Marks of Harmony: Ancillary

Marks of Harmony

Ancillary

Part 1

Drafting Pages

His quill snapped in his hoof and where in the previous weeks he would have sworn and lost much of his inspiration for whatever he had been so penning, he now merely let out a mild sigh. Still, the breaking quill did not fail to break his flow of thoughts and thus render a continuation at the moment rather pointless. He rummaged around in the drawer of the desk afforded him, extracted a new of his writing utensils, and set it across the parchment his old quill had been defacing with ink. Deciding silent observation and thought would be best to reignite the direction of what most ponies would consider a rant, he gripped the crank on his chair with a hoof and spun the wheels around until he could roll the wheeled contraption to the criminally small window.

He imagined that should anypony in the street have looked up, they would have only been able to pick out his green eyes, so small was the pane of glass. But it served its purpose well enough, and Inky Jay’s thoughts slowly began to drift to the all the small changes in Ponyville he now found himself noticing. Logic dictated that time would breed familiarity with a place, but of all locations in the world, Inky had never thought he would grow so accustomed to a small cross-roads town that he knew at glance when a shop had finally finished reconstructing its chimney. And while these minute observations were mere preludes to the grander thoughts they would inevitably spawn, he often became infuriated with himself for seeming to require such a stimulus. But such was his life now, and he realized with mixed emotions that before all of the events almost a year prior, he had still needed a stimulus for engaging thought. It just so happened said stimulus had been a creature of advanced mentality, and now drawing inspiration from the mundane was all the more pronounced and difference.

Without his normal internal consent, Inky’s eyes wandered to the rather bland afternoon horizon of the Everfree. Aurora was still out in the wilderness, he was sure. Just because Equestria had no sign nor trace of her meant nothing in his mind. Of course, whether her continued life was a good thing was still debatable to him now; but so were many instances in life. And with that and a glance back over the words he had managed to scratch into the parchment, he felt his thoughts beginning to reform and collect into coherent commentary. He twisted both cranks of his wheelchair again, moving himself back to the desk.

And I thus conclude that the two opposing views of the past are completely irrelevant. Dwelling on the past can be destructive, validating actions under laws that bear no significance in the modern era and stagnating society as whole. Equally, the past is a wellspring of knowledge of both the world and oneself from which we draw our experience with which we grow. However, I see neither of these views as inherently valuable, for they ignore the present. If one cannot deduce the unstated thoughts of the present world, all of the philosophy, validation, and experience of the past gains one nothing. It is in the now we must be conscious and observant.

______________________________________________________________________________

Twilight Sparkle was stressed. And while anypony who knew her well enough would have probably laughed so simple a statement away as normal, Twilight was more stressed than usual. She had known (outside of Princess Celestia warning her quite profusely) that Ponyville’s recovery after the Aurora Incident would bring with it a whole slew of new ponies coming to help rebuild the town. And she also knew that new ponies meant new mouths to feed, new families to house, and new jobs to be made available once reconstruction was finished. That the town was still expanding even a year later (she had been keeping careful track of the official population count, and Ponyville was nearing a size more comparable to a small city than town) was not so much a shock to her as the number of ponies who wanted to read. Of course she had been excited at first when little foals and their mothers came into the library on a regular basis, but even the gruff work ponies seemed interested in renting out a book or two. In the end, it meant she and Spike were always running around the library like madponies as they tried to please the newcomers.

But today was Friday, and by her experience, Friday’s were the worst. This Friday was proving no different, and Twilight was sure that if her mane became any more frazzled, Rarity would faint just seeing it. “And here’s the copy of Great Towers and Domes of Griffondom. Silly thing was still in returns. Enjoy!” she said with a cheery wave. The colt taking the book nodded in thanks and hurriedly scurried out, only to be replaced by a mare from the ever growing line. Except Twilight only knew her to be a mare from a previous time. If Rainbow Dash had been something of a showy strut before, now she completely flaunted herself in public. A great deal of the Changelings took on pony forms when they came into town from the Colony in the Everfree unless pony friends insisted they not, but Rainbow Dash flashed her shiny black chitin and corrugated wings like they were trophies. She even smiled to purposefully make more prominent her fangs. But rather than irritate her, Twilight could only ever giggle and smile at the sheer absurdity of it all.

“C’mon, Twi,” Rainbow said, her wings buzzing excitedly for a moment. “You said you pre-ordered it, and you would be getting it today!”

“It’s still in the morning mail stack in my room,” Twilight sighed, amused. “I’ll get it as soon as I get finished with everypony.”

“Awww…” Rainbow moaned. “But it’s gonna take you forever to deal with all these schmucks.”

“You could go get it yourself if you wanted, but Inky is upstairs, so that’s your choice,” Twilight said, already motioning for the next pony in line. “Or you can wait.”

“Fine, I’ll be back ‘after hours’,” Rainbow said with an attempt at suggestiveness but ruining the effect entirely with a snort directly after. Twilight only rolled her eyes, glad that even if Rainbow cut her visit short, she had still brought some much needed levity to Twilight’s day. The pony next in line might have been just as obtrusive as Rainbow had he not carried with him a stiff and formal air. Resplendent in the gold plated steel of the Royal Guard, the deep grey unicorn was clearly an envoy directly from Princess Celestia.

“Yes?” Twilight asked curiously, as the guard was not looking at her. “Does the princess have something for me?”

“Oh, for the Sun’s sake,” came an exasperated voice from behind the stoic guard. “My apologies, Miss Sparkle.” And from around his escort’s girth came the aged and spindly form of the sole pegasus professor from Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns: Crafted Page. “You, shoo, you’ve done your duty and are only being a nuisance to the majority of the ponies in this library,” he rebuked, tapping at the chest plate of the guard. As per the infinite patience Twilight was not quite sure how the Royal Guard obtained, he bowed respectfully to both of them and exited with a sharp salute. “And the rest of you, please raise hooves for those hear for research materials?” Crafted went on, now addressing the crowded library like it was no different than his classroom. Twilight struggled to hold back a smirk.

With the library being so filled mostly by foals and their mothers checking out books requested by Cheerilee and her growing staff of new teachers as weekend reading, most hooves raised into the air tentatively. “Oh bother,” Crafted grumbled, but returned to his old, authoritative self with his next words. “Please leave. I’ll have a word with the local school about the whole matter, but for now, little ones, rejoice for a homework free weekend.” The explosion of joyous squeals and shouts was more than enough to send Twilight wincing, and judging by the fascinated looks of the foals, Crafted Page had just become a hero. “Well, go along now. Play in the mud or whatever it is foals do these days.” The library became a bustle of activity and excited foals’ voices as they either tugged their parents away or were led away by those who had recognized Crafted Page. And by the time the last filly had left, begging her father for some treat at SugarCube Corner, only a few ponies were left; ponies who appeared just as relieved as Twilight at the still air libraries were supposed to have.

“Well, now that I’ve added to my list of to-dos, how are you, Little Light?” Crafted asked her, using the same name he had given her upon the first day in his class. “Running a library suits you I think.”

“I love it really, even on Fridays,” Twilight admitted. “And the town’s doing much better too. Applejack told me business is starting to pick back up again now that most of the construction is finished. She’s a friend of mine from the Apple Clan,” Twilight chose to explain.

“Good ponies them,” Crafted replied. “At least that’s the general consensus from Economics up in Canterlot. Buggers to most of their opinions. You don’t happen to have a chair for an old pegasus to sit in do you?”

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Professor!” Twilight nearly choked on the words as she scrambled to light her horn and levitate over one of the reading chairs. “Do want something to eat or drink? I can always hop upstairs to make something.”

“Eh, tea is fine since that hatchling assistant of yours always seems to have it on hoof,” Crafted grunted. “But don’t rush yourself. You wrote a letter to School asking for me specifically. What is it that you need me for that you can’t find in a book?”

As was always with Crafted’s questions, Twilight found herself in something of an awkward position for fear of sounding rude, insincere, blatantly incompetent, or a combination of the three. “Um…” Twilight began, settling upon a course of action rather than words. “Do you think you could climb to the top level with me professor? I can help you if it’s a bit difficult.”

“Hmmmm,” Crafted Page murmured, a careful, thin hoof coming up to scratch at his chin and his eyes regaining the mischief and vitality of yonder year. “Something not for just anypony’s ears then. I think I’ll climb the stairs on my own then if that’s the case, Little Light.”

“You can take care of the ponies down here, right Spike?” Twilight asked him.

“He’s not gonna like him,” Spike chose to answer instead,  not even turning his head from the stack of books he was carefully ordering into section by section stacks.

“Thank you, Spike,” Twilight muttered, wishing he would turn to look at her so she could give him an appropriate glare. But he was far too absorbed in the task before him, so Twilight strode off after her old professor, who despite his age and desire to sit over standing, was ascending the library’s many staircases like any normal pony. Spike was right of course. Inky would dislike Crafted’s perpetually sensible practicality, and Professor Page would likewise find offense in Inky’s leanings toward anarchy. Twilight had no doubt they were a volatile mix, but she had come to expect as much from the more outgoing pegasi. Besides, Inky was making little headway with the harness left for him by Aurora. Even Twilight struggled whenever he would show her whatever diagrams he had managed to solidify as accurate after months and months of work. Everypony was certain pegasus magic existed, and Aurora had proved it could manipulated by Device technology like any other arcane form.

The trouble was, Twilight and Inky were fairly certain it’s structure was neither as rigid as unicorn’s magic nor as categorical. The end result was a topic far too advanced for any theorist to bother their time with. At least, most any theorist. Crafted Page had been studying his kind’s magic for decades, and while he had a propensity for hoarding his work, the professor could undoubtedly help in Inky’s plight. And the worst result was a few choice words, Twilight was willing to settle the arguments if it meant Inky no longer had to live day after day in constant reminder of his collapsed world.

She wouldn’t call his mental state miserable, but she could sense something dredged about his demeanor. He was not forcing himself to be anything other than what the Incident had changed in him, but Twilight most often thought he struggled to maintain his usual vigor and vitality.

And upon opening the door at the peak of the tree building, her thoughts of Inky’s weary persona were all but confirmed. With his desk facing the entrance to the room, Inky’s head rested ever so to the side against the wall asleep. A quill lay on the floor off the right where he had undoubtedly dropped it as he dozed away, and a singularly large book rested open before him with multiple underlines still drying. Twilight made her way into the room, Professor Page following close behind and scrutinizing Inky like a new race of creature waiting to be studied.

Twilight chose to ignore his initial reaction for the moment. Most everypony, new Ponyville citizen and old, gave off some level of apprehension upon first seeing Inky, asleep or no. To Equestria at large, he was a foreigner, old associate of Aurora Streak, and according to the more vocally suspicious, still in her employ and plotting to weaken Equestria from the inside. She supposed Professor Page was somewhere in the middle, willing to trust Celestia on the matter, but not implicitly trusting of Inky himself.

“Hey, Inky, could you wake up?” she asked him, poking gently at his shoulder. He did not, and showed no signs of even being disturbed.

Before Twilight could poke him again a little more forcefully, Professor Page inserted sternly, “So he’s the Desert Child all the nobles keep frussing up their manes over? I’m old Twilight, but not so senile as to believe everything I hear in Canterlot. But even so, I would be careful around him.”

“I dealt with Inky before Aurora turned on us,” Twilight reassured the elderly pegasus, “so I know where to watch out.” Turning her attention back to the sleeping Inky, she jabbed her hoof into his shoulder and said in a bit of a louder tone, “Inky, there’s somepony you should meet.” At this, his eyes peeled open as though he were waking from a dream, not having been forcibly awoken. He glanced to Twilight, lids blinking several times as if to clear his eyes and bring on a more stout alertness; but when this failed to bring about the desired result, he rubbed his hooves into his eyes with a mild groan.

“How long have I been asleep?” he asked, a note of regret in his grit-scratched voice.

“No clue,” Twilight replied. “School just let out though if that’s any help. But, could you pay attention to why I woke you for just a second?”

“Oh, pray tell?” Inky asked, looking up and noticing Crafted Page for the first time. “Ah,” he answered himself. “Judging by your age alone, I can be relatively certain you did not use whatever relation to Sparkle you have and endure the climb up those stairs merely to gawk at an invalid.”

Twilight felt the urge to wince and facehoof, but restrained herself. She had seen this coming, and while she would do her best to diffuse the situation, she would definitely be having a talk with Inky about first impressions and leaving her to repair them. But to her utter shock, Professor Page did not glare reproachfully at Inky and quote a famous pegasus tactician. Instead, an appreciative grin split his wrinkled face, and he said to Twilight, “I like him.” Altering his stance to sit closer to the two of them, he addressed Inky, “To still have your spirit left in you after injuries like those is refreshing to an old geezer like me.”

“Only enough to start building anew, old colt,” Inky replied.

“Keep at it then, and speaking of which, I think I now know why Little Light had me come to see you.”

“If you would, Sparkle,” Inky said to her in an undertone, motioning for her to move, and grasping the cranks on his chair to wheel out to face Crafted directly.

“I was hoping he could help us with the harness,” Twilight elaborated to Inky. “I don’t like having to see you like this all the time, especially when I know it’s part of a debt I owe you. I mean, I know you’ve hit a wall with the little bit of research you’ve done yourself and what you can remember from Aurora.”

“How can he help?” Inky asked with no small amount of skepticism, and not even bothering with trying to refute her claim. “Expertise in one area of arcane study does not directly translate to its counterpart in Device construction, especially not with a subset as enigmatic as pegasus magic and mixed Devices.”

“Professor Page has been studying pegasus magic longer than I’ve been alive,” Twilight replied pointedly. “You can’t discount that many years of research. And besides, he’ll be of more help to you than I would.”

“At least I can rely on you knowing the intricacies of Device correlation,” Inky muttered, his scratch becoming more pronounced.

“I am a magical theorist, Mr. Jay,” Crafted berated Inky in the tone only teachers seemed to possess. “And theory is the most difficult of the magical studies. A subset with a physical manifestation? Posh, I could learn its governing principles over breakfast.” Inky did not recoil in the way Twilight might have had Professor Page spoken to her in that way, but his intense intrigue of of the older pony was definitely obvious. But then, Inky had met very few mortal ponies with age enough to be thusly confident in their talent. “So, Mr. Jay,” he finished, “since my most attentive student feels she owes you a debt, and has kindly asked for my assistance to see it paid, I will believe I will help you walk and fly again.”

Twilight was positively beaming. Her professor had taken a liking to Inky, was offering his skills and knowledge without ever having been asked, and clearly believed they could be successful. Already she could imagine what the return of his limbs would do for Inky’s mindset, as he spent a great deal of time both pouring over Device schematics and pondering the deeper meanings of his injuries and how he thought of them. Perhaps he would devote more time to his talent in fiction, and maybe, just maybe, he would become more open to learning the ways of Harmony that had always led Twilight. The only obstacle to these foreseeable fortunate events was Inky himself: whether or not he would accept Professor Page’s help.

Inky did not answer at first, and his look was one of a pony lost in debating thoughts. At one moment, he took in a breath but never like he was about to speak; and the next, his eyes moved to their corners in contemplation. “Your name, professor?” he asked at last. “If we are to work together on this, I doubt either you or myself will be able to withstand my calling you ‘colt’ or ‘professor’ at all intervals.”

“Oh, referring to me as professor is just fine, colt,” Crafted answered with a cheeky wink. “But if you insist, my name is Crafted Page. Now, let’s see what you have so far while Little Light is unoccupied by her librarian duties.”

“Another time, Page,” Inky replied with a swiftness that could only have been prepared. “I am quite certain you will need to stay here in Ponyville for some time, as this project could take several months. Take some time to send for you essentials and locate a semi-permanent residence. And, as it happens, I… there are other things that demand my attention.”

And with those last words, Twilight felt her enthusiasm for new progress morph in her gut into concerned curiosity. Not that she thought Inky’s response was unwarranted. In fact, she thought she might have requested the same thing of her old professor, if for nothing more than to collect and organize all the notes and diagrams she did have. Except, Inky had ground for nights on end with the research and speculation. To have him reject an opportunity to leap into the papers with a fresh perspective in the mix made no logical sense. Of course, he could just be tired. You know, I’ll bet that’s it, she mused. He’s not exactly in the best shape mentally or physically, and I did just wake him up from a nap. And come to think of it, it looked like it was a much needed nap.

If Professor Page found anything odd about Inky’s proposal, he did not show it. He merely nodded his head in understanding, turning to Twilight with a rather simple question. “I dare say you know some good hotels here in Ponyville, Little Light. And one’s close to your library would be even better,” he said.

“My friend Rarity’s showed me some pretty nice places,” Twilight nodded. “How about I help you check in, Professor?”

“It would be much appreciated,” Crafted replied with a bob of affirmation. “With you being the princess’s personal student now, I doubt the little hoots will try to swindle me out my bits if you come along.” As if his statement was the decisive word on their course of action, Crafted Page proceeded out of Inky’s room in quite the dramatic stride for an elder pony.

“Get some rest, Inky,” Twilight said to him as she exited. “You sound like you could use it.”

“Eh, bear my apparent lack of fortitude no mind, Sparkle,” Inky waved her off. “As it happens, my mind and body are presently incongruent when asleep. My body rests as well as it ever has, but my mind… I have less control over its wanderings than when awake. With any luck, your old professor will give me enough to think about and do that I will be tired on both fronts again.”

______________________________________________________________________________

Celestia sat in her study, surrounded by carefully ordered stacks of paper, immaculately dusted shelves full with the accumulated knowledge of her little ponies, and multiple telescopes and star charts which were the consistent envy of the Astronomy Department. And she was brooding. It was an attitude for which she had frequently berated the young Twilight Sparkle and for which she had outright scolded Luna. It befit nopony save foals, and yet she could not bring herself to call her irritable, inactive self anything else. But then, perhaps it was not truly brooding, as the word implied triviality, and Celestia’s predicament was as far from trivial as a trained pegasus could fly on a single meal.

And even worse, she was likely due to hear even more of the same in only a few minutes time. At least Sanctia would be somewhat understanding. As if cued to her thoughts, a set of five golden ornaments separated themselves from their otherwise mundane brethren encircling the trimming of the study. They crawled up the wall of their own accord, tracing ancient patterns Celestia had long ago imbued in the stone; and as they did so, she could feel the magics within tug at her power. She allowed it, and in response, the lines traced by the ornaments lit with her golden power before morphing into the completed gateway between Canterlot and Sanctia’s Origin.

“Good afternoon, sister,” Sanctia said through the rift before stepping onto Celestia’s rugs. Her voice was like the pealing of bells through chilled winter air and her physical beauty was one of the many reasons Celestia and Luna had never allowed the many compliments of normal ponies to go to their heads. If all of their Order were to stand together in silence, most eyes would be drawn first to Sanctia. She was an inky black, almost freakishly so: her mane, tail, and eyes the only features marring the opaque hue when she did not speak. And even then, her golden eyes and silvery translucent mane and tail seemed only present for the purpose of complimenting her coat.

“Afternoon, Sanctia,” Celestia replied, and bit the inside of her cheek for failing to rid her tone of the disapproval of her glowering mood. “Sorry,” she breathed out. “The last of our pegasus scouts just returned from Red Dunes. No luck. She has disappeared completely it seems.”

“Fret not, Celestia,” Sanctia answered rather too brightly for the occasion. “She is one of ours even if she doesn’t know it yet, and I personally will not allow one of us to commit such war crimes without retribution. And honestly, how many of our number do you think would disagree with you, hmm?”

“Verdance possibly,” Celestia quipped with no small amount of frustration. “I think he still believes she is reasonable.”

“Don’t rag on his optimism too much, Celestia,” Sanctia cautioned. “It got us all through the rougher years.”

“I know, I know,” Celestia sighed again. “It’s just… I don’t believe I will ever forgive her after all she has done.”

“Ha! And you think you’re alone in that?” Sanctia peeled off in amusement. “Once she ignites the bindings again, I’ll be your first ally for throwing her in a cell while we search for a replacement.”

Celestia allowed a smile to break through her grim face. “You have no idea how relieving it is to hear that so straightforward from somepony in the Order. Verdance is only furious she escaped us, not over her atrocities, and Luna…”

“I can see why Luna would be tight-lipped over it all,” Sanctia seemed to muse to herself, then more directly addressing Celestia, said, “Surely you understand the mixed feelings that must be flowing through her?”

“I saw it in her face every time a scouting party from Red Dunes would return with a report,” Celestia replied softly. “And that’s why I didn’t press the issue.”

“Hm, well, all that seething anger you’re holding in can finally go somewhere,” Sanctia said with no small amount of mischief. “I think I found her.” Celestia’s eyes widened to their fullest, and she did not realize until Sanctia arched a reproachfully sardonic eyebrow that she had stood to her full height.

“Where?” Celestia spoke, unable to ask anything more detailed. Repressing her strong desire to see Aurora Streak brought under the power of the law, Celestia reclaimed her floor cushion in composed fashion.

“I can’t say for sure that she is there,” Sanctia began, rubbing her chin with her hoof, “but noplace else seems so logically obvious to be honest. She’s been busy and underhoofed about it too, I’ll give her that much. She’s managed to transform some nameless oasis village into a monster of a city.”

“Canterlot is a big city too, Sanctia,” Celestia said. “How large are we talking?”

“Oh, ha ha,” her sister chuckled at the concern in Celestia’s question, “it’s nothing as large as a Palace, that’s for sure. But, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say it’s larger than anything in Equestria.”

“How, by Epiphany, has she managed to do something like that without drawing our attention!?” Celestia very nearly bellowed in magically enhanced tones.

“Dragon and griffon trade, I’m guessing,” Sanctia shrugged, “but don’t take that as final. I haven’t checked with our brothers just yet.”

“And defenses, offense? What will we have to do to reach her? What is she prepared to withstand?” Celestia questioned, the righteous fury Sanctia had so mentioned roiling to the surface.

“I didn’t fly close enough to find out,” Sanctia answered defensively, her mane shifting. from transparent to opaque silver. “And that, Celestia, is our problem. The Origin is just one ship, and even if I were to bypass any defensive inventions, Aurora would be long gone by the time we were inside the city. And if the Origin’s sensors were behaving any more erratically, I’d have been flying right over the top of the Depression. We move to catch her and we fail, and if we do nothing, we still fail. Rather fantastically I might add.”

“So, it sounds as though you have a plan of sorts outround all of this,” Celestia said, repressing her personal emotions in favor of practicality.

“Not really,” Sanctia sighed, running a hoof through her once again clear mane. “The best way we can sort this is out is the way we used to: as a group.”

“Then go a-calling,” Celestia said. “We can all meet here since there are places in the castle more private than the others’ homes.”

“And what about Twilight?” Sanctia posed the question innocently enough, but Celestia felt a deep frown forming on her face. “I mean, I hate repeating Verdance as much as you do, but it’s getting to the point… I mean, I know I waited to tell Cadance but…”

“No, both you and he are right, as much as I would have it otherwise,” Celestia said, closing her eyes. “I doubt she will have forgotten the Origin, despite how patient she has been in waiting for my explanation. I will summon her here once we have all arrived. We can all tell her then.”

“Don’t invest too much in this filly, Celestia,” Sanctia replied, brushing Celestia’s cheek with a soft, understanding hoof. “We are not mothers, no matter how much we wish to be.” And with that, she was gone back through the closing gate, leaving Celestia to freely let her silent tears darken her parchment.

______________________________________________________________________________

It was just an hour or so before dinner would be ready when Twilight finally left the inn Professor Crafted had decided was in his words ‘decently sized and somewhat livable’. And true to his independent, pegasus blood, the professor had gone back on his own desire to stay somewhere close to the library. Twilight was quite literally now on the complete other side of Ponyville, passing through the market square just beginning to close up its stalls and the salesponies not so obnoxiously shouting for passing customers to come see what was negotiable. Personally, Twilight thought Professor Page had chosen a hotel so out of his way merely to see things like an open market. For despite many of its small town trappings slowly fading in favor of such institutions more common in places like Fillydelphia and Manehattan, still present were the ‘oddities’ many Canterlot ponies had never seen.

And Twilight had to admit to herself, she had held the same fascination for several weeks after permanently moving into the then small town. But now, the market was just another daily occurance; a mark of good daily business. Another such mark was Applejack or Big Mac, as they rotated farm and soliciting duties. Twilight took a slight diversion through the closing street only to find Applejack already hooked into her cart and wheeling the contraption away. That was most certainly odd, as the Apple family was notorious for staying until everypony else had gone home. “Evenin’ sugarcube,” Applejack said, halting to greet Twilight. “Watcha doin’ out so late? Aren’ ya us’ly holed up a’ night tryin’ ta help ‘im with tha’ magic stuff.”

“You know you can actually call Inky by name,” Twilight sighed. Perhaps it was a small amount of the revenge her friends felt they were owed, but Rarity had started the rather annoying rule of refusing to speak Inky’s name. Twilight felt he had suffered and aided them enough to pay for his crimes, but he had also saved her life, and she could admit her perception was likely a touch tainted by that fact.

“Jus’ ‘cause I can don’ mean I gotta,” Applejack replied resolutely. “But c’mon Twi, what’re ya doin’out here?”

“We can walk and talk. I don’t want to hold you up,” Twilight said, standing aside and motioning for AJ to go along. She did so, and as the rattling cart dragged along behind them, Twilight continued, “It’s funny you mentioned the work with the harness. Inky hit a wall, even if he won’t admit it, and I just don’t have the time to really devote to studying the system. So… I lettered an old professor from school who’s famous for working with pegasi magic. I just got back from getting him settled into his hotel.”

“ ‘e a city type?” Applejack asked.

“Not what you’re thinking of,” Twilight chuckled. “He’s a lot like Granny Smith, Princess Celestia, and Lyra all rolled into one pony.”

“I…” Applejack began, but her face twisted and one of her brows rose above the other in quite the amusing fashion. “Tha’ don’ make a hay load of sense Twi,” she decided.

“He’s a little crazy,” Twilight settled for saying. “And he loves fillies and colts. Applebloom and her friends would probably be the ones being driven crazy rather than the other way around.”

“Ho, I doubt that,” Applejack laughed. “Ain’t nopony who’s able to not ‘ave tha nuts driven into ‘em after watchin’ them three.”

“Maybe, but he managed to deal with me, as a filly,” Twilight said. “But, um, AJ, not to really get into the family business, but why are you packing up so early? Is there something wrong? Do I need to let the girls know? Anything you need help with up on the farm?”

“No, no, sugarcube,” Applejack shook her head, her voice a genuine comforting tone as she tried to dispel Twilight’s worry. “Didn’ Rainbow Dash tell ya? Idda thought she would ‘ave. Said she was goin’ over to yer place anyhow.”

“Oh, was she supposed to tell me something?” Twilight asked, curiosity piqued and replacing any worries she had possessed for AJ. “She came by, but all she wanted was the next Daring Do I’d gotten in the mail. She also said she would come by later, but… shoot, I’ve been out all day with the professor. I bet I missed her.”

“Don’ worry none. I’m sure Spike got tha book for ‘er,” Applejack replied. “But I’m surprised she didn’ tell ya. Guess them books really are good readin’ afterall. She was practically actin’ like a filly, she was so excited when she told me.”

“Okay AJ, what is it? What’s going on? Is Chrysalis coming back to check on the colony or did they finally finish that gate?” Twilight pressed.

“Nah, ‘parently there’s a Changelin’ holiday comin’ up,” Applejack said. “It’s a good to-do for ‘em. A whole week long thang from what Rainbow said. Not sure what its celebratin’, since Rainbow was askin’ if I’d bring some of tha family cider. But when I told Granny, she’s wantin’ ta make it a business opportunity with tha Changelins. Get our hoof in an’ all.”

“Oooh!” Twilight exclaimed at Applejack’s sure smile. “It sounds so interesting. I bet there’s a ton we could learn about the culture. It would really break down the barriers between Ponyville and the colony if more ponies came. I’ll definitely go, and maybe I can even drag the professor with me. He would definitely be curious.”

“It’s a big party, Twi,” Applejack stated flatly. “You usually hole yerself up durin’ the Summer Sun Celebration, ‘cept for the official ceremonies. What ‘bout this ya thank’s gonna be difrent?”

“But there would be so much to see!” Twilight almost squealed like a filly. “I haven’t gone yet because I figured they would want to have finished building, and honestly, Rainbow comes into town a lot so… I’m going okay, AJ.”

“Suit yerself,” Applejack said. “Ya can always come over to tha cart if yer tuckered out. An’ ain’t this yer turn?” She stopped in her tracks, the growing night around them seeming even more quiet for lack of the cart’s ever present rattling. Twilight nodded, took her hooves onto the road and turned back to wave to Applejack.

“See you sometime, AJ!” she called out.

“See ya lata,” the Apple replied before her cart wheels began rolling again and preventing further farewells. Twilight almost began skipping as she continued back the library. A Changeling festival! She couldn’t really think of anything more exciting for everypony. The town really needed a collective boost of enjoyment, and this would be sure to lift everypony’s spirits. Not to mention, it would help the ponies and Changelings mingle without so many prejudices getting in the way. Hard cider had a way of doing that…