

"Oh, good!" she replied with relief, unraveling the tightly twisted knot in her throat.

Satisfied that he was safe, some steadfastness drifted back into her as she returned her attention to the bears. She quickly descended the ramp, stood before them, and invited, "Now then, whenever you're ready, I'd be ever so glad to listen to your problems. What's gotten you so worked up?"

The first bear looked like he wanted to roar again, with all his recent fury still staining his attitude. However, the second bear nudged him so as to remind him to keep his temper in check and then stepped forward herself. She also had a kind of rage in her but it was more controlled and bubbling under the surface. In murmuring grunts and grumbles, she relaid their story to Fluttershy.

The patient pegasus paid particularly polite attention to every last sound the bear made. It was obvious that Fluttershy was straining to make sure she got it all in straight: ears were perked and forward, eyes were frozen upon the bear's mouth, and there was hardly any motion from her at all. She still wasn't accustomed to whatever animal dialect was used in this wilderness but her superior listening efforts seemed to be working. She nodded along to the bear's short tale, letting up increasingly agitated interjections: "Mhmm. Mhmm. Oh. Oh, I see. Oh! Oh, no! That's just terrible!"

When the story was finished, she bobbed her head and told them sympathetically, "Well, I completely understand. But don't you think that by coming in and taking their food you're really only causing more problems in the long run?"

Both bears snarled identically in rejection of something she had said.

"Oh, I know, I know. I didn't mean it like that. It's everypony's," she apologized. "What I meant was that the situation is always going to be like this, or get worse, if somepony doesn't try to make a better change."

There was a low rumbling from the bears that was understanding but indignant in equal measure.

Fluttershy thought for a moment. "Hmm... I know!" She dusted off and floated past the animals. From the broken barrel next to the baited trap, she scooped up two unopened jars of honey into her forelegs. Carrying them back to the bears, she carefully placed one on each of their heads and then said, "Why don't you take these back for now, to help you get by? In the meantime, I promise that we'll try to fix everything here, okay?"

The two bears seemed to discuss it among themselves briefly while balancing the golden treasures on their heads before the first bear let out a harsh, worried, and resentful sound.

"Oh, no. I know I don't have any right to tell you that you can't," Fluttershy honestly surrendered before she continued with devout commitment, "but I promise that we're going to try to make everything right."

Again, the bears held a small council. They shortly reached a conclusion that didn't sound like they were fully satisfied but they were accepting of it nonetheless. With tentatively thanking grunts, they turned and started ambling back the way they had come from, shuffling their paws deliberately and steadily in order to keep their heads and cargo straight. They eventually disappeared into the trees with swishes and snaps, just the same as when they had arrived.

No sooner had the bears vanished out of sight did the concourse explode with activity. Dryponies began emerging from every conceivable branch and from behind every trunk. Half a dozen Dryponies leapt out from the leaves and crashed into Fluttershy, tackling her to the ground.

"Woah! Hey, stop!" James cried out as he rushed down and off the ramp.

Broken Oak suddenly appeared and blocked his path, holding a halting hoof up at him and striking him with contempt-filled eyes.

A crowd started to form around the scene, much like when the intruders had first been marched into Heartwood. However, something had changed. Many had witnessed Fluttershy diffuse the bear crisis and they couldn't place her behavior into any comfortable thought. Others noticed the Walking Desert's obvious objection to the pegasus' treatment. And as Broken Oak signaled to his guards to get her bound up again, they saw that the enemy pony herself strangely offered absolutely no resistance. Even Willow Wise and Poppy, who had turned up with the rest of the crowd, seemed to wear tremendously different faces than before as they watched the proceedings.

Some of the guards stood Fluttershy up while others brought out some fresh vine-rope and began binding her wings again. In marked contrast to her first capture, there were no cries for help and no panicked struggle. She simply stood and took it. Something far more important was on her mind.

She stared at Broken Oak the entire time, her face dour and her eyes busy with an upset animosity (or whatever was the closest despicable feeling she was capable of.) When the mighty stallion happened to glance her way and catch the resentful, sorrowful gleam in her eye, he gave her a hostile stare in retaliation. But then she shouted to him painfully, "They were only trying to find food for their cubs!"

Broken Oak didn't understand her protest at first; he was so preoccupied with thoughts of the wicked Sun and her schemes that he had all but forgotten about the bears. When he realized what the agitated pegasus was referring to, he contended in a growl not so very different from their recent intruders', "It's OUR food."

Fluttershy shook her head. Sad, disturbed, and even despairing, she countered, "No! Some of this is stolen from Hamestown! And the rest isn't yours! It's the forest's! It's for all the animals to share, including you! You've been taking too much from the foraging grounds of other animals! They're going hungry!"

"Then that's too bad for them," Broken Oak hissed. He spoke with a tone like he was accusing the pegasus directly, "Your friends at the settlement began this; setting the animals upon our traditional grounds to take our food; slowly strangling us. Now, we take what we need. If there isn't enough for the rest, then there isn't enough."

"There is enough!" James suddenly cut in, stepping forward. The crowds' eyes descended upon him with awed curiosity. Broken Oak's did as well, though more with aggravated enmity than wonder.

The man explained, intentionally loud enough for the crowd to hear, "Yes, this started with the changes they're making at Hamestown... but it wasn't on purpose. The work they're doing there... it's had an effect on the foraging patterns of some animals, and in turn an effect on the hunting patterns of others. They... they thought they had it all accounted for but they didn't. BECAUSE THEY DON'T KNOW THAT YOU'RE HERE!"

Though the crowd came to life with hushed whispers, Broken Oak only stepped towards him with unassailable suspicion.

"You need to work with the ponies there to address this!" James pleaded.

That suggestion was too much for Broken Oak to bear. He shook the forest with an unbelievably loud stamp and snorted like an engine blasting out steam. It interrupted James, as well as the crowd's open musing, and all fell back to attentive silence. It was clear that the furious stallion wanted to levy some kind of accusation against the man, but he was deeply aware of the faith of the crowd, along with their watchful eyes. Most specifically, he was aware of Willow Wise. He held his tongue for the moment.

Considering Fluttershy once more, the brawny stallion looked between the now restrained pegasus and the heights of the trees. "How did she escape?" he demanded of the open air, searching for an answer from anypony willing to give it. When there was no reply, his face fell dark and he bitterly spat, "That witch, I'll bet..."

Poppy wriggled uncomfortably where she stood. After a few guilty moments, she took a step forward.

But before she could open her mouth, James interceded, "It was me! I set her free!"

Again, the crowd stirred and traded awestruck gossip, more loudly than before.

However, the gulf of spite between Broken Oak and the man only deepened. Ripping at the man with skeptical eyes, the stallion questioned in roar, "How?"

The negative feelings between them were quickly becoming mutual. James couldn't help but be a little snide towards the abrasive pony while he distorted the truth. Or rather, omitted most of it. "I'm the Walking Desert, that's how," he chimed haughtily. "I can do such things. You know, in my infinite greatness."

Broken Oak caught the unmistakable insult coming from the man's voice and he practically couldn't contain his flaring temper. He stomped closer and, barely managing to keep his own voice low enough to stay out of the ears of the crowd, he accused, "You're working against us."

With Willow Wise, James had the compassion to have begged and pleaded sincerely. But with this jerk, the patience just wasn't there to handle things in the same way. He shouted at Broken Oak, harsh and acidic, "Did you even see what JUST HAPPENED? I got Fluttershy out because she knows how to properly handle animals like that! Unlike you, I might add!" He swung his arm towards the honey trap, his voice awash with disbelief and sarcasm, "What, did you forget the box and the stick?"

Each drop of a hoof was an explosive crash as the furious stallion marched right up to James. He was just about to throw himself into the man; to unleash all his barely restrained power and pent up anger, when he again remembered that everypony was staring. It was just enough to arrest him. Grinding his teeth, he snorted once into the man's face and then turned off to the side.

Unwilling to let James get away with whatever he was playing at but knowing that he couldn't strike against him directly (yet,) Broken Oak called out to Willow Wise, "Lady Willow, I believe that we're taking far too many risks here." He eyed the man with more suspicion. "He's set free prisoners; he's tried to convince us drop our guard against the ponies of the settlement. He MAY..." the stallion distastefully spat the word, using it only as a compromise, "... still be an agent of the wicked Sun."

Fearful gasps spread through the crowd. They took to frantic, skeptical, and wary conversation.

James tried to protest firmly over the noise of the crowd, "No! I make my own choices!" His words seemed to become lost amidst the confusion, however.

"We shouldn't delay anymore!" Broken Oak insisted, stepping over to Willow Wise and nearly pressing himself into her. As he continued to vigorously beseech her, his booming words overtook the rumbling of the surrounding crowd, "We mustn't be passive any longer, least we give them more opportunities to subvert us! The witch's coming has shown that now is a critical hour! We must act! No more waiting!"

Things quickly dimmed to a deaf silence as everything seemed to fall upon the Drypony chief.

But this apparently wasn't the same Willow Wise who had lead the fervor of the crowd the last time; the same who had ruthlessly interrogated Twilight; the same who had coldly sniffed out the magic in each of the prisoners. Her face still had a leaderly sternness to it but this time it was like it was thrown over something else hastily; something inside that couldn't blindly take charge as it had done before. She seemed to wobble with uncertainty as she kept looking between James and Fluttershy.

At last she slowly began, with words that echoed in uncommitted indifference, "These... are perilous and fated times. We... we must exercise caution with what we do; it is in our careful steps that we tread to our destiny. So... we cannot... we cannot take certain chances..."

Everypony there; Broken Oak, Poppy, the crowd, Fluttershy, even James; seemed to lean in towards her expectantly, hoping for different things.

"Thus... you... you... You may proceed, Broken Oak," she weakly decided.

The stallion gave a dark smile, eager to get to work. He immediately whistled and stamped instructions to his guards. Several raced off into the trees and the rest seized Fluttershy to drag her away as she screamed in protest on behalf all the animals that were being harmed. As Broken Oak joined up with them, hauling the pegasus down the concourse towards the lake, an excitement bled its way into the crowd. For as much mystery and doubt as they had, there was something in them that felt the anticipation that comes before a grand crescendo and they had to follow along, just to see.

As the crowd moved on, James watched in despair. He saw that Willow Wise lagged behind, following them in the utterly slowest steps possible, her head dangling low. He rushed to her side. "Lady Willow! What- what's he going to do?"

She pulled her head up for a moment, just to say somberly, "Act."

"What? What does that mean?" the man wheezed.

"We've waited, hidden in Heartwood, for so very long. Some of them can't... anymore..." Her words dried up and she marched along quietly, head down again.

James scrutinized her as she passed, walking away towards an unknown fate. His helpless gaze followed her as she joined the rest of the crowd by the lakeside, surrounding Broken Oak as the stallion lead them on with some form of patriotic speech. He felt alone.

Almost.

Standing a few paces away, Poppy hadn't joined the others. She stood staring at him, lost in her eyes.

Noticing her, James immediately went over and bent down. "Thank you," he said to her in deep honesty.

She blushed lightly at the gratitude, but she still didn't understand something. She looked over at the crowd, then back to the man, and asked, "Why did-"

"I think you did the right thing, helping me out," he explained to her. "And sometimes doing the right thing does mean you'll get in trouble for what you do; maybe some others, even others that you care about, maybe they'll like you less or think worse of you." He got down on a knee, patted her shoulder, and gave a wink, saying, "But I figured, this time anyway, you don't deserve that, and I'd take the heat instead. Wouldn't want the future leader of the Heartwood Guard to have a tarnished record just cause she was bold enough to do the right thing."

The little filly looked up at him with a turn of her head. In that moment, she even looked up TO him. She suddenly jumped forwards and grabbed his leg in a hug. He hugged her right back, softly rubbing the rear of her neck.

"What about... your friends?" she asked, worried.

"I don't know," he replied quietly.

He got up, and together they went to follow the crowd.

Chapter 18: Mind

On the far end of the concourse the crowd of buzzing Dryponies swarmed around the lakeside. Amidst their chattery clutter they left a spacious hole where stood Willow Wise, James, and Poppy. They were giving their chief and the mysterious stranger some respectful yet curious breathing room. Broken Oak waited next to the water, and close by were the guards watching over Fluttershy. The entire event simmered with gloomy anticipation until finally the other prisoners were brought down and marched through the crowd to join their pegasus friend.

Applejack and Rainbow Dash were shoved forward by a sizable squad of ill-tempered guards who were keeping the resistant ponies in line. The two carried themselves along sluggish and slow, if only to spite the ponies who were so harshly directing them with unnecessary and forceful hooves.

In contrast, Rarity and Pinkie Pie were lead along by only the two jail guards, who had come down from the cell with them. They watched and guided their two charges protectively; whenever some other Drypony came to join their escort, they would wave off the help. They insisted on handling the task alone, quite intently noticing how Applejack and Rainbow Dash were being treated by their comrades.

Even how the two jail guards carried themselves was unlike the other Dryponies. The others were so full of nasty repugnance and haughty pride, but these two guards had some measure of embarrassment in their attitudes. Maybe they were ashamed that one of their prisoners had recently escaped from right under their noses; Broken Oak certainly looked them over with great disappointment. However, that didn't quite seem to be the whole of it...

A single guard carried poor Spike, riding on his back. Since being recaptured, the dragon had been bound like a mummy; he was wrapped practically head to toe in vines. Arms were more securely tied up, legs were glued together, vines were so far up his face it blinded him, and even his tail was bundled up in there somewhere. There was little more he could do than wiggle like a worm.

Twilight was pushed along last by a group of leery and trustless guards who were almost afraid she would fling deadly spells about at any moment. She was as attentive as ever: she observed the attitudes of Broken Oak and his guards, studied the loathing stares of the crowd, noticed the strange change about Willow Wise, and saw James was still free and unharmed. She took it all in, desperately working to figure out a plan, although she remained calm and collected on the outside.

While the guards brought the prisoners together, balled them up tightly, and surrounded them, Twilight looked past her captors and met her eyes with James'. Through his, he communicated only doubt and despair. But she saw something more. Despite Rainbow Dash's misgivings, she saw that he had been fighting for the right thing this whole time. That he hadn't been passive or selfish. However, he seemed like he was running out of steam now. Every corner turned had been a new dead end. He didn't know how he could interfere with whatever was about to happen.

Rainbow Dash looked over at the man too, the reddish color of her eyes deepening. She saw him standing free and idle alongside Willow Wise. He hung out with the villains, accomplished nothing, and wasn't interceding when her friends were being handled and harassed. She despised him.

The crowd started to settle into a hushed silence as the guards finally got the prisoners fully together and secured. Broken Oak approached the captives and hardly even took a moment to think before he decided whom he wanted to start with. He hooked Twilight about her neck with his hoof and dragged her violently away from her protesting friends. The crowd's spirit ignited instantly and they roared with pleasure. The rough stallion aggressively flung her down onto her knees at the very edge of the water and lined his hoof up behind her head.

"Answer!" he demanded, spewing out the word with callous vitriol. "What is the wicked Sun's plan?!"

Twilight looked like she had a straightforward answer ready to go; an honest admission to there being no malicious plan, no deceitful scheme, or anything of that sort. But she didn't say anything. She knew it would be a pointless plea; that the savage, stubborn stallion wouldn't accept that truth. More than that, though, was that she had a contrary reaction to his barbaric behavior, similar in a way to how James did; she didn't even want to dignify his hostility with a response. She wasn't going to play his game.

"Answer!" Broken Oak screamed again. He shoved her head down into the water and held her under, much to the enthralled delight of the crowd.

Applejack and Rainbow Dash immediately tried to break through their guards, shouting angrily at Broken Oak. As they struggled and cried out with impassioned energy, it required more and more guards to keep them at bay. Drypony after Drypony was drained away from the sidelines or from watching the others in order to hold the two back. Applejack in particular drew the most guards; she was a superpony torrent of unstoppable fury.

James was horrified by the torturous turn that the interrogation had taken. He immediately turned to Willow Wise and begged, "Stop this! Please!"

The old mare watched it all quietly, buried under her beliefs even as stains of uncomfortable doubt spread into them. Out of the side of her mouth she responded dimly, surrendering all responsibility, "This is Broken Oak's investigation now..."

"Do you even realize what you're doing?!" the man contested, distraught. "You don't need to interrogate them like this! You can just ASK THEM what you want to know! Honestly and openly! You haven't even tried that yet and you've jumped straight to... to this insanity!"

Words came out of the slack-jawed Willow Wise automatically, without any thought or conviction, "They... they might lie about-"

"Well they won't!" He was practically screaming his desperate pleas. Not that the crowd would have heard him over their own enthused hollering at the grisly display before them. "I know that they won't if you talk to them and treat them with respect! And even if you don't believe me on that yet, you never even tried that route! Why won't you even try?!"

She stood still and silent, with eyes that never tore away from Broken Oak. Her body strained to maintain her posture, besieged by unspoken uncertainties and questionable regrets.

Poppy moaned while she watched everything uncomfortably. She had been so thrilled and gleeful to see Broken Oak deliver an aggressive lesson to Rainbow Dash earlier but suddenly, this time around, it wasn't exciting anymore. The ponies they had captured had grown a little bit beyond being formless enemies. They were a little bit more individual; more special; more real. Friends of a friend. This just seemed pointlessly cruel. Worse was that she loved Broken Oak. He was a mentor and essentially a brother to her. It hurt to see him like this.

The powerful stallion dunked Twilight several times. He screamed harsh questions and threats between each submersion, demanding details of nonexistent plans or probing for weaknesses in the wicked Sun's schemes. However he never got a single answer, so he only threw her under and held her down deeper and longer. The crowd soaked it all up at first but as progress became thin they grew impatient, boggled by how even Broken Oak's might couldn't extract anything from the unicorn.

Applejack grew more and more impatient too. She had over half a dozen guards on her who were trying to hold her back. Some had hooves around her neck, others were on the ground valiantly clinging to her limbs; they were like living balls and chains locked onto the furious farm pony. She practically dragged them along as she tried to pull herself towards her friend in need. Her mouth was firing off angry statements at Broken Oak endlessly; a cannon with no shortage of fuses and ammo. She nearly overcame the noise of the crowd by herself as she blared, "You get your hooves offa her, varmint! You just wait 'til I get to you! Don't you even-! Oh no, OH NO! You're gonna wish you hadn't done that! Do it again! DO IT AGAIN, I DARE YOU! I'm gonna buck you so hard you'll be droppin' apples for weeks!"

Several of the guards had to pry themselves off the now quiet and still Rainbow Dash in order to tend to Applejack. The pegasus had realized she wasn't going to make any progress and had ceased struggling, saving her strength. She stared at Broken Oak harshly enough to burn a hole through him, but then she gave a worse look towards James. A bitter, nearly hateful glance. There he was: still standing next to Willow Wise, barely even watching what was going on, probably barely even caring, and doing absolutely nothing. What a wasted friendship.

Twilight came up again and gasped for breath as the water ran down her chin and soaked mane. Broken Oak continued with his verbal abuse, howling pointless questions that she had no intention of answering and blasting vile threats that would never move her. She tried to hold her eyes open, fighting against the remnant water that leaked into them and blurred her vision with a stinging sensation. Her clouded gaze crossed over her supportive friends who were locked helplessly in a sea of guards. She felt their agonized worry. Further back, her bleary vision focused on James standing besides Willow Wise. His shoulders were down, his head was low, his eyes were lost, and his body was shuddering and stiff all at once. He was at the end of his rope. He was powerless to act against Broken Oak and the crowd like they were now. Their fervor would keep them from being convinced; he'd compromise himself in a senseless sacrifice if he tried to get in the way. There was no more that he could do. Which meant...

"Who will be coming after you?!" Broken Oak shouted gruffly, pressing his hoof into her head and shaking her.

Twilight turned towards the stallion and he halted his interrogation in surprise, caught by how something had changed in her eyes. Some determined stoicism welled up in her and poured freely out of them. Unyielding, unbroken, and stronger than anything he could throw at her, there was in her a complete mastery of defiance and control that he could never touch. For once, she spoke to him. She was powerfully stern, fleetingly polite, and left no room for misinterpretation. She merely asked, direct and forward, "May I speak with Willow Wise, please?"

Broken Oak shook off his stunned expression quickly, refusing to believe that his great strength was less than that of some Sun-witch. "No!" he snarled as he threw her head into the water again. He pressed her in further and longer than any of his previous efforts.

But there were no surfacing bubbles of a desperately held breath slowly leaking air this time. No shaking struggle in her body. Just a still patience. When he finally pulled her up, she was gagging, coughing, and heaving the excess water from her lungs, but she still asked again, in exactly the same fashion as before, "May I speak with Willow Wise, please?"

"ANSWER MY QUESTIONS!" Once more, she was under the water. Deeper, longer.

And once more, no panic; no struggle. She came up soaked to the bone, mane in complete disarray, with labored breaths, but she asked again unfailingly, "May I speak with Willow Wise, please?"

Broken Oak pounded the earth, his fury sending a rippling wave across the lake. He threw his face right up against hers and spat at her, "You will do nothing but stay under that water until you choose to answer! And if not...," he squinted evilly and whispered, "... then I'll take one of your friends under next."

Twilight's eyes suddenly burst open despite the stinging wetness that stained them red, and she punctured him with her stare as she responded slowly, laced with an almost threatening undercurrent, "No you won't. You're only doing this to me because I'm letting you."

The ire exploded out of the already angry and frustrated stallion. "You think you can get free of me?!" he barked into her face.

"Would you like me to show you?" she questioned ominously.

His fiery snort blasted her soggy mane back. "I'd like to see you try!"

"Well, remember, YOU ASKED."

Broken Oak stood there smugly, chortling to himself as the gem of Twilight's horn-cap lit up brightly, her magic held back by its hungry power. The unicorn closed her eyes, groaned, and exerted herself. The sweat poured down her face and mingled with the fresh lake water. Slowly the stallion's cockiness slipped away as the gem grew brighter, and brighter, and brighter, until it was blindingly painful to look at; a green sun captured in a crystal.

Then, in a perfectly quiet moment, it suddenly shattered. The many falling and dancing shards rang like bells as an unbounded purple light blazed through the forest.

The metal spiral encasing her horn shredded down the center and blasted off into the air. Broken Oak pulled back aghast, wiping the crystal dust from his stupefied face, stunned like a bear who couldn't frighten a meek pegasus. Twilight rose up, standing tall on her hooves, weak from the intense magical effort, but free.

Suddenly coming to himself, the furious stallion tried to rush into her and tackle her to the ground, but Twilight froze him instantly. She picked him up, floated him out over the water, and then let him crash down into the lake with a crushing splash, like a calving glacier dropping a mountain of ice into the water.

Several ponies in the crowd gave terrified shouts, as if a caged monster chained up for a cheeky public display had just gotten loose. Frightened by the horrifying display of magic, some backed up in fear. Others even ran for it, ducking behind tree or bush.

A whole host of guards broke away from the other prisoners, intent on bringing the rampaging unicorn down. The Branch Dancers leapt up into the air and the rest rushed forwards, all trying to crash into her before she could devastate them with her sinister magic.

Gritting her teeth, Twilight pushed herself to her limit, straining against the magic-eating crystals of the forest. Her horn lit up and cast its light out like nets at the scrambling Drypony guards, seizing them one by one. It stopped the last airborne pony just as he was inches away from knocking the unicorn to the ground. Once she had a solid hold on them all, she flung them out over the water. They whirled and spun through the air before they plunged into the lake.

"Alright!" Rainbow Dash cheered. She shoved the lone guard who had stayed on watch over her down to the ground. The wild pegasus moved to knock a guard away from Applejack but, just as she got her bucking legs ready, she was encased in magic; locked down. "Hey! What gives?" she turned and shouted at Twilight.

The unicorn breathed heavily, her knees wobbled, and in an increasing unsteadiness she desperately begged her friend, "No! Stay right there! Please..."

Rainbow Dash groaned with unbelievably frustrated amazement. Even when she got what she wanted, she didn't get what she wanted! Though she was ignorant of Twilight's plan, she made sure her face clearly registered her disapproval of whatever it was. But as always, there was something about her intelligent friend... something that knew what was right, somehow. The pegasus stared dully for a moment, then nodded her frowning face in promise and submitted to loyal resignation.

Most of the last few guard decided that the witch was the bigger threat and abandoned the other prisoners, surging towards Twilight. A few more guards even appeared out of the branches, sailing out of the trees in an attempt to bring her down. With concentrated effort, the unicorn lit up her horn again and disappeared in a flash of light and smoke. The rushing guards all slammed into each other, leaving behind a pile of Dryponies on the forest floor.

Twilight reappeared in front of Willow Wise, giving the startled old mare quite a gasping fright. All of the purple pony's exhausting efforts were eating away at her though. By the way she held herself together, she almost seemed injured. She had a hard time standing up straight and every last corner of her body ached. Her mind pounded inside her skull and all of her senses were dimming as she struggled to even stay conscious.

But still, she managed to bow her head down slightly before Willow Wise, lake water sliding off her tangled mane, and she pleaded earnestly, "Lady Willow, if you would please just give me-"

A single Drypony guard came flying out of the trees, clasping a fresh horn-cap in her mouth.

With the last reserves of her energy, Twilight seized her assailant, pried the horn-cap loose, and flung the surprised Branch Dancer back into the trees.

The unicorn continued as if she hadn't been interrupted, "-just give me the chance to speak with you about all this, I would be glad to help clear up any confusion! We don't have to solve things this way, fighting against each other." She wobbled, slowly losing her balance and shaking her head as an exhausted delirium took hold of her. Picking her unfocused eyes up and trying to meet Willow Wise's eyes directly, she prayed, "I don't know everything that has lead to all this but I know that there are better solutions than us struggling with each other until somepony does something they regret!"

She tried to bring the horn-cap over to herself and it bounced chaotically through the air, barely under control. At last she managed to mostly line it up over her horn and she let it drop. It slid into place and the gem on the top faintly lit up with the now paltry amount of magic she was putting out. Reaching an unsteady hoof up, she flipped the lock on the cap into place, pinching herself.

"Please..." she weakly begged Willow Wise one last time before she tumbled over, collapsing onto her side.

Drypony guards were upon her instantly. They swarmed her, unnecessarily restraining her every limb and piling on top of her until they realized that she hardly qualified as conscious, let alone capable of fighting back. They picked her up but had to hold her standing themselves since she couldn't anymore.

A waterlogged Broken Oak came storming over, drops falling off him like rain as he shook himself furiously. "Filthy witch!" he muttered angrily as he stomped right up to a practically incoherent Twilight. His hoof raised up, blazing with rage.

"Broken Oak!" Willow Wise cried with renewed authority.

To the surprise of the old mare, and even the guards standing there, the stallion snapped back with equal and contentious authority, "Lady Willow-!"

"She's subdued, Broken Oak!"

"She can break free! We should-"

"Look at her!" the old mare directed, trying to maintain control. "She can't even stand on her own anymore. She's exhausted herself with her efforts. She won't be able to break free again for quite awhile, which gives us time to decide how to handle her."

The old mare looked upon her weakened enemy strangely. It rattled her inside. But not only that... at the same time she found herself suddenly unable to match eyes with her guard captain. She kept nervously repositioning her hooves under Broken Oak's extremely outraged stare. "It is clear now that your interrogation wasn't going to produce any answers," she tentatively insisted. "Just keep her under watch for the time being. I must... I must weigh these matters."

"Lady Willow-!" Broken Oak heaved in protest again. His eyes darted between his chief, the witch, and the Walking Desert, clearly suspecting a corruptive influence; the foul tricks of the wicked Sun at play.

Willow Wise tried to assert herself before him but how badly she had been shaken was becoming more evident to everypony. There was squeaking strain in her voice as she said, "Things are clearly more serious than we had previously guessed if she's able to exercise such power here, in the very heart of our forest. Just keep her under watch, captain!" The old mare tried to make her order sound like one that was faithfully given; full of expected trust and a belief that it would be met with the greatest devotion. However, the tone she injected made it come off sounding more like she had referred to him dismissively by rank instead of name. "There will be a time to act but until then we must continue to act cautiously. I... I need some time to think!" She immediately whirled about and stepped away, trying not to give the smoldering, contentious stallion a second look.

James stared at the fragile, drained Twilight as she hung between the guards like a crumpled, soggy rag left out to dry. He was shocked by how much she had given of herself, and only to ask Willow Wise for an audience! But he quickly realized that, like the Princess to the man, she very intentionally hadn't forced her way upon the old mare. Despite having had the power to press her will upon things, the magic might to dominate through force, she had instead left the free choice in the hooves of Willow Wise.

He turned and followed the old mare without a word, freshly determined to make use of the chance the unicorn had fought for.

Poppy picked up immediately after him. When he caught her following him, he thought for a moment and then stopped her. "Watch my friends, please?" he asked, as he eyed the brutish Broken Oak cautiously.

Catching the seriousness of his request, but also moved by his implicit faith, she nodded and turned back around.

Broken Oak slammed the ground with such anger that even the guards around him pulled back with fright, nearly dropping Twilight. "Take her to the others!" he ordered in disgust. "Gather them up to be imprisoned again!"

The old mare moved briskly, especially for her age. She zoomed across the concourse, went up the ramp, and passed into the palace hollow.

James followed at a distance behind her, moving at a slower pace. When he finally reached the top of the ramp and looked in through the archway, he saw her standing sullenly before one of the many shelves adorned with depictions of Prideheart, right next to the ringed gathering space. Carefully and quietly, he walked over and sat down on one of the floor seats near her. She was so sad and afraid in a way, he thought. He watched her as she looked up to the paintings and figurines of her hero, begging silently for them to give her an answer.

He let her have a few more quiet moments before he intruded softly, "Do you see now? Do you see where this could all lead if something doesn't change?"

She didn't respond at first. But looking sideways into her eyes he could see the fear reflected in them. He could see how thoroughly spooked she had been by what she had witnessed; the first time in her long, long life that she had ever seen such a display of magic.

And he could surprisingly sympathize. He had never seen Twilight unleash such force before either. Something was strange, though. He had, in fact, seen more spectacular magic. His books had talked of the sun and the moon being the magic of Princesses. But it was hard for him personally to separate fact from metaphor there. He had watched pegasi put together a storm which had rained down over a village for hours. But that had been so ordinarily handled and so by the numbers that it had been robbed of any sense of spectacle besides that which he had imbued in it himself. Here, Twilight hadn't done much more than blow her top and toss a few ponies into the water, but it had been a magic that was so much more visceral and gut-wrenching in it's violent force than anything he had yet seen.

Humans had built for themselves weapons that could destroy the world several times over. But after a few horrifying, regretful uses, people had rarely ever used them again. They hadn't wanted to because they had been at least somewhat capable of understanding the sheer, uncontainable destructive power of such weapons; power beyond the human capacity to properly and responsibly maintain. Maybe it wasn't so different here, in a way. Maybe that somehow contributed to the way Equestria was. That there was a bottle of magical terror that could be opened but no pony wanted to be the one to open it.

Willow Wise suddenly whispered in deep, agitated awe, "That power... the power of the curse... I had always known... from Prideheart's fall... but I... I never imagined it was so..." Her teeth chattered a little as she swallowed but didn't continue.

"Twilight doesn't want to act like that," James opined. "That's why she hadn't until now. She tried to talk with you before but you wouldn't hear it, so she had no choice. She had no other way to ask you for an audience."

The old mare gazed upon her figurines for a moment longer in nervous thought before her lips curled in a frown and she looked at the man. She mulled sourly, "So, even if all your claims are true, she is still here to bury us under her hoof with her magic. To force a submission from us to her ways."

"Lady Willow, no. She didn't force you to speak with her. She asked you to!" maintained James. "She definitely could've tried to force you but she pleaded with you to instead. She left you the choice."

To prove her point, Willow Wise dimly snorted, "And if I choose not to? She'd have 'no other way' but to 'ask' again, is that right?" She sighed and turned back to her figurines, reaching a hoof up to one of them and nudging it in place slightly. With dismal hopelessness, she moaned, "... To wield her magic against us again and again until we surrender to her desires."

"No...," James tried to resist her foreboding prediction. But she may have been right. What would Twilight do if the Dryponies continued to be obstinate against peace? He attempted to rationalize, "She wants you to choose to speak with her because... because... what would be the point of forcing you to? What would it mean if you didn't choose it for yourself? She wants there to be a real dialogue for peace and if you don't feel that for yourself it's not going to have any meaning." His words were like an echo; a reminder of something the Princess had told him. He reiterated, "Even if she has the power to force you to act a certain way, she can't make you feel a certain way. So it's important that you choose it for yourself."

Willow Wise studied the whittled figurine in her hoof. Prideheart, majestic and strong in wooden form, noble and independent even as a statue, great and heroic as every story that they had ever recited about him. Her eyes sparkled with dreams. "Choose our own path...," she mumbled.

"That's what I'm saying, yeah. You have to choose for yourself," the man endorsed, "just... don't make it this isolated one you've been walking all this time. Make a new path. One that includes the world, instead of shutting it out." He shook his head and pleaded, "Please, you have to see that this old path, no matter how 'Prideheart strong' you are, will inevitably only unleash more of what you just saw."

Grappling with everything being said, the old mare resistantly and vainly hoped, "It takes... great power to overcome the crystals so spectacularly. There are- there are only a few... enemies who could do it... so, maybe... we can still-"

James stood up, exasperated, and he moaned loudly, "Lady Willow, that's not the point! It doesn't matter how many or how few! The point is that there are some who could regardless! The point is... the point is: why? WHY?" He had to rub his face and catch his breath. Closing his eyes and pinching his nose, he tried to explain, "Why, if all your paranoia of Princess Celestia were true, would she wait this long? Now you've seen that she could have and would have moved on you centuries ago. Why now? Why with this oddball group of ponies who are clearly the WORST possible choice for a search and destroy mission?"

He sat back down and shook his head again. "There are no ponies out there who WANT to use magic like that against you."

"But they will if they have to...?" Willow Wise coolly stated. "... And we have to defend ourselves..."

"Oh, defend. Defend!" James quipped with small, bitter sarcasm. "Did you see what Broken Oak was doing to Twilight out there? She just defended herself. And you'll just defend yourselves from her, and Princess Celestia, and-" He groaned. "I'm all for defending yourselves when you actually have to, but the two sides of this conflict will just keep 'defending themselves' against each other into oblivion. THAT'S why this is a battle that shouldn't take place. That's why it doesn't need to."

"But we don't truly want to fight; we only will if we have to," Willow Wise asserted quietly. "The only thing we truly want is to escape. To be free of the curse of magic, and of the wicked Sun forever."

"Equestria is a magical world, Lady Willow. That's not in the cards," the man expressed sadly.

She suddenly turned and pointed at him. "No, it must be real," she insisted. "Your special gift... Your freedom from the curse..."

"Special? No, I'm not special," he contended. "Everybody is like that where I'm from. There's no magic at all."

The old mare's face lit up with an open, wishing smile, and her eyes gave off a happy, eager glow, like a young foal's. James immediately realized he had said something he shouldn't have.

"N-now wait just a minute!" he tried to protest.

"Despite all your objections, you are the one!" There was a resurgence of her latent dreams; a resurrection of her single-minded attachment to the old stories. It was like all her recent thoughts and progress had been flushed away at the single chance to bring that fantasy to life again. "Somewhere, there is a paradise for-"

"No! Listen to me! My home is not what you think it is!" He was frantic, and even hurt. The words bled out of him. "I think it's a great place, despite everything, but it's not a paradise. It's not some mystical land of no magic, and it's not a place for you... no more than Equestria has been a place for me..." His own strength quickly started waning as he thought about it. He didn't want to go into this here... not now... please...

Still, the old mare tried to carry on, claiming, "There may be challenges for us there, yes, but our destiny is to be challenged! That fight is preferable still to one against the wicked Sun! If we could just-"

His voice was weak and shaky. "Lady Willow, it doesn't matter. I couldn't lead you there anyway; there's no way back. I wish there was! I'd go back in a heartbeat!" He had to pull back for a second and rub his eyes vigorously. He was somber and wistful, then furious with himself for feeling sad and it only forced his fingers against his eyes harder. "I don't want to be here," he admitted quietly. There was a sudden flash in his mind of colored smiles. A distant calling of bright voices, echoing with warmth. He abruptly repeated himself with a slight addendum, "I don't want to be here, against my will."

As if his own glum outlook could somehow infect her, the old mare tried to encourage him, "Don't abandon your destiny!"

"Oh, destiny abandoned me," he griped in response before he waved his hand to wipe away his ridiculous feelings and senseless rambling. Taking a deep breath to clear himself, he locked eyes with Willow Wise and told her seriously, "There's no way back and I wouldn't lead you there if there was."

The wishful joy slowly seeped from the old mare's face, replaced piece by piece with a grim, upset resentment. But as she stared at James, as his feelings transmitted through the air to her, an honest belief started to appear in her too. Suddenly, the ongoing excuse factory shut down and she just... accepted.

Steadily she turned away from the man, her attention drifting back towards the many different Pridehearts. James sat up straight and tried to recollect himself. Together, they indulged in the brief silence.

"If true escape from the wicked Sun is not possible," Willow Wise at last spoke up, her tone dreary, "then being left in peace here in Heartwood is all we have in order to be free of her and the curse of magic."

"It only lasted for a time," he reminded her. "It's not sustainable anymore. You can't choose that."

"Fighting for that is better than falling under the yolk of the Sun again," she said.

"That's not-!" James snapped before securing himself. She was still partially caught up in the same bad story. He restarted more plainly, "She doesn't want to make servants out of you."

Willow Wise grumbled, halfway accepting of the man's position, but she still complained, "Again even if your claims are true, she failed Prideheart! His suffering was her responsibility! We cannot-! How could we abide such an evil? How could we live alongside that, letting it pass?"

Her blocking started to draw out his anger. Not because it was wearing on his patience. He had seen enough now to understand that the Dryponies weren't innocent victims anymore; they weren't blame free. She was apparently lacking a mirror. "Then seek an explanation and an apology from her!" he harshly begged. "She made a mistake! You have too! Are you really any different from her?"

The old mare reeled back with insult. "Yes!" she strenuously professed.

She was quite taken aback when he instantly and gravely replied, "No! No you aren't!" He flung his hand out here and there, gesturing at invisible offenses, and enumerated, "Stealing food from Hamestown; keeping food from the animals; ambushing travelers and throwing them into prison on unfounded, unchecked suspicion alone... Broken Oak was TORTURING Twilight!" He spat a hot breath.

Then there was a sudden chill about him and he froze up. Something dark and cold came back to him. "The legend of Unicorn Spring Forest," he whispered. "There's no unicorns here... but Prideheart was one. No unicorns... ANYMORE. They say- they say that unicorn foals were found abandoned at the edge of the forest." He looked up at Willow Wise, nearly terrified, and asked in a tone half for confirmation and half for accusation, "You... abandoned babies to the wild?"

The same coldness in him spread to her. She didn't have any words. But her face immediately recognized what he was talking about.

"Oh my God, you did!" he gasped lowly. He choked up. The beginning trickles of tears pushed their way into the corners of his eyes. The horror of it was just too unbelievable for here. For Equestria.

"You hated magic so much that you left innocent unicorn foals to DIE," he blankly stated, as if speaking the words might help him come to terms with the abominable abhorrence of what had happened. Something painful and foul tugged at him. It wasn't hate. It was tragedy. Soreness from the deep cuts of Prideheart's tragedy, compounding and compounding and compounding. He sadly asked of Willow Wise, "How can you accuse the Princess' mistake of evil when you've made just as evil of a mistake?"

The old mare stared at him for a moment before she stepped forward, walking right past him. She stopped before the large pot of crystals that sat in the wall like a hearth and she then sat down quietly in slumbering thought. The crystals' soft, glimmering light washed over her like the glow of a warm fire, her eyes burying themselves deep into the shimmering gems.

James stood himself up and rushed over to the palace entrance, desperate for fresh air to push down the vomiting feeling that was boiling in his stomach. He rubbed his sleeve across his eyes and steadied his breathing as he leaned against the archway. But as he cleaned the last dabs of wetness out of his eyes, something out in the concourse caught his attention.

Far down by the lake, his friends were gathered again. Twilight was sitting on the ground resting, with her legs folded under herself. She was clearly still weary; her head bobbed and dangled as she kept nearly nodding off. Applejack sat right next to her, holding her close and tending to her with motherly concern. The others (save Spike, still unfortunately incapacitated by vines) formed a small perimeter about them, mostly lead by a stalwart Rainbow Dash.

Despite the standoff-ish appearance of the group, it wasn't as bad as it looked. They were just keeping a watch. Most of the Drypony guards who were there formed a broad half-circle around them and didn't close in, seemingly content that the problem was 'contained.' Or more realistically, the Dryponies were too frightened by Twilight's recent magical display to dare to get any closer than they were.

The only two guards who got any nearer were the jail guards. They appeared utterly comfortably being virtually right next to the watchful Rainbow Dash, who tolerated them agreeably in return.

Broken Oak was engaged in some kind of nasty disagreement with the two jail guards. Even as far as the opposite side of the concourse, the hoarse rhythm of his shouting was cleanly distinguishable. He was flailing his hoof up towards the trees and angrily insisting that the prisoners be brought back to their cell.

However, with proper deferring respect, and maybe a little embarrassment, the jail guards seemed to disagree. They apparently wanted to let Twilight rest quietly for a time. What they were arguing specifically couldn't be made out; they weren't anywhere close to being a rage-filled shouter like Broken Oak was. It was doubtful that they were appealing to the surly stallion's underdeveloped sense of mercy. Maybe they made an argument of theoretical security; that they'd have to carry the diminished Twilight up to the cell, which presented a risky chance for her friends to pull something nefarious. Whatever points they were making, their ultimate goal was clear: let the unicorn rest.

It didn't sit well with the stallion's explosive temper. He might have gone overboard if it wasn't for Poppy. The little filly suddenly approached him and spoke to him soothingly. Whatever she had said to him apparently limited his fury enough to get him to reluctantly agree to allow Twilight a few minutes of rest. He barked a few more stern orders and even gave some more through quaking stamps and ear-piercing whistles, and then he stomped off madly into the forest.

After he went, Poppy raced off somewhere only to shortly return with a pail. She quickly went to the lakeside and swished her bucket through the water, catching a heavy gallon or two. She carried the refreshing payload as close to Twilight as she dared, leaving it on the ground and nudging it just a bit further with her nose before she turned around and bolted off to a safe distance.

Rainbow Dash gave the little squirt an odd look but then shrugged. She retrieved the pail and set it down before Twilight, and Applejack immediately helped the tired unicorn sate her thirst, guiding her with encouraging whispers. The friendly Drypony guards looked about at the rest of their further out compatriots, making sure none of them had a mind to interfere.

It was an amazing sight. These Drypony strangers defended and cared for their supposed enemies...

Behind James, Willow Wise suddenly spoke up. Her voice felt faint and distant, like she was speaking across the annals of time. "The purging of the cursed ones- of... of the unicorns..." Her voice drifted in and out almost at random. "The history is recorded in song to keep the memory, like all our history... but we don't sing it often. Prideheart's battle... his struggle... is full of glory; a grand memory worth celebrating. But the purge... the separation of the infants... the wailings of mothers... the lamentations of fathers... that is not glory. It is not a proud memory.

"But... but... the foals WERE cared for," she stated truly. As grim as she was on the topic, there were no shades of doubt to her assertion. "We cared for them until scouts could find passing travelers and we made sure the foals were picked up."

James' eyes opened wide. He looked back and forth several times between the old mare and the guards surrounding his friends.

Ponies.

Ready-to-fight, magic-abhorring, prisoner-taking, food-stealing, fanatically anti-Princess ponies. But STILL PONIES.

A Princess with the will to lead by compassionate example, even at risk. A student who labored to be a helpful friend to a stranger despite the sometimes dramatic differences and the uphill struggle it often was. A frightened tailor who gave, and gave, and gave again. A leery and suspicious flyer whose loyalty and trust, even when steeped in doubt, was enough to carry her through. A kind, compassionate, and courageous caretaker who stood against anything, no matter how perilous, for the sake of even the littlest (or most ferocious) creature. A passionate farmer who had an honest business dispute with an admittedly grouchy tinkerer but who still wanted to part at the end of the day as friends. A... completely crazy... stupendously eccentric... pink... well, she was always friendly irregardless and that was what was important.

And now, an elderly mare who was so deeply bothered by an old story because it reminded her of the greatest tragedy of her kind. He had accused the Dryponies of nothing short of murdering the most defenseless of all. But they hadn't. And even though they hadn't, what they HAD DONE still bothered this old mare just as much. Devastated, heartbroken parents who had felt culturally compelled to reluctantly entrust their children to strangers. Children that they then must have loved truly despite having been conduits of the very thing that they had professed to hate.

Love stronger than hate.

Harmony.

It was all hitting the man so fast. He stood stunned for a moment before he suddenly rushed to Willow Wise's side and knelt down.

"Lady Willow," he gasped, almost out of breath, the sheer exhilaration practically consuming him. "Listen, Prideheart does have a great legacy. He fought a freaking dragon to save Equestria because Princess Celestia either wouldn't or couldn't. He's a hero! But then he made a mistake. He RAN AWAY. That's the part of his legacy that you celebrate the most! His fear! The great Drypony destiny that you believe in is to emulate that; to run away like he did."

The old mare didn't understand was he was getting it. She was also partially offended by how he was going about it. "He had to escape the Sun," she said.

"No, listen, let me finish," James continued, still nearly choking on his own breaths. The words just poured out of him like a waterfall. "He stood up against the dragon, and he could have stood up against the Princess too if the fight for it was in him. But the fight wasn't in him. He ran because he wasn't trying to escape her. He was trying to escape HIS PAIN. That battle against the dragon cost him; it wounded him; body, mind, soul. And he ran from his pain. That's what you're celebrating the most! Not his great heroism! That he ran away only to die unceremoniously in the forest!"

Willow Wise was silent for a moment before she turned her still eyes back upon the glittering crystals. "... He didn't die here," she revealed in a barely audible wisp of a voice.

"What?"

"One day... one day, in his later years, he got up and left. He didn't discuss it with any of the other elders. He made no mention of anything to anypony. He just... walked out of Heartwood one day, never to return. We..." She halted her tale for a moment to deliberately choose a word. "... believe... that he had finished preparing us for our Drypony destiny and was leaving us to it."

James took his own look into the crystals. Whether there was something magical or insightful about their soft rainbow light or not, he came to a quick realization. "Christ... Lady Willow... he ran away AGAIN."

She looked up at him. Not with belief. Not with doubt. Not with offense. Only with an unfeeling pain.

"Listen," the man elaborated, "he was a hero. I really mean that. He deserves every last bit of honor that gets sent his way and then some, for holding off that dragon. But with the pain he took in that fight, with those scars still fresh, he made a stupid choice. He made a stupid, rash, sudden choice. He shut out the world and ran off to let it fade away. To let HIMSELF fade away, instead of finding the healing he needed.

"I think... I think that after he was here in Heartwood for a time... after he had the time to really process everything... he came to REGRET his decision. He regretted leaving. But he never found healing so he couldn't go back. And then... then he saw what was going on here. The culture that was building up around him, the destiny and the dream you were all preparing and making bigger and grander, all of it growing beyond his ability to control. He saw all that... and I think he was ashamed. He ran away again, in shame."

James held his head low. Again, he felt like crying. "I think he deserved better than that. I wish he had found healing." He weakly begged the Drypony chief, "Don't celebrate his pain."

It was a long minute, ticking away eternally, that they were both there, staring into the crystal light in silence.

"... It's hard...," Willow Wise suddenly spoke.

James looked up at her.

"... It's hard... holding on to a passionate conviction all your life. Carrying it intensely, always... like a heavy weight... that you never set down. It IS a weight. I'm so old... and so tired... Broken Oak, he... he's young and in the greatest throes of that passion. Carrying the weight gives him strength. It builds him up. It gives him the traction; the push back that he needs to test himself against the world. But in time... it will sap even his great strength too. I... no more for me... I am so old... so tired... so ready for rest..."

Tears started forming in her eyes, and the radiant light of the crystals colored them like rainbows. "... I just want my little Dryponies to be safe..."

Immediately James picked up one of her hooves and held in gently in his hand, patting his other on top. "I want that too," he said to her, "and I am telling you, I HONESTLY BELIEVE that the best chance for that is through reconciliation, not struggle. I'm not asking you to throw away who you are. Or to destroy all of this Drypony identity that you've built for yourselves. Or to reject Prideheart and his heroism. You don't have to come out of this forest groveling before the Princess. Just, as a start, open your eyes and look at other possibilities seriously."

Thinking of his pony friends, he tenderly suggested, "Maybe, as a simple beginning, take up Twilight's offer and speak openly with her, or start an honest dialogue with the frontiersponies about solving your animal problem."

However, the old mare was distraught and she wept, "But... Prideheart's legacy... all these centuries... what has it all been for?"

"Don't fall into that trap," James encouraged her. "That trap of too much already been sacrificed. No. It's not too late. It's only too late if you give up." He set down her hoof and looked at her directly. "If you can find peace for the Dryponies, then Prideheart's legacy will STILL be a great legacy. If you can find safety for them, even in friendship and forgiveness with Princess Celestia, then your Drypony destiny will STILL be complete."

Willow Wise gazed into the crystal light once more, letting it dance across her face for several silent moments. Steadily, her chin dipped and her head slunk down.

"... It IS too late..."

Chapter 19: Body

"What? It's not too late! Don't say that!" James protested, almost incensed.

"But it is!" Willow Wise insisted in despair. "Broken Oak... he will never accept-"

"So?" the man interrupted. Again, that stubborn stallion! "He's just going to have to deal with it."

"No," the old mare moaned. Paralyzed with heavy gravity, a hopeless darkness oozed out of her. "If I attempt to change the course of the Dryponies, he will challenge me, without a doubt."

"But... you lead the Dryponies, don't you?" A rising sense of dread took hold inside James.

Willow Wise dropped her eyes to the floor and she quietly explained, "Strength is a virtue; the most respected of all of Prideheart's virtues. Strength is the mark of a leader. Strength of mind..." She pointed at herself, but then she pointed off towards the forest; off towards wherever Broken Oak was. "... But also strength of body. The Dryponies follow out of respect. My wisdom is respected, but so is his might. If I turn away from the Drypony dream, so devoutly believed, then he will exercise his right to challenge his strength against mine... and I cannot stand against him there..."

James was nearly incredulous. Willow Wise had finally become aware enough to recognize that there might be a better way out of this disaster but her change of heart had been ultimately meaningless because of that one reckless pony.

"What? So that's it? Because he's the biggest pony he gets to have his way?" the man complained. As obstinate and unwavering as Willow Wise had been, Broken Oak was something else entirely. He wasn't just inflexible; he was unrelentingly charging headlong into that demented destiny, oblivious to the dangers, intent on taking everypony with him. The man frantically hoped, "Won't some of the other Dryponies respect you more than him? Won't some of them listen?"

"If Broken Oak challenges me," she whispered in a forsaken tone, "he will prove his authority and that is what they will respect."

"They'll fear him is what you mean," the man contended, angry. "Fear is a very different thing from respect."

But she only shook her head. "It doesn't matter... there is nothing that can be done anymore."

With nothing immediately around him to direct his ire towards, James squeezed his own knuckles until his fingers popped. With bitter and harsh whispers he tried to think of something, anything, that could help. By sheer chance his memory stumbled upon recent words; some simple wisdom, given to him only thirty minutes ago from an unexpected source. "We have to at least TRY," the man demanded.

"But what good would it do?" the old mare asked, pleading for a way out.

"What good would it be to do nothing?" he asked her back. With a burning sigh, he went on, "We know pretty clearly now where things are going to go if we do nothing, or if we just let Broken Oak take over and handle things his way. We have to at least try to do something."

Willow Wise stayed silent. She sat and shivered through an uncomfortable coldness that permeated her, and she eased through deep, tired breaths as her eyes still battled a forlorn moisture.

"I'll stand with you," James promised.

Silence. Silence in the radiant crystal light.

The man tried again, begging, "Don't be the wounded Prideheart, who kept running away. Be Prideheart the hero, who threw himself against a dragon, regardless of the consequences to himself, because he had something to protect."

"... Please, give me a few minutes," Willow Wise requested in a dreary whisper.

He nodded, got up, and stepped away from her. Waiting in the archway, he looked out at the concourse again. The others still sat under the wary watch of the gang of Drypony guards, with the only friendly faces being their two sympathizers and Poppy. A healthy portion of the crowd remained at a much greater distance, eying the whole group with their leery curiosity. There were likely a good chunk more Dryponies peeking from the heights and depths of the trees as well.

At last he heard the slow, reluctant clops of Willow Wise approaching. She was painfully nervous, nearly holding her breath the whole way. "I will... try to take the matter up with my Dryponies," she said in an ailing voice. Perhaps a thousand times in her long life she had addressed her congregation and it had always been with shining pride and an unfaltering confidence. This would be the first time ever she would actually need her all of her willpower in order to speak to them. The first time that appearing before her Dryponies would be a challenging task.

James tried to make himself as supportive a presence as possible, giving her a closed smile and an assertive nod. She acknowledged weakly, but something about her still wasn't fully committed to the task; there was only a weak willingness to give it a try. He stepped out of the hollow before her, matched her pace, and together they steadily walked down the ramp.

A single Drypony from the remains of the crowd spotted them coming and spread the word to her neighbors, who spread it to theirs, and so on. In a hot minute there was a hidden electricity whipping through the crowd, wondering and ready.

It caught the attention of Twilight and her friends too. Rainbow Dash was none too pleased to see James accompanying Willow Wise again, turning an ever distrustful eye at him. The others looked up with hope though, praying that their unicorn friend's short breakout earlier had made some sort of difference.

Twilight noted the change in James: from lost and uncertain to focused and centered. She knew instantly: this was it. She started to stand up but stumbled under her own weight, still weak. Applejack quickly got to her hooves and helped her frail friend up, keeping the unicorn steady.

Poppy raced over to Willow Wise, sensing the change in the air. The old mare restlessly asked the little filly to gather the Dryponies for a village meeting. Obediently she did, first recruiting a few of the excess Branch Dancer guards to help spread the message. They bounced into the trees, calling for everypony, shouting at the peaks of their voices. Those Dryponies who had fled to the trees at the sight of Twilight's unleashed magic swiftly began crawling out of the cracks in the forests. With most of the crowd still gathered from the earlier spectacle, it didn't take long for the rest of Heartwood to assemble.

Quickly they filtered in, a great crowd of Dryponies, growing in size. They moved in closer to their chief but made sure to stand on the side of the concourse that was well and away clear of the guards and their prisoners. The rumorous whispers slowly but surely died down as the expectation of some dramatic outpouring by their great chief built up.

"Now or never," James murmured to Willow Wise.

The old mare stood idly, staring into the eyes of all her Dryponies, too fearful to speak at first. Each one of them looked back with their unequal eyes; a sea of paired gazes; clear eye and Prideheart marked eye, together staring back at her. They were curious, proud, daring, and faithful. They were eager, scared, attentive, and rueful. They were her foals, all. They all loyally bore that symbol of Prideheart's suffering. Never, NEVER, should they have to bear a mark of their own.

In a dry voice, she called out as strongly as her will could, "Dryponies! Prideheart's faithful! Today... today, of all days, may be the day most influential over our destiny! Today... we met for the first time those that we've called our enemies! And..." She choked up for a moment, either forgetful or unsure of her next words. The odd glares of the Dryponies only pounded their way further into her. She breathed in deeply, redoubled her efforts, and continued, "And now... we are tasked to call judgment! But not upon them! Upon ourselves! To see if the long-told stories that we have always shared of them match what we can witness with our own eyes!

"We can choose to face down our enemy blindly, but," she pointed towards Twilight, "we have already seen the weakness invited by such selective ignorance! It it a time now not to stay hidden away in our forest but to seek out those we oppose. Seek them out... not to fight them but to learn of them! To discover them better! To understand that... that... there may be other paths to our own peace than just escaping away from the Sun or eclipsing her light!"

At the short pause in her words, there were rising questions from the crowd. The words bounced between the many debating ponies. Whispers flooded the forest, asking what this could all mean. Low sounds spoken in fear and panic, rage and worry, interest and hope.

Willow Wise raised her voice to overcome them, "There may be a path through reconciliation! A peace to be found... through peace!"

A tremendous crack of thunder, like the earth breaking open, like a tree crushing brush when it falls, like the latent crash of a firework, shattered the noise of the crowd and brought everything to a standstill. The center of the sea of ponies split, parting to either side and revealing Broken Oak, his hoof practically buried in the ground from the force of his stomp.

His eyes boiled and furious air blasted out of his nostrils. He twisted the old mare's words and accused, "THROUGH SURRENDER!"

Willow Wise began shaking in agitation. Her voice diminished as she tried to contend, "No, Broken Oak... we are not-"

The stormy stallion marched forward out of the crowd, smashing craters in the earth as he came. His screaming voice surged out with fire and fury, "Long has our strength held together, here in Heartwood! And now, at the cresting of the wave, you want to turn away in fear?! The time of our destiny is come and your strength fails?!"

The old mare's body shrunk as the unrestrained wrath of the frenzied stallion came pouring out. Still, she tried to press back, lifting her voice enough to be heard better, and pleaded, "No, Broken Oak... you must understand... our destiny... there is no escape from the Sun! The night may be long but the day will always come! We've seen now that this encounter was inevitable, no matter how deeply we hid ourselves. But a true escape will never be ours. We cannot match their magic." She turned towards James solemnly. "And not even the Walking Desert can guide us away from it."

Broken Oak turned to look at the man too. There was nothing friendly, hospitable, or even remotely respectful about his stare. Something deep and destructive was in the stallion's eyes. Some dark reflection of the man, contorted and virulent. This was all his fault. This was all that THING'S fault!

"Perhaps he isn't the one! Or maybe he's still too twisted by the wicked Sun to yet be of use!" Broken Oak shouted. A shadow suddenly fell over him as he looked back at Willow Wise. Biting and harsh, he said to her, "But it is obvious now that he's been a poison to your thoughts; softening your will and weakening your resolve..." He immediately turned and appealed loudly to the crowd, "Just as the wicked Sun intended!"

The crowd exploded into gasps and shouts. Some spoke contrary to the assertions; others not. But in moments it became clear that enough of them were on one side of the argument to shift the tide. Swiftly the crowd's emotions stirred and aligned towards Broken Oak.

Willow Wise's face fell and she slowly withdrew, offering no counter this time.

But like before, James was a mirror to Broken Oak's anger. He couldn't hold himself back against the stallion's hostility and insane vehemence. Especially now that the old mare had seemingly surrendered. He stepped forward and, with perhaps too little caution, he yelled at the stallion, "Hey! You need to shut up!"

Broken Oak faced the man again, all his furious hate intact and visible on the surface. However, one side of him also delighted in the possibility of finally standing openly against this insect; a side of him that indulged in the chance to crush this worm again; justice for all the trouble the man had caused.

"I don't think you really believe in your great destiny!" James accused the defiant pony. "I think you're just looking for a battle to fight! Something on which to spend your immeasurable strength! Something to validate everything you've built yourself up for! Have you even stopped once to consider the consequences of what you're doing?!"

"You may waste your wretched words all you like, Sun-slave!" Broken Oak snapped right back. "I won't be shaken! I am Prideheart strong! I will never back down, not even from the wicked Sun herself!"

"Oh, wake up!" the man exclaimed, tired and wild all at once. He lifted his voice to try and include the crowd, though he found it hard not to angrily spit everything at Broken Oak, "Prideheart won a great battle but then he lost the war! He beat the dragon and his victory destroyed him in the end! It wasn't the Sun! He had the strength to fight a dragon but he didn't have the strength to fight the wounds he took in his heart!" He again leveled his words solely and unapologetically at the brutish stallion, claiming, "You'll be no different if you don't change course!"

"Broken Oak... please...," Willow Wise suddenly stepped forward and pleaded. She was still embroiled in fear, but it wasn't OF the manic stallion. It was FOR him. "There is no escape through retreat and there is no victory to win through conflict. But there is a chance... there may be more than defeat left for us! They have not come here to destroy us; they already would have if that was their aim. We can try-"

"ENOUGH!" the stallion screamed and let loose another earthquake with his hoof. He once again turned around and took his argument directly to the Dryponies, pronouncing, "Our great leader's strength has waned! I will not accept conceding to the wicked Sun, whatever her vile intentions are! I will not let Prideheart's long struggle end without meaning!"

He stormed over to Willow Wise and throw a denouncing hoof in front of her face. "Willow Wise! I now challenge your strength!"

The crowd fell into shock.

In the dead silence, the old mare stared at the powerful hoof in front of her. Slowly, her eyes retreated and fell, followed by her head, and then her rump slid down on to the ground. She hung herself in accepted defeat.

Again, the crowd came alive at this turn of events. Broken Oak turned away from the fallen chief and began to pace in front of them, proclaiming his newly earned leadership.

James leaned down to the conquered Drypony, herself despairing and so devoid of hope, and he implored her, "No... please..."

But her head stayed down. She closed her eyes and, weeping, she said, "I'm sorry... I cannot..."

Marching back and forth in front of the crowd, filled with authority and command, Broken Oak blasted his voice to them, over them, and through all the forest. He decreed, "We will stand idle no longer! No more waiting for the ponies of the settlement to move on us! No more waiting for corruption to undo us from the inside! No more waiting for the Sun to complete the erasure of Prideheart from history!" He stopped his imperious parading to deliver a deadly stare at the collected prisoners. Destroying them with his eyes, he cast new orders out with his booming voice, "We will deal with the evil already in our midst... and then we will march on the enemy settlement and drive the intruders away from our forest once and for all! Curses upon the wicked Sun!"

His energy spilled into the crowd and they reacted only with enthusiasm, cheering him on and shouting their own vulgar phrases and epithets.

The infectious zeal also spread quickly into the guards that surrounded Twilight and the others. They suddenly grew bolder and, seeking to execute Broken Oak's instructions, began to slowly move in on the prisoners, projecting malice with every step.

The two sympathetic jail guards didn't turn on the prisoners. Seemingly the only guards unaffected by the rampaging fervor, they fell into a sorrowful panic and tried to entreat their fellows to not do anything too hasty. Their words fell upon deaf ears and were answered only with hostile stares. But instead of giving up and joining their comrades, the two slowly backed away from their own kind, right up into the captives, as they continued to plead.

The threatened prisoners defensively pulled themselves into a tight ball with their most vulnerable at the center. Applejack and Fluttershy blocked Twilight with their bodies. Rarity pulled the still incapacitated Spike in and guarded him closely. Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie stood like shields against the encroaching Dryponies. The rainbow pegasus was poised and ready, daring their captors to make the first move. The pink pony bent low, furled her lips in a growl, and then yapped like a small puppy would at a mailpony.

James was still trying to convince Willow Wise to take action. He didn't have much faith in salvaging the situation but there simply wasn't anything he could do on his own. No matter what kind of Walking Desert the Dryponies thought he was, they weren't going to choose him over Broken Oak. He needed Willow Wise to act. He begged the old mare, "I know you can't fight him but there must be SOMETHING you can do!"

"Only successfully standing against his challenge will have any meaning..." the old mare heaved between her slow tears.

Whistles and stamps interrupted them, and James stood up when he saw several Drypony guards start to surround him. Their intention of capture was obvious. Broken Oak marched forward to join them. He came right up to the man and stood before him without a hint of mercy or a whiff of sympathy. This wasn't surprising: now that this aggressive stallion was in charge, the jig was up.

But Broken Oak suddenly held up a hoof, signaling his guards to back off. Mischievously, the stallion gave James the most knowing and deliberate look. Something clever and intentional twinkled in his eye. In an excessively loud voice, more than necessary to drive his purposes, he hinted to the man, "You know, I have challenged Willow Wise... but one may stand in her stead and prove strength on her behalf." He had a wicked, desirous smile.

It didn't strike James at first just why the domineering stallion would have even suggested such a thing; why this pony would have so willingly granted the man a chance to fight back. He returned a confused grimace at the stallion's offer... until the hidden truth of the matter quickly hit him like a sucker punch: Broken Oak was looking for the chance to break him before the crowd. By publicly crushing him in a challenge of strength, he would have the opportunity to dispel whatever myths they had built up of the Walking Desert in their own minds.

James delayed, swallowing his spit. On the one hand, like before, he felt so spiteful towards Broken Oak's hostility that he didn't want to even give the stallion the pleasure. Not to mention the fact that if he failed (which was probable given the outcome of their last fight,) he'd be playing right into the stallion's hooves and completely lose the Dryponies' respect, which was the only real currency he had with them. But on the other hand, if Willow Wise was right, if besting Broken Oak in a formal challenge was the only hope of restraining the mad stallion's forced authority, then it was the only chance he had to set things right.

"I ACCEPT!"

There were great, stunned gasps from everypony there. Even James had to stop for a second, riddled with confusion. He... hadn't said anything, had he? That hadn't been his voice...

From deep in the circle of enclosing Drypony guards, with bold, glowing eyes and a defiant stance, Rainbow Dash repeated, "I accept! I'll stand for Willow Wise!"

Broken Oak had a boggled appearance, halfway between disbelief and unfiltered anger. This unanticipated turn of events wasn't what he was after at all. But his fury swiftly morphed into delight as he freshly recalled his animosity for the boisterous pegasus. Nothing wrong with a little practice, then!

"Fine. Come forward!" he called before he whistled more instructions to his guards. He shot a final, grisly, departing look at James, a sort of 'just wait until later,' as he moved back towards the crowd.

Bowing to their captain's commands, the chain of guards around both James and the others loosened and then broke away. Most moved over towards the crowd and subsequently stood at attention, but a few leapt off into one of the trees and shortly returned with some heavy hammers, a great length of vine-rope, and some thick wooden stakes. They set to work on something, blocking out a space.

Now surprisingly free of any sort of watch, Rainbow Dash took a few trepidatious steps forward, her eyebrow cocked. It wasn't clear to her yet what she had just gotten herself into. When nopony seemingly objected to her little movements, she picked up to a full trot and quickly bounded over to Willow Wise's side.

Equally perplexed, and not to mention more than worried, the rest of the pegasus' friends followed up behind her. Even the two Drypony sympathizers came along with them, after a short delay of rationalizing to themselves that, "Somepony should keep a close watch on them." Twilight had to take it gingerly as she was still weak. Fortunately, she was assisted every step of the way by a supportive Applejack.

They all stood together and watched as the equipped guards drove the stakes into the earth at several key points, hammering them in securely; six stakes in all. The Drypony with the rope began to lay the line from stake to stake, measuring the perimeter of a shape he was creating. When the appropriate length of rope was cut, they tied it tightly around each stake, one by one, leaving it taut and raised a scant few inches off the ground. What they left behind was a hexagon of vine-rope, but only by the number of sides. It still strongly resembled a square by how shallowly two of the stakes pushed out. A chubby square with two mildly bulged sides, about twenty-five feet across.

"So... uh... what's going to happen here?" Rainbow Dash asked the old mare without diverting her gaze from the working Dryponies.

Willow Wise's eyes hadn't shifted away from the pegasus since the latter's unexpected outburst. Something had marveled her and she just couldn't believe it. Again and again, it was just like James had said. Fluttershy had peacefully driven off the bears, Twilight had exercised reserved magical muscles to only ask for parley and then re-restrained herself, and now Rainbow Dash had stepped up to fight on her behalf. Enemies, doing all this? Enemies...?

When an answer never came, Rainbow Dash at last pulled her head away from the activity going on before her and gave the old mare a puzzled glance. It shook Willow Wise out of her vexed preoccupation and she mumbled while coming back into herself, "You'll have to test your strength against Broken Oak's in a match."

Applejack, studying the Dryponies' tangle of rope and stakes, suddenly realized aloud, "It's a ring! Like for a competition of sorts."

"The victor is the one who knocks their opponent out of the ring...," Willow Wise elaborated, but then more grimly added, "... or knocks them out altogether." She gave a dismayed sigh and then, with alarmed eyes towards Rainbow Dash, she dimly warned, "Broken Oak likes to be thorough."

They all stopped to quietly observe the mammoth stallion. Standing on the opposite side of the ring, in front of the now engaged and eager crowd, he was limbering up for the battle ahead. When he bent his neck, it cracked like a boulder being split in half. When he stretched his legs, the muscles in them relaxed like the tide going out to sea. When he flexed his body, those same muscles turn to hardened stone. The hairs in the small bound buds of his mane stood up on their ends from the intensity that flowed through him, like the quills of a porcupine ready to strike. The sharp swinging of his tail had all the lashing and snapping of a whip, ready to punish.

Nopony really felt envious of Rainbow Dash.

"Ahehehe, uh, Rainbow Dash, dear," Rarity nervously chittered, "perhaps you should, er, reconsider the matter?"

Apparently unintimidated and stalwart, the pegasus replied, "Somepony has to do this."

"Well," the unicorn timidly responded, "I just mean to say... that is maybe you hadn't noticed... but if his cutie mark is anything to go by then he specializes in," her voice suddenly shifted into harsh, panicked blasts, "BREAKING TREE TRUNKS IN HALF WITH HIS BARE HOOVES!"

But Rainbow Dash only lifted her head and steeled herself. "I'm not afraid," she insisted. "I'll take him."

However, she quickly looked back at Willow Wise and asked with a bit of a reserved squeak, "I, uh, get to use my wings, right?"

The old mare returned a dejected stare. "You must face him on equal ground," she related.

Rainbow Dash took another look at her hulking opposition, still warming up his powerful body. "Great...," she swallowed nervously.

James found it particularly easy to sympathize. After all, he had briefly thought that this fight was going to be his task. He didn't really know enough about Rainbow Dash to judge her chances but she certainly had the necessary attitude and intensity. Maybe she stood a better chance than he did. Even when he had thought that he would be the one to step up, before he knew exactly what kind of physical contest the challenge was going to be, he didn't believe that his prospects of winning had been too great. If he were to have fought, it probably would've gone the same way it had gone earlier in the ambush. The fact of the matter was that Broken Oak's strong pony body gave him significantly more strength and weight than anything the human form could muster. Nothing in the man's experience had given him the know-how for wrestling a furious horse.

Still, not everything of his hand-to-hand combat training was invalidated by the opposition lacking hands. All the ground principles should still have applied. And given the combat rules of this particular contest, Broken Oak's immense power, derived specifically from his immense weight, didn't make him impossible to overcome... it would just require the correct application of force.

He started to tell Rainbow Dash, "Just because you're smaller than him-"

But as soon as the pegasus caught the sound of his voice heading her way, her face contorted with disaffection; a twisted frown with sharp, converging eyes. She snarled at him, "Hey, you know what? I don't really care what you have to say." Suddenly determined, as if her anger at him easily overrode her apprehension of Broken Oak, she buckled herself down and started her own stretches. "I'll take him," she repeated to herself harshly.

The reaction stunned James. He recalled his encounter with Rainbow Dash on the train to Hamestown, when she had been only suspiciously evasive and goofy. When they were captured she had certainly grown tougher, arguing against a plan of patience, but that seemed to have sprung only from her charged emotions and not having had fully grasped their situation. This pure nastiness was something new. It was more like when she had first really confronted him, only much more cold and potent. What had happened to her in order to dial up her hostility and mistrust?

He looked to Twilight, and she looked back in weary worry.

On the other side of the ring, Poppy slowly peeked out of the crowd before approaching the stretching Broken Oak. She held her face down, flush with concern for the way things were turning out, and each step towards him lacked the lively bounce that she had always moved with previously. When he caught sight of her, he paused his exercises to look at her oddly. She quickly asked, from some place of deep unhappiness, "Broken Oak... do we really have to do this?"

His face turned stony and rigid. He resumed his stretching and commanded her, "Prideheart strength, Poppy. How does it go?"

The little filly only stared further into the forest floor. Hardly putting a sincere effort in, she barely got her voice off the ground and weakly sung:

Prideheart strength, stand fast and hold firm
Won't bend, won't break, won't ever squirm
Against odds great you must stand tall
Hold your ground, through the fight or fall

"That's right," Broken Oak noted. "We can't ever stop fighting for our dream."

Poppy wrestled uncomfortably with the stallion's uncompromising perseverance. "What about Prideheart courage?" she asked with a shake in her voice.

Broken Oak stopped again, unsure of what the little filly was asking.

She started singing again, and she was able to pull an extra amount of spirit into her song this time:

Prideheart courage, let fear not sway
What must be done, do all the way
Be more than self, show more than might
No matter what, stand for true right

The massive stallion leaned down towards her and, with a strange but honest sort of encouragement, he told her, "Yes! We must have the bravery to do what is right, in spite of any risk to ourselves! Will you stand for what's truly right, Poppy?"

She looked up at her dear friend; her idol, hero, and mentor. A terrible sadness welled up in her eyes. She was fearful, ashamed, and practically heartbroken. "Yes... I will...," she said.

She turned and trudged away, popping softly over the rope of the makeshift arena on her way to join Willow Wise and the others.

Broken Oak watched her go, completely awestruck. He stared on, dumbfounded, as she reached the other side and hugged Willow Wise. The old mare put a hoof around the little filly and together they tried to embrace away some of their sadness and fear. But then, THAT MAN leaned in and said something to Poppy. That VIRUS.

Grinding his teeth furiously, spitting out breaths like scalding fumes, Broken Oak went back to limbering up. He whipped into a enraged practice buck that came out like an bolt of lightning; it split the air and the witnessing crowd shivered at the boom.

After a final few minutes of preparation, the time came at last. Broken Oak, looking broodingly sober and ready, stepped into the ring and took a place a few paces from the center. Swallowing the last nervous knot in her throat, Rainbow Dash followed his lead. She entered and positioned herself on the opposite side.

The Drypony crowd shriveled up into attentive silence.

Applejack wouldn't stand for that though, and she cheered loudly, "Yeah! Go get'm Rainbow! Show'em what for!"

Pinkie Pie too, though as ever she was oddly effervescent despite the subject matter, "Yeah, go Rainbow Dash! Give'em a Rainbow Smash! And a Rainbow Bash! Take'em out with the Rainbow Trash!"

Twilight looked on at the two contenders staring each other down and she shook her head. "This doesn't have to happen," she tiredly moaned.

"No, this does," James countered.

The unicorn gave him an unbelieving glance, but noticed immediately that he wasn't being contrary. He was gloomy and bleak.

"I mean... the greater conflict between the Dryponies and Princess Celestia," the man carried on, "yeah, that doesn't have to happen. That SHOULDN'T happen. But this here, with Broken Oak? This has to happen." He turned towards Twilight with a profound sense of realization. "This is one of those times, Twilight. Unavoidable battle. Broken Oak will never back down. Not willingly. If it wasn't going to be this then you'd be locking him up with your magic somehow, against his will. And even then, he wouldn't ever change his mind. Even if he were standing alone he would NEVER. BACK. DOWN."

But then, with a faint, distant hope, the man added, "The only thing he may listen to is a fair defeat. If he really believes in strength... He MAY listen..."

Twilight looked back at the two, still only battling with hostile stares. If she still had the magic in her to put a stop to all this, would she have? SHOULD she have? Oh, why hadn't Princess Celestia stopped Prideheart from leaving Canterlot in the first place? This awful situation was unlike anything she had ever encountered before. Whether it was her own inability to interfere, or her own wandering confusion, or even something she had picked up from James, she came to a regretful acceptance.

But she maintained with full conviction, "Rainbow Dash won't lose."

"We can hope," said James.

But she insisted, "No, I know she won't."

Rainbow Dash held still, trying to keep her composure. It was a hard task, especially with Broken Oak a few feet away from her, looking fierce and tapping his hoof like a bull ready to charge. She didn't quite feel like a noble matador.

The pegasus tried to ask her opponent, "So, uh... is there going to be like a bell or-"

Without warning, Broken Oak surged forward, beginning the match and catching Rainbow Dash by surprise. He closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye with crashing stomps and rammed right into her. Knocked down and back, she slid across the dirt, kicking up a cloud of dust. She skid to a stop just short of the boundary rope.

Staggering to her hooves, the pegasus grumbled about the cheap attack as she steadied herself. Broken Oak held still, confident in his inevitable victory, chuckling at her with a mocking smile; all but inviting her to take her best shot. Frustrated and fuming, she immediately accepted and spontaneously took off at him in a barreling gallop.

She threw all her weight against the stallion, trying to return the favor. It only wound up being more like a car crash against a solid brick wall; the mountain of a stallion didn't even slide back an inch.

Hooking a hoof around her neck, Broken Oak easily tossed her down onto the forest floor. Towering over her, he reared up, threatening to smash her under his hooves.

Rainbow Dash scarcely managed to scramble away in time to avoid being crushed. Flopping her limbs about, she hurriedly scratched her way across the ground away from him and then tried to rise up again, only to be tackled by another one of his freight train charges. Kissing the dirt once more, she tumbled across the ground and came to a stop just shy of the rope on the far side of the arena, where the Drypony crowd jeered at her.

She picked herself up another time, more slowly than before, and waves of dirt fell off her as she involuntarily shuddered from her great aches. The unstoppable Broken Oak smoothly waltzed over towards her, taking his time and savoring every moment of the encounter. Again, Rainbow Dash tried to counterattack by rushing into the relentless stallion. When it unsurprisingly didn't slow him down, or even cause him to flinch, she threw her forehooves up against him and dug her hind hooves into the earth in an attempt to hold back his push. Effortlessly, he carried himself forward as if she wasn't even there. The peeling dirt piled up around her hooves as he gradually pushed her right up to the edge of the ring.

With one swing of a hoof, he knocked her under her chin and she flipped back, nearly spilling over the rope. She was only saved when he quickly reached out and grabbed her. "Oh, not yet!" he wickedly warned with wide, eager eyes, before he flung her back into the arena.

Applejack and Pinkie Pie were still cheering for their friend, but now they were fighting against the wild and vocal buoyancy of the Drypony crowd. The violence was getting to be a little too much to bear for some of the others; Fluttershy slunk down and clasped her hooves over her eyes, unable to watch, and Rarity shrieked with every blow against the battered Rainbow Dash. Poppy turned away too, clutching Willow Wise and burying her face into the old mare. This wasn't anything like the hundreds of training matches which she had enthusiastically watched Broken Oak participate in; there was something so unrestricted, unrestrained, and horrible about this fight.

Twilight sternly watched with increasing agitation as every effort by Rainbow was shrugged off and meanwhile every attack by the mighty stallion would send the pegasus sailing. It was agonizing to witness; probably how her friends had felt when they had to stand by while she had been dunked in the lake. Almost automatically the gem on her horn-cap flickered, an empty lighter sparking as it tried to strike a fire. But it was no good; there was nothing she could do except join in her friends' supportive cheers.

Broken Oak seized Rainbow Dash by the tail and swung her through the air, bringing her back down against the ground with a horrendous crash. Picking her up again, he gave her a casual toss to the side, discarding her like a soiled rag. She bounced and rolled along the ground until she came to rest at the edge of the ring again, right in front of her anxious friends. The stallion himself halted his onslaught for a minute, basking in the praise of his crowd as well as enjoying the release that came from fully exercising his own glorious strength.

"Ugh...," the dusty and bruised pegasus moaned as she worked to get on her hooves again. Her knees wobbled and she slipped once, slamming back into the ground, before she was finally up and standing, if a little off-balance.

"You can't-" James suddenly began.

But again the sound of his voice seemed to provoke her and filled her with an energy, even if it was a spiteful and aggressive energy. She straightened out her stance and kept balanced. Frowning bitterly at him, she shouted, "Oh, shut up!"

With things growing as desperate as they were, he didn't let himself be shut out this time. He fought back, "Listen to me! You can't beat him like this! You-"

"I don't want your advice!" she growled back.

"You know," James yelled, fed up, "for once there's something happening that maybe I know a bit more about than any of you probably do!"

"And why should I trust you?" Rainbow Dash spat back at him with a bit of a lunge, nearly toppling herself over. "Why should I believe that you even remotely care about us? Or about anything that happens here?" All the dark memories, all the cautious suspicions, all the loyal worries; they reflected off of her all at once and she snorted sarcastically, "Or were you just going to tell me to find something sharp to skewer him with?"

It was obvious that the last barb had come from a place of mistrust and not accusation; she had lashed out at the man with angry suspicion and broken faith. She had never trusted him in the beginning. She had confronted him, had told him so, and had made a promise to keep a vigilant eye on him. It was only her trust in Twilight that had ever gotten her to ease up on him. But he hadn't lived up to her expectations of friendship. More precisely, she had been inflamed by the funk he had put Twilight in and she especially hadn't been a fan of his recent pragmatism. This whole encounter with the Dryponies had her desperate to protect her friends; ready to do anything for them, but he (in her eyes) had only waited, and waited, and waited. And so she had regressed. Her friends were worth more to her than his trust.

Whatever he would have thought about it in his better moments, right now he thought it was just the stupidest thing to waste time over. "Oh my God, is that what this is all about?!" he cried. "Fine, yeah, maybe I haven't been as respectful and thankful and forgiving as I could have been! Maybe I haven't been the most polite and pleasant tourist who, you know, randomly fell out of the sky one day! Maybe I haven't been a wonderful and special little pony who fits right in to happy-go-lucky old Equestria! Maybe I've made some mistakes! I didn't ask for this! But at least I'd like to think I'm still trying my best anyway! And if trying my best isn't enough for you, then yeah, why should I bother at all, right?!"

Rainbow Dash didn't take his large outburst with any compassion or pity, but she also didn't interrupt or respond this time either. Her glare deepened.

Calming down a sliver, he tried to level with her, "Look, you're more than free to disregard anything I have to say, but given our current circumstances the least you could probably do is listen and decide for yourself!" He shook his head and half-sarcastically remarked, "Maybe we could all use a happy little lesson on trying to listen to one another after this is over."

Again there were no words from the pegasus and no real change in her grim expression, but she did pull back slightly and her ears bent just a little more forward.

With the hope that she would at least hear what she needed, he sighed heavily and more evenly explained, "You're never going to match him power for power. He's way too big and way too heavy. But that's the key!" He pounded his fist into his palm. Clear and deliberate, he said, "He likes to throw his weight around..."

The light bulb could almost be seen materializing over Rainbow Dash's head. It flickered and sparked a few times before streaming out a dim glow that grew brighter and brighter. The pegasus gazed about the area for a moment, collecting something in her head, when her eyes finally settled on Poppy; that little pegasus, wrapped in vines just like she was, whom she had seen earlier prancing and bouncing with delicate skill... The light bulb exploded in shining brilliance.

Without a word but with a great big smirk, Rainbow Dash whirled about to face Broken Oak again. The stallion immediately noticed her sly smile and his own haughty confidence dropped into a somber, angry coldness.

Trying to ignore her aches and pains, the pegasus twisted and cracked her neck while condescendingly saying, "So, are we done warming up yet?"

His nostrils flared as he snorted harshly, the resentful anger bleeding out of his eyes. Grinding a hoof into the ground, he scrapped it backwards against the dirt, getting ready for another charge.

Rainbow Dash began taking gradual steps to her right. "I'm just getting so tired of this practice round," she taunted, playful and snarky. She came to a stop once she was in one of the tighter corners of the ring; a wooden stake behind her with the rope boundaries on either side of her, minimizing her room to dodge. With a facetious wink towards Broken Oak, she remarked, "You guys will send out somepony tougher once the real deal starts up, right?"

The stallion tore into a charge with a furious bellow, racing straight towards his target like an arrow speeding through the air. Each stomp in sequence came down harder and louder than the last as he only picked up speed, coming in for the final bone-breaking blow.

Rainbow Dash braced herself, tucking in low and tight like a wound spring. And at just the last second, in the instant before Broken Oak was going to crash into her so hard she would have been left in pieces, she popped into the air like a Drypony Branch Dancer.

Taken by surprise, Broken Oak slammed his hooves into the earth, trying to arrest his charge. However, even his great strength wasn't enough to immediately halt the incredible momentum he had built up. He slid into the corner, stretching the ropes, and spilled forwards. His rear swung up into the air as his face swiveled down, nearly smashing his nose upon the corner stake.

Gracefully Rainbow Dash came down on her forelegs behind him and quickly pulled her hind legs in. Ready, aim...

"See ya!"

With one solid buck, she pushed him the rest of the way over. Flipping head over hooves past the ring boundary, he landed on his back. It echoed like a mountain falling out of the sky and cratering deep into the earth.

Chapter 20: Trust

The air was squeezed out of the lungs of every last Drypony in the crowd. A smothering blanket of silence wrapped itself tightly around them. An immense stillness swallowed the whole forest. For only a very, very brief moment however.

"YEAH!" Rainbow Dash shouted, bouncing off the ground victoriously as all her friends burst into cheers. Her collection of diverse aches and assorted pains hardly bothered her now that they were so far buried under her exhilaration. She pranced about gaily and lorded over the upside down Broken Oak, "How do you like me now, husky hocks? Woo!"

For several seconds the defeated stallion merely laid there on his back, legs pointed up in the air. He wasn't injured; the feeble bucking by Rainbow Dash had only been just enough to push him over the edge. It had hardly scratched him otherwise, and the short fall to the ground could have been shrugged off effortlessly. He was just so enveloped in absolute shock that he couldn't process what had happened. His dulled eyes rested idly on the inverted pegasus dancing in celebratory triumph.

Finally it all caught up to him and he immediately righted himself, standing up on his hooves instantly. With his eyes on fire, he hissed so hard it blew some frothy saliva right through his bared teeth. He took a single step forward, his hoof pounding down on the stake he had flipped over, driving it completely into the earth in one go, rope and all.

James stepped into the ring and raised his voice. Making positively sure that the Drypony crowd could hear him, he chastised the vengeful stallion, "Hey! Where's your Prideheart honor, Broken Oak?" He pointed at Rainbow Dash and continued, "She won the challenge of strength fair and square. You lost. Maybe if this fight was so important to you, you shouldn't have been horsing around so much!"

The man's intervention didn't seem to do anything except change who the outraged stallion was pointing his loaded ire at. He went to take another snarling step forward.

He snapped out of his furious trance somewhat when Poppy suddenly jumped over to him and threw her forehooves around his advancing leg. "Broken Oak, please don't!" she pleaded, still very upset. She scooched a bit closer as she changed her holding-back into a holding-tight, hugging his leg. "I know you're a real Prideheart hero. Please don't be dishonorable..."

The stallion was absolutely quaking, his fury overwhelming him from one direction, his frustration from another, and his utter shame from yet another. He was unendingly ashamed for having lost legitimately. He could have flung Rainbow Dash out of the arena at any time while he had been dominating the match, but his own weakness for the seductive thrill of combat, his own need to gain fulfillment through unrestrained physical exertion, had lead him straight to a defeat of his own making. His own WEAKNESS.

Poppy squeezed tighter and said, borrowing and rearranging words from James, "They won, so the least we can do is listen to what they have to say and then we can decide for ourselves."

Broken Oak stared at his littlest guard as she clutched onto his leg firmly, the near-tears bunching up in the corners of her eyes. Slowly, his partially raised leg retreated. He looked once more at Rainbow Dash and the Walking Troublemaker with an unbending gaze and without the slightest ounce of surrender. He still wasn't sympathetic to them or even convinced of their arguments in the slightest, but his anger was in check. Without a word, he dropped into a sitting position and watched them in burning silence.

The small filly pulled her hug even tighter and rubbed her head against him, thanking her beloved friend sincerely.

Rainbow Dash had a hard time suppressing her swelling sense of superiority at seeing Broken Oak back down. She was extremely tempted to stick out her tongue and wave it around at him in a cocky insult, but she kept herself together long enough to only give James a small smirk before a professional gravity descended on her. She turned and marched partway across the ring where she stood before the throng of quiet, pensive, and fearful Dryponies.

Stoic and stern, she called out to them, "Now, just to prove that you can't keep us tied up..."

The pegasus drew in a massive breath, hunched down, and poured all her strength into flexing her restrained wings one last time. Whether it was some errant tears from the clobbering she had taken, or some marvelous second wind granted by her astounding victory, or even some magical whim of fate powered by the drama of the moment, after a few seconds of grunting and sweat-drenched labor there was suddenly the slow shredding sound of a rattling sequence of rips. Then, in an instant, the vines wrapping her body roared and split down the middle across her back, falling off to the ground as her great wings emerged free.

Spreading her liberated wings up and out as broadly as they could go, she struck a proud, bold, irrepressible, and heroic pose. Ha! She knew Twilight and Spike weren't the only ones who could pull off an awesome escape!

It stung lightly when she noticed that all her poise and bluster didn't seem to get a reaction from the crowd, who only continued to stare at her in simmering unease. She kept her wings held high while she furled her lip and looked around. At least Poppy seemed to be absorbing her majesty and staring with interest.

"Alright, so," Rainbow Dash began to address the crowd again, shrugging off a disappointed sigh and folding up her wings, "I guess since we won the challenge that means you have to at least listen to what we have to say! So for that I'm going to turn things over to my smart friend Twilight, who I know has something important to tell you!"

The pegasus reached an inviting and friendly hoof out towards Twilight.

Happy and hopeful, the unicorn steadily eased herself off of Applejack's support (with the farm pony's blessings) and took some fragile steps forward on her own. Carefully stepping over the ring's rope and easing along one weakened clop at a time, she joined her friend's side and warmly whispered to the pegasus, "Thank you, Rainbow Dash."

"No problem. And," the pegasus filled with apologetic appreciation, "thank you for having a level head when we needed it the most."

With exchanged smiles, Rainbow Dash took a step back and Twilight claimed the stage. All the trembling Drypony crowd watched the Sun-sorceress anxiously, fearful under the gaze of the magic monster who lead their enemies and had spectacularly overcome their guards. The Dryponies didn't even have enough of their senses collected to whisper furtively amongst themselves. They were fixed upon her, terrified of what she would say or do.

She opened to them with honesty, "Dryponies of Dryearth forest! I am the personal student of Princess Celestia; the personal student of the Sun! But my friends and I were never sent here on any mission of aggression. We were only sent to discover the source of Hamestown's troubles. We were never told anything about you; even the ponies of Hamestown don't know that you are here. Now, we've found out that it has been you who are responsible for their problems. So, what my friends and I are going to do..."

A slight panic stirred up in the crowd.

"... is stay the night here in Heartwood since it's getting late, and then tomorrow morning... we're simply going to leave," the unicorn stated succinctly. She assured them calmly but devotedly, "No fighting, no force, no MAGIC. We're just going to go. We're going to leave and go back to Hamestown.

"However, that doesn't mean things here can keep going on the way they've been going on!" She took another step forward as she called out in a desperate plea, filled with compassionate perception. "I understand that you've only moved against the settlement because you believe you are protecting yourselves from us. But you have to shake yourselves free of that illusion! None of us; not me, not my friends, not the ponies at Hamestown, not even Princess Celestia; none of us want anything bad for you!

"Any trouble that the ponies of Hamestown have caused you has been an accident! Those are problems that can be fixed, if you can set aside your differences and work with the Hamestown ponies. If you would just speak openly with them, you'll find that they're actually very much like you: survivors who believe in their own strength and independence, working hard to get by, working hard to make their own way.

"When my friends and I go back to the settlement, none of you will be forced to accompany us," she insisted in promise. "I can't even justly ask any of you to come. But if there are any of you who would like to come along; any who would like to meet the ponies of Hamestown face-to-face, to begin a fair dialogue with them; you are more than welcome to come with us!" She swung her neck to look behind herself, very specifically and trustingly at Willow Wise. The old mare in turned bowed her head with a single accepting nod.

"As for Princess Celestia," Twilight continued to the crowd, "I don't have any answers for you. Like I told you before, I never heard about you from her at all. But I can promise to try my best to get answers for you. I don't know what happened all those years ago, between Prideheart and the Princess, but you deserve those answers! If you're willing to be patient, to be cooperative, to turn away from your path of separation, then I sincerely hope that one day you'll be able to share Prideheart's story with the rest of Equestria."

With the conclusion of the unicorn's unexpected speech, the low murmur of the Dryponies' consideration began. Frightful and uncertain whispers crawled from one end of the crowd to the other. Could this mare be trusted? They looked for guidance from their contrary leaders: Willow Wise who sat in bowed agreement or Broken Oak who sat in cold and unreadable silence. But there wasn't any explicit direction from either of the still ponies.

James suddenly stepped forward and addressed crowd loudly and firmly, filling the void of authority, "For centuries you've been in this forest, preparing yourselves for a great destiny that you've believed would come one day. It's a destiny, a grand dream, that you defined for yourselves a long time ago. We're not asking you to abandon your destiny; only to see it in a new light."

Many Drypony voices fell to listen. Others kept their suspicious whispers humming.

"It's not going to be any less grand than the old one, or any less difficult. Maybe it'll be even more so," the man went on. "Yes, you've always believed that your destiny would be your greatest challenge, and it WILL BE! You've been preparing yourselves for either a flight from Equestria or a fight to the end... but where's the real challenge in either of those?" he asked them sternly, shaking his head. "An eternal retreat or simply embracing the end? Neither is something that would TRULY challenge you! The real challenge is to make peace! To heal the rift that even Prideheart couldn't! You've built yourselves so strongly against it... so now it has become the greatest test you could ever face. A test in which you must overcome YOURSELVES. And I think that you've proven that you're capable."

He looked back especially at Poppy, Willow Wise, the sympathetic guards, and even Broken Oak. "The spirit to see in others something more than the things we wish them to be; the depth of knowledge and wealth of experience to accept a world larger than your own; the courage to extend a hoof in friendship even in the face of opposition; the fortitude to keep going against all odds, even impossibly great ones... all the tools are there in you! You just have to accept that it's worth trying to meet this new challenge!"

As the man's words died down the crowd slowly turned in on itself, their timid discussion rising into open debate. Some were frightened by the thought of not knowing the future anymore but others sounded more than ready to face down the unknown. The three standing before them - the Walking Desert, the challenge victor, and even the dreaded sorceress of the wicked Sun - gradually seemed to fade away from their attention as more voices came to the fore and their battle became between themselves.

With everything in the Dryponies' hooves now, Twilight, Rainbow Dash, and James turned back around and left them to their debates, contemplations, and decisions. The three all breathed a collective sigh of relief; the largest hurdle had perhaps been jumped.

Rainbow Dash wiped off some of the dirt that lingered on her legs and sides before she tried to stretch away some of her aches, glad to have a moment to rest. Far more laid-back than she had been in a quite awhile, she turned towards James. Gone was her boiling suspicion and nimble hostility. She erupted into contained laughter and said to the man, "Snrk! Nice speech, Dr. Martingale Loper Kingsky!"

Her casual jab set the tone immediately. "Better than yours," the man shot right back with a chuckle.

"Hey, I did all the hard work of shutting up Loudmouth Blabberface over there!" she objected.

"Well, I was going to step up and handle it but you beat me to the punch," he snarked.

"Oh, it would have be HILARIOUS to see him wipe the floor with you AGAIN!"

"Like you got a good look at it the first time," he laughed. But then in mock condescension he added, "But yeah, you're right. It WAS pretty hilarious to watch him hand you your tail until you got a very intelligent tip from an incredibly handsome bystander."

"I would have had him eventually anyway," she easily insisted.

"Pfft, haha! Ahahaha!"

Twilight shook her head, also laughing herself, and finally interceded, "Alright, that's enough. What matters is that things are calm, for the moment." She paused briefly before she more quietly admitted to the man, "I thought it was a good speech. Thanks for the help."

James shrugged a shoulder. "Yeah, well, let's hope it was good enough that they don't change their minds in the middle of the night, jump us in our sleep, and lock us all up."

"They won't," Twilight believed. But after a pregnant pause she trepidatiously said, "Buuuut... maybe I should find somepony to get this thing off my horn right now anyway. To be safe. Oh, and Rarity's. And get Spike and Fluttershy unwrapped, too." She departed their company, still slightly wobbly and unsteady, calling out politely to the sympathetic guards for assistance.

Rainbow Dash went back to pushing past all of the dull leftover pain from her fight, as well as trying to work out the numb stiffness still present in her wings. She complained, "Ugh, I need to go for a fly or something. I feel like I accidentally took a nap while laying on- ? Uh... do you need something, kid?"

Poppy had approached them, staring wide-eyed at Rainbow Dash.

James traced the little filly's gaze and laughed. Bending down at his knees, he asked her, "So... first time that you've gotten a REAL good look at a pair of pegasus wings, huh?"

The rainbow pegasus didn't mind the reinforcement to her inflated ego in the least bit and immediately went back to posing her wings. "Go ahead," she invited, "take a good look. Soak it all in."

The smaller pegasus burbled something awed to herself, still staring with fascination at the big, feathered limbs. So much larger than any bird's in the forest; with perfectly ordered and beautifully shaped feathers; wings that were arched and powerful and ready for takeoff. Her imagination soared.

She suddenly turned her head to look at her own back and the coil of vines wrapping her tiny body. A shy, wishful wonder filled her eyes and, hoping beyond hope, she asked them both, "... Do you think... I have...?"

James winced slightly, suspecting that Poppy would be let down by the likely truth. He gently asked her, "You don't know? When was the last time you had these vines off?"

"Oh... well... never, I guess?" she answered dismally. "We try not to... if they start tearing we just put more on."

Rainbow Dash didn't have any approval for such unnatural restraints and immediately pushed, "Let's get'em off and check, then!"

Poppy grinned in approval at the suggestion as Rainbow Dash looked about. Just outside of the ring, the friendly Drypony stallion was fiddling with Twilight's horn-cap while the friendly mare had a simple knife that she was using to very delicately cut Spike free. "We can ask her once she's finished," the pegasus suggested with a nod to the mare.

"You kidding?" James said. He held up a fist and then popped his index finger up like a switchblade. Now that her curiosity was peaked, Poppy's wrappings were going to be coming off one way or another so it was better to just get it over with.

He drove his finger into the knot on the little filly's back, twisting his digit and wedging it in as he pulled carefully at the tangled rope with his other hand. After several intense moments of meticulously working the knot, wound extremely tight as it was, it finally started to give. "Ha! Never send a hoof to do a finger's job," he laughed at Rainbow Dash. Gripping the loosened knot, he quickly pulled it apart and then gingerly peeled the aged vines off of Poppy's back, dragging the now baggy coils past her tail and dumping them on the ground.

The filly's face fell as her hopes crashed into the ground and smashed to pieces. Sure enough, she had wings and, as would be expected from the generations old Drypony practice of always keeping them bound, they were exceedingly small and limp, practically crushed into her body. There were few fully formed feathers and the ones that had grown completely appeared frayed and unmendable. Endless confinement had left her minuscule wings atrophied and largely useless.

Surprising James, Rainbow Dash had apparently seen this coming and had a response prepared. She placed a comforting hoof onto the nearly tearful Poppy's shoulder and, like a supportive sister, told the filly wisely, "All of the Dryponies with wings are probably just like you. That's what happens when you keep them tucked away forever like that; when you never let them out. They don't get a chance to grow."

Helplessly upset, Poppy looked again at the older pegasus' amazing wings, so full and bright and strong compared to her own sickly pair. She asked vainly, "Maybe... they will grow some more?"

"I don't know; maybe not," Rainbow Dash admitted sorely. "Maybe you held them back too long and now that opportunity is gone..."

Poppy's head dropped with a defeated whine.

"Hey, it's not the end of the world," Rainbow Dash reassured her, with a pat and a smile. "You've still got other, different opportunities if you get out there and catch'em. And besides... you've got some pretty smooth moves without wings anyway, kid."

Adding onto Rainbow Dash's support, James asked the little filly, "You know what they call a winged pony who can race really fast through the tree tops?"

She slowly shook her head.

"Just a regular pegasus," the man casually discarded. "You know what they call a pony who can do that despite not having wings?"

"A... a Branch Dancer...?" Poppy guessed.

"No," he replied, before answering while specifically pointing at her, "Somepony really talented and special."

Backed by their kind words, a simple, embarrassed smile started to break through the little filly's cloudy gloom.

But when it was clear that her small depression still had some hold on her, Rainbow Dash knew it was time for action and chuckled seriously, "Alright then, hop on." She thrust her head between the confused Poppy's legs and rolled the filly onto her back. Flapping her wings, she floated up into the air. "Hold on tight!" she directed.

Now flashing a great big smile, Poppy gripped Rainbow Dash as strongly as she could while the pegasus took off over the concourse. They glided about the open area, zipping and zooming, weaving back and forth, shooting high and dipping low, all at safe enough speeds considering the circumstances. She was carried on a joyride that spread her happy laughter from lake to palace hollow.

James shook his head with a snicker. Ponies riding ponies! A living carousel! But at least that little one should be okay. In all ways.

His musing was interrupted when somepony slowly approached him from the side. "... Lady Willow?" he addressed her.

"I hope a 'thank you' will be in order, when all this is through," the old mare stated.

"Oh, no, no 'thanks' will be needed," James replied, absent of humility. He was rigid and straight. "I just saw what was going on and didn't want to see it descend into something so... pointless. Really, thank you for being brave enough to listen. That must've been the hardest part."

There was a reserved nod from Willow Wise, grateful and at least partially accepting. But there was no mistaking the unsteady nervousness that still rested in her.

James expressed sincerely, "Don't be afraid. If you can keep on stepping into a wider world with your head held high, I really think it'll all work out."

"I am praying so," the old mare related.

She stood there for a moment, thinking of what was to come and her many delicate hopes and wishes for the future, when she had a sudden realization. She told the man, "We sang of the Walking Desert. The one who would lead us away from the wicked Sun. And here you came."

"No, there's no destiny for me here," James shook his head, dazed by whatever she was trying to get at. "And the Princess isn't wicked," he reminded her.

"That's what I just said," Willow Wise sagely stated.

She gave him one last nod and a closed smile. "Tell your friends that I will find space for them to stay in the palace hollow tonight," she said as she turned and walked away, leaving the man to process her words in addition to own fate.

Willow Wise went right over to Broken Oak, who was still sitting on the ground quietly. His eyes were locked on James, unblinking, with a sour and angry frown across his face. There was a subtle, nearly imperceptible quaking to his entire body; the fury had a deep hold, jostling him; it wormed about inside, desperately looking for a justified route of escape. He didn't seem to notice the old mare even as she stood before him.

"Broken Oak," she called to him.

His wrath ignored her, spilling out of his unwavering eyes and passing right through her on its way to the man. His groaning breaths came out boiling.

"Broken Oak!" she called again, more loudly and shaking him with a hoof.

The touch brought him back to conscious reality, like suddenly being awoken from a dream. He gave a small gasp to restart his more regular breathing, his pupils pulsed as his eyes reset and came back to focus, and a jolt ran through his whole body quickly. "Lady Willow?"

"Are you alright, Broken Oak?" she asked him with depth.

"I'm unhurt," he snorted. "Pathetic and lucky attack as it was."

"That's not what I'm asking," Willow Wise said with concern.

The stallion sat there for a moment, trying to absorb her meaning. Then he suddenly complained, still unendingly hostile, "Lady Willow, we shouldn't be trusting them! They-"

"We don't have to trust them, Broken Oak," she pleaded with him. "But we do have to listen to them."

"No! I'm not convinced that-"

"Again," she fought back, tired and exasperated, but not in conflict with him at all, "we don't have to be convinced. But we do have to try. This unknown future has more hope than the old horizon, now so dark and tragic. It was a fight that wouldn't win us anything."

"But Prideheart-!" Broken Oak tried to object.

"Are you afraid?" she abruptly asked him. He was so offended at the insinuation that he had completely missed her truly earnest tone, and she immediately pushed on to admit to him, "I am. I am very afraid, Broken Oak. For all its impossibility, the old dream was at least certain; we knew where we stood and what we would have to do... to whatever end it lead." Her voice grew ever more shaky as a few frightened tears built up. "But with this, we'll have to walk on faith and struggle to find our way against our own darkness. It will take MORE courage than before. More, to pray our enemy isn't what we believe. More, to find new balances to Prideheart's virtues."

She sighed. "But... lately, I have decided... that I care more about our future than our past. I would rather us take the risk of the unknown for a chance at rest than send us into that old future that was so recklessly tied up with the past; that future which we now know is an inferno. The dragon fire that cleaved Prideheart's spirit... we would dredge it up from the past to consume us too, if we never find the strength to heal the oldest wounds."

"Lady Willow..."

"I'm quite old," she shivered, "and there isn't much time left for me. Somepony must keep the Dryponies safe when I am gone. I still need you, Broken Oak. Your strength, your bravery..." She took a small step towards him so she could gently rub his cheek with her hoof. "On this new path, right or wrong as it may be, the Walking Desert was correct; it will test us in hard ways we could not have imagined. You must be around to keep the Dryponies safe through it; not sacrificed in some unnecessary fight for the sake of honor..."

The massive stallion sat quiet, something washing over him as the weeping Willow Wise tenderly stroked his cheek. His giant hoof came up, edged around her tired, shaking body, and pulled her in for an embrace with the softest part of his endless strength.

From the perspective of Hamestown, the moonlit forest had always been an oppressive wall of nightly noises and foreboding darkness. But in a strange way, things were quite different in the center of the forest. There was a certain peaceful brightness to the Heartwood nights. The deep sounds of teeming life, chips and chirps and squeaks and songs, came from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Instead of the sounds being hostile or threatening, they echoed like an evening at rest. The flickering crystals scattered about the forest village kept it dimly lit with a glow as warm as any moon's but with colors as vivacious as any spring day.

The lights that came from the inside of any given Drypony hollow or hut were much brighter, spilling out through their windows and doors. It was a village up late, everypony around every free table, pouring cups of their strongest drinks and discussing the matters of the most dramatic day they had ever seen in four hundred years. Families and friends traded thoughts and ideas on what exactly tomorrow might bring while they held their foals close before putting them to bed.

It wasn't much different for the palace hollow. The strong light coming from the windows and broad archway lent it the appearance of a charming and friendly jack-o'-lantern resting comfortably on a neighborhood porch. The makings of some activity inside could be seen through the openings, with shadows that moved from here to there as the light was tickled and bounced about. But not all the guests were part of those activities. Out on the surrounding balcony was the Walking Desert; James.

He sat on the edge, close to the hollow entrance and the ramp, with his legs hanging off the side. He was tall enough to lay his forearms flat before him on the short railing, resting his chin upon it and looking out towards the nighttime village. The rest of his companions had all been fast to retreat inside and collect some proper rest after a wearying day, whether that meant nursing bruises, or finding a mirror for some emergency hair styling, or pigging out on snacks. But the man had retreated to silence and isolation, sitting there long and quiet, accompanied only by his heavy, audible breaths.

At some point his night was interrupted by a ready set of clops coming out of the archway. He perked up, looked, and was quite surprised to see the backlit silhouette of a rainbow-maned pegasus standing there.

"Not going to get any rest?" Rainbow Dash asked him.

He turned back towards the village. "Eh, I don't really rest when I sleep anymore anyway."

"What's THAT supposed to mean?" she wondered as she approached.

"Nothing. What's up?"

The pegasus squirmed with flustered discomfort, lowering her head a little and looking away. She told him with mild reservation, "So... I already apologized to Twilight, once she finally stopped chatting up that old coot."

"Apolo-? What?" James said. The relevance of this was completely lost to him and he rotated to face her again.

Rainbow Dash rubbed her neck awkwardly. "Yeah, you know... for being so aggressive and pushy before... and basically encouraging her to screw everything up and start a great pony war."

Still caught by the irrelevance, but at least happy to hear of her humility, he joked, "Oh. For being a hardheaded moron. Okay, got it."

"Hey!" she responded, before she latched on to his jest and snorted in amusement, "Very funny." She collected herself and then, again with an ounce of uneasiness, she said, "Anyway, now it's your turn."

"My- wait. For an apology? Why?" he asked, stunned. Lately this pegasus had been nothing but a barrel of surprises.

"Cause... I was a jerk?" Rainbow Dash answered as if he should have known. "Not saying that you haven't been a little terrible yourself, or that you haven't... made some mistakes...," she specifically echoed his earlier words, "... but I certainly wasn't being helpful by being all suspicious and, you know, jerky."

James gave her a strange stare. He didn't question her commitment to her apology. It was just so out of left field. Finally he replied, "No, no, there's nothing you did that- This is just like before, at Fluttershy's cabin. You were only being cautious of me to try and protect your friends and everything right? I can't... fault you for that. It's fine."

Rainbow Dash groaned and rolled her eyes at him. It was already difficult enough to have to apologize, and he just couldn't make it any easier, could he? "Yeah, maybe it was okay that I didn't get on board with trusting you immediately and everything, but I was kind of going over the line by giving you no chances, or no credit when you earned it."

"Really?" he almost scoffed. Again, another surprise coming from the brash pegasus. "I never thought too much of it, I guess. I mean, I thought we had a good rapport on the first train ride," he said.

"Eh... we were getting along, but what does it say that the instant I heard something was off from Twilight I threw out everything and pegged you for a monster?" she asked rhetorically. She dipped her head again, the ends of her mane dangling slowly with regret. "Then, I let it get so bad that I counted you out of everything. So even though you were working this whole time to make everything right, I wouldn't believe it. AND, then when things got really bad I endangered everypony by not even being willing to listen."

The pegasus let out a repentant sigh and brought herself up to the task, saying, "Anyway the point is, if you're going to be around for awhile then I'm not REALLY helping my friends if I'm always at complete odds with you for no good reason. Especially if you're trying. So... it wasn't cool of me to be all against you like that and... I'm sorry." She nodded once, reinforcing to herself that everything had come out correctly.

"Well, I still don't-" James started, before he just canceled everything, shaking his head. "You know what, you're right. Apology accepted. There's no sense taking this nowhere."

"Of course I'm right, ogre boy," she asserted with a silly smugness.

James laughed once, thought for a moment, and then said, "It's a little weird, all this. You strike me as someone I can really easily get along with. Just haven't yet, because... we need the right reasons, I suppose."

"Well, let's start on that right now then." She held out a hoof at him, declaring, "I'm officially upgrading this friendship to 'pals' status. Don't disappoint me, Wingless."

The man looked at her available hoof for a second before he accepted by bumping his fist into it. "You got it, No-fingers."

Something eased in the air. The night felt just a little bit clearer.

James brought his arms back on top of the rail and gazed out past the dim concourse again.

"What are you even looking at?" Rainbow Dash decided to ask.

"Uh, need to get your eyes checked?" the man quipped and pointed across the open area before them.

"Woah."

The crystals in the village gave Heartwood a mystical, if still dark, glow in the deep of the night. But the largest groupings of crystals by a long shot, and therefore the brightest part of the village, were in the lake. The towers of crystals that sprang up out of the water, large and small, glowed strongly in the shadows. The radiant colors that they gave off pooled together into waves of rainbow light. They mixed with the gently stirring water to create dancing spectacles on the surface of the lake; parades of rich and luminous colors marching about the water, ever-changing in hue and intensity, like an eternal, silent firework show. The tree trunks and leaves all around the lake caught the reflections of spreading colors, shifting constantly between blues and greens, between reds and yellows, between purples and oranges; a painted forest which shone so dynamic and brilliant as the different lights fought with each other for space. The most beautiful aspect of it all could only faintly be seen from up on the balcony: there were many times more crystals under the water than there were that breached the surface. They were hardly visible during the day but at night those innumerable crystals gave off their glows so visibly that it was as if a shining city of lights was hidden deep within the lake.

"It's almost like the aurora," James breathed in controlled awe.

"The what?" Rainbow Dash asked without taking her eyes off the wondrous sight.

"A... a phenomenon of lights in the sky... at some places back home," he explained quietly. "I never saw'em, except in pictures. I guess I would've liked to... and I guess this is as close as I'll ever get..." He grew very cold and still.

Rainbow Dash's eyebrow came up. "I thought you said there wasn't any magic where you're from?" she questioned.

"There isn't."

The pegasus tried to work through the many thoughts and questions that sprung up in her head, some far simple and mundane but others way deeper than what she usually liked to house. It was a little much, and she certainly didn't have qualms letting most of it go. What absolutely didn't escape her was James' continued wistful and wounded stare out at the lake.

"Hey...," she slowly came in, "so... pals help each other out, right?"

James pried his arms off the rail again. "It's... traditionally considered so. Why?"

She pondered wordlessly for a moment; about the past few days; about Twilight and Applejack. A forced nonchalance quickly came over her. "Ah, no reason," she dismissed plainly. "For now, anyway."

All her labors for the day finally finished, she released a long-imprisoned relaxation with a single great sigh and then turned to head back inside. Her soreness seemed to finally catch up to her and she moved with a bit of a limp. "I'm going to go get some well-earned sleep. Try to get some yourself."

Once more, his eyes moved to the lake. "I'll try," he quietly promised.

Chapter 21: Return

Night passed and morning came. The tree-filtered sunlight, fresh with the soft morning warmth, gently overpowered the glow of the forest crystals.

Twilight and her friends had a bit of a late start, recovering from the burdensome exhaustion they had picked up from an eventful yesterday. What's more, they woke up to a palace hollow that was empty save for themselves. No Drypony was there to have served as an alarm clock, or even just to keep a guarding watch over them. The only thing left behind for them was plenty of food for a fit breakfast.

The purple unicorn herself felt immensely better, in both body and spirit. No horn-cap holding her back or chafing her, no fearful and suspicious eyes drilling into her, and, as embarrassing as sleeping in a little had been, a solid night's rest had replenished her strength nicely. With the Dryponies seemingly still agreeable to letting her and her friends depart (as no ambushes had descended upon them in the middle of the night,) the worst truly appeared behind them. She was liberated by hope. Maybe there might still be many hard miles to walk in the Dryponies' journey but the terror of the stormy mountain climb was hopefully all left to the past; only a long descent into the valley of peace ahead.

It was a sunny disposition that seemed to be shared by most of her companions. The confident Rainbow Dash wasn't slowed down in the least by any leftover soreness that her snoring sleep hadn't erased. Whatever dark omens had consumed Fluttershy earlier seemed to have completely vanished and she was sweet-voiced and smiling once more. Beauty work and beauty sleep, assisted all the while by one loyal and faithful dragon, had brought Rarity back to top form and it reflected immediately in the much more delightful state of mind that she then kept. The good cheer was rounded off by plenty of jolly chatter from Applejack and boisterous laughter from Pinkie Pie, who was far and away her usual perky self except more chipper, if that was possible.

The odd element out was James, who sat off to the side quietly as the rest of his companions all pushed past the last of their groggy wakefulness and prepared themselves for the morning's journey. It was impossible not to notice the lingering stiffness left in his body and the deep bags under his eyes.

Pinkie Pie was the first to step outside onto the balcony, and she was quick to scream excitedly for her friends to come see. They all rushed out to get a look at the concourse below where they saw that the early-to-rise Dryponies had already prepared themselves for the trip.

Willow Wise was there, just as she had implicitly promised Twilight she would be. It wasn't any surprise to see Poppy there also. The little filly hadn't put on any fresh vines to cover her wings up again but by her broad smile and irrepressible skipping about it was plain to see that she wasn't bothered by her dinky, stubby wings anymore. Broken Oak's presence was perhaps a bit more unexpected. He didn't look any friendlier than before, with his narrowed and suspicious gaze being backed by a frigid demeanor. But it was good to see him only waiting patiently for what was to come next and not stomping about preaching revolution.

What was most spectacular was that there were some fifty or more additional Dryponies who had decided to come along. They were younger and older, guards and villagers, skeptical and hopeful. Together they were gathered in order to face the Hamestown ponies in the light for the first time.

The tent of stolen supplies had been emptied too. The crates, barrels, bags, and more were laid out in organized bunches about the concourse. Distributed among the many Dryponies were simple carriages, baskets that could be mounted on pony backs, and even pallets that had wooden poles laid through them so that they could be carried by both sides like a sedan chair. The Dryponies were going to return the purloined goods.

Twilight was overwhelmed with joy at the sight and immediately went down the ramp to greet Willow Wise, happily petitioning her friends to hurry along as she went. She couldn't wait to get this show on the road.

Ready greetings were given by Willow Wise and Poppy; Broken Oak couldn't be troubled to spare much more than a grunt and a turned head. As all of Twilight's friends quickly filtered in, one after the other, the friendly Dryponies who had once guarded them while they were imprisoned cordially returned any bags taken from them when they had first been captured.

Not wanting to delay by a single tick of a clock, Twilight offered departure at the very first hint that everypony was ready to go. It was agreed to swiftly by Willow Wise, and the Dryponies present followed their leader's instructions and gathered up the supplies for transport.

Other Dryponies, themselves staying behind, stood on the side of the concourse, or nestled high in a branch, or perched upon a wooden terrace, and they called out wishes of luck and care to their more adventurous brethren; Prideheart blessings of strength and will; prayers for the best possible future, whether it was one they viewed with dread or hope.

Backed by those farewell calls, the large assembly of ponies (and man, and dragon) departed Heartwood at last. They left behind the crystal studded lake with its rocky springs, the suspended neighborhoods high in the trees, the open ground of ceremony and judgment, the small island of a hut for prisoners, the grand and gigantic tree that served as a timber palace, and the thousands of adorations of a hero that filled it; the preserved memory of a four hundred year old legacy hewn from pride, faith, pain, and suffering.

The travelers followed one of the rivers out of Heartwood; the very same one that they had followed in just yesterday. After all, even if there were faster and straighter routes, this waterside road would eventually run its way down to Hamestown anyway. In addition, the ground around it was slightly softer and a little more devoid of trees, easing things for the crowd and those that carried heavy loads. The further they went away from the forest village, the more the power of the river declined. The crystals dotting the running water steadily shrank in number and size until they simply weren't there at all, returning the now-stream to a quite ordinary appearance. And at that point, the group was hiking through the quiet deeps of the forest.

It wasn't a very talkative journey for the most part. Few of the Dryponies had anything to say to their still-not-fully-trusted guests and they had mostly discussed everything that needed to be discussed amongst themselves the day before. Any conversations Twilight and her friends engaged in tended to be insular to their own circle. Maybe they didn't want to jinx themselves; Hamestown was closer with every step but they still weren't there yet. Even so, not all of them were quiet and exclusive out of uneasy suspicion.

"Well, you're looking particularly invigorated Fluttershy, if I may say," Rarity told her winged friend as they marched along.

The bright pegasus was positively beaming. She carried the gentlest smile, stretched wide with relief. Her steps were soft and light even without any use of her wings, and she virtually danced her way down the path. Her eyes were all about the forest, rejoicing at all they saw and sparkling with soothed bliss.

In easy, pleased breaths, she answered her friend, "They're out there. They see us. They know something's happening."

Spike moaned insecurely, "Oh, uh... is... is that a good thing?"

"It sure is," Fluttershy said gracefully with a raptured smile.

With twinges of forgotten sadness, she looked out into the past and related, "The Dryponies had their own balance with the animals of the forest for a long, long time. But when the frontiersponies came along, things changed. The Dryponies, afraid of the settlement and of the future, put their frightened desires ahead of their harmony with the animals. They forgot how to live alongside the forest. All the animals of this place, including themselves, suffered as a result." Her eyes came up settled, peaceful, and fixed upon a happy future. "Now that they're going to work together with the frontiersponies, everything can finally be brought back into harmony for the forest."

"That is assuming everything goes well, of course," Rarity warned.

"It has to," Fluttershy replied, devoid of fear or doubt. She was certain without determination; it was just the way things were going to go, simple as that.

"Aw, why wouldn't it?" Pinkie Pie chimed in, skipping along in her usual, buoyant way. "The Dryponies'll just LOVE the party!"

"Um, pardon me, Pinkie dear," Rarity turned about, littered with apologetic confusion, "but there isn't going to be a party. This is going to be a tense encounter between some long estranged ponies and other ponies that they less than adore." She had many doubtful stares for her eccentric friend. "Not quite a formula for a merry-making event, you see."

Without a shred of uncertainty; without missing a beat in her bounces; Pinkie Pie resisted, "Nuh uh. I heard Twilight talking to Lazy Wilmow about a 'par-tey' with the frontiersponies!"

"Ugh. 'Parley,' Pinkie," corrected Rarity, sighing. "It's a fancy word that means, 'negotiations.'"

"But," the pink pony continued to fight, all without surrendering any of her cheerfulness, "she said they were even going to give the frontiersponies a 'present!'"

"They're going to 'present' them with their returned supplies," the frustrated unicorn cleared up yet again. "I'm sorry dear but Twilight's not inviting the Dryponies out for cakes, gift-giving, and dancing."

"Pfffbbb," Pinkie Pie blew out of her lips, buzzing loudly. "That's silly." Her voice suddenly sped up, a vinyl record of a preserved speech spinning faster and faster and faster, rocketing through words like a brakeless train through a station. "Why wouldn't we have a party to celebrate our reunion with a lost group of ponies who four hundred years ago left Canterlot under the lead of an injured hero who had fought to save Equestria from a terrible dragon but was left so wounded by the encounter that he felt like he had to run away from the world, and who have lived isolated in this forest for so long that they started to build up the idea that their position was the result of wicked machinations by Princess Celestia instead of the unfortunate result of terrible mistakes and tragic circumstances, but now when they actually met us they found out we weren't the monsters they always thought we were and had to face the choice of if it was more important to never move on from the comfortable if dark existence they had been so used to or to try to fix a mistake that happened so very long ago?"

She looked back at her friends, almost insulted. "Why wouldn't we have a party for THAT?" she asked ardently.

There was nary a reply from any of her companions, who didn't have an answer to her question... if they had even caught the full backstory that she had so rapidly delivered. They all gave idle glances and shrugs.

Pinkie Pie sensed the air ahead, sniffing not with her nose but with some organ of her imagination. "There's definitely going to be a party," she decided securely.

"Oh Pinkie, please don't...," Rarity entreated soberly.

But with a strange, happy smile and a sing-songy voice the pink pony responded, "It's not going to start with me!"

"Goodness, I'm feeling a bit faint," the unicorn complained in reply, battered by worries of her excitable friend's plans (or non-plans.) She had to pause her walk for a moment to hold a dainty hoof up to her forehead, but this only got her to notice the sour condition of her delicate hooves and she whined, "Ugh, and the long walk through all this mud has been absolutely devastating for my hooves." She pried her hoof away only to feel it tear some sticky perspiration off her face as it went. "UGH! And I'm sweating! Spike!"

With eyes closed, snout held up, and claws that flipped up one by one as he enumerated, the servile dragon professionally and quickly dispensed, "Well, your fur is a stunning shade of white today, your mane is exceptionally well curled and has quite a gorgeous shine to it, and even the forest with all its natural beauty is looking at you with jealousy."

"Ahhh," Rarity sighed, soothed immediately. She resumed her steps, less heeding of her beauty-hostile environment than before because of the dragon's strong support. "Thank you, Spike. I can always count on you to be a perfect gentlecolt."

Spike's nose tipped even higher as he rubbed his fist on his chest calmly. Then he took a moment to turn his head back and swiftly sneered, tongue out and all, at the Drypony jail guard who had dared to make a pass at lovely Rarity in his absence.

Poppy bounded her way along, sometimes skipping and leaping about, other times merely cycling her little legs quickly to keep up with the larger strides of everypony around her. She was filled with equal parts blazing anticipation, hungry curiosity, and tender trepidation.

As the journey wore on, her attention caught on to Willow Wise's increasingly sluggish movements. The old mare's body shook more unsteadily than ever before, her breaths were getting heavier, and the sweat was building in her endlessly braided mane. She had to swat some thick, soaked braids out of the way of her eyes now and again.

The little filly asked, mildly troubled at the new sight, "Everything alright, Lady Willow?"

But the old mare pulled up a big smile and in between her labored breaths she responded, "Yes, yes, quite so. I'm afraid it's just been a long time since I've ever had to walk this far! It's a little much for my creaky old bones."

"Well, I think we could probably rest if-" Poppy began to offer.

"Oh, no! No need," Willow Wise insisted gaily. Despite all her fatigue, a spiritual strength shown through. "Our fate has been waited for long enough. And I don't want to slow down our travel to hold it off even more. This journey is hard... but it'll be worth it, I pray. In fact... I feel more prepared for what is about to happen than for anything that I've been readied for in my entire life..."

The old mare's reply was somewhat beyond Poppy's ability to fully grasp but the little filly nodded happily nonetheless.

She continued along for many paces more, tossing her chief's words about in her head, before she decided to seek extra information. Deftly shifting ahead of the Drypony crowd, she caught up to Twilight's group and one individual in particular. "Hey James...," she opened.

The man woke up from his pensive, downcast stride. "Hm? Yes?"

"What's going to happen when we get there?" she asked him.

"Oh," James muttered, her question helping to pull him the rest of the way out of his rumination. He quickly adopted a more genial posture as he slowed his pace slightly to help the little filly keep up. Warm and friendly, with all his older cousin instincts on display, he explained, "Well... when we get to Hamestown you're going to meet the ponies who live there personally, instead of watching them while hiding in the trees. And we're going to hope that they forgive you for breaking and taking their stuff."

Poppy's mouth wobbled, bent with guilt.

"Don't worry about it," James assured her, "I don't think that they'll be too upset once they see that you're returning everything you took." He tilted himself closer to the filly and dropped his voice into an obvious secretive whisper, "And to be honest, their mayor is a pretty silly guy. He'll probably be 'as overjoyed as an ostrich' or something like that just to see it all back."

"So... they won't be mad?" Poppy wondered, innocently dubious.

"I don't know for sure if they will be or they won't be," he admitted, "but I think they'll understand that forgiveness, friendship, and cooperation are more important for survival than staying hurt over some past troubles and mistakes."

The little filly thought on it for a moment before she came back with only a broad, accepting smile.

The journey ate an appreciable chunk of the morning, though it was shorter and passed much faster than their original trip into the forest. As they drew towards the end, the entire group felt the presence of Hamestown encroaching upon them. The green air of the forest slowly thinned as the gasps of light from above grew wider and stronger. A sensation of rising to some peak, of preparing for an impending fall, crept up into the travelers as the threshold came ever closer. And then suddenly the stream they had been following pooled into an artificial spring.

Twilight recognized it as the work of the Hamestown ponies; part of the development on their planned expansion. A small dam plugged the stream, creating the spring and leading a controlled amount of water down a new channel. On the far side of the water there was a group of forest critters who had been partaking of the artificial bounty. Their tiny eyes inquisitively watched the travelers as they passed.

And just ahead, the tree line waited. The last trunks before the edge of the forest were like the bars of a cell. The space between them flashed with white sunlight and obscured what was beyond. The mystery of the other side couldn't be seen until, with final breaths, the group crossed through.

As their eyes fought off the full power of the late morning sun, no longer obstructed by mighty trees, they all took in the incredibly unexpected sight before them. The many buildings and farms of Hamestown were to their left, the continuation of the stream wound its way away from them to their right, and the field ahead rolled openly with a fuzzy carpet of grass, coated with a smattering of construction supplies and supporting a crystal clear view of the Pearl Peaks beyond. However, a rather large crowd of frontiersponies had gathered there; perhaps all of Hamestown even. Mayor Quillby was quite noticeably among them, prominent in his fine vest and with his puffy plume of a tail.

But it was the pony who stood by him that shocked the Dryponies, and even Twilight and her friends. There was a shining, golden chariot hitched to a pair of proud and patient Royal Guards, clad in their equally shining armor. And standing before them; taller than any pony present, sparkling like a rainbow, clothed in an aura of light all her own, pure and white as brightest daylight; was Princess Celestia; the Princess of the Sun.

All of the Dryponies came to a stop. Some became leery and cautious, others simply turned more terrified than anything else. Some felt trapped or deceived. Dark whispers moved through them, contained perhaps only by Willow Wise's choice to stoically stand silent at the head of their number.

Princess Celestia, as well as the whole frontierspony crowd, looked up as they noticed the arrivals crawling out of the forest. The pony princess began to approach the Dryponies, with the citizens of Hamestown following up shortly behind her.

Twilight, stunned by the Princess's presence, made a motion for her friends to wait there before she raced out to meet her mentor. They met halfway, where the unicorn desperately asked with a swift and incomplete bow, "P-Princess Celestia! I... I wasn't expecting- I mean... what are you doing here?"

But with a blessed smile and an adoring gaze, the Princess replied simply, "My sister told me that she saw the small beginnings of change in a long held dream last night. You have worked your magic more quickly and more impressively than I could have ever hoped, my faithful student. I flew here immediately upon hearing it." She paused for a moment. Something subtle took her, and from a very deep, sincere place she added quietly, "Thank you..."

The Princess continued past her student, who fell in behind her, still awestruck. They, with the Hamestown ponies at their back, walked straight at the increasingly cringing and frightened Dryponies. There were a small few of the Drypony number, most specifically Broken Oak, who refused to be intimated and braced themselves, ready for whatever final battle was to come.

Princess Celestia came right up to Willow Wise, still so stationary and quiet. Though she rose above most ponies, the Princess especially towered over the shrunken, elder mare. There was a cold, frozen moment as they stood before each other with locked eyes; an icy instant that was the culmination of an endless chain of events that at the final second seemed to stretch out into infinity. Then, the Princess raised and spread her wings.

The Dryponies, all except Willow Wise, Broken Oak, and Poppy, cowered and held their breath.

But the Princess's wings turned flat and tilted down as she slid one forehoof forwards and pulled the other back to lower herself down to her knee. She bent forward, far and deep, dropping her head so far down that her long horn touched the ground. The dignified Princess of the Sun held herself that way, bowing before the Drypony chief. In a voice which was respectful, meek, and even a little contrite, she said to the wayward ponies, and to Willow Wise particularly, "It is my great, humble honor to be before you, descendants of noble Prideheart. Long ago, to the loss of all of Equestria, and to my personal shame, the hero of Canterlot fled away to these woods. It is my true hope that you will offer me the chance to earn your forgiveness and your trust so that one day the rift that was made so long ago will finally have the chance to fully heal."

Most of the Dryponies couldn't believe what they had just heard. They looked to their old leader. Willow Wise stood still as stone, staring into the bowed Princess; gazing directly into the wicked Sun, whose light was supposed to have been vindicative, punishing, and blinding.

Her aged body started to move at a slow and tired pace. Shaking with effort, her hooves spaced out and... she eased herself down to one knee as well. With her own bowed head, she replied, "Princess Celestia; of the Sun... It is my hope that you will prove yourself and that we might have the strength to give you that chance. I look forward to seeing it."

"I am glad to hear it," Princess Celestia announced as both ponies rose up as equals.

Twilight and all of her friends traded ecstatic smiles.

The Dryponies recovered from their fearful surprise, stood up straight behind their leader, and truly observed their supposed enemy for the first time. Darkness gave way to a glimmering awe. Four hundred years ago night had fallen on Prideheart and Canterlot, but at long last they started to see the dawn.

Broken Oak appeared as the most solid and unmoved of the Dryponies there; never once flinching at the Princess; never backing down in fear. But in an unusual way he was actually the most frightened of them all. He glared at the Princess with a strange combination of muddled hostility, uncomfortable confusion, and a disoriented sense of self. Nothing in him had ever prepared him for a moment like this. Nothing had readied him for a future that, perhaps, couldn't use him.

He stiffened up when Princess Celestia suddenly looked straight at him. There was no evil coming out of her gaze; he could see right away, through the very glass of her eyes, that she was full of a misty memory. Something old, warm, and happy came out of her.

"Are you of Prideheart's line?" she unexpectedly asked him, deep in wonder.

Still slightly wary, he managed to politely answer with his proudest truth: "Yes."

"You look just like him," the smiling Princess told the sturdy stallion. "The same inner strength, the same noble bearing, the same absolute honor... I am so very glad to meet you," she said, sending a small bow of her head his way.

For a moment there was no response from Broken Oak. Then, at last, he found the strength in himself to give her a simple, respectful, acknowledging nod.

James watched the proceedings with relief. There was no doubt in him anymore about how things would work out now. Maybe there had been elements of Princess Celestia's ultimate approach to addressing this long-running tragedy that he found disagreeable, some things that he would have never done or risked himself, but in the end she knew what she had been doing: she had tried her best, even if it meant sometimes standing back and letting things unfold as they would.

The man laughed to himself when he looked down and caught Poppy staring at the Princess with an open mouth and wider eyes than he had ever seen. She was mesmerized by the dazzling sight of the Princess, the reflection of the royal pony perfectly clear in her mystified, glimmering, amber eyes. It was like she was watching the dancing flame of a candle. If the little filly was merely awestruck when she had seen Rainbow Dash's wings, she was utterly overcome with a tsunami of astonished wonderment at the sight of the pony princess.

Bending down, James whispered amusedly in her ear, "Not quite what you expected, huh?"

"She's beeeaaauuutiful...," Poppy echoed inattentively.

"Yeah, she's something else," the man admitted, moved by something other than her appearance.

He stood back up and took another look at Princess Celestia. For a brief moment the pony princess turned and matched his eyes. Her stare was just long enough to deliver a thankful, though still silly and sly, smile.

It surprised the Dryponies just how eager the frontiersponies were to meet them. Just as James had predicted, Mayor Quillby was so filled with gratitude by their returning of the supplies that he hardly seemed to recognize that they had been the original thieves to begin with! The rest of the Hamestown ponies too were so caught up in relief that they simply didn't care to harbor any anger or feelings of vengeance. All they cared about were that the supplies were back, which meant that they had enough to make it through the next cycle of seasons.

But as the dialogue opened, the frontiersponies became even more eager and friendly. Hearing about the Dryponies' long survival in the forest astounded them. They had worked hard to make their way for a few decades; had toiled to pull together and build a solid settlement that was just now seeing the true beginnings of its own success. But here were these ponies that had been surviving in the forest for CENTURIES! Now their little settlement had neighbors that they could learn so much from! And when the frontiersponies heard of the animal troubles that Heartwood had experienced lately they became candidly and profusely apologetic.

It really left the Dryponies in an awkward position. They had spent so much time discreetly monitoring their enemies. They had put much into launching a counterattack against them. And now they were being hosted gratefully by those enemies? Being apologized to? Being excitedly beseeched for wisdom?

So much of the fear and doubt that had still held sway over the Dryponies, that had lingered in different nooks and crannies hidden within them, was scrubbed away. Willow Wise in particular, sitting at rest after the long and difficult journey, was set at immediate ease when she spoke with the quaint, polite, and charmingly amusing Mayor Quillby. The dialogue started with just the two of them, as their respective ponies sat silently behind them and Princess Celestia mediated between them. Dusty, sturdy, strong, stalwart, decent, and dedicated ponies on one side... and, it became clear, the same exact thing on the other side, only with black marks around their right eyes. Eventually, bit by bit, other voices came in to the discussion, speaking not with concern but with casual curiosity. Slowly the conversation fractured into smaller units and some ponies moved from here to there as the crowds steadily started to mingle.

The structured discussion between negotiating sides leisurely transformed into something else. Something much less like a council of peace and far more like a family reunion.

As all of this was going on, Twilight and her friends quickly began to feel like extra wheels. They had done their part already and weren't needed anymore. There simply wasn't much they could contribute to the ongoing dialogue; each side could speak openly for themselves now and didn't need the support of those who had made first contact. Even Twilight, who had tried so hard at first to keep up, if only to sate her own need for responsibility and knowledge, found she had very little to give now. One by one they dropped out, leaving the Dryponies, the frontiersponies, and the Princess to successfully continue to navigate their own course.

Pinkie Pie never seemed to pay much attention to the event at all. She instead watched the Hamestown buildings with expectation, waiting for something she positively knew was going to happen. Her jittery excitement hit the tipping point as noon approached and those frontiersponies who had taken the returned supplies came back, and came back ready. On their backs they carried baskets and baskets of prepared foods; enough for dozens of picnics. Enough to feed all of Hamestown and its large collection of guests. Enough to celebrate something amazing. The pink pony happily broke away from her friends at the sight and threw herself overboard in helping the frontiersponies set up. It wasn't going to be enough for her that it be JUST a picnic.

Caught up in their many conversations, the by then homogenized participants of the great union never noticed what was going on next to them. Not until their hunger started to become noticeable enough to interrupt them, at which point they looked up and were struck by the incredible transformation of the field. There were blankets laid everywhere, each hosting a large and delicious spread of food, all ready to eat. But more impressively, from out of some unexplainable place, there were celebratory banners hung about, shining streamers stretching from here to there, and colorful balloons tied everywhere. It was a perfectly inviting picnic party and it was immediately agreed to by all sides that a recess was needed to 'handle' this latest situation. Together; Drypony, frontierspony, Princess, and all; sat down for a bite to eat.

Twilight sat by herself for a short time, nibbling away at her chosen plate of food and enjoying the profound relief from everything having turned out so well. She picked herself up when Rainbow Dash and Applejack approached her together. They were far from concerned but they certainly weren't as placid as she was.

"Is something wrong?" she asked her friends.

"Nah, not so much," Applejack almost casually delivered. "It's just... hmm... well... what do you think, sugar cube?" She pointed off to the side.

She highlighted James, who sat on a stump by himself away from any of the mixed groups of munching ponies. He hadn't even bothered to get any food. He simply sat and stared off at the Pearl Peaks as the gentlest breezes moved past, lightly tickling his hair and clothes.

Twilight sighed. After a moment of thought she loosely said, "I don't know."

"Well, maybe we should talk to him now?" Rainbow Dash offered genuinely.

The unicorn thought and sighed again. "No. No, not now," she lamented.

"You really think it's a good idea to wait?" Applejack wondered. "Waitin' seems like all he's been doing. I been hoping he would get up and do something on his own, and he did back before by coming with us and then in the forest and all, but now that's through and here we are again already," she said sorely, a little disappointed. "I'm beginning to think nothing's gonna happen that ain't our doing."

"Maybe. But I think his apathy is something more than that...," Twilight worried. She studied the man once more and then wearily suggested, "We're all still a little run-down from yesterday. It might be best if we give everypony time to recover."

"Then again," Rainbow Dash thought aloud, "maybe that's exactly why we should do something right now? Maybe he'll be too tired to be so... defensive about stuff." Then suddenly slightly wary, the pegasus pulled back a bit and added, "Though, you were right about waiting for the right moment to act with the Dryponies..."

Applejack hummed uncertainly. "That's a mite different. All this craziness here might never have gotten as far as it did if'n somepony stepped up to do something 'bout it sooner. Like, years and years ago, if any Drypony worked up the gumption to actually talk to these nice townsfolk."

"Again, maybe," Twilight warned, "but I just don't know if we'd only push things in the wrong direction. I don't want to make things worse..."

"That's always the risk, though," Applejack sympathetically contended.

"I know that," the unicorn sadly agreed. "I... I just don't know... Not now, please?"

"Better that we try to at least do something, I think," the farm pony mused.

"I want to try. We will do something," Twilight promised them. "Just... not right now."

Rainbow Dash took her friend's pleas in and then nodded her head timidly. "Okay," she agreed after a thoughtful delay. "So... in the meantime...?"

"Oh, I'm not saying you need to avoid him or anything," Twilight frantically clarified, "just... don't try to... approach certain things... if you talk with him. Just... try to..."

"... Be a pal?" the rainbow pegasus proposed as a finish.

"Yeah... I guess that works. Maybe that's even a smart thing to do," the unicorn said. "Just to ease him along. Maybe he does have to be confronted in some way but I'm getting less and less convinced that descending on him all together is a good idea." To make sure they understood that she wasn't regressing, she swore, "I promise I'll keep you girls involved."

Her two friends looked at her, at him, and at each other before they sighed with a blurred mix of acceptance and concession.

"If that's what you think is best, Twilight, sure," Applejack yielded with trust.

The three friends reaffirmed their faith in each other and then the farm pony and the pegasus were on their way, off to try some more treats from the grand feast.

Twilight peeked at James another time, still sitting lonely and silent on the stump. She wondered to herself, "What's best...? I just don't know... I think... maybe... there isn't a correct answer?"

She was about to turn away herself when her attention was drawn to a little filly blitzing across the field.

Poppy dodged between ponies, skid around spreads, and whirled through the air over whole packs of snacking equines as she rushed straight towards the stump with the man. All the while she eagerly called for him, "Hey James! Hey! Hey James!"

He instantly picked himself up and shelved whatever tired thoughts were stirring in his head, snapping back into a pleasant mood with a smile. "What? What is it?" he asked as the little filly braked to a stop in front of him.

"I asked her!" Poppy blurted out happily as she bounced in place.

"Asked...?"

"The Princess!"

"Oh. About?"

"You know! Why she misses Prideheart!" the little filly laughed. In her uncontainable excitement she had genuinely thought he was being cutesy and pulling her leg, but he had actually been unable to follow her incredibly sudden, deliriously fast, and undetailed ramblings.

"Oh!" he grinned, leaning in. "So, what did she say?"

The answer wasn't remotely a surprise to him but it was still endearing to see how surprising it seemed to Poppy. "She said she does miss him because he was such a strong and admirable pony, and was her friend!" the little filly burst out in gleeful cheer. Without stopping, she stumbled over herself as she swiftly continued, "Oh! She also said-! She also said that... what she misses most about him-! What she misses MOST... is how almost every weekend he volunteered at schools to help teach little fillies and colts in extracurry-... extracurrack-... in bonus classes!" Poppy's face lit up with wide-eyed awe. "I didn't know that he did that!"

"Well, remember," James stoutly instructed her, "the Princess was his friend all those years ago when he was still around Canterlot. There's probably lots she remembers about him."

It was like he supercharged the small pony with his implied suggestion. "Ah! I've got so much to ask her!" she squealed in delight, springing into the air.

"Better get a move on then!" he encouraged her in good humor.

"Right!" She wound up to blast off back towards Princess Celestia but then froze herself for just a moment. "... Aren't you going to eat something?" she surprisingly asked him.

James responded simply, "Ah, I'm not hungry. Go on. Don't want somepony else to start chatting her up and miss your chance."

Poppy smiled at him and then took off, roaring back across the field nimbly.

The man chuckled to himself before he, like always, turned back inwards, his happy spirit evaporating like drops of water in the desert.

Twilight watched their whole exchange, noting again the elasticity of the man's attitude. She remembered her own many encounters with him and how poorly some of them had turned out. But then she also remembered how he and Rainbow Dash got along in their better times; how they had traded barbs on the train and also in the forest after defeating Broken Oak. That kind of friend wasn't particularly what she needed to be for him... but she didn't need to be his overlord either; his guard whose only association with him was by decree of a Princess.

She suddenly felt encouraged to be a pal.

Coming up behind him and standing next to the stump, she joked, "So, just not hungry or is it that you're too polite to tell the Hamestown ponies that you don't like their food?"

He woke up again, squinted at her strange jest, and shrugged lightly, "Just not hungry."

Twilight stayed silent with a closed smile for several seconds, letting the air clear from her less than stellar opening before she related earnestly, "I think I owe you a ton of thanks for everything that you did yesterday."

"Oh, no, not really," James immediately absolved himself. "Before I was ever a part of the equation Princess Celestia expected you'd be able to handle it... I'm certain now that she was right. The fact that I was here was just coincidence."

"That doesn't mean you didn't help," she gently insisted.

"Not so much," he still resisted. "I mean, despite all my efforts, Willow Wise wouldn't budge at all until you threatened her."

The unicorn seized up, startled. "T-threatened? I didn't- I... I didn't threaten her!"

Realizing his word choice had been somewhat unrefined, he loosely adjusted, "Well... not like that I guess... but I mean, it was still... sort of a 'speak softly and carry a big stick' kind of approach."

"M-maybe, but... I wasn't... I wasn't threatening-" But Twilight stopped her protests when her mind automatically saw the situation from the reverse perspective: what it must have been like for the Dryponies to see their worst enemy blast apart their strongest containment measures and then fling their greatest warrior and a whole contingent of guards into a lake. She could even see Willow Wise's old, gray, shocked eyes now that she thought back to it. "... I guess... maybe... maybe I KIND OF was..." she weakly accepted.

"That wild display of magic is really what she needed to see though," James said to try and abate some of her rising self-doubt. "Something had to break that fantasy she was shielding herself with and I certainly wasn't getting it done."

Twilight stood quiet, letting everything percolate in her head. Then, slow, quiet, and disappointed, she said, "So for all this talk that I've given you before about... violence, and fighting, and the threat of force... I didn't really have much to stand on, huh? Once I was backed into a corner, everything I said, everything I insisted, sort of fell flat."

"Don't beat yourself up over it. It's not like you were wrong when you talked about all that, or for believing in it," he calmly told her. Somewhere buried inside his voice, she could hear that he was actually deeply impressed. "I mean, you still did something really incredible back there: you didn't do what you did until you absolutely had to, then you took the smallest possible step with it and no more, and I think you even made it really clear that you didn't like what you were doing. Maybe there was some force; some violence... but you weren't fighting them. You were protecting something." A horse of a different color... that's not what this world was. It was something more. "All in all, if this were back home, I'd say that you'd be a pretty good person."

The unicorn tilted her head, trying to parse his compliment.

"I mean, 'good' good," James lazily tried to explain, muttering a laugh to himself. "Like, 'has a strong heart,' 'always does the right thing' kind of good... and not that... you'd blend right in amongst people... (though maybe you wouldn't stand out as much as I'd thought...)"

"Oh," Twilight let up. Even with his added explanation his lost thoughts were still a little hard to follow, but she thought that she understood what he was trying to say and appreciated it. "Well in that case," she offered back with a pleasant smirk, "since you stood so completely against taking ANY action that would have resulted in even a single pony getting hurt, Drypony or otherwise, then I'll say that you'd be a pretty good pony."

But the man turned to the side with a small, bitter scowl and a harsh exhale. "I'm not a pony," he mumbled grimly.

She pulled her head back slightly, looking offended. It was obvious that, from whatever place it came from, he had tried to take her compliment in the worst possible way. "You know I didn't mean it like that," she said stoutly.

He breathed quietly, still looking away, before he responded, "... You're right. I'm sorry. I'm just..." He didn't pick up his sentence again.

Concerned for him all over again, Twilight still stuck to what she had told Applejack and Rainbow Dash. She didn't push him any further. For the time being anyway.

After a still minute she deliberately changed the course of the conversation and told him, "So, it looks like everything here is going the right way. Since our assigned task is complete and the Princess has things in hoof now, I expect we'll only stay on for a day or two more and then take the train straight back to Ponyville."

"Okay. Sounds good," he nodded with a plain reply.

His soft agreeability, dipped with an emotionless indifference, didn't really surprise her. Though, in some ways, she had hoped for something more from him. She looked over across the field at Poppy. The jubilant little filly couldn't keep still as she breathlessly fired questions at Princess Celestia, who sat there like a loving and attentive mother, enamored by the filly's enthusiasm. Turning back to James, she asked him specifically, "You wouldn't want to stay just a little longer?"

Caught by her question, he unsurely replied, "Do you want to?"

"I'd certainly like to," Twilight honestly confessed. "And not just to see this through, though I'm sure everything is going to be okay now." She twisted her neck and gazed across the buildings of Hamestown, with the ravenous forest just beyond them. "It's a fascinating place; the crystals and their effects on magic, the community built here at Hamestown, the Dryponies and their culture..." However, she sighed with contented acceptance and followed up, "But I'm sure that Applejack would like to get back to Sweet Apple Acres, and Fluttershy misses her animals, and so on. I can't ask them to stay."

"Yeah," James understood. His voice leaked out weakly, "You all have homes to get back to."

Again Twilight was stung with worry by his barely hidden despair, but she still didn't follow up and she let the comment pass unanswered. Somehow, some way, she and her friends were eventually going to do something about it. Not because he had been placed in her care by Princess Celestia; because he was her friend. She felt ridiculous that she had earlier fallen into her own darkness and had allowed herself to believe that the Princess had been so faithless of her. The Princess couldn't have assigned him to her as merely a test because that would have been so callous to him; the Princess would have chosen her because she believed in her.

Right?

With an odd twist to her words, Twilight suddenly asked the man, "So... you really think Princess Celestia believed we could handle this?" She shook her head and added, "At Hamestown, I mean."

He cocked an eyebrow, unsure of what else she could be referring to. "You basically did handle it," he answered her.

"Well, I just mean... she MUST have known something about all this," Twilight vaguely complained. "She was there when Wryzard attacked Canterlot and wounded Prideheart. She was there when Prideheart left. But... she didn't tell us anything about it even though she must have known..."

James thought for a moment, still not in agreement with the Princess's silence but less bothered by it than before. He gestured out over the mingled crowd of ponies. At any given picnic blanket a pony could be found who had a Prideheart mark on their eye, peacefully eating their lunch together with Hamestown ponies. He shrugged, "Looks like she didn't need to tell you anything, in the end."

"Oh... I guess...," the unicorn murmured in doubt, "... but... I don't understand why. She had to have known about the Dryponies for hundreds of years, but it never came up? Nopony else ever learned the full story of the statue in the Canterlot gardens? Has she never tried to do anything about it in all this time?"

They were questions that had occurred to James plenty of times as well. But his head filled with thoughts of his father instead. The long years of an imperfect relationship that had still been backed by love even if it had been stained with feelings of unreliability. Backed by unquestionable love. As curious as he was to know Princess Celestia's reasons and feelings, there was a part of him that remorselessly felt like they weren't important. They were questions HE didn't need to ask the royal pony.

Leaning down in his stump seat, he stared out at the mountains again. "If she could make perfect decisions every time, she would, you know?" he said simply. "She's just a pony after all. Maybe she's just doing the best she can."

Twilight didn't have the words to respond with, and she took her own lengthy gaze at the craggy, snow-topped mountains.

As the long silence passed, the unicorn felt herself grow heavier with thoughts to work through. "Well," she said to the man, "I just want to say thank you anyway."

This time he didn't fight. "You're welcome," he quietly acknowledged.

She stood a moment longer before she turned and began to walk away.

"Thank you," he suddenly said back to her.

"... You're welcome," she returned with a small, satisfied smile before she moved on.

James sighed, falling back into his noiseless, lonely rhythm.

After a few minutes he found himself stirred again when a chipper and familiar voice called out to him, "Hey James!"

Whatever it was about her, it was completely irresistible. Sitting and perking up, he chuckled as Poppy returned and slid to a stop in front of him once more. He asked her playfully, "Back so soon?"

"The Princess is SOOOO amazing!" the little filly ecstatically reported. "And she's so NICE!"

"Hehe, she probably feels the same way about you," the man responded.

Poppy flashed a broad smile, but only for a moment. As she looked at James, her wide grin began to shrink bit by bit, sensing something odd about him. She surprised him another time when she asked seriously, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," the man quickly shook off.

The saddened filly continued to stare before she lowered her eyes and, with words that were damp with a morose chill, she said, "You guys came to help these ponies... and now that you're done... are you going to leave?"

Nodding slowly, he answered softly, "Twilight says we'll take the train out tomorrow, or the day after."

Her nose wrinkled, her two bundles of hair drooped, and her eyes moistened. "... Am I going to see you again?" she asked.

It had always been known to him somewhere inside, but he finally acknowledged to himself now that he felt the same way that she did.

"Hey," he said suddenly. Reaching back, he rolled the green scrunchie out of his hair; the same one sprinkled in blue glitter that he had received from the Ponyville Spa. Spreading it around the fingers of his right hand, he showed it to Poppy and told her, "Now, this isn't mine. I've been borrowing it from somepony else and I have to give it back to them eventually." He pushed it towards her. "Why don't you keep it for now?" he offered. "That way, you'll HAVE TO see me again so you can give it back to me." With a knowing wink, he jiggled his hand and encouraged her to take it.

Lighting up and filling with a sense of profound trust, the little filly gleefully accepted and immediately promised to take extra special care of it. She plucked the scrunchie off his hand with her teeth and thought about putting it in her mane before she instead placed her right forehoof through it and double wrapped it so it sat on her leg like a bracelet.

Springing forwards, she threw a hug around his leg. Patting the back of her head fondly, he leaned down and returned the gesture.

Twilight sat on one of the many picnic blankets, down on all fours, with her plate of food long since set aside. There was so much running through her head that the field full of ponies seemed to fade away.

All around her, the great picnic luncheon dragged on and on; longer than it seemingly should have. Many had finished eating but then they had never returned to a more formal dialogue. The dozens and dozens of individual conversations within the mixed crowd had replaced whatever official discussion should have been taking place. The two groups of ponies had found themselves so much more alike than they had ever expected that had been naturally able to lose themselves in neighborly conversation.

When Twilight saw Princess Celestia approaching her, she immediately let go of her deep ruminations, got to her hooves, and bowed her head down respectfully.

The Princess stopped before the unicorn, lowered her own head next to Twilight's, and rubbed the side of her face against her student's neck tenderly. "My faithful student," she whispered with gracious love, "thank you again."

They picked their heads up as the Princess continued proudly, "Once more, the power of friendship that you have so well studied has served to repair a crack in Harmony made long ago. I could not be more proud... or grateful."

Twilight's face flushed with tickles of embarrassment at the praise and she replied humbly, "Just doing what we were asked, Princess Celestia."

"Don't feel bashful," the Princess encouraged with a simple smile. "You and your friends have done more for Equestria, and me personally, than can ever be repaid."

The continued honor didn't help Twilight's reddening face at first, but as the unicorn thought about it all, she steadily shifted from happily flattered to sadly uncomfortable. She matched eyes with her mentor, and the warm and friendly gaze of the Princess invited her to speak her mind.

"Excuse me, Princess Celestia? If... if I may ask...?"

The Princess nodded with approval.

"Why didn't you tell us about the Dryponies before we left?" she questioned ruefully. She wasn't upset but there was still a part of her that felt somewhat hurt and it couldn't be hidden. "Surely... surely you knew that we would find them here? I mean... maybe it turned out to be true that we didn't need the knowledge for whatever reason but couldn't it have only helped us to know that the Dryponies' mistaken detestation of you all came from a terrible accident?"

Princess Celestia fell somber, reflecting a deep, hurt sadness of her own. Most painful of all to her was the wounded light coming from Twilight's eyes. In her refined memory, a voice was summoned up that recited a line that James had told her: "Just be careful. Cause no matter how it turned out in the end, there was a real count of years there that... my actual honest opinion of my father was that I couldn't rely on him for anything."

Hundreds of years and many uneasy choices...

"Accident? Mistake? My faithful student...," she revealed quietly, "... what happened to Prideheart WAS my fault. I made a regrettable mistake."

Something new struck Twilight and her eyes opened wide. "Your fault? I don't understand."

Taking a moment to gather her strength together, the Princess prepared herself for what would be one of the hardest stories she would have to tell in a long time. She stared off into a vivid past and completed the tale for her student: "Some lessons, even when learned, must be refreshed again and again. For a great length of time I worked alongside my sister, Princess Luna, to protect Equestria. When I had to banish her to the moon, I suddenly found myself saddled with my royal duties all alone. Slowly I forgot what it was like to share responsibilities. Slowly I forgot what it was like to rely on others. Slowly I forgot the mistakes that taking everything on by oneself invites.

"I was reminded of the truth from time to time, but at no time was that lesson redelivered to me more harshly than with Prideheart. In those days I was particularly full of a great and foolish pride. So badly I wished to never see a single one of my little ponies hurt that I allowed myself to believe I could protect them all, by myself." She bowed her head in repentant shame.

"When we discovered that Wryzard the Wretched was making his way towards Canterlot, I instructed the Royal Guards to help the citizens take cover and then to remain hidden themselves; I instructed them unambiguously not to engage the dragon. I PROMISED them I would return after retrieving the Elements of Harmony and protect them." No matter how much she had moved past the pain after all these centuries, she still couldn't fully fight the tears as she admitted, "But I couldn't fulfill my promise. I underestimated Wryzard's speed and overestimated my own. The dragon arrived at Canterlot before I was ready.

"Knowing that Canterlot would be destroyed if nopony acted to protect it, Prideheart defied my orders and stood against the dragon, alone. Shielding the city itself with his magic, he absorbed into himself the dark fire that was meant to curse our kingdom. His sacrifice kept the dragon at bay long enough for me to return and banish the beast."

She rested for a few moments, stabilizing herself. Her aura of calm was always strong but it was obvious to Twilight what a fight it was for her to reveal all this truthfully. She continued, "But the wounds Prideheart took, the black curse left in his body, in his very soul, was irreversible. He saved Canterlot, but he paid for it with his own immense suffering. All because of my profound mistake. It is a mistake that didn't need to happen. If I had been wise enough to trust the guards to defend the city together, their combined magic would have been strong enough to stall the dragon without any individual one of them being so greatly exposed to his evil power.

"My faithful student... that is why, since then, I have tried so very hard to remember lessons on sharing responsibility, and of having to hold faith in others. It is why I retain those like your brother Shining Armor for such important responsibilities." She pointed down at the unicorn inclusively, saying "And you also. It is why I trust you to face the challenges that you do. If I were to fall back into trusting only myself again then one day I would fail once more, to the peril of those I want to protect."

"Princess Celestia," Twilight tried to speak. She was utterly flabbergasted. "I... I don't know what to say..."

Growing stronger again after baring her soul, the Princess replied, "It's alright. I have my regrets and I accept them."

The student thought for a moment, trying hard to take in her mentor's failure; trying to understand and accept its reality; trying to reconcile it with everything she knew and believed. "Didn't you talk to Prideheart afterwards?" she asked. "Didn't you apologize to him? Try to get him to stay?"

"Yes, of course I did," Princess Celestia answered wistfully. "I offered him my sincerest apologies. But..." For a moment, she was at a loss for words. There was a terror in her that she didn't want to share. "... It is very hard to describe how hurt he was... Not just the physical pain his body was left in from the poisonous magic that forever became a part of him. Not just the agony from the curse that shattered his horn and his magic. But the feelings of betrayal he was left with from my broken promise..."

"But you didn't mean-" Twilight tried to protect her mentor.

"I didn't mean to, yes. But it was a broken promise nonetheless," Princess Celestia accepted. "I asked him for his forgiveness; for pardon for what I had put him through. But in that time, when his pain was fresh, and new, and strong... he wouldn't hear my requests. Could I have made him hear it?" she asked honestly, shaking her head. "In his anger, he announced his revulsion of Canterlot, of magic itself, and his intentions to leave. After all I had been responsible for, how could I force him to stay? After everything he had been put through, how could I also take away his freedom to choose? Could I have held him there, to spare all that followed? Did I make the right decision to let him go?"

There were no hidden marks of wisdom in her questions. They were open; unanswered; unknown.

"Princess Celestia... I don't know," Twilight replied, troubled.

"My faithful student," the Princess said, "I don't know either. I prayed that my choice was right; that the best I could do for him was to let him go."

"Four hundred years ago...," Twilight whispered to herself. She picked her head up and wondered, "Didn't you ever try to contact him again after he left?"

Again the Princess withheld no honesty and questioned openly, "Should I have? Maybe so. Maybe it was only my shame that prevented me from trying. Maybe it was only my fear which allowed me to believe I could never receive his forgiveness on my own. That I might only hurt him more by trying." Even after four hundred years of having lived with her choices, she wasn't at ease with them. "I abided by his decision for solitude and chose to believe - to HOPE - that one day a pony would come along who could atone for my great mistakes. That this task was not one I could accomplish myself, but could... SHOULD be left to somepony other than me. I try to accept that sometimes I must hold faith in others to accomplish what is important to me; to live with fear for the wellbeing of those I love and trust as they fight on my behalf."

Twilight still hardly knew what to say. She had never perceived that the Princess struggled with such decisions. She had never imagined insecurity as one of her mentor's traits.

But something jumped to her mind; some tidbit picked up from the many short conversations over the morning's journey; something she hoped might help soothe the Princess's own spiritual injuries, even if just a little bit. "James thinks...," she began slowly, "... he thinks that, in time... Prideheart came to regret his decision to leave Canterlot. But that, like you, he was ashamed by the mistake he had made. And in his shame he couldn't confront his own mistake, so he never returned to Canterlot."

Princess Celestia hummed in deep consideration. Finally she asked, "Do you believe he ever forgave me?"

"I don't know, Princess..."

Twilight looked away sadly. But her eyes caught a sight amongst the great crowd of conversing ponies. Poppy was rolling in the grass with laughter, amused at the expense of an embarrassed looking Broken Oak. The mighty stallion's mouth was a battlefield, ravaged with the crumbs of a great number of fallen treats from Hamestown's picnic baskets. He was trying desperately to hide how much he truly enjoyed the food they had prepared; to keep a cold face on his stoic facade. Meanwhile, Willow Wise tried to chastise them both in an authoritative yet careful, grandmotherly way. She was speaking with Mayor Quillby still, and she apologized to him for her two Dryponies' impolite behavior; she was distraught at what terrible guests they were being.

Turning back to Princess Celestia with fresh eyes, Twilight changed her mind and answered, "Actually, you know what? Eventually... he did."

Chapter 22: Melancholy

A dozen simple, round tables sat contained by a low wall, dropped in front of an ice cream shop like sprinkles on a sundae. It was the happiest and brightest little place on the road, especially since the barn-faced buildings on either side seemed to dissolve away into mist the further they stretched out. Much of the friendly cheer came exclusively from the dozens of guests about; at tables, in the street, spaced along the wall; all of whom seemed to be licking away at their perfect frozen treats with strong, unreal smiles. Even the hot and powerful rays of the blazing sun, caught up in an astonishingly blue sky that was unobstructed by even a single puffy cloud, couldn't touch the smooth swirls of every delicious looking cone.

A man walked out of the storefront carrying two spiraled cones of the softest served ice cream ever conceived. Dressed in summer shorts and a plain t-shirt with a pair of sunglasses to fight the day's brilliance, he maneuvered past the crowd of other patrons, careful not to spill a drop of his unmelting prize. He brought his extra cone to one of the tables and charmingly placed it before a beautiful young woman who was leaned back in her chair with a smile, fighting the heat in a low-cut shirt whose straps clung tight over her red and crisp shoulders.

All about the tables and the wall, distantly familiar men and women laughed and chatted as they endlessly licked their unshrinking snacks. They weren't the only guests though... apparently? Ponies joined the laughter and frivolity with cones and bowls of their own. Their bright coats and manes were great matches from the colorful summer wear of all the people around them. It really was such an ordinary, unseasonably summer scene; an ordinary, absurd scene.

James' eyes never settled on anybody for long. He had a hard time even picking himself up in his chair, let alone holding his eyes on level. The spike that felt wedged in his brain was giving him the most splitting headache and it throbbed painfully, like some pony was hammering away on it with their hooves in a regular, wicked rhythm. An untouched, familiar cone of chocolate ice cream was perched on the table in front of him and he longed to reach out and grab it, hoping that its perfect coldness could fight the torn sensation in his head. But while every person and pony about him could wave their hands and hooves in wild and broad gestures, his were as frozen as the treat before him.

"Don't get much better than this, I reckon," Applejack suddenly crooned.

She was across the table from him, with her hat set aside and a bowl before her filled with some variety of pink, berry ice cream seasoned with oats. Like every last drop of ice cream in the court, hers seemed to be untouched despite all the clear indications that she had been snacking away at it. Was she even sitting there a moment ago?

Headache... headache...

"Try some, Beanstalk!" she generously invited, flush with a homely warmth. "Might help you deal with all this summer sun!"

"It's... it's autumn...," James tried to insist, distraught.

It was supposed to be anyway. All this hot air burned. It was boiling. He could feel the sweat pooling into whatever heavy clothes he was wearing. And there was some kind of weight dangling from his leg, growing heavier.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"Don't usually see a crowd like this here!" Applejack whistled, impressed. She took in the sun for a moment, twisting her neck back and forth and swinging her blond mane about.

"Where are we?" he asked again, almost angry. The raw, grinding noise that moaned inside his aching head spilled into his voice, flavoring it with an aggressive darkness.

Not that the serene pony had seemed to notice. "Come on, now! Ya've hardly touched yours! Sweet of you to invite me for a dish and all but it ain't right if I'm the only one enjoying myself! Dig in, Beanstalk!"

At last, he felt his trembling hand come up and start to reach out over the table. But he couldn't make it. The icy chocolate cone ahead was just infinitely far away, out of his grasp. So far. And the burning! He was on fire. The ice cream sat still as crystal while he melted in this sun.

Still shaking uncontrollably, his hand came back and felt about his leg, groping for the weight which was still only growing.

"Think maybe there might be a good day to hit Waterblast Park this week?" wondered Applejack.

"I told you... you? I told you...," James hissed lowly, "it's closed."

At last his hand dropped onto the heavy weight. The familiar, heavy weight. Trim and conformed snuggly to his strong grip, it was the handle of his tactical knife. It was ice cold. So refreshingly cold. He squeezed it tightly. The chill it gave off ran up his arm.

"No need to be all grouchy about it!" the farm pony laughed brightly, untaken by any offense. "Though, that's a real dang shame about it. Great place. Lots of memories, am I right?"

"Yeah," James responded, intentionally distracting. He couldn't pry his hand off the grip of his knife. He didn't... he didn't really want to. Slowly he drew it out, holding it below the table. The racing cold spread further through him, relaxing him, refreshing him. Freeing him.

"You remember that time, 'bout when you were eleven I think," Applejack prattled on, "that you got there with your folks all excited and everything, but when you went in they had shut down the wave pool? All the people what worked there said there was some mechanical doohickey on the fritz but all the other children were whispering some rumor that a kid had DIED in the pool!" She chuckled to herself sprightly. "Silly li'l fillies... always like a contest with them. Have to see who can spin the craziest tale, right?"

Again, James was false and distracting as he replied, "Yeah... crazy."

He brought his free hand up and laid it on the table, but it was shaking so badly that the whole setup rattled. The table clanked and rumbled noisily from his uncontrollable vibrations. Again, not that Applejack seemed to notice or care. He squeezed the knife's grip so hard he that thought his hand would merge with it, and at last the wave of ice emanating from it soared through the rest of him. Up to his head, blasting away the forgotten headache. Down to his legs, steadying him firmly. And into his other arm, which stopped vibrating immediately. FULL. CONTROL.

He picked up his head completely. "You've got quite a strong neck," he whispered at the farm pony. The biggest veins in her throat popped out at him, pulsing with a rich, warm blood.

"Oh, why thank you!" Applejack graciously accepted with a smile. "I'm always telling Big Mac that if anypony tried to lasso me about it they'd be in for a mess of something unexpected!"

"Oh, you're welcome! You're welcome!" he lied, keeping her going.

He could see it so perfectly. The exact spot the slice would do the most damage. The opening that would spill her blood all over that bowl of ice cream like strawberry syrup.

Everything started to crumble. No shop. No court. No wall. No guests but Applejack. No table but his.

"Hey, hold still," he requested as he started to stand up.

He was hot again.

His sweat was all over his sheets and stained so deeply in the repurposed tablecloth he slept in that it reeked even to him. His hair was so soaked that he thought in his waking confusion that he could have been swimming. He had to sit himself up, if only to shake himself off. Not that any of the vigorous shaking he did tossed the discomfort out of him.

This damn library again. He was sitting on his bed in the darkness of the Ponyville library, failing through yet another night of sleep. The clock on the wall ticked repeatedly, he thought he heard Spike shuffling about in his sheets on the upper level, and a glitter of moonlight streamed in through a high up window, its warm beam missing him completely.

"What the hell..." He put his sweaty palms upon his drenched face and rubbed away. Harder. HARDER. "What the hell, what the hell, what the hell...," he spat quietly.

With a heavy 'fwumph', Twilight dropped the last book upon the stack, jostling the whole table. She double-checked her ultimate tower of tomes to make sure they were in order and then shuffled them away onto a cart with other similar piles, ready to be placed back where they belong. It took a little doing but that handled sorting all the books for today. Being out of town for a few days had thrown some things off schedule for everypony. Sorting returned books was the least she could have done to ease Spike's burden.

Of course, she had plenty of her own return burdens too. As enjoyable as travel and seeing new places was, the havoc it could wreak on all the regular rhythms of life was always so annoying. She wished that time would have stopped back at home while she hadn't been there to experience it. It was going to take so many extra hours to get back on schedule. She quickly tried to review everything in her head. The presentation for the Ponyville Schoolhouse was in four days now? It felt like it should be sometime next week. Did she have any outside obligations for today that she hadn't canceled before she had left? She needed to check if she should stock up on groceries. Oh, she couldn't forget that she had to package up the books she had checked out from the Canterlot library so that she could mail them back before they were overdue. And thinking about books, should she start from the beginning again on the tomes she had been studying before she left, just to refresh her perspective?

So much to do, so much to do. But she'd get it done. And it had been no problem taking the extra trouble to have done some of Spike's work since not only had the little guy earned it but it had given her time to think anyway.

For a good portion of the train ride back to Ponyville she had been processing what had happened at Hamestown with the Dryponies. The meeting between the two long estranged sides had gone off without a hitch. By the second day of reconciliation, more Dryponies from Heartwood had come out to see Hamestown and the frontiersponies had started to draw up adjustments to their plans in order to figure out how to account for the Dryponies' existence. And all the while Princess Celestia had spoken to ponies one and all about the great hero Prideheart, finally being able to let free the painful tale that she had held close to her heart for centuries. With the future of Equestria beyond the Pearl Peaks looking quite bright, and with a bounty of fond farewells, the unicorn and her friends had departed for home.

On the ride back she had pulled out a quill and parchment. She had felt like there must have been something for her to have written down about the whole experience. There almost certainly had been. But it hadn't come to her immediately and she had left it be while she had mentally worked through the whole trip.

It wasn't like there had been much to do on the train anyway. Everypony had seemed to be in a similar position of letting the experience sink in; they had all chosen to take the time to rest after their ordeal. Plenty of naps from Rainbow Dash, quiet afternoon teas for Fluttershy, James... had been in his room a lot... and so forth. The train ride back had been far quieter than the ride there. She had been so sure that, if nothing came to her on the train, she would have been able to write a grand report to Princess Celestia once they had gotten back. But whether it was the exhaustion of travel or just the fact that she had talked to the Princess so recently, even when they had arrived in Ponyville last night she hadn't felt compelled to write anything and subsequently had gone to bed with the page still blank.

Now that quill and parchment sat on a table off to the side, still ready to be used. And it still didn't feel like there was anything to write. Something was missing.

Since it couldn't be helped, she left it alone some more and went to get something to eat.

Only, as she passed through the main chamber to get to the kitchen, she spotted James. He was sitting on the floor with his back to the wall. The sunlight danced into the room from a window that sat embedded over his head, the gleaming light drifting over him and striking him only in shadowed reflection. Two of Twilight's loaned books were on the floor next to him, mostly discarded, and the third sat in his cross-legged lap opened to some page or another. The unicorn doubted he even recognized what page he was on; by the way his head was hung it seemed like his eyes were passing right through the book.

He was so thoroughly drained.

She bit her lip. Was now the time to approach him? Was she right to have left him be before? Was Princess Celestia right; it wasn't within her power to deal with this and her efforts would be better spent finding somepony else who could, lest she try herself and only wind up increasing his agony?

"Hey," she finally greeted pleasantly, stepping a little closer but mindfully keeping some distance.

James shivered and looked up for a fleeting moment before eventually responding, "... Hey."

"I'm going to be honest with you," Twilight said gently, "you do not look good."

"I'm fine," came his predictable reply. He shifted up where he sat and repositioned the book in his lap, trying to look busy. But still it was obvious that the words on the pages were melting away from his eyes and he was staring into nothing.

"You always are," the unicorn lightly let up with a tiny, saddened shrug.

"Yeah... that's right," he said, slightly confused. "I always am."

For several long moments the dust idly drifted about in the beam of light that spilled in through the window.

"But you're obviously not," worried Twilight. The distress she carried revealed itself fully through her face and voice, like the paced drawing of a curtain. She still didn't approach any closer to him, fearful of intimidating him like before, but she earnestly wished and desperately prayed that the sincere concern that flooded out of her wasn't sweeping straight over him like the light from the window was.

For a long while she was left standing there. He didn't look up; he didn't look at his book; he didn't look at anything. It couldn't be read if the painful silence that engulfed him was consideration, or surrender, or bleak and utter despondency.

At last, hoarse in voice and incredibly softly, he hinted, "... Just some stupid dreams."

Twilight wanted to leap at the small opening he had given but she immediately chastised her brain to not get ahead of itself. She may have been direly wishing for progress but such hasty exploitation of the only meaningful opportunity she had gotten so far was exactly the way to crush her chances without accomplishing anything. Instead, she carefully offered, "Want to talk about it?"

"No," he merely answered, dark and heavy.

Well, poop. But no, she had still been right. Any reckless forcing of the matter by her would have just made it turn out like before; perhaps he would have stormed out again. It was supremely discouraging though, battling him and all his despair on one front while at the same time fighting with her own frustration and sympathy on the other.

Trying not to let her more negative feelings control the sound of her words, she confronted him, "Look... this isn't a complaint (or at least not completely one,) but just the raw truth: I can't help you if you don't want to be helped. No matter how much I try, I won't be able to do anything if you don't decide for yourself that you want to get better. Ultimately, there isn't any real point in me trying at all if you're not going to work with me." A sigh forced its way out of her and she used the moment to double-check herself. Steady and in control, she insisted, "But I do WANT to try... because I do care. And... if I can't convince you to want help, then... I can stay away..." Her head lowered far down, both sad and humble. "Maybe... maybe that is the best possible thing I can even do for you. But, understand... PLEASE understand... that when I told you before that I HAVE to care, I really meant it. I can't NOT care. I can't. That's not going to change even if I have to stay away and do nothing."

Again the air froze about him, like at any moment he was about to be encased in ice and become unreachable. Even James' breath was a little frigid when he finally spoke, "Just... not sleeping well, is all. Crazy, pointless dreams keeping me up. It's nothing; stop worrying."

"It really seems like it's more than that to me. After all, it can't be 'pointless' if it's enough to keep you up," Twilight pressed delicately. But even with the extreme softness of her pressure, she quickly felt terrified that she had stepped over the line and hastily invited, "But- but do go on. Dreams about what?"

"Nothing. It's stupid," he tried to insist.

"Well, what do you usually dream about then?" she innocently asked instead.

"Nothing," he repeated, more strained. On a tired whim, he elaborated, "Just... random memories... random people and places and scenarios arranged randomly... it's always senseless and meaningless."

"So... something's different then? It's not so random anymore?" guessed Twilight.

James shuffled uncomfortably. He was partly angry, feeling like she had tricked some information out of him that he hadn't wanted to give up but also recognizing how freely he had surrendered it. He sealed himself up and grimly hissed, "No. It's still just as pointless."

"But it MUST be different somehow if it's bothering you like this now and it never did before," the wary unicorn continued to push with attempted fragile precision. "Or maybe it's not something different with your dreams but something different about you?" She could see what little willingness he had to cooperate evaporate with each word she put out, and as she went along it was like every one of her own words were dipped in that much more sympathetic outreach. Before it became too late, she tried asking again, "What are you dreaming about?"

"Nothing," he said yet again, hard and removed. But this time in his voice there had been slightly less insistence and slightly more... pleading? As if disturbed by his own answer, he rambled on, "I'm just... off my game. I've been thrown for a loop and am still adjusting is all... or it's probably some... latent PTSD or something. It doesn't... it doesn't matter."

Twilight brought a leg over her mouth and nose for a brief moment to hold in a snort. She wasn't sure why she felt like she was going to, and she wriggled with guilt about even feeling it, but there was something just particularly silly about his disjointed babbling. A colt and his excuses...

When she had herself mostly under control, she spoke as seriously as she could manage, "That sounds kind of like something you should see a doctor about."

"I'm not going to see a doctor!" James nearly shouted, sitting up straighter. He fell back immediately though and cast whispered, dreary words away from the unicorn, "Especially not some magical pony quack who... who probably doesn't understand the first thing about human biology... or psychology..."

"I'm sorry," she truly apologized, "I just mean that... if you're not well and you're not going to see a doctor... then the best you're going to get is us."

"I told you, I'm fine!" he grumbled. He slammed shut the book in his lap, perhaps not quite as hard as he could have, and he almost tossed it aside before he decided to simply plant it haplessly onto the other two. "I'll get over it. I always have."

"I know that's what you believe," Twilight whispered, "and that I, myself, don't believe it. We could go back and forth on that forever. But..." She really pulled herself into his eyes, for at least the few moments that he had them up. "... Don't you think that... you've never really faced something like this before? That whatever you're up against isn't like any time in the past? Maybe whatever it is that you're trying to do won't be enough? Maybe you could-"

"No!" he interrupted, boiling at last. "I'm fine, I don't want to talk about it, thanks."

"Okay," she instantly acknowledged with a dismal nod, taking a few steps back. She hoped that by leaving first he wouldn't have the reason to make his own retreat like before. Backing out, she turned around. But before she went anywhere she looked halfway back to him and began to say aloud, wispy and soft, "Sometimes I think..."

James looked halfway at her too.

"... I think that... if you could only see with my eyes; see what I'm seeing; then you'd get how I feel. Then maybe you'd understand... why I'm worried. Then you'd know that I'm right... but... am I right?" She looked straight on again, away from him. "Then I think that maybe the problem could be that I need to see with your eyes instead? I don't know if I can do that though... I don't know if it's in me."

A despondent sigh flitted out of her. She confessed, "I don't know what to do, James. But I don't want that to mean that I'll do nothing... out of fear or hopelessness or confusion. I WILL do nothing if I really become convinced that that's the best decision I'm capable of... but right now I'm not there yet. Right now I want to try. I want to try my best... and that's all that I can do."

From behind her, his voice came up weak and subdued, "... Why are you even worried about it? Don't be." And then, buried in murky guilt and a dim whisper, "I'm sorry that... that my whatever is bugging you."

A little surprised, Twilight partially turned herself about and glanced at him once more. He still was only halfway staring at her. She warmly responded, "Don't be sorry. I really think that... that you're trying your best too. In some way. I'm just concerned that your best isn't going to be enough, without support or without a change."

He sat unmoved.

Nodding once more, she turned back again and tried to leave him with a final thought, "I feel like I understand you much better than when we first met... That wasn't even a month ago yet, was it, heh? But maybe I really don't understand you ENOUGH... or maybe I can't? Or maybe it doesn't matter at all? It's just... not me that you want to hear things from..."

She suddenly asked, loud, honest, open, and clear, "You know who you should talk to?"

James squinted, full of a hesitant and dubious surprise.

"Applejack." The air rung with a pure, reverberating echo of truth. The man could try all he wanted to believe in shadowy acts of deception but it wouldn't pierce the straight sincerity of the unicorn's thought.

The sunlight coming in through the window shifted a little inwards as the sun moved, striking his knee.

"She's been worried about you just as much as I have," Twilight reasoned unabashedly, "and she's tried to be nothing but patiently supportive. And... she tells it like it is. She won't hold anything back. No matter what you talk with her about; no matter what you ask her, she'll give it back to you straight, exactly as it is. No more; no less. And you understand you can honestly trust that."

"I'm not looking to pester anybody," James hummed in excuse.

"Oh, she won't see it as pestering," she assured him. Then in a bout of mild sadness she added, "I mean... I know I wouldn't. We both care, after all."

She shook her head. With nothing more to add, she finally began to walk away. "If you need anything at all, you can come get me, okay? Take care," she called back to him.

He sat quietly. She was already gone when he inaudibly replied, "Take care..."

"Aw, come on! You ain't sore just cause ya had a few days of extra work?" Applejack asked, slightly smarmy and with a hearty laugh.

"Nnnope," Big Mac dryly replied. He tossed the load of apples off his back and the basket slammed into the ground with a mighty crash. The apples within bobbled about over themselves, luckily not turning into mush from the excess force.

"Can't hide it from me, big brother!" she charmingly accused him as she set down her own load, "I saw the way you were bucking today; getting out some extra frustration and all. I told ya, I wouldn'ta gone if'n it weren't important! Orders of the Princess and all!"

"Eeeeyup," he seemed to agree. Whether his reply had been baked with sincerity or sarcasm was something only his sister could have distinguished.

"Hey, if you're gonna be such a grump about it I don't mind pulling some extra weight for a time you know!" she promised cheerfully. "Really, it might help me get back into the swing of things."

His thoughtful response rolled out slowly, "Mmmnnnope."

"Oh, now you're just being fussy," Applejack laughed. "You go on and take yourself a break and I'll-"

As she looked over the sweeping orchards of their farm to assess how much of her brother's share she would take on, she easily picked out an anomaly. Far out there, just on the other side of the fence, somepony- someBODY was sitting on the ground, their back towards the farm.

"Hold the hay. Hm..." She squeaked back at her sibling with regret, "Looks like you'll have to carry on for now, Big Mac. We've got a visitor and I really think I should go deal with'em." She took off, racing to cross through the orchard, hollering back at him, "I promise I'll make it up to ya!"

"Eeeeyup," the stallion moaned, roughly tapping a nearby basket with his hoof and jostling the load.

Applejack charged through the spacious field of short apple trees, a far cry from the dense jungle out at Hamestown, and in no time she made it to the white fence at the borders of the property. James was sitting on the dirt road just beyond, his back to her, one knee up and the other leg stretched out. A cold silence radiated off of him.

Somewhat in the dark on what this could be about but at least having her own suspicions, she pulled up to the fence, alongside but still behind him, and draped her forelegs over the top bar. "Out and about, Beanstalk?" she greeted down to him.

"Yeah," he idly replied without looking up. He had heard her noisy approach. "Aren't you happy?" he asked, subtly wry.

"Well not when you say it like that!" the farm pony easily countered.

Her straight, unfiltered honestly drew a short, dry laugh out of him. He followed up aimlessly, "Twilight was being- she... I thought it was best that I get out of that place."

"By the way you was waiting, seems more like you wanted to come see me," Applejack took a nearly blind shot.

She knew she had hit something by the way he shook with surprise. However, a dark mood swiftly swung over him and he brutishly snorted, "So I shouldn't have come then, huh?" Planting a hand firmly on the ground, he started to push himself up.

"Sit yourself down!" she commanded, somewhat offended by his attitude.

He obeyed, but hardly out of sense of threat or respect.

"Of course you can come see me," she laid out acutely. "Didn't I give you the Apple family welcome? You can come here anytime you like." She leaned more of her weight onto the fence and precisely asked, "Question is: why are ya here?"

"Does it matter?" James barely retorted.

"No," Applejack replied, plainly and simply. But then she immediately added on in the same tone, "And yes. Any reason and no reason you can find yourself here. But..." Again, with calculated precision, "Today you have a reason. Can't hide that, Beanstalk."

He rested a hand up on his raised knee and didn't respond, looking away.

"Did Twilight send you?" she immediately assumed. He hadn't been to this farm once that wasn't her doing.

"Why is THAT important?" the man responded in an upset snarl.

But the farm pony pushed back with equal force, "It's important cause I'm not gonna pry if it'll hurt her in the end. But, if she's given the okay, well then I'll say whatever I dang well feel like!"

James stiffened up, battered by her frankness. "And if I don't want you to pry?" he asked, strongly emphasizing himself.

"Well then we're not in agreement there," Applejack quipped. Her eyes narrowed at him and her lips curled, and she stated, "You know, it seems to me Beanstalk that a lot of stuff you don't personally want has been happening to ya lately, and I'm afraid that you're only in for more of it before it gets better. Don't like the sound of that I reckon but you're gonna be as stuck as a wagon wheel in deep mud if you don't accept it."

He fell silent, looking away from her.

"Twilight sent you," she said affirmatively.

No response came from the man.

"Thought so," the farm pony mumbled. She gripped the fence and vaulted herself over the long obstruction. Once on the other side, she dropped herself down right next to him and sat staring out at Ponyville just like he was. "You gonna tell me what all this fussing and puffing and trouble is about?" she invited him to share.

Still he was locked up tight, and he only turned his head away some.

"S'alright. I can guess," shrugged Applejack. She deliberately let the air settle into a brittle stillness before she broke it with a sudden, ordinarily spoken, "You're jealous Rainbow got the one up on Broken Oak and you didn't."

"What?!" James rapidly came back in, looking at her with disbelief.

Batting a clever wink at him, she said, "Ahehe, I knew that'd get ya. At least you're listening."

He stared doubtfully at her for a split second, again annoyed at these ponies' sheer... human... ability to defy expectations. He quickly snapped out of it, harumphed, and looked away again.

"Aw, don't go pouting," the farm pony complained in a friendly fashion. "Listen, I'm not making light of your issues, okay? I mean that. But I can only work with what you give me." She corrected her posture as a steady seriousness soared straight into her. "So," she stated directly, "give me something."

She waited patiently for him to respond and it paid off nearly a full minute later when, still not looking at her, he finally conceded enough to ask, "... You ever have strange dreams?"

"Probably," she let up briskly. "Not that I remember, though. Too many orchards to buck come morning."

James blew a puff of hot air, already regretting even the little bit he had surrendered to her. "See?" he said dismally, "You don't understand. So you can't help."

"Listen up, Beanstalk!" the farm pony suddenly shouted with a stamp. She poured out an honest authority, drawing a line in the sand. "I know you've been through something big and terrible, something none of us here can exactly empathize with, something we can't quite understand the way that you do. I ALREADY KNOW THAT." She pointed a hoof at him while she leered. "But! BUT! If you act one more time like that means we can't or shouldn't care about you, or that there's nothing we can do, or that it isn't worth doing anything over and you have the right to just drag your hooves on and on and on and on, or any of that dim-headed malarkey, then I swear I'll get a lasso, hogtie you up, and drag you through so much dirt Rarity is going to cry when she sees what's happened to her precious outfit."

The man turned to her, stunned; caught completely off guard by the dressing down he was receiving. For all the encounters he had seen so far of Applejack, he knew that she certainly was a straight shooter but he also felt that she was always POLITE. But- No... wait... There had been that whole encounter with Gadget, where she had been really pushed into a foul attitude. She had never turned to utilizing... real, hostile rudeness, but her manners had indeed begun to wear thin. It had been a strange sight to see two ponies fighting with passion. Grumpy passion, maybe, but still passion. And, especially after the Drypony ordeal, he should have known by now that ponies were capable of the most serious depths of feelings.

It was hardly necessary for her to be so grouchy to him though. It was like with Gadget again: Applejack had some justified grief against the repairpony but she had also still been partially in the wrong. Of course, the repairpony had invited some of the farmpony's anger too... and even when she had been so agitated she had also been so unfailingly honest... Gadget had been... actually doing something wrong... in order to draw her force out... just like now... he...

Applejack hardly took a break as she continued on, "Now, sorry if that's a little rough but I've been waiting and waiting for you to do right and get back on your hooves, but I'm just not seeing it happening! Even when we go through some craziness out in the woods where you liven up and do some real good, once we're out of there POW everything goes back to the same old sittin' on your rump and feelin' sorry for yourself. And it's only been weeks of the same ridiculous silliness is what I hear from Twilight." Her own mention of the unicorn's name reminded her. Her ire sharpened, her power held back just a little less, and she carried on, "Oh and speaking of, I especially turned around on the matter of my patience when I saw what your doggone pigheaded pity party was all doing to poor Twilight!"

Something about what she said cut into James. The force of her truth pierced the great shroud of misery, self-deception, and escape that had been fogging his mind. It was like, for a brief instant, he could see with a different pair of eyes. And what he saw was a unicorn buried under weights of friendship and worry.

"She's been in bad, worried for ya!" the farm pony didn't slow down. "Not the least of which is from being told to care for ya by the Princess, AND the most of which is on account of her being an amazing friend. Now, she knows you the best of all of us and for whatever reason she REALLY believes in you. And I mean that like true. I can tell that, and I'll take that for what it's worth, but now I think it's about time that I see some evidence for why myself." She stood up, tall and determined, and whirled towards him while he still stared helplessly back at her. "So," she demanded, "are you going to take a good, long, hard, honest look at yourself and figure yourself out; give me something to know what's really going on in there? Or am I going to have to dig it out of you? Cause I mean it when I say I care, Beanstalk, but that includes caring about Twilight. And what happens to you, happens to her. So, spill."

She bore her eyes into him, a heavy and down-turned frown on her face.

As James stared back, shivering, he slowly drew he other leg up. He clutched his arms around his raised knees and then buried his face in them. He sat like that under her unmoving gaze for several seconds before, through a beginning flow of tears, he murmured, "I don't understand anything that's been happening..."

Chapter 23: Truth

He wept. It was soft, particularly because his sorrow was pressed against the pants Rarity had designed and their comforting cushion absorbed the worst of what he gave. But James wept all the same. His body surrendered to rapid shudders and his lungs released short, gasped breaths and painful, tortured whimpers.

Applejack's mouth dipped sadly. She didn't regret having confronted him with the truth. It was probably the only way it could have gone in the end and it certainly was the only way she could have honestly acted, but that didn't make it any less of a reprehensible-feeling thing. Even when she truthfully told herself that he was only facing feelings that he had simply been keeping hidden, she recognized that she was the one who had drawn them out; the one who had forced him to feel these painful things that now dragged him down into despair. She didn't feel guilt free. But she had enough homely wisdom to know how necessary this all was. More importantly, seeing him like this served as another reminder to her of something very significant that she had to constantly remind herself of: he was a complicated being that she didn't completely understand.

She still wanted to forget the first time that she had ever saw him, though she doubted she ever would. That primal and fatal violence was frightening and nightmarish. She didn't want such a ghastly evil to be a part of any existence that she, or especially her friends, were a part of. But then later Twilight had come along and claimed that there was more to him than that one terrible item, and her friend's promise had been enough for her to wait for opportunities to see that truth for herself. So she had lent him an honest chance. And in time, slowly a bigger picture had indeed come into focus. She had personally always accepted that there would be dark spots with him, given that first terrible experience; unknown and shadowed things that she wanted to leave as dark spots even. But then there were experiences like the Drypony encounter, and things like this. Events that had showed her that there were parts of him that were the same as anypony else. Concerned and noble, caring and cautious, soft and frightened.

Most importantly, this showed her that Twilight had been right about him.

With an easy yet tired sigh she shifted into a more sympathetic attitude and sat back down, placing herself a little bit closer to the man than before and facing away from the farm again. She pushed her worn hat off her head and set it down on the dusty road before she looked at the man with her lips pulled back and her cheeks pushed out in a glum, uncertain expression.

"That certainly sounds pretty bad, doesn't it?" the farm pony gently opened. "Feelin' completely gone and lost like that. But imagine how much worse it would be if... if that were the case and ya never would believe it."

James seemed unchanged by her remark, still only crying quietly to himself.

But Applejack had faith that he was at least listening to her, as he had proven before when he had appeared so disaffected. She said with a warm confidence, "I don't think it's as bad as you say, though. Maybe it feels like that to you... just confusion and emptiness... but it's really... it's really more like you're just... stuck in a thorny patch of grass, taking all those cuts. You weren't doing yourself any favors by ignoring it so much. You really needed to wake up to it, Beanstalk. You really did."

His voice came out raspy from his tears and fuzzy from being forced through his blocking legs, and he said discordantly, "Everything's gone... everyone... they're all..." He wheezed a few times.

"I know...," the farm pony nodded consolingly. "I figured that's a lot of what it came down to. That all your... bad... inside probably came from that. Dunno why it never really seemed to occur to some of us... but... well... I dunno. Anyway, that's what I always felt would be the trouble." She tossed her caring, green eyes at him, a man still so balled up and frightened, and she shared truly, "I'm sorry for ya... I really am."

"You don't-" James tried to say, his face still stuffed in his legs as he practically choked on his emotions. "You don't... under- understand..."

"Oh hush. Hush now, Beanstalk." Her words weren't the hard commands that had come out of her before. They were the words of the tender friend that supported the ponies closest to her, or perhaps the loving sister that was a pillow of compassion for her younger sibling. "That's another thing you really need to wake up to. I mean it," she told him kindly. "Throw out your thinkin' that we're outside of this. Yeah, maybe I can't understand exactly what it feels like, but that don't mean I can't touch it. You think I don't care everything 'bout my folks?" she asked rhetorically. "Don't love my friends to pieces? I haven't lost them but I can still imagine the- I REALLY don't want to, understand - but I CAN still imagine the fringes of that nightmare."

James finally pulled his face up, red as it was from being pressed into his legs and with tears smeared all over it. Dribblings of snot had built up under his nose and he wiped the area clean with his sleeve while a sore sucking sound pulled the rest of the mucus back in. He waved his soiled arm about, already disgusted with himself for what he had done to Rarity's nice clothes. With a still unbalanced voice that was constantly interrupted by spontaneous gasps, he said, "It's more- it's more than... than that."

"Sure," Applejack immediately and fully accepted. "I'm sure that with everything taken out from under you... you don't feel grounded anymore, maybe? Hm..." She fell deep into some personal thought, prying open the lid on a level of understanding that she had always known but had never looked into.

"You know," she came back up with a bit of surprise, "I can kind of understand that a little better than the rest, actually."

Though he still sat facing forward, sniffling ever more, the man shifted his eyes curiously towards the pony.

"Long time ago," she began, seeing the vision of Ponyville before her fade into its past form and feeling her beloved farm diminish behind her, "when I was just a filly, I thought I had get away from this place. Thought this farm was just some dead end hole in the ground; didn't care none for its apples or its history. I thought I had to go out there into Equestria and find something for myself. Find myself, maybe even." She shook her head, amused and embarrassed all at once, in the same way most feel when scrutinizing their old decisions.

"So... I left Sweet Apple Acres here behind and headed for the big city. Manehatten. Can't tell you how excited I was to see it on the horizon at first. The city what never sleeps. The Grand Apple! I got extended family there you see, and I thought for sure that such an exciting place would help me find exactly what I needed." Even as she spoke of it, her eyes recalled all the sparkling enthusiasm they had once held long ago. The tall buildings, the wondrous spires, the streets clustered with bustling ponies; her emerald gems were a window to them all. But slowly there was a shift; a fading of glory. "I was kind of right, in a way," she admitted dimly but not unhappily, "cause I did find what I needed."

A true sadness wormed its way into her and, with unrestrained and sincere empathy, it all came pouring out firmly, "Let me tell you, Beanstalk... after I was there for a time... never in my whole life, before or since, have I EVER felt so out of place and homesick. I realized there just how much home truly meant to me. I realized what a terrible mistake I had made. I realized who I was supposed to be. And I raced right back home, where I belonged."

She let her tale sit for a time, taking it in again for herself and feeling refreshed and strengthened by it. Just by reminding herself of it she had placed herself somewhere that she could feel more closely connected to James and his plight. She hoped that he saw it the same way.

But she knew that it was worse for him. For her, the option had been there to retreat home; to undo it all. So much of his troubles were compounded by not having that choice... and by not even having had made the decision to leave his home for himself, too.

Rubbing his face clean another time, and with a few lesser tears still, the man finally snorted with a small, pensive, and unexpected laugh, "Long time ago, huh?"

Applejack chuckled, throwing out her hoof in playful understanding of his intentionally wrong takeaway, and she said, "Yeah, well... long enough for me. I'm not going to date myself for ya."

She took a second to enjoy the brief respite, happy to see him at least somewhat stabilized. But once the moment had passed she reverted into caring seriousness again and added, "What I was trying to say with all that was... maybe I can't see what exactly you're seeing, but I'm not blind to it. And honestly it's been kind of insultin' that you act like I am."

James brought his arms back around his knees again but didn't bury his face in them this time. Tired and still wounded, he offered earnestly, "I'm sorry..."

"Nah, no worries about it, you understand?" she assuaged him, her personality buoyed with a soothing solace. "What matters now is what we're gonna do about it."

With an almost begging desperation he asked, "What do I do?"

"I don't rightly know, Beanstalk," replied Applejack with an uncomfortable grimace. "I don't think anypony can give you a straight answer on that one."

The man pushed out some spit with an exasperated breath. Dark, bitter, and with injured sarcasm he complained through his throaty sniffs, "Oh of course not. Magic spells, and controlling the weather, and cities that float in the skies, and Princesses that raise and set THE SUN... but a magical cure for sadness? Oh no, don't be stupid. That's a bridge too far!" He coughed and choked a little as he fought to keep his emotions from running amok again.

"Hey, come on now," the farm tried to balance him out, "it's the honest truth. And really, as much as you might not want to hear it right now, that's the way it ought to be. Your feelings are so much more important than some silly old magic. They're not going to mean much if you could just turn'em on and off like a light, yeah?"

She was at least right in that he didn't want to hear it. One of his snorts came out angry. Of course these ponies would make him try to confront this and then offer him no immediate solutions. Somewhere inside he understood he was being unreasonable and harsh about it all, but it still burned. He gripped his own folded arms as one of his small shivers erupted into a furious quake. For a fiery moment he was angry, but not completely at her. At just about everything else in this world.

The farm pony attempted to helpfully add, "You got to stop sitting around, take what strength you got, get up, and find a way to go forward."

The man slowly settled down, pulling his legs in slightly and tightening up a bit. His voice came up again, weak and fearful, "Everything I knew disappeared all at once... everything except me..." A great, final gong of despair rung from some bell deep within him. "... I should be dead..."

It brought a sliver of Applejack's righteous fury back and she contended, "Woah now, don't go saying things like that!"

"... But there's nothing...," he still droned on. A record who couldn't get over his own breaking.

"You're just making yourself believe senseless things again!" the orange pony insisted with small sparks of fire. "It's just NOT TRUE, Beanstalk! There are already things for ya here. Now sure, that's not what you feel you want I bet; you want those old things back! So, cold comfort, I know! But it'd still be wrong to ignore'em. Haven't you already seen'em yet? I know I have! Heck, I could probably rattle off a dozen examples in the blink of an eye!"

He squeezed himself up even more tightly, wound with impossible tension, but he at least held his mouth back this time. With his whimpers contained, he listened.

Seeing this, Applejack rolled her eyes up at the sky and set about listing whatever came to her head: "Twilight just finds you to be one of the most fascinating ponies to talk to; I seen the way she just gets sucked into it. Fluttershy's really got a soft spot for ya; there's some side'a you that she's really in touch with. Probably in no small part due to that little squirrelly friend of hers what was really touched by how ya cared for him. And now after making all that fuss even Rainbow's really starting to warm up; I recognized the way she's been acting lately; reminds me of how me and her get along."

And it was true. One by one her friends had been discovering something pony-like in him. Something within him that could connect them despite any other conflicts they might have had with him. There was a mildly selfish part of Applejack that wanted that for herself too. She had SEEN things in him that could lead there but she had never felt connected to him. Or at least, not yet...

"Here's the one that really sticks out in my mind," she continued, slowing down. She leaned towards him closely enough that she didn't have to put any strength into her voice to emphatically relate, "That little Drypony filly. Don't think I didn't see how you lit up when she was around. That was some real tender love and care for a real sweetheart who I think made quite an impression on you. And that's not 'nothing.' Nopony who can feel something like that has 'nothing.'"

James had maintained his quiet and broken demeanor through the mentions of the others; his pitiful and selfish side had wished to ignore the reality of anything meaningful that had been built up with them. Rational or not, he feared the risk inherent in learning to care about some things in Equestria... he feared that maybe he would forget how to care about some things from the past. But one particular recent experience had risen above everything else; had gone beyond his ability to fully deny. At the farm pony's very first hints of Poppy, the tiniest, yet still sad, smile managed to slip into his expression. For a brief moment he brought his finger behind his head and tickled the tail of his hair, now bound up again with only a simple rubber rand.

The happiness faded fast though, suppressed under a terrorizing doubt and a staggeringly stubborn lonesomeness. "She's just- she's just a young, silly-" he tried to rationalize away.

"Don't go making excuses, Beanstalk!" In her frustrated anger she had to stand up again. She turned and knocked on his side lightly but sternly with the back of her hoof. "How much would it hurt her if that little one heard that? That all she worth to you? Ya minimize her feelings like that? You gonna minimize my friends' feelings too?" She staggered for a moment before she deliberately corrected, "OUR friends? My feelings? All of us... they're real feelings, you know."

Applejack turned a hoof in and pointed it straight at her heart. "I really do feel for ya," she said deeply. "Sympathy for your troubles, and friendship cause I guess I've seen enough that despite everything you're still a stand-up guy." Then, with a trusting tone and with open solidarity, "But I want to feel that friendship coming back at me. And that little filly proved it was there. No matter what you're feeling that's making you so lost and scared... all the good things are still there inside you. You're just having a hard time letting'em out on your own right now. Don't go running away from it any more."

Silence gripped the scene again as the farm pony waited for a response and James held himself still except for the occasional jitter, spasm, or low gasp. For a brief time things seemed to settle, but then they delicately, delicately started to slip. The small convulsions in him grew worse again, he heaved and spattered his breaths, and his head dipped lower to hide the fresh flow of tears.

"Everything that- everything that I've cared about, that... that meant anything... that held- held me up and supported me... it's all gone," he wheezed. "I don't- I don't know... how to deal with it... How can I... how..."

"Like I said, nopony has the answer. But we're all here to do whatever we can," Applejack reemphasized. She took a few steps forwards, away from him, and sweep her hoof across the open view of Ponyville as she said, "Everything I recommended to ya earlier I still hold to: get out some, take a look about town, get involved in things. Do something to keep living!" She returned to his side and sat down once more, this time so close that she rubbed up against him. "You keep up with the hiding and running away instead and then it's... it's no different from them Dryponies in the forest just waiting forever for the end to come."

But he bitterly scoffed at her advice, unable to see how it was a way forward. It wasn't an illuminated path into a safe future. It didn't touch all the pain that was running through his blood like a poison. "Keep living... keep... like... nothing ever happened?" He coughed with dead sarcasm, "So, just keep ignoring everything I feel?"

"No, no, no, Beanstalk. Come on," the pony pleasantly pleaded. She brought one of her legs around his shoulder with a soft, protective love. "That's not what it is. Understand that... bouncing back from something so... so... crippling isn't a sudden thing. It's not... facing down some big dragon and coming out top at the end of the day, no. But it's also not sitting about doing absolutely nothing cause then you're just gonna waste away. Then you're never gonna move on."

She rubbed him gently as her eyes dropped to the road and darted back and forth in a search of how to continue. The compacted dust wasn't the most inspirational sight. But the cool air of the afternoon carried the sweet smell of apples down from the orchard behind them and suddenly she picked up, "It's like... it's like if... you're out in the orchards bucking apples and... ya pull a muscle or you hurt your leg somehow. Sure, you're gonna be off it for a few days. And you'll only hurt it more if you go out there right away and try to buck with full force again. But it doesn't just heal back to full strength from sitting on it neither." She adjusted the leg she had around him, snuggly securing her grip, and then she leaned into him a little. Tenderly, she whispered, "There comes a time when you've got to start slowly working it like normal, but more bit by bit, step and step, working your way back up. You know, to warm the strength back up. You ease into it, start putting in more and more, and soon it's stronger than before! Same thing with living, Beanstalk. If you don't exercise it back into shape then it's never gonna get there.

"Now, I know you don't got the old things in your life anymore," she wistfully related with homegrown wisdom, "so you'll HAVE to put some new things in as part of healing; as part of carrying on."

James listened to her tale intently, his unmoved eyes locked on the foreign village in front of him. There was a deep wish inside him that it would be just as easy as she had made it sound. He tried to picture it. He tried so hard to picture moving on. But all his conceptions of life and home; of what it meant to live... they were bound up in only the familiar things that he knew. The cherry red home on a rolling hill with a creaky deck, delightful to sit on in the hot summer days; the busy crowds of people who were active and familiar and most importantly similar, who didn't see him as an ogre or escaped zoo animal; the water park that created its own real magic through the power of fond memories, and glorious laughter, and shared experiences with those that he loved, not some ridiculous and supernatural spells from unicorn horns.

But every time he tried to picture these beautiful old things, every time he tried to imagine recreating what was so critical and immortal about them, every time he tried to extract what he needed for meaningful life again from them, his twisted dreams of late came surging back. The old things that were so perfect, that he wished so badly for... they just weren't the same anymore, even in his mind. All the beautiful elements of his remembered life were always being corrupted by this unreal newness. Ponies came charging in through every crack in his mind, breaking past the guarded thresholds, invading the preserved and placid centers of calm that he dearly held on to. And as they swarmed about, their hooves stomped over the last vestiges of pure home; their galloping around thrashed the last untarnished memories of all that was important; that was essential; that was HOME to him before. The foundations of his heart crumbled. No road ahead appeared; only an unknown dark.

"... I... I... I can't..." He started to sob again.

"Course you can!" Applejack rebuffed him, but then she immediately switched to a calmer, more compassionate voice and repeated, "Course you can. I really mean it. It's the same thing as with that little Drypony filly again; the way you acted with her was true. That was YOU." With one hoof still embracing him, she took her other and pressed it into him. "That's really in there. We'll work with ya and hopefully you can start to bring that out on your own; get it back under your control. You'll get better."

But his dreams haunted him. Their implied threat hovered over him dangerously; that he'll never again have a mother, or a sister, or a friend who would come out of the house to join him on the deck for a quiet spell; he'll only have some random pony. He'll never again be on a date in the middle of the busy and familiar crowds of downtown, sharing an ice cream and a laugh within the sweltering heat of summer; he'll only have cones offered by ponies at the ice cream shop that was settled in the middle of their sometimes bizarre houses. He felt taunted. One by one the memories of joyful experiences that were the bedrock of who he was would be shunted out to make way for new, inferior, replacement experiences that were flooded with ponies. Until eventually one day he would be completely alone and naked in the dark, and the only thing he would be able to say to comfort himself would be, "Well... at least I have PONIES."

Or maybe... maybe more horrifyingly... one day he would care about ponies... because he wouldn't care about people anymore...

He fearfully expressed, "I don't want- I don't want to replace what I had... I don't want to forget it all..."

"Nopony said you had to forget nothing," she encouraged him. "You can hold on to whatever you want to! Remember whatever you want to! And... and... and you should! That's part of who you are!" she adamantly declared. However, she released a sorrowful truth afterwards, saying, "But you also got to recognize reality... most of that stuff isn't coming back... I'm sorry..."

She held him still as he shivered, her hug strong and secure. She placidly uttered, "We'll help you figure out how to hold on to all the wonderful things you want to keep. Promise."

In the ears of his mind James heard the echoes of Princess Celestia's wisdom. She had talked about all this; about surviving through infinite losses and continuing ever apace into the future. But... but... she had it down to a science somehow! Centuries of practice! Nowhere, in any blank corner of his imagination, in any lost part of his heart, could he see how such a thing was possible. From nowhere could he understand how being able to so simply move pass the loss didn't represent a destruction of that long-crafted love that was attached to all those that he cared about. Love not so limited a resource? He couldn't perceive it. He couldn't! Not even the superior light of the Princess could reveal to him the way forward.

He rasped, "I don't know how..."

"You can keep asking but, like I been saying, there ain't a true answer," the farm pony reminded him readily. Then she boldly reassured him, "You're just going to have to go forward without knowing how it'll turn out. Just got to try for it. And even though NONE of us know for sure how it'll go or what exactly we should do, we'll help you along in every way we can."

With one last refreshing squeeze, she finally let him go. But she tacked onto her words with a confused change of tone, "Honestly though... I just don't really get how getting started on that is the hardest part FOR YOU."

Surprised by the curiosity in her voice and wondering about the truth of her meaning, he dried his eyes a little and looked at her.

A deep impression emerged out of Applejack; something inspiring, admirable, and memorable that she had witnessed. She told him very respectfully, "You stood before the biggest, meanest, nastiest Drypony that they had, even when he was backed by his crowd, and you really told'em, Beanstalk! You told'em the hard truth straight on about how they had to face something they didn't know. 'Bout how they had to stop ignoring the truth. 'Bout how they had to walk a path they couldn't see." Her head rolled back and forth in honest bewilderment and she said, "I don't get why it's so much harder for you to look at yourself in the mirror and do the same thing."

For once, James finally didn't object or seek to make an excuse. He turned back to himself and looked inwards silently.

They sat together as the minutes slid by. The farm pony waited patiently as the final twinges and gasps of his active sorrow squirmed away, sealed inside him safely once more. He became calm and collected again though his eyes were still red, if dry. His profound sadness still radiated into the air but there was at last some feeling of control.

When it had all settled, Applejack plainly suggested, "You know the pony you should really be enlisting?"

Not completely empty of humor, he responded, "Oh no, don't say it..."

"Twilight." She nodded with a smirk and a shrug.

James sighed, both upset and mildly hostile, and he asked grimly, "Why does she always have the answers?"

Standing back up, the farm pony went and retrieved her hat, smacking it against her legs to throw off the dust. "First off: she doesn't," the blunt mare said with certainty. Flipping her hat back onto her head, she approached the man from the front this time and told him directly, "But she is smart. And good at learnin' and understandin'. She'll need your help to do it, but if you give her the honest chance then I'm positive she can really help you figure things out."

She leaned in, placing a hoof on one of his still raised knees. "Second off," she began, but she suddenly slowed down and one of her eyebrows shot straight up into her hat. "I'm not really sure what your deal with her is?" she wondered openly.

He didn't answer her, dipping his head and eyes down slightly. Applejack got the sense that perhaps he couldn't quite answer her. Maybe he didn't know himself.

"I get that it's hard enough to try and confront all this honestly even for yourself," she stated, "but you especially don't seem to want to work with her. You had enough in ya to talk to me... but not her? Don'tcha know why?"

No reply came from the man.

"Hmm," she hummed in thought. Something bright suddenly started to shine out of her eyes and she announced with a smile, "You know, come to think of it... I get that we all have our own idiosyncra-whatsits and - now you can tell me whether you think I'm on or off the mark here but - maybe you REALLY respect her a lot more than I've been imagining. And that's why? You don't want to saddle her with your baggage... or maybe be something less in her eyes?"

He didn't confirm or deny what she had hypothesized. He couldn't. A small, barely engaged shrug was all he could muster.

That was fine for Applejack; it was just an honest bit of thought that she had needed to get out. "Hey, that's a mighty fine compliment really! And I'd prefer to think of things like that than make worse guesses."

Taking her hoof off of him, she took a few steps back and let out a massive breath. "Well... I think I'm all jabbered out for the moment," she said, somewhat tired in spirit. "I don't know what more to say to ya that'd really be any different. I mean, I'll say the same things again and again if I need to, cause there's some part of you that is just plain refusin' to hear it," then in stern understanding again, "but you got to hear it, Beanstalk. You really got to."

The man was out of words too and he replied with only a weak nod.

"Alright then," Applejack started. But she had no where else to go. Genially, she generally offered, "Want anything? Apple? Apple juice? Apple fritter? You're welcome to stay as long as you like, too."

He sighed and shrugged once more.

With that, she nodded and began to leave. She walked around him and put one hoof up on the top bar of the fence, ready to pull herself over, but stopped to say back to him, "Right, well... you talk to me if you need anything. You can talk to ANY of us, understand?" She readied her other hoof on the fence but then halted again to hastily add, "Heck, start talking even if you don't think you need anything. Cause if the next time I see you the sad train hasn't left the pity station, well then I'm gonna shovel hot coals right under your hooves to get ya moving." With a final smile and laugh, she vaulted herself over the fence and trotted back through the orchard.

As the autumn-wearied apple trees passed her by, she reflected on what had transpired. Even though James was an individual that she still felt she would never completely understand, one who was capable of things that were always going to be too terrible for her to contemplate, he was at the same time full of all the softness and emotion that she and her friends could feel. Not understanding him fully was exactly why Twilight should be involved; it takes a pony with a better mind than hers to deal with this. And maybe Twilight couldn't have gotten started until somepony else had raised the bridge of honesty... but that was what friendship and teamwork was all about.

She didn't need to hope that she had done right, or had said the right things. She truthfully felt she had. And the unusual man from the far away place... well, he had shown himself honestly enough for her. That was all she required in a friend.

Reaching her still busy brother again, Applejack greeted, "Hey, Big Mac! All taken care of, I think! We can probably start figuring out what I owe ya!"

"Hmmm?" the oversized stallion groaned.

"Yeah, probably!" she confirmed. She took a single look back through the orchard, at the fence and beyond, but nobody was there.

Chapter 24: Beginning

The empty parchment, worn, brown, and with edges slightly curled, still sat on the table at the side of the room, partnered with the ready quill which laid right next to it. They were as unused as they had been since yesterday, awaiting fulfillment of their purpose. But the more Twilight stared at the blank canvas before her the more she just couldn't bring herself to begin writing anything on it. She shut her eyes to block out the image of the unwritten page, a barren face which mocked her inability to generate a report, and she rubbed her temple while groaning.

Maybe she should try to do something else instead. AGAIN. Her magic enveloped a different, far busier sheet of paper and floated it over to her. It was a schedule, partially fixed since her return, and it harbored the demands placed upon her for the remainder of the day and even some of tomorrow. There was still plenty more to correct on it due to her recent excursion, not to mention actually fulfilling all the responsibilities it enumerated, but... ugh... she only stared vapidly at it. Her struggling focus didn't settle on that parchment either.

Placing the schedule back where she had taken it from, she wandered to the window and gazed outside. Out in the clear, shining sunlight, Ponyville seemed as normal as it ever was. But inside the more muggy and musky library nothing had been particularly ordinary for weeks, and less so today. Not long after the brief encounter with James earlier, she had heard the man leave; it had come in the telltale frustrated sound of a slamming front door. She couldn't help but worry about him. Somehow it was even worse than the last time he had stormed out. Before, she had wished that he hadn't gone, had convinced herself that she was worried about him only, and then secretly had worried more about herself and how she had believed she had failed. Now this time, she KNEW she had to let him go and had to trust whomever he had gone to see (if anypony,) and she also had to have the strength to rise above herself and worry purely for him.

She shook her head and focused again on the streets outside. There wasn't any sign of him.

Sighing, she turned away and looked about the room once more. So much to do, yet it felt empty of value. In the face of a certain challenge before her, the more regular rigors of her life lost their meaning. So much to do, so nothing to do. She needed something to help ease her sore headache.

Fatigued, she made her way downstairs and went to the kitchen where she immediately filled a teapot with water and set it to warm upon the stove. From a cabinet high on the wall she drew out a single teacup, and then from the pantry she pulled out a bag of her favorite tea. A warm beverage, a fragrant flavor, and a few quiet minutes were hopefully all the antidote that she needed. Leaving the items aside, she sat down and watched the pot never boil.

Come on...

Still no tea whistle. Better take a peek out of the kitchen window while waiting. Nope, nothing there.

She went back to watching the teapot, humming impatiently to herself.

Geez, this water must have started out really cold. Was there anything out the window? No? Okay, back to the pot-watch. But maybe another quick look outside wouldn't hurt. Nope, nothing still.

She ran several laps around the kitchen like that, meandering from stove to window. For several minutes she was inescapably snagged in an idle-minded rhythm, until her compulsive cycle suddenly broke. After more than a dozen glances out the window she had quickly built up the habit of turning away once she had gotten her momentary glimpse. She nearly made that mistake on one particular lap before she realized with popping eyes that... there James was!

She would have turned right around and zoomed to the front door if she hadn't immediately caught notice of how he walked. Chin to chest, forgotten eyes, and an all-consuming downcast look, like every stormcloud for miles had been herded over him. He trodded sullenly from one side of the glass view to the other and then he was gone from sight. Several seconds later, from the other room, there was the steady creak of door swinging open followed immediately by the slow sound of it solemnly drifting shut.

Twilight stayed staring out the window, locked in some spell of thought, and she was freed only when the teapot behind her suddenly called for her attention, sputtering wet tweets. She rushed over and shut the flame off while shifting the pot from the hot stovetop to a cold one, but then she only sat idle again as the cries of the teapot wound down. Her mind wandered, hoping and helpless, and eventually her eyes started to wander too. The lone teacup and the single bag of tea settled into her view.

After three or four minutes, she came waltzing out of the kitchen with two fresh cups of tea floating carefully besides her. The steam rising from them left a fragrant trail that lagged in air behind her. The man was already seated on the floor against the wall, as he so often sat. Slumped in one of the shaded edges of the room, his attention was fixed on the floor as he absorbed the darkness about him.

The unicorn eased over towards him before she compulsively whisked a thick wool coaster under one of her hot beverages and set it down on the smoothed wooden flooring before him. She hated the informality of just leaving the cup on the floor, but... "Here," she said, "this is some of the jasmine peach tea that Fluttershy sent you. I was making my own tea and... I thought you might like to have some of yours, too." She placed another coaster under her own teacup and set it down in front of herself, wishing all the while that he had chosen a location nearer to a table or shelf. Drinks set, she relaxed her legs and sat down across from him, a comfortable distance away.

His head picked up faintly, observing the softly steaming drink before him and the friendly, nervously smiling pony beyond. But he didn't take the cup or acknowledge the pony, and his eyes merely floated back down to the floor.

Twilight used the man's brief stirring to steal some observations. It was clear to her that his tiredness had only been compounding since he was last here. There was a frozen stiffness lodged in him, yet still his body was limp and sagging like he had been aggressively drained of energy. The small shifting movements of his neck had all the harshness of two stones grinding together. And his eyes... they were washed in a deep and painful red. He had been crying.

Downhearted and with a sunken spirit, she tried to act and sound casual as she began to ramble, "So, ah... I... I noticed that you left earlier and... I mean, that's not a problem, I'm not your keeper... and... now you're back... and, uh... I know that I've... sort of been on top of you a lot... like, I'm always, you know, basically, uh... interrogating you... and stepping into your personal space and everything and, ah... I do think I should try and curb that, but, um... but I have to ask just now... did you... did you go talk to Applejack, by any chance?" She dropped a tiny sigh out of her nose, understanding quite well just how fidgety she was being and how stupid and desperate she sounded.

But the man offered nothing. No words, or gestures, nor any movements at all. He gave no semblance of a response.

"Alright, ah," Twilight muttered as her head sunk, "is... is it okay then if... if I just sit here for a little bit? And if you feel like answering you can. I mean, take your time! If you want to answer, that is. No rush or anything, ah..." She started to anxiously lift her teacup with her magic but her control was so unrefined that the drink wobbled and nearly spilled all over the floor. Quickly setting it down with a panicked cringe, she continued on nervously, "B-but, uh... if... if I'm bothering you or... or if you want to be left alone, that's okay too. You can just say so and... and, uh, I can... I can go..." Trembling and slow, she picked her rear partially up off the wood and held it there, ready to depart at a moment's notice. But she held back; she wished for a specific answer first.

Still, the man was only emotionless and uncommitted.

She trepidatiously returned her butt to the floor. "So... it's alright if I just... wait?" she hoped. "I'm, uh... I'm sorry for babbling, eheh..."

Everything about him continued to be neither this way or that way, and so the encounter coasted into a long silence. The unicorn merely waited in the soundless noise for the living statue to do something, or anything even. Now and again, with significant concentration, she picked up her teacup to blow some cooling air on it, or to skittishly and slowly swish it about, or even to take a sip or two.

It wasn't with a crash but with a whisper that James started to move. He crept along almost motionlessly, as slow as the dawning sun. Like the algorithmic motions of a robot, he went step by step. First there was a lean forward, then there was a lowered arm, then his fingers pushed through the handle of his teacup, and finally he picked it up. It was practically performance art; a pony trapped in hardening cement.

Twilight's apprehensive attitude was injected with a fresh mix of strange excitement upon the sight. She straightened up her posture, her ears shot up, she leaned in, and her eyes welled with anticipation.

But the man took no sip, nor did he puff away any heat, nor did he roll the teacup gently in the air. He held it loosely in his hand and looked over what he had grasped for a dozen lengthy seconds, studying it like some valuable find from an ancient ruin. It lasted so long that it was a surprise again when his voice finally emerged. Sore and hoarse, there was graininess to his sound as he heaved a little to get his throat muscles going again. He asked oddly, "Why do you even have loops in your teacups if you don't have any fingers?"

It was such a perfectly silly question. It shattered the frosty walls of ice that ran between them, leaving not a shard behind. Twilight smiled.

Put instantly at ease, she was able to answer in a direct and simple fashion, "It's just a matter of style, mostly. That's how teacups have always been made since antiquity. It's sort of embedded into the idea of what a teacup is at this point." She lightly scrutinized the cup which floated in front of her and tapped it gingerly with her hoof. "But really, fingers aren't strictly needed. A pony with a steady hoof could pick them up by the handle too."

"So stupid...," James murmured back, "... you mean like how Applejack doffs her hat somehow, right?" He shook his disbelieving head before he spontaneously asked her, "Prove it."

"Oh, well, I pretty much always use my magic, but... okay, I guess I can try." She gently set her teacup back down and released her magical grip. Her hoof came out and she pressed it right up against the elegantly curved handle, jiggling the cup on its coaster. Then, through some ridiculousness far beyond the man's ability to explain and way outside his true concern to comprehend, the teacup rose as she lifted her hoof up, as if there was some form of ceramic magnet secreted away inside her leg. Twilight only brought the drink a few inches off the ground. Her slight apprehension in the moment and her overall lack of manual practice had the cup shaking extensively in her hoof, with waves of hot tea biting at its lips. "Aha!" she still declared triumphantly before she swiftly set her drink back down.

The man whispered something under his breath that for all its vulgarity still had twinges of amusement. He at last took a sip of his own tea.

The warm calm that descended upon the two friends left the unicorn with a pleasant smile and she was more than happy to let the time pass quietly while they both nipped at their drinks. The tea cooled to a cozy temperature, it disappeared slowly from their cups, and minute after minute rolled by without a word being exchanged between them, though never once was the library air disturbed with awkward tingles.

Eventually James took his final sip, throwing the cup back and giving it a shake to dislodge the last drops of tea. Afterwards, he held his teacup out and on its side; nothing but empty air poured out.

As he set it back down on its coaster, Twilight proposed, "If you need any more, I can-"

The man shook his head, backed by a small wave of his hand.

"Okay," the amiable pony nodded, setting her own nearly drained drink back down. She paused for a moment before she very knowingly intoned, "Do you need anything at all?"

He delayed in responding. It was a fight for him to come to a decision. But eventually, without focus in his eyes or much strength in his body, he stated, "... Applejack thought I should talk to you."

The statement surprised Twilight. Gnawing teeth of worry bit her from behind; fearful that her seemingly sensible choice to have trusted her friend may have somehow been ill-made. She immediately and genuinely apologized, "Oh, I'm sorry for ping ponging you. I didn't think-"

"I mean," James interrupted, again with a wave of his hand, "she said a lot of stuff besides, but that was one of her recommendations."

"Oh, okay." A great happiness stirred inside the unicorn, swiftly relieving her and dispelling the foolish worries that had tried to mire her. From all the way across town she felt her friend's encouragement. Just like at Heartwood, when her strength had been sapped and she could no longer stand on her own, the farm pony's honest and powerful support held her up and covered for her weakness.

Renewed, she looked straight at James and asked, "So... do you want to talk?"

He was almost pale and his body shook involuntarily in several places. He turned his head away and he answered, "If it were up to me? No... but... I guess it doesn't matter what I want..."

"No. It does matter," Twilight quickly resisted his defeated pessimism. "Like I said before: if you yourself have no vested interest in figuring this out then there really isn't any point in anypony trying to help. I can be supportive and I can try to make things better where I can, but I can't control how you feel. And none of us can truly do anything to help without you." Not with begging and pleading but in unequivocal offering she said, "You have to want our help."

"I want...," he began, his aura still dark and cold. "I just want... everything to stop." There was something tortured and tired in his words; something within that was devoid of life. "I want to see my family again. My friends. My life, my world." The control he had built up over his emotions after confronting Applejack started to break down again. "I want to have had the choice to have come here or not."

For Twilight, the world about her shrunk away and disappeared. There was a solitary instant where she was the only being in existence, and the anguish of what he had expressed passed through the void directly into her, unfiltered by the biases of the world. The stranglingly heavy, deafeningly loud, immeasurably deep, helplessly dark, profoundly painful truth struck her all at once, without forgiving leniency or hesitant mercy. She could have groped about in the waking darkness forever, searching for answers for him, and never would she have stumbled upon the terror that lingered in the suffocating shadows. Now, in a single heartbreaking instant, she grasped it all at once.

It was overwhelming.

She had always implicitly understood he had been through a difficult transition; even a blind mare would have seen that. And it was deeper than all the explosions, life-threatening danger, and dynamic action that had occurred at the moment of crossing over. She understood factually that he had parted with a place steeped in spiritual comfort: home. He had been ripped away and taken to new, different place in the blink of an eye. A place that had none of the safety of the old. But the agonized truth of that change had never become real to her, until now. Somehow it had always lurked beyond her imagination, as if the pain that change inflicted were only mythical, false, ignorable, or impossible. Whether she had been so caught up in having an alien to study, or so self-consciously burdened by the tasks that she always had to complete, or so proudly engaged in promoting her ideals of friendship... or ANYTHING... something so essential and so personal had escaped her all this time. The infinite depth of this tragedy finally, finally caught up to her.

"I'm so sorry...," she whimpered. It trickled out of her like the last gasps of a deflating balloon. "All this time and... and I never even realized-" But then something sharp pierced her; a moment of linked emotions between the unicorn and the man. Her eyes watered. "I... I've been a truly horrible friend," she whispered in a subdued breath.

"Don't you start!" James immediately warned her, awash with an upset anger. "You've... you've been wedging yourself into some things that... that I don't think are really your business anyway, yeah. But- but that...," he tensed up, hard and sharp, "... that doesn't make it a fuc-" He caught himself just in time and held his tongue back, allowing himself a moment to breath before he continued with better, quieter control, "-doesn't make it a crime to care." There was a shameful drop to his head. "... And to even keep caring, especially when you have every reason to stop."

It was a comforting acknowledgment to hear from him but Twilight stayed slumped in defeated despondency as a few small tears dripped their way out of her sunless eyes. In the ensuing sad, thoughtful silence, her expanded mind seemed to automatically grasp at grander things; to reach out over the furtherest horizons; to look over every bigger picture; to try to find some reason and rationality in this unnecessary tragedy; to discover SOMETHING that would help her understand. Drifting through thought and mind, her attention somehow fell upon her own memories and history: how her life did or didn't relate to his; who she was; where she had been; where she was going.

"I really... grew up relatively lonely," she broke the stillness in a low, dry voice.

The man listened.

"I mean, not that-... I ever felt like that. I didn't have trouble with it at the time. How would I have known, really? I had my brother, and my foalsitter, and my parents, and my studies. I... well... I never really thought about it... but I didn't really have all that much of true, meaningful, personal value." She grimaced at the retroactive truth of her thought. In those days, no matter what she had dreamed of, she would have never dared to ask for anything more than she already had. But hindsight let her understand how little she had allowed herself. In one way she was happy that she had dodged what could have been a long age of having despaired over the things that she didn't have, but in another way she was remorseful for all that she had missed in that time. "I didn't have all that much in the way of... you know... friends," she sighed. "I probably trotted by Gadget over a hundred times in the streets of Canterlot and never noticed her even once. Another filly who I would have immediately gotten along with; who could've been a great friend, and I never once looked her way."

Her personal story replayed itself and, though she was swimming through a gloomy mire, her spirit suddenly brightened. "Then one day," she continued, "that all started to change. One by one, little miracles came into my life." Her smile appeared, and then it broadened as her eyes sparkled with the dazzling light of love. "I was accepted in Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, including becoming the Princess's personal student! Then I was GIVEN somepony who has become the closest, most loyal, most faithful companion I have ever known; Spike... And later, I moved to Ponyville where I have made such incredible and unforgettable friends! And so much more! And... and who knows what else might still happen?

"My life so far," she concluded firmly, full of an accepted, inspiring, remembered realization, "even if I've been tested for it from time to time, has been a magical life full of gaining such wonderful things, one after the other." Her bright face then faded behind a cloudy concern. "James," she said somberly, "I don't understand what's been happening to you... I can't..."

A shock ran through the man, from head to toe. He saw a mirror of his own words, as had been delivered to Applejack, now reflected honestly back at him.

But then Twilight snapped up, stalwart, any remaining traces of despair fleeing from her without pause. "I can't... I can't YET...," she went on with courageous determination. "So, I think I really have to try! To try and understand, and do something! If you'll let me..."

James pulled into himself, quiet and alone. But then, in the tiniest reversal of the tide, with the dimmest light of a new sun, with the faintest opening note of an orchestral symphony, he squeaked with the voice of a mouse, "... I want help..."

The unicorn drifted the two dry teacups away, coasters and all. Picking herself up, she took several steps forward so that she was immediately in front of her friend then sat right back down. "Then that's what you're going to get," she steadfastly told him with an extended hoof placed on his shoulder.

The air rung with hope.

But like all echoing noises it diminished with each pulse. The troubled pony withdrew her hoof as she watched him fight to hold on to her promise of salvation. The words she had given him had offered him something: some groundwork; some foundation on which to build his hopes. But outside of that, they had only been just words. Inside, he seemed to be fighting a losing battle; lost without a road to follow; blind without a light to lead. He was succumbing to himself.

The aimless silence ticked by, second after second.

"Tell me something," Twilight suddenly encouraged out of the blue. Broad, open, and free.

"What?" the confounded man asked.

"Tell me something," she said again. "Anything. Whether it's something that you think is important to all this or not. Neither of us really knows what exactly to do, right? But we have to start somewhere. So how about, at least just once, I stop trying to pick you apart on my own and give you the chance to lead us somewhere. Anywhere." With inviting warmth she offered again, "Tell me something."

James swallowed once, letting out a reserved sigh afterwards. He couldn't pull something from the absolute chaos of his mind. There was a directionless jumble in his head; scattered thoughts that meshed together or pulled apart without purpose or meaning; ideas distorted from being caught up in a million places he didn't want to be. Screams of the past, worries of the future, destinies of yesterday, fates of tomorrow; any time he tried to bring all his mental strength to bear on a single thought his racing mind only steered him away.

Just like when Princess Celestia had departed from his company at Canterlot; just like when Applejack had erected a hurdle his fear couldn't lead him away from; he felt like he was going to burst open and all his vulnerabilities were going to come pouring out and drown him. He was going to be eaten alive by his own despair. The slow death that had been consuming him was going to finish its lengthy work at last.

With his personal comfort eradicated, with his wits incapable of grasping momentary concerns, and his confusion swirling about him, he began spitting out words. There was one thing within him that was just as distorted as his broken state of mind, and maybe, just maybe, he had the power to ramble on it.

"These nightmares I've been having...," he murmured with uncertain fear, "... in them I keep... I keep seeing... memories of old and dear places... places with lots of personal history. And people. Sometimes I see the faces of... familiar people... people I love. But... all those old things..." The agitating images flashed in his mind against his own control, and he trembled. "... They're always... they're always different than they were. They're never completely as they're supposed to be."

A sour, subdued, frightened, defensive rage peeked out of his voice. "There's always bits of Equestria tangled up in everything. There's always ponies there, standing in for the friends or family that I used to have. Or if I do see other people that I know, I never get to engage with them... only the ponies ever interact with me."

He felt his fist involuntarily ball up. It shook as it squeezed tighter and tighter, and his nails pressed into his palm so hard that it nearly drew blood. He had to grip his wrist to get it to ease up. The experience startled him; how he had sensed his body react to a dark power inside that he hadn't been able to immediately contain. He actually felt terrified. "And lately...," he revealed to the unicorn, "... there's been... an anger... such anger..." Warped images of a knife and Applejack's throat blinked in his mind.

His words on his anger were hardly necessary. Now that he had opened himself up, Twilight could see it clearly for herself. Beyond his distraught and forsaken gloom, like being caught out in a storm on an already bad day, his buried hostility emerged without a shadow to cover it. A rage built up against the world and even life itself, spurred on by these invading dream-ponies who were assaulting memories that he held so dear. She conjectured, seeking his confirmation, "And that's what bothers you so badly about your dreams? What you're seeing? Witnessing your valued memories being consumed or taken apart by Equestria?"

But the man was entirely lost. His mind wasn't in a right place. He was only able to carry himself onwards blindly because of the unicorn's support, presenting her with his weak and fragmented thoughts. Verifying anything for her was a lot to ask. Only his head moved, jiggling with a bit of a yes and a bit of a no.

"There's a lot that can be said about dreams," Twilight continued on her own, with the hope that she could bring things somewhere useful to him. "Princess Luna would probably be able to offer better insight and analysis than I could, but... personally, I think you were right before, James." She nodded and easily explained, "You're dreams are just a mishmash of different experiences and memories coming together in your mind. It's just how you feel about them that's the problem. And because they perturb you so much... you're unable to let them go and thus you keep seeing them. I mean, these dreams are on your mind a lot, right? Not even when you're asleep?"

This time he nodded with sorrowful certainty.

"Well," she quietly and stoutly assured him, "you don't have to be afraid. Your memories are safe, James. NOTHING can take them from you, if you don't want that to happen."

Her simple wisdom tried to break into him. It tried to dislodge the gooey fear that was stuck in his mind; to wash him clean and leave him comfortably purified.

But it didn't work. Out of his despair a broken reply rose up, "... What if they aren't safe...?"

"What are you saying?" Twilight asked him with disbelief.

He shuffled about where he sat, holding his head low. "What if I do start caring for all the ponies here... and I start to care less about who I loved before?" He started to rub the back of his hand with his other palm. Out loud the assertion had sounded strange, even to him, but on the inside it still helplessly strangled him; a childlike fear trapping him in a deadly corner. "What if... I get over everyone that's gone... because... maybe... I never really cared about them at all?"

When the agony-laden words hit the pony's ears, at first she couldn't even seem to parse them. She shook her sullen head and, grieving for him, she questioned, "Why would you ever think that?"

The man gave her a hurt look briefly, his eyes glistening with renewing pain. Quickly he scrambled to nervously glance away as he rubbed himself some more.

Twilight's own face dipped down, a little bruised by seeing how she had made him feel, but still more concerned for him than anything. Forcefully, she tried to bring her mind around to understanding him. Even if his worries seemed so disconnected and nearly preposterous to her... maybe she would feel the same way, if all her friends disappeared? Could she make new friends again? Or would she just be looking for a 'new' Rarity; a 'new' Fluttershy; reasons to forget that she had lost old friends? She immediately felt a sour barb jab her, finding the thought of replacement friends insulting and distasteful.

She was also reminded again of her own past panic and retroactively nonsensical fear. What was it she had told Applejack and Rainbow Dash while they were at Canterlot? That Princess Celestia was going to find her to be such a failure of a student that her apprenticeship would be terminated and she would be shipped out to one of the remotest corners of Equestria to be forgotten? That had been real sturdy thinking there, Twilight. But... the infinite darkness that had pounded against her like a raging surf had seemed to be so real and terrifying then. It had taken the heroic support of her friends to drag her out of the terror and back to safety. Regardless of how foolish she felt now for having had believed it, it had existed.

And... even Princess Celestia herself had suffered from such regrets and doubts. Even four hundred years after she had lost Prideheart she had still been thinking about him with anxious uncertainty. It had still taken great strength from her to have told his story. The question of whether she had done what was best for him by letting him go had still haunted her dreams.

Suddenly Twilight found it wasn't so hard to understand where James was coming from after all.

She unguardedly theorized to him, "If I choose to believe that everything of your old life that you loved was... TRULY loved; that they were such an essential and eternal part of you as to be inseparable; then having had them ripped out so horribly would be utterly and irreversibly devastating, and maybe you could never recover. Then... this would be the end..." She turned slightly and presented the other side, "But if I choose to say that you CAN move on from the loss, it calls into question how 'essential' and 'eternal' all those things were to you to begin with. You're forced into questioning how much they really meant to you. No... how much they really MEAN to you."

It was such an awful way of perceiving things; a hopeless perception that twisted love and devotion into wicked things that were either meaningless or poisonous. She doubtfully murmured, "I don't know what good that-... ugh... You can't allow yourself to think like that because you'd only be boxing yourself in to inevitable defeat."

James tried to focus. He intensely pushed on his concentration in order to hold his shaking hands steady in his lap as he thought about what she had said. "I don't know if that's what I think," he eventually told her, but then his voice became draped in fright, "but it is how I really feel... and in that case... isn't anything I do to ignore those feelings just... lying to myself?" He sighed sadly, "Like I've been doing this whole time..."

"No," Twilight strongly answered, "I think that it's more like... what the Dryponies felt. There are very real things that you feel; very real emotions that you're having. And they're fearful and frightening... and hard to turn away from. Like believing in a wicked Sun." She tried to draw out the strength that he had shown before, in the heat of the crisis that had occurred at Heartwood, "But you know that sticking to those feelings, that never moving beyond them, will only lead to places that are so terrible. Just like you told those ponies in the forest... if you want a better outcome then you'll need to carry on and go forward despite those dark feelings. You'll need to be brave. You'll need to walk on an unknown and frightening road with only faithful trust that it leads somewhere better."

The unicorn planted a safe hoof on top of one of his still jittering hands to hold it steady, and she said to him, "I HONESTLY BELIEVE that you will never forget all the people, and places, and memories that you love so much. They'll always be special in your heart, even if you carry on to a new life. You're not going to settle for them having any less value to you. I don't think you're that kind of pony."

She took her hoof back and held it against herself in a gesture both of direction and of vow, and she swore to him, "I'll help you with that in whatever ways I can." A youthful, excited twinkling came back into her eyes and she asked with the animated enthusiam of an eager filly, "Tell me your stories. Let me hear them. You've talked about your family and friends a little bit, but tell me more. Share those memories; don't let those stories live only in you. I really, really do want to hear them. I mean... as interesting as the Industrial Revolution sounds and everything, that doesn't mean I like personal stories any less! They can be just as interesting! Tell me all about the places you've been to, the things you remember, the people you care about... tell me everything, so I can love them all too!"

There was an unbroken silence again. James still drifted in a sea of darkness, feeling battered by lost and lonely waves. But this time her strong words became the first drops of glowing hope and shining love to break through the storm. Warm light, even if only a small amount, trickled in through cracks in the concealing clouds.

After a few moments for himself, he asked her faintly and with a little bit of hesitation, "... Right now, you mean?"

"Oh, it doesn't have to be now," she easily replied. "It doesn't have to be today, or tomorrow. You can share your stories with me any time you feel like it."

It was a relief to him; he wasn't sure he had the strength to try at the moment. Her wonderful support was pushing the chaotic confusion from his head, allowing him to catch and listen to some of his own thoughts, but he still didn't feel all together.

And he still wasn't confident in the road ahead. With a weak smile, he nervously doubted, "I'm don't know if... if that's really going to make everything better."

"It's not supposed to solve everything. There isn't going to be one thing that fixes everything," she warmly tried to teach him. "Hopefully it'll help you along. We should still look to do more for you."

"Like...," the man whispered, thinking back. He limply pointed towards the library door. "Like... go out there and... get involved with stuff... explore..."

"Just like Applejack has been suggesting?" Twilight wondered idly aloud. But then she nodded in immediate agreement. "That sounds very good to me. I've seen that you definitely pick up when you go out and DO things. You have all these troublesome feelings inside you, but when you're out and active you're able to push past them. The best, strongest parts of yourself come surging right back." Carefully supportive, she warned, "Again, just being outside of the library more is not what is going to solve everything. And the idea isn't to bury your negative feelings with positive ones... but to bring out the best of you more often, as another step in the right direction."

James sighed. Defining a place for himself within Ponyville provoked a hidden fear within him; it tugged at all his worries of losing who and what he was in order to risk becoming some... pony. But maybe she was right; maybe Applejack was right too. He had to put a little life in so he could get a little life out. Like a Drypony stepping out of the forest to meet their enemies with open arms...

He tried to bring his mind around to what was even out there in Ponyville. The market, where he would usually shop only for food? The town square, busy with ponies who wandered to and fro, and who he would minimize his contact with as they often seemed so obviously jumpy in his presence? The spa, where he had an experience that he couldn't deny was relaxing and delightful but the thought of it still made him squirm uncomfortably? He didn't want to find new things out about himself; he wanted to retain what he remembered. And besides, he had loaned away the scrunchie he had borrowed, so he couldn't go back to the spa yet, maybe, right?

Seeing him struggle in his thoughts, Twilight stated, "Don't know where to start, huh? Hmm..." She tapped her hoof on her chin before lighting up with a thought. "Did you get to the end of 'Shadow of a Pony's Heart' yet?" she asked.

"No," he responded simply with a mild shake of his head, paying odd attention to the unicorn's strange approach.

"Well, by the way we've talked before I know you've already mostly figured this out so this isn't really going to be a spoiler but... all of the friends Sidlesong makes over the course of her adventure have a part in the conclusion. They all work together to drive out the invading shadows, redeem the Dreadful Dark Stallion, and restore the light to Equestria." And she wasn't off the mark. It was an ending whose broad strokes could have been seen by an attentive reader a mile away. But it was a good ending even if predictable because it held on to something so true; something that saturated the book. Twilight pulled it out for him, "We can do the same thing here, with you. Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Pinkie Pie, me... we can all pitch in and find ways to help you go along."

As he sat there quietly, he followed each of his breaths with a subsequently easier one. Slowly, there was a palpable release of tension from him. It unwound itself and leaked out of him, bit by bit, melting into the air or sinking into the floor as his shoulders eased down and his head picked up. Then, with a voice that was still low, he gave a small smile and chuckled, "I like how you implicitly conflate me with the book's ultimate antagonist."

It made Twilight throw a hoof over her mouth to contain a short laugh. Obviously not what she had intended to say, but at least he had strayed from taking one of her openly interpretable statements poorly this time. She was glad, anyway. His simple remark, light as it was with humor, masked his hard-chosen and implied acceptance of what she had truly said. It reminded her of a little filly who, with eyes still glistening and red from a bout of tears, was just picking up their smile again after scrapping a knee.

"I think each of us can find different things for you get involved with; to keep you busy; to share experiences with you," she continued, improving in humor herself. An impromptu plan formed in her head and she floated, "Maybe instead of tucking away in the library everyday you could spend one day of each week helping one of us with our usual responsibilities, or anything else we want to do, and then you'd still have the seventh day for yourself so you'd have time to do anything you particularly wanted to, or you could even just sit about in quiet reflection." It was a rough but satisfying idea; not overwhelming James all at once and also not leaving him to endure the fight all alone. With an easy smile she said, "We can give that a try and then let's see what happens. Branch you out a little bit and then take it from there."

"... Do you really think that will help?" James asked after a sluggish moment of thought. Any traces of his doubt, or his anger, or his fear, or even his sarcasm had faded; he was only having trouble hoping on his own.

"I think it's worth trying," the sure pony asserted. "And I also think that if we KEEP trying, we'll eventually find a way."

Sitting silently against the wall, the man took her strength in. Outside, the small motions of the sun suddenly cast light through the windows more strongly and the room brightened.

Idle seconds continued to stack on top on one another, unbroken by either the man or the pony. James stayed focused and looked inwards as he worked softly on building himself back up with loaned strength. Twilight was placated, happy, and hopeful. These empty moments didn't strike her with fear anymore; didn't drag her into panicked worriment that she had to somehow fix everything quickly. In fact, thinking of patience...

Suddenly, the unicorn stood up and drew the spent teacups over to herself. "Maybe that's enough for now," she simply stated.

James peeked up, touched with small hints of worry. "What? T-that's it? But, w-what about... I mean... we haven't..."

"This isn't something that is going to be magically cured," she comforted him again. "There's not going to be one thing that happens and then it all goes away. You're not going to wake up one day all better. And because of that... there's no NEED to rush it. We just go step by step, day by day..." She had a pleasant smile; the same as the one she had worn on the morning that they had departed from Heartwood. How things would go, she didn't know, but she knew where, and they'd get there. Eventually.

She turned to the side, getting ready to return the teacups to the kitchen, but said back to him strongly, "Anyway, I really think that... by even just acknowledging your feelings, and making the determination to do something about it... to work together to take care of it... you've already taken the biggest and most important step: choosing to go forward. It's like the Dryponies deciding to give peace a chance; they still have a lot to do to work with the frontiersponies... but little by little they'll get there." Happily, she concluded, "Same with you."

She began to trot away when, just before she would have disappeared into the kitchen, he called after her in a reserved voice, "Hey... you don't still have that... detecto-thing set up, do you?"

The brightest smile burst out of the unicorn and she halted her exit while she excitedly responded in one breath, "Yes! I haven't taken it down yet! And, I mean, I have things to do, but that's always something with me anyway so, really, I don't mind making the time if, I mean... right now, would you like to-"

"Yeah...," he quickly answered, "... yeah... I think I would." With great effort he managed to push his tired body off the floor and stand up straight.

"Okay, sure!" Twilight enthusiastically said. Her legs scrambled about. All of her eagerness was trying to pull her one way while her brain was still trying to direct her flopping limbs to the kitchen to return the teacups.

As James came over, he rubbed his stomach and suggested, "Maybe... maybe we could eat first though?" His chin dropped a little, obviously chiding himself inside for the poor decisions he had made in his funk, and he admitted, "I haven't really eaten all day..."

"Oh, no problem at all!" she said back to him. Something irrepressible had taken hold of her. The final darkened clouds that had come with the rainstorm days ago had cleared up at long last. "I'm not hungry myself but you can go ahead and get something for yourself."

He nodded and then grabbed the two teacups out of the air. "I'll take these back and wash them then," he offered.

"Sure," she gladly accepted, releasing her magic. "I'll go double-check the machine and meet you upstairs whenever you're ready." Obstructions removed, she was finally able to give clear orders to her legs and she presented a joyful smile to the man before she started to trot off, practically skipping along.

"Thanks... again...," James called to her as he pushed open the kitchen door.

"No, thank you!" the gleeful unicorn called back. She was clear, loud, jubilant, and upbeat.

She could hardly contain herself as she bounded up the stairs. She raced through the door at the top and floated airily into the room where the mechanical juggernaut of a device still sat. Its cylindrical metal frame, its broad control panel, all its coiled wires stretching from place to place; they had been parked there in operational shape for days, collecting dust. Maybe if Twilight hadn't gone to Hamestown her slow despair would have seen her dismantle it in defeat days ago. But it had stayed safely home and assembled like a forgotten hope tucked away somewhere hidden.

However, the sprightly mare skipped right by the bulky device. She knew it worked and she didn't need to double-check anything. When Gadget had repaired it she had already compulsively given it a once-over. Even though she was a few minutes away from demonstrating the device for James, the machine and associated lesson were actually the furtherest thing from her mind. She was far more inspired to do something else with the free moment she had.

She planted herself before the side table with the waiting parchment and whisked the ready quill into the air. Immediately the feather was inked and then it danced across the page, guided by Twilight's driven thoughts. Letter by letter it poured out of her, faster than any magical typewriter. The final bits of long-building ideas had fallen into place at last and she knew exactly what she wanted to say. The message had been in front of her this whole time but she finally had exactly what she needed to transcribe it.

Word by word, without hesitation, it came out:

Dear Princess Celestia,

While I'm sure there is plenty I could say about everything that happened at Hamestown, I don't intend to make that the focus of this letter. Besides the fact that we've already discussed the matter somewhat personally, you were there to see it concluded anyhow. Instead, I want to write something about the special charge you assigned me before that. Or more accurately, the special friend I've made. What he's been going through, and its effect on me.

James hasn't been doing well. In his heart, I mean. The full weight of what has happened to him has slowly been descending upon him as he's recovered from the shock of his transition, and it is really and truly beginning to hurt him badly. I feel a little ashamed to admit that to you, as if I myself were somehow responsible by having been given the formal assignment of watching over him. But I understand now how that thought is only me being selfish. It sounds strange, I know, but I can see that I was taking his awful suffering, something of terrible importance, and I was turning it around and making it about me. I approached him and tried to help him, and that wasn't inherently bad or wrong of me to do; I was feeling genuine sympathy and remorse for him. But how much of it was steeped in wanting to make myself feel better? To not be a failure at my assignment? To not be the friend who couldn't help her friends?

But what he's up against is something powerful, and tragic, and dark. Something like I've never confronted before. Something SERIOUS, beyond any significant meaning of that word than I have ever used. And what he needs is somepony to love and care about him unselfishly, and I think we can see I wasn't up to that earlier. When I tried to help and he turned me away, it hurt. It hurt very badly. And because of that... I gave up. I turned away from helping a friend when he needed it the most, because it really hurt me to try.

I can only imagine what making a decision before the angry and crippled Prideheart must have been like, suffering as he was. When somepony that you care about is in deep pain, you FEEL a pain yourself. But it's easy to be frightened by that pain, or scared of increasing it for your friend. It makes it so hard to find the right thing to do, if there is any right thing to do at all. Now I feel like sometimes, especially against such terrible and personal things as this, I won't always know what the right decision is. I won't always be able to figure it out. Sometimes maybe I'll just have to do my best and pray for it to be enough.

Fortunately for me, I have amazing friends. I had given up, but they didn't. They pulled me out of my own dark thoughts. They care about me unselfishly, in the way that I need to care about James. They will always be there to help me make hard, uncertain decisions as long as I have the strength and humility to ask them for help, and they will stick with me through thick and thin. Now, together we're going to work at healing our new friend.

James told me once that "there would always be melancholy days," and he's right to a point. It's an inevitable part of life that sad times will come now and again (even if I haven't seen much of that myself yet.) But I think he also viewed the idea too fatally. He felt that, when those days come, they must be suffered through helplessly. That you must wait until they pass. Maybe that works for some sorrowful things, but I think that sometimes living, or rather SURVIVING, takes more than just enduring the hardest times that life lays upon you. You have to stand up and try to push back against the pain and the darkness. And when you can't stand up, you have to accept that it's okay to be held up by others; even let them guide you through the dark. Maybe, sometimes, even if you're both blind!

Maybe his forlorn feelings came about because that has been his experience with tragedy so far. I know vaguely that he has endured some painful times in the past. Maybe he never consciously recognized how he had gotten by them, but I think I know what it was: all the valued love in his life was a bulwark against dark tides. Now I think, knowingly or not, he's afraid that all that love might be going away, or even already gone. He's not in shape to use it like he could before to protect himself. My friends and I will help show him that the love leftover from his old life doesn't need to vanish, and that there is even more for him here, ready to help.

I believe in my heart that James will be alright. In a small part because I am committing myself to doing everything I can to help ease him through the pain from his loss, and I do it now for his own sake. In a larger part because I know that when I ask all of my wonderful friends to assist me, they'll pitch in without hesitation, and our teamwork allows us to accomplish things together that would be unimaginable or even dangerous alone. But most importantly of all, James wants to see himself move past this too, and I believe in him. He knew that the Dryponies could move past Prideheart's pain and so he must know that he can grow past his own as well. And as long as he can believe in the idea of hope in the absence of known hope, then we can believe in him and support him, and friendship will overcome.

Your faithful student,
Twilight Sparkle

With a whiz and a snap the parchment was rolled up, bound, and sealed. She plopped it back on the table while she plunked the quill in its inkwell. With a contented nod she turned and ambled over to the waiting device, passing through the beams of clear sunlight that streamed in through the windows as she went. Somehow it was quaintly more fitting that they pick this demonstration up again on a day that wasn't quite so rainy.

END PART TWO

Chapter 1: Awake

Each ray of the glowing sun drizzled over the leaves of the tree tops, cascading their warmth downwards like the slow flow of golden honey. Every gentle breeze which passed through shook the branches, dancing the shadows they cast and rousing the trees to life with a contented sigh. The cool air mixed well with the soft heat, leaving the buoyant rush of a refreshing, early summer. It was a gorgeous day. The kind of day where the tickle of the grass is just so inviting, and the slow drift of the clouds is just so hypnotic, and each tune of the songbirds is a lullaby... a day where tumbling down and taking a nap on the bare earth couldn't seem more perfect. It was almost ethereal.

A yard of vibrant grass was dotted with a dozen thick oak trees, the branches of their crowns reaching into the sky. Each treetop was full with leaves, lush and beautiful, spread out like canopies above a fairground. A simple, open asphalt lane wound around the west and south side of the clearing, and the remaining sides were naturally fenced by a sparse, spacious forest. There was an ever so slight slope to the lawn which suddenly picked up its descent towards the southeast edge.

Placed in the center of it all was a two story house. A homey home if ever there was one, the windows were happy, shuttered eyes and there were rows of lively plant beds that ran around the foundation. Its broad, wooden paneling was a courageous red and their hard, dry appearance was all that kept the texture from looking as full and ripe as a cherry. Notes of habitation were sprinkled about the yard, hints of a carefree season: a full clothesline, an empty yet timidly swaying hammock hung between two trees, and a lawnmower abandoned amid half-cut grass. Around the back of the house, nestled in close to the structure, was a plain wooden deck. Each board was stained and sturdy, and they appeared well worn and slightly bent from standing the tests of time and strain.

Resting in a plastic deck chair placed next to a matching plastic table was James. He wore medium length shorts for the summer warmth and a brightly colored green t-shirt. Slouching at first, he now and again felt out of place or position and so would shuffle back up to a formal, rigid posture which seemed more recent and familiar, but it hardly lasted before he slid downwards again. He also ran his hand through his hair repeatedly but would struggle with grasping at the air beyond its curious shortness; a muscle action mismatched with memory.

Before long the sliding screen door behind him rolled open with a comfortable rattle, a sound worn pleasant over many years. James heard the taps of his guest stepping out onto the creaking wood, leg by leg. One, two... three, four. The screen door slid shut again and in a perky voice the visitor asked, "Care for some lemonade?"

"Oh, yes, please," James responded with a short lift and swing of his arm. In the face of his contented lethargy and the prospect of a fresh glass of lemonade, he hadn't bothered to turn around and take a glance at who was joining him.

There was a pour, the gush of running lemonade into a cup capped off with two clinks from tumbling ice, and then his drink drifted through the air and softly came down on the table besides him. Immediately following his drink was the lemonade pitcher, now less than full, and another cup, both of which plopped to rest on the table without noticeable outside intervention. Then finally James' guest strolled into view. She was coated in violet fur with a deeper, dazzling mane and tail. A horn jutted from her forehead and a starburst design marked her flanks. Instead of being joined by another person of the household, he was being joined by an odd-looking pony. Or unicorn, rather. Stepping up besides the table, she merely sat down where she stood; right on the boards of the deck without need for a chair. Bearing a broad, closed smile, she just took in the pure summer bliss for a few quiet moments before using magic to pour herself some lemonade in the free cup and taking a sip.

"This weather is phenomenal," she suddenly said. "Let's hope it lasts through the week."

"The next rain is scheduled...," but James' words slowed down and he shivered his head with the onset of a murky dissonance. "... Scheduled... You said it was scheduled for tomorrow..." He rubbed the corners of his eyes as the inside of his head pounded for just a brief moment. The table, the deck, and even the whole yard seemed to pound with it, like a heavy plate had crashed against the back of his mind.

"Hm?" the pony chimed, somewhat oblivious to what he had said. Without wave or worry she sipped away at her drink, fixated upon the clement weather and idle breezes.

James corrected his posture yet again, with more focus this time. Stiffening his back and pressing it tight against the chair, he drew a large breath. As the air rushed into him the environment around him began to crystallize into clarity, smoothing out the blurry edges of reality. But still what he saw before him was saturated with surreality: this smiling, quaint creature whose presence was incongruous with the time and place he thought, or rather felt, he was in.

Again the pony spoke up, saying, "If it gets warmer, I think we could probably take a day to go to Waterblast Park. It's not the largest water park, but you don't always want a big crowd for the wave pool, right? Or the river rides. Or any long lines at the water slides." Lightly giggling, she swished the lemonade about in her cup before taking a tremendous swig that she then followed with a quenched sigh. "Spending a little time soaked would just hit the spot!"

Still gazing about, James felt pressured by a hidden force, like there were a hundred obvious discrepancies he should see but were somehow masked by some unknown block of incomprehension in his head. He hardly felt he was in control of himself when he answered automatically, "That park closed down... just a few years ago. A few years after my parents sold this house and moved away..."

"Really?" the pony turned to him in surprise. She looked out about the lawn and the forest, the land still exuding an irrepressible homeliness. "Why did they move?"

"... Property taxes..."

He stood up and paced over to the edge of the deck. With his hands on the rail, he peered out at nothing in particular. The effervescent yet serene haze that had first filled his mind now seemed completely gone, replaced with a stark realness. But a realness that was invaded by something uncomfortable and out of place. Something that could be felt deep, both inside and out. Something that with all his being could be sensed drawing inevitably closer.

Turning back to the pony he briskly asked, "I'm sorry, but who are you?"

All at once cracks burst into his senses. Everything seemed to be intact before him while simultaneously feeling as if it all was tearing apart at the seams. Sudden, new memories rushed forward, spraying invisible light and screaming inaudible noise as they came. His guest opened her mouth to speak but her words shot out like a rumbling echo, "I'm Twilight Sparkle. It's nice to meet you!"

Hardened, cold reality thundered over every aching sense. His sense of self rapidly caught up to him; his body was his own again, with longer hair and a physical build slightly larger than in his late youth. He was sitting, but not in a chair and not in the light. Instead he found that he actually sat upright upon a bed, draped in darkness. The environment wasn't a place of homely familiarity but of becoming familiarity, learned but still new. The moon outside gave little light through the windows raised high on the wall, far off from his bed, but his eyes swiftly focused enough to perceive his surroundings. This was the Ponyville Library, with its grainy wooden floors and walls. Its naturally hewn furniture and decorations. Its tall bookshelves, occupied and numerous even in this back bedchamber. The library was a lot of marvelous, new, and different things. But it wasn't home. Not even a memory of it.

Barely more than two weeks ago James had arrived in the land of Equestria. Unpredictable circumstances, perhaps the indifferent machinations of fate, or the improbable arrangement and uncontrollable collapse of retrospectively bizarre events brought this soldier across the threshold of believable space to a land populated not with any people like himself, but ponies. Wildly colored ponies that talked. Sang. Danced. Farmed. Built homes. Ran shops. Held PTA meetings where they discussed bake sales to pull in extra funds. And ponies who employed magic to accomplish things that seemed at times impossible to him. Into the thick of all this he was thrust, with the circumstances' increasing estrangement from normality only continuing. Orders from the princess of all pony-kind herself had been given to him. Orders to take up residence with one of her students in the library and learn about... well, it wasn't truly clear to him what exactly he was supposed to be doing. Was the amorphous task to figure out how to be the first individual to ever successfully trans-dimensionally emigrate?

Only none of that weighed on him in the immediate moment. The burden shackling him now was simple restlessness. He stroked the back of his neck for awhile and churned through some deep breaths but neither action really brought forth true relaxation. Never in the past had it been too difficult for him to adjust to unfamiliar sleeping surroundings but for several nights now the ready, unbroken comfort needed to drift into an easy sleep was always marred and imperfect in an intangible way.

There were no obvious sources of irritation. The darkened soundscape of the room was flooded by a calm silence. No noises from others in neighboring spaces still up and about their business. No sounds heavier than a cricket came from outside. Not an echo of distant conflict, or a peep of activity, or even the low drone of street traffic. The only noticeable accompaniment to the chorus of quietness was the perfect ticking of a wall clock, the occasional ruffling of feathers (probably from the owl that could be seen around the library from time to time), and the dozing of the others in the room. From his bed's position James could hear the snoozing and snores of his hostess pony and her assistant dragon emanating from the upper level, at the peak of the stairs that curved up the wall. The very same pony, in fact, who had just poured him lemonade in his dream.

After some sedentary minutes, most of the uneasiness left behind by his dream ebbed away. He laid back down with a sigh, shifted a bit in the bed as he corrected his covers, and closed his eyes once more.

With one final slam of Applejack's hooves, the last tree in the southern orchard gave up it payload of apples. Delighted at her haul, full enough to press heartily on the sides of the basket, she paused to savor the sensation that came from a morning's work well spent. Like any morning, the crew of Sweet Apple Acres had risen with the sun to get an early start and labored hard to make timely progress. And their progress today was timely indeed, as the morning wasn't even half spent yet. Mounting the apple basket on her back, Applejack trotted airily back towards the barn.

Her uplifted mood quickly sank away as she caught sight of her brother, Big McIntosh, and his progress, or lack thereof. The mountainous stallion stood before an even more mammoth hay baler, but what most caught Applejack's eye was the lack of any bales of hay in the vicinity. Big Mac had gone off earlier to get his start on that particular task so the absence of any headway after all this time was troubling. He stood by the idle contraption soundlessly, as if he could perhaps stare it into submission. There was nary a movement out of him except for the occasional slow tilt of his head or the gentle swish of the wheat sprig in his mouth as he rolled it from one side to the other. An extraordinarily frustrated pony to be sure, Applejack thought.

"Has that gul-dern lazy waste of scrap gotten on the fritz AGAIN?" she moaned as she laid her apple harvest aside.

"Eeeeyup," was her brother's straight reply.

Approaching the machine herself while sighing, Applejack passed her eyes across it. Not that she had expected to notice anything amiss. There was never anything obviously wrong this massive metal headache, and she wouldn't know what to look for to begin with. "Have ya tried givin' it some tender, loving encouragement?" she asked at last.

"Eeeeyup."

"Well, I'll give it a shot anyway," she expressed curtly. In one smooth motion she whirled about and bucked the machine hard, sending it tilting up backwards with a rattling crash. The baler hovered on its edge for just a second before it fell back onto the ground. It whined and rang with the leftover force of the blow, but it didn't start. The Apple siblings exchanged knowing glances briefly, unsurprised at the result, but both well aware that the aggressive physical maintenance was less about getting the machine to work and more about relieving frustration anyway.

"Ah, figgers...," Applejack griped. "I thought we were gonna make good time today, too. You been working with this the whole time, Big Mac? You didn't get nothing else done?"

The reserved stallion only lowered his head with a steady shake and let out a long, disappointed, "Nnnope."

Applejack turned to inspect the distant horizon, agitated and worried. Far off, the blitzing about of a certain rainbow pegasus could be seen in the sky gathering frightful stormclouds together. Stamping a hoof on the ground, Applejack looked back at the busted baler and snorted, "Great. Won't be long 'til the rain now and we can't have this thing out in that kinda weather, broken or no. Help me drag it into the barn." Grabbing a heavy chain with her teeth, the farm pony tugged at the device while Big Mac threw his weight into it from behind, lifting it up on its wheels and getting traction. With just a few minutes of team effort, they had it sealed away safely behind the barn doors.

"Hmmmmm," Big McIntosh slowly groaned as he gazed over at the stormclouds and thought about the unfinished farmwork ahead.

"I know what you mean, Big Mac," Applejack said. "This is going to set us behind aways. Gotta call the repairpony and have her take a gander. If we hadn't wasted our time with this mechanical malarkey we coulda had all this hay baled our own dang selves before the rain rolled in. Now even if it gets fixed we won't be able to do any baling 'til all the hay dries."

There was one more collective minute of unspoken, still exasperation before Applejack began to dash off. She called back at her brother, "Alright, alright, no more lazing about. Let's get a message to the repairpony quick-like and then back to work. Get what more done that we can before the storm."

Scattered about the library floor was an organized mess of boxes, wires, plugs, metallic bits, bolts of all sizes, papers with diagrams, and baubles of an indiscernible nature. Select items, sometimes whole groups at a time, were lifted up into the air and moved about the room carefully or laid down according to a filing system that existed only in Twilight's head. As the rain spattered against the outside of the library walls, so did a magical storm of pieces and parts blow about inside her room. The unicorn's eyes moved considerately back and forth between pages of directions that hovered in front of her and the cyclone of things whirling through the air. Some parts slide into each other, or screwed tightly to each other, or plugged in together, or snipped or snapped or clicked or clacked together, and then there was the soft folding of paper as a page turned. And then more assembly, and a page turned again. And again, and again.

When at last the tempest came to rest and the remainder of the unused bits were cast aside in a leftover mess, Twilight reviewed what she had constructed. Or nearly constructed maybe, as what had started as a few seemingly obvious steps to take without consulting the written directions eventually turned into entirely skipped steps and missed instructions, and by the end of her labors she had somehow gotten just slightly lost. Still, it was basically complete and she expected there would be time to double-check things fully later. The core of what she had built looked similar to a sturdy telescope mounted on more than one robust tripod. The main tube was exceptionally thick, perhaps capable of hiding a whole pony inside, and along its length sprung wires of different gauges and colors which wound their way back to a central control panel that sat at the base of the device. All over the machine were tightened bolts, sealed hatches, divots, and remarkably tiny antennae and dishes. For now, Twilight was satisfied with what she saw since it resembled both the picture on the box and her memory of when she had it last assembled. She admired it as a complicated but well designed (and expertly put together, of course) piece of equipment, though an untrained eye might see it as some sort of fanciful device, wrought from imagination to simply look overly complicated but otherwise serve no useful function.

Enthusiastic and brimming with anticipation, she made her way out of the room and to the central chamber of the library. Her assistant Spike busied himself with some of the late morning chores, mainly sorting yesterday's books that had to be put away and pulling out books that would be used today. He couldn't much afford to take notice of her as he heaved about stacks of books which were larger than he was. No notice, at least, until she spoke to him.

"Spike, have you seen James?" Twilight asked, visually searching the room. She was somewhat surprised not to find her charge anywhere there. For the past few days he had usually been hanging about that room, reading or taking some time to sit by himself.

A few books began to slip out of formation in the tower of tomes Spike was transporting, the first signs of an imminent collapse. He slowed down and struggled to keep everything aligned as he responded, "I... uh... I think he's outside." One particularly treacherous book near the top of his pile started to lose its grip, releasing an audible scrapping noise as it ground covers with its neighbors.

"Outside?" Twilight glanced over at a nearby window. Rain poured against it, smearing a blur on the glass beyond which could only be seen the dark and overcast sky. "Are you sure?" she questioned her dragon.

"I think. He said he...," Spike tried to answer. There was some hopping on one foot and shuffling of his arms. Desperate attempts by a desperate dragon to stall the teetering disaster. "He said he was going outside, anyway."

Twilight hummed with uncertainty before moving over to the window and bringing her face up to the glass. Sure enough, she saw James standing out in the rain, a few paces away from the library. He had been out there long enough to be drenched but he had chosen to spare the outfit Rarity had fashioned him. Instead he was wearing the white, repurposed table cloth that Princess Celestia has made for him on his first day in Equestria.

"Thanks, Spike," Twilight called out as she made for the front door while she summoned an umbrella hat out of a side closet.

The dragon murmured something back in reply, indistinct and panicked.

Affixing her headgear, Twilight opened the front door and cautiously stepped outside. The rain wasn't pouring down particularly heavily nor was the wind blowing in any terribly nasty way, but it was enough to drown out the sound of a rumbling crash behind her as she shut the door.

By hugging the side of the library, she was able to take advantage of the protection offered by the branches of her dendroid home and stay mostly dry. She slowly crept around the library's enormous trunk and drew as close to James as she could without abandoning her perimeter of dry safety. The man was turned away from her and solemnly observing the sky, so she caught him by surprise when she called out to him.

"James! What are you doing out here?" Twilight inquired. Her voice reverberated with a mix of concern and intrigue.

He half-turned towards her while he wiped some of the water off his face before he guardingly answered, "I don't know. Just wanted to see it, I guess. It's the first rain since I got here."

"I don't imagine it's much different than rain anywhere else," she responded with slight confusion.

"Well... it is," James said. He pointed up towards the sky briefly. "I mean, this was scheduled...? A manufactured storm..." Idle wonder reflected off his eyes. For each raindrop he watched, he pondered about their artificiality. What hoofdiwork went into making every magical tear just right? This storm rained with intent but was a mirror of any storm born by God or nature. It was weird for something to feel so different and so the same.

"Rainfall is set on a semi-regular schedule to hit target quantities-" Twilight reflexively began to explain.

"I know, I know," James interrupted, having in her few words already recognized and remembered the same textbook details she had eagerly expressed to him before. His speech stuttered as he gestured aimlessly at the sky some more. "I mean... it's not natural. Or... it IS, with the way you ponies do it, but it's not... it didn't occur on its own."

"Oh!" Twilight gasped, nodding with sudden understanding. For two weeks she had been conversing with him as regularly as her time would allow but, despite that, she still found it difficult to let go of assumptions that were second nature to her. She wondered for a moment if she would be as curious as he was if she had an opportunity to observe a spontaneously generated storm.

A silence developed between them. James just went back to looking into the sky, and like before he didn't even bother to shield his eyes from the rain. Twilight observed him for a minute or two, though she suspected he couldn't really get a spectacularly precise look at anything with his flooded eyes. She finally asked, "So... is that all? Is everything alright?"

He cleaned his face with his hands again, paused quickly to collect himself, and then gave a light smile back to her. "Sure. I'm fine," he stated. After a moment he added, "Just enjoying it. I like the rain."

Without hesitating, James faced skywards yet again. Because he still didn't lift a finger to protect himself from the storm, every drop that hit ran down his soaked clothes. There were long pauses between his breaths, and each one took in the essence of the rain while expelling some sore part of himself. To Twilight, he seemed in a way to blend him into the storm. A man content to only stand there, just another tree or post in the rain.

"I know everybody usually gets all pessimistic about it," James suddenly said, "and I get that. The sun is gone, and it gets cold, and the brighter, happier colors seem to fade from the world. Birds go quiet and everybody hides away inside leaving the rest of the world... emptier. But... I don't know... I find it kind of refreshing."

Twilight nodded. "Regular rain is part of a healthy ecosystem," she told him. "It's necessary for plants to get the nutrients they need to grow. It replenishes natural sources of water that are needed by animals. It washes and cleans, wiping away some of the old things left behind so that new things can begin. It renews. In a lot of ways it's life itself that falls from the sky. In the end, rain brings life, and a more lively world. It doesn't take it away."

"Right, exactly," James acknowledged, his words ambling. Her elucidation and thoughts were comforting to him, sparing him from some of the struggle to describe his own feelings. But regardless he felt compelled to share more, saying, "Maybe there are times when people- er... when somebody doesn't want to deal with the rain RIGHT NOW because they only feel those things they lose. But I think, if they recognized that they should be in it for the long game, then that rain, and everything it gives, is... something bigger. Something more important than them. No reason to be so bothered by it."

He rested in the storm for awhile longer before he felt a tingle of awkwardness. "I'm sorry," he said apologetically, turning at last to face Twilight directly. "Did you need something? What did you come out here for?"

Now remembering her original purpose, the pony shined as she replied, "Oh, well, we've talked about a lot of different things now, and I remembered just the other day you mentioned how you were interested in technology, and things like that."

"It's what I would have gotten into if I didn't shift gears and go off to training," James clarified.

"Yes. Right. So, though I'm very magically adept I've still had use for some sophisticated equipment from time to time. I pulled one particular device out of storage this morning and it put together." She offered a hoof out to him and invitingly said, "I thought maybe I'd show it to you. Something you might have an easier time interacting with than magic."

"Oh," he let out with intrigue. There was no impulse to vigorously contemplate the proposal, as he was eager to abandon his more oppressive and ruminative thoughts for a time. Instantly he responded, "Sure, I'd like that." He strode over to join Twilight by the dry space under the branches, and once clear of the rainfall he grasped his hair and rung a bowl's worth of water out of it. "I should probably dry up and get changed first," he admitted.

"Plenty of time! Come on!" the unicorn exclaimed.

Together they went back around towards the library door. As they went James was shaking off excess water like a soaked dog but he kept his eyes up towards the sky, absorbing the last bits of refreshment that he could. Twilight caught him staring and, turning her thoughts back some, she mused out loud, "I find it hard to imagine dealing with rain that wouldn't run on a preplanned schedule. I mean, how do you prepare? What happens if you don't get enough? Or too much?"

James shrugged and answered, "You do the best you can with what you get, whether it's what you need or not."

They went back inside. The man hurried off to grab a towel and his well-tailored outfit before heading to the bathroom to dry himself off and change. Meanwhile Twilight lent her assistance to Spike so as to pass the time, greatly reducing the dragon's morning workload and making up for the time that was lost resorting the wreckage of the last failed transport. After a few minutes James returned, looking fresh as a spring breeze in the beige and green clothes Rarity had designed for him. He had also recklessly tied some of his still moist hair back with a rubber band to keep it from clinging so much to his face.

Leaving the little lizard to his duties, the others went to the site of Twilight's earlier constructive frenzy. James' eyes popped when they first entered the room and he saw all the leftover materials from what appeared to him to have been a tinkerer's paradise. He stood no less agape when he beheld the final product of all his friend's work. The long metal tube, the criss-crossed maze of wires, the control panel with its switches and readouts... the first thought to pass through his mind was, Well it... it sure is a thing.

Gesturing out at her puzzling-looking device, Twilight proclaimed, "Here it is. The MagiMax Perceptulator Detectatron." Her hoof swiveled about in the air as she hastily explained, "I mean, that's mostly branding. It's basically a simple, directed magic receptor/analyzer with range limiters, input throttle, and a self-zeroing spell plate. Pretty straightforward really." She flashed a reserved smile, recognizing that perhaps she hadn't quite thought through her presentation before getting on with it.

At length James stood there, nodding his head and rubbing his chin, before he said to Twilight, "Ok... it's a... what?"

She scrambled for a reduced answer. "It's a... kind of... magic... radar, I guess? It picks up the flow of magic energy for a few hundred meters out in the direction you point it, and-"

"And the panel here lists details on everything you've picked up. Okay," he finished for her. James leaned over the control panel in order to study it closely. There were a dozen analog gauges whose labels he couldn't make heads or tails of, and the same could be said for several of the knobs and switches present. Most of the words couldn't be made out because they were some specialized magic jargon or used symbols for unknown units, and what he could read seemed to be stripped of reasonable context. 'Min' and 'Max' were impressed next to some knobs without clarification, 'Warning' sat alone and ominous below a red switch, and so on. He kept his hands clear of the controls, having been taught better than to arbitrarily monkey with complicated equipment that he didn't know how to properly operate. For all he knew the device might unleash a death ray, or turn a princess into a frog, or something, if it was toyed with carelessly.

Seizing upon his interest, Twilight tried to explain the control panel as best she could. Not sharing any common ground with him in magidynamics or spell theory hampered her explanations more than she initially thought it would, but she was able to express some concepts without much difficulty. "This is how you control the scan range," and, "use these to dial in on a signal," and, "you can try and filter out noise with these." It was a crash course which wouldn't let him operate it with any efficiency or towards any specific goal, but if he were to accidentally do something right with it then at least she could reasonably claim credit.

"Why don't I turn it on? It'll be a bit easier to demonstrate how it works then," Twilight offered. James took a step back to give her space as she toggled the on switch with a flick of her hoof.

For all the wires, one might have expected arcs of electricity. For all the tiny light bulbs, one might have expected some colorful flashes. From the sheer size of the contraption, one might have expected a deep hum or whining drone as it ran. But once turned on the machine merely sat still, noiseless and dead.

"There doesn't seem to be any magic in the air today," James commented.

"This isn't right...," Twilight insisted. Rapidly she flipped the on switch back and forth, hoping that the failure to start was just a one-off fluke. When that had no effect on rousing the slumbering apparatus she lit up her horn and began pulling and rearranging wires with abandon, still fluttering the on switch with her hoof. At the same time, the instruction pages came zipping across the room and stopped before her. She complained loudly in-between bursts of instructional recitation, but no action she took corrected whatever was wrong with the machine.

The derailing of the presentation left James in an embarrassing position. Initially he could only stand to the side in sympathetic silence as Twilight desperately tried to resuscitate the dead device. However, as she fiddled with it he came to notice a single change that had occurred since they started. On the right side of the control panel box, down low near the floor, a tiny amber light had come on. It would shine for a second before blinking three times in succession, and then the pattern repeated. Squatting down to scrutinize it, James caught sight of the light's austere label: an exclamation point encased in a triangle, wrapped in a circle, boxed in a square.

Pointing to his find, he told Twilight, "I know I don't have any familiarity with this thing, but this looks like a warning light to me."

"Oh no!" the worried unicorn moaned. She brought the instructions closer to her face and cycled the pages with speed before she came to a stop and read to herself in whispers. Her heart sank and she relayed to James, "Three blinks is an internal hardware failure! It says we should contact a certified repairpony." The instructions were let go and they drifted to the floor with a papery flop. Twilight's whole face fell low with disappointment, certain now that she didn't have the know-how to repair the machine on her own. With it broken, so too was her planned lesson.

James took a seat off to the side where he could get a good look out a nearby window. He shared in the pony's sadness; he didn't have the knowledge to really figure out what practical use the machine could actually serve but he had been excited to see it in operation regardless. Staring through the glass at the falling rain, he said softly, "Well, what now? I didn't have any plans... not that I've been blocking out schedules for my days anyway."

A new vigor came into Twilight suddenly and she pushed out her despondency in one single breath. Perking up, she told him, "Maybe it's not a bad fault. Maybe it's just some silly thing out of place that I wouldn't be able to identify and fix myself. Since we're not going anywhere in this weather, I'll try to get a hold of a repairpony like the instructions suggest. With any luck we can get it fixed quickly and be back to the demonstration before you know it!"

Her upbeat outlook spread quickly across the room and James cheerily agreed to her suggestion.

Chapter 3: Repair

"I don't think it's been cleaned out since the last time I came out here!" Gadget roared. A disappointed anger raced through her and she stared Applejack down with her deep, burning red eyes. "In fact, I'm sure it hasn't! Not even once!"

"Cleaned?!" Applejack spat back.

"Uh, yeah? I even told you last time! Word for word, I said, 'Shreds of hay and flecks of other garbage have been building up inside. You need to clean it out every now and again.'" The memory of her old instructions had crystallized in her mind, serving as ready fuel for her fury by having gone unheeded. She pressed herself right into the farm pony's face, trying somehow to force her point into Applejack through sheer will, and she exclaimed, "I spelled it out for you plain as day! You don't clean it, you risk clogging it up!"

But Applejack wasn't easily intimidated and she stood her ground. Pushing back, she countered, "Now listen here! A shovel shovels and a plow plows, so all I ask is that you fix this contraption so we can go back to having a baler that bales!"

Deeply anxious, Twilight tried to insert herself between them, weakly saying, "Um, excuse me... maybe... maybe if-"

The arguing ponies thrust themselves into each other, each trying to drive the other back with their assertions.

"What do you think I'm trying to do?!" Gadget sarcastically shouted.

"Flap your trap at me and NOT fix it, looks like from here!"

"It's just going to keep happening again and again if I don't fix the source, WHICH IS YOU!"

"I don't go sabotaging it just to hassle you!"

"Oh you don't maintain it like you're supposed to, so what's the difference?!"

Angrily Gadget broke off and returned to the machine. She gripped the engine cover and recklessly tried to wrest it open. Her wild frustration caused her to fail in her first attempt and the baler shook in response. Through her clenched teeth she called aloud, "I suppose when I look in here I'll find nopony has given it a once-over? A little too much to ask that somepony might've gotten out here to check on the engine?"

Applejack huffed, "Well now how should I know?"

"Wind my winch! Because you're the owner!" Gadget moaned in annoyance before she gave the engine cover a sudden, violent yank. It swung open, the hinges let up an ear-piercing creak, and the whole baler rattled as it absorbed the blow. "It's your business to know!"

"Okay, alright," Twilight again tried to intercede, "if we could all just-"

Refusing to let the repairpony have the last word, Applejack stomped up to her and slammed the cover closed in her face. Defiantly the farm pony snarled, "What's your point? Sugar cube, when we were looking at buying it, the salespony wouldn't shut her cotton-pickin' yap about how AY-MAZING it was, and we wouldn't believe our eyes, and she'd be a monkey's auntie if we ever saw a pony bale as fast as it could, and all other manner of hoo-hah!"

"It's a tightly designed machine! It certainly could be a baling miracle if you gave it the fair chance to be!" retorted Gadget.

She harshly nudged Applejack aside and flipped the cover back open. The farm pony prepared to retaliate by smashing it shut again, but both ponies were brought still when James suddenly raised his voice.

He tried to be loud enough to easily drop himself between their aggressive exchange but he deliberately attempted to avoid sounding combative. He certainly didn't want to dump more fuel onto their fire. Towards the farm pony he said, "Applejack, the point is that the machine... is just a machine. It's built to do a job, and it can do that job, but only if it's kept in the shape to do so."

Gesturing to him, Gadget mordantly called out, "Thank you! Somepony paying attention!"

Outnumbered, Applejack looked between her two verbal assailants and scowled. "Hardly worth getting it in the first place if I always have to be lookin' after it," she bitterly complained. "Coulda taken that money and hired an extra hoof instead. A good, hardworking pony'll do their job right, on their own, once they get the know how. That's the Apple way. No always keeping your eyes over their shoulder or babying them into doing nothing. Just good, hard work."

"This baler can be better than any hardworking pony," Gadget insisted. She thrust a hoof into Applejack's nose and said, "Think of it like this: if you didn't keep in shape, you wouldn't be able to carry a quarter-bushel of apples; forget even bucking a tree." Redirecting her hoof to the machine, she continued, "Well, likewise, the baler needs to be kept in shape too, and it needs your help to do that. Then, THEN, it'll churn out bales like a champion. Faster and better than any help you could ever hire!"

Applejack cast a doubtful eye at the repairpony, her attitude no less quarrelsome than before. She responded with dismissal, "Uh-huh. I've heard that style of hogwash before, and it didn't hold no cider. From a couple charlatans touting up their own worthless widget, as I recall."

"Excuse me?!" Gadget fumed, incensed at the insinuation.

"ALRIGHT!" Twilight blared, finally securing the attention of the others. "Alright, alright! Enough! Let's just... everypony calm down... take a step back... breathe a little... (breathe, Twilight, breathe!)... and maybe... maybe we can figure this out without so much... hostility." She gasped for air, halting quickly when she realized her outburst had succeeded in bringing the battle to a standstill.

"Ahem, right, ah," Twilight babbled before she swiftly retook control of herself. Facing the two ponies one at a time, she addressed them with understanding, "Applejack, I realize that you're upset. This unexpected set of circumstances has thrown your whole day out of order and left you behind schedule. And Gadget, I realize that you're also upset because you see how this situation could have been avoided with some proper upkeep."

Each of the ponies nodded at the words which respectively referred to them, acknowledging her assessment of their grievances.

Reaching out to each of them, Twilight concluded, "So, it sounds to me like you two are in the perfect position to help each other out. You just need to set aside your differences and do it."

There was a low groan from the embattled ponies. A whine of unwillingness that accompanied the indirect glances they took at each other.

"Gadget, would you please get started on cleaning it out?" Twilight asked politely. To ensure absolute clarity, she immediately appended, "And, if you could please, try to show Applejack exactly what you are doing?"

The repairpony wavered, a complaint stalling on her trembling lips. She wanted to protest about having had run this course in the past only to have had it fall on deaf ears, but in the end she sighed with a relinquished nod and turned her attention to the disabled device.

From Applejack came only an evasive look. Eyes which questioned the necessity of the unicorn's proposal and begged for another solution. But Twilight forced a sober stare back and Applejack surrendered. As she joined Gadget, she muttered under her breath, "Let's just get this over with."

James leaned his back against the sturdy, red wood of the barn wall. Things had gone from storm to calm rather abruptly by his expectations, and he watched with all the keener interest. Was it a lack of pride to defend? It didn't seem like it; they both held firm to their positions and they obviously still bore their grudges even if they were working towards reconciliation. What of his own past conflicts? What troubles with others had he never let go of because he had found the ramshackle, failing bridge that was their acquaintance to be too unbearable to cross or simply not worth repairing? He had never much dwelled on the regret of those lost connections, but he couldn't see whether that blindness was from anger, disappointment, or some other such emotion. The race to move on had always seemed more important.

He told himself that he would have plunged headlong into exploring the many avenues of thought which were opening up in his head; if he wasn't so caught upon observing these ponies, that is. Instead he secretly delighted in this diversion unfolding before him; this turn away from his more modern thoughts.

Leading Applejack around the baler, Gadget pointed at its mouth, highlighting the various shredded clumps of hay and other debris that were caught inside the chute. "Now, you see all this garbage in here?" she asked. Carefully stretching her head in, she grabbed the largest cluster of hay and ripped it out before dropping it onto the dirt. "All this has to come out. It builds up in there, and eventually when the machine starts up and tries to work its parts, it can't. And if it can't, for even the slightest reason, it stops. So every time you use it, take a good look in there and see how it's doing."

"It's not really going to save me any time if I have to crawl in there and yank things out all the time," Applejack griped as she peered inside. Truthfully, she had never actually looked into the machine, and at seeing it now even she would admit that it seemed tremendously glutted. Not that she would ever speak that thought out loud after the fuss she had just made.

"Well, you don't have to clean it out every single time that you use it," clarified Gadget. "Now and again is fine. Just inspect it every time, keep tabs on it, so you know how it's doing. Grab the big chunks yourself, and get a hold of something that can really blast air to give it a deep cleaning."

Grunting a reluctant acknowledgment, Applejack carefully examined one of the openings, readying herself for her own attempt at hay extraction.

"Watch yourself; there's some blades in there," Gadget warned. However, with those words she almost instantly recognized that she had soared over some important details and held the farm pony back by her tail. "Wait, wait, hold on," she commanded, "over here, I've got to point this out. You see this switch here? This is the safety switch. Now, don't ever go in there without making absolutely sure the safety switch is on. When the switch is up, it blocks the engine from ever starting, so it can't turn on while you're in there. See?" The switch was already enabled, since toggling it was naturally the first that thing Gadget had done when she had started her inspection. In demonstration, the repairpony quickly gave the engine pull cord a go with one perfectly executed yank, but just as she had explained there was no sign nor sound of life. The mechanism sat deader than it had been all morning. "Always, ALWAYS check the switch first, no exceptions," she emphasized emphatically.

"Alright," Applejack nodded, half-heartedly flipping the switch down then up to somehow show some sort of mastery over the lesson. She returned to the opening and cautiously withdrew her first bundle of remnant hay, muttering, "A switch that makes it broken... now I've seen everything."

"What? No," the repairpony objected as she pressed herself alongside Applejack to assist in the cleaning task. "It doesn't 'break' anything! It's a safety switch. It's to save you from accidentally losing a hoof in here. Safety practice makes safety perfect."

As they pulled out more waste, Twilight stepped up and organized their mess, floating the discarded refuse into a neat pile off to the side. She chuckled at Gadget's words. Not from finding them amusing but because she recalled some of those exact words from the repairpony's father. By instinct or design, the focus and direction that the impromptu lesson had taken was very reminiscent of the lessons she had once had under the old stallion. Brimming with all the memories this familiar circumstance brought up, the unicorn extended the wisdom of her old instructor's words, saying, "Safety should always be a very important concern, if not the most important concern, with any high-powered machinery. Any pony with common sense should be careful to guard themselves from the dangerous parts of the machine. And any well-built machine should be careful to guard the ponies using it or servicing it. Like the switch, which is there to protect you from accidental activations and getting baled like... well... hay."

There was another restrained but affirming murmur from Applejack as she continued to pry loose hay out of the inner workings of the device.

"That's very interesting about the start-up check on this baler," Twilight idly mused. Suddenly curious, she asked Gadget, "Does it really... not start if it can figure out that there's too much leftover hay inside?"

Gadget shook off some of the dust and dirt which clung to her and invited Twilight to peek inside. "Well, take a look. There's a lot of precisely timed moving parts in there: chains, wheels, blades, a plunger to move the hay about... more on the other side, too. It's important that all these parts move in synchronization. So, when the baler tries to run it'll give everything a good whirl and if even a single one of them doesn't move like expected or can't move at the right rate then the engine is killed automatically, before it can seriously get going."

Twilight briefly looked inside the machine herself, scanning the internal pieces, before she backed up and just merely paced about the device. She studied it. Her mind deconstructed it, breaking down its assembly and separating its interlocking parts, regressing all the way back to blueprints, and she smiled eagerly as each logical jump lead so perfectly into the next. The instant where her understanding came to absolute completion was obvious to everyone present; she just seemed to pop with excitement. Simply like that, her mind's eye could move freely over the machine, from the widest vista of design down to the tiniest minutia of functionality. It all just worked to her.

"Now that I really think about it," she remarked, "it actually is quite delicate for what is supposed to be a 'heavy-duty' piece of equipment. I mean, it doesn't take much to halt it from working correctly. The Detectatron too! That one little torn piece of metal froze the whole thing."

"'Delicate' maybe isn't the word you're looking for," James replied with a voice rolling in consideration. "I dunno, I mean... I can't say with specifics how these machines work, especially that detector thing... it's just not something I know about. But, they are complex machines." He looked over the baler, his head tilted, but he couldn't quite analyze it like Twilight could. Speaking only from his general understanding, he said, "Like, there's a base of simple principles that they're built upon. Their foundation. And from those principles you build up and up until you get to actual mechanics and function, so... of course if you kick out one of the legs the whole table falls, but that's not the same thing as being delicate."

Gadget danced a hoof along the many exposed pieces of the baler, saying, "Twilight, this thing has quite a bit of force behind it. If there ever was a jam, it could damage its own parts badly. Very, very badly. Making sure it doesn't run in those situations protects the machine! And certainly that helps protect anypony working with it. Dangerous to work with if it's running wild... could get some nasty cuts." Cautiously she moved her hoof along one of the many chains and she gave it a soft pull. The tug just faintly caused the connected pieces on either end to twinge. She followed the sequence of parts along until it came to a bladed wheel which she tapped lightly, nearly pricking herself, while she stared at Twilight with wary eyes, silently speaking of the danger.

Calling back to the other broken device, Gadget mentioned, "As far as the Detectatron goes, it's really the same thing... only different. What if it TRIED to keep working despite the torn lens aligner? Then what happens?"

"Oh, I get it!" Twilight immediately responded. "Then from the outside it appears to work, only it isn't actually working properly. Any results we got would be, at best, obviously wrong and, at worst, seemingly right but actually incorrect."

"Yeah," James nodded, "and a machine that's secretly wrong would be really insidious. That blind trust that goes into a tool... you barely question how it works unless you know better. You don't want to question it! It's just supposed to get the job done. I mean, look at Applejack." His remark elicited yet more indistinct muffling from the farm pony.

Intently taking in the arguments, Twilight pondered over them momentarily before concluding, "So much design, but that just gives it so many more points of failure. I get that 'failing' and 'broken' are different things, and that 'not working' can be an intentional facet of design... but I'd still say that makes these big pieces of equipment rather delicate."

"Well, complicated," James disagreed again.

"Maybe complicated is delicate?" Twilight volunteered.

Withdrawing the last of the large hay clogs, Applejack spat it on the ground before she spewed out at the others, "Complicated my apple-printed hindquarters! Only bought the darn thing so we wouldn't have to handle so much baling ourselves. Just wanted something to make things real simple-like. Something to get the job done, like you said, Beanstalk."

"I can really see how nursing machines wouldn't be for you," giggled Twilight while she swept up the last of the ejected hay. "You're always more than happy to work up a sweat and get your hooves dirty. If there's a well to dig, you'd sooner reach for a shovel than get behind a backhoe."

"Get more of a workout anyway," James laughed, in part from trying to picture one of the ponies making use of a traditional shovel. "Still," he added with some thought, "those kind of things are really on different levels. Like, shovels and backhoes, I mean. What is a shovel? A metal wedge on a stick?"

"The way you mean it, even less. It's a lever," was Gadget's reductive comment.

James snapped his fingers and pointed at the repairpony, latching onto her suggestion instantly. "Right, exactly! They're all mechanical systems. Even the shovel is just part of a simple system: you and it. Where you provide all the power and complexity. But a big machine like this baler, or a backhoe, or whatever... they're way bigger, more intricate systems."

Leaning up against the baler and tapping it with pride, Gadget declared, "They're things of beauty, is what they are. Precisely engineered; the amalgamation of thought, design, and principle; parts working together to sum up to a greater whole, all assembled to achieve some task with exacting specificity." She stood back from the baler and gazed reverently upon it as she said, "Paintings are just colored liquid on paper. This! THIS! This is real art!"

Not even a boisterous jamboree would have hidden Applejack's suppressed, dismissive laughter as she dusted off her hat. "Sure, sugar cube, sure. I'm still gonna have to say this li'l old work of art here was probably a waste of bits. It would of been the smarter choice to hire a pony."

"Waste? No, no, no. This'll definitely save you money in the end," Gadget asserted, "once you actually start taking care of it. No need to pay it a wage like a working pony. Pay for it once, done."

"There's more to consider than just that," Twilight pointed out. Gadget's muzzle wrinkled in regretful consideration as the unicorn lectured, "Aside from the maintenance cost, which in this case might be higher than is typical because this baler hasn't been properly cared for but would still be an ongoing cost in time or money regardless... and aside from the larger economic implications of spreading wealth out to more ponies through work-for-hire... and aside from the social implications of building a network of contacts..." The flood of accessory concerns nearly threw her off course and she had to focus to get back on track. "Uh, anyway, what I meant to say is that hiring a working pony is, quite simply, more versatile than a machine. Even if they couldn't match the baler in baling, there's a lot of other things Applejack could have them do while they're on the job."

"Okay, sure, I can't really argue that one. So I'll give you that point," conceded the repairpony, but there wasn't even a hair of a second between her allowance and her rapid counter, "Consider this, though! You could have a machine bought or built to do just about any individual job that a pony could do. There would be some upfront cost to be sure, but with a little time and smart budgeting you could have a cleanly organized, reliable, mechanical workforce that performs better in each area and, again, saves you the wage cost in the long run."

Again holding in her laughter at the eternal ridiculousness she felt was pouring from Gadget's mouth, Applejack shook her head and said, "I can see your perfect farm is dead like a graveyard; nothing but robots growing fruits and vegetables they couldn't even enjoy."

"I don't know about 'perfect', but it'd certainly be the most efficient," Gadget cockily replied.

"Efficient? In what way?" came back the challenge.

"Uh, output, obviously," Gadget said with slight confusion.

"Ah, that's not all that goes into a good farm!" Applejack affirmed with conviction.

The two arguing ponies started to push into each other once again, but this time the resentment and anger was notable for its absence. Each of the ponies were irrepressible, having something they were determined to say, but shouting out the other no longer seemed important. Whatever it was that had brought them down a notch, James noted that Twilight must have felt it too because she didn't seem nearly as concerned as before.

"Good or not, it's certainly what makes a profitable farm!" Gadget insisted.

"Tarnation! You've got to keep afloat, sure, but then what? What good is a basket-load of extra apples if they're not apples you can be proud of?" the farm pony asked.

Gadget's eyes lit up. She knew she had something insightful to say. "You wouldn't be proud to have the apple supplies to actually keep up with demand during cider season?"

Applejack faltered at first but recovered quickly, confidently stating, "Dang straight I wouldn't be proud if'n they weren't apples that didn't have the real heart and soul we put into all our crop here at Sweet Apple Acres."

"Angle my axle! What does that even mean? An apple is an apple!"

Suddenly just a little bit smarmy, Applejack turned aside and grinned. With a deliberate, if playful, tone she expressed aloud, "Oh, you understand of course, apples are a thing of beauty. Carefully grown; raised with a tender hoof from seed to tree to fruit; bucked at just the perfect time when they're fresh as a spring day, to make sure they're the most crisp, juiciest, and downright succulent little morsels that were ever harvested. Paintings are just some color on paper. But apples? Apples is real art."

Refusing to accept Applejack's logic, Gadget dimly hummed at the clever turnabout.

"Actually, it's worth noting," Twilight interjected, "that in the past a couple of ponies came into town and challenged Applejack's family to a cider squeezing contest with their contraption, the... the Super... Easy Squeezy... Speedy... something." Again she had to steer away from her self-induced befuddlement and she jumped back to her core message, "Anyway, they actually did manage to out-produce the Apple family, but in the end the quality of their cider was sub-par. Even though they squeezed more barrels, everypony preferred the Apple family's cider instead."

Applejack beamed with proud approval, recalling the event herself, but Gadget rocked with uncertainty while rubbing her chin. "I'd say," the hesitant pony finally decided, "that if their cider wasn't as good, all that really means is that they didn't build a good enough machine."

"Pfffbt, oh no, uh uh," the farm pony responded. "Their hunk-a-junk Greasy Squeezy was garbage that couldn't squeeze the suds out of a wet sponge. It lost, we won, end of story."

"Hold on, back up for a second," requested James, who hadn't been able to completely follow their conversation once they started drawing on past events. He directly asked Applejack, "You were in... a cider making contest... and-"

"Some yahoos from out of town came in and tried to show us better with their fancy whatsit, but they weren't up to snuff," she concisely delivered.

"Okay," he replied while he pulled everything together in his head. "Point being that they made more, but worse, cider, right? If so, I'd really have to agree with Gadget on this. Either their Please-a-Squeeze thing wasn't good enough, or maybe they compromised some standards to meet their production schedule, or whatever. The thing is, and I said this before, a machine is just a machine." He tried to gesture meaningfully, as if he could maybe draw out something deeper from the self-evident statement, but it ended up seeming no less circular. Feeling forced to ramble until he stumbled on a hopefully better description, he meandered, "They don't figure things out on their own. They don't... work on things, or try to do things. They only... do. They do whatever it is they've been made to do. And only as well as they've been made. And only as well as they're being operated! So... if there's some failure, it's not REALLY on the machine's part. The failure is on the part of people- ah, the... ponies? The ponies who made it or were using it."

"Yeah," Gadget agreed, saying, "So long as it's maintained, any well-built device is going to be consistent. If it winds up being consistently bad," she peeked towards Applejack, "(and again, if it's also being cared for properly) then that's the fault of the makers or operators."

"That consistency... that's sort of the whole reason you build something like that," James emphasized. "It eliminates those mistakes that can come from human- ah, pony error. If you give a person- agh, I mean- a pony enough time and practice then they can eventually be very, very consistent... but they'll always make occasional mistakes. A well-oiled machine WILL do the same job, the same way, at the same quality, ALWAYS."

"That's true, I suppose. Or at least, that's certainly the idea," Twilight said, holding back some reservation. "But... in example... I happen to believe that there's a difference between hoof-squeezed cider and machine-pressed cider. Even if the Super Squeezing-Cheesing machine hadn't been pushed beyond what it could handle, and ignoring any cider supply problems that would affect their opinions, I think in the big picture many of the citizens of Ponyville would have chosen the Apple family's cider anyway."

James puzzled over her opinion, scratching his head. Swimming in doubt, he told her, "But... there's no difference...? They're the same exact cider if you build the machine right. Duplicate the cider-making scenario as exactly as possible... and then what comes out is literally the same thing!"

"Maybe so," she openly admitted, "but other ponies would still choose the manually made cider. They'd even pay a premium for it."

"That...," he began, but froze up. It all suddenly descended upon him. Free range, organic, fair trade, brand name, and so many other things jumped into his mind. Marketing gimmicks maybe, but maybe not. How many times had he personally passed over the store brand in favor of the brand name? And why? He realized aloud, "That's... absolutely right! Woah. I guess... that perception, itself, makes the difference between them?"

"Wait, what? What difference?" Gadget questioned. "You were right before. They're the same cider. Squeezed differently, but the same cider."

"No," he shook his head, "they're not. I mean, yes, you can test them in a lab, get nine out of ten scientists to agree they have the exact same chemical makeup or whatever, but... if people- agh, PONIES- if ponies value that hand- HOOF-pressed quality, even if it can't be seen or felt objectively... if they value it to the point of paying a premium, then that trait, imagined or not, IS the difference between the two ciders. It becomes a real quality. Real, if intangible. And ignoring that quality wouldn't be smart business."

Slipping closer to him, Twilight said to James in a low voice, "You know, you can just say 'people'? It's understandably a bit of a strange dialect but it's hardly unintelligible. We'll still understand what you're saying."

"Pee-what now?" Applejack asked, mildly taken aback.

"... I'll understand what you're saying anyway," Twilight finished.

Brushing the statements aside, Applejack perked up in sudden realization. She called out to Gadget, "As mighty edifying as all this is, the baler's cleaned out. So... are we done here?"

"Well, it could use a good air blasting to push out the smallest bits, but yeah, it'll probably work now," Gadget guessed, "but let me have a closer look at the engine. Do a round of regular maintenance on it while I'm here anyway."

"Okay, and anything I'm needed for?" the farm pony moaned.

Gadget shrugged ambiguously, stating, "If you want to learn a thing or two. Grapple with the basics on what you should be looking for with regards to signs of trouble." With a smirk, she duly turned her attention to the machine.

Heaving a deep groan, Applejack declined, "No thank you, enough with the learnin' already."

"Oh, I think it's been very interesting!" Twilight admitted. Applejack's disagreement registered plainly with a stiff face and rolling eyes, but when the unicorn glanced over at James she caught him still thoughtfully following along. Again more than happy to see him attentive and active, rather than brooding with the same quiet guardedness which had flooded much of his time since his arrival, she felt a compulsion to try and continue things, if only for a little bit longer. She asked him, "Wouldn't you agree, James?"

He stared back at her loosely, letting up half of a shrug. "Sort of. This whole back and forth makes me think of the Industrial Revolution."

"Revolution?" She drew out the word cautiously.

"A big period of technological development, years and years and years ago, way before my time," he elaborated. "A whole bunch of machines were invented that allowed a huge number of traditionally made things to be produced automatically. Or, more automatically anyway. And on a much larger scale. Sort of like what we've been talking about here. At the time, a lot of... people," he nodded at his word choice, "switched from farming or other crafts to work in the factories that were springing up."

"Oh no, not me!" Applejack hastily testified. Ever inch of her, from tail to hat, wagged with rejection. "I don't care what kind of hay baling, apple squashing, cotton picking, all-in-one whirly-doo's you bring on over, I ain't never leaving this farm for no factory! Or turning it into one! This baler is the last machine for a long while, I say!"

Twilight grinned in amusement at her friend's overflowing, but here wholly unnecessary, dedication. After what happened with the cider squeezing contest there was hardly the threat of being driven off her own farm by an army of machines anytime soon. But it sounded like things had gone differently where James was from. She asked him, "So, they all gave up on their farms?"

"I remember learning that it was mostly a matter of economics," he answered. "Obviously there would still have been the need to grow all the crops, or raise the animals. The factories weren't farm-replacing. And they made a lot of different things; more than just foods. Like textiles, for instance. Industrialists were buying up land and manufacturing goods at a rate way beyond traditional methods." He hesitated before continuing, never completely comfortable with the more gritty details, "So, it gave them a lot of new economic power that let them wedge their way into a huge number of markets and just... buy people out, or force them off their land. Those people had to go somewhere, so a lot went to work at the factories to earn their living."

"I suppose that makes sense in some ways," Twilight told him. "Unable to compete, former artisans might capitalize on their knowledge to try and get employed in a factory. In that setting of industrial expansion, I mean."

"Yeah, that's kind of what happened to some folks," James said, "pushed out, didn't have their own metaphorical cider, or couldn't learn to do something else to get by. But I don't think their previous skills were of much value in the factories."

"Really?" she responded curiously. "I think knowledge of the production process for whatever they make would be useful, or at least stand out on a resume."

He waved his arms to block her from going further off course. "Knowing about the process, or the product it makes, is a different thing than understanding the machines that automate it," he said to her. "Building them or understanding them is usually going to take some specialized mechanical knowledge. No, no, what a factory manager would really want is for their machines to be as easy to use as possible so that they can hire any unskilled laborer to operate them. Less specialized knowledge needed, less to pay the employee. In other words, all the 'knowledgeable parts' of the process should be built into the machine."

"'A matter of economics'," Twilight repeated his words to herself. Then she summarized out loud, "Have the machine do as much as it can because it's reliable and consistent, and somepony is there only to watch and direct as necessary."

James silently affirmed her statement.

The thought stuck in her head however, and the unicorn rambled, "There are some spells that could maybe take things a step further. Getting the hay baler to seek out hay on its own, for instance." But she withdrew the idea instantly, remarking, "Actually, that sort of magic can be difficult to get right without attentively monitoring and adjusting the spell so... I guess it would be the same thing either way. Somepony to watch the machine, or somepony to watch the spell on the machine!"

"No way, no how, not here," Applejack repeated, ever defiant. "Putting good ponies out of their honest work so they can baby-sit machines? No siree!"

"I don't know if it would happen here," James flatly stated, "but when the situation changes so drastically, like the Industrial Revolution, you either adapt or fail. Gotta make ends meet."

"Hm, such drastic changes are not really for everypony though," Twilight opined. "Many ponies' special talents are an integral part of themselves. I don't think Applejack could ever be truly happy without having a apple orchard to buck in her backyard."

Once more James offered a light shrug. "Not for everyone, sure. But what makes you happy isn't all what gets you by. Sometimes you have to do what gets the job done, regardless of how you feel about it. I guess all I can really say is that if there were ever a real need for more apples, and machines could be brought in to do that... you couldn't justify accepting the consequences of holding onto the old farm just for sentimentality, could you?"

Quietly Twilight considered everything, not having an immediate answer that she was comfortable giving with certitude.

But Applejack lacked no such reserve. "Aw, horsefeathers, like a runaway train I could!" she swore. "I'll say again, so everypony take note so it'll always be remembered how it is here at Sweet Apple Acres: I'll eat my hat before I ever let this apple farm turn into an apple factory."

"As a hypothetical, though...," James started to ask.

"As if that could ever be the case!" the indignant farm pony insisted. "If it comes to it, I'll go to the ends of Equestria if I have to in order to bring in the extra hooves who'll get the job done just as well. Don't need no fancy doodads. Their ain't nothing that one of those mechano-whatsits can do that I couldn't live without."

"Oh, now you can't say that with such certainty," the man replied. "There's a lot of really miraculous things that technology can do. I get that maybe there's not the quite the same view here because... maybe magic fills some of that purpose?" He tossed the thought around in his head momentarily. "And maybe I shouldn't be surprised... there's a famous saying that goes something like, 'Sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.'"

Immediately Twilight bounced her head negatively, saying, "While some of the fundamental principles of magic can be likened to the-"

"Drain my ducts, Twilight!" Gadget laughed, pulling back from her inspection. With more chuckles buried under her voice, she continued, "That's not what he's saying. What he's saying is, 'if you don't know how it works, it might as well be magic.'"

"But, magic has a very clearly defined-"

"Not the spirit of the expression, Twilight!" Gadget managed to get out before breaking down in laughter.

Unsure if there was a way to overcome the unicorn's confusion, James apologetically offered, "Maybe it wasn't the best expression to use here. The point was, technology can be made that can do some really incredible things. Things that just... can't be done otherwise. Back home, anyway. There's no magic, but a lot of the inventions that came about could do some really magical things... in the more mystical use of the word."

Trying to cast away some of the more military options from her mind, Twilight sifted through the different things from his world that she remembered him mentioning. This whole transdimensional situation presented an inevitable amount of culture shock and, with his arrival still being recent, a sizable portion of all their dialogues so far had rightly fallen into the category of cultural exchanges. Quite quickly one item came to her mind, particularly for how pervasive it seemed to be where he was from.

Invitingly she asked, "You mean, like the Internet?"

"Yeah, that's a great example actually. Particularly, I think, because it's such a regular part of life that it's completely taken for granted, even though it doesn't take much thinking to stumble upon just how unbelievable and... magical it is, if you get me." His voice diminished, faded with a splash of mundane memories mixed with retroactive, awestruck worship. Does a miracle happening every day make it less of a miracle? The ponies certainly thought nothing of building a raincloud, guiding it into position, organized and synchronized with hundreds of others like it, and casting down their stormy payload on command. Just another storm for just another day. Yet no doubt somewhere you would find a pony who, towards those clouds, had the same special brand of enthusiasm like what Gadget had towards machines. One who saw every drop as the glorious result of a magnificently functioning system. It wasn't really different with technology. In the moment, not much is thought about it when that mail, or picture, or pizza order absolutely has to go out immediately. But it was like the storm. Or even the baler. Maybe it takes one hundred gears and a dozen chains all moving in perfect, purposeful synchronization to chop up and package a bale of hay. It also takes hundreds of wires and dozens of protocols appropriately collaborating to translate and carry that little electronic message or picture around the world just to simply drop it somewhere else.

No longer nose-deep in the machine, Gadget followed James expectantly, drawn in with compounding interest. Catching wind of her attention, he was more than glad to give context and was almost prideful in describing it to her. "Connected computers, basically. Uh... processing, input, output. Put a unit like that in every home, every workplace, everywhere, the world over... then just connect them all together. Anything you can encode as an electrical signal can be passed between them at the speed of light. More or less," he explained.

"So, kind of like a big, elaborate circuit," Gadget guessed. "The biggest, if it would have to reach across town. Or across towns, in the plural."

"Sure. But that's the beauty. So simple in one sense, but so many possibilities in a larger sense. Anything that you can encode as an electrical signal can be transmitted," James reemphasized. "ANYTHING. You want to talk to your dad, you don't need to travel to Canterlot or mail a letter. With cameras that turn what they see into signals and microphones that do the same, you can talk to him from your home to his, in real time, as if he were standing right in front of you."

"Ah, I get you," the observant pony realized. "Yeah, even complicated things, like a film strip, can be reduced to simple expressions, and then those expressions into a signal. Might be a pretty long string of expressions and an even longer signal for some things though! But then that's what the processing components are for, right?" The fundamental concepts came to her obviously, lacking any punch of surprise, but she couldn't pin down a specific image of it being integrated into her society. She likened it more to a thought experiment, and eventually a sort of abstract appreciation spread across her face and she said, "It's clever, and sounds impressive. But I think the thing the really strikes me about it is the staggering scale it would need. Every home, you say? That's a lot of crossed wires and signals."

He groaned, "Not literally every home, but-"

"I imagined. But still!"

"Oh. Yeah," he laughed. "There's diagrams of the wire topography. It's like wrapping the world in a spiderweb. A tangled techno-net caught around everything." With an ounce of a gesture towards the repairpony's work on the baler he commented, "Don't envy whoevers' job it is to do upkeep on that mess."

Twilight had already gotten many stories about this mythical technology from him. It had a tendency to come up from the most ordinary sources: explanations about why he'd never written a traditional letter, or how he'd literally talked frequently to others he hadn't seen in ages, or (most glaringly to her) how he didn't know how to use a library. But in reevaluating it now she started to see what was meant in the adage he had quoted earlier. This Internet was a bit like a fantasy story. Hearing about all that it is and does had that same ethereal feeling that could also come from reading about an imaginary place in a book. The distinction was that somewhere, in some far off place, it was real. Then, the Internet to her... was just like magic was to him, wasn't it? Like the difference between a factory worker minding a machine as opposed to a unicorn channeling a spell over it.

She spoke up, "I don't think I could even begin to imagine how something like that could ever be put together. Especially without magic."

"Ha, I can't imagine how it would be built on any practical level, either," Gadget merrily admitted. "But I see the principles, and they work. Might be tough without any sort of spell module, but I bet if you could discover a way to really refine everything down, compact it all in, it could be done. Probably would be a lot easier with magic, though." Even without an understood implementation it was apparent how immensely she enjoyed the theory of it all.

"Well, there's no-" James began, before dodging out of having to give more extended explanations. He simply tapped his forehead and said, "There's no people with horns. So there was no choice but to build it without magic, really."

"Mmm. If I ever get to traveling again, I think it's something I might like to see!" the repairpony declared to a cool, uncertain reception by James. "I don't know if I'd ever get out as far as... wherever it is you said you were from, but it definitely sounds like something that has to be seen to be believed."

Somewhere along the line Applejack had lost her hold on the conversation, both from the increasingly esoteric details but also from her draining interest. Their words still bombarded her ears but they mostly passed on through, with only a scant few being caught. Her voice was weak and withdrawn when she loosely spoke, saying, "I don't get it... built a fancy mailbox..."

"Any information, Applejack, not just mail," corrected James. "Pictures, or more, of somewhere far away you're planning to visit... connect with other farmers you don't know across Equestria to exchange thoughts on the growing season... get lessons on how to play a musical instrument you've always wanted to play even though there's no teacher in town..." He felt a little overwhelmed trying to describe it all, again mired in all the ways it seemed so regular to him. Leaning forward, he begged the farm pony, "If you could imagine... all the information of a library, all the products of every market, and a link to everybody who cares to share anything at all, just bundled up together into one thing... that's what it is. And it's wherever you are, so you never have to go anywhere to get to it."

She was sure by his confidence that there was something fantastical in his labyrinth of words but she couldn't work together her attention enough to visualize it. The only thing she really got out of all that he had said was that he seemed to be justifying his own lethargy. Blankly, she asked, "So, is that why you're always tucked away in the library? Not used to going out much?"

"What?" he murmured back confounded, and even a tad bit offended.

"Necessity isn't what drives social interaction for most ponies," Twilight said in his defense, but her thought seemed to lose steam as it came out. She flashed back to her life in Canterlot, where she had often walked down its streets with a book in her face, praying not to be noticed, on her way to some place or another as her schedules had demanded. How some days it had been the open air of the city that had been so confining and suffocating, and it had been the many books at her disposal that had expanded her life into free, populated worlds. How maybe her past-self's selective seclusion had been responsible for having never had bumped into somepony she would have actually liked to know, like Gadget. If the choice had ever been solely presented to her, she might not have left Canterlot. There had to have been some iteration of her at the time, certainly with all that pride of being the Princess's personal pupil, that had believed she had everything she would ever need. Meekly she continued, "Maybe there are some ponies who wouldn't find everything they could, or should, if they thought they had everything already...

"But I don't think it would be fair to push that angle harshly, though." She lifted her face back up, reasserting herself. "The negative social implications of rampant technology is certainly something to be aware of, but... well, there's been trouble with magic before, too. Accidents. Worse things, like dark sorcerers. The misuse or outright abuse of magic is a real problem that happens but we don't, and never would, let that stop us from from sharing the many wonderful things magic grants us. There's no reason I can see to deny high technology the same leeway, especially in a place where it's filling a similar role to magic."

James bowed in acceptance. Responsibility of the individual was what he believed, or at least what he had been taught in most areas where he might have been compelled to believe otherwise.

The eyes of the farm pony had drifted off from Twilight and James. It had crept up on her that, although she had intended to return to work sooner, she had let this tangent absorb her for too long. What's more, with the baler's issues finally being addressed, her anger had been waning. It was running the same course as her dying interest in the ongoing conversation, and she was already beginning to chide herself internally for her own perceived laziness.

In turning away from the others, she noticed that Gadget was no longer focusing on the baler. More innocently than suspiciously, Applejack remarked, "I don't see you doing anything there."

"Oh! It looks pretty good," Gadget replied. She had finished her inspection awhile back but had forgotten to give a report, instead being caught in the current of the dialogue. She raced to catch up on her duty, whipping through her words, "A lot better than I expected anyway... guess I was a little too rough at first in judging your treatment of it. You certainly haven't been caring for it like you should but clearly when you actually use it you haven't been pushing it any harder than is proper."

A little surprised, Applejack graciously accepted her words before asking, "So, it's all good now?"

"Just a little test...," mumbled Gadget. The others stood clear as she disabled the safety and steadily gripped the starter cord. She throttled the machine up in one snappy motion. The greasy engine sputtered to life with several loud, sporadic kicks. But after the coughs and gags it settled into rhythm and she listened to it churn away for a few moments before shutting it off. "Should be good for a long while, yeah," she declared.

Applejack uneasily stroked the back of her own neck, struggling to bring forward what she wanted to say to the repairpony. "Listen, sugar cube," she began, "it's been a downright rough day... and I reckon I owe you an apology for my unmannerly behavin' earlier. I wasn't being nothing but honest, but I did say some things stronger than I needed to. So... sorry for being a little ornery before." She looked over the baler one more time, her eyes casting just a tiny bit of blame onto it. "Sometimes these metal monsters get a mite frustrating to work with."

Sympathetic, Gadget replied, "Yeah, yeah I understand. Hey, thanks for the apology. And, for what it's worth..." She turned away partially, trying to mask her embarrassment. "I'm sorry too. For being short with you earlier."

"I still have a lot I have to get done today; make up for lost time and all," Applejack said. Then, quite gently, she asked, "Do you mind, I mean, if it ain't too much trouble, finishing up here anything what needs finishing, giving it another once-over maybe?" Hesitantly she followed up, "And... another day, if you're not too busy, maybe you could come on back and just... go over everything again, in more detail? Make sure I get it down right?"

"Sure. Get in touch later, we'll figure something out," Gadget duly promised.

"Ah, great! Thanks aplenty!" the farm pony smiled with relief.

Equally assuaged, Gadget let out a chipper sigh as she looked at the baler again, determining what more she could do. Her concentration broke suddenly and she nearly shouted, "Oh! Twilight, James! Hey, I've got to finish up here, but then I'll get back to my shop. I'll catch up with you later, with a replacement aligner ready." Her words were laced with the same heavy promise that she had planted in her vow to Applejack.

James returned a wave and a plain, "Thank you," before he pushed off the barn wall, sensing the end.

"Looking forward to it," answered Twilight. The unicorn turned and addressed her other pony friend, "Well, Applejack, I think James and I should be going, then. Unless you'd like any help?" She peeked back at James to search for any sign of objection but he had already escaped into thought and was indifferent.

"Nah, mighty neighborly to offer since it's gonna be a scramble to catch up, but Big Mac and I can manage just fine," Applejack declined. "You go on. It's been swell as ever, Twilight!" Already she seemed to be preparing herself to get back into the swing of things, but she gave a wave to them before her duties completely overtook her. "Thanks for coming 'round! You too, Beanstalk! See y'all another time!"

The others returned the farewell before departing. They walked down the road away from the farm and left the busy ponies to their due tasks, all the workings of the farm now in order, like a machine humming away in serenity.

Chapter 16: Soul

The others let Pinkie Pie sing away to her heart's content. She sat on one side of the cell, close to the bars, and happily belted out a song which followed the Dryponies' melodies though she inserted her own lyrics. Everypony else hoped that so long as their loud and merry friend was grabbing the most attention then maybe Spike's absence would go unnoticed. They clustered together on the other side of their cell, away from Pinkie Pie, and hid the torn vines that used to hold the dragon in the middle of their crowd.

They mostly tended a quiet watch, speaking to each other only in whispers and generally only as they needed to. Twilight kept her pacing going with slow and dreary steps, cycling back and forth in a small line in front of the other ponies. She wasn't pondering over anything in particular or working her mind for solutions; she was just keeping herself calm. The anxious clap of each of her clops was audible to everypony, despite the controlled speed with which she walked. Fluttershy had been exceptionally quiet since her agitated outburst. Whatever was eating away at her continued to do so and she laid low and still, looking inwards, as it consumed her silently. Rarity shuffled in place. Desperately she tried to perform upkeep on her face, mane, and tail. They all suffered from her environment's lack of accommodation for the rightfully beautiful.

"Ugh," the disgusted unicorn spewed as she tried to stroke the dust and dirt out of her tail. "What a terrible place. Filthy, nasty, messy, dirty... bleh..."

Looking about the meager prison and shaking her head, Applejack responded, "It sure ain't home, but it ain't bad. Could be worse."

"It's undignified is what it is," Rarity complained. "How is a classy pony like myself supposed to maintain her elegant beauty in such a dingy place, where she doesn't even have so much as a mirror?" She rubbed her face, feeling the light grime and stains that had accumulated. They might as well have been sticky, oozing slime. "Oooh," she sobbed, "I must be so hideous... I probably look like something the cat dragged in."

"Don't think pampering was their prime concern with this place, Rarity," Applejack tried to support her friend. But she couldn't hold back from sliding in an honest remark, "'Sides, we got more important things to worry about."

Rarity nodded her head. "I know...," she said, shallow and hushed. Fearful concern danced behind her eyes. "... I do hope poor Spike is okay. It would be heartbreaking if he were to get hurt."

Rainbow Dash turned her face and gave Twilight a powerful stare; powerful enough that it stopped the pacing pony in her tracks. The unicorn let out a chilled sigh, exceptionally sorry to again disappoint her friend, and still shook her head no.

Annoyed, the pegasus griped, "The longer we wait, the worse it's likely to get."

"We don't know that," Twilight contended lowly.

"True, we don't," Applejack chimed in, rife with concern, "but don't know otherwise neither. Supposin' they find Spike?"

Though she shivered with worry, her emotions barely on the safe side of calm, Twilight was still in control. "Forcing our way out of here is an action of last resort," she maintained unwaveringly. "We shouldn't do it unless we're absolutely sure we have no other choice and we also have a shot at doing something meaningful before we're likely recaptured. But now that Spike's run off..." She held herself up on her shaky legs but said with solid determination, "I'm worried about them too but we have to risk giving them their chance."

All of the ponies went silent (except Pinkie Pie, the living phonograph) and stewed in the sweltering tension together. After many vacant moments Rainbow Dash picked her head up like she was about to say something. However, her honed alertness caught something in the corner of her eye. She quickly signaled to the others in warning.

The two guardsponies were peeking into the prison hut again, watching the performing Pinkie Pie with undetermined stares. They kept looking between each other and the pink pony, trying and failing to grasp just who this unusual oddball was, and how she could possibly be behaving like that in such circumstances. Then, very unexpectedly, they got up from their posts and stepped inside the room. Coming right up to the bars of the cell besides Pinkie Pie, they sat down and watched her more closely.

The others quickly tried to act casual (for prisoners anyway.) Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and Applejack tightened their formation to look as if they were chatting to each other in murmurs. They slide the severed vines to the back of their arrangement. Twilight renewed her pacing while keeping a sideways eye on the guards. Fluttershy, however, stayed how she was: dismal and silent.

Unlike the rest of them, Pinkie Pie chose to make herself more noticeable. She indulged in having a more attentive audience. She raised her voice higher, hammered her hooves harder, and poured all the more pep and zest into her song. Ultimately her tune was still about fudge sundaes, frosted ice cream cakes, rivers of caramel, deliriously delicious and creamy milkshakes, crunchy cookies, and any other tasty thought that came to her snack-happy mind, but in her own unique way it captured all the power of the Dryponies' music.

The guards kept their eyes entirely on Pinkie Pie. Never once did they notice or even so much as cast a blinking glance at the others. In contrast, most of the rest of the ponies always had their eyes discreetly on the guards. Who knew what these sentries were up to? Or if they'd notice the missing dragon? Or if the pink pony's endless parody of their music would invoke some nasty behavior from them?

At last, Pinkie Pie put the finishing touches on her concluding verse, stretching out the final note while undulating her tongue, and she stamped once with her whole body to punctuate it. She gave a big bow to the guards, like an actor at the end of a stage play.

The mare guard looked at her stallion counterpart, and he looked back at her, and then they both turned and looked blankly at Pinkie Pie.

Suddenly the mare guard said, in a murky tone which was odd yet also polite and unoffended, "That... was nice... but... that's not how the song goes."

"Oh, I know," Pinkie Pie immediately acknowledged, "but I remember the tune a lot better than I remember the words!"

The stallion spoke up and offered a gentle if modestly reserved statement, "You do sing it really well, except for having all the wrong words."

Pinkie Pie threw her head against the cell bars, practically squishing her face between them, and begged excitedly, "Oh, I have an idea! Why don't YOU sing it to me? That way, I can hear how it's supposed to go again and learn the words better!"

The two guards exchanged uncertain and reticent glances once more, hardly seeming amenable to the idea. But rather than wait for their confirmation, Pinkie Pie took it upon herself to get the beat going. She immediately stamped in perfect time and provided a strong backing hum for them to sing to. They squirmed nervously as what should have been the first verse floated by without the slightest vocal contribution from either of them. Measures of humming drifted on like a cold breeze, unaccompanied and hollow.

Pinkie Pie recognized performance anxiety when she saw it. While the guards would have joyously sung along if their voices were lost in the thunder of the Drypony crowd, they were undoubtedly far less eager to be the center of attention. It never once occurred to the cheery pony that some of their reserve could also have come from performing at the behest of their own prisoner. Nevertheless, she was enthusiastic and determined to get them going. She hummed more strongly while she smiled encouragingly, and she even threw out an inviting, "Come on!" between breaths.

Again a full verse of hums passed without support as the guards only darted their eyes about nervously and swallowed their dry breaths. But then, when Pinkie Pie started humming the melody a third time, the stallion guard suddenly opened his mouth. Very, very weakly, but in tune, the words came out:

Ho-hum... ho-hum...
Heartwood fire and blaze begun...

Pinkie Pie was so excited that her stamping became rampant and exuberant, almost getting out of line as her giggles interrupted her humming. Her response caused the stallion to pull back, and he hung his head with some embarrassment. Undeterred and smiling relentlessly, the pink pony kept the sound going and welcomingly encouraged him to give it another try.

One last time, the two guardsponies looked at one another. Then, when the start of the song came around again, both of them gave resigned sighs and opened their mouths. The lyrics eased out slow, low, and steady... but there they were.

Twilight and the others had a hard time believing it. The ponies who were supposed to be standing an unfaltering watch over them... had just joined a singalong with Pinkie Pie? Some of the very same ponies who had ambushed them and captured them? One of whom had thrown themselves aggressively on top of Applejack in order to subdue her? And also the other, who had bounced spectacularly between tree branches to tackle Rainbow Dash out of the sky? They, the Drypony guards, were singing to the hums and stomps of one of their sworn-enemy prisoners? But all doubts aside, indeed, there they were. They sang, warmer and warmer as the song went along, guided by a happy pony who kept spilling out cheerful laughs with every open breath.

Before long, the guards were full-voiced and confident, singing together as if they were in the midst of the Drypony crowd. Chorus after chorus, verse after verse, they went through the entire song, unconsciously picking up their hooves and stamping along to it partway through. When they finished up a complete pass through the whole thing, Pinkie Pie didn't even pause. She kept them going, and they willingly and eagerly started fresh from the beginning, with the very first 'ho-hums.' The pink pony herself threw her own voice in, using the correct words this time. She added a certain mirthful timbre to the heavy sound, causing the song to feel particularly harmonious and complete.

By the time the trio had rolled through two whole runs of the song, they were all entirely at ease. Their singing gave way to laughter and then even basic, friendly conversation. The Drypony guards were a little careful about how they talked to Pinkie Pie, perhaps somewhere in their heads still mindful of their duty, but they were comfortable enough to politely treat her as a friendly stranger in passing.

Even as all this was going on, the rest of the ponies kept up their casual charade. They continued watching the guards with hidden glances and deceptive glimpses, even as they felt completely ignored and unwatched by their supposed sentries. Mostly.

Rarity couldn't keep calm. Somewhere inside she could sense the uneasy pricks of being watched. She couldn't bring herself to ever pick her head up fully and visually search the guards for confirmation; she feared being too overt. She just kept jittering in place and occasionally throwing up a hasty glance at the guards, and all the while she prayed that the mysterious pressure she felt wasn't their suspicious leers (or them noticing how tragically unkempt she had become.)

She had a terrible fright when, during one of her quick peeks, she accidentally locked eyes with the stallion guard, who just happened to be looking at her at the same time. The unicorn froze up, a gasp choking to death in her throat.

But, almost immediately, the guard shyly turned his eyes away. The surprise of his action firmed Rarity up, bringing her back to herself. Leaning in, now unafraid to stare, she studied him a bit more closely. Across his face, upon his cheeks and under his eyes, thin waves of a red blush rose up.

Less then a minute later, she heard him ask Pinkie Pie in voice so bashful it was almost adorable, "So... uh... who's your pretty friend?"

Like a rocket, Rarity blasted off from her crowd of friends and landed by Pinkie Pie's side. With her unending charm and her ladylike nature in full swing, she greeted through the bars, "Why hello there! I'm Rarity! It's such a pleasure!" In her time of dire beauty-impairment, in her age of great aesthetic hardship, in her hour of desperate fawning-need, it was incredible what that little bit of charmed appreciation had been able to do for her.

Twilight had enough sense to immediately take Rarity's former place in the circle of pretend whispers so that the charade would be upheld, but somehow it hardly felt necessary. She and her friends all gazed on in awe at Rarity trading giddy words with the sheepish Drypony.

Applejack mumbled, "Well don't that beat all..."

"Spike?!" James gasped. Seeing the little dragon standing on the balcony just outside the window was one of the last things he had expected. "What are you doing here? How...?"

Spike flashed his claws, twiddling them. "I cut myself free," he simply explained.

James peeked about outside the window, looking quickly and suspiciously at every branch, every visible hut, every wiggling leaf; searching for any prying eye that may have caught a glimpse of the dragon. He shot his arm out and reached down to seize Spike. "Get in here, come on," he called.

Yanking the stealthy lizard in through the window, James set him down upon a long table that rested against the wall. The eclectic menagerie that was spread over the apparent workbench was so unusual that the dragon almost didn't look out of place among it all: plants in various states of being potted, partially carved figurines of Prideheart or other Dryponies, bark-skinned books not fully bound, tiny cups filled to the brim with different colored powders, bundles of feathers of a wild sort, stacked baskets of many varieties of leaves, and more. There were also several large pots, rivaling Spike in size, that held loose collections of varyingly shaped and colored crystals.

Being raised off the floor meant Spike didn't have to crank his chin up so much to look at James. The dragon related openly, "I came to check on you. The others were kind of worried that something might happen to you."

"They what?" The man squinted a little, startled.

"Yeah," Spike reinforced, "they thought that you might get into real trouble when the Dryponies find out you're not whatever it is they think you are."

"Oh. No, I'm fine," James said. He turned and rested his back on the wall, rubbing the side of his neck. He didn't sound convinced of himself at all. Shaking lightly, he mused aloud, "I mean, Willow Wise is insanely stubborn. I straight up told her that I wasn't what she was looking for and she wouldn't buy it."

Spike scratched the side of his head, mumbling, "Uh... that's good news... I guess?"

Folding his arms, James hummed harshly. He had hoped her obstinance would have been a useful thing. Something he could have leveraged to his advantage and used to speak to her openly, whereas Twilight hadn't even been able to get the time of day. But if Willow Wise's stubbornness was so great that it wouldn't allow her to doubt him, maybe it was also too great to let her be steered off the crash course she was on. And who knew if any of that even mattered anymore; the old mare had left in dark spirits. Maybe he had already fallen out of her light and she had gone off to declare to her ponies that he was a false idol before she pushed forward with whatever her plans for Twilight and the others were.

He lifted his head up in realization. "What about you?" he suddenly asked the dragon. "Isn't there going to be trouble when they notice you're gone?"

"I don't think they'll notice, honestly," Spike quipped nonchalantly. He shrugged and continued in befuddled bemusement, "They're so spooked by Twilight and so confused by Pinkie Pie that I don't think anypony ever gave me a second look."

"I hope so," remarked James. He thought for a moment. "And how the others? They're alright?" he worried.

"Yeah," Spike confirmed, mildly hesitant. "We've just been locked up in some hut in the trees, that's all. I mean... Rarity's losing it over how dirty it is and Rainbow Dash can't stand being cooped up, but otherwise they're okay." He shrugged again.

"So they're just waiting up there?" James asked.

"Well, Twilight's considering breaking out, again cause she's worried, but that's why I got out to check," the dragon stated comfortably. "She doesn't want to escape unless she really has to."

"Good, good, she shouldn't," the man nodded. "Glad to hear Rainbow Dash hasn't pushed her into it yet. If they did that it's just going to justify the Dryponies' narrative in their own minds." A pony like Broken Oak was probably waiting for them to provide such ammunition. And what good would a jailbreak do in the end? He idly said, mostly to himself, "Even if Rainbow Dash got away to get a warning out to the Princess, I doubt it would do anything."

Spike tilted his head. "Why is that?"

Because she already knows, James thought. If there was something she thought she could have done herself, she would have already done it. That's why they were here instead. But he refused to speak his mind out loud. He only lowered his head again.

The dragon waited politely for a response that never came. Eventually his tail drooped down, dragging on the table, as the grim despair which hung in the air started to come down upon him. But, gathering all his hopeful strength, he held himself up and tried to push on, saying, "I don't really understand what's got the Dryponies so upset. Why can't they trust us or Princess Celestia?"

"Something really bad happened to Prideheart, their leader, a long time ago. In all the years that they've been isolated since, they've thoroughly convinced themselves that the Princess is at fault and that she's out to get them. And there's enough incidental things going on which, from their perspective, completely back up their twisted beliefs," James moaned with a murky air. His heart sank in his chest. It was such a tragedy. Prideheart's fall had been tragedy. And now, hundreds of years later, his heroic sacrifice was the impetus for more tragedy. It was as if no Drypony was interested in finding a way to put an end to it; to let some kind of healing and closure take place. To move on.

The man gave a despondent sigh, saying, "I don't know what exactly they intend to do but they're going to act to protect themselves... and if they keep on with all their unrelenting anger, they're liable to force Princess Celestia into taking some kind of dire action... all because they refuse to open their eyes."

"So... what do we do?" asked Spike earnestly.

James felt ill and brought his hand up to his mouth, letting upset breaths spread across his palm. "I don't know," he whispered. His despair was boiling; he melted in it, forlorn, before eventually he summarized vainly, "I've been trying to appeal to Willow Wise's sense of logic but... she's so caught up in this story she's built around herself that she won't even try to see the things that are right in front of her face. The story is more important than the real world to her!" It deeply bothered him somehow; his very bones shook and resonated with an almost sympathetic frustration. "I mean, something is CLEARLY VERY WRONG and she won't even acknowledge that! She TRIES to not acknowledge it. There's an excuse for everything! Just so incredibly stubborn... and even in the face of all this darkness and danger she clings to it... Who does something like that?" His body shivered.

Spike grabbed the end of his tail and restlessly massaged it with his claws, looking down. All he could offer was, "Well... we've got to try to do something, right? If this is going to end badly otherwise?"

"I don't know," James echoed, lost. "I feel like the more I push on her, the more I'm earning her distrust. No matter what I say. By trying to do something," he sighed in resignation, "we may only be speeding up the inevitable disaster."

The dragon twisted his grip on his tail hard, obviously upset. But he still fought on, and he innocently suggested in a whisper, "But we can't just do nothing."

Pushing off the wall, James stepped in front of the table and planted his hands on it, leaning into Spike. "But if we make it worse?" he complained. "If we're responsible for pushing it over the edge?"

The little dragon winced with the thought but his innocence was still incorruptible. No matter how disconcerted he was, no matter how open he was to the reality of the situation, he held on to his faith. "I don't think we can just sit back and hope everything goes well because we're scared of doing something," he said, still fiddling with his tail. "And especially now that we're already here and tangled up in it all... aren't we responsible then anyway, if we don't do anything and just let something bad happen?"

The man wobbled, leaning more on the table and shaking his head.

Spike lamented, "I don't really know who these ponies are but I don't want to see anything bad happen to them... or our friends." He dropped his tail and stood tall. Nervous, uncertain, and even frightened, he was still able to courageously say, "It's worth it to try something, instead of regretting doing nothing."

"I don't know what to do..." James heaved.

"Hello? Excuse me, great Walking Desert!" a light and jubilant voice shouted from the hollow archway.

Fumbling and slipping, with his unbalanced legs nearly collapsing beneath him, James shot up and flipped Spike with one smooth motion, dumping the dragon into one of the large, open pots. The fat urn rolled on its bottom rim from the impact as the tall crystals inside jostled with a glassy rattle. Like a top, the man whirled about to face whomever had arrived, catching the table edge with his hands and leaning back upon it to stabilize himself. He fired out in uneven greetings, "Yes, hello, hi, yes, hi!"

Poppy stood in the archway, no longer in the ceremonial dress she had been wearing for the performance. A wooden tray that was piled with food sat on top of the vines which wrapped her small body, effortlessly balanced on the back of the nimble filly. With a queer stare, she watched as the man carefully caught his breath and slowly stood up straight. Without looking back, he placed a steadying hand on the still rocking pot to bring it to a stand still.

Although she was flush with some confusion, it was obvious that most of the filly's hesitation came from a contained excitement. She had the ready trembling of anticipation frolicking through her. Her amber eyes almost glowed as she looked up at the man; this fabled legend that stood before her. A storybook hero, come to her very village! The slowness of her voice didn't betray her dreamy attitude. "Okay...? I... uh... I brought something for you to eat, if you wish."

Spike's addled and clay-coated voice came from the pot, "Yeah, I'm starving."

James coughed heavily to hide the dragon's words as he slapped the pot once. "Uh, excuse me," the man gagged, "I mean, yeah, sure."

Very trepidatiously, Poppy started to approach. She was clearly wary of the man's unusual and clumsy floundering but not out of any suspicion. It seemed like she was more worried that she was intruding on something or bothering him in some way; a child frightened to make a nuisance of themself. Once James was able to settle himself, he gave her a far more inviting look and then she eagerly surged forward. Despite her bounds and skips, the tray on her back never once so much as tilted, kept in expert balance.

Landing before him, she bowed down while she pushed the tray up towards him. "Here you are, great Walking Desert," she humbly offered.

He perused the selection with his eyes; mostly a bounty of vibrant berries from the forest with some different nuts here and there. They were laid out in a spread, swelling with color, and the rich juiciness they exuded awoke his hunger almost immediately.

He was so caught up in imagining the berries' succulent tastes that he countered her naming of him with a completely idle indifference that was greatly removed from his earlier agitation, "My name is James."

The tray shifted and teetered just slightly as Poppy raised her puzzled eyes up. "But... you're the... the great Walking Desert," she said in a stumbling tone.

It was enough of a remark to get James to push the fruity thoughts out of his head. He leaned down a little and gently invited, "Yeah, but call me James."

"But..." There were loose bubbles of sounds that followed but ultimately the filly, timid before an idol, didn't know where she wanted to take her words.

James quickly leaned in further and swiped the tray off of her back, which caused Poppy to pick herself up out of her bow. He dropped the delicious cargo on the table behind him but went straight back into bending steeply towards her.

He looked her over with a bit of a thoughtful hum. Her obvious worship of him didn't quite have the quality of spiritual reverence. He was more super hero than he was fateful destiny. Or actually, it almost felt more intimate than that. Remembrances of the gatherings of his large extended family came to mind. The aunts and uncles would chat away, content to leave the youngest cousins to do as they would... and what they would often do is just latch on to the older cousins and follow their steps without hesitation. A form of idolization that came in the simple package of youthful innocence and familial love.

So, he adopted a bit of his well practiced elder cousin-like mannerisms and asked her very intentionally, "Your name is... Hoppin Poplar, right?"

A great, embarrassed blush raced across the filly's face, so bright that not even her deep brown fur could hide it. The two long bundles of hair that sprung out of her mane seemed to curl down in self-consciousness as she swung her head towards the floor. There was a side of her that was crushed to be addressed by her full name by someone so important, but only in that transient way that seems so momentarily essential, real, and important in the rampant imagination of youth. She mumbled in a wispy voice, pleading like flustered fillies often do, "Just... just Poppy is fine."

"Alright, so," James cleverly intoned as he straightened himself up, "let's make a trade? I'll call you Poppy, and you can call me James."

The little filly picked her head back up, still embarrassed, but she drew out a smile. There was something that felt good about the bargain; something that made her feel tremendously respected. With emerging confidence, she agreed, "Okay... James."

Happy, James gave a smile, nod, and thumbs up all at once in approval.

Immediately reminded of his hunger by a groaning, squishy sensation in his stomach, he turned his head and grabbed a chestnut-sized berry off the tray and popped it into his mouth. A little more tart than he would have expected for the plump juiciness of it but it still had a savoriness that was plenty easy to enjoy. It registered on his face immediately, causing Poppy to beam with pride.

The man plucked several more berries off the tray, gathering them up into his fist. Just before he indulged himself with another one, he recalled that he wasn't the only one here who was hungry. It would only be right for him to share. He turned away from Poppy and pretended to cough into his free fist, using the momentary distraction to drop several berries into Spike's pot. A quiet "thanks" echoed back.

Snacking on a berry or two more himself, James looked backed down at Poppy. The eager filly was still watching him attentively; a face glowing with excitement. She seemed like she was just clamoring for his next words.

He swallowed what he still had in his mouth and leaned back onto the table. "Hey, Poppy...," he called.

She bounced a step forward and her avid smile opened up, thirsting for whatever he was going to say to her.

"Aren't you a little young to be caught up in all this?" the man asked plainly, without the remotest whisper of judgment.

For just a moment, the small filly pulled back with a twinge in her face. She could tell that he wasn't admonishing her; only asking her a question. But it wasn't one that she had ever possibly expected. When she swiftly recovered, she smiled again, closed her eyes, held her head high, thumped her chest with a hoof, and declared confidently, "I'm the youngest Branch Dancer to ever join the Heartwood Guard, cause I'm just that good! I can leap higher and farther than most of the Dancers who are... uh..." Her bold stance quivered a bit, her eyes opened slightly, and the rolling trains of numbers and equations that were crashing into fiery wrecks in her head could be seen right through her peeping slits. "... who are, uh, TWICE my age!"

As she saw James nod to her assertion, it only encouraged her to continue. She carried on, more with boastful pride than with prideful brag, "I can get to the top of the spruces in ten seconds flat! I've made it from one end of Heartwood to the other running a non-stop course without slipping or falling once! I've done more laps through the lake heights than the rest of the Branch Dancers combined! I once dove into the lake from the highest branch and did TWO Quadruple Whirling Rainfall Nightmare Deluxe Spins before hitting the water!" She peeked now and again to check that James was paying attention and taking her exploits in, which he was with great amusement. The exuberant pony pounded her chest again, asserting, "That's why I'm allowed to be in the Guard! I'm the best! Broken Oak says I'm going to lead them one day."

James couldn't keep from chuckling, and he told her in full honesty, "Yeah, I saw some of your acrobatics out there and it was really impressive! I don't know how you get all the height and control and balance that you do but it's pretty amazing!" He sobered up quickly though and then remarked calmly, "But... that's not what I meant when I asked you if you were a little young."

Poppy's confidence slowly drained away into a neutral confusion as she tilted her head and blinked at him.

He asked her instead, "How do you want this all to turn out?"

Again her thoughts could be seen behind her eyes, gears of different sizes with mismatched teeth coming together and trying to turn. As the delay before her answer lengthened, she felt the air grow nervous and stuffy under the man's watch. She suddenly started speaking rapidly but there was a certain vacancy to her voice. "T-The Drypony dream. To meet our destiny. The wicked Sun wants to-"

By the shaky cadence of her words, it felt to James like she was reciting something just for the sake of having an answer, and he cut her off with a wave of his hand. "No, no," he said, "don't worry about the Sun and all that; forget that for just a minute. What do YOU, Poppy, want from all this? What do you want to do?"

There was another thoughtful silence wherein the filly's concentration was in full display. Her eventual answer was more original than the last one but again it lacked something essential and personal. "I... I want to be Prideheart strong and serve the Heartwood Guard...?" She sounded more like she was searching for an answer than giving one.

"Okay," James accepted pleasantly. He straightened himself out for a moment before he redoubled his efforts in trying to be an encouraging, cousin-like figure: he bent his knees to bring himself down closer to her, he softened his voice even as he tried to fill it with a friendly respect, and he kept a warm, closed smile always on his face. To help relate to her, he revealed, "I can definitely understand that. I served in a guard of my own once before."

"You did?!" Poppy lit up and nearly sprang off the ground. Her imagination filled with a hundred quick, made-up stories about the great adventures of the Walking Desert. Or how maybe, since this shared experience brought them closer, she herself could one day grow up into a great Walking Desert too. But just as swiftly as she had whirred to life, a worried doubt rushed into her and she eyed him strangely.

"Not the Sun's guard," the man emphasized to reassure her. "This was before I ever met the Sun. I served with a bunch of other troops, working together and fighting together. So, I know about all that. That unity, and loyalty to each other, and dedication and service. Not wanting to just do your job but wanting to do it right and well. And I bet you'll do good with all that; you seem like the type," he said laudingly, which drew a small smile from the little pony. He continued, pulling an experienced seriousness into his voice, "But... I also had a life beyond that, you know? Like, my service was-... IS a big part of me and how I live, but there was more to me. There still is."

The thoughts were a bit too big for Poppy to follow. But she clearly wanted to. She stood still and stared, her eyes asking him to try something else.

"Have you ever wondered what's outside the forest?" he tried.

"The... the Sunpony village...?" Again her response was caught between question and answer.

"No, further than that," he said, waving his arm towards some far off horizon. "Ever wondered what's behind those giant mountains you can see when you peek out of the forest?" The details from Twilight's books rushed into his head: encyclopedic articles about different places around Equestria, snippets of stories and histories from the world over, little crumbs of the far-off actual which tempted the imagination. He was almost awestruck himself as he told her, "There's whole other forests, wild and free. There's thunderous waterfalls taller than these trees. There's oceans bigger than the mountains. There's towns with more ponies than you can count; each one of them different. There's farms with endless orchards of apple trees. There's castles with towers and courtyards. There's cities in the clouds! They're out there. Don't you want to explore some of that? To see more than what's here?"

Ponderous silence again. Then, the most genuine answer yet came from the little filly. "I didn't know there was anything like that out there. I... never thought about it before," she whispered slowly.

"Don't you have a dream of your own, beyond the Drypony dream?" asked James.

Poppy withdrew into herself for another round of mental gymnastics, but she was far more agile with her body than her mind. She eventually looked back up at him with a blank stare and shook her head slowly. Almost sadly, even.

It was the expected answer but the amount of sympathy that stung the man surprised him. He could relate. The roles had, in fact, been reversed when he had talked with Princess Celestia about much the same thing. He had admitted to the Princess about having no real thoughts of a life beyond the now. Even his commitment to the military had been, in some small way, driven from a lack of better things to do. The world had simply caught on fire and signing up had seemed to be the thing to do in that moment, since nothing else of significance had been going on.

This filly could spend her whole life in this forest village. True that she would walk a noble path of service while here, but was that it? Could she have no more? Would she just grow into an old nag with one single story on life, like Willow Wise?

Even if she was a little pony from a culture he didn't fully understand; someone he would probably never know well and maybe even never meet again once this was all over... she was still someone so young and full of potential, and he wanted something more for her than the limited path she was walking right now. Something more than he had given himself. He wanted her to dream.

The long silence seemed burdensome to Poppy, who started to shuffle uncomfortably.

James didn't quite know how to follow up. He couldn't give her an answer for something he had never discovered himself. Then, from some shadowed corner of his mind he was suddenly dealt images of fresh, recent faces: Twilight, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, and the others. He saw them at the party they had for him, gathered in a circle and sharing themselves with him as he shared with them.

Slightly wistful, the man asked Poppy, "What do you think of those ponies who came in with me?"

This time there was no doubt in the filly. She frowned and spat, "They're filthy Sun-kissers. They came into our forest to try and do the wicked Sun's work. I hope they get what they deserve!"

It was a dismal and disappointing answer, particularly because of the sincerity that spilled from the little pony. But James still felt that ringing element of memorization and recitation in her words; something produced from blind practice.

To carry her along, he put some mock woundedness into his voice and said, "But they're my friends."

Poppy immediately became guilty and tried to apologize, saying, "Well, I didn't mean- uh..." She suddenly struggled with the dissonance that crashed into her. Her mouth kept opening like she wanted to speak but the only breaths that came out were empty, choked with her fear of upsetting him. In her entire short life she had literally never come across a single individual who had ever opposed her on this matter and she hardly understood the feelings she was having, let alone how to handle them.

She looked to James, as if he might provide some answer for her, or perhaps she hoped that he might take back what he said with some kind of "just kidding," or that he might do anything to resolve her conflicted feelings. But this was her time to grow... at least, just a little bit. He nodded with evident concession and confirmed, "Yeah. They're my friends."

"But... but... the Sun... must have... I mean, you..." As she tried to create an excuse of her own to clear her feelings, she turned her head away. She hoped that not facing him directly might make it easier to tell him something that she didn't necessarily believe.

James had to turn his face askew also, but only because he found Poppy's attempts to mimic Willow Wise's excuse generation so endearing. She was still young enough to have not built up a practiced emotional avoidance, nor was wielding innocent lies or shady half-truths a comfortable exercise for her yet. He kept his head turned until he could clear himself up, not wanting to take the filly out of the moment by suddenly chuckling.

When he faced her directly again, she was still babbling incomplete phrases and partial words. Very gently, James brought his hand to her head and guided her back so she was looking at him again. He told her, "No, no. The Sun WAS how I met them but she was barely involved with us becoming friends. You know that unicorn? The one you slipped that horn-cap thing on to?"

Poppy nodded.

"Well, SHE was the one ordered by the Sun to look after me. But that was it. And that wasn't what made her my friend. She's my friend because..." The man had to stop for a moment. He knew how he was going to continue; he was just almost frightened by how spontaneously it had come to him. "... because she's smart, mature, and fun to talk to, and... she cared about me when she didn't really have to. And when it wasn't easy to."

The filly's head wiggled as if his words were a worm crawling into her ear. The idea of a storied enemy as an individual, with friendly traits, a unique and dynamic personality, and a life of their own, was a very new concept for her.

Wanting to continue with those thoughts, James gripped his shirt and stretched it out. "You see this?" he asked.

"Yeah," Poppy replied. There was a tiny squeak of intrigue in the lone word; something about the finely-made clothing he wore was appreciable and nearly envy-worthy to her.

"Well, the other unicorn, with the purple mane... she made this for me," he revealed. "This is what she does. She sews together stuff like this." He couldn't even take a beat to pause. More and more he felt a solace filling up in himself as he charged on, "And the pink pony, the one who acts really silly? She threw me a party once. And the fast one with the wings, and the strong one in the hat? We played some games together at it."

Different pictures filled Poppy's head of the enemy's world. Pictures with ponies in dresses and clothes, who attended parties and played games. It was so different... yet so normal. "That's... what they do?" she questioned herself.

"They're just my little pony friends," the man reinforced, nodding to himself. He placed a finger just shy of the filly's nose, and the way it pushed on the air tickled her slightly, giving her a free giggle and a smile. "Ponies just like you," he expressed earnestly to her. "Even the Sun is just a pony."

"She is?" All on her own, Poppy was moving past her lightheaded confusion and now she lapped up the information.

"Yeah. She certainly has her own kind of magic and important things to do, but she's just a pony," James reiterated. "Do you know the Sun's name?"

"... no?"

"It's Princess Celestia."

Poppy repeated the name to herself with a inward wonder. She had, in fact, heard it before, but she had never had anything to attach it to.

"You know," James began in realization, "I noticed you Dryponies always call her the wicked Sun... but I bet she's just like you and me, Poppy." Somewhere inside he was struggling with himself about just how much he could feel like a magical pony princess. But he could in some ways, couldn't he? "She probably prefers to be called by a specific name, too. Her name."

The little filly squirmed in agitation, feeling the implications of rudeness that he was laying out. But it was one thing if the Walking Desert wanted a different name; the wicked Sun was the wicked Sun and didn't deserve such respect... right? Again, the tiny, incomplete Willow Wise in her arose to sputter words, "But... but she... and betrayed... and... and... and Prideheart..."

James remembered his meeting with the Princess. When she had tried to be the elder cousin to his lost child. When she had spoken of her attachments. When she had pulled out her scrapbook of dear ponies. When she stoically moaned of ponies lost and eagerly wished for ponies yet to come. He suddenly said to Poppy, trying to believe it himself, "You know what I think? I think... she really misses Prideheart."

The filly's eyes widened as she gave up a dry, awed whisper of, "What?"

He pointed around the room, saying, "You've got all these paintings and carvings of him here, because he was such a great pony and you really miss him right? You want to remember him, and all his good deeds, and his tremendous honor, and all the wonderful things about him."

Poppy bobbed her head in passive agreement, and she automatically brought out another bit of memorized minutia, singing softly, "Prideheart hero, stronger than light, humble and low, courageous might..."

"Mhmm. And the Princess likes to remember the ponies she misses in the same way," he said. "In her castle she keeps lots of pictures and statues of all the ponies she misses. And because she's lived for a very long time (remember, she was around in Prideheart's day,) she has A LOT of pictures and things now." Her thick scrapbook came to mind. How many more books on the shelf that had been behind her were just collected memories? He saw the expansive castle gardens and the statues within it; frozen memories of ponies past. Ponies; individuals that she had known once: the stargazer, the wizard, the musician, the acrobat sisters, the- !

"In fact!" James started, laughing with joy. He had THOUGHT that the Princess missed Prideheart. That had been his guess. But now he knew. HE KNEW. "In fact, in her garden she has a statue of Prideheart facing down the dragon! Just like you Dryponies remember in your song and performance. He's there in stone; strong, noble, dignified, proud, valiant, unafraid... that's how she likes to remember Prideheart."

A long silence followed. Poppy glanced about as different feelings filled her. Sometimes the confusion rose up, other times a smile of happiness creeped upon the corners of her mouth, and other times mists of wonder danced in her eyes. When the strongest of them all finally settled in her, she became almost upset and looked up at James. "But... why?" she asked.

"Why do you think?" he responded.

She was still for a moment. All she could think to reply with was what she had heard before and she repeated James in another half-question, "Because... she misses him?"

As much as he wanted an ally in the Dryponies, he didn't want to force an authority over her. He didn't want to replace her Drypony culture with some conceptions that he had selected himself. He didn't want this encounter to be some trick over her to play to his advantage. She needed to feel this out and decide it for herself, not have it dictated to her by him. So, he offered, "Wouldn't it be great to ask Princess Celestia why?"

The little filly looked down, pondering it for herself.

She didn't have long, though. Loud voices suddenly rose up from outside, accompanied by rushed clops and swishing branches. It was a clamor which exploded all at once; some kind of chaos with a frantic order trying to rein it in.

James got up and briskly stepped outside, looking down over Heartwood from the balcony. Dryponies were racing across the concourse to trees with climbable steps. Branch Dancers helped them along before they soared off into the heights themselves. They were all shouting to each other and out into the trees, relaying some kind of message. Most every pony was trying to get off the ground. Only Broken Oak and a few other stern looking Dryponies remained. The large and commanding pony was pacing in front of them; laying down firm and quick instructions; formulating some kind of fast plan like a squad getting ready to respond to a sudden emergency.

Since Poppy had followed the man out and was now also observing the commotion, James asked her, "What's going on?"

Listening intently to the shouts, she relayed to him with some worry, "More predators have wandered into Heartwood!" However, she looked down at Broken Oak taking charge and she immediately felt soothed. She said with better confidence, "It's okay, though. We can just hide up here. Broken Oak will take care of them."

She turned to look up at James with a smile but it quickly fell away. She saw that her words didn't assuage his worries at all.

"He'll 'take care' of them?" the man nervously questioned.

Completely unsure what was bothering him, the little filly grew more nervous herself. "Yeah... he'll do what he has to," she answered trepidatiously.

James didn't know what exactly she meant by that but his imagination had one particular answer. On the one hand he didn't know why he was so worked up about it; give him a gun and he'd do what needed to be done also. But on the other hand, he saw pleading cyan eyes in his mind's eye, and a distraught, heartbroken yellow face.

He felt an especially sharp stab of panic when Poppy then mumbled, "I hope nopony gets hurt this time..."

"... 'this time?'"

He shivered a took a step back before he suddenly turned about and raced inside. "Spike! SPIKE!"

The dragon popped his head out of his pot just as James got to the table. His green frills quivered with a steep alertness and his eyes were sharp. Even uninformed, he could feel the critical sense of crisis that pervaded the situation and he was ready to do anything asked of him.

James grabbed the dragon and pulled him out, setting him down on the table. "Spike, you have to get back up to the others and get Fluttershy out!" he pleaded.

Spike's eyes rolled away and he scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. "Oh, I don't know if... uh... well... the thing is...," he sputtered, "... getting down here involved, uh... a lot more... falling... than I thought it would, aheh... Oops?"

Despair clawed up at James, tangling around his legs, ready to pull him under. But it was quickly overwhelmed by a completely different feeling of panic when he saw Spike's eyes suddenly look beyond him and pop.

The man whirled about to see Poppy staring at them both, aghast. Trembling in body and voice, James started to ramble, "P-Poppy, it's okay! I can explain! I can expl-"

It was like he was struck by lightning. Spike's awkward explanation for why his trip was one-way; the agile filly before him; the leaf wrapping a twig that was her cutie mark, practically jumping off of her flank...

He stepped forward and dropped to his knees in front of Poppy, placing his hands about her small shoulders. She stared back at him with undecided doubt and uncertain apprehension. Steadying his voice, he said to her slowly and strongly, "Poppy, listen. Fluttershy, one of my friends, the yellow pegasus... She works with animals. That's what she does. If we can get her out, she can take care of this without ANY PONY getting hurt. Do you understand?" He nodded his head back towards the dragon but he never broke his eyes away from Poppy's, and he asked, "Can you PLEASE help Spike here get back up so he can get her out?"

The filly's jaw wobbled slightly with a numb movement but there were no words that came out; not in opposition or promise.

"PLEASE, Poppy," James begged again, "we just want to help!"

Spike added in, full of encouraging cheer, "I'm a nice dragon, honest!"

James felt a warmness come into the filly through her shoulders, but she suddenly looked away with nervous reserve. She rubbed her legs together in agitation.

For a moment James was frightened that instead of having won her over he had scared her away, but then he quickly recognized her behavior. It was that of a child hiding a secret. One holding on to a fib that they're suddenly uncomfortable keeping. "What? What's the matter? It's okay, you can tell me," he asked gently, trying to coax it out of her.

"W-well...," she stuttered, still jiggling her legs timidly, "Lady Willow asked me to come up here to... to keep an eye on you... and..." She hung her head down and frowned sadly, unable to go on with her explanation.

But it told James everything he needed to know. He rubbed her shoulders reassuringly. "It's okay, I understand," he consoled her. "And listen, I don't want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable or get you into trouble, okay? But..." He shook her lightly to get her to pick up her head and look at him again. "But... I REALLY want to make sure that no pony gets hurt! I PROMISE that we're just trying to do the right thing, okay? If it helps, when you get Spike up there you can make sure he only lets out my yellow friend, alright?" James looked to Spike for confirmation.

The dragon laid a claw over his heart and put his other up in the air, swearing to Poppy, "Only Fluttershy. On my honor."

The little filly trembled, weighting everything. But slowly, bit by bit, a calm came into her. She gazed deeply into James as he gave a beseeching smile, and at last she said, "... Okay, James."

"Good, good! Thank you, Poppy!" On impulse the man pulled her in for a hug. It surprised her at first, but the sheer energy and spontaneity of the act got her to giggle, bringing a great smile to her face. When he released her, he breathed, "Now go! As quick as you can!" As a last bit of encouragement, he gave her a sly smile and remarked, "Speed isn't going to be a problem, is it?"

The silly quip drove the last crumbs of hesitation out of the spry filly and she boldly declared, "Not for the best Branch Dancer in the Heartwood Guard!" She blasted off, rushing towards the window and commanding, "This way, mister dragon!" Popping off the floor, she flipped through the air perfectly, straight out the window.

"H-hey, wait for me!" Spike called. He took a leap from the table and just barely managed to grasp the edge of the window. As he kicked and struggled to get over, James grasped his tail and flung him through with a flick of the wrist.

The man looked back towards the entry archway, the sound of the crash behind him all but silent to his ears. Whatever was about to happen, he needed to make sure that Poppy and Spike had enough time to get Fluttershy free first.