Reconstruction

He finished his sandwiches. He turned back to his prisoner.

“Discord. Please let it go.”

“It’s an insect. Fluttershy. It has no feelings.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know what it feels.”

“Do you want me to ask it. I can turn into a butterfly.”

“Could you really talk to it.”

“I could.”

“Oh. I’d love to talk to a butterfly. What do you think it would say.”

“Let’s find out.”

He turned into a butterfly. He floated to the butterfly he had trapped in a bubble. Nothing happened. He turned back. “It says it doesn’t mind.”

“I don’t believe you. What creature would enjoy being trapped in a bubble.”

“He says it’s a nice distraction from the bustling butterfly life. Like a vacation getaway.”

“Inside a bubble.”

“Like a vacation getaway inside a bubble. You should try it. I could help.”

“No. Thank you.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Let it go.”

“Fine.” He let it go. The butterfly floated to her and landed on her snout.

“That tickles.” It flew away. “See. He thanked me for telling you to let him out.”

“He was attacking you because you ruined his vacation.”

“You’re being silly.”

“I’m glad you noticed.”

They laid down on the blanket and looked at the clouds. She pointed. “That’s a kitten.”

“That’s a cloud. Fluttershy.”

“You know what I mean. It looks like a kitten.”

“No it doesn’t.” The cloud changed shape. It looked like a realistic kitten. “Now it does.”

“It sorta looked like one before.”

“And that one sorta looks like a dog.” A cloud changed into a dog. The dog started barking. The cat ran away. The dog chased it.

“Discord. Make it stop.”

“But I’m enjoying the show.”

“It’s scaring the cat.”

“It’s a cloud. Fluttershy. It’s not even an animal.”

“I still don’t like it. Make it stop.”

“Do I have to.”

“Yes. Please. Make it stop.”

“What do I get in return.”

“I’ll bake you those cookies you love so much. Just. Please. Make it stop.”

He slouched in his chair. “I thought you said they were ready.”

“They are.” She came in from the kitchen. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“I’ve starved myself for three weeks in preparation.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“What do you mean.”

“I saw you steal an apple from Applejack and eat it.”

“If it comes off the tree it’s not stealing.”

“It’s not your tree.”

“You can’t own a tree.”

She set the cookies on the table. “I tried something different this time.”

He put one in his mouth and chewed. “It tastes sweeter.”

“I put some apple in it.”

“Apples in cookies. That’s delightfully chaotic. Fluttershy. You’re really starting to see the bright side of disorder.”

“It’s not disorder. It’s just a new recipe.”

“Either way. It’s very good. My compliments to the chef.”

She giggled. “The apples came from those trees the vampire fruit bats had attacked. I told Applejack they’d be helpful.”

“Why. Are they better than regular apples.”

“You tell me. You steal them all the time.”

“No I don’t.”

“Yes you do.”

“Alright. You got me. Just call Celestia and have her lock me away.”

“I’m not going to tell on you.”

“I thought you ponies loved justice.”

“I’m not going to tell on you.”

“You ponies should have just called me. Just because I was out of town doesn’t mean I couldn’t have come back. I could have taken care of those bats.”

She took a cookie. “What do you mean.”

“If they really were threatening to destroy the farm. I’m sure I could have obliterated them all with a snap of my finger.”

“You would have killed them.” She stopped eating.

“Better they die by my hand than the ponies by starvation. I mean. With no ponies. I would have no playthings.”

“I don’t like you talking about killing them. Discord. It’s not something to take lightly.”

“What. Death.”

“Yes. That.”

“Everything dies.”

“I don’t like to think about it.”

“Why not.”

“Death is. Unnatural.”

“No it’s not. It’s the most natural thing in the world. Death is a part of life.”

“I thought chaos was the most natural thing in the world.”

“Under Celestia. Good chaos is a rarity.”

“I don’t like to think about death.”

“Does it scare you.”

“Yes.”

“Big surprise.”

“I don’t really want to die.”

“I’m sorry to say. But you will. Everypony will.”

“Stop it.”

“You will die. Your friends will die.”

“Discord. Stop.”

“Everypony in Ponyville. Everypony is going to die. Everypony in Equestria.”

“Stop. Stop. Please.”

“All of your animal friends. Harry the bear. Angel Bunny. Also Spike. All of them are going to die.”

“Discord. Please. Stop. Please. Please. You’re upsetting me.” She cried.

“Fluttershy. Stop it.”

She kept crying.

“Please don’t cry. Please don’t.”

She kept crying.

“If it makes you feel any better. I wish I were like you.”

She kept crying. “You do. Why. Dying is the most horrible thing a pony can go through.”

“There’s something worse. Though.”

She kept crying. “What could be worse than a pony going away forever.”

“A pony staying around forever.”

She kept crying. “How would that be bad. You would never have to leave your friends.”

“Imagine if you couldn’t die. But everypony around you could.”

She stopped crying. “Discord.”

“Imagine if your friends could die. And it would seem like the blink of an eye to you.”

“Discord.”

“Imagine if you had to spend each and every day trying not to think about your friends dying. Especially when they’re the only friends you have.”

“Discord. What are you saying.”

“I would much rather be able to die. I used to think being immortal was a blessing. But it’s more of a curse. Now that I have friends.”

She hugged him tight. “So they are your friends. Then.”

“I suppose they are. They still get on my nerves. Though.”

“Discord. I don’t want you to think about us dying.”

“I mostly think about you.”

“I don’t want you to think about me dying.”

“But you will. And I’ll have to see it.”

“That won’t be for a long time.”

“You know. You don’t really have to die.”

“What do you mean.”

“I could make sure you never die.”

“You can make me immortal.”

“Yes. It would be simple.”

“Discord. As much as I’m afraid of dying. I don’t want you to make me immortal.”

“Why. I thought nothing was worse than death. You said being immortal would be oh. So. Grand.”

“I know what I said. But it doesn’t feel right.”

“Typical for you ponies. Always sending irritating mixed messages.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So it’s final. Then. You won’t let me make you immortal.”

“Yes. It’s final.”

“Fine. Have it your way. Your selfish way.”

“How am I being selfish.”

“You’re going to deprive me of your presence.”

“Would that really be so bad.”

“Fluttershy. What are you talking about.”

“I’m just thinking out loud.”

“How could I go the rest of eternity without my favorite plaything.”

“I don’t like it when you call me that.”

“My favorite puppet. Then.”

“That’s not much better.”

“Would you prefer ‘meat plushie’.”

“Can’t you just call me a friend.”

“I could.”

“Do it then.”

“Must I?”

“Yes.”

“Why.”

“I’ll hold my breath until you do.”

“You’ll hold your breath until you pass out.”

“Here I go.”

“Fine. When you wake up. You’ll be greeted with some fine chaos. You won’t even believe how chaotic this place is about to get. Fluttershy. Fluttershy. You know that doesn’t work. Right. No creature would survive if it could purposefully kill itself so easily. Fluttershy. Alright. Fine. You win.”

“Then say it.”

“I don’t want to lose my best friend.”

“Was that really so hard.”

“I don’t like you sometimes.”

“Eat your cookies.”

“Is the conversation about death over. Then.”

“Yes. Let’s talk about something else.”

“Like these chairs. I keep telling you. You need to get some comfier chairs. Fluttershy.”

“These chairs are so plush. I’ve never ridden in such a comfortable train.”

“I don’t know why we needed to take a train in the first place. Couldn’t I have just teleported us.”

“It’s important for you to pay attention to the journey. Not just the destination.”

“What utter tripe. Honestly. Where did you hear that.”

“I made it up.”

“Then why does it sound so generic.”

“Just look out the window. What do you see.”

“A landscape in desperate need of some livening up.”

“What about the sunset.”

“I see a landscape in the middle of the sunset in desperate need of some livening up.”

“Isn’t it beautiful.”

“Right. Sure. Beautiful. How long until we get there.”

“I wish moments like this could last forever.”

“If the sunset never ended. It wouldn’t be special.”

“That’s true. Very good. Discord.”

“It looks like I’m the one teaching lessons today.”

“Did you want me to lie. It really was a good insight.”

“I wonder if the same applies to ponies.”

“What are you talking about.”

“I’ve been thinking about death.”

“Again.”

“I can’t help it.”

“You’re not trying hard enough.”

“Don’t presume to know how hard I’m trying.”

“I’m sorry. What have you been thinking.”

“You said you won’t let me make you immortal.”

“And I still mean it.”

“Yes. Yes. Predictable. But there is another way.”

“Another way to what.”

“Another way to keep you after you die.”

“Discord.”

“I’ve said too much.”

“No. Keep going.”

“What a beautiful sunset.”

“Discord. Tell me. Please tell me.”

“Don’t give me that look. You know that look isn’t fair.”

“Please tell me.”

“I don’t even know how you make your eyes that wide. It’s unnatural.”

“Discord. Please.”

“Alright. Fine. I don’t need to make you immortal. I just need to bring you back whenever I get particularly lonely.”

“Bring me back.”

“Yes. Resurrect you from the dead.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Actually. I’m the only being capable of doing it.”

“It’s impossible.”

“I’m insulted that you still use that phrase when you’re with me.”

“You do a lot of impossible things. But bringing somepony back from the dead is impossible. Even for you.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. My dear. It would be quite easy.”

“It’s not right.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“You are never to raise a pony from the dead. Do you hear me. Discord.”

“What. Is it some crime against ponykind itself.”

“That’s exactly what it is.”

“I think that as long as it’s possible. There should be no reason I can’t do it.”

“Just because you can. Doesn’t mean you should.”

“I’ll only do it to you. Then.”

“No.”

“And only when I get really. Really. Down in the dumps.”

“No.”

“And you know that doesn’t happen often. You won’t be dragged to life and back with any notable regularity. So it’s not like you’d get to know Charon personally. You’d only be passing acquaintances.”

“Discord. Under no circumstances should you bring me back from the dead. Do you understand me.”

“What if you die soon. Though.”

“Why would I die soon.”

“What if this train derails. And everypony onboard except me dies.”

“That would be tragic.”

“Also. Fire is hot.”

“But you shouldn’t bring me back.”

“Oh. Come now. You know that wouldn’t be fair. To me or to you.”

“Why not.”

“I’d get deprived of your presence. And you’d die prematurely.”

“It’s not for ponies to decide when they die.”

“Can’t you at least let me have this. Fluttershy.”

“I’m sorry. Discord. But I can’t comfortably allow it.”

“Can’t you sacrifice some comfort for my sake.”

“I’m not changing my mind. Discord.”

“What am I supposed to do then. What happens to me when you go.”

“That won’t be for a long time. I promise.”

“But you ponies always go on about how you should plan for the future.”

“Most ponies go about their everyday lives pretending that they won’t ever die.”

“Why in the name of the cosmos would they do that.”

“So they aren’t always sad. That’s why they don’t think about it. It’s too sad.”

“It’s just a fact of life.”

“Then why are you upset.”

“Fluttershy. Please. Throw me a bone here.”

“I understand your frustration. But no.”

“Fluttershy.”

“That’s final.”

“But.”

“No. Discord.”

“Some friend you turned out to be. Won’t let me break even a single law of nature for my own purposes.”

“I think you know how ridiculous it would be.”

“I live for the ridiculous.”

“Discord. Help. Discord. Discord. Wake up. No. Tee-hee. Discord. Hey. Discord. Wake up. Wake up. Discord. Help. No. Stop. Stop it. Eek. Discord! Discord! Hey! Discord! Wake up! Ack! Hey! Wake up! Discord, wake up! Discord, can you hear me? Discord! No! Eek! Get away! Discord! Discord! Ddddddiiiiiisscccccoooooorrrrrrrdddd

Discord’s eyes flew open. He leaped out of his hammock. It took him but an instant to survey the scene: Eris laid writhing, convulsing on the ground, being held by some assailant. Discord swooped down and yanked the assailant into his arms. He began to grow, rapidly changing from a tall draconequus into a giant, motley dragon, nearly as large as the mountain on which he stood. The sky was instantly filled with dark, spiralling stormclouds. Discord’s monstrous eyes shone brightly, like two lanterns casting light in a dark room.

“HOW DARE YOU,” he roared at the cowering pony caught in his humongous claws.

“Discord! Stop!” Eris hopped around his giant feet, waving her forelegs madly. “He wasn’t attacking me, Discord! We were playing!”

His snarling face froze as he registered what she had said. In a flash, he had returned to his original state, as had the sky above.

He held the assailant up, only now getting a clear look: a young colt, with a mane of purple and a coat of indigo (which, at the moment, looked particularly pale).

Discord turned to Eris. “You were playing?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t trying to wake you, but then he started tickling me, so I thought you wouldn’t mind.” She pawed at the dirt sheepishly. “I guess you did, though.”

“Is this true?” he asked the colt with a scowl.

“Y-y-yes,” he stammered. “N-n-no j-j-joke!”

Discord set the colt on the ground, who promptly collapsed.

“Cosmic!” Eris ran to the colt’s side. “Cosmic, are you alright?”

Discord’s scowl morphed into a smirk. “So this is the Cosmic Ring I’ve heard so much about.” He slithered to the ground and met his eyes. “Eris tells me you’re not terrible.”

Cosmic jumped to his hooves and took off running down the mountain path, screaming frantically all the while. Discord grimaced, and Eris’s eyebrows fell downward, as his terrified cries faded in the distance.

Discord turned to her. “He seems nice.”

“That wasn’t funny, Discord.”

“What? The screaming thing?” He slithered back to the hammock and laid down. “I think it was hilarious, myself. Quite a lot of lungpower for such a small pony.”

She stomped over to him. “I mean the dragon thing, Discord. What was that about?”

“Oh, that?” He chuckled. “I was under the impression that you were being attacked.” He narrowed his eyes and met her furious gaze. “Funny how disorienting it can be when you wake up to somepony crying for help”

Her scowl wavered. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “It’s not like I lost anything out of this whole situation. You, however, will have quite the time consoling that friend of yours. I’m sure he’ll be pleased once you ponies train your first psychiatrist.”

“Don’t you think you should go apologize?”

“I told him he wasn’t terrible.”

“That’s hardly an apology.”

He yawned, stretching his long body in the hammock. “Well, I’m afraid that’s just about all he’s going to get.”

“He might tell the others.”

“So what?”

“Aren’t you trying to maintain a reputation?”

Discord turned his face to meet her and snarled. “Keep in mind who you’re talking to, Eris. This is not a relationship of equals.”

“Then what is it?” she returned, her face adorned with a defiant scowl.

“You are a lowly pony, whose god has taken a particular liking to.”

Her mouth quivered. “Is that all I am, then? A plaything?”

“That’s all any of you are.” He laughed harshly. “Oh, please don’t tell me you mistook my affection for any grandeur on your part!”

“No, I didn’t.” She turned and trotted slowly to the path down the mountain. “I just thought we were friends.”

Discord’s smirk vanished as she disappeared down the path. He scratched his chin and reclined in the hammock, resting his head on his arms.

He should have felt angry. He should have been filled with rage at the pony’s impudence. To think she expected him to deign himself for her. Him! Her god! The supreme ruler of the universe! The unequalled, unrivaled, unchallenged… and friendless, now. He clenched his fists as his whole body seemed to flood with a particular emotion, one with which he had little experience.

Discord hated regret. To regret one’s actions necessarily indicates that one is capable of making mistakes. Discord hated making mistakes. Draconequi who make mistakes don’t rule a perfect empire. Draconequi who make mistakes don’t create perfect universes.

He growled and rose. His thoughts buzzed as he paced back and forth on the mountaintop. Friends? With one of his ponies, which he created? Friendship… a relationship of two equal parties. He can’t be friends with a creature that was created to be subordinate to him. He created the universe for power and glory, not for playing dress-up with a bunch of whiny, improvident mortals. That was what he had set out to do, after all: to surpass Celestia’s greatest society with a society of his own. He can’t do that by being equal to his subjects!

And yet… here he stood, the omnipotent ruler of the universe, on a mountain, alone. He felt knots in his stomach as the realization set in. Being alone wouldn’t have mattered much for most of his life, but then…

“Curse that Fluttershy,” he seethed. She had done this to him. She-- no, wait. Celestia had done this to him. It had been her idea to reform him, and as a result, he had become friends with Fluttershy, and as a result, being alone made him feel… lonely.

Loneliness had once been so foreign a concept, but after Fluttershy, it was as if a curtain had been opened, and a part of his mind, once partitioned off, had been made accessible.

How desperately he tried, alone on the mountaintop, to close the curtain again.

After several minutes of intense mental strain, he sat himself back down on the hammock and sighed. “Oh, what’s the point?” He snapped his fingers, and a scoreboard appeared in the air beside him. On the left, under a crude picture of a white alicorn, was displayed 3. On the right, under a picture of his own head indistinguishable from the real thing, was displayed 0. Celestia’s 3 changed to a 4.

“Chalk one more up for Sun-butt,” the Discord head on the scoreboard lamented. “Stone imprisonment twice, reformation, and now this.”

Discord rested his head in his palms. “Oh, shut up.” The scoreboard vanished.

This wasn’t an entirely pleasant feeling, either. Defeat. “Well played, Celestia. I suppose Rainbow Dash was right.” He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. “I am incapable of creating a society as good as yours.” He groaned and spat on the ground beside him. “Such disgusting words…”

He sighed and stood up. “Well, that’s that, then.” It was time to go back. Back to Equestria, to Ponyville-- to the old universe. Discord imagined it would be simple: he would just have to reconstruct the universe as it had been, remake the planet, restore life to all of the--

His mind seemed to lock up at this thought. Restore life to all of the ponies. All of the ponies. Including Fluttershy, who, he distinctly remembered, had ordered him never to do so.

He felt his breath become labored as he surveyed his surroundings, as if for the first time. He looked at his palms. “What… what have I done? Even if I bring the rest of them back, there’d be no point without Fluttershy. But she said…”

He shook his head. “No. No, no.” His hands gripped his cheeks as he began to laugh. “No, no, no, no!”

He cackled madly, each burst of laughter growing louder and more hoarse than the last as the truth of the matter set it.

“I’m trapped,” he said between bouts of raucous laughter. “I’m trapped!” He raised his lion paw, which morphed into a smaller head.

“You screwed up,” the smaller head said. “You can’t go back. You’re nothing without Fluttershy.”

He raised his eagle claw, which also morphed into a head. “Looks like you’re trapped here. With no Fluttershy. Forever.”

All the while, his original head released peals of thunderous laughter. The little heads disappeared as his hands returned to his face. He stood, laughing, not moving from his spot. His bursts of laughter were increasingly replaced with pained sobs, and shortly he found himself sobbing frantically. Tears poured from his eyes, and he collapsed to the ground, his sobs becoming intermingled with distressed shouts of “No!” or “Fluttershy!”.

A single, dim corner of his mind seemed to retain his rationality. Escape, the repressed corner told him. Through the overwhelming flood of emotional distress, he could distinguish its commands: Escape. Too fragile. Go to sleep. Escape.

Mustering all of his willpower, Discord raised his claw. It glowed, and a small beam of golden light shot from his palm into his convulsing body. His tormented sobs and screams slowed, and he felt his sadness cloud as sleep took him.

~

Pebble Pusher strolled down the path, surveying the buildings about him with a smile. It hadn’t been easy, but the town was looking quite nice, if he did say so himself.

“Hey, Pebble!” called a passing purple stallion. “Thanks again for helping build my house!”

“No problem, Felt Tip,” he called back. “It was my pleasure.”

Felt stopped his trotting and touched Pebble’s shoulder. “Hey, I don’t mean to cause any trouble, but she’s at it again.”

Pebble lowered his head. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I wish I were,” Felt said, his head shaking slowly. “Another stroke of genius, courtesy of the town cuckoo.”

Pebble chuckled. “What is she on about this time?”

“I heard that she’s just completely lost it. Saying something about a building made out of lines.”

“Made out of lines? What does that even mean?”

“Heck if I know.” Felt spread his wings and took to the air. “Well, I gotta go. Silk Point invited me over to her place.”

Pebble grinned knowingly. “Interesting how she did that only after she got her door repaired.” He waved. “You two have fun.” He continued down the path as Felt flew away. Rounding a corner, his vision was suddenly filled with yellow and green.

“Pebble! You came!”

“I-I did?” he replied, stepping backward.

“You’re so busy, helping plan buildings and run the town, so I thought it would be days before you got to me. Good thing my friends told you I wanted to see you really badly.” Her dark green curls bounced as she chuckled to herself. “I haven’t even finished it yet.”

“Nobody told me you wanted to see me, Daisy.”

“Are you sure? They all said that they would,” she said, her smile wavering.

He nodded. “Nobody told me anything.”

Her eyes fell to the ground and her lips quivered. “They… they told me they would hours ago…”

Pebble rubbed his neck, averted his eyes, and sighed. “Finished what now?”

A smile snuck its way back onto her face. “Oh! Right! Come look and see!”

Pebble’s forehoof became enveloped in a yellow glow as he was dragged across the ground into a nearby hut, the mare skipping beside him. They stopped before the hut’s back wall.

He blinked. “Is there something wrong with your wall, Daisy?”

She giggled. “Look down, silly.” She had carved a series of lines into the dirt of the floor, making shapes that seemed too ordered to be random.

He brought a hoof to his chin and ruffled his wings. “What exactly is this?”

“It’s what my building is going to look like!”

He looked at her blankly. “You want to make a building out of lines?”

“No, of course not.” She lowered her head, squinting as she reviewed her carvings. “These lines are bricks.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“Just look at it this way.” She pointed to the lines nearest to his hooves. “This side is the ground,” she said, sweeping her hoof up to the wall, “and this side is the sky. This is what my building looks like from one side.” She gestured toward the wall to their left. “And that over there is what it looks like from another side.”

He rubbed his temples. “Alright, just… give me a second.” When she had nodded her assent, he looked to the carvings before him, and then to the carvings to his left. He trotted slowly to the other wall, looked at the carvings on the floor, and returned to the first wall, his brows furrowed all the while. He trotted back and forth between the two, occasionally muttering to himself and pointing absentmindedly to some of the lines. As he did this, Daisy stood silently, a small grin adorning her face.

Finally, he stopped before the first wall. “So, if this is your building…” He pointed to a pair of diagonal lines near the wall, that intersected into a tip. “You want the… the roof to be… slanted, I guess?”

“Uh-huh!”

He drew his hoof lower. “And if this is the floor, and this is the roof, what is this?”

“The second floor.”

“Second floor…”

Her smile vanished. “I showed it to Posie Prose, but she just said it was stupid. So did Felt Tip. ‘That’d never work, Daisy Chain,’ they said. ‘That’s just stupid.’ You probably think it’s stupid too.”

Pebble shook his head absently. “I don’t think it’s stupid at all.”

“You don’t?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think this could work.”

“Why can’t you believe you’re saying it?”

“Oh, uh… It’s just a really unique idea,” he stammered.

Her brows furrowed. “That’s what you said about my flying machine.”

“That’s different. We don’t need flying machines.”

“What if somepony’s wings get broken?”

“Never mind that. The point is, I think this could work.”

“So, you’re going to help me build it?”

“I guess I don’t see why not…”

She bounced up and embraced him, her wings flapping excitedly. “Oh, thank you thank you thank you!”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, pulling away. “Let’s not, uh, do that.”

“I know exactly where to build it!” She rushed outside, magically pulling him beside her. “There’s a big tree just outside town that would look so nice from a higher floor!” She spread her wings and took to the air. Pebble hurriedly spread his own as he was forced into the air by his hoof.

“Daisy, I didn’t mean I was going to start right now.”

“Oh, I just want you to see the place!” she said, flying faster. “Once you see it, you won’t be able to help getting just as excited as I am!”

Pebble looked below him and felt his cheeks burn, seeing passers-by below pointing up at the two. He could practically hear them jeering, mocking him for spending time with the one pony who had been created insane.

He shook his head and flapped harder, catching up with her. “Are you sure about that? I’ve seen plenty of trees.”

“You’ve never seen a tree like this one,” she replied. “Every day I go over and lay under the branches and it’s just the perfect place to take naps. The birds always sing, and the crickets chirp when the sun sets, and it would be so nice to have a house there!”

“What about your old house?”

“I was hoping someone else would want it. Or we could just destroy it.”

He frowned. “That took a lot of work to make, you know.”

“Well, if nobody wants it, what are we going to do with it?”

“You could just not live next to the tree. I still don’t see what the big deal is.”

“I just told you! It’s so pretty!”

“Is it worth hours and hours of wasted work just to live somewhere pretty?”

She turned her head to face him. “It wouldn’t be wasted work. It would be an improvement.”

“Just like your idea of using trees to make buildings as an improvement to bricks?”

“It’s not the trees, Pebble. It’s what you do to the trees.”

He shook his head. Her idea of two floors may work, but this mare still made no sense. “Whatever you say.”

After a short time in silence, Daisy laughed. “There it is!” She lowered herself to the ground and bounced up to the tree.

“This is what you’re so excited about?” he asked as he landed. “It’s just a tree. I mean, it’s a pretty big tree, but it’s still just a tree.”

She rested a hoof gently on its trunk. “But don’t you think it’s pretty?”

He groaned and rubbed his temples. “Sure, sure. Pretty. Let’s just get this over with. Where do you want to build the house?” When she didn’t respond, he looked up. “Daisy, are you listening?”

Her eyes were glued to something behind him, and her mouth hung agape. “Daisy, what are you…” He swung his eyes around, and his jaw dropped as well.

The sky had suddenly been filled with dark, swirling stormclouds. Far in the distance, atop the mountain shaped like a mare’s face, stood a monstrous creature. It bore some semblence to Discord, but was much more draconic in shape. “HOW DARE YOU,” the creature boomed.

“What is that?” Pebble shouted.

“It looks like Discord!” said Daisy. “Is he holding something?”

Suddenly the creature disappeared in a blinding flash, and the stormclouds dissipated.

Pebble and Daisy met each other’s eyes. “Should we do something?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Usually we just get Discord to handle everything.”

“Something tells me that’s not going to work this time.”

He looked toward the town. “We should go see if everyone’s alright.”

“But what about my house?”

“I think this is just a little more important, Daisy.”

She pouted as they took to the air once again. They shortly arrived in the center of the town, amidst seemingly every pony in existence. All several hundred of them chattered amongst themselves, exchanging worried cries of “Was that Discord?” and “What should we do?” and occasionally “We should set something on fire!”, until they saw Pebble Pusher.

“Pebble Pusher!” a mare called up. “What should we do?”

Pebble froze, hovering in the air. “What?”

“What should we do?”

“Why are you asking me?”

A stallion raised a hoof. “You’re the one that makes the decisions!”

“What? No I’m not!”

Daisy hovered close by and shrugged. “You kind of are.”

He grimaced. “You’re all capable of handling yourselves. Why do you need me to make decisions for you?”

“Because Discord isn’t here!” the stallion returned.

Pebble crossed his forehooves. “So, what? You want me to just tell you all what to do?”

A murmur of assent ran its way through the crowd. In that moment, the front of the crowd parted to make room for a pony walking through.

Pebble landed and approached her. “Eris, what happened up there?”

She sighed. “Discord thought Cosmic was attacking me.”

“Is that why he turned into that… that thing?”

“Yeah.” The crowd of ponies quickly sent the clarification to the farthest reaches of its ranks.

Pebble looked around, concerned. “And where is Cosmic? Is she okay?”

Eris frowned. “He’s a colt.”

“Is he okay, then?”

“He was scared, but Discord didn’t hurt him.” She kicked at the dirt beneath her hooves. “He hurt me, though.”

Pebble and the nearby ponies gasped. “He hurt you? How did he hurt you?” he asked.

She squeezed her eyes shut and brought her forehoof to her chest. “He hurt me in here.”

Pebble lowered himself to her height and took her face in his hooves. “Oh, no! He hurt your insides!”

“No he didn’t.”

“Then how did he hurt you?”

“He said we weren’t friends.”

Pebble sat unmoving before chuckling. “Oh. That’s better.”

Her eyes opened wide. “What?!”

“It’s alright, everypony,” he said, taking to the air. “She’s not hurt.”

Eris’s wings buzzed furiously as she attempted to take flight. “He said we weren’t friends, Pebble,” she said from a meter off the ground. “He said we’re all just playthings.”

“Playthings?” He lowered himself to the ground again. “Discord said we’re all playthings?”

“Uh-huh. It’s like he doesn’t even care about us.”

He shook his head and chuckled. “That can’t be right, Eris. Discord loves everypony!”

“No he doesn’t.” She began to trot away. “He hates us all.”

“How can you say that?” he asked as he met her pace. “He’s done so much for us.”

“Does he ever seem happy to see anypony?”

He thought for a moment. “Well, he’s always happy to see you.”

“But he said I’m not his friend. I’m just… a favorite toy.”

“Maybe you misunderstood him.”

“I doubt it.”

“Well, he seemed upset. You said he thought Cosmic was attacking you; maybe he was just scared.”

“Scared?” She looked up at him incredulously. “What does he have to be scared of?”

He smiled. “Well, he went through a lot of theatrics thinking he was protecting you.”

“So?”

“So, we know he fears at least one thing.”

“And what’s that?”

“Losing you.”

Eris stopped walking, but shook her head and continued. “He just doesn’t want his toy to get broken.”

“Pebble,” said a voice behind them. “I think you should see this.”

He turned around. “What are you talking about, Daisy?”

“Everypony is getting upset,” she said as she hovered. “I think they need some order.”

He brought a hoof to his face. “Why does that have to be my job?”

“Besides Discord, you do pretty much everything,” said Eris.

“I do not!”

“Well, everypony else thinks you do,” said Daisy, “and right now they need someone to calm them down.”

He reluctantly took to the air. “Fine. Eris, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.” She turned and continued walking. “Whatever.”

Daisy looked to her. “Is she alright?”

“She’ll be fine. Let’s go.” Pebble noted with concern the volume of the crowd’s chatter; he could hear it long before he could see it. Finally, he retook his place above the mass. “Ponies!” he called. “What’s the matter?”

“This moron insulted Discord!”

“I did not!”

“He did! I heard him!”

“So did that one!”

“I just said he could have handled things better!”

“That’s a confession!”

“No it’s not! I didn’t insult him!”

“So did he! And she, too! So did that one, too!”

“Did not!”

“What are you talking about?”

“I swear, I didn’t do anything like that!”

“And them, too!”

“How dare you?”

“We should set something on fire!”

“Enough with the fire, you idiot!”

“Enough, all of you!” Pebble shouted. “What somepony did or didn’t say is nopony else’s concern.”

“But he insulted Discord!”

“Did not! Did not!”

“He did!”

Pebble groaned. “Look, it doesn’t matter. Even if he did, that’s none of your concern.”

“But doesn’t it just fill you with a righteous fury, Pebble?”

He narrowed his eyes. “The only thing filling me with fury is how you ponies get into such a panic.”

“How could we not?” a mare farther back called. “Did you see Discord up there? That was terrifying!”

“Another anarchist!” shouted another.

“What?” said another. “She’s not an anarchist. She’s a radical!”

“She’s a radical anarchist!” said yet another.

“She must be!”

“No, you half-wits! She’s absolutely right!”

“She’s positively wrong!”

“She’s a radical anarchist!”

“That’s the worst kind of anarchist!”

“She’s the most radical anarchist I’ve ever seen!”

“The rumors of my political affiliations have been greatly exaggerated.”

“Everypony, come on!” Pebble shouted. “Just listen to you! Can’t you keep yourselves calm for five minutes?”

“Where is Discord? He’d know what to do!”

“Discord’s the problem, you idiot!”

“Another anarchist! They pervade our ranks!”

Pebble waved his hooves. “Look, would it make you all feel better if I go speak to him?”

A quiet murmur of assent ran through the crowd.

“Huh,” muttered Daisy. “Why are they only calm when they agree with something?”

“Alright, I’ll go then.” Pebble pointed to the mountain in the distance. “I’ll be on that mountain. Can you ponies promise not to lose your minds while I’m gone?”

“Does that mean no fire?” asked a solitary voice.

Pebble shook his head, turned, and began flying to the mountain.

“Pebble?” asked Daisy. “What should I do?”

He stopped. “I don’t care what you do, Daisy. I’m not your boss.”

“Can I go with you?”

“Why?”

“I wanted to see Discord about something.”

“What?”

She rubbed her foreleg nervously. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

He looked to the mountain, and then back at her. “Fine.”

She grinned widely, and the two started their flight, their god ahead and their kin behind.