Rampant

A huge chandelier, the kind big enough to squash a pony flat if the chain snapped, lit the party room nearly by itself. Underneath it was the dance floor, half of it filled with ponies mingling and the other half grooving, and spotting the walls were tables filled with high-percentage alcohols. It wasn’t a Canterlot party, clearly, as the dress of all the partiers indicated: several were in suits, some in frilly skirts, but most in only their best cleaned-up duds. The suits, actually, were just collars and neckties, and the duds were just duds.

All kinds of ponies were enjoying themselves there, but two unicorns were taking prominence by the side of the dance floor. One, the nicest suited of all, was an able-bodied white stallion, his shiny silver mane and moustache crowned beneath a horn that looked like he actually polished it every morning. His cutie mark was less impressive, just a hollow black square, but all eyes lay on his full, barely wrinkled smile.

While a glass of brandy levitated in a silver glow beside him, the stallion patted a hoof on the shoulder of another handsome colt beside him. He said, “All right, all right, just one more toast. You’ve still got time before you have to go. Does anypony mind one more toast for this fine pony?”

All those around him raised their glasses and cheered, though one or two of them were raising entire bottles. The pony upon whom so much attention was being lavished, a stallion in his own right, though a little smaller than the white one, wore a much subtler smile. While the white stallion was large and handsome, this pony was dainty and elegant.

His coat was an underspoken yellow, slightly dullish, but with a shampoo-driven sheen to rival that of his host’s. His mane was cut extremely short, just enough at the top to remain swept back in crisp curls held in place by further product, trimmed constantly shorter as it trailed down to his back. Its color was blue, not bright or dull, but the exact same shade as a perfect summer sky. It was a color seen only on him this day.

All he wore was a long blue vest, one shade darker than his hair, with gold buttons big enough to almost look gaudy, and yet they remained in the realm of that which was fashionable. It flexed tight as the colt reached back to the stallion, patting him twice in return before they both lowered their hooves.

“Though I’m sad to leave our sweet town for even this short stint away, it’s all of you I’ll miss the most,” the colt said, still smiling as he met eyes with all the ponies gathered around him. He spoke quieter than his toast-bearer, but articulated each word. He next looked back to the stallion. “Of course your company will be equally missed, Mayor Virtue. I know all my disciples here are in capable hooves while you remain.”

Posh Virtue smacked a hoof against the colt’s back again, chuckling enough for his glass to rattle even through magic. “One more night! Nopony’s going to ambush you if you leave one day later. Your cavalier would take care of it even if they did. Stay one more night, just so we can get you properly inebriated before all your busywork in Fillydelphia!”

The colt only sighed, shaking his head in obvious woe. “Alas, my work is too important to put off. I have to leave by hour’s end, at the latest. Just imagine, my bride waiting all night in the carriage for me when I decide to drink the night away instead. I’ll be better than that to her.”

“Never mind her,” Virtue said. “Better yet, invite her up!”

The circle around them cheered again, half of them swigging right after. The colt narrowed his gaze at Virtue, but kept smiling. “I might, but one need only look out a window to be reminded of why I really must make haste.”

The mayor took a long sip from his drink. He sighed upon releasing the glass from his lips, staring into space for a moment. “Ah. Indeed.”

The colt patted Virtue on the shoulder again. He said, “Don’t worry, nothing will happen. I’ll send my entourage back to Ponyville immediately after I reach Fillydelphia. I doubt those corpse eaters are faster than my little knight, yes?”

“Right you are, Purple Heart,” Virtue said, levitating his glass higher in agreement before taking another sip.

Purple Heart lowered his hoof again from Virtue’s shoulder, nodding farewell to the partiers around him. While they kept raising incoherent cheers to him, he finally turned from Virtue to slip out from the encirclement. Before he could completely escape, one of the more intoxicated and high-pitched partiers cried, “Maybe you’ll get your cutie mark for this, too! You deserve it, headmaster!”

All the ponies still in control of their senses hushed, though as few still were, not much of the scene changed. Purple Heart paused on his way to the exit, glancing back to the mare who had cheered for him. Settled-in wrinkles made their way to his brow as he narrowed his gaze. He said in a lower tone, “Flattered. Thank you.”

Virtue still grinned, though he withheld another chuckle. The mayor looked from Purple Heart to his own glass, shaking the last few drops in it.

“Well,” Virtue said, “I think all these sad notes merit a refill. Anypony else?”

Rampant

Ponyville, Part One

Ch. 2: It’s A Family Thing

Canterlot still burned in the distance. From atop Ponyville’s hefty wall, the north plains lay bare of any obstacles to block the view. Only stumps and bushes next to them dotted the land, every tree long chopped down, nothing pretty left. Raindawn, atop the wall, kept watch through a slumped gaze.

Though he wore the station helmet for guard duty, he still had on his necktie from school. It was a very light blue silk, the color of diamonds, a rich shade on a rich material. A proud material, a prouder color. Though Raindawn was resting his neck on one of the wall’s parapets, he kept back enough for his necktie to swing free from the dirt on the barricade.

Raindawn’s eyes had long glazed over. They were baby blue, just a shade different from his uniform. Though his mane was brushed back underneath his helmet, a few stray strands were tucked behind his ear, and they fell over his face constantly. Even as he blew them off every few minutes, they just swished over again. That was his entire activity on guard duty—while the sight of smoke coming from Equestria’s greatest city was pretty exciting at first, after a few hours even that was boring.

He perked up a moment later; ponies were coming down the almost-road, a slight dirt trail still left over the years. Raindawn raised his head but squinted his eyes, spying four ponies and—

Oh, my.

—a zebra. Raindawn straightened up a little, automatically adjusting his necktie. He had never seen a zebra before. How exciting. Several minutes passed where all Raindawn felt comfortable doing was standing at attention, leering down in his most impressive manner at the newcomers.

Soon, they were in proximity close enough for him to call down, “Hail! Did you ladies come from Canterlot? Do you know what happened there?”

A pony with bouncy hair who was beside the zebra answered, her face nearly distorted through sniffles and tears. “We don’t know! Oh, it was so horrible—all the guards went crazy, and then all the doors slammed open, and suddenly everypony was running—they were all running, and we—they—”

The tears, gods, tears streamed down her face. Raindawn frowned, not from any part of the garbled tale, but from the emotional display below him. Another pony comforted her crying cohort with a squeeze around the shoulders.

“There were more with us, but they—they tripped. And then the—oh, heavens, the—the corpse eaters, thuh—”

Her cries grew louder. Raindawn stepped around from the parapet, leaning down to the ponies. “Uh—”

Nothing worthwhile crossed his tongue at first. He glanced between all the ponies, four in all, plus the zebra, counting only one unicorn amongst them; the unicorn had no bloodstains, and her gaze seemed to be rather more anxious than hungry or evil. They weren’t so threatening.

“Never mind,” he said. “I won’t make you recount that, okay? Never mind.”

The wettened pony made another pronounced sniff, her nose and lips quivering together.

“My sister owns a pub in town,” Raindawn said. “Take a left on the third avenue you cross, and it’s right there. I guess drinks will do you good.”

He leaned back up, turning to the gate’s crank behind him—but noticed the zebra again before that, the only one who wasn’t really paying attention to him. All the pony refugees, between comforting the one in distress, were eying him without trying to stare. The zebra seemed to be eying all of them in the same manner.

Which was natural, of course, for zebras. That was probably a thing zebras were known for. Raindawn broke his momentary gaze on her and trotted over to the crank, hoisting his forelegs onto the handles before shoving it into motion.

He raised the gate high enough for the travelers to pass under, the heavy sounds of the clanking mechanism covering up the residual sniffing he heard from below. Though he heard the ponies already trotting through, he walked back over to the edge of the wall, leaning far down just before they passed under him. “I helped decorate the place myself! The pub, I mean. If you tell my sister you’re refugees, she might even give you a discount.”

The crying pony nodded silently as she trudged on, but the pony still beside her looked back up at Raindawn and smiled. Raindawn opted for a nod back, for in his experience smiling was unprofessional.

“She probably won’t, though,” he added as they all passed underneath..

Raindawn trotted to the other side of the wall to watch them venture into town, seeing them whispering to each other now. These days, whispering wasn’t very suspicious; he was used to that.

He turned back to his post once more, his gaze wandering about the plains all empty again, plopping his chin on the parapet. He wondered what zebras drank.

-

Rainbow Dash was the first to mutter anything on the group’s way in. “Woah, what happened here?”

Ponyville was both bigger and smaller than the ponies remembered. The streets were narrow, even tight, and the houses nearly stacked atop each other; nearly all of them had two stories, some rising to three. Wooden walls were interspersed with brick ones, but the thatched roofs remained the same. Though windows were also still abundant, curtains were drawn behind all of them. As the group stood at the the main street, however, it was clear these quarters went on a much longer way than before.

Twilight and her friends walked forward quickly and quietly despite the new environment. They rounded the first corner they found before talking in earnest, Pinkie Pie’s sniffles ending as soon as they were out of sight from the gate.

“As much as I want to hear about what we’ve missed here,” Twilight said, turning back to the others, “we’ve got to deal with first things first. Pinkie, Zecora, do either of you know where Fluttershy lives now?”

Pinkie shrugged wide, cocking her head. “Gosh, Twilight, it’s been years since I’ve been here. Zecora and I have been looking for clues and playing sneaky-sneak this entire time, just to get ready for getting the band back together! I mean us when I say ‘the band.’ We’re the band, almost together again!”

Pulling away from Pinkie, Applejack brushed off the many tears spilled onto her own chest from consoling her friend. She looked around at the others and said, “You girls get Fluttershy without me. First thing for me is finding my family and my farm. I’ll meet up with y’all after that.”

“That’s a little vague for a working plan,” Twilight said. Applejack shrugged in turn, and Twilight frowned, continuing, “We need a location we all know to meet at; what if we stay in a group until we find—”

“The bar,” Rainbow said. “Of course it’s gonna be the bar.”

“There you go,” Applejack said, lifting a hoof toward Rainbow. “Y’all find Fluttershy, I go find my family. At least Apple Bloom and Big Macintosh; I know it’s hoping for a bit much that Granny Smith is still kickin’, but I’ve got to find out.”

Twilight checked the streets, peering around for anyone else who might be watching them. Zecora was already keeping a close eye on them. There were no sounds in the distance and no signs of life from any of the houses on the two streets they’d seen so far.

“All right,” Twilight said. “It’s not fair for us to tell you not to go. But after you find them, head straight to the tavern so we can start discussing strategy. Fluttershy will be a huge help.”

Applejack nodded, a bit of her mane sliding over her cheek as she did.

“And keep a low profile, okay? This isn’t the same old Ponyville. We don’t need a spotlight on us again until we have a plan.”

“Yes, ma’am. Of course, ma’am.”

Before Twilight could retort, Rainbow lifted a hoof to her shoulder and said, “She gets it. We all get it. Come on, let’s get moving.”

Zecora was already peering around one of the houses on the corner of the street, Pinkie Pie peeking around her. The zebra turned back to the rest of them, saying, “Rainbow Dash is correct. Better for us to move while the streets are clear.”

Twilight sighed. Applejack grinned before turning, offering only a few more words. “You still worry too much, Twi. I’ll see y’all at the pub later.”

They parted as Twilight reluctantly joined the others while Applejack continued down the side road. Applejack tossed her mane back away from her face, scoffing as her hair fell back over anyway. She wasn’t only missing her hat, but her ponytail holder; she must have been laid to rest with her hair loose, but why no one would have left her hat with her, she had no idea. Burials sucked.

The houses were getting taller at the end of the street. Thin lines of fabric were tied between the third-story windows, several linens clipped onto each one. Glancing further at them, Applejack noticed some neckties on the lines as well, each one the same color as that which the pony on the wall was wearing.

Her attention shifted as voices echoed closer from the end of the street, and as Applejack turned the corner, she found they were indeed the sounds of market. A further short corridor opened onto a much wider street, stalls distributed unevenly along its length. Some didn’t even have vendors behind them, though minor wares were set all around them anyway. The only ones occupied by ponies had food on display.

Applejack narrowed her gaze, sizing up the nearest ponies. Most of them had already noticed her. Only a few customers were browsing the market, inspecting wares and haggling prices with the vendors. Only one of the vendors hadn’t noticed Applejack at all, a badly-combed colt bouncing a head of cabbage on his nose.

She trotted up in front of his station, rows of carrots and cabbages for sale. The colt kept up his game, the cabbage bouncing perfectly straight up with each toss. Applejack cleared her throat and said, “Business any good today?”

The colt bounced a couple times more before pausing, still balancing the food on his nose as he glanced back to his guest. He smiled. “You buying? It’s all fresh.”

“I just need some directions,” Applejack said.

The colt bounced his cabbage some more. “Still costs you something.”

“Don’t got any bits,” Applejack sighed, shifting her weight onto one side. “Come on, now. Just tell me which way’s the shortest to get to Sweet Apple Acres.”

The colt held up, his studious gaze freezing on Applejack’s. His smile cracked into a grin as he chuckled, “Woah, what?”

He missed the cabbage in the next bounce, and it slid right past his nose and onto the dirt. With a thumpa, it rolled all the way around the stall just by Applejack’s hoof. The colt peered over and said, “I’ll wash it. It’s still good, don’t worry.”

“Sweet Apple Acres,” Applejack repeated. “I’ll be on my way if you just tell me how to get there. I don’t know any of these roads.”

The colt stepped around and leaned his snout to the soiled cabbage, nabbing it by the edge of a leaf. He dropped it back behind the stall and faced Applejack again, saying, “If it’s worth getting there, it’s worth paying for.”

“And I said I ain’t got any bits,” Applejack said. “Come on, do me a favor.”

The colt shook his head and chuckled, “Lady, I got a filly at home. She needs a roof to stay over her head. She needs schoolbooks. She needs a balanced diet. And I need money, okay?”

“Then we both got family we’re lookin’ out for,” Applejack said, her voice louder than a minute ago. “I’m goin’ to that farm even if I got to go in circles to find it, and you can either do a nice thing for somepony else or you can live the rest of your life coming to terms—”

She quieted to a whisper.

“—with bein’ a prick!”

The colt rolled his eyes even as his amusement stayed apparent. “Maybe if your plight has a story behind it. What’s your name?”

Applejack paused. “Uh—”

She wasn’t stupid enough at this moment to give her real name, and yet her mouth bobbed up and down as she stuttered, her eyes widening coldly as the seconds passed. She said, “Well, it’s, uh—”

The colt raised his eyebrows and leaned forward, waiting.

“My name is Boone,” Applejack said. “Boonehat. Ha, right on the tip of my tongue. Don’t you just hate that feeling?”

“Uh-huh,” the colt said. “You’re not one of the Apples, then?”

“Distant relative,” Applejack said in a hurry. “Been meaning to come back around Ponyville for a while now to see my kin, but the roads have changed since last I’ve been. Not sure which way is which around here.”

“You’re out of luck,” the colt said.

Applejack’s relief fell away from her expression. “What do you mean?”

“That farm’s been through all kinds of hell. Multiple kinds. Lots of hell. Nopony survived there.”

The dry coldness from her naming struggle moments ago struck her again much harder. Even though she was still looking at the colt’s face, she didn’t really see it anymore. He cocked his head at her and frowned. Her voice was already breathless.

“Which way?”

The colt sighed, “West gate, all right? Go southways on Main Street just over there, then right on Schoolhouse Plaza. The farm is pretty near outside the gates. If you tell the guards you’re a mourner, they might let you out there.”

Applejack was already running. The colt called after her, no effort in his voice to actually reach her, “They probably won’t, though.”

-

The other streets were even more devoid of townsfolk. Twilight and the others walked as quietly as they could, but their hoofsteps echoed anyway. They looked more conspicuous now than if they were dodging to the side of a crowd.

Twilight led the troupe. She kept glancing around, paying close attention to the houses. Though nothing much could be seen through them, almost none of the curtains were drawn in the windows. Some of them were even open, the drapes inside bristling whenever the wind moved through.

Twilight turned back to Zecora, at the back of the group, and whispered, “Why did—”

“Not yet,” Zecora said, nodding to the left. “We get inside first.”

The tavern came into sight just around the next corner. Advertisements for happy hour and weekly specials were pasted in the windows, and its name was painted over the door in an elaborate serif font: Light of Heaven. Off-kilter sunbeams were drawn over the name.

Twilight led everyone inside, and even inside there was almost no one. Only three staff loitered around the front, all of them cleaning something or another. But instead of a tavern, the place looked closer to a restaurant—tables dominated the space, flowerpots suspended over each one, and actual paintings hung labeled on the walls.

As they still stood at the entrance, Rainbow nodded at the staff and muttered, “Doesn’t look like they’ve been effected.”

“They have,” Zecora said.

The group selected a table closer to the back of the tavern, little cushions serving as chairs. They all leaned in close to each other as they sat down. Twilight hushed herself as she looked to Zecora and said, “All right, now it’s time for an explanation. What happened to Ponyville?”

Zecora shifted her weight a little, resettling on her cushion. She drew a breath and said, “This town has been the center of conflict between petty interests ever since the beginning of the bloodlust. The power that rules this town now is called the School of Rarity.”

Rainbow laid her forelegs on the table, her voice louder than the others’. “Hey, I actually remember Rarity helping start an art school back in the day—is this that? I don’t remember her naming it after herself.”

“I am not familiar with its original name, nor have I learned how its transformation occurred,” Zecora continued, “but under its current leader it has become a political force. The walls of this town were built by the school, and the militia that controls it are one of the school’s units. Nearly all citizens of Ponyville follow the school’s guidance.”

“It sounds like the parts you don’t know are the most important,” Twilight said. “An art school becoming a political institution—how? Why would the townsponies follow it?”

Zecora frowned. “It is the leader they follow. All I know of him for certain is that he knew Rarity, too, while she was alive. He’s used her image as a rallying point to bring everypony unto him, and amongst those in the school, she is more legendary than the Elements of Harmony as a whole.”

Twilight rubbed her chin. “Well, it sounds like this school might be the main reason Ponyville changed so much. Do you think they’ll be able to help us? Maybe they’ve done their own research by now.”

Pinkie Pie frowned as she shook her head. “Sorry, Twilight, but the school is kind of icky. I don’t think we can trust them.”

“What’d they do?” Twilight asked.

“Their goal is not friendship,” Zecora said. “Just self-preservation.”

“Well, I’d like to think one of our goals is self-preservation,” Rainbow retorted.

Pinkie Pie’s head lilted down. Zecora pulled away from the table and glanced back a moment toward the windows of the tavern, saying, “The school goes to greater lengths, and they seek ever more control out of it. You may get to see. Besides that, we know too little of what their leader still wants.”

Twilight leaned back, sighing. She looked between Zecora and Pinkie Pie, neither of them saying any more. Pinkie lifted both hooves and offered a huge shrug.

“Evening!”

Another unicorn was standing right behind the last seat at the table, the tavern’s name printed on the front of her apron. Several menus were hovering in the air next to her.

Everyone made a simultaneous glance. Rainbow replied, “Uh, hi.”

The waitress’s hair was done up in a bun that looked like too much effort had been put into it for work in a pub, but she smiled as she levitated the menus down next to everyone. “Welcome to the Light. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your scheming—just wanted to make sure you got a look at some of our specials. You all look new around here, though. Trying to start the night off easy, or you going straight for the hard stuff?”

Twilight twisted around on her cushion and smiled back politely. She said, “Actually, we were hoping to get some information.”

Rainbow turned and grinned wider. “Also hard stuff.”

“We’ve had a few close scrapes recently, you see,” Twilight said. “We just came from Canterlot, and we’re looking for an old friend of ours we hope can put us up for the next little while.”

“Oh, gods!” the waitress gasped, clasping a hoof over her mouth. “You escaped from that hell hole? What happened there?”

“Loose lips need drinks,” Rainbow said, raising a beckoning hoof.

“It was all a little much to talk about so soon,” Twilight said, slapping Rainbow’s hoof away. They glared at each other a moment as Twilight continued, “We’re all just dealing with it in our different ways right now.”

The waitress shook her head. “Wow. What can I do to help you all?”

Twilight shoved her hoof over Rainbow’s mouth before the latter could respond and said, “Do you know where Fluttershy lives? The streets all look a lot different since we last—”

“Oh,” the waitress said, “I can’t really say anything about her. You’d have to ask Gold.”

“You know Fluttershy, though?”

The waitress swayed her head back and forth a moment, her tone wavering the same way at first. “Yeah, but Gold would get mad if I talked about her. If you need directions to the dormitories or something, like, pretty much anywhere else, I can do that.”

Twilight freed Rainbow at a guttural protest and glanced to Zecora, but the zebra kept her gaze pointed at the menu. Twilight looked back to the waitress and said, “No, I don’t really think we need to go to the school, but who’s Gold? Can you tell us where she is?”

The waitress stepped back and pointed around at the bar counter. “Sure, she’s the owner. Miss Kennedy! Could you come over?”

Behind the edge of the bar, next to one of the liquor cabinets, a golden-maned earth pony was standing easily on a stool as she polished a landscape painting by hoof. Without turning, she called back, “Tell them to shove it up their asses. No discounts.”

“No, not that,” the waitress said, trotting away from the table toward her boss. “They had some questions for you. They’re from Canterlot.”

Kennedy Gold stopped her wiping and looked back to the table, a loose strand of hair from her half-assed ponytail dangling beside her face. Her eyes were a shade of pink as bright as her mane. Pinkie Pie waved at her, and Twilight straightened herself. Rainbow and Zecora just sat there, the former leaning her cheek onto her hoof.

Dropping her rag beside the painting, Kennedy turned and walked up to her customers with a temporary smile. “What can I do for you ladies, then?”

Twilight raised a hoof over her mouth and cleared her throat. “We’re old friends of Fluttershy, and we were hoping she could put us up for a few days now that, uh… well, while we figure out what we’re all doing next. It’s been a long time since we saw her, so we need directions to where she lives now.”

Kennedy stopped over an empty cushion by their table, but didn’t sit down. “What kind of old friends?”

Rainbow glanced at Twilight with a crooked brow. Twilight eyed her back, but replied to Kennedy, ”Good ones?”

“How’d you meet her?” Kennedy asked.

Pinkie tossed both her forehooves on the table and whistled. “Now that’s a doozy of a story!”

“Sometimes we helped her take care of her animals back in the day, and she used to take care of all our pets,” Rainbow said.

“Basically,” Twilight added.

Kennedy eyed them all closer. “Fluttershy hasn’t been in the animal business for a long-ass time now, believe me, and you don’t even look that old. What makes you think she’d put you up after all this time?”

Twilight lowered her tone a bit and said, “Honestly, I think that’s between her and—”

Rainbow sat up and cut in, shaking her head. “We were just young, innocent fillies back then. Being old friends goes past age, y’know? She was a part of all our fillyhoods. She’d definitely remember us.”

Kennedy glanced right at Zecora, who stared back only at the menu. “I see.”

“And if you give us directions to her place, we’ll all get out of your mane,” Rainbow said, patting both Pinkie and Twilight on the shoulders.

“I don’t think I will,” Kennedy said.

“Why not?” Twilight cried, slapping her own hooves on the table. Pinkie slammed her own hooves on as well, though her sudden frown didn’t share the same gravitas.

“I don’t know who the hell you are. You’re familiar, but that’s not a good thing by me,” Kennedy said, still eyeing Zecora in particular. “Maybe you’re not so bad. Who knows. So, how about this: I can introduce you to somepony else who can take you to meet Fluttershy personally.”

Rainbow wrinkled her eyes as she stared into space. “What?”

“It’s a guy I trust to keep you out of trouble around her. Your choice.”

“Fine,” Twilight said, rolling her eyes. “Where’s he?”

“Not here. He’ll be back sometime today,” Kennedy said.

“Sometime today?” Rainbow sputtered, joining the others as she smacked her hooves on the table.

Kennedy’s eyes curled into a glower as she frowned. “Better than sometime this week. You want to walk your asses out, that’s fine by me. Otherwise, you better order some goddamn drinks while you wait. Rush hour’s about to hit, and your table’s prime real estate for paying customers.”

After staying still nearly the whole time, Zecora looked up immediately. “Rush hour for whom?”

“Half the school,” Kennedy scoffed. “Early evening classes are getting out now, and we’re a big name in town. We’re about to get slammed.”

Twilight glanced at Zecora again, and this time the zebra looked back. Rainbow glanced between them both, looking clueless. Pinkie, however, slid one hoof closer to Kennedy, something scraping underneath—she lifted her hoof, and several bits lay exposed on the table.

She smiled big and bright again. “We’ll take five hard sugar malts, pleeease. One for each of us, and one for you!”

Kennedy’s expression shifted back to neutral as she scooped up the bits between her teeth. Before heading back to the bar, she muttered, “Thanks, but I don’t drink on the job.”

Everyone’s shoulders relaxed a bit over the next minute, even as a few young, necktied ponies entered the tavern with a laugh, absorbed in their own company. Twilight stooped a bit closer to the table, looking from the newcomers back to her friends, and whispered, “Maybe we should find my library first after all.”

“We’ll wait,” Zecora said, her gaze shifting between each of the students as more arrived loudly. “Listen to them in the meanwhile. You and Rainbow Dash can begin learning how better to blend in.”

“Hey, I was doing an awesome job,” Rainbow said, quieting herself as she pulled off of the table. She glanced back to Twilight. “And did you forget that’s we’re still waiting for somepony? So, yeah, we’ve got to chill for a while anyway. We can just pretend that we’re not undead if anypony asks.”

Twilight rolled her eyes, but her gut still felt uneasy. More and more students were trotting inside, colts and mares alike, all of them wearing the same necktie as the guard at the gate. Students were soon unapologetically jostling Twilight in the back as they moved between other tables, laughing like fillies telling fart jokes. She rubbed at her spine, keeping a nervous watch over the door for signs of Applejack.

But the tavern was filling up as fast as Kennedy said. Even an older colt, a graying beard bouncing off his chin, entered alongside more students. He wore the same tie as everyone else, but his had a silver pin stuck in the center.

“Booze and students of age,” Rainbow muttered over the rest of the noise. “Reminds me of just before I left Cloudsdale. Good times. I bet all they’re looking for now is a little of the old—”

Rainbow clapped her hooves together, but frowned a moment later. She waved one hoof around the other, and the confusion on her face grew as she kept motioning her hooves around each other, saying, “This gesture is harder to do than I remember.”

Twilight grinned a little despite her anxiety. Nobody was bothering them, despite the zebra at their table. A mare at the next table over, hair brushed delicately over her shoulder, was chatting idly with her peers about music theory of all things. Pinkie was still enjoying herself, giggling at Rainbow’s attempt at dirty talk, and Zecora was now avoiding eye contact with anyone around their table.

A murmur reached Twilight’s ear, though; by the look on Zecora’s face, it reached them both at the same time. Even over the increasing cries in the tavern, the word they heard came just clearly enough for them to both look back over to the entrance. “Zebra.”

The older colt stared agape right back at them, his wrinkled eyes wide and dark. He raised a hoof toward Zecora, stuttering a moment, then cried aloud, “Zebra!”

All the students nearby looked between him and his target, but most of them offered only a raised brow. Zecora stood up in an instant, her gaze as sharply focused now as when Twilight had first seen her again in Canterlot.

The colt took one step forward, in the same moment his whole face contorting in rage. “Grab the bitch!”

Rainbow and Twilight clambered up next, no plan in their heads yet but to do anything at all—and crashed back to the ground a second later, tackled like feathers by the students closest to them. Twilight gasped for breath despite herself as the music theory mare, now leaning into her chest, pressed a knee over Twilight’s throat and screamed, “Move another muscle and I’ll break all your fucking legs!”

Two more students grabbed Zecora at the same time, tangling their legs around hers and shoving her down. The colt marched over in front of her and said, “Take them all to the headmaster immediately. Consider yourselves excused from your next classes.”

“Headmaster’s already left on his mission,” one of the captors grunted.

“The mayor, then,” the colt snapped. “And keep a damn good hold on that zebra while you’re at it.”

Zecora stayed completely silent even as her head was mushed against the ground, but her gaze darted behind the colt. Kennedy and one of her staff cantered up toward the table, a tray of mugs hovering beside. Kennedy shoved a hoof into the colt’s shoulder and said, “What the hell is all this?”

“In the words of the headmaster,” the colt said, ignoring the provocation, “a revolution.”

Kennedy glanced down amongst her customers on the floor, even Pinkie having been grabbed. She looked back to the colt, shook her head, and turned back with her waitress to the bar. “Do what you need. Just stop making a mess in here.”

Rainbow glared back at Kennedy through a seething gaze. She squared her hooves against the floor and started pushing, lifting even the three students holding her down, muttering coldly, “You think we’ll just let you—”

“Do not do anything rash!” Zecora cried, her tone sterner yet.

Rainbow turned her gaze back at Zecora, but paused. She shook her head aside and grimaced as her captors stood her up, wrestling a better hold around her limbs.

The colt gestured his head toward the door, and Zecora was pulled back up by her forelegs before the others were as well. Hoisted up and dragged along behind, Twilight looked between all her friends again. Rainbow was still growling, but she didn’t struggle. Pinkie was staring sadly back at Kennedy before they were out of sight from each other, their drinks leaving as well.

Zecora looked back to Twilight just as Twilight looked to her. The zebra narrowed her gaze and said, “Keep waiting.”