Reconstruction

by Metaright

Rating: teen
Tags: Comedy, Adventure
Length: 21842

Discord tries his hand at worldbuilding. Chaos ensues.

After one of Discord's pranks goes a little haywire, he finds himself in the perfect position to prove that he can establish a better society than Princess Celestia. He soon finds, however, that while chaos is easy, order is very, very hard.

—
Discord vector in cover image courtesy of kaizerin (DeviantART)

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-02-17 06:07:15 UTC

02. Genesis

“Well, I suppose I’d better put it back,” Discord spat. “May Celestia never say I never did anything good for those ponies.”

Discord reached out with his extradimensional senses and funneled the ancient magic of harmony into his fingers. With a snap, a flash of blinding white light appeared. Before Discord’s eyes, an entire universe of splendor and prosperity appeared. Interminable stretches of nebulae and galaxies and solar systems harmoniously orbited one another, filled to the brim with planets, moons, and asteroids of unimaginable beauty. In each solar system laid planets of luxurious green grass and crystal blue waters. Across the newly-constructed universe, trillions of planets housed trillions and trillions of ponies, all meshed together in harmony the likes of which had never been known. In that instant, the universe was as close to objectively perfect as it could be. Strife was but a nightmare in the minds of young foals; pain, a simple fairy tale to be told alongside the story of the Boogiemare and the massacre of the chainsaw-wielding madpony. Discord had brought into existence absolute perfection, and had blessed innumerable new souls with a life sure to be filled with beauty, contentment, and plenty. Had the ponies understood their origin and the work of their creator, every society in the universe would surely have worshipped him as their god, showering him with unceasing gratitude and praise for having allowed their souls not a respite from suffering, but an existence utterly devoid of such a notion.

Discord snapped again, and it all disappeared.

“Now wait a second,” he said to himself, once again utterly alone. “What was it that that obnoxious pegasus said?” His head morphed into the likeness of Rainbow Dash. “Wide wike to see woo wun a better socie-blah!” he sputtered, punctuating each syllable with a raspberry. He returned his head to normal and folded his arms. “A better society, Rainbow Dash? I can run a better world than Celestia with one claw behind my back.” He diffused the magic of harmony from his fingers. “And I don’t need any help.

“Why should I take such an easy way out? I don’t need harmony to create a universe.” He gagged. “It’s bad enough that I had to deal with it before. I simply refuse to fraternize with such a disgusting force, and that is that.” He straightened his back and shook his fist. “You hear that?” he called out. “This universe is going to be harmony-free!”

Of course, there was nothing there to hear his declaration, much less respond to it. Had he not inadvertently caused the destruction of one universe and intentionally caused the destruction of another, reaping the souls of incalculable lives with almost no effort, he would, perhaps, have garnered a reply.

But he had, and so he did not.

“First things first,” he said, stroking his beard. “Ponies.” He snapped, and in front of him appeared an Earth pony stallion. Before he had time to think of what to do next, however, the stallion vanished.

“That didn’t take long,” he said with a sigh. “I’m certain I’m using the right magic…” He glanced all around him again, taking in the infinite void. “This reminds me of how Rainbow Dash used to race me through the skies back in Canterlot,” he mused. “I could have always won, of course, given my dominion over space itself, but I used to let her win because…” He scratched his head. “Why did I let that blue featherball win?” The confusion promptly left his mind, however, as he had ascertained the nature of his dilemma.

In Discord’s claw appeared a small cube, colored a brighter white than any mortal could have comprehended. With a thwip of his finger, the cube collapsed, its six faces falling back, and the universe contained space. The stallion appeared, right where Discord had left it.

It did nothing. Discord narrowed his eyes and leaned closer, giving it a poke. The pony’s flesh caved slightly inward at the outside pressure, but did not return to its original shape. Discord bent the stallion’s leg, and it did not bend back.

Discord stroked his beard again.

“That’s odd. Reminds me of that time Fluttershy encountered a dead mouse on the road.” He chuckled at the memory. “I wanted to bring it back and let it regale us with the tale of its demise, but of course she simply said ‘Um, there isn’t any time!’ and ran away in tears.” He wiped away a mirthful tear of his own. “I never understood why that mare was so sensitive to death.”

He turned back to the stallion, which remained still as a statue. He stared at it for a long while. Not that the period of time he stared at it could be measured, of course. There was, after all, no time.

After a pause of undefinable length, Discord snapped in realization. “There isn’t any time!” In his paw appeared an ornate, golden hourglass, its bottom half filled with sand as dark as the incomprehensible void. He flipped the hourglass upside down, and time returned to the universe.

As if on cue, the stallion looked around frantically, his mouth wide and quivering as if he were attempting to scream. There were, however, no molecules outside of his own body to be vibrated. Even more problematic was the lack of pressure. In short order, the stallion was dead.

Discord saw all that he had done, and it was very bad. “That didn’t go quite as expected,” he muttered. “I had forgotten that ponies require all of that…” His forked tongue found its way out of his mouth as he searched for words. “...stuff. How bothersome it must be to not be able to sustain one’s own existence.”

He floated up to the stallion and gave it a firm push. The corpse sped away, meeting no resistance in its flight. Its form receded, and soon Discord could not differentiate it from the blackness.

“So, what is it that ponies need, exactly?” He wracked his brain. “When you’re an eternal spirit of chaos, studying biology is like studying dust! What am I supposed to know about dust?” He sighed. Though he actually inhaled nothing, the action gave him an idea. With a snap, a single particle of oxygen appeared. “I believe this is what they need.”

He cupped the particle in his palm and brought it to his chest. “Be fruitful and multiply,” he said as his hands began to glow. Letting the particle go, he could sense that it was multiplying at an astounding rate. While it could never come close to filling the universe, as it was infinite, the oxygen particles soon existed in numbers an entire planet of ponies could never hope to consume.

Discord summoned another stallion. This one died as quickly as the first had, the only difference being that his screams could be heard loud and clear.

It was after shoving away the second corpse that Discord understood where he had gone wrong. With a slap on the forehead and a snap of the fingers, Discord created heat.

And so he continued, creating ponies and observing their fate in order to determine where he had made a mistake. Some of the incidents he found quite amusing, such as when, after creating gravity, the universe collapsed into a massive black hole, or when, after constructing light and accidentally setting all the photons in motion in the same direction, he inadvertently created a destructive universe-sized laser. He had also had a grand time experimenting with the forces. Fine-tuning the strong force resulted in every single particle erupting into a nuclear explosion all at once; carefully adjusting the electromagnetic force had allowed Discord to create an enormous clock out of pony corpses being electrified in sequence.

Sorting out the fundamental forces of nature as he had known them (for he had grown used to his powers in such a universe) took him an extremely long time. Creating and adjusting the behavior and interaction of elements and chemicals took him longer still. To be alive equally as long would surely have driven any mortal pony insane. Discord, in spite of much of his behavior in Equestria, remained patient. He experimented over and over and over, revising the laws of the universe exactly as he had known them. Occasionally, he even had to wipe his slate completely clean and start from the beginning when things became particularly chaotic. (“Well, isn’t this sickeningly ironic,” he had groaned after three billion years of experimentation. “Chaos is as simple as a snap; order is something of a challenge.”) Nevertheless, Discord persevered, and eventually his universe mirrored those which had come before, with one minor difference.

He rubbed his palms together eagerly. “Now we get to the fun part: objects!”

He snapped, and a star appeared. It was, by the old universes’ standards, a medium-sized star, but it utterly dwarfed Discord himself in size. “Something’s wrong with this picture…” His body grew, and soon the star appeared no bigger than a marble. “That’s better.”

With a flash, a planet appeared a good distance from the sun. Discord held it between his fingers. “I don’t want you flying into the sun and burning up,” he cooed to the miniscule sphere. “Not until I have a planet of sinful ponies to discipline.” He closed one eye, stuck out his thin tongue, extended an arm and raised his thumb. “How about… this?”

He flicked the planet, which immediately spiraled into the star.

“Must not have hit that sucker hard enough,” he said, chuckling. He summoned another planet and flicked it. This one escaped the star’s gravity and rocketed at millions of miles per hour to the other side of the universe. Leaning slightly to his left, Discord picked it up and set it back.

“Perhaps too hard, that time.” He flicked it more softly. The planet fell into a shaky orbit before its wobbling topspin sent it to the star’s surface.

Roughly ten thousand attempts later, Discord’s planet achieved a stable orbit. This was better than having to have a pony move the sun itself, after all; he didn't want his planet to deify any other creature, but he certainly couldn't be bothered to move the sun manually each and every day. He shrunk himself down and set himself on the surface of his planet, admiring his work. “Not bad, Discord,” he praised. “Not bad at all.”

He laughed. “Let’s not make the same mistake twice, hm?” He formed his thumb and index finger into a circle, brought his hand to his lips, and blew. From his lungs drifted an atmosphere, which rose to the outskirts of the planet’s gravitational pull and formed a  thin covering.

“Going to need some mountains if I want my ponies to create any breathtaking temples for me,” Discord said with a toothy grin. He hopped backward, growing in size before once again dwarfing the planet. He took the rocky sphere in his palm and squeezed. The planet now possessed rolling valleys, towering mountains, and rigid canyons.

He shrunk himself again and split into two. “Hey, good-lookin’,” Discord said to Discord.

“Back at ya,” Discord replied. Discord and Discord split themselves into two.

Discord, Discord, Discord, and Discord split themselves into two.

Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, and Discord split themselves into two.

“Is it hot in here,” said Discord with a smirk, “or is it just you guys?”

“I’ve heard of beautiful,” responded Discord, “but this is ridiculous!”

Discord chuckled. “I wonder which of us is the most stunning…”

The draconequi all brought inquisitive paws to their chins. They sauntered about, observing and scrutinizing each other before nodding in approval at what they found. After several minutes, they found that they had formed a circle.

Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, and Discord pointed to the draconequus to their left. “He is!”

The sixteen creatures simultaneously collapsed to the ground in uproarious laughter.

“Alright, alright,” said Discord as he wiped his eyes. “Everyone split.”

And they did.

“Again.”

And they did.

“Now.” Discord took to the air. “Discords over here, you take the mountains. Discords over there, the plains. Those Discords, fill the oceans. And the rest of you, take the deserts.”

“Sir, yes sir!” the draconequi replied.

And Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, Discord, and Discord took to their assorted tasks. Some of them flew to the deserts and piled the ground high with sand, planting sparse groves of cacti and the occasional oasis. Others traveled to the prairies and decorated the ground with grass, trees, and flowers, deciding amongst themselves where to insert a forest. Others still went to the lowest divots on the planet and, twisting each other’s arms like knobs and gaping their mouths impossibly wide, poured forth water.

It was careful, concerted work, and the company of spirits took great pride in a job well done. They rejoined and swelled again to cosmic size. Admiring the meticulously crafted vegetation and landscapes of his world, he noticed that his planet had just completed its first orbit around the star. He celebrated by adorning it with an enormous, conic party hat.

He stepped back onto the planet’s surface once more. “But what’s an inviting house without guests?” He snapped, and before him appeared a male and female eagle. Their eyes met, and they flew off.

And Discord created the lesser animals as they were in Equestria. He populated the planet with two of every animal he had known, only barely stopping himself from populating it with animals of his own design. When it came time to create rabbits, he considered skipping the rodents entirely.

“Well,” he said finally, “I suppose Flutterbobble would have preferred it this way.” He created a male and female rabbit, and, as an afterthought, teleported himself to the nearest mountain. He walked up to its base and delivered a swift kick. Rock and vegetation crumbled away from the face of the mountain until it resembled a familiar face that Discord considered more pleasing to the eye.

He found, when he had teleported back, that the rabbits were now eight in number. “...Impressive.”

After his work was done, Discord grew to his enormous size and looked down at the planet with a similarly large microscope. He saw the creatures populating his planet, ecosystems already forming and animals already filling the distinct niches that they had filled back on his home planet, two universes and an undefinable amount of time away. More locally, Discord found that his planet had completed another revolution around its star.

Many animals perished, crushed by an enormous party hat with the digit ‘2’ written on it.

Discord lifted his planet-sized foot and touched a toe to the surface of his planet. He shrunk as he stepped onto its surface, placing himself beside the mountain he had altered. He looked up at it and smirked.

“Now we come to the really fun part.”

The demure, rocky face of Fluttershy offered him a sweet smile in return.

03. Sapience

Discord leaned against the mountain he had formed to resemble Fluttershy’s face. “I wonder what kind of pony I should make,” he mused.

The mountain had no reply.

“Shall I create the three separate pony races? Or perhaps bless every pony with both wings and a horn?” He scratched his chin. “What I really need to avoid is the pitfall of the monarchy.” He looked up to the mountain. “Twilight Sparkle gets wings and absolutely nothing else changes, and now she’s a princess all of a sudden!” He shook his head and chuckled. “Some society that is. Your power should depend on whether or not you’re Discord, not how many biological bells and whistles you have.” He ran his eyes down his own motley body, gazing at each distinct part appreciatively. “Of course, being me, I have both the worth of a deity and the most bells and whistles!”

He paced along the ground beside the mountain’s literal face. “Unlike Celestia, I’ll make plans for the long-term. There won’t be any unanticipated cataclysms when I’m at the helm!” He stroked his beard. “I don’t imagine society will go anywhere if I make Earth ponies. Not only would they have no magic; for all intents and purposes, you see, they’d only be able to move in two dimensions! Ponies with no wings can’t move up and down!”

He glanced back up at the mountain and frowned. “Now, I know what you’re thinking; ‘But Discord, you extremely handsome and all-powerful little devil you! Earth ponies do have magic!’”

Had the mountain possessed the necessary biological faculties, it might have felt incredulous at the accusation of having contradicted the mighty Discord and vehemently defended itself. However, as it had no faculties whatsoever, it was all the mountain could do to stand there, unmoving, unfeeling, and unable to change the fact that it was now the first entity in the new universe to contradict its ruler.

Discord folded his arms. “They might have latent magic, but they can’t harness it like unicorns can. Then again,” he deliberated, “I don’t want my ponies to get too confident in their own power, so making a society of ponies with Celestia’s power might not be wise either…”

He brought his claw up to stroke his beard before raising it before his eyes in admiration. “Come to think of it, these might come in handy. Pegasi and Earth ponies have nothing on these.” He resumed his stroking. “Can I even give ponies hands? The little quadrupeds probably won’t get much use out of them…”

After several minutes of thought, he nodded resolutely. “I’m thinking too narrowly. I don’t need ponies; I need subjects! I can give them any kind of anatomy I want.” He glanced to his side, seeing a flock of birds soaring in the distance. “No matter how things work out, they’ll eventually either drive all of these animals to extinction or remove their capacity for independence.” He looked back up at the mountain. “You never believed me when I told you, Flutters, but it can’t be good for ponies to act as nature’s caregivers.”

Inspiration struck, and he laughed. “I know! I’ll make a creature even better than ponies! And I know just how to do it!” With a loud snap, a brand new creature stood before him. It was almost six feet tall and stood on two legs. Its body lacked fur, claws, fangs, or anything of the sort, but it did have hands and an unusually large head. The creature looked about in confusion.

Discord laughed. “There! Now that I’ve--” He leaned in close to the creature, scrutinizing as it fidgeted nervously.

With another snap, the creature ceased to exist. “No, no,” Discord muttered. “Not quite.” He chuckled despite himself. “What was I thinking? That thing had no way to defend itself. It wouldn’t last a day out by itself.” He shook his head. “I’m sticking to ponies. For all their foibles, ponies work. As if a society of big-headed, hairless apes could possibly sustain itself!” He laughed at length at this ridiculous idea.

Wiping a teary eye, he came to his conclusion. “A society of alicorns, less powerful than Twilight Sparkle but more powerful than Mi Amore Cadenza-- the building blocks to a society that Celestia’s won’t even match.” He rubbed his palms together eagerly. “So, who’s going to be the lucky pony, the first pony to exist in the greatest civilization ever?” He covered his eyes with his paw and snapped his talons, focusing his magic on creating an alicorn yet not concentrating on what its appearance would be. Shortly, he uncovered his eyes and looked at his first subject.

Before him stood a small alicorn filly with a coat of pink and a mane of green. Its mint-colored mane sat messily atop its head and ran down the side of its neck just far enough to reach its body. Its eyes shone with a deep emerald green. It had no cutie mark.

The filly’s eyes grew wide and its tiny pink wings flared up. It looked around itself, surveying its surroundings with clear confusion, before finally setting its eyes on the monstrous, grinning creature before it.

“Hello,” Discord said.

The filly said nothing.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

Silence.

“Can you speak?”

The filly cocked its head and furrowed its eyebrows.

Discord frowned. “Do you understand me?”

The filly hesitated, and then nodded slowly.

“Do you know where you are?”

It shook its head.

Discord began to hover slightly above the ground, gesturing widely with his arms. “I’d like to welcome you, the first citizen of the glorious planet of…” He drew out his last word for dramatic effect. When he opened his mouth to finish, though, he froze. High into the sky, multicolored fireworks exploded nonetheless, the explosions all taking the shape of Discord’s face.

He gently set his feet back on the ground and cupped his chin. “I haven’t actually decided what to call this place.” He looked again to the filly, which was now sitting down looking just as confused as before. He brought his head down to its eye level and coiled over its shoulder.

“Do you have any ideas, young one?”

The filly raised a protective hoof before shaking its head.

Discord stroked his beard and hovered again, keeping his head at the filly’s height. “I suppose I’ll have to come up with something clever, then. And it won’t be a pun. Do you know how many places in Equestria were named after different ways to say ‘pony’? It’d be like me naming this place ‘Draconequopia’!” He paused. “Actually, that’s not too bad…”

The filly stared at her creator, dumbfounded.

Discord shook his head. “Oh, the name of the place doesn’t matter right now. Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life!” He gestured again, his arms inexplicably lengthening and extending high into the sky, noodling their way into coils and circles before finally ending in a pair of outstretched hands.

The filly said nothing.

The air audibly whizzed as Discord quickly retracted his arms. “You’re very quiet; you know that?” he asked his creation, gently tapping her on her horn. “That’s alright. I like the quiet types. They’re always much less irritating than the outspoken ones.” He chuckled. “Oh, if I had a kingdom for every time Twilight launched into one of her interminable ramblings concerning a dire this or a fascinating that or an explanation about how harmful it is for me to turn all of Ponyville’s water into fizzy soda, even though personally I find the carbonation very pleasant to the skin when bathing.”

The filly remained silent. The two stared at each other, she sitting on the ground with her indelible look of confusion, and he hovering gently, his mismatched wings flapping out of tandem.

“Do you have a name?”

The question seemed to shock the filly, whose eyes fell to the ground and moved about rapidly, as if she were searching her newly-formed mind for an answer that surely should have been there. After several minutes, she looked back up at Discord and sadly shook her head.

“Would you like me to name you?”

Her eyes instantly brightened, and for the first time, she smiled. She nodded her head emphatically.

Discord laughed. “So that got a reaction out of you, at least!” He laughed still harder as she looked to the ground and blushed. “No worries, my dear; I’ll soon set you up with a name to be remembered for generations!” He straightened himself and set his feet on the ground, putting a claw to his chin. “Now… what to call you…”

The filly waited, sitting patiently before him, still grinning, her wings occasionally fluttering in anticipation.

Discord snapped before bending down to the filly’s height. “How about ‘Discord Jr.’?”

She seemed unimpressed.

“‘Number zero-zero-zero-zero-one’?”

Her lips quivered, as if she were close to tears.

“Perhaps not the most dignified, that.” He considered further. “How about ‘Eris’? Would you like that?”

She thought for a moment, and then met his gaze, nodding excitedly.

“Excellent!” he cackled.

Suddenly, Eris froze. Her pupils dilated to huge proportions. Discord gently waved his claw in front of her face.

“Eris? Hello? Unnamed-astrological-body to Eris; come in, Eris!”

In her eyes shone a small white spark. She closed her eyes and shook her head, bringing a hoof to her temple.

“Are you alright? I don’t want my first creation to die so suddenly on me.”

Eris brought her hoof to the ground and nodded slowly. Discord scooped her into his hands and stood up again, holding her in front of his face.

“So it appears that receiving a name is quite important for ponies,” he observed, rotating her to get a look at her every angle. “Doesn’t make much sense, that. I didn’t get a name until I conquered Equestria, and even that was less of a name until I took a liking to it.” He patted her on the head roughly and chuckled. “I’ll never understand it, you ponies’ inability to have a sense of identity without labeling yourselves.”

He met Eris’s eyes and grinned. “Want to go have some fun?”

She gasped and smiled back at him, nodding once again.

“Perfect!” He hefted Eris above his head and began running across the landscape at a great speed, taking long, springing strides with his legs. He and Eris exchanged looks and laughed, his gruff cackling masking her quiet, high-pitched giggles. In the middle of one of his strides, however, he froze.

“I think I’m getting a little bit off task,” Discord said, looking up at her. She gave him an inquisitive look. “I need to make a society of ponies,” he explained. “And that requires quite a few more than a single bubblegum-colored filly.”

She shrugged and looked downcast.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said, his body slowly rotating so that he now stood mid-stride, facing the mountain that had been behind him. “This is going to take a while, but we can have a fun break every once in a while!” His body began to float horizontally back to the mountain, still posed as if he were in the middle of a stride.

Eris cocked her head questioningly.

“I suppose I’ll need to give names to each individual pony,” Discord thought aloud, his white beard blowing. “To start up a self-sustaining population, I think I’ll need at least a few hundred. That might take a while.”

Eris frowned.

Discord gave her midsection a gentle squeeze. “How about this-- we’ll take a break every three days.”

She gasped.

“Oh, that’s right; time seems a little different to mortals. A few thousand years is like a time-out for me,” he said, meeting her gaze. “But I guess a few days is unbearable to you, huh?”

She nodded meekly.

“How about a break every couple hours?”

Eris’s frown remained, but she nodded her head anyway; Discord presumed that compared to a few days, a couple hours, while still unbearable, seemed quite a bit better. He chuckled. “I’m going to need to teach you how to be a better negotiator.”

The two had arrived back at the mountain. Discord summoned a large strandkorb and laid down, setting Eris beside him. “Let’s start the clock.” He snapped, and beside the strandkorb appeared a grey box with a black display on the front and a large button on the top. Red digits, 2:00:00, appeared on the display. “Would you like to do the honors?”

Eris nodded enthusiastically, hopped off her seat, and gave the button a hard whack. The clock began to count down, and her wings buzzed in anticipation as she set herself back down on the seat. She grinned at him.

He grinned back at his new friend. “How about a stallion this time?” Eris nodded. “I just need to make him a little bit older than you…” He snapped.

In front of the lounging duo appeared an alicorn stallion quite a bit older than Discord had anticipated; his brown skin sagged, and a scruffy grey beard, the only mane on his body, adorned his muzzle. Even his horn seemed old, appearing to have been dulled through a course of years he hadn’t lived. His entire body shook with the effort of standing; in mere seconds, his legs collapsed under him and he fell to the ground, hacking and wheezing all the while. Eris covered her mouth with a hoof and looked to Discord, her pleading eyes threatening to leak tears.

Discord grimaced and looked at his hand. “That doesn’t make any sense. That’s the second time now that that’s happened,” he said to Eris.

The filly could have sworn that Discord’s face briefly flashed with fear, but he warded off the emotion with a meager chuckle. “Why don’t we clean this up and start over, eh?” He readied his hand to snap, only for Eris to jump up and grab it in her hooves. She shook her head frantically.

“What?” he asked. “You don’t…” He looked to the struggling stallion. “You don’t want me to erase him?”

Eris nodded.

“He can’t very well be used for a sustained population,” Discord explained. “He doesn’t have much of a use.”

Eris thought for a moment. Her eyes brightened and she opened her mouth as if to speak, but quickly shrank back with a blush. She hopped off the seat and pointed to the clock.

Discord looked back and forth between the clock and the stallion before the epiphany hit him. He leaned forward and mussed Eris’s mane. “You’re quite a smart filly,” he praised.

He looked back to the stallion and snapped. The stallion’s body was engulfed by a golden glow, and his body began to morph. Eris looked on in amazement as the golden shape changed from that of a frail geriatric to a young, virile colt (about the age, Discord figured, of Fluttershy). The golden aura dissipated, and before the pair now stood a young alicorn stallion with a light brown coat and a black mane. He rubbed his head, clearly dazed, before eyeing his surroundings with confusion.

Eris exhaled deeply, relieved.

“Welcome to life,” Discord said with a smirk. “I hope you enjoy your stay.”

The stallion simply nodded. “...Thanks?”

“Oh!” Discord exclaimed. “You spoke!”

“Should I… not have?”

“No no, you’re fine.” He levitated Eris and presented her to the stallion. “This one doesn’t speak to me at all.” Eris blushed and waved timidly.

“So, do you have a name?” Discord asked, setting her down beside him.

“No, I… I don’t think so.”

“Would you like me to name you?”

“S-sure?”

Discord touched his fingertips together. “You’re the first stallion.”

“...Oh.” The stallion looked around him once more, noticing the lack of other ponies. “That’s kind of messed up.”

“There’ll be others.” Discord teleported next to him, wrapping his arm around the stallion’s shoulder. “And there’ll be some mares, too.” He bumped the stallion with his elbow and wiggled his eyebrows seductively.

He noticeably brightened at this.

With a flash, Discord lounged on the strandkorb again. “I think I’ll call you ‘Wiggle Woggle’.”

The stallion blushed. “Wiggle-what?”

“Oh, come on now. It’s a wonderful name!”

“No!”

“When I make more ponies, your friends can call you ‘Wiggly’!”

“I don’t--”

“My decision is made. Your name is Wiggle Woggle. Please stand aside.”

Wiggle Woggle opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it and sulked off. Finding no destination, however, he took his place beside the strandkorb and laid on the ground.

Discord laughed maniacally, choosing to ignore Eris’s pleading look. “Oh, come on, Eris! It’s a perfectly suitable name!”

Her expression hardened to one of indignation. Discord’s laughed petered out until the two sat silently. He sighed. “Alright, fine. Wiggle,” he called, “step forward.”

Wiggle Woggle stood in front of the duo. “Yes?”

“My associate feels my treatment toward you has been dissatisfactory,” Discord said, with an irritated glance at Eris.

“You mean--”

“Yeah, yeah.” Discord blew a raspberry. “You can have a different name.”

The now-unnamed Stallion grinned. “Thank you so much!”

“Please, don’t mention it.”

“I was talking to the filly.”

Discord crossed his arms and grumbled as Eris blushed. “So what do you want to be named?”

The stallion brought a hoof to his chin. “I don’t really know, actually. I don’t know any names.”

“Well, back in Equestria--”

“Where?”

“--the ponies’ names were often just…” He raised a hand and gestured absently. “Just amalgamations of different words.”

“How do you choose the words?”

Discord shrugged. “I don’t really know. But maybe we can choose something fitting. What kind of things do you like to do?”

“I haven’t really… done anything.”

The two said nothing for a time.

Finally, Discord brought his paw to his face in exasperation. “This is going to be harder than I thought…”

04. Ultimatum

Discord arched his back and yawned. “Thank the cosmos this is finally done…” He jumped up and floated before the large crowd of alicorns before him. There were stallions and mares, fillies and colts, and all were standing or sitting around, looks of uneasiness universal across their faces. “Attention, my little ponies!” Discord shouted. A few in the front turned to look at him.

He frowned. “I said, attention, my little ponies!”

The few that had taken notice shortly returned their attention to each other. Discord snarled. Insubordination? Pervading the populace this early? With a grand sweep of his glowing arms, the sky above was shrouded in an inky black stormcloud. Lightning and thunder punctuated his every word: “ATTENTION, MY LITTLE PONIES.”

Not a pony neglected to give him its attention; every pair of eyes looked upon their creator, filled to the brim with fear.

Discord smirked. “Much better.” With a flash, a large megaphone appeared in his paw. “Welcome, my creations, to the first day of the rest of your lives!”

An uneasy murmur ran through the crowd. “The rest of our lives?” one filly asked. “I’ve been here for weeks!” said a stallion. “Why does he look so different than us?” asked a mare.

“I’m willing to bet,” Discord continued, “that you’re all still a bit disoriented.”

The ponies murmured their assent, some still gazing warily at the swirling storm clouds above.

“In time, I’m sure you’ll grow used to the experience of being alive. You might even find you prefer it to the Oblivion of nonexistence. Of course, I can’t make the comparison, because I have never not existed.” He scratched his chin. “Actually, I wonder what it’s like…”

With a flash, Discord disappeared. The ponies looked amongst each other, confused. A moment later, he reappeared. “Yep, I was right,” he said thoughtfully. “That was terrible.

“Regardless, my creations, there are now five hundred of you on this planet, and you exist for one purpose and one purpose only.” He grinned mischievously. “Does anyone know what that purpose is?”

The crowd remained utterly silent. Discord scratched his his neck. “No? Nopony? No one's going to--” He cupped his face in his paw. “Okay, okay. Maybe I’m starting off too strong.” He gestured to the mountain behind him. “Fluttershy always said I was too ‘forward’, so let’s take this more slowly. Does anypony have any questions?”

After a moment of silence, a mare near the middle of the crowd began to hover. “Who are you?”

Discord chuckled. “Ah! My favorite subject!” Great bolts of lightning shot out of the clouds and froze above his head, spelling the word DISCORD in giant, crackling letters. “I am Discord, the spirit of chaos. Everything you see around you is a product of my hand; a fruit of my labor; a result of my unimaginably powerful…” He bit his lip. “...power.”

“Who are we?” the mare asked. Numerous ponies murmured, obviously wondering the same thing.

“You,” said Discord as the lightning letters disappeared, “are the epitome of my creation. I have gifted you with the utmost level of intellect and spirit, as well as dominion over all of creation.”

“Why?”

Discord clapped his hands together. “Excellent question! You exist for one purpose: to entertain me.”

The ponies in the crowd muttered amongst themselves; Discord could decipher expressions of discontent.

“Well, I suppose that isn't entirely true.” Numerous ponies looked up at him with hopeful eyes. With a flash, Eris appeared in Discord’s arms. “This one is special.” Eris smiled up at him cheerfully, but her face fell as she observed the increasingly angry expressions of the ponies below.

“What makes her so special?” asked a stallion.

“For your information… uh…” Discord tapped his chin. “Who are you again?”

“Pebble Pusher,” said the stallion with a scowl.

“Right. This one just happens to be the very first pony out of all of you.”

“And that makes her better than us?”

In Discord’s grasp, Eris looked back and waved her arms frantically. “Are you sure you don’t want me to set this one straight?” Discord asked her. “It would be easy enough to get rid of him.”

Eris frowned and shook her head gently.

“Fine.” He sighed. “My ponies,” he said to the crowd, “your task is to construct and establish a bustling metropolitan society, with a harmonious populace and a benevolent government, capable of sustaining itself until the day that star over there in the sky expands enough to end you all in a great burst of nuclear fire.” He nodded resolutely.

Pebble Pusher’s jaw dropped. “What? How are we supposed to do that?” Great cries from the others punctuated his question.

Discord set Eris on his head between his horns and threw his arms into the air. “I don’t know! You just… do it!”

“How?”

“Go punch a tree and make a building, or something! Do I have to do all the work?”

“How do we make a building?” Pebble Pusher asked.

Discord shrugged. “I never saw them do it! I found them when it was all already done! Can’t you all just figure it out?”

“You’re the one that made us,” said Pebble Pusher. “Can’t you teach us how?”

Discord smirked. “Sure. Watch and learn.” He snapped, and beside him, floating in the air, appeared a small log cabin, complete with a welcome mat and chimney. “I don’t suppose you ponies can do that.”

Pebble Pusher groaned. “Quit screwing around and teach us how to do it!”

“Yeah, teach us!” sang numerous other ponies. “How can we do it if you don’t teach us?”

“Well, I don’t know how to do it,” Discord replied. “If I need to make something, I just do it all at once.”

“Why don’t you let us do that, then?”

“There can be only one god,” Discord said snidely. “You ponies need to do it the old-fashioned way.”

Cries of indignation rose from the crowd.

“Why can’t you just help us?” asked one colt in the front.

“Because you need to do it yourselves! I need to oversee a better society than Celestia, not build it myself!”

The ponies looked to each other in confusion, the question of “Who is Celestia?” running through the crowd.

“Look,” said Discord, his voice laced with mounting irritation. “The point is, you ponies need to get your acts together and organize yourselves.” He pointed a finger up, and a thin beam of golden light shot skyward into the dark clouds. The light sucked the clouds like a vacuum, sending the darkness down the beam until it dissipated around Discord’s hand. He gestured to the clear sky and the setting sun. “And you’d better hurry. I do believe the predators around here are nocturnal.”

Panicked cries arose from the crowd. Exclamations of “How are we supposed to do this?” and “We’ll never make it!” and “I don’t even know how to punch trees!” rang out in the cacophonous uproar.

Discord clutched the sides of his face. “Why do you ponies not understand this?” he shouted. “How did you learn in the first place?”

“We had no first place!” a pony shouted. “I was only made just yesterday!”

By now the crowd was dispersing as ponies fled in seemingly random directions, great cries and declarations of doom sounding out from all over. Discord looked upon his panicking ponies, his eyes darting across the landscape as he pulled at the fur on his face in growing desperation.

“Order!” he shouted. “I demand order!”

The shouting and running continued regardless.

“Order! I want order!”

“We’re gonna die!”

“We’re all doomed!”

“I don’t want to die!”

“ORDER!”

“I didn't ask to live!”

“We’re never going to make it!”

“I find this environment troublingly overstimulating!”

“ORDER! Order, please!”

“What do we do?”

“Where do we go?”

“ORDER! ORD-- STOOOOOOOOP!”

Discord swung his arms out like an umpire, and instantly the ponies froze in place. He lowered himself and collapsed on the ground, clutching his temples. Eris poked his forehead inquisitively.

“This isn't chaos,” Discord moaned. “Chaos is fun! Chaos is entertaining!” He gestured to the frozen pandemonium before them. “This isn't fun! This is just annoying! This is…” He scoured for words, failed, and sighed loudly. He rolled over, setting Eris on his side and holding his head up with his paw. “I imagine you must find this delightfully ironic, little one.”

Eris thought for a moment. “Why do you hate us?”

Discord’s eyes grew wide as she spoke. Her voice was soft and soothing, barely a whisper, high-pitched without being shrill. Rather like Fluttershy’s voice, Discord thought. “What did you say?”

“Why do you hate us?”

“Rather depressing first words,” Discord said with a chuckle. “You haven’t said a single thing since I made you.”

Eris blushed. “Nothing has been important enough to say.”

“Until now?”

“Why do you hate us?”

“I don’t hate you,” Discord said. “I love all of my little, wretched, inexplicably panic-prone ponies.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do.”

“No you don’t.”

“Okay, you’re right, but how am I supposed to?” He pointed at Pebble Pusher, who had been frozen mid-trip, his face hurtling down toward a puddle of mud. “That one was remarkably disrespectful. You’d think he’d have a little more reverence.”

The two sat silently for several minutes, both equally lost in thought. “They’re scared,” she said finally.

“They’re lazy.”

“They’re scared. They don’t know what to do, and they’re scared.”

“I told them what to do, but they don’t seem to think their god is wise enough to set them on the right path.” He growled. “Wretched creatures.”

Eris adjusted herself, and was now lying on her back atop Discord’s torso. “Why don’t you help them?”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t.”

As if by some unspoken agreement, they let the subject drop. Pony and draconequus laid there in the grass, under the frozen sunset.

“Who’s Celestia?” Eris asked after a time.

He looked at her skeptically. “Are you sure you want to know? It’s a little much for the mortal mind.”

She nodded.

“There was a universe before this one,” he said. “In that universe, Celestia ruled a great nation of many different ponies.”

“Was she nice?”

He snorted. “Ol’ Sun-butt? Oh, you should have seen her! Stomping on everypony’s fun, insisting that every little thing be kept in line, making sure that society ran smoothly without the least bit of disorder…” He swallowed. “Yes, I suppose she was rather nice.”

“You didn't like her,” she said, more as a statement than as a question.

He chuckled softly. “That would be quite the understatement, but no, she and I did not mesh well.”

“Why?”

“Celestia insisted on keeping everything so neat and tidy, so meticulous and methodical… There was no room for fun when she was around.”

“Were her ponies happy?”

“The incredible thing is that they were. All of them. I never met a single pony who didn't approve of her.” He clasped his hands beside his face. “They all love love loooooved it,” he sang dryly.

“But you weren't happy?”

“No. No, I wasn't.” He paused. “At least, not at first.”

“What happened?”

“Celestia had the ridiculous idea of ‘reforming’ me,” he said, using his fingers as quotation marks. “She thought that if I made a friend, I’d never plunge the world into chaos again.”

“Did you?”

“Make a friend, or plunge the world into chaos again?”

“Both.”

“Yes,” he answered. “And no.”

“So she was right, then. Even you were happy, eventually.”

“Yeah…” He couldn't contain a wistful smirk. “But I never liked her. It was only fortune and serendipity that allowed me to find contentment in a society so devoid of creativity.”

The two again fell silent. “Why do you like chaos?”

“Why do I like chaos?” He cackled loudly. “Why do I like chaos?”

She nodded.

“Why do I like chaos!” he sang. “Why do I like chaos!” He wiped away a mirthful tear as his giggles faded away.

“Well?”

“Well, I…” He brought a hand to his chin and stroked his beard. “It’s really not that hard of a question. You see, it’s…”

“Yes?”

“I just…”

“I’m listening.”

“It’s who I am,” he said finally. “I guess there’s no other reason than that. I’m the spirit of chaos, and that’s that.”

“Is it fun?”

He grinned. “It’s the most fun in the world! Nothing is more joyous than a good bout of discord!”

She slowly waved her hoof, gesturing to the frozen ponies before them. “Is this fun?”

“No,” he sighed, “this is not fun.”

“Did you love her?”

“What?” he asked, taken aback.

Eris pointed to the mountain behind them. “That pony you made in the mountain. She was the friend you made, wasn't she?”

Discord rolled over, positioning himself on his back. Eris righted herself, laying herself on his chest. After a moment, he nodded slowly. “Yes.”

"What was her name?"

“Fluttershy.”

“Did you love her?”

Discord looked to the ground, a faint blush showing through his grey fur. “Yeah.”

“Did she hate other ponies?”

He looked at her quizzically. “No; she adored other ponies. Even if she was too afraid to be around them, she never stopped loving ponies.”

“You didn't hate everypony back then, did you?”

He shook his head. “Nah. There were six I didn't completely despise. Seven, if you count the baby dragon. Which reminds me.” He sat up and snapped his fingers. Beside the two a pair of giant purple dragons appeared. They met each other’s eyes and flew off, sparing a moment to glance in confusion at the motionless ponies below. Discord laid back down. “There we go. Some nice destruction to be had a few years down the road. Dragons are such territorial creatures.”

“Didn't Fluttershy teach you to like other ponies too?” Eris asked.

“Maybe a little,” he said with a sigh, “but mostly she just settled with getting me to resent other ponies less.”

“But it didn't work.”

“I didn't become a saint, but I would sure like to think it worked.” He shrugged. “Well, at least a little bit.”

“But you hate us.”

He groaned and rubbed his eyes. “Look, I don’t necessarily like all of the ponies here, but I've learned to reserve my hatred for ponies of a particularly despicable character. Like Celestia, and that bear.”

Eris cocked her head. “That bear?”

“Fluttershy had this bear friend. Harry, or Bearison, or something.” He clenched his fists as his whole body shook with barely-contained rage. “By the cosmos, I hated that bear,” he seethed.

“Um… but you don’t hate us?”

He loosened his body and sighed. “No, Eris. I don’t hate you.”

“Then why won’t you help us?”

“I can’t,” he said. “I bet one of my friends in the old universe that I could run a better society than Celestia, and societies can’t perpetuate themselves if ponies aren't left to their own devices.” He shook his head. “As irritating as Celestia was, at least she was mostly hands-off.”

“So we’re a bet to you,” Eris said quietly.

Discord sat up. “No, no! Well, maybe they are,” he said, gesturing to the frozen crowd. “But you, I like. You’re fun. And nice. Like Fluttershy.”

“But I’m one of them.” She hopped off his chest, flitting her wings to slow her fall. She trotted over to the crowd and posed, as if she had been running with them. “It’s all of us or none of us.”

Discord smirked. “Since when did you get so effective at negotiation?”

“I picked it up when I tried to stop you from naming the ponies really dumb things.”

Discord paused, and then laughed. "Very well," he said, standing up. "If you insist on an ultimatum, we'll do things your way." Eris dropped the pose and smiled. "I'll fill the role of the god-among-the-ponies; I"ll help society get under way; and I'll do my best to make things go smoothly, under one condition."

"What?"

“You tell me the real reason you never said anything before now.”

Eris looked to her hooves and blushed. “I… I was afraid to.”

“I see. I scare you.”

She met his eyes and waved a hoof frantically. “No! No, it’s not like that! I just--”

Discord slithered forward and embraced her gently. “You are just like her.” He pulled Eris into the air and snapped, and four hundred and ninety-nine ponies suddenly sprang back into motion. Screaming once again filled the air, ponies frantically fought their way through the mass, and Pebble Pusher’s face became acquainted with a large puddle of mud.

Discord held his hands over Eris’s ears and bellowed, “I WILL HELP YOU.” His voice shook the ground with its volume, and within moments the ponies had returned their attention to him.

“What did he say?”

“He’s going to help us after all?”

“Yes, yes,” he said bitterly. “I’ll help you.” He grimaced as half-smiles and incredulous laughter spread throughout the crowd. He held Eris forward with outstretched arms. “And you all have this one to thank for it.”

Somepony in the back began to cheer, followed by another, and another, until soon the entire mass was hollering praise with one accord. Even Pebble Pusher managed to shout, his joy intermixed with hacking fits as he cleared his mouth of the mud.

“What’s her name?” screamed one stallion. “What’s her name?”

“Eris!” their creator answered.

“Dis-cord! Er-is! Dis-cord! Er-is!” The ponies began an indefatigable chant, repeating the duo’s names over and over. Eris blushed a deep red and waved timidly at the excited crowd, and Discord himself couldn't help but revel in the adoration.

“Yes!” he shouted. “Yes!”

“Dis-cord! Er-is! Dis-cord! Er-is!”

“We will make the greatest society the cosmos have ever known! We will!”

“Dis-cord! Er-is! Dis-cord! Er-is!”

“And I will help you!” He began to laugh madly. “Together, we’ll show Sun-butt what’s what!”

The crowd continued its tireless roar long into the night, and Discord was more than ecstatic to soak it in for as long as it lasted. At some point (he had lost track of the time), he noticed Eris sleeping soundly in his arms despite the deafening noise. A small smile crept up on his face, this one more sincere and gentle than the mad grin he had been wearing as the crowd cheered him. He summoned a small golden bubble and placed Eris gently inside, and cast a soundproofing spell on its membrane.

He stretched his arms out again. “My little ponies! Please, stop your cheering for a moment!”

Within moments the ponies in the front obeyed, and the message relayed down through the mass of bodies until the crowd stood in silent expectation.

“My little ponies, we have some work to do.”

05. Foundations

Pebble Pusher put a hoof to his chin and fluttered his wings. “I don’t think it’s working.”

“Oh, it’s working,” Discord reassured him. “It’s working.”

On the ground between the two stood a wet, sloppy cube of packed mud. “Trust me,” said Discord. “It’s going to work.”

“What did you say is supposed to happen again?”

“The heat from the sun hardens the mud,” Discord explained, floating in midair on his belly. “Soon, you’ll be able to build things.”

“But didn’t you already do that for us?” Pebble Pusher pointed to the complex of buildings behind him. There were luxurious hotels, waterparks, restaurants, and amusement parks for the society of alicorns to enjoy, staffed at all hours of the day by rocks, sticks, and other objects animated by Discord.

“I did that so they could pass the time,” Discord grumbled. “Once you teach the rest of them how to do this, all of that’s going away.”

Eris poked her head up from where she had been lounging atop his back. “Aw, but why?”

“Because you can’t be self-sufficient if I do everything for you.”

“But after all of this, who’d want to live in a house made of mud?”

“What do you think I should do, then? Run everything myself so you ponies don’t need to do any work?”

“Yes,” Eris and Pebble Pusher said in unison.

Discord chuckled. “It didn’t take very long for the vice of sloth to infect my little ponies,” he mused.

Pebble Pusher tentatively poked the mud cube, and frowned when his hoof created an impression. “It’s not hardening, your highness. Are you sure it’s going to work?”

“Oh, ye of little faith.” Discord scratched his chin. “Although, this is taking quite a while…” A lightbulb appeared over his head. “Alicorn magic!”

“What was that thing?” Pebble asked.

“Never mind that. See if you can use your magic to speed this up.”

“My what?”

“Your magic.” Discord tapped his forehead. “That little protrusion isn’t just for decoration, you know.”

Pebble reached up and touched his horn. “I can do magic with this?”

“Awesome!” Eris laughed.

“Most certainly!” said Discord with a grin. “See if you can heat this brick up, Pebble.”

“How?”

The spirit’s smirk melted into a frown. “Well… can’t you just do it?”

“I… I can try?”

“Very good!” There was a flash, and Discord and Eris found themselves seated in plush, leather chairs, tubs of popcorn in their laps and cups of soda in the chairs’ arms. “Impress me,” said Discord as Eris emphatically shoved her face into her popcorn.

“Alright…” Pebble gulped. He spread his legs and lowered his head, pointing his horn at the brick. He shut his eyes and his muscles visibly clenched. Discord watched in amusement as Pebble began to groan and sputter, focusing all of his effort and willpower, he hoped, into his horn.

Nothing happened. He collapsed to the ground, panting. “That… didn’t… work…”

“Try it again,” ordered Discord.

“What?” A bottle of water appeared and forced its contents down Pebble’s throat, while a wet cloth materialized and mopped his forehead. His body glowed golden as the bottle and cloth disappeared, and Discord levitated his body back into position.

“Try it again.”

Pebble’s face scrunched as he redoubled his efforts. Discord fought to stifle laughter as Pebble’s body shook with strain.

On the other seat, Eris frowned. “Discord…”

Pebble collapsed once more, gasping for breath. “That… did… not… work…”

“Try it again!”

“Try… it… again?”

“Try it again.” Another bottle and cloth appeared to freshen him up, and Pebble was put back into position.

“Discord, I don’t think he can do it,” said Eris, with a concerned glance to the panting stallion.

“Oh, you don’t have enough faith in your compatriot. He just needs to try harder.” He held his muzzle in mirth as Pebble fell to the ground once more.

“No… luck…” he sputtered.

“Try it again!”

Eris hopped out of her seat, fluttering to a gentle landing between Pebble and Discord. “Discord, you’re pushing him too hard.”

“Nonsense,” he retorted, leaning forward. “He just needs to give it twice as much effort.”

“I… was…”

“Four times as much,” Discord corrected. “There was a saying in the old universe, you know. ‘He who tries four times as hard accomplishes making mud into bricks.’”

Eris cocked her head. “Ponies said that?”

“Absolutely. Now--”

“Discord,” she pleaded, “why don’t you just… show him how to do it yourself?”

“Show him?”

She nodded. “Yeah! You do magic all the time, right? How do you do it?”

Discord leaned back into his seat and stroked his beard. “Well, I just sort of… think of what I want to do, and it happens.”

Eris turned to Pebble. “Try that.”

“Try… thinking about it?” he asked, standing up.

“Yeah. Just think about it really hard.”

Pebble leaned down again and closed his eyes. Eris and Discord waited. And waited.

And waited.

“This is stupid,” Discord complained. “It was at least entertaining to see him strain himself.”

Pebble raised his head. “What?”

“I said, clearly this isn’t working.” The chairs disappeared in a flash as Discord snaked himself over to Eris. “Any more bright ideas?”

She bit her lip. “Maybe… if you two touch, he could feel your magic.”

Discord laughed. “It’s almost as if you don’t know how magic works!”

“We don’t,” said Pebble.

Discord reached over and flicked his snout.

“Just try it,” Eris whined.

“Oh… fine.” Discord stood up, raising Pebble into the air under his arm. “I guess as long as I can find an excuse to express my utter devotion to my adorable little playthings,” he sang as he squeezed the pony, eliciting an inexplicable squeak.

“Can we just… get this over with?” Pebble wheezed.

Discord channeled his magic, and, to his surprise, realized that he could sense Pebble’s stock of magic. “Hey, I can feel your magic in there,” he said.

“Good?”

Discord weaved his magic into Pebble’s supply, using his magical influence to gently push the flow into his horn. Soon, Pebble’s horn glowed golden. “Can you feel that?”

“I… I can!” he said, grinning. “I can feel that!”

Discord shifted Pebble into his hands and aimed him like a rifle at the brick. “Now, pay attention to how this feels.” Discord gently pushed Pebble’s magic to exit his horn. It began to glow a deep maroon, and a beam of light shot out into the brick. Eris could feel the brick begin to radiate heat; after several seconds, she was forced to retreat.

Finally, Discord stopped, and Pebble’s magical flow stopped in turn. His horn returned to normal, a wisp of dark smoke wafting into the air from its tip.

“Did you get that?” Discord asked, setting him on the ground.

“Yeah; it felt weird.” He turned to the brick. “Do you think it worked?”

Discord reached with his lizard claw and gave the brick a tap. It was hard as a rock. He flashed Pebble a grin. “As hard as Sun-butt’s skull.”

Eris cheered, hopped over to Pebble, and embraced him, her tiny wings fluttering in excitement. Pebble blushed.

“Uh… yeah, we did it?” he stammered. “So what now?” he asked as Discord pried the filly off of him.

“You teach that little trick to everypony else, and you all get building,” Discord declared. He looked at Eris, shrugged, and held her out. “You can start with this one.”

~

How long does it take four hundred ninety-nine ponies to learn to use their magic to make bricks? It reminded Discord of the sort of inane riddles he would devise to confound Fluttershy. He knew he was a mastermind and could contrive a riddle out of nowhere if he had to, but it never hurts to stay in practice.

But boredom hurts. It wasn’t as easy as going off and amusing himself somewhere else; these ponies were competent enough to get the hang of it eventually, but not competent enough to do it without occasionally requiring his help. It always seemed like they needed him just when he was drifting off for a nap…

To answer his own question: seven days. It takes seven days for four hundred ninety-nine ponies to learn to use their magic to make bricks.

“That’s the last one,” Pebble finally said. “Now what?”

“Oh, if I weren’t immortal I would be so upset at you ponies,” Discord moaned, stretching his serpentine body; “if I had only a limited time in existence, you would have just wasted a week of it.” He felt a poke on his leg.

“Look, Discord!” Eris said. She pointed to a stack of small bricks she had made. “I made those all by myself!”

A malicious smirk found its way onto his face. He released a gentle puff of air, just enough to send her stack tumbling down.

She frowned. “Why did you do that?”

“We haven’t invented mortar yet,” he replied with a toothy grin. “You might have hurt yourself.”

Her lip quivered, and Discord was sure he had hit his mark. Eris puffed out her chest, however, and retorted: “With how lazy you are, it’ll be another five hundred years before we get to that.”

Discord’s eyes snapped open wide as he met her indignant gaze with his own vengeful visage. Several ponies around the two grimaced and backed away, murmuring amongst themselves. Discord and Eris stared each other down for what seemed like minutes, before their angry faces wavered.

“You have a point,” Discord muttered, struggling to keep frowning. “It might take a while.”

Eris’s lips curled upward, and she giggled.

“Especially if we keep taking breaks to try and scare each other.”

Eris giggled louder, dropping all pretenses. “I guess I lose!” she said, gasping for breath.

Discord laughed and turned to Pebble. “Now that my supremacy has been reestablished, I believe it’s time to teach you ponies to make buildings.”

Pebble's gaze, and that of numerous other ponies around, fell to the great resort in the distance. “Are you sure we can’t--”

‘Yes, I’m sure.” Discord snapped and crossed his arms. Behind his back the entire complex began to shake; the ground rumbled as the buildings disappeared from the horizon. The ponies looked on aghast, and several of them lowered their heads in despair.

“Well, I guess that’s that,” Pebble said sadly. “We have… bricks, anyhow.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad!” Discord said. “You can do plenty of things with bricks.”

“Like stack them,” said Eris with a smirk.

“Hey, now...”

“Well, let’s get on with it,” said a pony in the crowd. “We can’t just stay outside all day.”

“That’s the spirit!” Discord took to the air, placed a brick on top of another, and pointed. “Somepony blast these bricks where they meet.”

Eris hopped forward and blasted them with a red ray of heat. The junction between the bricks melted together. Discord picked up the now singular brick and showed it to the crowd. “This is how you connect bricks together. Use this to construct things.”

Smiles shone throughout the crowd as ponies began to try it themselves. Before long, there were random series of geometric bricks scattered about the landscape, but nowhere in sight did there arise a building. For her part, Eris had used her bricks to make one giant cube.

Discord sighed. “For the love of…” He snapped, and every individual brick separated from its neighbors. Several moans of dismay rain through the crowd. “You ponies need to plan before you make something. You can’t just expect to make it up as you go!”

A mare in the front raised a hoof. “How do we do it, then?”

Discord raised his paw, which began to emit a golden glow. The same glow separated dozens of bricks around him, and they flew through the air, arranging themselves in the shape of a hollow cube, complete with holes in the front for an entryway and windows. A series of “Oohs” and “Aahs” made their way through the crowd, and several ponies ventured inside.

“Do you think you ponies can handle this?” Discord asked. “I’ve learned not to put any amount of incompetence past you creatures.”

Ponies looked at each other with determination. In as little as an hour, a replica of Discord’s hollow cube had been built (helped along, Discord noted with pleasure, by their spontaneous ability to teach themselves how to levitate objects).

Discord teleported and stood atop their building, and began to clap slowly. “I must admit, my little ponies: you’ve impressed me.”

Five hundred ponies cheered.

“But I’m afraid you’re still not done.”

Four hundred ninety-nine ponies groaned; one filly cheered.

“Thank you, Eris. Now, there are five hundred of you. Two buildings isn’t enough to house five hundred ponies.”

“How many do we need?” Pebble asked.

“I’m going to leave that to you to figure out.”

“But it’s almost sundown!” a mare called. “We’ll never make it!” Cries of affirmation circulated through the crowd.

Discord tapped his foot in exasperation. “Alright, alright. Don’t have a cow, ponies.” He raised a single talon, and it glowed. A beam of light shone out, and from that point in the sky a golden bubble began to form around all of the ponies. They looked on in amazement as, outside of the bubble, time seemed to speed up: the sun visibly descended below the horizon; flocks of birds passed overhead at an astounding speed. In the span of a few minutes, the night was ending and the sun was rising on other side of the sky. Eris and several other young ponies watched with particular delight as a small flower just outside the bubble bloomed in fast-forward. Finally, Discord’s finger stopped glowing, the bubble dissipated, and it was tomorrow.

“There. You now have another day to get to work.”

The ponies got busy, still stunned by his power and more than willing to please him. He scooped Eris up and held her close. “How would you like to go play?”

“Really?” she asked with a wide smile. “You don’t want me to stay and help?”

He blew a raspberry. “Oh, poo. The rest of them are on it. They’ve got it covered.”

“Yay!” She wrapped her forehooves around him as far as they would reach.

“So what do you want to do?”

She thought for a moment. “Are there any fields of flowers around?”

He rolled onto his belly and set her on his back. “I don’t know; let’s find out.” She laughed shrilly as he took off in flight, his mismatched wings beating irregularly. Eris turned and looked at the ponies they had left behind, and her face fell slightly.

“Discord,” she said over the wind, “what about them?”

“I told you, they’ll be fine." The two remained silent for a time. "Do you like them?"

"Who? The other ponies?"

"No, the squirrels."

"Oh! Yeah, I love the squirrels. They're all so--"

"Yes, the other ponies."

"Oh." She huffed. "Well, you could have just said so."

"Whatever."

"Yeah, I like them. Why? Do you?"

"I guess they're alright."

"Do you remember Cosmic Ring?"

Discord thought for a moment. "A little indigo colt with a purple mane?"

"Yeah."

"Yes, I remember him. Why, have you been talking with him?"

"Uh-huh. He let me help him figure out how to do that heat spell you taught us."

"What a nice pony, accepting help from others."

She gave him a nudge. "Oh, come on. He was really nice."

He shrugged. "I'm sure he was a blast."

"And there's Pebble Pusher, too."

"I'm well aware of him."

"What do you think?"

He paused. "Well, he's a pony."

"I'm a pony," she said, chuckling, "and you obviously think more of me than that."

"What makes you so sure? Perhaps I feel nothing for you."

"You told everypony else that I was special." She blushed.

Discord thought back. "I suppose I did."

"So what do you think of Pebble?"

"Well..." He swallowed. Where was she going with this? "He seems to have a knack for leading. I'd feel the most comfortable having him babysit the rest of them."

"Do you like him?"

"Let's not get hasty..."

"Discord."

"Where are you going with this?"

"I think you'd have more fun if you got to know them all."

"Oh, I doubt that. That Pebble Pusher is a gigantic stick-in-the-mud."

"No he's not."

"Yes he is."

"No he's not."

"Either way, I highly doubt the rest of them will..." He coughed.

"Will what?"

"Didn't I make such pretty clouds?"

"Discord, you doubt they'll what?"

"...I doubt they'd really... like me."

She frowned. "Of course they'd like you! Why would you even think that?"

"You don't know my past, Eris. I've known many ponies, and befriended very few."

"Well, it's not like you've done anything wrong."

He wrung his hands. "Yeah... of course not..."

"They just need to get to know you. You're really fun."

His head rotated along his neck independent of the rest of his body. "I am?" he asked, his head now oriented as if he were on his back.

"Yeah! And you're funny."

"Oh, stop it. You're going to make me blush!"

She giggled. "See? I'm sure you'll make friends if you just give them a chance. You can't just have me be your only friend."

His smile wavered. "Why not? What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing."

"Well, aren't you humble."

"You know what I mean," she said with a smirk. "But don't you want more than one friend?"

"I'm fine with one, personally."

She bit her lip. "I mean, I understand that, but..."

"But what?"

"But I sorta... want to make more friends."

He blinked, and returned his head to its original position. "I see."

"No! It's not like that!"

"I understand."

"Discord..."

"Oh, that didn’t take long.” He lowered himself slowly to the ground, standing up as she disembarked. The two now stood in a lush field of green grass and flowers of varying color. Her mouth hung agape as she surveyed the landscape, hundreds and hundreds of brightly-colored jewels filling her vision.

“Are you alright?” He asked, smirking. “You’re squeaking.”

“Am I alright?!” She began to laugh madly. She bounded from where she had been standing and pranced around in the field. “Come on, Discord!” she laughed.

“I’m not exactly one for frolicking,” he replied, a bemused grin on his face.

She pranced over and wrapped her hooves around his leg, pulling with all her might. “You are now!” she said, giggling.

His grin widened as he followed her lead, falling onto all fours and bounding along with her. The field of flowers seemed interminable as they ran. He looked over to her and grinned; she looked to him and stuck out her tongue, running ahead of him. He watched her speed ahead and smirked. If it's a race she wants...

He poured his energy into his limbs and picked up speed. It wasn't long before he caught up to her. "Those stubby legs don't do you any favors!" he called as he passed her.

Not to be left behind, she pounced and grasped onto his tail. A reflexive shiver shook through him as he turned his head to look back. "What exactly do you think you're doing?"

"This is mine now," she laughed.

"Is it, now?" His tail disconnected from the rest of his body and fell to the ground. She screamed in fright at the amputated member, releasing her grip and backing away. From the severed tail grew a new Discord; the original Discord grew another tail.

"Well now," the two spirits said in unison, "it appears you're outnumbered."

She puffed her chest. "Not so, villain! These flowers will protect me!"

Discord and Discord exchanged glances. "What?"

"I said, these flowers will protect me!"

"Oh... oh, yes!" they said, catching on, "of course!" A handful of nearby flowers were enveloped in a flash, and in their places appeared flowery duplicates of Eris.

"Ha! It's six against two!" the real Eris boasted. "Surrender now, Discords!"

One Discord produced a white flag, which he waved before disappearing. The other said, "You can't possibly defeat me!"

"Flower Erises, attack!" Eris and her duplicates rushed him, jumping up and latching onto whatever they could reach, which invariably happened to be his legs and tail.

"My kickers!" he moaned in mock despair. "How will I ever tap dance again?"

Eris and her duplicates began scaling his body, tickling him as they climbed. "Stop!" he said between bursts of laughter. "Oh, cosmos, stop!"

Their efforts redoubled, as they targeted his armpits, stomach, and neck. "You're cruel!" he cackled. "You're all cruel!" Finally his knees wobbled and he fell to the ground. Eris's flower duplicates exploded into piles of petals. "This means war," Discord said with a mischievous grin. He seized Eris and began to tickle her mercilessly.

"Eek! Stop!" she said as she laughed. "Discord, stop!"

"Where was the mercy when I was the victim, huh?"

She wriggled out of his grasp and ran. "You can't catch me!"

"I do believe we've been through this before." He teleported right in her path, causing her to fall to the ground after colliding with him. "You can't escape me." His fingers retreated into his hands and were replaced by feathers.

"No!" she shouted.

"Yes!" He cackled as he began to tickle her again. When she could stand no more, she grabbed a feather in her teeth and pulled, ripping it from his hand. He looked at her, eyes wide. She met his gaze and stopped giggling.

"Did I..."

His shocked expression slowly morphed into a mischievous grin as his real fingers slid back into place, sending the rest of the feathers fluttering to the ground. They both laughed heartily, picking up feathers and tickling each other.

Finally, exhausted, they collapsed onto their backs in the grass.

“That was so much fun!” she said.

“I have to admit, you know how to show a draconequus a good time,” he replied as she began to yawn deeply. “I don’t know how I’d last without you, Fluttershy.”

His eyes bugged out and he hurriedly looked to the filly.

She finished her yawn. “What did you say?”

He averted his gaze and tapped his forefingers together. “I said… yeah, that was fun.”

She giggled. “We should do this every day.”

“Yeah… we should…”

The two laid together in silence for several minutes. "Discord," she finally said, "I really didn't mean it like that, back there."

He yawned. "Oh, I know what you meant. You perfectly enjoy my company, but you don't want me around you constantly, because you want to make other friends."

"Please don't be mad at me."

He chuckled. "I know ponies are social creatures, my dear."

"So that means--"

"No, I'm not mad at you."

She sat up and hugged him. “Should we go check on everypony else?”

“Personally, I was hoping to get a little shut-eye.”

“Well, could you take me back first? I really would like to help them out.”

He groaned and stood up. “Why do you have to be so… responsible?”

She hopped up and shrugged. “I just am.”

He levitated her up onto his back and took to the air. On the trip back, he couldn’t stop his thoughts from drifting to what he had said to her.

When they had returned, the other ponies had finished a handful of buildings. They greeted the two happily, stopping to wave and wipe the sweat from their foreheads before delving back into their work. Eris hopped off his back and slowed her fall with the flutter of her wings. She lent him a smile and a wave, and ran off to give her assistance.

Discord slowly waved back and stood for a moment, unsure of what he should do next. Finally, he disappeared with a flash and materialized atop the nearby mountain. He summoned two palm trees and hammock, laid down and closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep, finding some amount of comfort from his troubled thoughts in the giant likeness of Fluttershy beneath him.

01. A Minor Inconvenience

“And that’s how Equestria was made,” Pinkie said between bites of sandwich.

Her tablemates looked on silently, confusion clear in their five bright pairs of eyes (and in one pair notably more sickly and yellow).

Rainbow Dash scratched her chin. “I thought this was the story of how you got your cutie mark.”

“I was under the impression that we were discussing Mr. and Mrs. Cake’s vacation last Summer,” Rarity said, enveloping her teacup in a bright blue aura and lifting it to her mouth.

“I’m all for things that don’t make sense,” Discord mused, “but it makes for a decidedly less entertaining story.”

On the other side of the circular table, Twilight nodded. “I’m with Discord on this one.”

Pinkie, who meanwhile had been vigorously licking her plate, raised her head. “You guys didn’t like my story?”

“It ain’t that, Sugarcube,” said Applejack. “It was just a bit… hard to follow.”

“What was hard to follow about it?” Pinkie asked, her head cocked to one side.

Applejack averted her eyes. “Well, it’s just… the beginning part was a mite iffy, an’ the middle coulda been a little, uh…”

Pinkie said nothing, her confused gaze unbreaking.

“I thought the story was nice,” a soft voice interjected.

Pinkie’s head straightened and she gestured wildly at Fluttershy. “See? Somepony gets it!”

Fluttershy bit her lip. “Um, well, I didn’t say that…” Pinkie froze, and the table was silent.

Discord sputtered. “It looks like my wit is rubbing off!” He put his hands to his stomach and fell backward, convulsing in laughter.

Rainbow Dash giggled in spite of herself, and soon all of the table’s occupants, Pinkie included, were roaring in laughter, only pausing to investigate the source of a mighty crash. An overburdened waiter had tripped over Discord’s neck, reverting a tray of fragile dishes to a pile of shards on the ground.

“Oh, dear,” Rarity giggled, wiping a mirthful tear from her eye. “Discord, do be a dear and assist the poor stallion.”

Discord heaved himself off the ground, his spasms winding down. With a snap and a flash, the dishes were repaired, refilled, and replaced immaculately on the waiter’s tray. With a huff, he scurried off to his next table.

“I don’t know why you ponies should be so mystified at the pink one’s story,” Discord said when he had calmed himself down. “It makes no less sense than anything else in this society of yours.”

“Whaddya mean?” Rainbow asked. “Everything makes perfect sense until you go around and cause trouble.” The other ponies nodded, except for Fluttershy, who sipped uncomfortably at her tea.

Discord shrugged. “Oh, perhaps in the short term I cause pandemonium, but you need to look at the big picture.”

“Ooh, what big picture?” Pinkie asked excitedly. “Is it in one of those big picture books, like the ones the Cakes have me read to Pound and Pumpkin?”

“Actually, yes.”

“I thought that was just a metaphor,” said Twilight. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about this.” Discord snapped, and in his arms suddenly sat a large brown book.

“A Foal’s History of Equestria?” Twilight read, squinting to read from the other side of the table.

“I thought we already agreed that Pinkie’s story didn’t make a lick of sense,” Applejack said.

“True, but I’m referring to the actual history of Equestria,” Discord replied with a smirk at Pinkie, who simply shrugged and resumed licking her plate.

“What do you mean?” Twilight repeated. “It’s already relatively well-known how apocryphal much of Equestrian history remains.”

“Relatively what now?” Rainbow asked.

Twilight let out an imperceptible sigh. “I mean, ponies already know how sketchy a lot of what we know about history is.”

“You callin’ us stupid?” Applejack asked, pointing an accusatory hoof at Discord.

“My little ponies, you’d remain ignorant even if I weren’t around to point it out,” he replied with a chuckle.

Applejack retracted her arm and crossed her hooves. “Just ‘cause I’m a farmer don’t mean I ain’t got no book-learnin’.”

Rainbow brought a hoof to her chin. “I think I get it. He’s saying that it doesn’t make sense how Applejack got through school and still talks like that!”

“Pardon?” said Applejack with a glare. Rainbow erupted into a fit of giggles.

“That wasn’t very nice, Discord,” Twilight said.

Discord set the book on the table and raised his hands, palms out. “Hey, I said no such thing. If you want to point a hoof, aim it at Miss Crash.” A brown hoof emerged from his stomach and pointed at Rainbow. “Of course, I’d be happy to do it for you.”

Twilight shook her head. “So if it’s not Applejack’s ostensible education that you’re referring to, what is it?”

Discord’s stomach hoof scooped up the book and held it parallel to the table. “Like I said, my uneducated equines, you need to look at the big picture.” He opened the book and, like an impossibly large pop-up, a drawing of Princess Celestia controlling the sun and the moon rose high into the air.

The ponies looked up at the giant picture with looks of varying confusion, minus Fluttershy, who donned a look of understanding, and Pinkie, who continued to sloppily lick her plate.

“Yer losin’ me,” said Applejack.

An exasperated Discord brought a palm to his face. “Fluttershy,” he said, looking down at the mare, “you’ve listened to me express my grievances against pony society. Surely you understand what I’m getting at.”

Fluttershy nodded, not meeting his gaze. “I think I do.”

“Well, tell us then,” demanded Rainbow Dash. “I’m tired of this guessing game.”

Fluttershy opened her mouth to speak, only for it to be literally zipped shut. She cast a glare up at Discord.

“I’m sorry, Butterball, but your friend just gave me a wonderful idea.”

Rainbow raised an eyebrow. “I did?” Discord nodded emphatically.

“Oh,” groaned Twilight after a moment. “He wants to play a guessing game.”

“And if that were what you’re guessing, Princess Twilight, you’d be our big winner!” Discord snapped his fingers. Though nothing occurred, the ponies reflexively flinched.

“So, what’re we guessin’ then?” asked Applejack.

A bright light emanated from Discord’s body, and soon the entire area was engulfed. When the light faded, the ponies found themselves behind five wooden podiums, with buttons on the top. They looked about at their new location: a small room, with walls checkered with different shades of blue. To one side stood the rest of the ponies that were at the other tables, roped off as a kind of audience. To the other side, small yellow lights decorated the checkered wall, creating a sunlike pattern.

Across the floor, Discord, now wearing a blue top hat with a yellow stripe, a yellow bowtie, and small circular glasses, stood behind a yellow microphone. To his side stood Fluttershy, her mouth still zipped shut.

The ponies in the audience looked around, their expressions varying from bewildered to irritated. “Where are we?” a mare asked.

“Oh,” said a stallion. “It’s Discord.” The crowd let out a collective groan.

“When can we go home?” another stallion asked.

Discord crossed his arms. “As soon as these ponies guess the correct answer.” Some of the audience ponies sat down on the floor, knowing by now not to question the spirit.

“Discord,” said Twilight, “was this really necessary?”

Discord nodded. Fluttershy shrugged and mumbled.

“Alright, alright,” said Applejack. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Excellent!” Discord laughed and rubbed his palms together. “Let us begin!” The top of his hat swung open like a hatch. “Question,” he said, his voice seeming to come from the hat itself. “Can you identify this pony?”

The wall with the sunlike pattern glowed, and was replaced by the same image as before. Pinkie slammed her face down upon her button.

Bzzz!

“Pink one?” Discord asked.

“Princess Celestia!” Pinkie answered.

A glowing red circle rose from inside Discord’s hat before falling back down. “Correct!” The image on the wall morphed into another, this one a likeness of one of the stained glass windows in Celestia’s castle. “Question. Identify this historical event.”

Bzzz!

“Pink one?” Discord asked, pointing a talon.

“Princess Celestia and Princess Luna turning Discord into a statue!”

The glowing circle  bounced out of Discord’s hat once more. “Correct!”

Bzzz!

“Yes, Princess?”

“I think I know the answer,” said Twilight resolutely. “You’re upset because you were defeated, and weren’t able to plunge Equestria into chaos.”

Rainbow hovered in the air and pumped her arm. “You go, Twilight!”

Out of Discord’s hat, a glowing red X appeared. “Oh, I’m sorry,” said Discord, grinning, “but that’s not the answer we’re looking for. Toodles!”

Twilight blinked. “What?” With a flash, she disappeared. The audience gasped.

“Relax,” Discord said with a frown. “I just put her back.”

After a moment, a mare in the audience spoke. “You sent… her home?”

“Yes.”

“In that case, I think… I think I know the answer!”

Discord narrowed his eyes. “You’re not part of the game.” The mare hung her head, defeated.

Applejack tapped her hoof. “Can we get this movin’ along?”

The image on the wall morphed into another; this one looked like it belonged in the same picture book as before.

“Question. Identify this--”

Bzzz!

“...Identify this--”

Bzzz!

“...Iden--”

Bzzz!

Bzzz!

Bzzz!

“Pink one!”

“Princess Celestia sending Nightmare Moon to the moon!” Pinkie shouted.

“Correct,” Discord said, his voice lined with impatience.

Bzzz!

“Yes, Apples?”

Applejack stood up on her hind legs, leaning onto the podium. “I’d like to take a crack at this.”

“And your guess is?”

“Yer sore ‘cause Celestia don’t allow evil menaces to run hogwild!” She disappeared with a flash.

Discord sighed. “So,” he said, sweeping his arm to the remaining contestants, “it’s down to the daring Rainbow Dash, the lovely Miss Rarity, and the pink one. Now--”

Bzzz!

Bzzz!

Bzzz!

Bzzz!

Pinkie disappeared.

Discord clenched his fists. “Well, Dash and Rarity, anyway.” Beside him, Fluttershy sighed. “Now, identify this--”

“Now, wait a minute,” said Rainbow. “Can we just skip the pictures and cut to the chase?” Several ponies in the audience murmured their assent.

Discord ripped off his bowtie, which exploded into confetti. “Fine! Remember the Crystal Empire? Who made it disappear?”

Bzzz!

“Rarity!”

“The dreadful King Sombra,” Rarity answered.

“And why was he imprisoned?”

She batted her mane. “Because the way he treated the crystal ponies was positively ghastly, and completely unbecoming of royalty.”

With a flash, Discord appeared next to her, leaning over her podium. “Yes, but more generally?”

Rarity hesitated. “Because… he was evil?”

“And why?”

“...Because the way he treated the crystal ponies was--”

“You ponies don’t get it!” Discord grunted. “Do I need to spell it out for you?”

Nopony spoke, until a stallion in the audience raised a hoof. “Yes!”

Discord’s eye twitched. He ripped off his hat, threw it on the floor, and clasped his head. “Sweet cosmos, you ponies are all so dense!” After another blinding flash of light, the room had disappeared, and everypony found themselves back outside, at their tables.

Discord himself, no longer clad in his outfit, hovered back to his seat. “How do I even live with such dim creatures?” he asked, rubbing his temples.

“Hey,” Pinkie said with a giggle. “He sounds just like Twilight!”

Across the table, Twilight blushed. “Did you figure out the answer, girls?”

“No!” Discord shouted, slamming his fists on the table. “By the cosmos, Twilight, you’re not the brightest bulb in the box, but compared to these simpletons, you’re an absolute--”

Fluttershy cleared her throat. Discord cracked his eyes open and glanced around the table, the ponies’ resentful glances not escaping his notice.

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, no. They didn’t figure it out.”

“You shoulda seen him, Twi,” Rainbow complained. “After you left, he showed us Nightmare Moon and King Sombra, and he kept asking why they were evil!”

“Where are you going with this, Discord?” Twilight asked.

Discord sighed. “What do the events behind my imprisonment, the imprisonment of Nightmare Moon, and the imprisonment of King Sombra all have in common?”

“You mean besides the imprisonment part?”

Discord silently nodded his head and Twilight put her hoof to her chin.

Pinkie bounced in her seat. “Ooh, ooh! The Elements of Harmony?”

“Now, wait a moment, dear,” said Rarity. “If I remember correctly, Princess Celestia didn’t use the Elements against King Sombra.”

“Us?” Rainbow asked.

“Were you there when Nightmare Moon was imprisoned?” Discord asked flatly, tapping his talons on the table and holding his head in his paw.

“Oh, right.”

Finally, Twilight looked up. “Well, all three threats were from ponies, or, in your case, draconequi, who threatened Princess Celestia’s rule over Equestria.”

Immediately, Discord burst out of his seat into the air, and the sky was filled with the explosions of fireworks shaped like letters. The ponies at the restaurant looked on as the letters T-W-I-L-I-G-H-T-S-P-A-R-K-L-E-I-S-N-O-T-A-N-I-D-I-O-T further brightened the afternoon sky. He slowly fluttered down back to his seat. “Yes,” he said after a moment. “That is the answer. Princess Sunflank tolerates political foes like Applejack tolerates vampire fruit bats.” He cast a contemptuous glance down at the mare. “Stupidly.”

Applejack growled. A squeak escaped Fluttershy’s zipped mouth.

“Perhaps she is quick to imprison her foes,” said Rarity, laying a hoof on Applejack’s shoulder, “but you can hardly argue with the results.” Discord crossed his arms. “I mean, from our perspective.” She blushed.

Rainbow took to the air and hovered just above the table. “Yeah, stupid or not, she gets the job done.” Noticing Twilight’s annoyed glare, she added, “I mean, not that Princess Celestia is even stupid in the first place…” She shook her head and pointed a hoof at the creature. “I’d like to see you run a better society!”

Discord opened his mouth to respond when Fluttershy gestured to her mouth. He snapped, and the zipper disappeared.

“Maybe it would be best if we talk about something else,” Fluttershy said, rubbing her jaw tenderly.

“Look,” said Discord, “all I was saying is that it makes little sense to me that political challenges are met with swift and immediate annihilation.”

Twilight nodded. “And I understand your point, Discord, but…” She noticed Fluttershy’s pleading face. “But Fluttershy’s right. There’s been enough conflict for one afternoon.”

“There’s one thing I still don’t get, though,” interjected Pinkie.

“And what’s that, Sugarcube?” asked Applejack.

“What didn’t make sense about my story?”

Applejack swallowed. “Uh, Twilight, you read a lot. You know a thing er two ‘bout stories, dontcha?”

Twilight grinned and gestured to herself with a forehoof. “Oh, yes. I’m rather educated when it comes to narrative structure, if I do say so myself.”

Discord leaned over the Fluttershy. “Hey, Flutterbutter, check this one out. Whenever she says something the pink one probably won’t understand, I’ll send a spark across the table.” He chuckled. “Visual humor!”

“Discord, that’s not nice,” Fluttershy said. “But… you’re going to do it anyway, aren’t you?” Discord nodded, his face still plastered with his snaggletoothed grin. Fluttershy couldn’t help but smile back. “Oh, what am I going to do with you?” She rubbed his side affectionately.

“So, Pinkie,” continued Twilight, “the first thing I noticed about your story is that a lot of the things that happened didn’t seem to have much of a connection to the things that happened before.”

Pinkie cocked her head. “What do you mean?”

“Like, sometimes an event would occur in your story that seemed to be completely out of nowhere. If you don’t make a logical connection to what precedes it, ponies will find it hard to take your story seriously.”

Pinkie’s head sunk. “Did I do it too badly, Twilight?”

Twilight bit her lip. “Well, it wasn’t all that way, but particular points were rather egregious--”

Instantly, the restaurant and all of its patrons were completely vaporized. A giant fireball rocketed into the air as an enormous shockwave exploded outward. In a microsecond, all traces of Ponyville and its denizens were erased. A microsecond later, the entire Everfree Forest erupted into flames before being completely destroyed. Superheated air laid waste to the nearby city of Cloudsdale, combusting the city and all of its residents in an instant. The explosion spread as fast as ever, obliterating Canterlot and the surrounding mountains within the second. Moments later, the Crystal Empire was met with its own fiery destruction, as the crystal ponies had barely an instant to process the sight of the giant, thundering wave of fiery destruction before being utterly annihilated. Equestria as a whole was completely leveled, the lives of hundreds of millions of ponies brought to a sudden end. The explosion continued its course, spreading first to the Griffon kingdom to the East, and then to the Dragon domain in the South. The entire planet rocked with the force of the explosion, and within moments was engulfed in flame before exploding like a bomb itself. The cosmic explosion rocketed through the solar system, obliterating any and every astronomical bodies it encountered, and causing nearby stars to release their energy all at once. The destruction continued unceasing until everything in the entire universe had been reduced to particles, and those particles into smaller particles. Within seconds of the astounding event, the entirety of the universe was completely empty, bereft of particles and ponies alike. Absolutely nothing remained after the blast; in but an instant, the universe was dead.

Except for Discord. He looked around, surveying the unceasing black of the eternal void, sensing that all space and time had been completely erased. There was nothing but Discord. The unceasing inky darkness held only Discord, and for the infinitely large plane of oblivion, the planets and the stars and the ponies existed only as memories and concepts within Discord’s mind. For there was nothing. Nothing, that is, except Discord.

He looked down at his fingers, which had snapped but a moment ago, back when the universe held other things. “...Oops.”

06. Another Minor Inconvenience

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.