The Alicorn Academy

Chapters

Selecting Students
Out the Window
Pink Pony Interlude
Remembering Twilight's Lesson
Return to Canterlot
Nine Horns
Luna's Lesson
Sushi Interlude
Twilight In the Library
Hoodwink Thinks of Home
Minerva's Musings
Brimstone Broods
Background Pony Interlude
Cadance Has Something to Say
Sombra Silvermane
Foalish Endeavors
Celestia's Class
Fire and Snow
Aftermath
Homecoming
Back in Session
Twilight
Brimstone Becomes Tangled Up In Ivy
Luna Delivers a Nightmare
Breathing Room
Making New Life
The Visitor
A Mother's Reflection
Gala
Brimstone's Nemesis
Celestia's Vision Bears Fruit
Twilight Splatter Interlude
Three
Preamble With a Princess
Social Contagion
Unicorn Unity!
Under Seige

Selecting Students

Four Alicorns gathered in a room. The room was small and cozy. A small table was in the center of the room, with cushions around the table. The cushions were occupied. Tea was set out upon the table, with things to eat and drink, cakes and tiny sandwiches.

On each wall of the room there hung a tapestry, each tapestry behind the princess it represented.

Behind Celestia, a symbol of the sun with two guard helmets set on either side. It was simple but the message was clear. Celestia was not one for complicated symbolism. She liked to make her point clear and simple. The white fabric was every bit as spotless as the alicorn it represented.

Behind Luna was a black tapestry with a crescent moon. Silver stars adorned the blackness. But if you stared at the image for a while, it would shimmer, warp, and shift, with the image becoming that of a massive lunar pegasi, standing majestically, with something awful and indescribable crushed under its hoof. And then the image would shift back, teasing the viewer.

Behind Twilight was a lavender tapestry with the image of her cutie mark, with a stack of books and a pile of scrolls. A set of scales stood near the reading materials, with the sun and the moon inscribed on the scales, passing one another in an eclipse.

Cadance’s was pink and seemed to radiate soothing warmth. In the center was a crystal heart. Below that were the images of several ponies. Two slightly larger ponies posed as adults, standing with two small foals between them. To stare upon the tapestry for too long caused an aching need for love and family.

Celestia chewed a bite of cake thoughtfully, looking at the ponies gathered around the table. Cadance was delicate and gentle, as always, taking tiny bites and little sips, her manners demure and perfect. Luna gobbled with gusto and enthusiasm in between sentences animated with hoof-gestures. And Twilight. Of all of Twilight’s lessons, table manners had always been a weak point. She scarfed and gobbled down a small pile of cakes. There was frosting on her nose.

The group was relaxed. Informal. It had taken a long time to reach this point, with Luna and Cadance taking the longest time to warm to one another. Genuine affection was present in the room, shared by all of them.

Celestia cleared her throat and took a sip of tea, lifting her head high.

“I believe it is time for a change.” Celestia stated.

The others paused, each turning to look at Celestia.

“As all of you know, I have taken on another personal student. A protege. Somepony that I believe is gifted and could do great things for Equestria.” Celestia smiled, a hint of pride animating her features. “And after a great deal of consideration, I would like to request that all of you do the same. I would like for our students to work together. I would like for all of us to teach, pass along important lessons that we have learned. To shape and mold Equestria’s future. Equestria has enemies. While we prosper, there are those that look upon on and covet what we have.”

There was an exchange of nods around the table, and the clink of silverware and teacups.

“I strongly suspect that I know who Luna will officially select as her student, but I am burning with curiousity to know who you two may have in in mind.” Celestia said, gesturing at Cadance and Twilight.

Cadance swallowed and cleared her throat softly, the sound like a small bird taking flight.

“There is already a filly that I have been helping. She has an odd gift. There’s been a bit of trouble.” Cadance’s eyes opened wide, her ears perked forward.

Twilight coughed lightly.

“Her name is Minerva Silvermane, from the Silvermane family. I should probably point out that all of the Silvermanes have odd talents. They are an odd family of crystal unicorns, and loyal supporters to the crown.”

Celestia smiled as Cadance seemed to stall.

“She, um, uh...” Cadance’s composure broke, a rare occurrence.

Twilight coughed and stared at something interesting on her plate.

“She opens doors,” Cadance said finally, “she has a keyhole as a cutie mark.”

“Doors?” Luna inquired.

Cadance hemmed and hawed.

“Did something happen?” Celestia said, getting to the point.

“Well, uh, you see, Minerva opens doors. She can enter into one door frame in one location and emerge through another doorway in a different location, just as easy as stepping through the door.” Cadance raised her head, looking directly at Celestia.

“So long distance winking? Teleporting?” Luna asked.

“No.” Cadance replied.

“Then please explain.” Celestia implored.

“She opens doors. And can go to other places. She stepped through one door and accidentally ended up beyond the mirror.” Cadance’s voice trailed off into a low whisper as she spoke.

Twilight let out a very unladylike grunt.

“Twilight and I had to go fetch her.”

“What? How? The mirror cycle takes a long time… How were you able to go and fetch her?” Celestia asked.

“Twilight tampered with the mirror. It took some magical tinkering but she made it work. It responds to Twilight’s commands now. We went through the mirror and found Minerva. Her magic doesn’t work in that world. She couldn’t open a door and return. She was terrified and confused.” Cadance looked at Twilight, who was ducking her head low and avoiding Celestia’s gaze.

“Twilight Sparkle, is this true?” Celestia inquired.

Twilight nodded.

“Twilight, please, look at me. Do not be ashamed. I’m not angry.”

Twilight looked up at Celestia as she squirmed on her cushion.

“You found a way to alter the mirror.” Celestia stated. It was not a question.

Twilight nodded.

“And you crossed over with Cadance to retrieve a lost foal?”

Another nod.

“And all of this happened, and neither one of you thought to contact Luna and I?”

“We didn’t want to trouble you, we were confident that we could resolve the issue ourselves. We did. We came, we found, we returned. It was my responsibility and Twilight helped me out of a terrible mess and it was intended to be a secret between sisters.” Cadance explained in a huff, her usual carefully measured words gone from her.

Celestia and Luna smiled.

“I am impressed.” Celestia said finally.

Twilight took a deep breath and stuffed a whole cucumber sandwich into her mouth. She chewed with relief, taking solace in food.

“I have no idea what Minerva is capable of,” Cadance stated, “but she is a deep well of raw magic. I believe that her talent should be explored, so it can be understood. I’ve had Twilight researching old records and notes, and nothing like this has ever been put to paper before. It is a talent that seems unique among talents. I’ve been schooling Minerva on magical theory already, when I have spare time. I’m not very good at magical theory...” Cadance finished with a mutter.

“We all have our strengths and weaknesses.” Luna said.

“What does a former pegasus know about magical theory?” Cadance asked. “I’ve been worried that I’m doing more harm than good. Strong magic in the Crystal Empire is rare. Mostly, the unicorns there shape and mold both rock and crystals. There is very little variation. There is nopony else in the Empire capable of even beginning to understand Minerva’s potential.”

“Which is why I’ve made my proposal,” Celestia said, “so exceptional students can be nurtured. We are in a unique time for Equestria, with four of us.”

“I’m not even sure I understand Minerva’s talent. It is beyond my scope and scale.” Twilight offered.

Celestia paused, thoughtful. That was a rare admission from Twilight.

Cadance pursed her lips and looked at Luna.

“How is Brimstone?” Cadance asked.

“Angry.” Luna said without thinking of a better reply.

“Angry?” Cadance asked.

“Well yes. All his talent allows him to do is sit and make stink all day, occasionally gassing other ponies. But he’s showing promise.” Luna beamed.

“How so?” Cadance asked.

Luna leaned forward, a smile spreading over her face, her eyes widening. “Not long ago, under intense concentration, he released a cloud of sneezing gas. Nightfisher and Hailstone sneezed for hours. It is a major breakthrough. He can do more than just make strangling gas. We’ve been trying to encourage him to see if he can make sleeping gas. And Nightfisher believes that he could magically create the gas we need that makes the airships fly.”

“That’s amazing!” Twilight exclaimed.

“I’m so proud of my foal.” Luna stated.

Luna paused.

“My ward.” She corrected, looking sad for a moment.

“The magistrates can go get stuffed.” Cadance said, an unusual edge in her voice.

“Now now,” Celestia soothed, “the magistrates make sure the ponies that are our citizens have a say. We have a constitution now. And they feel that an adopted foal does not make for a possible heir. We must respect their decision.”

Luna sighed.

“But privately amongst ourselves, we all know that Brimstone is Luna’s foal. She has been exceptionally patient with him, did what was believed to be impossible, and saved him from a terrible fate. Luna isn’t going anywhere. Who falls next in line doesn’t matter.” Celestia reached over and nudged her sister.

“And the magistrates do not want another Blueblood situation.” Luna added.

There was a shared cringe, wings fluttering, ears flattening, sour looks all exchanged, all at once.

“Brimstone is nothing like Blueblood. Brimstone is smart. Witty. Considerate.” Luna scowled. “Blueblood is none of those things.”

“Moving on,” Celestia interjected, “Brimstone isn’t just smart. We’ve had his IQ tested. My nephew is off the scales, just like Twilight.” Celestia beamed at Cadance, and then Twilight.

“He lacks magic though,” Luna said dejectedly, “all he can do is make clouds. No levitation, no fine manipulation, nothing. He shows no signs of ever doing any of those things.”

“There is more to a unicorn than just magic…” Twilight mumbled around a mouthful of scone.

“That’s very nice of you to say Twilight Sparkle.” Luna said.

Twilight swallowed, annoyed. “ I mean it,” Twilight stated, “if I get in a pickle, I want Rarity with me. While she has some magic talent, her creativity is far more valuable and useful than any spells that she might cast. Rarity can think her way out of trouble. And has. Many times. She can think of what to do when I am falling apart from the pressure. I can’t even begin to count how many times Rarity has pulled my backside out of the fire. I trust in her friendship first, and her thinking second. Her magic is barely even considered.”

“Thank you Twilight Sparkle,” Luna said, her voice rasping slightly, “for giving me some insight.”

Twilight stuffed an entire slice of jam and bread into her muzzle. She smacked her lips and began to chew.

“Twilight?”

“Yes Celestia?”

“Are you alright?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Are you eating for two?” Celestia accused bluntly.

“NO!” Said Twilight defensively.

Celestia smirked gently.

“High level magic requires a high level of calories to fuel. I’ve been experimenting. I have to keep eating or else I become terribly fatigued and I begin to lose cognitive functions. I become a little neurotic.” Twilight smacked her lips and licked the jam from her muzzle.

“If you were eating for two, it would make me very happy…” Celestia teased.

Twilight glared at her former teacher and stuffed a pimento cheese sandwich into her mouth.

“I don’t have time for romance.” Twilight grumbled around her mouthful of food.

“Oh, I MAKE time for romance,” Cadance said, “Shining and I both get grumpy if we don’t get our personal time.”

“Ugh,” Twilight grunted, “well I don’t have much time to spare. And now I’ll be taking on a student. A group of students. It is going to cut into my personal studies.” Twilight paused, a shrewd look on her face. Her eyes narrowed and she did her best to look clever.

“Which reminds me,” Celestia commented, ignoring Twilight’s theatrics, “any ideas for a student Twilight?”

Twilight wiped her muzzle with a napkin, her face breaking into a grin. She had just thought of a way of having her cake and eating it too. She looked down at the tea cakes on the tray in front of her.

“I do infact, have somepony in mind.” Twilight said, snatching a tempting tea cake with her magic and studying it. “How many calories do you think this is?” She asked, becoming distracted.

“Twilight!” said three alicorns.

Twilight stuffed the tea cake into her muzzle, chewed a few times, and swallowed. She was aware of three pairs of eyes staring at her. She took a private moment of smug satisfaction in making them wait.

“Climbing Ivy.” Twilight announced. “I’ll take her on as a student.”

“Twilight,” Celestia interjected, “as much as I love little Ivy, she is not a unicorn.”

“A unicorn is more than their magic, and magic is more than a unicorn.” Twilight said, sitting up straight and preparing herself. “Ivy has magic. She grows plants. It isn’t harmonious magic like we have, but it is magic. I’ve been studying her for quite some time. Like Brimstone, she can’t levitate things, or manipulate things, or any number of other spells a unicorn can learn, but she can summon nullfire and grow plants. She is a magical creature of unique dragon heritage. Her gifts should be studied and encouraged. If I take her on as a student, I can continue my study of dragons and find time to be a teacher.”

Celestia said nothing, but looked at Luna.

“Ivy is more than she appears.” Twilight stated. “In observing her, I’ve learned a great deal about how forest dragons might affect their ecosystem. When she climbs trees, her claws pierce the bark, causing sap to run to the surface. Bugs eat the sap. The trees grow thicker bark, becoming hardier. Some bugs help to spread pollen. She encourages natural plant growth. But she can also grow plants by focusing her will upon them.”

“Besides. Having a school for gifted unicorns and not allowing other creatures entrance is speciest, which I feel is even worse than tribalistic views. We have enough enough troubles right now with tribalism, due to The Collective.” Twilight spat out the last word like a curse.

“Celestia,” Cadance said softly, “it would go a long way in showing solidarity. A public example. Peace between the tribes and peace between the species.”

Celestia paused, thoughtful.

“We must lead by example.” Luna commented thoughtfully.

“Ivy is not a unicorn. Magical theory is pony-centric. The field of magic study is focused around how unicorns summon magic and channel it. I’m not sure how Ivy would fit in to a school specialising in unicorn magic.” Celestia said. “I don’t know what we could teach her.”

“I had serious doubts about what could be learned from a study of friendship,” Twilight commented, “I thought that friendship being magical was sentimental tripe. Magic was something that could be studied and measured. Friendship didn’t seem very scientific.”

“Ivy has chaos magic.” Luna said flatly. “Small magic that can influence the world around her and change things from one state to another. We know very little about this kind of magic, and what little we know is theory or learned from observing Discord. Our perceptions may be tainted because of our observations of Discord. If friendship can influence and effect harmony magic, what might it do for chaos magic? And, more importantly, we don’t want Ivy feeling isolated or unwelcome, shut out. Discord started out with minor alteration magic. What we choose today could have a profound effect on everypony’s future.”

Celestia shuddered visibly.

“I don’t understand something.” Cadance said, butting in.

“What?” Luna asked.

“Unicorns can grow plants.” Cadance said.

“Yes they can.” Luna replied. “But the food, even if edible, is horrendous. Tastes foul, looks bad, and it is not life sustaining. If you try to survive on it, you will sicken and die. Which is why we need the earth ponies and their passive magic they have, and their connection to the earth.”

“Also,” Twilight added, “one very important thing to note. It takes more calories to make the magic to try and grow the food than the food is capable of returning, resulting in net loss, meaning that unicorns trying to magically grow food will starve to death.”

“So Ivy is different somehow?” Cadance inquired.

“The food Ivy grows is delicious. I’ve eaten it.” Twilight replied. “I’ll admit, I was nervous the first time after my own failed experiments. I’ve managed to grow food that actually tastes halfway decent, but was nutritionally worthless.”

“I still have doubts.” Celestia said.

“Ivy has a cutie mark.” Twilight offered. “And cutie marks are harmonious in nature.”

“Really?” Celestia said. “Ivy has a cutie mark? And nopony told me?”

“She does. I’ve seen it. I was there when it happened.” Twilight said.

Celestia took a long sip of tea and reflected. A cutie mark on a creature of chaos. It struck her as being particularly chaotic. It worried her slightly. It challenged everything she thought she knew about the world.

“It is a little sprouting bean,” said Twilight, interrupting Celestia’s thoughts, “a little green bean with a sprout creeping out of it and a few leaves.”

Luna extended a hoof over the table. “So Fluttershy controls the fauna and Ivy controls the flora? How peculiar. A complimentary talent even though they are not blood related, just as we sometimes see in pony families and foals birthed from their parents. Fascinating.”

“I have a hypothesis that magic ignores actual bloodlines and focuses on family ties. But I have no way to prove it. It is merely a hunch. Friendship has magic though. Unique magic. Family is bound to have its own unique magic. At some point, I need to study adopted orphans and catalogue what sort of magic talents they develop.”

Three alicorns stared at Twilight suddenly.

“It was part of my studies on Ivy…” she said, trailing off, “studying her dragon heritage is only a small part of what I’ve focused on. And it’s made me completely change the way I view Spike.”

Cadance and Luna turned their gaze away from Twilight and focused on Celestia.

Celestia felt their eyes, and could sense unspoken words. She began to choose her words carefully.

“Ivy is very dear to me. I would never want to exclude her from anything, or have her excluded from our society. I see wisdom in the opinions presented and believe that it is time for a change. I see great value in unicorns learning to cooperate with other magical creatures and finding common ground. Twilight has been very convincing, and I believe she is right.” Celestia’s eyes moved, meeting each alicorn in turn.

“So are all of you in agreement on this?” Celestia finished.

There was an exchange of nods.

“Well then, this is just the excuse I need to ditch my royal duties and go visit with Ivy. I can’t wait to tell her the news.”

Twilight heaved a sigh of relief.

“We should go together.” Luna commented after a moment of thought.

“No need, I can handle this.” Celestia said.

“Why should you get the day off?” Luna snapped. “I like spending time with Ivy too.”

“You visit Discord every week. And Ivy.”

“Yes, I have friends. I leave the castle. And Fluttershy. I visit Fluttershy. You forgot her in your list.”

Celestia scowled.

“Somepony should stay here.” Celestia said.

“I will stuff this tea cake in your ear sister…” Luna challenged.

Out the Window

Ivy pondered the bowl in her talons. She had just got done licking it clean. It was a crude thing, lumpy, slightly misshapen, thicker on one side than the other, slightly lopsided. And it was very clean. Ivy had licked food from every inch of it. Clean enough to go back into the cupboard… Something her father sometimes did when mother wasn’t there to watch and scold.

Her father, Discord, had made the bowl. His talent as a potter left a lot to be desired for most ponies, but Ivy was a big fan of his work. Something that he did to the clay was delicious. Ivy considered the bowl, looking at it. The glazing was getting much better. There were faint claw marks from when the bowl was spun on the potter’s wheel. Her father made all manner of things out of clay. Bowls, plates, cups, pitchers, everything. It was a practical skill to have, Ivy reflected, and her father was getting much better. He had been practicing his technique using his tail and that produced much smoother work.

Yes, Ivy thought to herself, making tableware was practical. She began to drool slightly looking at the clay bowl. She looked around the small dining room, her eyes darting to and fro.

She heard a giggle from the kitchen. One of those sorts of giggles. She sighed. Fluttershy and Discord were in the kitchen, and her mother was giggling. Ivy felt a faint blush on her cheeks.

She lifted the bowl closer to her muzzle and sniffed. It was licked clean, but still smelled faintly of apple butter. And there was a rich mineral smell. She opened her maw.

“Climbing Ivy,” Discord said in his most authoritative voice, “what are you doing?”

She glanced over. Discord was in the doorway, and so was Fluttershy. Both of them were looking at her. Her mother’s wings were somewhat flared and she looked flustered.

Flustershy, Discord sometimes called her.

Ivy sat there, frozen, holding the bowl a few inches from her partially open mouth.

“Eating breakfast?” Ivy said as innocently as possible.

“You literally eat us out of house and home. I can’t make tableware fast enough!” Discord said with a hint of annoyance.

Ivy’s tail twitched and thumped the floor. She squirmed on her cushion.

Ivy stared at her bowl, and then over toward her father. The bowl inched closer to her snaggle toothed maw.

“Don’t you dare!” Discord warned. “We’re almost completely out again. The cupboards are nearly bare.” He was tapping one of griffon talon fingers on the floor, the claw clicking.

“I was just admiring your handiwork?” Ivy offered.

Ivy’s eyes darted toward the window. It was open.

“You do really great work dad. You keep getting better.” Ivy’s tone was sincere.

“Do tell.” Discord said.

Fluttershy giggled.

Ivy could no longer help her self. The entire bowl disappeared in one crunch. She swallowed.

“Ivy! You little troublemaker!” Discord shouted.

Ivy bonelessly slithered out the window and was gone.

Discord took off, running toward the front door on all fours, his body looping upward like an inchworm, his claws scrabbling to find purchase on the floor.

Ivy looked down from her tree and saw her father in hot pursuit. His many chases after her had conditioned him well, and he moved with surprising grace and speed.

He glared upward at her.

Ivy blew a raspberry in encouragement.

“Come down from that tree this instant!” Discord insisted.

“No.” Ivy replied.

Discord rose up, sitting on his haunches, lifting his forelegs and waving them in aggravation. “You little monster, come down here!”

Ivy blew another loving raspberry.

Discord began to scale the tree, his claws on his forelegs digging in, his sinuous body wrapping around the tree trunk.

Ivy waited patiently for Discord to come a little closer. She wanted him to feel that he had a chance after all. She remembered her mother’s long talk about encouraging her father to be physically active and exercise his body.

Ivy was snapped out of her reverie by the sound of her father slinking up the tree. Wow, she thought, he was getting faster. He was close, too close.

She took off at a run over the tree branch, spread her mismatched wings, and leapt.

She soared through the air. Whatever she was doing, it was the exact opposite of majestic. She wobbled and lurched, gliding in a curve, as one wing had more drag than the other.

She landed against the trunk of another tree quite some distance away with a satisfying “whump!” Her claws sank into the wood. She scurried up the tree.

She pondered briefly what would happen if her father ever caught her. He was glaring at her now, from the other tree, where she had just been sitting a few moments ago.

Ivy belched, causing a whisp of smoke to poof forth.

“Ivy!” Her mother scolded. “Say excuse me!”

Ivy looked down at her mama. “Excuse me!” She mimicked in Fluttershy’s voice.

Fluttershy giggled.

Discord was looping his coils down the tree. He hit the ground running, his body low to the grass, running toward Ivy’s current tree.

He stood below, somewhat breathless.

“Daddy?” Ivy asked in her sweetest tone.

“What Sprout?”

“What will you do if you ever catch me?”

“I haven’t figured that out yet. I’ve never been able to catch you. But when I do, I am going to do something awful!”

“Oh,” replied Ivy, unimpressed, “is that all?”

Ivy reached up and rubbed an antler. They itched.

Discord was scaling the tree. Ivy looked down.

“The important thing,” Discord huffed, “is that I keep trying!”

Ivy rapidly climbed up the tree to gain altitude, her father just below, almost in reach. A couple of times he had nearly grabbed her tail. Ivy was going to have to scold her father again at some point. Tail pulling was a no no.

Near the top of the tree, Ivy hurled herself into the open air.

The wind tore at her blue pelt, stinging her eyes. Ivy realised that she had undershot her mark. She shrieked as the ground was rushing up to greet her. She passed under the branch she intended to land on, it was too far above her.

This was going to hurt, Ivy thought, preparing her self for impact. She closed her eyes, bracing herself. She prepared to pull in her wings so they wouldn’t get hurt again.

And something gently collided with her in the air. She felt two forelegs wrap around her lithe body. “Mama”! Ivy cried in relief. She pried her eyes open. The ground was close. Close enough for her tail to drag along the earth.

She was set gently down on the ground. She stood there for a moment, trembling, remembering the last crash. She had broken a wing. She felt a dull ache in remembrance.

She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself.

“You alright Sprout?” Her father was sitting near her, the chase forgotten. He looked concerned. “Bad memory?”

Ivy slithered into Discord’s waiting forelegs. She felt her mother embrace her again.

Fluttershy ran her foreleg over her foal. Ivy had grown. Her body was long now, like Discord’s coils. Her neck had also extended. She was slender and graceful. Her soft blue coat was covered in random scaly patches along the front half. Her body was at least twice the length of a foal her age. It was supple and capable of folding back upon itself.

The only thing about Ivy that announced her pony ancestry was her face and head, if one ignored the horrifying double rowed maw full of teeth and the feathers where a mane should be.

Ivy took a deep shuddering breath.

Flying both thrilled her and terrified her. Not that she could actually fly. The best she could do was glide. It was unlikely that she would ever truly fly. Ivy hated being in the air, having nothing to sink her claws into. She liked having her claws attached to something. But gliding was the fastest way to get from tree to tree. And she relished the fear, something she couldn’t quite figure out. She liked being terrified.

“We’re going to have visitors today.” Fluttershy said softly in Ivy’s ear.

“Who?” Ivy asked.

“Oh, lots of ponies are coming over. I think somethings up. I think Pinkie might be planning you a party or something. I’m not sure.”

“Will Applejack make it?”

“I think so.” Fluttershy replied.

“She’s getting fat.” Ivy said bluntly.

“Oh Ivy, you mustn’t say that!”

“But she is.”

“She’s pregnant again Ivy.”

“You’re getting fat too.”

Fluttershy squeaked, her voice dying.

Discord grinned but said nothing. He poked Fluttershy in the ribs with his tail.

“How does Applejack keep getting pregnant?” Ivy asked.

“We’ll explain that later.” Discord muttered in reply.

“Mama,” asked Ivy, her brow furrowing, “are you pregnant?” She poked experimentally at her mother’s side.

Fluttershy sighed.

“How does this happen?” Ivy asked.

“We wanted to give you a special gift Ivy, for being a good filly.” Discord said, dodging the issue.

“Is something in there?” Ivy asked.

“Yes Ivy.” Discord said, his voice gentle and soft.

“Oh.” Ivy said. She pressed her head against her mother’s soft side. “I remember when Maplejack was born. It was icky. He was icky. I remember seeing him come out.” She fell quiet, her crest rising.

“I’ve been wanting to ask, what’s a Maplejack?”

“Applejack’s fourth foal.” Fluttershy replied.

“I know that,” Ivy huffed, “but what is a Maplejack?”

“Maple whiskey,” said Discord, “Applejack is named after apple whiskey. Stumpy named Maplejack in honour of his mother, and the fact that he likes his whiskey the same way that he likes his mares. With a lot of kick.” Discord chuckled.

“What’s whiskey?” Ivy asked.

“When you’re older.”

“Oh pony farts.” Ivy swore.

“Ivy!” Scolded Fluttershy.

Ivy flinched.

Ivy squirmed free from her parents and ventured to the edge of the yard where there was a large sand pile. The sand was scorched. And some of it had melted into blobs of glass. Bits of gravel had been added to the sand. She cocked her back end toward the sandpile and farted, releasing an enormous gout of purple-blue flame.

“Ah, that feels good.” Ivy exclaimed. “That had been building for a while.” She scratched her backside with her talon claws, producing showers of sparks. “I think I’m going to start molting scales again.”

Discord groaned.

“We’ll have to find you a supply of scrap metal and ask Rarity for some gems.” Fluttershy said.

“And daddy needs to make more of his pottery. I can’t stop eating it.”

Ivy loped through the grass back toward her parents, sitting down on her haunches.

“Mama?” Ivy asked.

“Yes Ivy?”

“What is it going to be?”

“I don’t know yet Ivy.”

“It is going to be like me, isn’t it?” Ivy inquired.

“Probably,” said Discord, “beautiful and pretty, Princess of the Pines. You’re going to have to share your kingdom.”

Ivy giggled for a moment, and then a serious look crept back on to her face.

“Cheerilee called me a draconequus at school the other day.” Ivy said. “She used me as an example of a highly crossbred creature.” Ivy slumped. “The way she did it made me feel bad. I don’t think she meant to hurt my feelings, but the way it made everypony else look at me kinda hurt.”

Fluttershy felt a pang deep in her chest. She inhaled sharply.

“Is that what I am?” Ivy asked, looking at Discord, interrupting Fluttershy’s outburst before it happened.

Discord said nothing at first, his mouth moving, but no words coming out.

“I don’t know what a draconequus is,” he finally replied, “I know that I am one. I don’t know how many generations of hybrids there has to be before we become well and truly mixed. None of my legs match. But yours come in pairs Ivy.”

Ivy didn’t understand everything that was said.

“Gala and Honeycrisp got in trouble and had to stay after school.”

“Why?” Discord and Fluttershy said together.

“They told everypony to stop looking at me and they told Cheerilee to shut up. Gala threatened to applebuck somepony for laughing.”

Discord wrapped a foreleg around Fluttershy and pulled her close. She buried her face into his chest. Her wings wiggled, her chest rising and falling.

“Cheerilee is a good pony though. I know she didn’t mean anything by it. She’s always looking out for me and making sure the other foals don’t tease me.”

Ivy sighed. It had been bothering her for a while. It felt good to get it out, like farting.

“If Gala applebucked somepony I think they’d explode.” Discord said absent mindedly. “Those fillies are going to be as big, or bigger, than their uncle Big Mac.”

He looked directly at Ivy. “You probably don’t understand it yet, but you are a very lucky little filly having friends like Gala and Honeycrisp. And little Appleseed. Never forget that. And don’t ever take it for granted.”

Ivy nodded, hearing her mother’s soft sobs.

She wiggled forward, sitting next to her mother and nosing her. She felt herself pulled in, being squished between her father and mother.

“It doesn’t matter what we are Ivy.” Discord said, stroking her back. “What matters is, what we make ourselves. We have to give them options.”

“I don’t understand.” Ivy mumbled.

“Well,” stated Discord, “we are crossbreeds. We can’t change that. But we can choose to become good friends. We can choose to love. We can choose to do good. If we do these things, those that know and love us won't think of us as crossbreeds.”

Ivy closed her eyes, taking the words in.

“Instead, others will call us friend. Family. Loved one. Crossbreed will be the last thing on their mind.”

“What?” Ivy asked.

“My dearest Fluttershy, what am I to you?” Discord asked.

Fluttershy took a few deep shuddering breaths to compose herself. She wiped her nose with her foreleg.

“You are my mate. You are one of my best friends. I can’t pick out a very bestest friend, sorry…” she squeaked, “you are Ivy’s father. And something I love dearly.”

“And what is Ivy?” Discord continued.

“My foal. My filly. Your filly. Our family.” Fluttershy sniffled.

“Do you think of us as crossbreeds?” Discord asked in a low voice.

“NO!” Fluttershy said sharply.

“I rest my case,” stated Discord, raising his eyebrow, “do you understand Ivy?”

Ivy said nothing, but nodded, rubbing her cheek against her father.

“Your antlers are getting a bit pokey.” Discord said.

“We should get your mother sorted out before company arrives.” Discord said, hugging them both gently.

Pink Pony Interlude

Pinkie Pie gazed at Cyclone, standing there in his armor. She felt her heart race. Her Pinkie sense was going completely crazy. It always went off around him, but today it was particularly bad.

He was handsome. He had removed his helmet. It sat on a stump a short distance away.

He was the colour of graham crackers, with white spots splashed over his coat, and had a chocolatey mane and tail.

“Hey handsome,” giggled Pinkie, “I want s’more of you.”

Cyclone groaned. “I can’t take that pun no s’more.”

“Think the others will find us?” Cyclone asked suddenly.

“No,” Pinkie replied, “they’re gonna be busy for a while playing tag. I like playing tag, but I think I like you more.”

The stallion began to stammer wordlessly. In the distance, he heard a snort. He fell silent and listened for the sound again. Probably just a wild animal.

“How long have we been seeing each other?” Cyclone asked.

“Ain’t that just like a stallion!” Pinkie replied.

“I, uh, well, erm…” Cyclone blew air out from his lips, making a flatulent sound.

Pinkie giggled.

“I was hoping to catch you alone today.” He managed to stammer out after a few tries.

“You wanted to play tag with me?” Pinkie replied in teasing tones.

“Not exactly.” Cyclone stammered.

Pinkie’s whole body was clenching alarmingly. Her Pinkie sense was broadcasting every emotion available. She felt the urge to run, as if she was in danger, but that was silly. There was no danger here.

Pinkie dealt with the conflicting emotions the same way she dealt with everything else. She giggle-snorted.

Much to her surprise, her ill ease didn’t shoot out of her nose. This was alarming!

Pinkie began to feel nervous.

“I, uh, well you see, I’ve been thinking, or trying to, which I really can’t do because when I think of you I can’t think at all…” Cyclone made another whoopie cushion noise with his lips as his words died.

“Oh horse apples I can talk to every mare but you Pinkie Pie.” snapped Cyclone.

“I’ll take that as a compliment!” Pinkie chirped.

Pinkie took a few steps closer. Cyclone’s damaged concentration failed completely. He looked into her blue eyes and got lost for a few minutes, tumbling into their depths.

This day was not turning out as planned.

“Hrrglenurk…” Cyclone hrrglenurked.

“What’s that?” Pinkie asked, taking a perverse pleasure in completely and utterly destroying Cyclone’s mind.

“Jummaglump…” Cyclone jummaglumped.

He spat out his own tongue, and looked down cross eyed at the traitorous organ.

Pinkie tittered and covered her mouth fetchingly with her foreleg.

“I once had this problem with poison joke,” Pinkie said, “Zecora was able to fix it.”

Oh, this day was turning out awful, Cyclone reflected.

“Flibibbittity!” He flibibbittited.

Pinkie leaned in a little closer. Cyclone could feel her hot breath on his muzzle. Oh, this wasn’t helping at all.

“You want to see my whats?” Pinkie said in sultry tones.

His wings exploded, every feather standing out, his wings suddenly as stiff as iron rods.

Oh, fantastic he thought to himself. Pinkie gazed him, her giggle fading away, and she fell silent.

In the distance, Cyclone heard what he thought was a snort of laughter. Probably just some wild animal prowling around. He was in the woods, animals prowled here.

Cyclone backed a few steps away from Pinkie, stepping outside of the sugary smelling cloud of goodness she projected. She reeked of sugar and spices, and sweet things that assaulted his senses and left him stupid. He felt a small amount of intelligence returning as he backed away.

“Pinkie Pie.” He said finally.

The day could still be salvaged, he thought.

Pinkie stood in place, oddly silent, her breath coming in short gasps.

Cyclone finally had some room to breathe again.

“Pinkie, uh, we’ve been seeing each other for quite a while. I know my job keeps me away from you sometimes. And you’ve been the best mare ever waiting for me.” Cyclone paused and struggled to think again.

He cursed his brain.

“I can’t think of any other mare that I’d want to come home to.” He said with some small hesitation, hoping he had the right words.

“What are you saying?” Pinkie Pie asked, her hoof trailing little circles in the dirt.

No, not circles. Hearts. She was tracing little hearts in the dirt with her hoof. Cyclone once again found himself distracted.

Run! Cried Pinkie’s Pinkie sense.

“I, uh, I don’t know what I’m saying…” Cyclone mumbled, “I’m completely lost here.”

“I know where you are,” Pinkie replied in an odd shy sounding tone, “you can’t be lost if somepony knows where you are.”

Cyclone summoned all of his courage, which seemed to be failing him at the moment.

“Pinkie,” he shouted, “do you want to make a s’more pie with me?!”

Pinkie sucked in an impossibly large gasp. And then did it again. And again.

There was another gasp in the distance. Stupid forest animals, spoiling an already spoiled moment, Cyclone thought.

Pinkie looked downright bashful, her eyes glancing downward, a coy grin spreading over her face. Her ears fell down to the sides of her face.

“Does it come with extra creamy marshmallow filling?” Pinkie finally managed to chortle, her ears springing erect.

Cyclone’s mouth fell open at the brazen comment.

“Oh, your mouth is open! I know what can go in there!” Pinkie rushed forward suddenly, threw her forelegs around Cyclone’s neck, and kissed him savagely.

She pulled away, her forelegs still around his neck.

“Right now, I really need you to sift my flour and roll my dough!” Pinkie stated. “And yes, the answer is yes you big dummy. Now get to siftin’! And this dough ain’t gonna roll itself!”

Cyclone complied with her requests before his brain could betray him.

Remembering Twilight's Lesson

Ivy hung upside down from a tree branch by her tail. She clutched a watering can in one of her hind claws. It was half full and sloshed a bit as she squirmed.

She was surrounded by those she loved, and those that loved her.

She was suspended above a garden. Her garden. Celestia stood nearby, covered in grass stains, with a disheveled Twilight by her side. Her mama stood next to Twilight.

All around her were faces, looking at her. She swallowed.

Hanging upside down was the best way to get the blood to her brain, allowing her to think. Her mind raced. She fidgeted nervously, causing the watering can to slosh some more. She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself.

“Climbing Ivy,” Twilight began, “do you remember your lessons?”

Ivy remained silent. She closed her eyes, trying to will the words to come. She felt something close around one of her ears and give it a gentle tug. She turned her head and opened her eyes, seeing her father. He was rightside up, just the way he should be. Ivy felt better.

“I remember my lessons.” Ivy stated.

“Well?” Twilight asked.

Ivy reached down with her claw, gently caressing a pea plant. The side of her talon-finger stroked a leaf, her claw angled away from the delicate greenery.

“I can guide growth,” Ivy started, her voice rising slightly, “I can encourage growth.” Ivy paused, feeling the plant spring to life at her touch. It grew visibly, several pea pods growing exceptionally large. “But I must never corrupt growth.”

One of the pea pods was as large as a regular sized cucumber now.

“I am Climbing Ivy, and I must be content with small magic. I can enhance nature, increase its potential, but I must never work against nature.” Ivy took a deep breath and closed her eyes again.

“And who has taught you these lessons?” Twilight asked.

“You Twilight. You explained to me the nature of my magic.” Ivy paused and reconsidered, remembering what Twilight had rehearsed with her, and Ivy made a decision to go against what Twilight had instructed her to do. “And my father, Discord, has taught me why I should be content with small magic, and has given me good reason and understanding as to why I should never corrupt nature. It will lead me down a path from which I might not return.”

Ivy opened her eyes, and looked at Twilight. Twilight’s eyes were misty.

Ivy tilted the watering can in her hind claws, letting some water sprinkle down.

The peas below her had grown immensely. She plucked a cucumber sized pea pod and held it in her talons. She held it for a moment, feeling its heft.

She held out the pea pod to Celestia.

Celestia stepped forward, and took the pea pod with her magic. She looked down upon it, feeling a faint hint of awe. She had lived for a very long time and moments like these were rare and treasured.

The pea pod didn’t feel corrupted. Celestia probed with her strongest magic, taking in the pea pods essence.

It was just a pea pod. A very large pea pod. It wasn’t a flesh eating pea pod, or a poisonous pea pod, or even an exploding pea pod which might kill a pony or a creature that ate it.

Celestia looked at Ivy fondly.

Chaos magic lingered in the pea pod. Celestia reflected upon this. It was neither good nor evil in this state, it simply was. Like a storm that formed over the sea randomly or a rainbow appearing from a waterfall. Random magic produced by nature, wild, untamed. Raw.

Celestia lifted the pea pod to her lips, pausing. It smelled like a pea pod.

Celestia took a bite.

One enormous pea snapped from the pod, along with the outer flesh of the pod itself. It was sweet. The pea popped in her mouth. It was, quite possibly, the finest pea she had ever eaten. She imagined them hot, but not mushy, with lots of butter, salt, and pepper.

“Climbing Ivy, filly of Fluttershy and Discord, student of Twilight Sparkle, I would like to accept you into the Alicorn Academy, a school for those with gifts of magic.”

Celestia gazed into Ivy’s eyes.

“Would you like to come and be a student?” Celestia asked, her tone gentle and inviting.

Fluttershy buried her face against Twilight and started weeping.

Ivy listened to her mother’s sobs and hung there thoughtfully.

“I guess this means leaving home.” Ivy said in a small but brave voice.

“Yes.” Celestia stated. “It does.”

“And remembering my father’s lessons, I know how badly things could turn out for me.” Ivy paused, reflectively. “I wouldn’t learn from my father’s mistakes if I kept myself stupid.” Ivy continued, scowling at her own words. They didn’t sound quite right, but she didn’t know how else to say them.

“Are you saying that you want to take responsibility for your actions Ivy?” Celestia commented.

Ivy thought for a while before giving an answer. “Something like that. I think. I have a lot of ponies that love me. I can say that I love them back, or I can show them. By being grown up and doing the right thing.” Ivy scratched an antler. Something still didn’t feel right.

“That’s my sugarbooger!” Applejack exclaimed.

Ivy suddenly flooded with relief. Applejack, always honest, was never one for false praise. Ivy almost cried from relief.

She felt forelegs wrapping around her and squeezing. Her father. His embrace was warm. Ivy took shelter in it.

“Ivy.” Discord’s voice tickled her ear, causing it to flicker. He dropped his head even closer, letting go of her completely.

“My beloved Ivy, I need for you to remember something.”

She nodded, unable to speak.

“You are the only one in the world that is rightside up. It is everypony else that is upside down.” Discord whispered faintly.

Ivy took in her father’s nonsensical wisdom. She was going to have to spend some time thinking about what her father had said.

“Your father knows what he is talking about.” Celestia said faintly. “Your perspective and your viewpoints are an asset. Do not forget them.”

Ivy looked at everypony around her. So many hopeful eyes.

“Twilight?” Celestia asked.

“Yes Celestia?” Answered Twilight.

“You have made a fine selection.” Celestia turned to look at Twilight.

“I know.” Twilight said confidently.

Author's Note

It was so satisfying filling Celestia's mouth with delicious green pea-ness.

This chapter was always intended to a short transitional chapter so the main bits of the story could get a move on. But it was a moment that I wanted acknowledged.

The next chapter involves more trains. And a social worker with a motherly cutie mark.

Return to Canterlot

Ivy was nervous. She hadn’t been on a train in quite some time. It had been so long that she couldn’t even remember her first train ride, back when she had been delivered. Her tummy rumbled. She hadn’t eaten anything in a while. Ivy didn’t want any accidental discharges. Setting the train on fire would be awful.

There was noise all around her as she tried to get comfortable in her seat. She squirmed. In the seats across from her sat her mother and her father. The seat next to her was empty. Fluttershy was busy whispering something into Discord’s ear, and with the way her father was cackling, Ivy wasn’t sure she wanted to know what was being said.

The seats were a lot more comfortable for pony tails, Ivy decided. Her own tail was solid. Bulky when curled up. And at least five or six times the length of her body. It also had a mind of its own and its own very distinct personality, which was very different from Ivy’s. Ivy’s tail was full of mischief. Ivy knew for certain that she was sweet and innocent. Her mother had told her so. But her tail was nothing but trouble and her mother had confirmed that fact.

Ivy eyed the luggage rack above her and wondered if she could hang from that for the duration of the trip.

There were only a few other ponies in the car, spread out to other places.

One more pony entered the car, and Ivy felt her heart leap into her throat. An obnoxiously purple unicorn boarded, levitating a bag behind her.

“Oh hi hi!” Ivy exclaimed, falling back on old habits. She squirmed in her seat, her tail writhing.

The unicorn drew closer, smiling. She stuffed her bag into the overhead compartment and drew close to Ivy.

“Mind if I sit down?” Sugarplum asked, leaning in close to Ivy.

Ivy said nothing but threw her forelegs around the unicorn’s neck and squeezed.

“Hello Sugarplum.” Said Fluttershy.

“Hi there!” Discord chuckled.

Ivy continued to squeeze for a moment, and then let go. Sugarplum took the seat next to Ivy.

“I’m going to a special school!” Ivy announced.

“So I’ve heard.” Sugarplum replied with a smile.

“Out on business?” Discord asked.

“Yes,” answered Sugarplum, “just made a delivery.”

“Somepony got a good home?” Ivy asked.

“I think so,” responded Sugarplum, “the colt I just delivered is living with a candy maker now.”

“Lyra and Bon Bon?” Fluttershy asked. “Rarity said that Bon Bon had told her about wanting to adopt when they were in the spa together.”

Sugarplum nodded.

“Oh this is a happy day.” Fluttershy said. And then she seemed to droop a bit. “And a sad day. Ivy is leaving.”

Discord wrapped a foreleg around Fluttershy and squeezed.

“How long,” asked Sugarplum, “if you don’t mind me asking.”

Fluttershy rubbed her belly with a forehoof.

“A few more months,” she said in a low whisper, “sometime around Hearth Warming.”

“So a special gift for the holidays.” Sugarplum replied.

“I’m getting something special for Hearth Warming?” Ivy asked.

“Yes.” Discord looked at Ivy. “You are getting something wonderful for Hearth’s Warming.”

Ivy squirmed. She couldn’t help it. Sitting on her tail didn’t help either.

“Do you still have your dolls Ivy?” Sugarplum asked.

Ivy beamed, her crest rising. She seemed embarrassed. “They’re in my bag.” Ivy replied in a low whisper. “I know I’m supposed to be all grown up now…” Ivy’s voice ended abruptly.

“How are they?” Sugarplum asked.

“Oh, they’re fine. I’m very careful with them. Twilight cast a spell on them for me cleaning them up and making them almost like new again.” Ivy gave an embarrassed glance to Sugarplum. “And Rarity made them some clothing.”

“I can’t believe I was recreated as a doll of all things.” Discord interrupted. “I should be an action figure or something. Something not a doll! Scandalous! A toy for little fillies.”

Fluttershy giggled.

“Ivy would throw little tea parties and put me in a little yellow dress. The indignity.” Discord rolled his eyes.

Sugarplum began to chuckle.

“But you look pretty in the yellow dress daddy…” Ivy said while trying to stifle a giggle.

“These seats were never designed for draconic entities with tails!” Discord announced suddenly, squirming in his seat.

“And there was a fetching bright pink ribbon too.” Fluttershy interjected.

Discord glared at her for a moment. “Ugh.” He grumbled.

“I kinda liked the red and white polka dot dress.” Ivy offered.

“Too garish,” Fluttershy said, “clashes with Discord’s earthy tones.”

“Who says something has to match?” Ivy asked in wounded tones.

“Oh, I didn’t mean it in a bad way. Sometimes mismatching things are beautiful too!”

Ivy grinned broadly.

“You… you… you were putting me on!” Fluttershy stammered. “Just like your father does.”

“Yeah I was,” said Ivy, snickering.

“You’ve grown so much Ivy.” Fluttershy said. “My little Climbing Ivy. Off growing when I’m not looking. And now you are leaving home. You are going to grow so much when I am not there to see.” Fluttershy’s eyes flooded suddenly. She buried her face against Discord’s side.

“Fluttershy tears keeps my fur incredibly soft and silky.” Discord said with a half hearted sigh, his own attempt at humour failing to cheer himself up. He slumped in his chair and pulled Fluttershy closer.

“All foals leave home at some point. Ivy is too special for you two to keep her all to yourselves. You’re going to have to share her with the world. You’ve done a good job preparing her for whatever life has to offer her.” Sugarplum said in encouraging tones.

“And I’ll be back for visits. And there will be plenty of times that I’ll be in Ponyville along with my fellow students when it is Twilight’s turn to give us lessons. And I’ll be home for Applejack’s birth. I haven’t missed one of those yet, even though I really don’t remember the first time very much.” Ivy sounded sad. “I’m not sure I’ve done a very good job of talking myself into this.”

“You will be fine.” Sugarplum insisted. “There are some very important lessons that you can only learn when you are very young. When your mind is still fresh and you are a blank slate, when you are still filled with awe and wonder about the world around you, when you still ask why, before life finds a way to squash the wonder out of you and you begin to think like an adult. To be a foal, to be young, when your toys still talk to you, and there are marvelous stories and adventures to be found in your toy box, while your imagination is still developing and all of your possibilities are still endless, and life hasn’t had found a way to shorten your horizons just yet.”

Ivy’s muzzle scrunched. It was a lot to take in. She wished that she was hanging right side up right now, letting the blood flow to her brain so she could think about everything that was just said. She suddenly felt very upside down sitting in her chair. Directions didn’t make sense anymore.

“My toys still talk to me.” Ivy said, still trying to take everything in. “And there are still stories to be told. My dolls have lots of adventures, just like Daring Do.”

“Then it isn’t too late. Now is a special time for you to be learning. Do not squander this time Ivy.” Sugarplum said in a very serious tone. “Remember to play and study in equal parts. Remember to play while you are studying, and make sure you study while you play. Do you understand Ivy?”

“I’m not sure I do.” Ivy said.

Sugarplum smiled gently. “Pay attention to how your dolls and toys treat one another as you project life into them. Are they kind? Are they mean? Are they noble? Do they share among one another? Are they selfish?”

Ivy’s mind flooded suddenly, and she was overwhelmed. She felt kind of faint. Her thoughts raced and whirled. Her dolls, her toys, had their own life. How did Sugarplum know this? Their own personalities. Every stuffy she had was unique, different, and she knew them all so very well. Ivy’s eyes darted about, her ears rose and fell, and then rose again, her tail began to twitch fitfully.

“Ivy?”

Sugarplum’s voice seemed far away at the moment.

“Climbing Ivy?”

“Yes?” Ivy finally replied.

“What I said is sinking in, isn’t it?” Sugarplum asked.

“I dunno…” Ivy answered honestly.

“You are a very smart little filly Ivy. You’ll take all of this in and you will find some meaning. Try to not let it overwhelm you.” Sugarplum’s voice was gentle, soothing.

Ivy struggled and stammered for several minutes, trying to work out a response. Her parents were looking at her, and Sugarplum had a foreleg wrapped around her shoulders.

“All of my dolls are good to one another.” Ivy finally said. “I don’t have a cruel doll.”

She grabbed her twitching tail in both of her talons and gave it a thoughtful squeeze.

“I had a very mean doll when I was a little filly foal.” Fluttershy said in a quiet voice. “He was cruel to me and I knew he didn’t like me. He was bossy and controlled my other toys.” She finished with a squeak. She sniffled a bit. “One day I packed him away in a box along with a lot of my other toys. I went to flight camp. I was growing up.” Fluttershy paused, looking terrified. “And when I was at flight camp, I could still hear his voice, teasing me and saying horrible things to me. Bad things. About how I couldn’t fly, and how everypony was staring at me and laughing, and worthless and weak I was, what I terrible pegasus I was.” Fluttershy wheezed, her chest heaving. Her voice was almost inaudible.

Discord gave her a supporting squeeze.

“Discord?” Sugarplum asked.

“What?” Discord replied in a flat guarded voice.

“Anything to say?”

“No.”

“Surely you have an experience from when you were young. You were young once. Didn’t you have toys? I mean, I know you were young a long time ago, but dolls and simple toys have been around for a very, very long time.”

Discord fell completely silent.

“Say something for Ivy?” Sugarplum prodded.

“I don’t want to say anything because of Ivy.” Discord said flatly.

“Why?” Ivy asked.

“I don’t understand,” said Sugarplum, “you’ve been very open about your life so far to teach Ivy all sorts of things.”

Discord growled faintly.

“Daddy?” Ivy asked.

“Fine!” Discord snapped. “I never had any toys.”

“That’s tragic.” Sugarplum said sincerely.

“There was no time for toys. No place for them. No home for them.”

Sugarplum seemed genuinely sad.

“We were creatures that lived in the wilds. We weren’t welcomed in civilisation.” Discord snarled. “We didn’t have soft warm beds and a roof over our heads. We had nothing. I had nothing.”

“Surely you had your parents.” Sugarplum responded.

Discord’s expression became rancorous.

“I guess not.” Sugarplum said gently.

“Daddy?” Ivy said again.

“What Sprout?” Discord said, trying to hold in his venom.

“What happened?”

“Daddy doesn’t want to talk about it.” He snapped.

“Talk!” Ivy commanded. She glared at her father.

“It isn’t something you should be hearing.” Discord muttered.

“I’ve learned from every story you’ve told me.” Ivy said in an irritated voice. “You’ve made me learn! You didn’t explain, you made me think about it and figure it out. Now talk!” Ivy bared her teeth.

“Ivy,” Sugarplum said gently, “you shouldn’t bare your teeth like that. You look very aggressive, and it might scare somepony. You have an awful lot of teeth.”

“Sugarplum, leave her be.” Fluttershy said gently. “We’re ponies. This is a dispute between two draconic entities. We should respect their ways. The other ponies might be scared, but nothing really bad will happen. Let them sort it out.”

Sugarplum paused, realising her psychology was pony-centric. She felt humbled.

Ivy’s crest was fully erect. Her eyes were narrowed, her teeth bared. She glared at her father and there seemed to be a silent contest of wills. Her slitted grey eyes glittered with raw anger.

Discord relented, turning away.

Ivy calmed.

“Fine.” Discord said in defeat. He sighed.

“I don’t know who or what my father was. Probably another crossbreed. There were other crossbreeds around. We didn’t always get along with one another, but we lived near one another in a valley.”

Ivy’s crest relaxed and her anger had completely vanished. Sugarplum jotted down a lot of mental notes.

“My mother was a bit like me,” he continued, “a jumbled mess. I didn’t know her name. I had only ever called her mama.” Discord sniffed. His talons drummed on the windowsill.

“I don’t know if you should be hearing this Sprout.” Discord warned.

“Out with it.” Ivy said, her muzzle contorting. “You don’t let me hold in stuff when I’m gloomy. You drag it out of me and I don’t get a say in the matter.”

“Ivy, perhaps this is a bad idea.” Said Sugarplum.

Ivy continued to stare at her father.

“Griffons came to the valley,” continued Discord, “hunting for food. It was winter. Cold. The world was a lot colder back then. There was a lot of ice.”

Ivy felt a prickle in her tail.

“Stop.” Ivy said.

Discord looked at her.

Ivy squirmed in her chair.

“Make up your mind Sprout.”

“The griffons did something bad, didn’t they?”

“Yes Sprout.”

“Found food?”

Sugarplum fought back a sudden wave of nausea.

Fluttershy let out a low squeal.

Ivy squirmed out of her chair and crawled up into her father’s chair, settling into his forelegs.

“That’s enough for now.” Ivy said, resting her head against Discord’s shoulder.

“Discord.” Sugarplum’s voice was choked with raw emotion.

“Yes?”

Sugarplum struggled to find her voice. “I am going to have some dolls made for you.”

“Why?” Discord asked. “You don’t know what my parents looked like. I don’t have adopted parents. What purpose would they serve?”

Sugarplum made a dismissive gesture with her hoof. “The dolls will look like Fluttershy and Ivy. Your family. Perhaps some time spent reflecting upon them is in order.”

Discord stared out the window. They were going up the winding grade towards Canterlot. It wouldn’t be long now. An antler poked him in the chin.

“I think I’d like that.” Discord finally replied. “Fluttershy?” He asked.

He felt her lean against him, cuddling close against him and Ivy.

“Would you like to play dolls with me?”

Fluttershy sputtered for a moment. “Why does everything have to be a joke to you?” She asked, a hint of anger in her tone.

“I wasn’t joking.”

“Oh…” Fluttershy responded, “oh, I am sorry… I thought you were joking. You usually make jokes to deal with uncomfortable situations, I am so so sorry, please forgive me I…”

“No worries dearest.” He said, interrupting her. “Well, would you?”

“I guess so?” Fluttershy answered.

Discord turned his gaze back out the window. Ivy was silent against his chest.

“Playing with dolls together could be therapeutic.” Sugarplum offered.

“I know.” Discord said. “I remember our therapy sessions while I recovered. I remember them fondly. They brought me to where I am now. I am happy now. Content. I’ve made peace with life.”

“Is this why you are so protective of me?” Ivy asked suddenly.

Discord said nothing.

“This is why you stayed alone, isn’t it?”

“I had relationships.” Discord admitted.

“Warring with Celestia and Luna was not a relationship.”

“Sure it was.”

“Not a good one.”

Discord sighed and tried to find something interesting out the window.

“My leaving is hurting you.” Ivy poked him in the chest with a talon.

Discord said nothing.

Sugarplum was staring at him.

He sighed heavily.

“I can’t keep you forever. Sooner or later I had to let go.”

“Letting somepony in was hard enough, wasn’t it Discord?” Asked Sugarplum.

“One of the most difficult things ever.”

Sugarplum realised that even her language was pony-centric. She felt conflicted. There were other sentient races. Ponies were going to have make changes, and soon.

“I’ll send letters.” Ivy said. “I’ve already promised to write to Gala, Honeycrisp, and Appleseed. And you’ll be busy looking after mama. She’s going to need you.”

“And making pottery.” Discord added. “Some little filly keeps eating all of the tableware.”

“Now look here, if I didn’t eat it, the cupboards would get full, and you wouldn’t need to make more, and you wouldn’t be learning anything or getting better. You need me.”

Ivy logic, Fluttershy thought to herself.

“More than you know.” Discord said.

“I’m hungry somethin’ awful…” Ivy said, mimicking the Apple family drawl.

“There’s going to be a meal when you get there.” Fluttershy replied.

“I guess you won’t be there.”

“We can’t. This is a special time for you to get to know your teachers and your fellow students. We’ll get a chance to say goodbye later, and then Discord and I are going home.”

Ivy slumped against her father.

“Ivy, your antlers. They’re stabby.”

“I know daddy. And they itch like crazy.”

“Ivy, you should watch deer and see how they deal with itchy antlers.”

“I know mama.”

“I wonder how large they will grow.” Sugarplum said.

“Sugarplum, do I have a story to tell you…” Discord said, a faint cackle in his voice.

“Hmm?” Sugarplum responded.

“When Ivy was younger,” he started, “she was sitting on the sofa with her mother. I couldn’t move too well back then. Her antlers were starting to grow. She was watching her mother knit and kept poking at Fluttershy’s yarn with her claw.”

Ivy did her best to try and melt from embarrassment. “No…” she muttered.

“Fluttershy was getting frustrated. She’s too kind to actually do much about it, but Ivy wouldn’t stop poking at the yarn and her mother’s knitting.”

Fluttershy squirmed uncomfortably. “Oh, what I did was awful, just awful.”

“So Ivy keeps poking and Fluttershy finally loses her patience. She took a ball of yarn and jammed it down onto Ivy’s little antler. Ivy completely froze, her little eyes going cross eyed as she tried to look up and see what was on her head.”

Ivy fidgeted while Fluttershy whimpered.

“Ivy fell right over and didn’t move. She just laid there for a while, trying to figure out what was stuck to her adorable little head.”

Sugarplum began to chuckle.

“She finally tries to reach up and remove it, but her little forelegs are far too short. Ivy completely freaked out, slunk off of the couch, and then hid under the other sofa, yowling pitifully.”

Fluttershy hung her head. “I feel so ashamed.”

“Is it possible to die from being embarrassed?” Asked Ivy. “He always tells this story to everypony!”

“Fluttershy had to lure her out with a jar of apple butter. She had to leave it in the middle of the floor with the lid off the jar and wait for Ivy to emerge, so she could catch Ivy and remove the ball of yarn.” Discord cackled with fiendish glee. “But that isn’t the worst of it.”

“Oh no…” Fluttershy murmured. “No, please, stop. You’ve had your fun.”

“Ivy never got any of the apple butter. Fluttershy put it away after the yarn was removed. Ivy was one cranky little monster for the rest of the afternoon. Refused to take her nap.”

Fluttershy drooped in her chair, slumping down. Her forehooves were resting on her stomach.

Ivy crawled out of her father’s forelegs and into her mother’s seat, crowding her mother.

“You’re awful!” She announced as she retreated.

“I know.” Discord replied.

Ivy cuddled against her mother, who cuddled her back. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you any apple butter. I wasn’t thinking.”

“We’re going to be in Canterlot soon,” announced Discord, looking out the window, “I’m glad we’ve had this family moment of bonding over embarrassment.”

Ivy’s tail booped Discord in the nose. He stared down at for a moment, cross eyed. “Why you little…” It swished away and coiled around one of Fluttershy’s hind legs.

Canterlot awaited.

Nine Horns

“Ivy?” Twilight’s voice was hesitant.

“Yes Twilight?” Ivy paused, trying to remember manners. “Sorry, Princess Twilight.”

“Ugh, no need for that,” Twilight grunted, “I must make a request of you. A very serious request.”

“What’s that Twilight?” Ivy responded as they walked.

“Ivy, you must promise me that you will not eat the castle.”

Ivy stopped in mid-stride and giggled.

“I’m being serious Ivy!” Twilight said. “Celestia and Luna will be grumpy if you go gnawing on the walls again. You must exercise restraint.”

“Again?” Asked Ivy.

“When you were little, you stayed here for a while,” said Twilight, recalling a painful memory of dragonfire, “and you nibbled a bit on the castle.”

“I promise I will not nibble the castle.” Ivy swore.

“And there is probably a lot of other things here you shouldn’t eat.” Twilight thought out loud.

“I know my father tells stories about what I eat, but really, I only eat what I know is OK to eat. Most of the time. Sometimes I really can’t help myself. Like when I go through a molt.” Ivy protested.

The pair walked through a long hallway, Twilight's hooves clopping, Ivy’s claws clicking.

“And mind your claws Ivy. I know you really do try to be a good filly. But you really need to be extra careful here. Celestia, as much as she adores you, will scold you. And you will not like it. Celestia should probably have a cutie mark for scolding.” Twilight reflected aloud.

“I heard that!” Said a mare trotting up behind them.

“Nightfisher!” Ivy squealed. Ivy paused again in mid step. “Oh, best manners. Sorry.”

Nightfisher fell into gait along the two.

“Hello Princess of the In Between Time.” Nightfisher said, bowing her head slightly.

“Huh?” Ivy asked.

“The lunar pegasi keep calling me that.” Twilight explained.

“Twilight is sacred to us. As the night rises, the twilight heralds the end of the tyranny of the day.”

“Oh.” Ivy said, not sure if she understood.

“And Twilight the mare brought balance between the the Two Sisters, restoring harmony and order. We revere her as we would our Mistress.” Nightfisher explained.

“Oh, I think I see.” Ivy said, struggling to keep up as the two mares picked up their pace. “If I try to walk any faster I am going to scratch the floor. I can’t get a grip with my claws on this marble.”

“Nightfisher?” Ivy asked.

“Yes Ivy?”

“Please keep an eye on my mama while I’m gone.” Ivy requested.

“Oh, I do that already. She’s a friend.” Nightfisher paused. “And this is where we part. Good bye!” Nightfisher broke away and exited through a door.

Ivy looked up and saw stained glass windows. She saw her father. She cringed.

“Almost there Ivy.” Twilight said.

Ivy stood in a small private garden, surrounded by tall hedges. There was a gate on one side. Before her was a table. It was piled high with food. Cushions had been placed around the table. Ivy felt like she was going to throw up. Twilight had disappeared through the gate, and Ivy was alone.

But not for long. She heard voices.

“Mother, I am worried. What if I have an accident? What if I am not ready? What if I fail? Other ponies could get hurt. I am not comfortable with this arrangement.” A voice said.

Egghead, Ivy thought. She liked eggheads. And there was something in the air. Something eggy. Rotten eggy. Ivy’s mouth began to water. Something truly feculent was in the air, and it was mouth wateringly awful. A long ribbon of drool escaped her lips, hanging from the corner of her mouth. She slurped, trying to be rid of the embarrassing slobber.

“Brimstone, you will be fine. You haven’t had an accident in over a year. Keep your emotions in check. Remain calm. Remember to breathe...”

Ivy recognised that voice. That was Luna!

“What if they hate me because of the way I smell?” Replied a small voice.

“Then a poor choice was made in selecting our students. I am sure there is bound to be some initial discomfort to begin with, but as you know, you can adjust somewhat to the smell. The maids have grown used to you.”

“You pay the maids.” Said the voice in logical tones.

“Brimstone!”

Ivy heard a whine.

She drooled. Her stomach rumbled. She really was hungry, and the sulfurous stench smelled divine.

“Hello.” Ivy said as a dingy yellow colt stepped through the gate.

“Greetings and salutations,” the colt replied. “I am Brimstone.”

“I’m Ivy.”

“I apologise up front for my malodorous aroma.” Brimstone said softly.

“Your what?” Ivy responded.

“My stench.” Brimstone replied, dropping his eyes.

“You smell delicious!” Ivy exclaimed exuberantly. She rushed forward with alarming speed and pressed her nose into Brimstone’s yellow coat.

“Personal space!” He cried, trying to back away.

“But you really smell good! Good enough to eat.” Ivy said, leaning forward.

“GAH!” Brimstone said, trying to retreat through the gate. He bumped into Luna. “SHE IS GOING TO EAT ME!” He cried, trying to push past her.

“Oh, I would never eat a pony.” Ivy said, suddenly becoming shy.

Luna laughed.

“Somepony likes the way you smell Brimstone. Isn’t that pleasant?” Luna’s voice was teasing.

“She drooled on me!” He replied, still somewhat panicked.

“You really do smell good,” Ivy said in her own defense, “I can’t help it.”

“You think I smell good? Nopony has ever said that before. Ever. You. You are odd.” Brimstone stared at Ivy, trying to take Ivy in. There was a lot to take in at once.

Ivy smiled fetchingly and Brimstone cringed. Ivy recoiled, remembering what her smile did to ponies. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop smiling.”

The two foals eyed one another for a while. Eventually, Brimstone extended his hoof. “Pleased to meet you.”

Ivy’s tail shot forward, grabbing the extended hoof and coiling around it. It shook the hoof gently.

“Oh, you’ll have to excuse my tail. I have no control over it.”

“We have something in common.” Brimstone said. “I cannot fault you for something you have no control over.”

Ivy felt a strange heat rising up her neck and into her cheeks.

She became aware that Luna was staring at her curiously.

“Hi Luna. Nice to see you again.” Ivy paused. “Oh, Princess Luna. Sorry.”

Luna wrapped a foreleg around Ivy’s neck and hugged her close.

Ivy realised she was drooling again. She slurped. “Really, I am not a drooling idiot…” she mumbled, “but I am really hungry and the smell is driving me crazy.”

Brimstone said nothing, his face thoughtful, reflective. His crimson eyes peered at Ivy, and then to Luna. He trotted over and sat down on a cushion as Luna tried in vain to wipe drool off of Ivy’s muzzle.

“I’m going to look like an idiot.” Ivy whined.

“Just a little drool.” Luna soothed.

“A little?” Ivy said, spitting everywhere.

“Be calm Ivy. The drool can’t dribble forever. Go ahead and try to eat something dry, like crackers.”

Ivy went over, sat on a cushion, and grabbed some crackers. And some bread.

There were hoofbeats.

A regal looking pink alicorn appeared in the gate. “Cadance!” Luna said warmly.

A crystal unicorn trod through the gate, pausing and looking around. She sniffed slightly, looked as though she was about to say something, and then was completely silent.

Her coat, if it could be called that, was a faint lovely green. Her mane was silver and looked metallic. Her eyes were amber, and there was a keyhole shaped cutie mark on her backside. She moved with a delicate grace and beauty that matched Cadance’s. She bowed her head slightly.

“This is Minerva Silvermane,” Cadance said, “my student.”

Minerva strode forward and took a seat on the cushion. She looked at Brimstone, and then Ivy.

“Pleased to meet you both. I do hope we can be friends.”

“Greetings and salutations.” Brimstone replied.

“Hi hi.” Said Ivy, her excitement beginning to bubble.

Cadance took a seat next to her student.

Luna came and sat next to Brimstone.

Twilight Sparkle came through the gate, muttering incoherently.

“Twilight, is something wrong?” Cadance said, her voice tinged with a hint of alarm.

“Stupid Collective and unicorn unity…” grumbled Twilight, her muzzle contorted into a snarl, “there’s been another demonstration, this time in Baltimare.” Twilight stomped her hoof. “I am not going to let this ruin my day.” She said, taking a deep breath and drawing her hoof to her chest. She extended her hoof as she exhaled. She trotted over Ivy and took a seat next to her, throwing her forelegs around Ivy and hugging her.

“Sorry about your bad day Twilight.” Ivy whispered.

“Ivy, you’ve been drooling.” Twilight said in a hushed tone.

“I can’t help it.” Ivy muttered.

“My fault entirely.” Brimstone said.

Twilight looked confused.

“Ivy mistakes Brimstone for food.” Luna said, straining to hold back a giggle.

“He smells good enough to eat.” Ivy said in a low whisper.

“Does Minerva look crunchy?” Twilight asked.

“TWILIGHT SPARKLE!” Cadance cried in alarm.

Ivy slumped.

“I was trying to make a joke. Why is it that Luna makes jokes and everything is funny but when I make a joke ponies look at me like I just brought about the apocalypse?”

“You are an egghead?” Brimstone offered helpfully.

Luna chortled.

Cadance scowled and looked at her student. Minerva returned her glance. They both nodded.

“I can read an entire Daring Do novel all by my self. Does that make me an egghead? Ivy questioned.

“Probably,” said Twilight, scowling, “But so what if it does.”

“I am an egghead.” Brimstone announced. “I am memorising my set of encyclopedias!”

Luna groaned.

“Good for you Brimstone.” Said Twilight.

“I can play the trumpet.” Minerva offered, trying to join in and change the subject to something more appropriate.

“I’d like to hear you play the trumpet.” Brimstone replied.

There was a faint squeal from the gate, and six heads turned.

A filly came forward, with a blue coat and a wild purple-blue indigo mane. Celestia stood behind her. The filly’s nose was crinkled.

“Hoodwink, your new friends.”

Hoodwink said nothing, and tried to back out of the small private garden. She bumped into Celestia.

She gave Celestia a pleading look, and Celestia gently nudged her forward.

Finally, the filly shyly moved forward and took a seat.

Ivy leaned over. “Hi.” She said gently and quietly to the filly sitting next to her. “My mother is shy too. I know what it’s like.”

Hoodwink looked at Ivy. “I miss my mother,” Hoodwink sniffled, “but I did something bad.”

Ivy wrapped a foreleg around Hoodwink’s shoulder and leaned in closer.

“You did nothing wrong.” Celestia’s voice was firm and gentle.

“I still feel bad about it.” Hoodwink said.

Ivy pulled the filly in for a full blown Ivy hug and squeezed her as hard as she dared. “I did something bad once…” Ivy said in her most comforting tone, the tone she used when soothing animals, the tone borrowed from her mother, “I farted and set the house on fire.”

Hoodwink’s mouth fell open into an “O” of surprise.

“How do you fart and set the house on fire?” Hoodwink asked.

“That’s not important,” said Ivy, “what’s important is, my mama never stopped loving me. And never blamed me for what happened. It took some time, but I stopped blaming myself. I was harder on myself than my mama was.”

Hoodwink considered Ivy’s words. She leaned over and squeezed Ivy back.

“Feel better?” Celestia asked.

“A little,” said Hoodwink, “but I still feel lonely.”

“That is only natural.” Twilight said. “I left home at a very early age. I came here to be a student. I didn’t even know that I was lonely until I left school and went to Ponyville. Give it some time. It looks like you already have a friend.”

Celestia winked at Twilight, which was unseen by the two fillies clinging to one another.

“All of my friends are adults.” Brimstone muttered. “And most of them are lunar pegasi.”

Minerva flung her mane out of her eyes with a hoof. “The Silvermanes are considered odd and weird. Nopony in their right mind would let their foals play with the Silvermane foals. When Cadance gave me the offer to come here, I took it because I had hoped to find some friends.” She looked out at the other foals in the group, meeting their eyes each in turn. “I’ve read all about Twilight’s friendships studies. Like any proper Silvermane, I have an interest in unknown magic and magical oddities.”

“Sounding more and more like we are all eggheads.” Brimstone stated, matter of factly.

“I like books.” Hoodwink stated. “Twilight mailed me packages with books in them. It made mother complain because books took up wagon space.”

“I’m your godmother. Somepony had to make sure you could read.” Twilight said, levitating a slice of cake to her plate.

“You’re my godmother.” Ivy said.

“I am a lot of ponies’ godmother.” Twilight sighed, taking a bite of cake. “Comes with being a good friend.” Twilight popped a notepad into existence and began to scribble something down. “An egghead’s guide to being a godmother.” She muttered under her breath.

“There are nine horns at this table.” Celestia said suddenly.

Luna shrugged as she tore into a pile of sandwiches. “So what?”

Celestia shrugged.

Cadance helped her student load her plate.

“We need to work on levitation.” Celestia announced.

“I can’t levitate.” Said Ivy.

“You don’t need to levitate things Ivy.” Twilight said after swallowing. “You have claws. You can grab and hold all sorts of things. And a tail.” Twilight smiled. “Practical demonstration.” She announced.

She levitated a chunk of melon with her magic. “Ivy, catch. I don’t want this hitting the table.” Twilight tossed the melon with her magic.

Ivy watched the falling melon, and realised it was out of claw reach. She had other ways of catching it though.

Ivy’s tongue lashed out and snatched the melon from the air, and she drew it back with a loud slurp.

“That was fascinating.” Said Brimstone.

“It is how I catch bugs.” Ivy said.

“You eat bugs?” Minerva asked.

“All the time.” Ivy replied.

“How odd.” Minerva replied. “My uncle collects bugs.”

“So do I.” Ivy giggled.

“Bugs are gross.” Hoodwink said, finally joining in. “I’m glad Ivy eats bugs. Less bugs there are the better.”

“I once swallowed a beatle without chewing and it crawled out my nose while I was eating dinner at the table.”

“Climbing Ivy!” Celestia said.

Ivy slumped.

“Oh, Fluttershy fainted. I was there.” Twilight said around a mouthful of custard.

“Twilight Sparkle!”

“Yes, Celestia?”

Celestia sat there for a moment, trying to decide what to say.

“The whole point of this lunch together is to get to know one another. This is who and what Ivy is.” Twilight said defensively.

Luna horked and hawed, struggling to draw breath. With a cough, she cleared her windpipe and bellowed with laughter.

“Luna was there too. You missed a great dinner party Celestia.” Twilight said.

“Luna also has blue flames.” Ivy said in a small voice.

“I’m sorry, what?” Celestia said, puzzled, her muzzle scrunched.

Luna whooped and nearly fell over. She leaned on Brimstone, eyes wide, her ears twitching. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

Cadance groaned in discomfort.

“Blue fire?” Brimstone said, confusion on his face.

Twilight tried to compose herself under the withering glare she was getting from Cadance.

“What happened?” Hoodwink whispered in Ivy’s ear, causing a giggle to escape Ivy.

“I achieved a master level of communication between myself and Ivy’s unique species.” Luna bellowed, sinking into guffaws.

Ivy nodded sheepishly.

“Do I even want to know?” Celestia asked.

There was a “thump” as Luna slipped off Brimstone and hit the stone tile.

“Luna did a magnificent impersonation of a meteor entering the atmosphere.” Twilight said, her face stony. “Her skill at demonstrating astronomical events is unparalleled, as would be expected of the Princess of the Night.”

Celestia scowled and exchanged a glance with Cadance. “Do you know what they are going on about?” She asked.

Cadance nodded.

“Tell me.”

Cadance shook her head no.

“Ivy” Celestia inquired.

Ivy crammed an entire pile of sandwiches into her maw and began to chew. “Mouffull.” She muttered.

“I do believe my own mother used her magic to ignite flatus as it was expelled.” Brimstone said in an uncomfortable strained voice. “At least that is my conclusion based upon what I’ve gathered. I’ve read about an ancient ritual that involved igniting flatus as it exited as a right of passage among the ancient unicorns. It signified a level of control and mastery, being able to do several tasks at once, being able to summon fire, and being able to protect your posteriour from the consequences.”

Luna slowly sat up, still shaking with laughter.

“Thank you Brimstone.” Celestia said uncomfortably. “It isn’t every day that I learn something new.”

Minerva giggled, earning a glare from Cadance. She giggled again before gaining control over herself.

“Ancient unicorns?” Twilight said, snatching a caramel popcorn ball with her magic. “Everypony in Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns did that at some point. We all knew about it, and nopony believed it worked until they actually tried it.”

Celestia covered her eyes with a folded foreleg. “This explains all of the burned tails.” She muttered.

“Something in my tale supernovaed.” Luna stated.

“It did.” Twilight agreed.

“It was pretty.” Ivy proclaimed, after swallowing.

Cadance looked horrified.

“Your first lesson draws near.” Celestia said in a commanding voice, cutting through the chaos. “You will rest tonight and tomorrow. Tomorrow night, Luna and Twilight Sparkle will be taking you out on your first class. I suggest that you take this time to settle in, spend time getting to know one another, and resting.”

Luna became instantly serious. “Make sure you are well rested. I will not accept excuses about sleepy yawns. There will be punishment for sleepy foals that do not pay attention or nod off.”

Twilight cleared her throat. “I expect the very best out of all of you. I know what you are capable of. You’ve been chosen to be here. I will not tolerate slacking off. I expect results. I want you to be the exceptional and gifted students that you are. I will forgive almost anything except failing to live up to your own potential. Disappoint me, and you will spend a lot of time hearing about it.”

Brimstone shrugged. “I prefer the night.” He said.

“I’m scared of the dark.” Minerva said, a faint squeak in her voice. “I’m ashamed to admit it but it is better to do it now than when we are actually out in the dark.”

“I can cast a light spell.” Hoodwink said. “It isn’t very bright.”

“I could never get the hang of it. The dark makes me panic and then my spell fails.” Minerva looked miserable, she leaned against the table as she spoke. “I don’t want to fail.” Minerva said. “I hate failing. Makes me angry.”

“When things in the dark bother me I smile at them sweetly.” Ivy said. “My mama told me to smile sweetly at anything that scares me.”

“How does smiling help?” Minerva asked.

“Oh, you do not wish to become informed of this knowledge!” Brimstone stated.

“What?” Asked Hoodwink.

“You don’t want to know!” Brimstone repeated.

Ivy smiled her brightest smile, a big toothy grin.

Minerva fainted dead away with a thud. Cadance prodded her with a hoof.

Ivy stopped smiling and frowned. “I’m sorry.” She sniffled.

Ivy looked at Hoodwink, who was staring at her.

“You have shark teeth. I saw a shark when I was in Horseshoe Bay with my mother. It was in a big glass aquarium.” Hoodwink wrapped a foreleg around her friend comfortingly.

“Climbing Ivy.”

Ivy looked at Celestia and squirmed.

“Be still Ivy,” she said in gentle tones, “if there is ever trouble, you do what you must to protect your fiends. That goes for you as well Brimstone. If your lives are ever threatened, you do not hold back. Try to reason, try to negotiate, try to deal fairly with your enemies. But if that fails…”

“I couldn’t hurt anypony.” Ivy said. “My mama would never stop crying. I couldn’t live with that. I can deal with anything but her being disappointed with me.”

“Look after my little ponies.” Celestia asked.

Author's Note

Another chapter.

Leave some feedback if ya can, it is appreciated. Thanks!

Luna's Lesson

Three fillies sat in their room. Well, two fillies… And one not quite a filly. But close enough for friendship. The room wasn’t very large. It was just cramped enough to foster a sense of cooperation and compromise. There were three beds, one bunk bed and one single bed, a broad table that could be shared as a desk, and an immense bookshelf crammed with books. This was their home away from home, at least here in Canterlot.

There were two features in this room that set it apart from other student dormitories. Wooden rafters were suspended from the high ceiling, and there was a balcony, both of which were highly necessary for Ivy.

The fillies were nervous. Night was coming.

“Minerva, it is going to be OK. It’ll probably be dark but you’ll have us.” Hoodwink soothed.

“I know Winkie, but the dark still scares me. I…” Minerva faltered.

“What?” Asked Ivy. “Just spit it out. Don’t hold anything in. It will only hurt you later.”

“You’ll laugh at me.”

“Spit it out.” Ivy said bluntly.

She rose up on her haunches and folded her forelegs over her chest, tapping her hind claws on the stone floor.

“I’ve seen things in the dark.” Minerva said. “Bad things. Moving. They come to Silvermane manor. Cadance told me what I saw was real. They’re bad things and they come to the Silvermanes because we have strong weird magic. They want to corrupt us.” The filly halted, out of breath, near a panic.

“Oh, I know about those.” Ivy said, seemingly without any concern. “Mare Imbrium and Mare Frigoris smoosh those things all the time. I had a monster under my bed once.”

“You’re not teasing me?” Minerva asked, her eyes widening and her ears falling back.

“I don’t know what you two are talking about.” Hoodwink stated. “But clearly something is up. That much seems true.”

“I had a real monster under my bed. I saw it after Mare Frigoris killed it. Looked like a weird spider bird thing with too many legs and it had scorpion tails growing out of its backside.”

Minerva’s backside fell to the floor with a thump. She sat there in dawning horror.

“Imbrium told me that it was there to corrupt me. I had possibilities…” She paused, scratching her head. “That’s not the right word.” She scowled. “Anyway, I had possibilities to do good things and bad shades come to steal those possibilities away and make you bad.” Ivy let out a frustrated snort. “I’m really screwing this up. I don’t think my words are right. We should talk to Mare Imbrium together. But if you have shades creeping up on you, it is because you are a really good filly that will do good things and they don’t like that. If they can make you bad, you’ll do bad things and they need bad things to feed.”

Minerva flung herself into Ivy’s forelegs and clung to her. Ivy collected the unicorn and gave her an Ivy hug, which calmed Minerva a great deal.

“I have strong magic,” said Minerva, “and they want me to use my magic in a bad way, is that what you are saying?” She asked, clinging to Ivy.

“Yeah.” Ivy agreed. “But sometimes they find others who don’t have strong magic but still have a strong destiny. They try to ruin that. Take it away. They feed on earth ponies and pegasi too.”

“Horrible.” Hoodwink said. “Just horrible.”

“The lunar pegasi keep us safe and nopony really knows about it. Ponies are afraid of the lunar pegasi. They shouldn’t be.”

“I’ve always heard them called bat ponies.” Said Hoodwink.

“Are pegasi bird ponies? You don’t say mud pony to an earth pony, that’s ugly. And unicorns aren’t horn ponies.” Minerva stated. “Cadance explained these things to me after I saw a lunar pegasi for the first time. It scared me and I said something I shouldn’t have.”

“I’m a dragon pony.” Ivy said helpfully.

“No, you’re Ivy. That’s all. Nothing more.” Minerva argued.

Ivy shrugged. “I’m ‘other.’ My mother checked the box marked ‘other’ and I was delivered to her. I’m alright with this.”

“Than ‘other’ must be a really weird word for friend.” Hoodwink blurted.

The fillies giggled.

“Don’t be worried about the dark.” Ivy reminded.

“I’ll try.” Minerva offered.

“Just stay close to me.” Ivy said.

Hoodwink began to pull her hooded cloak free from her small trunk, with Ivy and Minerva watching her.

“Probably going to be cold,” explained Hoodwink, “and I don’t like the cold. Probably as much as Minerva doesn’t like the dark.”

Hoodwink paused.

“It is how I got my name. My mother told me this story. Not long after I was born, Twilight Sparkle dressed me in a hooded onesie because I wouldn’t stop shivering. When she gave me back to my mother, my mother saw me winking under the hood. Seems like a strange way to get a name, especially a name like Hoodwink, but Twilight Sparkle swears it is true. Hoodwink usually means to cheat somepony.”

Hoodwink’s cloak was black and covered in silver stars.

“My mother has a flare for drama. I’m not an evil wizard.” Hoodwink giggled.

It spilled around her body, hugging her small frame. Hoodwink began to look terribly sad.

“It smells like my mother’s perfume.” She said, her voice cracking. “Mother always spritzed my clothes. Said it was important to smell good.”

“It isn’t safe for me to wear clothing.” Ivy sighed. “I set them on fire. Or my tail rips them off. It doesn’t like clothing. I like to wear scarves though. My mother knits them.”

There was a knock at the door. “Girls?” Said Twilight. The door opened.

“Oh no an evil wizard!” Twilight exclaimed.

Hoodwink began to giggle.

“And she’s holding a crystal pony hostage with her terrible dragon guard.”

Ivy snorted. “I’m never the princess. Or the hostage. Or the damsel in distress.”

Twilight paused, reflecting for a moment. “Ivy, do you think for one moment that you would ever be a damsel in distress?”

Ivy scratched her chin absentmindedly as she thought about Twilight’s words.

“I suppose not. I’m better than that.” Ivy finally replied.

“I feel sorry for anything that tries to snatch you.” Twilight said.

“Dragons usually do guard the princess in the stories.” Ivy pondered out loud. “Twilight?” Ivy asked.

“What Ivy, keep it short, we must be going.” Twilight replied.

“Do you think I could guard the princesses someday?” Ivy questioned.

“You can do whatever you set your mind toward. Why stop at guarding the princesses? Why not all of the ponies? Everything that is bound to be smaller and weaker than you will be.” Twilight looked Ivy in the eye.

Ivy said nothing in return, looking very thoughtful.

“We must be going.” Twilight said.

The group trotted down the halls together, the fillies still mostly lost in the castle. They recognised a few things, and began to realise they were heading back out into the royal gardens. Lunar pegasi were everywhere, in an apparent state of agitation.

“Twilight Sparkle.”

An albino lunar pegasus bowed as Twilight went past.

“Palus Somni.” Twilight said warmly, giving him a brief nod.

“He’s huge!” Minerva whispered.

“Not as large as the mares are. Imbrium comes up to Celestia’s wing joint.” Ivy replied in a hushed tone.

“He looks like a ghost.” Hoodwink said, failing to whisper. “I can see through his wings. All the blood vessels.”

Palus Somni moved suddenly, with surprising grace and speed for a creature his size, coming up along side Hoodwink.

Hoodwink froze.

“Hi there tiny solar filly.”

Hoodwink gazed up, her hood falling back on her neck. “Hi…” She said politely.

“Somni, we really are in a bit of a hurry.” Twilight said, kicking one hindhoof into the other.

“I like foals.” Palus Somni stated suddenly. “I like the fact that they are curious and say exactly what they mean.”

Twilight began to stammer, failing to have any words come forth.

“I know you must be going Twilight Sparkle. Please, stay safe. And keep our future from harm. You go on a dangerous mission tonight.” He finished with a chuckle.

“You have pink eyes.” Hoodwink said.

“Yes I do.” Palus Somni said patiently.

Twilight Sparkle was still sputtering.

“My real name is Phantom. I cause drowsiness if I will it.”

“Somnus also means to dream,” said Minerva, “it also means death.”

“Very good little crystal filly. I am the pale horse. I am Luna’s messenger.” He said proudly.

“You deliver mail?” Ivy asked.

“No.” Palus Somni stated. “Usually I help Luna deliver dreams and I guard the realm from shades. Sometimes, Luna selects me to deliver a special message.”

The three fillies shivered suddenly as a group.

“I also make it my business to keep bumping into Twilight Sparkle, Harbinger of the Coming Evening.”

Twilight fell apart completely, totally losing her composure.

“You should be going. My Mistress will be most displeased if you are late. I bid you goodnight.” He gazed down at Hoodwink, who was still looking up at him. “Stay safe tiny solar fillies and Ivy dragon-kin.” He turned and departed, leaving three charmed fillies in his wake.

“He’s tall.” Minerva stated.

“He’s handsome.” Hoodwink added.

“He’s completely broke my teacher.” Ivy lamented, looking at Twilight.

Twilight struggled to compose herself. Her wings were partially flared, jutting upwards.

Ivy poked her. “We need to be going.” She said. “Is something wrong Twilight?”

Twilight flung her wings out, giving them a snap. She flapped them a few times before drawing them in. “Nothing is wrong. Everything is fine. What would possibly give you the idea that something is wrong? Did you see something wrong?” Twilight babbled.

“No,” offered Ivy, “nothing at all.”

The group exited the doors leading to the gardens.

Luna stood before them. There was a terrible chill in the air. Behind Luna was a terrifying chariot made of black metal, covered in spikes, made of all odd angles and jutting edges. Mare Imbrium and Mare Frigoris were chained to the chariot, wearing their armor.

Luna was a very different mare at night, Minerva reflected. She seemed serious. Composed. Her eyes were narrow, her ears perking at every noise around her. She was not the jovial princess that she had seemed to be during the day.

Brimstone stood beside her, looking impatient.

“So begins our first lesson.” Luna said, her voice shimmering velvet in the night air. “Tonight we travel near Vanhoover. For a very long time, there have been reports and sightings of ghosts. Tonight, we will investigate. I want to test your logic and your ability to reason. I want to see how you act when facing the unknown.”

“Ghosts don’t exist.” Twilight said with a snort.

“TWILIGHT SPARKLE!” Luna said in a booming voice that caused four foals to scramble for cover. “There is much you don’t know. You would do well to save yourself some embarrassment and remain silent on issues you know nothing about.”

Twilight backed away, ears down, looking apologetic.

“Forgive me Luna.” She asked.

“Forgiven.” Luna replied. “But tonight I fear that you will also be a student. I am going to introduce you to a very different world than the one you are accustomed to.”

Twilight nodded.

“Get in the chariot, the four of you. It is enchanted, you will not fall from it. We are leaving. Now move!” Luna said impatiently.

Brimstone, knowing his mother’s mercurial moods, leaped into the chariot, his hooves clattering against the metal.

He held out a hoof to the others, offering to help them up. Minerva, Hoodwink, and Ivy took turns climbing into the chariot.

“Mare Imbrium, Mare Frigoris, I require haste. I will not tolerate lax behaviour tonight.”

“Yes my Mistress.” They both replied in unison.

Luna took to the air, hovering. “Ready?” She asked the foals.

There were four nods.

The chariot rose with a lurch. Twilight took to the air rising up next to Luna.

Ivy’s tail coiled around a metal railing.

The ground was rapidly falling away from her. She was flying. An odd sensation for her.

“I’m gonna barf!” Hoodwink shouted. “I just discovered I am afraid of heights!”

“This is a lot higher than standing at the top of the Crystal Spire!” Minerva shouted over the wind.

“I feel the sudden need to pass water!” Brimstone shouted.

“What?” Ivy asked.

“He needs to pee!” Shouted Minerva.

“Correction,” Brimstone replied, “needed to pee. Now past tense.”

“Eeew!” Minerva squeaked.

“I like being scared!” Ivy shouted. “Feels good! I love being terrified!”

“You’re weird!” Minerva said.

“I’m gonna barf!” Hoodwink shouted, her cloak whipping around her.

“Keep that at present tense!” Brimstone encouraged.

“I’m flying!” Ivy said, fluttering her mismatched wings.

“I never want to fly again!” Minerva shouted.

“The fear is awful!” Ivy said. “I hope it lasts all night!”

“You’re so very weird Ivy!” Minerva said.

“We’re flying so fast that I can barely smell Brimstone!” Hoodwink said.

“We leave a malodorous wake.” Brimstone agreed.

The chariot lurched, hitting turbulence.

Hoodwink’s need to vomit became past tense as she leaned her head over the rail.

Brimstone stumbled a bit, panicking even though he knew that he couldn’t fall out. He bumped into Ivy.

“My apologies Ivy.” He offered.

Ivy found her tongue was tied in knots suddenly.

“Ivy is pulling a Twilight Sparkle!” Minerva teased.

“Am not!” Ivy managed to snap.

Hoodwink pulled her head in. “I feel better.” She said weakly. “Thankfully the wind whips the vomit away.”

“Provided one does not spew into the wind.” Brimstone stated.

Hoodwink suddenly felt queasy again.

Luna pulled ahead of them, with Imbrium and Frigoris picking up more speed to keep up. The chariot moved with terrifying speed now.

“How fast are we going?” Ivy asked.

“You don’t want to know Ivy!” Shouted Twilight over the wind.

“I kinda do, I want to be scared!” Ivy replied.

“We’ll, we will be in landing in just a few more minutes.” Twilight said. “I think.”

“We flew almost to Vanhoover already?” Hoodwink asked. “It takes almost a week to walk there with a wagon from Canterlot!”

“I smell maple syrup!” Ivy exclaimed.

The chariot began to drop, and the ground became visible rather suddenly. There were lights below. A small village nestled in the foothills, with the lights of Vanhoover visible in the distance. They circled, dropping in altitude, spiraling downward.

They landed in a wagon lot, behind a large factory. A maple syrup refinery.

The four foals exited the chariot and collapsed on the ground, with Ivy clenching and unclenching her claws into the earth.

“That was awful.” Hoodwink said.

“I liked it.” Ivy said. “But I also like having my claws on the ground again.”

“I hope it didn’t rain puke on nopony.” Minerva said, speaking her mind.

Brimstone struggled to his feet.

He closed his eyes and stood there, thankful to be back on solid ground. He felt a nose pressed against his neck. He opened his eyes and saw Ivy.

“You smell good.” Ivy explained.

Brimstone rolled his eyes.

Minerva and Hoodwink giggled.

“Listen up.” Luna said, carefully folding her wings. “We will be walking along a trail where ponies claim to see these ghosts. It is dark. I want us to stay together. Imbrium and Frigoris will be staying here with the chariot. They will not be aiding us. If you want light, you must make it your selves. Twilight and I will not assist you, unless absolutely necessary.”

Hoodwink’s horn sparked weakly, a faint orange glow coming from the tip. “For you, Minerva.”

“The wagon lot has some magical light globes. When we leave the lot, it will become very, very dark. We are far from the city.” Twilight said.

Minerva strained, struggled, and finally produced a faint silver glow.

“We are leaving.” Luna stated. She began to move toward the edge of the lot where there was a break in the trees.

The foals followed her, with Twilight bringing up the rear.

As Luna had warned, it was dark. Very dark. After leaving the lot, they began to climb up the wooded hill. Very little moonlight made it through the thick growth of trees.

It wasn’t long before Minerva’s light failed.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, “I can’t help it.” She sounded as though she was on the verge of panic.

Hoodwink struggled to make her light brighter. She growled, she fussed, and gritted her teeth. Her horn flared orange and more light shone forth.

“Stay close to me Minerva.” Ivy offered.

In seconds, Ivy could feel Minerva plastered to her side.

The students moved through the wood, trying to follow Luna, who was difficult to see in the dark.

“I wish I was in the trees.” Ivy said. “I feel very… I don’t know the word.”

“Vulnerable?” Brimstone offered. “Means exposed to danger.”

“Yeah that!” Ivy agreed. “Trees are comforting. I understand trees.”

The trail was long and winding, and the night was dark and full of sounds. The foals cried out when something made a noise or a branch crackled under hoof.

“Stop!” Luna commanded. “Look ahead.”

Four foals and Twilight craned their heads, straining to see. There was a faint glow ahead. Something moved, the glow flickering and bouncing.

A pegasus stepped into view. Well, something like a pegasus Ivy thought. She could see through it. It glowed ahead of them, transparent, watching them.

Minerva screamed and flung her forelegs around Ivy’s neck.

“This is impossible!” Twilight said. “There has to be some sort of explanation for this. Magical projection. Something.”

The ghostly figure watched them.

“It is sad.” Ivy said. “Look at its ears.”

The spectre turned and began to walk slowly up the hill, off of the path, walking through the thickets and growth.

“Move.” Luna said, moving forward.

The foals struggled through the thicket, with Luna leading the way.

“Ow!” Minerva hissed.

“My cloak!” Hoodwink complained.

When Hoodwink became stuck, Twilight gently lifted her out with her magic.

Eventually they reached more open ground. The ghostly figure moved forward, up the hill, tireless, never slowing.

“What do we have here?” Luna asked as the trees began to clear.

The ghostly figure vanished into a cave.

Hoodwink moved forward, curious, stepping past Luna, and with a sudden cry, her light died. It became very dark.

“I can’t use my magic!” Hoodwink cried.

“I can’t either.” Twilight said in alarm.

Luna backed away from the cave, slowly moving back, a concerned look upon her face. Finally, her horn exploded with light, banishing the darkness. She took a few steps forward and the light faded, plunging them back into darkness.

“Peculiar.” Luna muttered.

“What do we do?” Luna asked the foals.

“You are our teacher.” Minerva responded. “Shouldn’t you be telling us what to do?”

“No.” Luna said.

“We need a light.” Brimstone said. “But magic doesn’t work.”

“You will encounter this occasionally.” Luna said. “Best to find ways to deal with this now.”

“I’m really scared.” Minerva whimpered. “I feel like I am going to faint. I’m having trouble breathing.” She said breathlessly.

“I have an idea.” Ivy said. “But I need some light. I need to find a good solid tree branch.”

Hoodwink backed away from the cave until once again her horn flared light, the others gathering around her. The foals moved about as a group.

“Will this work?” Brimstone asked, kicking a large branch.

“Perfect.” Ivy said. She picked it up in her talons and gave it a heft. She set it back down and turned herself around.

“What are you doing?” Minerva asked.

“I am going to pee on the stick.” Ivy said.

“Oh gross, how does that help us?” Hoodwink demanded.

“My pee burns really well. Leftover dragon juice from inside my body goes into my pee. Makes plants grow too. It’s kinda sticky. And it smells really good when it burns!” Ivy exclaimed.

Ivy squatted, causing the others to turn around.

“Something tells me this is not entirely proper.” Brimstone stated. “I shouldn’t be present when a filly passes water.” He raised his voice over the sounds of flowing urine. “This is an assault upon my sensibilities.”

“You peed in the chariot!” Minerva chided.

“That was accidental!” Brimstone retorted.

Ivy held up the branch with her tail, and strained, her muzzle contorting. She angled her backside upward, hoping that she didn’t set the wood on fire. She farted a massive fiery blast as her companions watched in horror.

The branch ignited.

“You lied Ivy!” Minerva said in a strangled voice, covering her nose with a folded foreleg.

“What?” Ivy said, suddenly worried.

“Smells horrible!” Hoodwink said. “Your pee smells awful when it burns! It’s burning my eyes!”

Ivy stood with the burning branch held in her tail, the flames glowing a strange pinkish orange. “I don’t smell anything bad.” Ivy protested.

“You like the way Brimstone smells!” Minerva said, gagging.

“We have light now. Brimstone said. And the fuel is burning. We should see what is in the cave and get to the bottom of all this.”

“Ivy’s bottom is full of horror.” Minerva grumbled.

“Hush you!” Ivy hissed, holding back a giggle.

Ivy slunk towards the cave, Luna at her side.

“Ivy.” Luna said.

“Yes Luna?” Ivy replied.

“You did a very good job.” Luna returned.

“Thank you Luna.” Ivy said, entering the cave.

The torch light flickered on the walls as the group entered the cave. They went in two by two. Ivy and Luna, Hoodwink and Minerva, with Brimstone and Twilight bringing up the rear. Ivy’s claws clicked on the stone while the hooves of the group clopped. Ivy rose up on her haunches, trying to peer ahead into the darkness. She felt a tingle of fear. She rose from her haunches and began to walk forward in a bipedal stance, her tail holding the torch and balancing her body as she walked on two legs. He held her talons in front of her at the ready.

“I didn’t know you could walk on two legs.” Minerva said behind her.

“I can.” Ivy answered. “Comes in handy sometimes. I can bring my mama breakfast in bed, carrying a tray in my talons. No magic needed.”

They rounded a curve in the passage.

“While your claws are very useful, what use are they against an apparition?” Brimstone questioned.

“A what?” Hoodwink asked.

“A ghost.” Luna said.

“I dunno.” Ivy said. “My claws can cut through almost anything if I focus my will and put some pressure behind them. Anything I can bite through I can claw through. I haven’t tried biting or clawing a ghost.”

“You can claw through metal?” Brimstone asked, his voice suddenly curious as they moved through the dark.

“Easily.” Twilight replied. “Her teeth and claws are made from a similar substance. I don’t know what it is. Her claws are mostly harmless unless she’s actively trying to rip through something. Ivy scratches my back all the time. And I’m fine.”

Ivy beamed in the dark.

“How is this possible?” Brimstone asked.

“I don’t know.” Twilight replied. “But if you want to be Ivy’s special friend, try offering her a couple of silver spoons and apple butter.”

“Spoons?” Brimstone questioned.

“She’ll eat the spoons.” Twilight replied, causing Ivy to giggle ahead.

Brimstone was thankful for a darkness as a flush rose on his cheeks. “Special friend?” He said in a low whisper.

Twilight chuckled softly as they continued ahead.

There was a glow ahead. Ivy flexed her talons. She doubted she could hurt anything, she didn’t want to hurt anything, but it made her feel better. The glow grew brighter as she approached.

As they rounded a corner, they saw two spectral pegasi, both looking at them. One had a strange silver strand extending from his body, connecting to what appeared to be a ribcage on the floor. Lodged in the ribcage was a hideous looking spearhead. Luna made a sad sound.

The chamber was wide. One of the spectral pegasi approached them, a pleading look on its face.

“She’s a mare.” Hoodwink said.

Twilight moved forward and extended a hoof to touch the spearhead in the ribcage.

“Twilight NO!” Luna cried.

Too late, there was a painful flash of light and a loud crack. Twilight cried out, backing away, limping.

Ivy held up her torch, trying to let her eyes readjust.

Twilight’s leg was burned and blackened, with oozing blisters rising up from her hoof, almost reaching her joint.

The foals said nothing, faces contorted with fear and shock from the bright flash of light.

“Pig iron.” Luna said. “Chaos metal. Bane of our kind.”

“What is it?” Minerva finally said.

“Pig iron radiates an anti magic field. And it burns harmonious creatures, like ponies,” Luna paused. “Poor things. One was stabbed. The other brought it here and probably tried to pull it out with her teeth. I can’t even begin to imagine the agony.”

“I can!” Twilight hissed. “I can imagine it very well!”

“The war pigs were terrible foes.” Luna said. “They made war for the sake of war. It was all they knew.”

“What’s a war pig?” Hoodwink asked.

“A creature sort of like a minotaur. Or a diamond dog.” Luna replied. “Only piggish. Smart. Cunning. Violent. Deadly foes. At one point, they very nearly extinguished ponykind. It was very difficult to put an end to them. To kill them all. And to destroy their terrible weapons. Hard to do without magic. We had to make allies. Some dragons helped us. The pig iron was destroyed with powerful dragonfire.”

Luna paused.

“Ivy, go pull out that spearhead.” Luna asked.

“Ivy, no!” Twilight said, limping in front of her student.

“Twilight, be at ease. Ivy isn’t like is. She is not a harmonious creature. She is a chaotic entity.” Luna soothed. “I give you my word that Ivy will be fine.”

Ivy crept forward cautiously, staring at the troublesome metal. The ghostly pegasi watched her, hopeful expressions on their faces.

Ivy extended a trembling claw. She looked back toward Twilight, seeing Twilight’s leg in the torchlight. It looked awful. Tears rolled down Twilight’s cheeks, even though Twilight said nothing. It had to be agonising. Ivy looked to Luna.

“Ivy please, I would never lead you astray over a matter such as this one.” Luna said, her tone gentle yet commanding.

Ivy stretched out her claw and touched the metal.

Nothing happened.

Twilight began to cry with relief.

Ivy gently took the old dusty bones in one set of talons and the spearhead in the other. She pulled. There was a screech of metal against bone.

Ivy turned and saw her fellow students looking at her.

The silver strand connecting the spectral pegasus popped out of existence as the spearhead was pulled free.

The two ghostly ponies began to dance in the cavern, glowing brighter and brighter, dancing and prancing around one another. After a moment of celebration, they approached Luna.

They bowed before her, kneeling down, wings extended.

“Go! Go find peace my subjects. Leave this realm. Your time here is over. Begone!” Luna commanded. “GET THEE HENCE!” She said in a voice that echoed through the cave and assaulted the ears of the living.

The two spectral ponies rose, backing away from Luna. They approached Ivy, pausing. After a moment, they kneeled before her. They rose together. The female of the pair moved forward, gently extending a hoof. She looked sad when she realised that Ivy could not be touched.

“GO TO SLEEP!” Luna rumbled.

The ghosts looked at her one last time and then faded from existence.

“Where do we go when we die?” Minerva asked in a small voice.

“Nopony knows.” Luna said. “Lots of ponies try to sell some idea of what might be. But nopony knows. And nopony has a right to say.”

“Are they happy now?” Minerva said in a pleading tone.

“Seems so.” Luna responded. “The female refused to leave. The male was probably her mate. She waited for him for a very long time. Where ever it was they went, they wanted to go together.”

“How long was she waiting?” Hoodwink asked.

“I don’t know.” Luna said. “A very long time. Trying to get somepony to follow her, hoping to be free.”

Minerva began to sob, leaning against Hoodwink.

“There is still that horrible spearhead.” Brimstone said.

“Yes,” agreed Luna, “we must dispose of it somehow.”

“Could Ivy eat it?” Brimstone asked.

“Brimstone, no!” Twilight said.

Brimstone slumped.

“Too dangerous." Twilight said. “We don’t know what it might do.”

Luna stood thoughtful.

“Ivy, I do not think you will be harmed if you ate that. You could do all of us a great service if you destroyed that horrible thing. It was forged in the depths of the Black Realms. It is a troublesome artifact.”

“Luna…” Twilight pleaded.

“I am confident.” Luna said. “We can’t take it with us. We can’t leave it here. It must be destroyed somehow. Ivy is not a harmonious creature. The metal should have no effect upon her. For her, it is just iron.”

“Smells funny.” Ivy said, sniffing it. “Never smelled metal like this before. Smells like iron, but not iron.”

Twilight agonised over her thoughts.

“Ivy, I will not force you to do it. I have asked you, but the choice is yours. It is the manifestation of our nightmares, that metal. Do what you think is right.” Luna said.

“Ivy, no.” Twilight said. “I know it needs to be destroyed, but I can’t risk you being hurt or sickened. Or killed. We don’t know what it will do.” Twilight limped forward.

Ivy considered the black metal in her claws. It was heavy. Cold. And it smelled funny.

She looked at her fellow students. “What should I do?” She asked them.

Brimstone raised his head, but said nothing. Minerva continued to sob. Hoodwink stood there looking baffled.

“It must be destroyed Ivy.” Brimstone said. “And I trust my mother. I am positive she has weighed this issue in her mind and assessed the risks. If she believed it was folly, she would have stated so.”

“Brimstone sounds smart.” Hoodwink said helpfully.

Minerva could only nod.

“That settles things then.” Ivy stated. “I am going to trust in my companions.”

She raised the iron to her mouth. Twilight let out a choked sob.

Ivy bit down on the tip, breaking off a small piece. She chewed thoughtfully. “Tastes funny. Stale. Like bread that’s too old. And it fizzes and pops. Like Pinkie Pie’s fizzy candy that sizzles on your tongue.” She took another bite. “And it is really chewy for iron. Usually iron is brittle.” She crunched up a few more bites until the iron was gone. She belched, letting out a cloud of foul smelling smoke that made the eyes of every pony in the cavern burn.

After a few moments, Luna’s horn flared to life.

Luna wrapped a foreleg around Twilight, trying to comfort her. “You are never wrong to want to keep your student safe.” She whispered.

“We have a long walk back to the chariot.” Brimstone announced. “I believe we are done here. I know that I have learned a great deal this night.”

Ivy noticed that the rib cage had crumbled into dust.

“Thank you Ivy.” Hoodwink said, her own horn flaring to life.

Minerva nodded, sniffling. She ran forward suddenly and hugged Ivy, nearly knocking her over.

“I am very proud of all of you.” Twilight finally managed to say. “You trusted in one another. That is probably the most important lesson learned here this night. I had to trust as well, and it was very difficult for me.” Twilight drew a shuddering breath.

“You all did very well during your first lesson. You arose above my expectations and handled yourselves in a manner befitting your status. I am proud.” Luna said.

Sushi Interlude

Four lunar pegasi sat around a table, on cushions, eating sushi at Blackbeak’s Sushi Stop. The large brutish creatures were eating and laughing together, almost alone as it approached midnight. Blackbeak kept the place open late, just for customers like these.

Mare Imbrium, also known as Nightfisher, was gobbling down rolls of raw fish, stabbing them with a fork held in between her grasping digit and the central knuckle of her wing.

Mare Frigoris, also known as Hailstone, was trying to pick the bits of seaweed from her meal, her face contorted with disgust.

Palus Somni, also known as Phantom, was watching Hailstone and laughing. His mark was a swirling black void.

And there was Mare Nectaris, also known as The Grape Ghost, also known by her mother as Moonshine, which everypony agreed was a terrible irony, given Moonshine’s proclivities. Her mortal enemy was the grape, and it was a worthy foe. She had already finished her meal, and was now guzzling down mug after mug of apple brandy, with seemingly no effect upon her state of being. Her mark was a tipped over bottle and an empty wine glass.

Moonshine slammed down her mug and belched. “Stupid Collective,” she barked, “those protests have caused the workers to go on strike in Baltimare.” She threw her head back and belched again, blowing out a foul smelling cloud that reeked of booze.

“Calm your teats!” Phantom replied. “We’re all angry. No sense shouting about it.”

“You mark my words, there is going to be trouble.” Hailstone added.

“There’s already trouble. Twilight received an anonymous death threat.” Nightfisher said, grunting. “The death threat itself was lethal. Poison ink that explodes into a cloud of gas upon contact with magic such as levitation. In front of a reading Twilight, that’s dangerous.”

“What?” Phantom said, worry in his voice.

“Twilight is a remarkably quick pony. She teleported her self away the moment she saw the poof.” Nightfisher said around a mouthful of fish.

Phantom growled, a horrible sound, like two wagons full of rocks falling down a hill.

“We don’t even know who the Collective is.” Hailstone snorted. “They put out fliers, get ponies riled up, ponies riot and protest hoping the Collective will notice them, and the Collective itself never shows who they are.”

“Perfect crime.” Nightfisher commented.

Phantom looked sick with worry.

“Twilight is a clever pony, Phantom.” Nightfisher said, poking him with her wing. “She’s survived several assassination attempts so far, and done each escape with remarkable grace and aplomb.”

“Poor lovesick Phantom.” Moonshine said, taking a swallow.

“Be nice Grape Ghost.” Hailstone said. “He’s hurt.”

“Yeah, I know, but I have to rib him just a little bit.” Moonshine looked somewhat apologetic. “I’ve proven that I have his back. Plus, I share my drinks with him. How many ponies can say I do that for them?”

“I want to tear off somepony’s head and rut their neck hole.” Phantom seethed.

“Yikes, Phantom.” Nightfisher said, cringing away.

“You don’t mean that.” Hailstone said in an oddly gentle voice.

“Yes. I do.” Phantom shot Hailstone a black look.

“Don’t you look at me like that.” Hailstone said, the room suddenly growing colder. “I’m your friend. I deserve better you dimwitted spook.”

Phantom slumped. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“You are Luna’s assassin. You really need to watch what you say. Stay professional. Never take on a target for personal reasons.” Nightfisher chided.

Phantom looked away in shame.

Moonshine reached out a hoof and placed it on Phantom’s shoulder. “You really like her, don’t you. Does she know it?”

“I do not know.” Said Phantom, suddenly becoming his cultured and charming self again. “She has trouble speaking to me beyond a basic hello.”

Nightfisher snorted.

“Oh, you’re one to talk.” Hailstone said. “You and Sunflower have been prancing around one another for how long?”

“Leave Sunflower out of this!” Nightfisher snapped.

“Nightfisher loves a solar pony.” Moonshine teased.

“So what if I do.” Nightfisher grumbled.

“Nothing wrong with that.” Said Phantom. “These two are jealous because they can’t find somebody to brood over.”

“Why do we brood?” Moonshine said.

“It is what we do. We sit in high places and brood. It is our nature. Why fight it?” Phantom asked.

“I bet you’d like to brood with Twilight.” Moonshine teased.

“Sunflower is learning how to properly brood.” Nightfisher said.

Phantom smiled weakly. “I bet Twilight could brood. She’s not the sort to fill the air with useless chatter.”

“Screw brooding. I can do that at any time. I want noise. I want angry grunting. I want hot sweaty sloppy rut…”

“WOAH GIRL!” Moonshine interrupted, breaking into Hailstone’s tirade. “We ALL know what you want. We just don’t know how to give it to you.” Moonshine paused. “I’m tempted to give you a roll in the hay my self but I am afraid it would be like licking a flagpole and getting your tongue stuck to it.”

“I’m not sure if I’m into mares. I do know that I’m desperate.” Hailstone said with brutal honesty.

“Does licking a frozen pole really cause your tongue to freeze and stick to it?” Nightfisher asked.

“YES!” Hailstone bellowed, cringing.

“I don’t want to know, do I?” Nightfisher said.

Phantom shuddered in disgust.

“You!” Hailstone hissed. “You know! Don’t you! Luna swore she’d never tell!”

Phantom nodded slightly.

Hailstone snorted loudly but said nothing.

“Oh, this must be good.” Moonshine said.

Phantom shook his head no.

“She swore she wouldn’t tell!” Hailstone cried.

“Luna didn’t tell.” Phantom admitted.

“What?” Hailstone said in shock.

“I was, uh, doing my job. Hanging around the castle. Making sure nopony was spying.” Phantom said, cringing.

“Oh you dirty little spy!” Hailstone said.

Moonshine snorted with laughter and took another drink, waving for another round.

“I think I’m going to put in a transfer.” Phantom said, his voice cracking slightly from strain.

“We’re spooks. We don’t transfer.” Nightfisher said.

“Twilight needs a guard.”

“Twilight doesn’t want guards.”

“Twilight is confused and doesn’t know what she needs.” Phantom said bluntly.

“Do you really believe that?” Hailstone asked.

Phantom didn’t reply.

“Twilight wants to be approachable. She calls her self the ponies’ princess for a reason.” Moonshine said. “And I respect that.”

“She worked as a school teacher for a couple of years.” Nightfisher added. “Doesn’t get more approachable than having foals wipe their noses on you and going home each day covered in chalk dust and glitter glue.”

“And that’s only a small part of why she’s so wonderful.” Phantom said, longing in his voice.

Moonshine slid Phantom a fresh drink. “You sound like you have it bad my friend.”

“We are spooks.” Nightfisher said. “Ponies of the night. We work in shadow in the same way artists work in watercolours.” She took a deep breath. “Surely we can find some way to bring Sleepyhead and the Egghead together.”

“Stay out of it.” Phantom begged. “Twilight has enough trouble. I’m content to occasionally just say hello.”

“We’re nosy mares. We are not content to watch you suffer.” Hailstone said.

“Even princesses deserve to be happy, should they desire it. Looking at Shining Armor and Cadance.”

“Besides, Phantom. You trained under Shining Armor. Maybe he could help you?” Moonshine grinned from ear to ear.

“You want me to ask my teacher about dating his baby sister? Please, Moonshine, go and plant me in a shallow grave in the badlands right now, and let’s get this over with.” Phantom said.

“Just show me where to dig. You’ve planted more bodies there than I have.” Moonshine snorted.

“Quiet!” Nightfisher hissed. “Some things shouldn’t be made light of.”

Hailstone sniffed. “Practice necromancy or do bad things to foals and you get a shallow grave. The public really should know about it. Ponies should know what they are in for.”

“If I can find an actual member of the Collective he’s going into a grave.” Phantom growled.

“After Luna gets done pulling everything she needs to know from their dreams” Nightfisher corrected.

“I’m not convinced there is a Collective.” Moonside said.

Her companions groaned.

“Hear me out!” She said, swallowing her drink. “What if it started with just one pony printing those fliers, something like a prank. And other unicorns are dumb enough to believe that some secret agency is watching them, so they print more fliers and stage protests, and then other unicorns, seeing the previous protests and fliers, print more fliers and stage more protests, causing it to spread. But what if there is no actual Collective?”

“Mare Nectaris, you are utterly brilliant when you are drunk.” Nightfisher said.

“Are you teasing me?” Moonshine asked. “I’m not drunk. Nowhere near drunk.”

“No. For once. I think there might be some possible truth to what you say. I do believe in the Collective. But I also think you are right. I think they’ve stepped in once or twice and then stepped back to allow unicorns to do their dirty work for them. They probably know we monitor dreams and have a vast network of intelligence. Sticking their neck out would be risky. We’ve caught plenty of small time agitators but nopony of actual importance. Just ponies wanting to catch the eye of the Collective. And we bring them in. And then Collective slips out propaganda about ponies being snatched in the night and disappearing.”

“Chilling.” Said Hailstone.

Phantom rolled his eyes at Hailstone and shoved her with his hoof.

“I think we’re in trouble.” Nightfisher said. “We have an enemy that we can’t see or touch, but they can manipulate us from a distance. Not a good situation.”

Twilight In the Library

“A haunted library?” Minerva whined. “More dark and spooky for us. I don’t like it.”

Brimstone shrugged and kept eating, stuffing his face back into his salad bowl, while still trying to be well mannered and refined.

“Well, we know ghosts are real. We’ve seen them. I’m not so sure what’s so bad about a haunted library though.“ Hoodwink said, trying to levitate a spoonful of soup.

“We’ve only been home one day, and I’m still tired. My sleep is all messed up.” Minerva stuffed a roll into her mouth and chewed halfheartedly.

“I think that it is intentional.” Brimstone said, lifting his head, salad dribbling from his chin. “I suspect that our teachers want to see how we perform under pressure and less than perfect conditions, to see where we make mistakes, so they can get a better idea of how to shore up our weaknesses.”

“Huh?” Said Hoodwink, yawning.

Ivy said nothing but kept eating. Her tail extended a napkin to Brimstone, who took it and nodded in thanks.

“Ivy, you’re awfully quiet. You OK after eating that weird metal?” Hoodwink asked.

“I’m fine. Just tired. Been really tough the past few days.” Ivy paused. “And I miss my family.”

“I miss my mom.” Hoodwink agreed.

“I miss all of my family. I don’t know if they miss me.” Minerva said.

“What an awful thing to say.” Hoodwink said.

“I’m sorry Winkie, but you don’t know them. I know they love me, but they get involved in their pet projects and I’m forgotten for days at a time. My nanny has to look after me. Well, she was my nanny. I’m gone now. I bet they let her go.” Minerva poked at her plate with a hoof.

Hoodwink fell silent and ate her food.

“My mother sometimes disappears for days.” Brimstone said.

“And now you are going on adventures with her.” Minerva replied.

Brimstone buried his muzzle into his soup and began to slurp.

The companions fell silent, trying to eat, each reflecting on their thoughts and their growing fatigue. Luna and Twilight had heaped praise upon them, and Celestia had heard a glowing report about their first lesson. Brimstone had discovered upon his return that he had been moved out of his mother’s quarters and had a private room near the fillies, a tiny student cubby made for one. It had been an awkward moment for him.

The events of tonight loomed before them. They were returning to Vanhoover, into the city proper this time. There was a haunted library. The details were non existent, there was simply an appeal for aid from the librarians, who claimed their library was haunted.

Vanhoover, the city of gaslight. Equestria’s maple syrup provider. Along with syrup, there were also distilleries that made maple whiskey, maple sugar, and all manner of maple goodness. It was also the region of Equestria that grew the most potatoes, rivaling Ponyville’s apple production.

But they weren’t going to see the gaslights. Or try the maple syrup. Or eat potatoes. No, they were going to visit a haunted library and try to get down to the bottom of whatever was going on there.

Brimstone raised his head from his soup, muzzle dripping. “I really want to go back to bed. My mother is going to have Celestia lecture me if I screw up tonight.” He said, a fearful tone in his voice. “Celestia’s lectures are awful. I’d rather go to the moon.” He said, slumping.

Ivy’s tail snatched up a napkin and wiped Brimstone’s face. He waved a hoof at the annoying appendage as it squeezed his nose.

“That was my napkin.” Minerva said.

“Sorry,” said Ivy, “I wasn’t even aware it was happening until afterwards.”

“We’re totally horned.” Brimstone muttered.

“Brimstone! Your mouth! Fillies are present!” Minerva scolded. “What happened to the refined and cultured colt I know?”

Hoodwink stared at the door, saying nothing. Three heads turned in silence to see what Hoodwink was looking at.

Luna stood in the door.

“Oh, I am so horned right now. So very horned.” Brimstone said. “No point holding back now, I’m dead anyway.”

Luna stared at her colt a a moment, and then entered the room, looking at each of them in turn. “You all seem tired.” She stated.

There was a series of nods.

“Such a pity.” Luna said. “I expect the very best from you tonight.”

“We’ll manage.” Ivy said, confidence in her voice. “I’m sure we will make plenty of mistakes for us to learn from.”

Luna looked at Ivy strangely and then nodded. She turned her head towards Brimstone. “By the way, Brimstone, I am very disappointed in you.”

Brimstone slouched down low on his cushion.

“I was fatigued and I misbehaved.” He said. “It does not excuse my behaviour but I offer it as an explanation.”

“If you impress me tonight, I will allow you time to recuperate, rest, and write letters home to family and friends. If you arouse my ire, you will not like the consequences. Am I clear?” Luna looked at her students, her eyes narrowed, her ears forward. “You impressed me a great deal last night. All of you. I want to make sure that it was not a fluke.”

Luna turned and began to leave the room. She paused as the door. “We will be leaving shortly. Twilight will be by soon to collect you. Prepare yourselves.

It wasn’t long until Twilight arrived. All four foals were waiting in the hall near their rooms, sitting on a sofa and a chair in a small study nook. Hoodwink had her cloak. They were all yawning. All of them seemed miserable.

“Come on, all of you. Time to go.” Twilight said, coaxing them into action.

They fell in behind her for the long walk from the school wing to the castle proper, and then to the garden exit, where there would be a chariot awaiting them.

They walked in silence through mostly empty corridors, guards occasionally saluting them as they passed. A group of maids paused in their work cleaning the floors as they continued ever onward.

Twilight couldn’t help but notice that little hooves were dragging. She remembered her own time in school, going through something remarkably similar to this. “My faithful students.” She said, addressing the foals following her. “If you can make it through this night and do your best, I will personally take you all out to Pony Joes for all of the donuts you can eat.”

“Are you sure about that Twilight?” Ivy asked. “I can eat a lot of donuts.”

“I’m positive.” Twilight assured.

Ivy picked up her pace.

It wasn’t long before they reached the garden exit and strode out into the garden.

The chariot ride was long and bumpy. There were high winds this night, and a great deal of turbulence. Two male lunar pegasi pulled the chariot tonight. They did their job wordlessly, slamming their bodies forward through the wind, towing the chariot along through the air. Luna flew ahead of them, her head low and nose forward into the whipping wind.

Twilight was in the chariot with them, trying to comfort them in the bitter cold. They huddled around her for warmth.

It was a miserable ride that ended in rain. A drenching rain and freezing fog hung over the city of Vanhoover. The foals were thoroughly miserable.

They stood in the alcove of a library, staring at the doors of the library proper. The doors were locked. A librarian had given them a key, and then hastily departed, begging them to not open the doors until he had left.

Luna dried them, casting a quick and simple spell. It lifted the foal’s spirits slightly. None of them knew what to expect beyond the doors.

Twilight moved forward with the key held in her magic. She unlocked the doors and entered.

Twilight’s mouth hung open.

In the center of the room was a tornado of books, swirling and spiraling around.

“Would that be a vortext?” Brimstone said in a very low voice.

“Brimstone!” Luna hissed. “For shame. I raised you better.”

Brimstone hung his head.

Twilight strode forward. “What is going on here?” she said. “This is a library. A place of learning. Whatever is causing this, I demand that it stops right now!”

A large tome flew out of the tornado of books and slammed into Twilight’s backside, nearly knocking her from her hooves. Twilight stood there, silent, one eye twitching alarmingly, her wings fluttering. A hoof stomped.

“Mother,” said Brimstone, “I believe you prevaricated.”

“I did what?” asked Luna, surprised.

“You assured me that words could not hurt me.” Brimstone said in a matter of fact tone.

“Silence Brimstone!” Luna commanded.

Minerva walked forward cautiously, taking in what she saw, not sure if she could believe what she was seeing.

A book flew out from behind a bookcase stealthily, the flat part of the cover striking her backside.

Minerva let out a very unladylike yelp and stood there, tears flooding her eyes, trying to regain her composure. “My bottom…” She whimpered.

The book flew away to join the others.

Brimstone strode forward. “Try that again you pulp trash clop novel!” He shouted.

Several books took offense and swooped. Brimstone stood his ground.

He stomped and kicked at the books as they flew in, but one flew past his defenses, striking him in the head and knocking him to the floor.

“Get up.” Luna said, her tone cold. “Do not make noble gestures unless you are willing to pay a pound of flesh for them.” She ducked as a book swooped past her head.

Brimstone struggled, his legs kicking, flailing around on the floor. He finally managed to get his hooves under him. Minerva helped him up, ducking as a book buzzed her head.

“Good Brimstone.” Luna said, her voice warming slightly.

“Where is Ivy?” Hoodwink shrieked.

“Quick lesson,” said Luna, several books bouncing off of an invisible shield, “when looking for Ivy, always look up first, and then check the ground second.”

She turned on the tornado of books with an annoyed glance. Twilight’s magical shield was getting pounded on all sides.

There was a loud thump somewhere above them followed by an angry sounding growl.

Ivy’s head hung down from the top of a massive bookshelf. “They keep trying to spank my bottom!” She snapped. “Good thing my bottom is covered in metal.”

“Mine isn’t.” Minerva said, tears still in her eyes. “I won’t be able to sit down for a week.”

Hoodwink was dodging the incoming books. “Ivy, help me!” Keep them off of me for a moment.”

Ivy scurried down from the bookcase and stood near Hoodwink. When a book came near, she whipped her tail around and spanked the book before it could spank her.

Hoodwink’s horn glowed orange.

Nearby, a study table began to wobble and shake. After a moment, it lumbered forward. Hoodwink took refuge under the table as it trundled forward toward the whirling storm of books. “I need a distraction!” She shouted.

Minerva broke from the group, rushing to the edge of the room where there was a door. She touched her horn to the door frame and then pushed the door open. She entered the door…

And exited on the other side of the room, on the other side of the whirling book storm. Several books dove for her. She retreated through the door and emerged elsewhere, causing the books to halt in midair, trying to find the vanishing filly.

Books swooped down and thumped the table, causing Hoodwink to shout with alarm. She cowered under the slow moving table, reaching the center of the room. The books came at her in a storm of fluttering and flapping pages.

Minerva had a huge flock of books trying to catch her as she danced between doorways, bouncing all over the room.

Ivy was back up on top of the bookshelves again, leaping from shelftop to shelftop, trying to figure out what was causing this mess. Beneath her, Brimstone moved with her, looking upward, following her lead. “What is the plan Ivy?” He asked, watching for books.

“Try to find whatever is causing this. A ghost?” Ivy returned.

A book slammed into Brimstone’s backside. He paused in place.

“A veritable symphony of tactile stimulation.” He announced, the side of his face twitching in a manner similar to Twilight. “Male offspring of a female diamond dog.”

“What?” Asked Ivy.

Brimstone did not reply, but resumed moving.

Ivy’s tail whipped out a supersonic crack as one of the perverse books tried to paddle her backside. The book fell to the floor, stunned. “Thanks Ivy’s tail!” Ivy shouted.

They both drew near the book storm. Brimstone rushed forward through the swirling books and took refuge with Hoodwink under the table.

He carefully peered outward and upward, ducking his head back under as a book drew near.

Ivy’s tail cracked again, another book dropping to the floor.

Twilight looked very, very disturbed.

“A library is a place of order.” She said, her voice odd and wavering. “It is a bastion of calm. A place of soothing quiet for the introverted and the intellectual.” The side of her face twitched, the corner of her eye jittering up and down.

The constant stream of books shattered her shield finally, or Twilight’s concentration broke… Either way, the consequences were the same. A book whompled Twilight’s backside. Twilight shrieked in anger, raising her shield anew. “My plot!” She cried.

Ivy realised that a moment of sacrifice was at hand. “Let them come.” She said to her tail.

Ivy leapt from the bookshelf and landed on the table, causing Hoodwink to shriek. The swirling books all swooped in unison, raising up to attack the brazen invader. As she lept, she saw something that looked like a nest in the lights hanging from the ceiling.

Ivy raised her armored backside up high. “DO YOUR WORST!” She challenged. The books swarmed down in a stream to give her the paddling of a lifetime.

“There’s something that looks like a nest in the lights near the ceiling!” Ivy shouted as the books descended.

The first book struck Ivy’s backside with a deafening “WHOMP!” sound. “That all you got?” Ivy demanded as the book bounced away, stunned, falling on to the table.

A very large genealogy codex broke off from chasing Minerva and zoomed toward its fallen brethren. It was as large as a foal and over a foot and a half thick.

Ivy sank her talons and claws into the table and braced herself.

There was a thunderous crack as the flat of the book collided with Ivy’s backside. It actually hurt. A fat tear formed in Ivy’s eye and rolled down her cheek. It had nearly ripped her from the table.

“None of us can reach the light fixture!” Minerva cried.

“I see it.” Luna said, taking to the air. No books followed her. It seemed that the books prefered the challenge of assaulting Ivy’s armored backside.

A stream of books slammed into Ivy’s bottom in rapid fire, each one slamming and falling away in rapid succession. It was really starting to sting back there. Scales were falling away.

Luna examined what appeared to be a nest. It was, in fact, a nest. Something swooped near her and screeched.

It was a fluttering flapping book with the head of an owl and two owl legs protruding from the bottom. It flew near Luna, trying to drive her away from the nest.

Ivy yowled as the books were wearing down her armor plating and finding tender flesh. Minerva ran from the cover of the doorways towards her suffering friend. “I’m coming Ivy!”

Brimstone came out from under the table and leapt up onto the table. “Plant our plots together!” He shouted. Minerva jumped up onto the table, her hooves clattering, trying to avoid books. One eluded her kicks and slammed into her already stinging backside. “Oh, oh, I wish I knew swear words!” She stammered, tears streaming from her eyes.”

One book took a cheap shot at Brimstone’s head and nearly knocked him from the table. “Illegitimate offspring!” Brimstone swore as he backed his backside against Ivy. Minerva joined in and Hoodwink shot out from under the table. She blew a raspberry at the books and jumped up on top of the table with friends, squeezing her self in.

“I ain’t gonna poop right for a week!” Ivy said, slipping into an Apple family drawl.

“I know the feeling” Minerva said.

Luna glared at the troublesome book owl. It fluttered around her head trying to protect its nest, its book cover wings and pages flapping wildly.

“There will be order!” Twilight shouted. “Chaos is not accepted in the library!” She cried, her mental state slipping further. “Everypony must behave, even the books!”

The books circled the foals, trying to take cheap shots at their heads. Brimstone reared up and kicked a book away that nearly struck Hoodwink.

A book became wedged in Ivy’s antlers. She shrieked in alarm. She shook the book free after a few tries.

“Can you be reasoned with?” Luna asked the book owl.

The owl screeched and fluttered, irate and unreasonable.

Luna felt a moment of seething rage as a stray book struck her royal bottom. She held her reaction in check, but only just barely. It felt like the moon had new craters.

She hovered, unsure of what to do. The book owl was something she had never seen or heard of. It was a unique creature. Or at least very rare. It had a nest. And in the nest, there were eggs. Future young.

“Books must behave!” Twilight shouted. “Books are objects of reason!”

“We seemed to have disturbed you owl.” Luna said, feeling a twinge of pity mixed with rage as her bottom stung.

Luna’s horn flared.

And everypony found themselves back in the alcove, the doors shut.

“What is happening?” Minerva asked, rubbing her backside against the wall, trying to make the sting go away.

“I have made a decision.” Luna said. “The owl is only trying to protect its young. We were in the wrong. I shall have to speak with the librarians. Something else will have to be done. I suppose we shall have to wait until the eggs hatch and the young are raised before the library reopens. Perhaps avian specialists can better deal with the owl. Maybe Fluttershy can reason with it. But we shall leave the owl in peace, go home, and soak our backsides in a comforting bath.”

“The books are misbehaving…” Twilight muttered.

“Twilight, be still. The nightmare is over.” Luna said in soothing tones.

Twilight stood there, twitching, her face contorting. “Every librarian’s nightmare…” Twilight stammered.

There was a loud hooting from within the room and the sounds of fluttering books.

Brimstone winced hearing the noise.

“My backside was never paddled.” Hoodwink said gratefully.

Three foals and two alicorns shot her envious looks and furious glances.

“My farts are going to sting, like they do when I’m molting.” Ivy whined, reaching back to rub her bottom.

“I do believe the books have very nearly finished breaking the crack in my plot.” Brimstone said, his crimson eyes still watering. “Words hurt me. My mother lied to me. This has not been a good night for me.”

Luna reached out and gave Brimstone a quick hug.

“I want to go home.” Minerva whined.

“The owl will be dealt with. Meanwhile, I believe all of you deserve some time spent resting. We’ll be leaving shortly.” Luna said, wanting desperately to reach back and rub her own backside.

“I am going to eat my weight in donuts.” Ivy said, rubbing her backside.

Hoodwink Thinks of Home

Hoodwink sat in a large bathtub, taking it all in. The water was warm and full of bubbles. There was the pleasant smell of soap. She sighed. Her mind was filled with the thoughts of the past few days, and with an assignment that Celestia had given her.

To think about what home was, and what it meant.

Hoodwink didn’t know.

Bathing usually meant getting dunked into a stream, river, or lake and then getting scrubbed. It was usually cold. Usually, it didn’t get rid of the sweaty pony smell and perfume had to be used.

Home was a wagon that rolled over Equestria, never settling. It was going to sleep in a different place almost every night. It was tiny cramped quarters and limited space, a spot where she was packed away like everything else. There was a small Hoodwink shaped space in the wagon where she was meant to be stored away.

But home also meant her mother. For all of her mother’s faults, she loved her mother. She had a vague understanding of how her mother had used to be. She was smart enough to have picked up on the pieces, and she had read the letters between her mother and Twilight Sparkle. Her Mother had once called herself “The Great and Powerful Trixie.” She had lusted after power and prestige. She had rolled around Equestria making a name for herself, trying to be something she wasn’t. She had once considered Twilight Sparkle her nemesis, an odd claim that Hoodwink never fully understood. Trixie believed that she needed a rival, a foe, someone to blame for failures, because that was part of being great and powerful. The magicians in the books always had great and powerful foes, sworn enemies, a nemesis to blame for when their master plan went wrong.

Now, Trixie was simply “The Great and Fabulous Trixie.” Content to be a showmare. A performer. Content to be a friend to Twilight Sparkle.

Hoodwink let out a faint cry, writhing somewhat in the water as her mind went to darker places, places she didn’t want to go.

Hoodwink knew what had changed Trixie. Trixie didn’t know that Hoodwink knew. Twilight didn’t know that Hoodwink knew. But Hoodwink knew. She cringed, her legs kicking slightly, the water splashing.

Hoodwink had figured out how to jimmy the lock holding her mother’s most private possessions, including a few letters that she wasn’t allowed to read, papers, and other things. She had learned something that she now wished she hadn’t discovered.

Hoodwink lay her head back against the edge of the tub, looking upward.

Someplace down south in the badlands, a place called Palomino Point, a place her mother had never returned to. Her mother had put on a show. Hoodwink had learned that Palomino Point was a mining town, full of miners and some pretty rough ponies.

Trixie had given them a show.

Hoodwink didn’t fully understand what had happened, but from what she had been able to gather, the ponies weren’t happy with the show, and had demanded a private show, whatever that meant. Something must have gone wrong through. For whatever reason, something awful had happened, something that had left her mother badly beaten, strangled, a leg broken, and left for dead in the desert.

Trixie had crawled out of the desert and back to civilisation, and Twilight had gone to her side. Twilight, as busy as she was a princess, had gone to the side of the mare that had named Twilight “nemesis” and had tried to comfort her after her ordeal. Twilight had paid for lodgings in a place called Dodge City, allowing her mother to heal in peace and safety. It had taken a half a year for her mother to get her voice back.

And have Hoodwink. Hoodwink had figured out that she had been born almost a year after whatever had happened.

At some point, Trixie had changed. Her long period of recovery had caused her to reflect upon what she had really wanted from life. And it hadn’t been power. A little fame couldn’t hurt though.

The bathwater was cooling off. Hoodwink didn’t know a spell to reheat bathwater. She’d probably learn one someday.

What was home? Hoodwink didn’t know.

What Hoodwink was slowly piecing together however, was the nature of being great and powerful. It wasn’t living in a wagon. No. Being great and powerful required resources. Books. Libraries. Access to means of learning. Hoodwink probably wasn’t the smartest pony in her group, but she was clever and quick, and she had learned that from being on the road. She was quiet. She was something that Twilight had called an “introvert.” She was rapidly putting together what it meant to be great and powerful, to become a truly talented wizard. She pondered the castle all around her. It was full of secrets. Knowledge. Things she could learn if she was patient and paid attention. It had resources. Food. Comfort. Books. Teachers who would show her what real power was, and how to use it. Teachers that had already achieved real power.

Hoodwink’s horn tingled as she thought.

Hoodwink realised she had a chance to become something her mother had once craved after. Hoodwink didn’t care about show business. Not anymore. That much was clear. She could see her future looming ahead of her, and she was just smart enough and just clever enough to see what sort of future she wanted.

She wanted to be great. And she wanted to be powerful. She wanted ponies to remember her name. But not for being a showmare.

No, that just wouldn’t cut it. Not anymore. Rolling around in a stinky wagon was not a means to power. Living a castle full of books was a much safer bet.

And, she reflected, she could learn from her mother’s mistakes, saving her a lot of grief and struggle in the long journey forward.

Hoodwink realised the key to success was having friends to watch your back, to pick up the slack, to shore up your own shortcomings. Trust. That was power. What was greatness? Hoodwink wasn’t sure yet.

Hoodwink reflected upon her new friends. Ivy had been there to comfort her right from the beginning, almost. Minerva was smart and cultured and was already trying to help Hoodwink fit into castle life so Hoodwink wouldn’t feel so out of place. And then there was Brimstone. Once you got past the nose burning stench, Brimstone was a good colt. He wasn’t a mane or tail puller. Those were big pluses in Hoodwink’s mind. Most other colts she had met were tail pullers and mane snatchers. Hoodwink didn’t understand colts.

She had tried to talk to her mother about it once, but it had made her mother cry. So Hoodwink had simply given up on the subject.

Her friends wouldn’t let her fail.

Hoodwink’s mind raced as she had something she would later learn was called an epiphany.

It really didn’t matter where home was, provided that her friends were there with her. None of this would mean anything if she didn’t have them. She was going to be moving around a lot during the coming years, going from place to place, learning new lessons. Things would change. The wagon was gone, but she would still be traveling a fair bit. Her friends would be with her though. She’d be spending a lot of time on trains. Trains were a lot better than some stinky cramped wagon.

She pondered this for a while in her rapidly cooling bathwater.

One thing was missing though. Her mother. She felt a pang of regret. She loved her mother. Her mother made the wagon bearable. Hoodwink felt conflicted.

She had an idea of what to write for her paper. She wondered if Celestia would be pleased. Hoodwink wanted for Celestia to be pleased.

She climbed out of the tub and stood there on the floor, watering running off of her blue coat, her mane slicked and sticking to her head and neck.

She strained and struggled and finally managed to pop the plug from the bottom of the tub to let the water out.

She looked in the mirror and saw The Great and Powerful Hoodwink staring back at her. She smiled.

Minerva's Musings

Minerva was alone. She wasn’t sure that she liked being alone. It happened to her frequently, and it was distressing. Hoodwink was in the bath. Ivy was outside, up a tree, thinking Ivy thoughts, doing whatever it was that Ivy did when she was up a tree.

And Brimstone was in his room with the door shut. Probably sulking. Colts.

She stared down at the blank paper in front of her. She wanted to write a letter home, but didn’t know what to write. She wasn’t sure if anybody would read it. She thought about the pile of unread mail on the table near the door in the front hall of Silvermane manor. Her family could be a little distracted at times. Even the maids and servants were a bit flakey, as evidenced by the cobwebs and unread mail.

The Silvermanes collected oddities. Knick knacks, cursed items, odd creatures, magical oddities, and even strange ponies were drawn to the Silvermanes. The odd ponies only helped the family to grow, after all.

Minerva reflected upon Ivy.

Her family would love Ivy she thought. And, true to being a Silvermane, Minerva had drawn a collection of oddities to her. Ivy and Brimstone weren’t your usual ponies. She snorted, thinking about Brimstone’s stench. Her family, as wealthy and cultured as they were, would probably love Brimstone, stench and potentially fatal magic being seen as a delightful curiousity.

Minerva struggled to raise her quill. It was held in her magic, quivering. What was she going to write?

Her older brother was courting the maid. It was scandalous. The maid in question had a unique talent to create cobwebs, which is why she had been hired. Everypony in the family knew that at some point, she was going to become family, and her brother had rose to the challenge of wooing her. She was playing hard to get, causing Minerva’s brother no end of torment. But Minerva knew a secret… Which caused her no end of personal satisfaction knowing something that her older brother didn’t.

The paper was still blank.

She missed her father. Sure, he was irritable, and grumpy, and didn’t like to be disturbed while he worked, but if Minerva turned on the tears, her father would forgive any intrusion. Her father was working on creating a way to store images in crystals. Moving images. So they could be watched again and again, like movies. Minerva wasn’t sure what movies were, they didn’t have theatres in the Crystal Empire, but she had heard about them. Her father was brilliant. He had conceived of this idea over a thousand years ago, back before the Crystal Empire had vanished and gone away and it was only a thousand years or so later that the rest of the world had figured out that moving pictures were pretty neat.

Her mother could make focusing crystals, something exceedingly valuable and rare, as her mother was the only pony that could make them. Any spell cast through them was greatly increased in power, and then the crystal shattered. Minerva shuddered, remembering a terrible memory. She had stolen one of her mother’s crystals and cast her door spell through it, hoping to get into her father’s laboratory, which had been locked against intrusion.

She had gone to a very strange place and had turned into a horrible monster. Something Twilight later told her was called a ‘human.’ Yuck. She had stood on two legs… And it was a horrifying nightmare, something she wished she could forget.

She had appeared in the closet door of a very kind and generous girl named Rarity, who had been very surprised to see her, and believed her when she had said that she was a pony. Rarity had fed her, looked after her, done her best to console her, and had kept her safe. Twilight and Cadance arrived eventually, and Twilight had gone to her friends in the strange world asking for help. Twilight and Cadance were also horrible gross monsters in this strange world of nightmarish monsters that walked on two legs.

The only thing her father was angry about after her whole trip was that Minerva had not taken any notes, and her mother sharing father’s disappointment. Nopony had even realised that she had been gone. And she had been gone for days. Her nanny had tried to say something, but nopony wanted to be disturbed. The nanny finally sought outside help.

The blank sheet of paper seemed to torment her. Minerva slammed her hoof down upon the table and blew a raspberry, something Ivy had said was very therapeutic.

She felt better.

And now she was here. Far away from home once again. With a monster, she reflected. The monster was her friend, and Minerva didn’t like calling her a monster, but Ivy seemed pretty insistent that she was comfortable with the title “monster.” Ivy had told her that there was no shame in being what you are, whatever that may be, and trying to deny what you were would only hurt you. Ivy had embraced being a monster and wasn’t ashamed.

Minerva was a Silvermane. She sighed. She wasn’t sure she was comfortable with that at times. Silvermanes were considered monsters. One of her great uncles was a necromancer. He was a fat and lazy pony, and wanted nothing more than to be comfortable, to sit on a cushion and watch life go by. So, he had made deals with horrible things in Tartarus, after creating a way to contact them through a crystal mirror, and learned how to raise the dead. Her great uncle suddenly had servants. And his fellow ponies had become quite irate. He had tried to assure them that his servants were harmless, and were only there to look after his needs, and that he wasn’t raising an army, and he didn’t want to take over the world. The mob didn’t believe him and her great uncle had been burned alive. It was a story that her mother and her aunt sometimes told her, warning her to not be lazy, not be idle, that a happy Silvermane was a Silvermane with a hobby, not a Silvermane that sat all day on cushions.

And then there was Sombra Silvermane, but nopony wanted to talk about him. Minerva knew him only by name, and that he had done something VERY AWFUL. But every time she had tried to find out what Sombra had done, the adult she questioned simply told her that Sombra had done something VERY AWFUL and that was the end of the discussion. Usually the Silvermanes were very open about all of their odd family members, taking pride in their behaviour. Even her great uncle, the necromancer. So Sombra really must have done something VERY AWFUL if it was so bad that even her fellow Silvermanes refused to talk about it.

Minerva hoped that she would never do something VERY AWFUL. She wanted her family to talk about her, to at least acknowledge that she was there and she existed. She just had to prove herself. She knew that. Her brother had gone largely ignored by the family until it was discovered that his talent was to cause crystals to become violently explosive. Suddenly there was a vested interest in her brother and he was gone, snatched away, joining in behind closed doors, now a member of the family, and courting the maid.

Minerva sniffed. She couldn’t make crystals explode violently, but she could open doors into other worlds. And that didn’t seem to be enough. She sighed. Opening doors wasn’t nearly as interesting as making bombs she supposed.

Minerva reflected that right now, she was a Silvermane sitting idly on a cushion. She felt a brief twinge of terror, wondering what horrible undead abominations she might conjure. She shuddered violently, causing her sore backside to rub against the cushion in the most unpleasant way. Stupid books, she thought, remembering the horrible library.

Her family would enjoy the library, she thought. Especially her aunt, who apparently liked to be spanked. At least that is what her mother had said when Minerva was eavesdropping.

Minerva’s face contorted into a pout. She certainly didn’t like being spanked.

Minerva rose to her hooves, stretching her legs and arching her back. There was a satisfying crackle. She cast a final glance at the paper. It would simply have to remain empty for now. She turned toward the door and left to go find Ivy, to see what Ivy was up to.

Brimstone Broods

Brimstone sat in his small room, alone. He wasn’t sure how he felt about being moved here, out and away from his mother’s quarters. He was growing up. He understood that. But he was hurt, and he missed her.

He felt a brief pang of guilt. This must be what his mother was also feeling, and had been feeling for quite some time. Over a year ago he had stopped sleeping in his mother’s bed with her, insisting that he was a big colt, and he wanted his own bed. He had seen tears that day.

He certainly had it now. His own room too.

He felt ashamed.

So much had changed so quickly.

He had friends now. Foals near his own age. Sure, there had been the lunar pegasi foals, most of them didn’t really want anything to do with Brimstone. They were militaristic and rough. Play was combat. Brimstone didn’t fit in with them. But had occasionally been allowed to watch. It wasn’t safe for him to be around regular foals. At least, it hadn’t been. He had control now. At least he hoped he did. No accidents for a very long time.

Some foals worried about the dark. Some worried about wetting the bed. Others worried about the many silly things that foals worried about.

Brimstone worried about killing other ponies, something that had drastically altered his mental state.

He thought about Hoodwink and Minerva. Their noses crinkled, and it was clear they had issues with the smell, but they had accepted him. They were his friends. His first real true friends, his own age, ponies he could try and relate to, even though relating to other ponies was hard, due to Brimstone’s unique mindset. They were sweet delicate fillies, kind, gentle, wonderful fillies and Brimstone felt happy to know them.

And then there was Ivy.

Brimstone felt a hot flush start in his stomach, and then it bloomed, rising up through his chest, his neck, and finally it boiled behind his face.

Ivy.

Brimstone didn’t know what to make of Ivy. The way she drooled. Her terrible teeth. Claws. Her tail. She was always sniffing him. Leaning in close, rubbing up against him, looking at him.

The heat rising from his cheeks was unbearable. He felt sweaty and kind of nauseous.

Ivy, who thought he smelled delicious. Ivy, who actually liked how he smelled. Ivy, who ignored his protests and snatched him into extra squeezy Ivy hugs that stole his breath away. She hugged everypony like that.

There was something about Ivy.

Brimstone didn’t know what it was, but it didn’t bode well. He felt confused and embarrassed about the whole thing really, and tried to dismiss it as Ivy being the first pony his own age to warmly embrace him with no reservations or a crinkled nose.

Brimstone sat and fumed. He had learned one thing from the lunar pegasi, and that was how to brood. Sure, he couldn’t get to high places, but he had picked up on their silent reflective state of meditation. It was something most ponies didn’t understand, Brimstone reflected. Ponies were highly social creatures and if there were two ponies in a room together, they were probably talking, chattering away loquaciously, as ponies were prone to do.

Not the lunar pegasi. They’d find a ledge and brood together, sitting in total silence, occasionally looking at one another, nopony saying a word. Nightfisher had brooded with him on several occasions, trying to teach him to pay attention to what the silence had to say to him. Hailstone had also brooded with him, at his mother’s request, and he had learned how to focus his mind during a state of discomfort, such as shivering violently while sitting next to the frigid mare that constantly radiated cold. Focusing the mind was important. He had to do it constantly. Or else the magic might slip out. Brooding had been what had saved him, he realised, sitting there in his cramped room. He owed the lunar pegasi some gratitude.

Hailstone and Brimstone had something in common. Hailstone had found friends, and that gave Brimstone hope. She was his special friend, due to their understanding of one another.

Brimstone wondered what his future held. For the first time in his life, he felt actual hope about his future. His depression was lifting. Ponies had to be part of a herd, or else they would get separation sickness, something Brimstone had struggled with for a long time. He wasn’t completely isolated, but he had felt isolated. And it pained him. His mother, Luna, knew what separation sickness felt like. She had endured it for a very, very long time. She had been endlessly patient with him when his mood plummeted and he felt lost and alone. She had nurtured him along. She had kept him going, dragging him along if need be, when he was stubborn and didn’t want to help himself. She was still struggling with it herself, the source of her mercurial moods and sudden shifts in personality. But she had loved him, somehow, inspite of all her pain, and he knew it.

And then he had refused to share her bed with her. He had probably sent her spiraling back into some sort of feelings of loneliness and isolation. He cringed, feeling terrible, wanting to crawl into his closet and die. He looked at the closet door and thought about the darkness swallowing him. He deserved no less.

Perhaps his aching backside was well deserved, he thought. The dull throbbing ache felt like a second heartbeat down there, just below his tail. Punishment due for his terrible and selfish mistake.

Suddenly, he didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t want to brood.

Hoodwink was in the tub.

Minerva was in her room with the door shut, probably sulking after being paddled by those perverse books. Fillies, Brimstone thought.

And Ivy was probably doing Ivy things. Hanging from a tree like a possum and thinking Ivy thoughts, things that only Ivy could think about, constructing new bits of Ivy logic.

Brimstone carefully pulled out a sheet of paper and took a pencil into his mouth. He stared at the paper, and, after several moments of careful consideration, began to write his mother a sincere letter of apology, asking her if he had hurt her feelings, and hoping that he could gain her forgiveness. He already knew that she would forgive him, but he wanted to express the idea that he wanted to earn her forgiveness. He wanted her to be proud of him, to say that he was a good and honourable colt.

It was something he needed.

It wasn’t long until he had a brief four page letter scratched out. He scowled, worried that the letter was too brief, possibly informal, maybe even cold and distant. That would never do, writing an insincere letter trying to apologise… No, this would never do. Brimstone felt a twinge of panic, imagining his mother reading a letter that was only four pages, only briefly mentioning what he had done wrong, the reasons why he had done it, and the feelings it had caused him. and the crushing regret that he was now feeling. Only four pages, written both front and back in his tiny but surprisingly detailed script.

Neurosis gripped him. Brimstone understood neurosis. It was his constant companion.

He quickly scrawled out a ten page postscript, both front and back, apologising for his inconsiderate and brief attempt at a letter, expressing his worry that she would be displeased, trying to reassure his mother that he wasn’t trying to hold her at leg’s length for moving him into his own room, that he still loved her dearly, he bore her no ill will, and his hopes that she wasn’t holding on to any lingering negative feelings over the issue.

After scratching everything out, Brimstone worried that he hadn’t been clear enough. Perhaps a re-read was in order, or maybe just throwing out the entire letter altogether and starting over.

Brimstone cursed his cowardice and carefully began to fold the letter, pressing down upon it with his hoof, getting perfectly folded creases. A sloppy letter would never do. Everything had to be just so. He folded each page carefully, and then carefully stacked everything together in order. He hoped that he didn’t slobber on anything too much, leaving a mess.

This is a bad idea, he thought. The letter was not his best effort, and only the best would do. Brimstone expected nothing less than perfection from himself.

He ignored himself.

He rose, backside still smarting, and prepared to leave his room. He would place the letter under his mother’s door and hope for the best.

After delivering the letter, perhaps he’d go knock on Minerva’s door and bother her. Hiding one’s self up in a room and obsessing over things was never a good idea.

Background Pony Interlude

Applejack lay on her back, staring up at the clouds, which is mostly all she did these days. Her hair spilled around her neck and shoulders, free from her usual ribbon. A long stalk of grass was in her lips. Her hat lay nearby. Her stomach was large and round, which Pinkie Pie had said made her look like a pumpkin with legs.

Maplejack lay napping by her side, his little freckled face resting on her hat.

A squat looking blue grey pony cautiously approached Applejack, head low, his wheat coloured mane covering most of his face.

“Stumpy.” Applejack said.

The stallion froze, not saying anything, not moving, waiting.

“Get on over here,”

Stumpy slowly approached, nuzzling Maplejack as he did so.

“How’s applebuckin’?” Applejack asked, knowing that she wouldn’t get an answer. Not from Stumpy.

Stumpy stood there and shrugged, and then looked off into the vast orchards. The trees were beautiful, and some were still full of apples.

The stallion crept even closer to Applejack, sneaking a kiss on her cheek.

“How’s babybuckin’?” He asked, his voice a low whisper.

Applejack’s eyes flew wide open in surprise upon hearing his voice. She wrapped her forelegs around the stallion’s neck and hauled him in for a loud wet kiss.

Stumpy was stunned, as always. He stood there, trying to regain his senses.

“Babybuckin’ is just fine. We have ourselves a good crop I think. Doctor says twins again.” She laid her head back on the ground and resumed cloud watching. “I’m gonna be laid up completely in a another month or two. Again.”

There was a thunderous crack overhead, causing Maplejack to awaken with a cry.

“That’ll be trouble.” Applejack drawled.

Stumpy took off with a trot, off to find chores.

Maplejack crawled up against his mother and snorted, angered from being awoken from his nap.

A rainbow coloured blur flew overhead, stopping suddenly over Applejack.

“Applejack, I’m so glad I found you.”

“What’s wrong now Dash?” Applejack asked.

“Who said anything is wrong?” Rainbow Dash asked, her tone wavering.

“You only come here when you’re in trouble.” Applejack drawled, yawning.

Dash landed, walking over to Applejack. She touched her friend’s belly with a hoof, and then she sat down next to Applejack.

“Jackie?” Rainbow Dash said.

“Yeah Dashie?”

“I need to ask you to forgive me.”

“Why’s that sugarcube?”

“I haven’t been a very good friend. I’ve been a lousy friend. You’ve been down here, having foals and trying to make a family and run a farm and I haven’t been here for you.” Rainbow Dash hung her head dejectedly.

“We lead very different lives Dashie. You’re up there chasin’ dreams, I’m down here makin’ my dreams happen. We went different ways. I’m still your friend. Life’s just changed. That’s all. Fluttershy and I have more in common now I reckon. We’ve become a lot closer. More like how you and I used to be.” Applejack said, her voice slow and measured.

“Used to be?” Rainbow Dash said in a pained tone. “I’m a lousy Element of Loyalty.”

“So what’s the trouble Dashie?” Applejack asked, getting to the point.

“Who said there’s trouble?” Rainbow Dash said.

“Dash, I ain’t in the mood. Get to the point. And I’ll help you anyway I can.”

“I’m in trouble Applejack.” Rainbow Dash admitted.

“I knew that. Now get to the goldurn point. I’m cranky.” Applejack drawled.

“Applejack, I, uh, well, you see,” Rainbow Dash stammered, “I quit the Wonderbolts.”

“Say again?” Applejack demanded in surprise.

“I quit. The Wonderbolts. It’s over. I punched Spitfire in the nose and left her a bloody mess. Probably broke another academy record. I got sick of how she treated ponies. I was angry because of what they did to Soarin’ after his back got hurt that last time. They’re all awful ponies and I just couldn’t stand to be around them anymore.” Rainbow Dash took several deep breaths.

“Good for you, Dashie.” Applejack said, a certain happiness in her tone. “Those Wonderbolts were jackanapes. And you were startin’ to become one yerself.”

“I know…” Rainbow Dash rasped. “But there’s more.”

“In some trouble for punching somepony in the snotlocker?” Applejack asked.

“No Applejack.” Rainbow Dash answered. “I went out last night after it happened. Went drinking with Cloud Crasher. You’ve met him once. He’s a little younger than me. A recruit. He can make rainbooms. We went drinking and he quit because I quit, and one thing led to another and I really don’t remember what happened but apparently we flew to Los Pegasus and got married and I can’t remember any of it and I woke up this morning and found out and we both saw the marriage license in his saddlebag… We were in the same bed Applejack! And we both sort of freaked out and we’ve been playing a supersonic game of hide and go seek all morning and I’m sick of running away.” Rainbow Dash fell silent.

Applejack lay there, staring upward, saying nothing. She lay there for a long time.

“Dashie?” Applejack said softly.

“Yeah?”

“Pick up Maplejack and hold on to him for a moment. You’ll feel better.”

Rainbow Dash snatched up the foal in her forelegs, rocking back and forth on her haunches.

“Now Dashie, tell me, what are ya doin’ here in my orchard on yer honeymoon?”

Rainbow Dash said nothing, her face contorting as her brain melted down. Maplejack yawned broadly, seemingly unconcerned about being held by a pony in the middle of a nervous breakdown.

Silence fell upon the orchard.

The two friends sat there, Applejack staring up at clouds, and Rainbow Dash clutching a foal to her chest.

“Dashie?” Applejack finally asked.

Rainbow Dash said nothing.

“Time to settle down and do the right thing Rainbow Dash.” Applejack drawled.

“What’s that?” Rainbow Dash asked. “What do I do?”

“Figure out your marriage. If you really want to break it off, do it, but remember, this time you’re hurtin’ another pony. Get your life sorted out. You were right for ditchin’ the Wonderbolts. Time for somethin’ new.” Applejack looked at Rainbow Dash and smiled faintly. “And come home Dashie. I’ve missed you somethin’ awful. Everypony has. Stop being a stranger.”

There was a loud crack overhead, causing Rainbow Dash to nearly jump out of her skin.

“Oh no!” Rainbow Dash moaned.

“Dash, don’t you dare fly away.” Applejack warned.

A stallion approached. He was charcoal grey and had a cinnamon coloured mane.

“Rainbow?” He asked, approaching slowly. “Ma’am.” He said, looking at Applejack.

“Ya got manners.” Applejack said, looking back skyward.

“I’m sorry I freaked out Cloud Crasher.” Rainbow Dash said in a strained voice.

The stallion said nothing but looked at Rainbow Dash, who was still holding Maplejack. They stood there, looking at one another for several minutes.

“You could try complimentin’ her. She’s got a big ego.” Applejack said helpfully.

“Yes ma’am, I know that.” Cloud Crasher replied.

“Oh!” Rainbow Dash gasped.

“Rainbow Dash, we need to sort this out.” Cloud Crasher said in neutral tones.

Rainbow Dash clutched the foal in her forelegs, burying her muzzle into his mane. She inhaled deeply.

“No.” Rainbow Dash said.

Cloud Crasher hung his head.

“There’s nothing to sort out.” Rainbow Dash said. “I freaked out. I over-reacted. I think we both did. But let’s face it, you and I have been chasing each other for a while now. The Wonderbolts can get stuffed. We’re better fliers. Faster fliers. I say we form our own team and compete. And after we’ve had some fun showing off, we can settle down and raise some really fast foals. And that’s all I’ve got to say about the issue.”

“Dashie,” Applejack said, “I’m about six up on you. Ya better get to babybuckin’.”

“Twins again?!” Rainbow Dash replied.

Cadance Has Something to Say

Minerva was home. The Crystal Empire. She stared out the window of the room she shared with Ivy and Hoodwink. It felt good to be home. Even though only two weeks or so had past, it had been a long two weeks. Lovesick ghosts. Perverse plot paddling books in a library. And a flood of actual schoolwork. Papers. Books to read. Lectures from other teachers, teachers not alicorns, but just teachers teaching the mundane sorts of things that students had to learn.

There was knock on the door. Three fillies turned their head as the door opened, revealing a grey unicorn guard. He said nothing, but beckoned with his hoof.

Time to go. Class awaited. They had arrived late yesterday evening and it was a bright new day.

They trotted down the hall, Brimstone in tow, with all four foals trying to view the Crystal Spire where they were staying. It was an immense structure, which had grown even larger as of late. It was made of living crystal, and the power of the Crystal Heart had filled it full of life. It was somewhat difficult to live in a growing changing structure, but that was life in the Crystal Empire.

Minerva had been to these rooms before. She was in a place she recognised, close to Cadance’s private quarters that she shared with Shining Armor.

The guard stopped at the door. He pointed with his hoof.

The foals entered.

And saw Cadance reclining on a large cushion. She gazed at them intently. Her face stern and serious, but also gentle.

Minerva recognised the look as the climbed on top of a large cushion and settled in.

Her fellow students did the same.

“Greetings.” Cadance said in a warm welcoming voice. “I am so pleased to have you all here. While Luna has been teaching you practical matters, I hope to teach you something that I hope you will find useful as well. I will be instructing you in diplomacy. Social interaction. How to serve other ponies. Social graces. Do you understand?”

Four heads nodded yes.

Cadance beamed.

“Before we begin, are there any questions?” Cadance asked, looking hopeful. “Questions allow us all to learn. I want there to always be questions.”

Brimstone sat up slightly and raised a hoof.

“Brimstone?” Cadance replied.

Brimstone cleared his throat and looked thoughtful for a moment. In his most cultured voice he asked: “Cadance, I was reading a book about all of your accomplishments and the things you have done in your life. In the book, there are many accomplishments listed, but specifically you stated that your greatest achievement was acting as a foal sitter. Would you care to explain?”

Cadance lost her composure for a moment, looking at Brimstone in awe, eyes wide.

She cleared her throat and took a deep breath.

“That is a very good question Brimstone. I had a very different lesson planned this day, but it seems that the lesson must be changed. I do believe an answer to your question would be far more instructive.” Cadance said, radiating grace and charm. Cadance was a pony that could think on her hooves.

Ivy struggled to settle on her cushion. Her body was too long, her cushion too small. Hoodwink shoved an extra cushion over to her while Cadance considered her words.

“Being a foal sitter is where I learned diplomacy. It is where I learned to be a good pony. It is where I learned to make other ponies want to do what I said. It was also where I developed much of my philosophy in life.” Cadance paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. “I had many epiphanies during my time as a foal sitter.” Cadance shifted on her cushion. “I also learned to compromise, a very important lesson that many ponies struggle to learn, because we all want what we want and we do not like it when we do not get our way.”

Cadance cleared her throat softly.

“Being a foal sitter is probably the most important task that anypony can take on.”

“But why is that?” Ivy asked, daring to speak up.

Cadance looked thoughtful. “A foal sitter is somepony special. It is usually the first near adult or adult a foal interacts with that is not a full authority figure, like a parent or a teacher. A foal sitter is more of an older responsible friend. Or should be. The foal sitter is in a unique position. They are the first adult or near adult relationship in a foal’s life that isn’t a relationship based on authority, but one of trust. What the foal sitter does shapes all of the future relationships a foal will have as an adult. A foal sitter determines if adults can be trusted. If adults are worth having as friends. If adults can be anything other than adults. And can shape a foal’s developing worldview. The foal sitter has an immense social responsibility that they must be accountable for. They gently bring foals into the mature relationships of adulthood and teach them social ritual.”

Four foals stared blankly in unison.

Cadance realised she might be over their heads.

“What if I had abused Twilight?” She said, gently, hoping to explain. “What if I had abused her trust? What if I was short with her? What if I did nothing but make demands as her foal sitter, never listening to her needs, or taking time to listen to what she might have wanted, and only expressed my desires on what to do during our time together? What if I never gave her a moment to offer her opinion and took time to listen to what she had to say?”

Minerva’s muzzle scrunched, her brow furrowing in deep thought.

Ivy squirmed, wishing she was rightside up for this sort of thinking. Sitting on the cushion wasn’t cutting it, she needed to be hanging somewhere for this kind of deep thought.

Hoodwink looked baffled.

Brimstone looked blank.

“What if I had never given Twilight an opportunity to interact at an adult level, never giving her a chance to learn what it takes to be a good pony, and she had grown up and followed my terrible example?” Cadance inquired.

Brimstone’s mind suddenly snapped into gear. His mouth hung open, and it was clear to any observer that he was having an epiphany.

Ivy scratched an antler.

Minerva and Hoodwink exchanged a glance.

“Twilight Sparkle may have never become a princess if Cadance was a bad foal sitter.” Brimstone mumbled. “What we do really does affect others.”

“Very good Brimstone.” Cadance praised. “The foal sitter is usually the example that most young ponies try to model some of their future social behaviours after, as they rebel against their parents, trying to develop their own personalities and find their place in the world.”

The realisation of Cadance’s words hit Ivy like a slap in the face as they finally sunk in. Her foal sitters had frequently been the Elements of Harmony, and, much of the time, Applejack. Her brain buzzed with the realisation.

“I’ve never had a foal sitter.” Hoodwink said, looking sad. “Will I turn out badly?” She asked, real fear creeping into her voice.

“No.” Cadance said gently. “You are still young and much can change. Take heart little one, the world still has much in store for you.”

Hoodwink took a deep breath and held it in for a moment, and then let it out in a huff.

Ivy abandoned her cushion, slittering forward, climbing onto Hoodwink’s cushion, and then onto Hoodwink. She flopped around her, coiling up.

“Ow Ivy!” Get off!” Hoodwink protested.

“Climbing Ivy, may I ask, what are you doing?” Cadance questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Foal sitting.” Ivy said, trying to settle in as Hoodwink cried out in protest.

Cadance let out a small giggle inspite of herself. She had been warned about something called “Ivy Logic” and Ivy’s practical approach to taking in new concepts.

“Ivy, foal sitting doesn’t mean you actually sit on foals.” Cadance said, trying to hold back a smile.

“Applejack sat on me a few times.” Ivy protested, finally coiling around Hoodwink. She wasn’t at all comfortable, but it was clearly a sacrifice that a foal sitter had to make.

Brimstone chuckled and tried to compose himself.

“Applejack said I was a wiggleworm. And I had to learn how to hold still.” Ivy said, trying to explain.

“I’m squished.” Hoodwink protested.

“I had to learn how to get Twilight Sparkle to do as I asked, which was a very difficult thing to do for me.” Cadance said, continuing the lesson as Ivy settled in. “I was somewhat impatient when I was younger. Twilight Sparkle tested my patience. She was stubborn and wanted to do her own things. She frequently wanted to know why she had to do something when asked to do something. She tested her limits with me. I had to learn when to explain why, and when to ask her to trust me. But the important thing is, I took time to explain why on many occasions. And Twilight trusted me because I did so. I was the first adult to really sit down and explain why, rather than just expecting obedience when I asked something or required something to be done. Twilight told me this one night. And things were different between us after that moment. Twilight knew that I would explain why if I could, if not right away, then later, when it was more appropriate.”

Cadance paused, resting her voice.

“I get frustrated when adults won’t tell me why.” Minerva said. “How am I supposed to learn anything if somepony won't tell me? And then adults complain that I’m a silly foal and I don’t know anything, and it is all their fault because they don’t tell me anything.” She said bitterly.

Cadance sighed.

“I have to be careful if I ask why to my mother.” Brimstone offered. “Depending on her mood, she may become slightly annoyed with me, or, she may decide to tell me why with a very instructive lesson, which usually includes some kind of homework and research project. I have to weigh if asking why is worth the risk.”

“If I ask my daddy why, he usually tells me some silly fable and then leaves me alone to figure it out. He checks on me later to see what I’ve learned.” Ivy replied. “My mother sometimes will explain things.”

“Twilight Sparkle was a very curious little filly and she wanted logical explanations as to why she couldn’t do something or why the answer was no. She wasn’t content with a simple no, and would become very angry and frustrated, much more so than a normal filly her age. Twilight was much more intelligent than most fillies her age, and her mind was far more adult, trapped in the body of a foal. She spent a lot of time frustrated and feeling isolated. Adults treated her as a foal and it infuriated her. She was content not to do something if told no, she just wanted the reasons why things were the way they were. If she had a satisfactory answer, she let the issue drop. Eventually, Twilight trusted me enough to know that I had good reasons if I said no.” Cadance said.

Cadance took a deep breath and continued. “Getting Twilight to try new things was always a challenge. Getting her to step out of her comfort zone caused her a lot of anxiety and fear. It was a constant problem for her. The adults in her life usually just drug her along, kicking and screaming, and, even though they were as gentle and encouraging as possible, it caused Twilight a lot of suffering, and made her angry. It left her bitter and lacking trust. She was constantly being thrust into new situations and it left her frightened and unsure. I had to figure out how to coax Twilight along and make her want to try new things, and take on new situations. After some trial and error, and a lot of trust building, I would make deals with her, that if she did what was requested, we would spend an afternoon doing something that she loved, even if it was something I didn’t particularly care for.” Cadance paused. “We spent a lot of time in the Royal Stamp Museum.”

Hoodwink scratched her head with a hoof and looked at Cadance. “I’m thinking that this has made you a better princess, and that it has made Twilight a better princess as well.” She commented, squirming under Ivy.

“Yes.” Cadance said. “When I am dealing with a group of ponies that are being very difficult, I always try to find some way to approach them as though I was their foalsitter. I try to deal with them as gently and fairly as possible, wanting and hoping for them to trust in me as their leader.”

“I’m guessing that you don’t actually treat them as foals.” Brimstone said.

Cadance paused, considering her answer. “Sometimes.” She said, being brutally honest. “To be completely honest, sometimes, it is exactly what they want and all other approaches fail. They behave foalishly, and I deal with them accordingly. And sometimes this is the only way. It always leaves me a little sad.”

“I’m not used to adults being honest.” Minerva said in a hushed whisper, cringing with faint worry. “Usually they say one thing and do another, or tell you not to do something and then turn around and do it themselves.”

“Minerva?” Cadance said, causing Minerva to drop her eyes to the floor.

“Minerva, look at me.” Cadance requested.

Minerva looked up, guilty.

“Do not be ashamed of what you just said and do not worry. Adults do make a lot of mistakes. We are not perfect, no matter what other adults might tell you. We do make mistakes. We do bad things. We have faults. Sometimes, we do not engage in fair behaviour, and we can become very hurtful and destructive to those around us, especially foals. I made mistakes with Twilight. I had to learn how to swallow my pride and apologise, and work to regain her trust. Something a lot of adults are not comfortable with doing. Twilight and I became very close because I was willing to admit when I had made a mistake. And eventually, in time, when I made a mistake, she waited for me to apologise, knowing that one was due, and continued to trust in me even though she might be angry at the moment.” Cadance smiled.

“This is the essence of what love is. Treating each other fairly.” Cadance said warmly. “It is a very broad concept, but I am confident that I will be able to teach it to you all in time, if you are patient with me, trust in me, and forgive my mistakes should I make one.”

“Your version of love sounds too complicated!” Ivy exclaimed.

“How so?” Cadance asked.

“Too many words.” Ivy answered.

“Love is a very difficult concept and I am positive that the Princess of Love can explain her element, given enough time.” Brimstone stated.

“Doubtful.” Said Ivy. “Words get muddled up. Some words have too many meanings and you have to spend too much time trying to figure out what a word means when it is said to you. You take one little word wrong and suddenly everything somepony said hurts.”

“Do you have a better explanation Ivy?” Cadance asked.

Ivy began to uncoil from around Hoodwink, causing Hoodwink to gasp with relief. She slithered from the pillow, down onto the floor, tensed her body, and then pounced.

Cadance discovered what a full contact body check Ivy hug felt like. It was warm, had a lot of limbs, a coiling tail, and a long sinuous body that could contort to fit almost any contour. Ivy could also squeeze like a boa constrictor.

It was also filled with a lot of enthusiastic love.

“Words complicate things sometimes.” Ivy said, wrapping herself around Cadance. “Sometimes it is better to just do. I don’t hafta explain what I am doing right now. It simply is. No mistakes. No double meaning. A hug is a hug.”

Cadance struggled for air, like most ponies did during an Ivy hug. While pleasant, Ivy didn’t relent from her affection. Her affection was almost predatory, Cadance realised.

“Ivy, I think that when you are older, you will understand that sometimes, a hug isn’t just a hug, and a kiss isn’t always a kiss. When you become an adult, new concepts will confuse these things, blur the lines on what you think you know.” Cadance explained in gentle tones.

Ivy paused, looking genuinely sad. “Really?” She asked, her lip quivering. “This gets complicated too?”

“Yes Ivy. It does.”

Ivy paused, looking wounded. “I don’t want to grow up then.” She stated flatly. “This is the only thing that makes sense in my life.”

Cadance patiently allowed Ivy to keep hugging her, trying to console the foal on the verge of tears. She realised that a distraction was in order.

“Ivy, every foal has to grow up sometime.” Cadance said gently, her mind quickly trying to find a way to transition into something else.

“Spike hasn’t grown up. He’s still very small and young.” Ivy protested.

“Spike is a dragon. He is going to spend a hundred years or more in childhood.” Cadance said.

“I’m part dragon.” Ivy said.

“Yes you are Ivy, but I would hazard a guess that biologically speaking, you are probably older than Spike right now.” Cadance stated.

It was the wrong thing to say. Ivy wilted, going limp.

Cadance felt her throat tighten with emotion. This was not going as planned.

“Growing up isn’t so bad.” Cadance said gently. “You get to find purpose. You get to do explore your potential. You get to discover new things and make your way in the world. Has anypony thought about what they will do when they grow up? Or something they would like to try? There is no sense into rushing into what you have to do as an adult, but it doesn’t hurt to think about it, or to dream.”

“I plan to defend Equestria.” Brimstone stated, with no trace of doubt in his tone. “I will take up armor and protect what I believe is right. I will be one of the many who hold the line so other ponies can live in peace and safety. I will sacrifice my self so that others might live a better life.”

“That is very noble Brimstone.” Cadance said.

“I’m willing to offer my pound of flesh.” Brimstone stated.

Cadance looked puzzled, but no explanation seemed forthcoming.

“I’m probably going to be a Silvermane.” Minerva stated. “That’s a full time job. Not sure if I want to do it, but that is probably what will happen.”

“Then do something else.” Hoodwink offered.

“Like what?” Minerva asked. “Being a Silvermane is all I know.”

Hoodwink shrugged. “Become a foal sitter?” She offered.

Minerva paused, looking thoughtful, her muzzle scrunching as she reflected upon Hoodwink’s words. Her mouth opened a few times, as though she was going to say something, but each time she fell silent. Her ears drooped.

“Nopony in my family has ever been anything but a Silvermane. I can’t imagine leaving. We are what we are. We do what we do. We are weirdos and crackpots. I can’t imagine anypony wanting me as a foal sitter because I’m a Silvermane. No sane pony wants anything to do with us. Probably because of Sombra Silvermane. Whatever he did must have been really awful, because nopony likes us.” Minerva kicked out a hind leg, trying to become comfortable on her cushion. “And I have this name and ponies will probably always treat me as a Silvermane.”

“Well those ponies can get stuffed.” Hoodwink said with an angry grunt. “They’re stupid. And mean.”

“Hoodwink, what would you like to do?” Cadance said, trying to distract the foal from her angry outburst.

“I plan to become Great and Powerful. I’m going to have close friends that I can trust to watch my back… And well, I don’t know about the rest of my plan just yet. But I’m getting the friends I’ll need for later.”

Cadance smiled, her eyes merry.

“Ivy?”

“Yes Cadance?” Ivy replied dejectedly, still clinging to Cadance.

“Have you given any thought about what you might like to do when you grow up?” Cadance said, trying to coax the depressed foal into a better mood.

“Keep things simple, like Applejack says to do.” Ivy replied. “Real simple. Leave the complicated stuff alone.”

“That sounds like a really good idea Ivy,” Cadance agreed, “but what would you like to do as an adult? You have exceptional magic. Would you like to farm, like Applejack? Being a farmer is a noble and worthy goal in life. We all need to eat,”

Ivy paused thoughtfully. “No,” she stated, “I have other plans. Applejack asked me to do her a favour and I’m probably going to spend the rest of my life doing that.”

“Applejack asked you to do a favour that requires your entire life to do?” Cadance said, her composure breaking, suddenly very confused. “And you plan to comply? Applejack must be very special to you.”

“She’s my aunt.” Ivy said, as though that explained everything. “And I can do other jobs while I do what Applejack asked me to do. I’ve been thinking about guarding ponies, like Brimstone wants to do. I found out I’m made of sterner stuff when I was in the library getting my backside paddled by those stupid books. Better me than my friends.” Ivy paused to think about the pain she had endured.

“Ivy dear,” Cadance said, her voice dripping with curiousity, “What is it that Applejack asked you to do, exactly, and why would it take a lifetime?”

“I’m going to heal the Everfree forest using my magic. Applejack says that the land is sad. She knows, she’s an earth pony, and earth ponies and I have a lot in common. The plants are all sick and it makes the land sad. The ground needs healing, but it can’t heal until the plants get better. And I am going to fix that. If I can heal the plants, the land can stop being sad, and Applejack can stop feeling the ground cry out in pain. It makes Applejack sad.”

“You are going to heal the Everfree?” Cadance asked, her voice trailing off in surprise.

Sombra Silvermane

Minerva found herself in a very dark place. She was terrified of the dark. She had always been afraid of the dark. And now, it was dark. She struggled to light her horn. She couldn’t remember how she had arrived here. Had she gone through a door again? Bumped her head? She couldn’t remember.

There was something under her hooves, but she couldn’t see what it is. But she knew what it was, being a crystal pony. She stood on a floor of crystal. Only the crystal didn’t feel right. It felt off. Corrupted. This bothered her, much in the same way corrupted earth would bother an earth pony.

Her horn flared a moment, creating a silver glow, and when it did, there was a crackle of laughter. Horrible laughter. Her light died. She saw things in the darkness during the brief flash of light. Horrible things with leering eyes and frightening teeth.

Minerva whimpered. She hated the dark.

“Minerva…” said a disembodied voice, “Minerva Silvermane. Do you know me?” The voice asked.

“I don’t want to know you!” Minerva said, her voice almost in a shriek, fear causing her heart to thud painfully in her chest. Her bowels gurgled unpleasantly.

“Minerva…” the voice said again, “you can free me. Open the door Minerva. Release us all.”

Minerva could not respond, her voice dying in her throat. Her mind was shutting down now. The darkness was bad enough, but this was too much for her to handle. She felt faint.

“Minerva…” said the voice again, “you can not turn your back on family.”

“I don’t know you! Minerva cried, whimpering in fear.

“Yesss you do!” A voice hissed. “We have spoke many times.”

“I don’t remember it!” Minerva pleaded. The sibilant hiss was too much to bear. Minerva’s bladder clenched and failed. Shame flooded her body. She started to cry.

“Such weakness in a Silvermane.” The voice said.

Minerva continued to weep.

“I don’t want to know you.” Minerva said.

“I am Sombra Silvermane! And you will release me!” A light flared.

Minerva cowered, her legs wobbling, trying not to faint. She was surrounded. All around her were ponies. Who were not ponies. Not anymore. Ribs were visible. Bits of skulls. Eyes gone, replaced with red crystal orbs. Flesh hung in tatters.

And Sombra sat on his throne before her. He rose from his seat, looking down at her. “You disgust me, weak creature.” He croaked. “To think I have to rely on you to escape this prison.”

Sombra strode forward slowly, sniffing, savouring Minerva’s fear. He stood before her, glowering at her, still sniffing, staring down in all of his undead glory.

He kicked out a hoof, striking Minerva in the face.

Minerva felt like her face exploded. She felt something hot, something burning, her eyes watered and her ears rang. She fell backward onto the floor, her head striking the stone, making everything worse. She couldn’t breathe. She was choking on something liquid and runny.

Her own blood she realised.

She struggled for air, finding none. She strangled and gurgled while Sombra stood over her.

“I need you to live.” He said, his voice cold. His horn flared, glowing red, and the worst pain in Minerva’s life wracked her tiny body, causing her to cry out, forcing blood from her airway as she screamed and gurgled.

Ivy awoke to a terrible scream, a gurgling cry that sounded like somepony was strangling.

“IVY HELP ME!” Minerva screamed.

Ivy was on her feet in seconds, leaping down from her bunk, landing on Minerva’s bed on the other side of the room. She stood over Minerva, crest raised, wings out, growling.

It was a horrible sound. A terrible sound.

Ivy whirled around, looking for whatever had hurt Minerva. Minerva was soaked in something. Something that smelled like blood. And urine. Ivy sniffed. And something dead she concluded, trying to take everything in.

The door burst open, a unicorn guard entering the room. “What has happened?” The guard asked, gasping when he saw blood.

“I didn’t do this!” Ivy said, realising how this might look.

The was a loud pop outside the door.

Hoodwink was on her hooves, looking around, her horn glowing bright orange, stammering wordlessly in confusion.

Cadance entered the room, looking sleepy and disheveled. “Ivy, nopony is accusing you of anything. We need to know what happened.”

“I don’t know!” Ivy whined. “Minerva’s hurt. Bloody.” Ivy cowered over her friend, covering Minerva’s body with her own.

Cadance strode forward, pushing the guard aside.

“Minerva, what happened?” Cadance asked, sensing something was wrong.

Minerva laid in her bed and cried, unable to answer.

“Minerva smells like dead things.” Ivy said. “I can smell it.”

Cadance’s mouth moued. “Thank you Ivy. Perhaps it will help us understand is going on. Can you smell anything else?”

“No. Just blood. Urine. Dead things.” Ivy said.

“Minerva,” Cadance asked, “can you talk to me? I need to hear your voice. Do you know what happened? Can you remember anything?”

Minerva let out a strangled gurgle when she tried to talk, blood from her nose going back into her throat.

Cadance lifted both Ivy and Minerva from the bed with her magic. They clung to one another, Ivy trying to be protective.

“I dunno!” Minerva finally gasped.

Brimstone stood in the doorway, looking angry and disturbed, saying nothing.

“Summon the maids. See that the bedding is replaced. Have this cleaned up.” Cadance said, turning toward the guard. She began to exit the room, with Ivy and Minerva still in her magic, still clinging to one another. Blood dribbled and pooled at the bottom of her magical sphere.

She walked through the doorway, her own wings slightly flared, her hooves thudding on the tile. Something had hurt her student. That much was clear. Something that had left the stench of death upon her. Cadance frowned. She didn’t like not knowing what was going on.

Hoodwink walked behind her, Brimstone at her side. He was scowling, his teeth bared.

Minerva’s sobs echoed down the crystal corridor. She clung to Ivy, who was hugging her, stroking her, trying to calm her.

Shining Armor was striding down the hall to meet them, his face concerned. When he saw the bloody foal, he scowled.

“What has happened?” He demanded, looking around at the guards who were beginning to assemble in the hall. “What has gone on here? Why is this foal injured? I want an explanation.”

Minerva’s face was beginning to swell, the blood slowly subsiding.

“Ivy responded first Shining,” Cadance said as she continued down the hall, foals in tow, “she said she smelled dead things.”

“Dead things?” Shining asked, baffled.

“Like when I find a rotten animal carcass in the woods and it makes my mouth water.” Ivy said, still clutching Minerva. “Something dead for a long time.”

Shining looked thoroughly confused.

“Ivy,” Shining said, moving closer to her, “what happened.”

“I don’t know. I heard Minerva screaming and I jumped from my bed to her bed and she was covered in blood.” Ivy cried, tears finally starting to flow, fear overcoming her need to protect.

“I don’t know what happened either.” Hoodwink offered. “I just heard screaming. Minerva screamed for Ivy to help her.”

“Good Ivy.” Shining said, distracted.

A powerful sulfurous stench filled the hall, the smell worse than ever.

“Brimstone.” Cadance said, her tone commanding. “Calm yourself. Reflect upon your mother’s lessons.”

Brimstone cringed slightly. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, still striding forward alongside Hoodwink.

When he opened his eyes, the smell had subsided slightly.

“Minerva…” Brimstone said, his voice thick with emotion, “I’m here for you Minerva.”

Minerva continued to sob.

The group stopped in front of a set of double doors.

“Shining, please look after these two. Take them somewhere. Perhaps get them a snack. Calm Brimstone down as much as possible.” Cadance requested.

“I’m not leaving!” Brimstone protested.

“I am going to give these two a bath. Please go with Shining.” Cadance said gently.

“No.” Brimstone said. “No. I will not. I’d rather stay here and guard the door. What if whatever it was comes back?”

Cadance gathered her patience, taking several deep breaths before trying to speak.

“Good colt Brimstone. You will stand here and guard this door. I am trusting you to keep my wife safe, and these two fillies. There isn’t a lot you can do right now, with the situation being what it is, but you can be vigilant, and that is important and meaningful.” Shining said, before Cadance had a chance to speak. “I want a full contingent around this door.” Shining said. “Cast wards.” He commanded. “Brimstone, I need for you to follow my instructions. A guard must remain calm. Collected. Cool. You must keep your emotions in check. So you can listen. See. Sense when something isn’t right. If you remain agitated, you cannot do your job.”

Cadance realised exactly why she loved Shining Armor.

Brimstone stood, surrounded by unicorns and pegasi who gathered around the door, their faces stony, emotionless, nopony commenting or complaining about the stench.

Cadance pushed through the doors, walking through her royal quarters, finally entering her bathroom.

She began to run water.

She sat both foals down on the floor and gently began to wipe blood away with a damp cloth. Her nose crinkled, smelling urine.

Minerva continued to sob pitifully.

Cadance lifted them both again, stepped forward towards the broad tub, and dropped them both into the soothingly hot water.

She stood over them, hoping Minerva would calm. Anger seethed through her body. She was a pegasus first, and an alicorn second. Right now, she was feeling a lot more like a pegasus. Raw hot anger bubbled through her. Something had harmed a foal. Her foal. Whatever it was. Cadance wanted answers. She struggled against her inner nature, feeling her fine sense of control slipping away. Her inner pegasus screamed. It didn’t want logic, or patience, or a calm sense of refinement. No. It wanted to kick and trample something into oblivion, leaving a greasy bloody mess on her hooves.

Ivy clung to Minerva in the water. The sobs were slowly subsiding. Ivy grasped a sponge from the side of the tub and gently wiped Minerva’s nose, trying to remove more blood.

Minerva’s face was badly swollen, her eyes almost swollen shut. Her silver mane was caked in blood.

Blood still trickled from Minerva’s nostrils.

Cadance’s horn glowed, her face contorted, and the blood ceased to dribble.

“I’m not very good at that just yet.” Cadance said.

“I don’t know what happened.” Minerva said with a shuddering gasp, trying to hold back her sobs. “My face hurts.”

Cadance seethed. Her body felt on fire.

“Thanks Ivy.” Minerva said, still clinging to her friend. “Sorry I made you messy.”

Ivy said nothing, but continued to gently try to clean Minerva’s face.

“I wet the bed again.” Minerva moaned, starting to sniffle, tears falling.

“Has this happened before?” Cadance asked.

“Yeah.” Minerva sniffled.

“Please tell me more Minerva. This is very important.” Cadance looked at her student. “Can you offer any details? I need for you to be brave.”

“I’ve had nightmares for a long time. I never remember them. They make me wet the bed. And sometimes I wake up with scratches or cuts. Never a bloody nose before.” Minerva sniffled.

Minerva paused.

“Sometimes I can remember scary faces in the dark, with red crystal eyes.” Minerva said, shivering in the hot bathwater.

“If I ever get my claws on whatever is doing this, I might do something bad.” Ivy said. “I’ve never wanted to hurt something before.” She confided.

The door opened behind Cadance. She turned.

And saw Hoodwink.

“I couldn’t eat anything knowing my friend was hurting.” Hoodwink said. “Shining brought me here.” She stood there, her lip quivering, her eyes shiny with held back tears.

“Get in.” Cadance said gently.

Hoodwink did as she was told, splashing into the bath. She wrapped her forelegs around Minerva and Ivy.

“We need lunar pegasi.” Ivy said. “There’s no lunar pegasi here. They keep us safe from shades.”

“I’m not sure that this was a shade Ivy,” said Cadance, “but I think you are correct. It is time for the crystal ponies to get over their fear. I will speak to Luna about getting some lunar guards posted in the Crystal Empire. Shining has been wanting them here for a long time.”

“I feel so ashamed.” Minerva said.

“Why?” asked Hoodwink.

“I peed the bed.” Minerva whined.

“So what.” Hoodwink said. “If something scared me that bad, I’d pee too. If something wants to eat me, it is going to eat a pee flavoured me, maybe even seasoned with a side of poop.”

Minerva giggled faintly.

A stream of bubbles rose from the water. Hoodwink and Minerva gasped.

“It’s safe!” Ivy cried. “Scales don’t make sparks in the water.”

“Oh gross!” Hoodwink shouted.

“Is that what I think it was?” Minerva asked, tears forgotten for the moment.

Cadance looked horrified, standing above them.

There was another violent mass of bubbles, this time much larger than the first, accompanied by a strange noise, like somepony blowing a flugelhorn under water.

“I was nervous.” Ivy tried to explain.

“It is only fair.” Minerva nodded with understanding.

“You smell worse than Brimstone.” Hoodwink said.

“Brimstone smells marvelous.” Ivy said distractedly.

Cadance smoothed her feathers. She was still feeling protective. Angry. But the worst, it seemed, was over. Her students were calming down and returning to their usual selves. She stood over them like a mother hen as they giggled about bubbles in the bathtub, and felt a little better.

She was going to get down to the bottom of this. Somepony was going to pay. Pegasi had long memories, and Cadance was a pegasus first, and an alicorn second.

Foalish Endeavors

“Shouldn’t we be studying?” Brimstone asked, causing his companions to groan. He walked with his head high, a new sense of pride evident. A few nights ago, he had been inducted into the guard. Sort of. He had been in an unusually good mood since.

“Not today Brimstone. Today, the lesson may come to us.” Cadance said cheerfully. Cadance was feeling a bit more like her usual self after the events of the other night. Not quite so murderous.

The group walked together. Four foals, one alicorn, with several unicorn and pegasi guard in tow.

“Usually, the crystal ponies are friendly bunch.” Cadance remarked. “Normally, when out and about, ponies come up and say hello.”

“I stink.” Brimstone commented, his mood unspoiled.

“No you don’t.” Ivy protested.

Brimstone rolled his eyes.

“I do not care about stink.” Cadance said. “I expect my ponies to be better mannered. I’m going to have to give a gentle reminder at some point about hospitality and graciousness. Ponies should feel loved when they visit the Crystal Empire. All ponies.”

“Something about this place.” Ivy said, leaning in on Brimstone. “Makes me feel funny.”

Brimstone stood stoically against Ivy invading his personal space. He’d given up some time ago.

“I just feel so good here.” Ivy said. “My scales tingle.”

“Ivy, I do not know what effect the Crystal Heart may have upon you, but upon ponies, it fosters a strong sense of love and affection. You are a chaotic creature, but you have a harmonious cutie mark, and you were raised in a home full of love and adoration.” Cadance smiled warmly. “It seems the Crystal Heart affects all creatures, not just harmonious ponies.”

“I’ve been all over Equestria and I’ve never seen a place like this.” Hoodwink said.

“I grew up here Winkie. It’s boring .” Minerva said.

“Minerva, you are awful.”

“Am not.”

Cadance sighed.

A crystal pegasus drew near them, watching the group intently, his nose crinkling. From a short distance away, he waved with a hoof and saluted with a wing. Cadance returned his salute. The pegasus then flew off, rising into the sky and vanishing.

“I do believe that was our weather captain.” A guard commented.

Hoodwink rushed forward to a fountain, raising up on her hind legs and resting her forelegs against the edge. “Crystal fish!” She announced. Her companions drew near to examine her find.

The fountain was full of crystal fish. Strange creatures, swimming around. Transparent. Odd. Hoodwink looked up from the fish and saw a crystal pony statue. Her ears fell back against her skull and her tail drooped. She began to look very afraid.

“Snap out of it Winkie.” Minerva said. “Don’t spoil the moment.” Hoodwink shook her head, causing her ears to flop around, as if she was trying to dislodge a troublesome thought. Minerva slipped a foreleg over Hoodwink’s shoulders.

The group continued on their walk, nearing the marketplace. Ivy began to drool.

“Stink alert.” Minerva said. “Something other than Brimstone must smell really bad.”

Ivy paused, leaning into the breeze, sniffing, her tail snapping out perfectly straight. She rose up on her hind legs, becoming bipedal. Sniffing.

“No, something does smell good.” Hoodwink said in Ivy’s defense. “I smell it too.”

Cadance sniffed. Something sweet. And smokey. Cadance felt her self drooling slightly and immediately took steps to regain her composure. People didn’t want a slobbering princess.

Ivy strode forward, still bipedal, causing some curious stares from a distance, her tail ramrod straight, her claws clicking on the crystal walkway.

The group followed Ivy as she led the way, her nostrils flared, eyes half closed, her tongue hanging down half the length of her body.

“Ivy,” Cadance said gently, “tongue.”

Ivy paid no attention. She was enraptured. She followed her nose forward, into the market, clutching her talons to her chest, her talon-fingers fidgeting fitfully as she sought the source of her delight. The ponies in the market gave her a wide berth.

And it wasn’t long before Ivy stopped in front of a market stall, a long ribbon of drool hanging from the corner of her mouth. A bright green earth pony stood behind the counter, smiling at her.

“You’re an earth pony.” Ivy said, slurping back drool.

“Sure am youngin, and yer lookin’ awful happy to be seein’ me.” The green earth pony grinned, eyeing the rest of the incoming group. “My name is Pine Apple. And this is my lunch counter.”

“I am Climbing Ivy, honourary Apple, loved by my aunt Applejack and Clan Apple of Ponyville.”

“Right pleased to meetcha cousin!” Pine Apple exclaimed.

Cadance smiled at the exchange.

“Something smells GOOD.” Ivy said, getting right to the point. She wiped her face with a foreleg, trying to remember her manners. “What is it? Never smelled anything like this before.”

The green earth pony smiled warmly at her customers, nodding to the princess.

“Pineapple burgers.” Pine Apple began. “Grilled pineapple burgers. A fat slice of pineapple, grilled over a searin’ flame, burnin’ it just right, . Slathered in a sweet tangy sauce, sprinkled with pine nuts, and served on a hot fresh buttered bun.” Pine Apple drawled.

Ivy could do nothing but drool. Brimstone helpfully reached up to wipe her mouth with a foreleg, and instantly regretted it, shaking his leg and hoof, slobber beading on his dingy yellow pelt.

“Ugh.” Brimstone mumbled.

“Would you like to try one?” Pine Apple asked, smiling warmly.

Ivy looked at Cadance pleadingly, eyes wide, using the saddest face she had, the one that could melt her father’s heart into goo.

It seemed that Cadance wasn’t immune to it either. Cadance was shocked by how quickly Ivy’s face shattered her resolve.

Cadance nodded.

“I’ll take a dozen!” Ivy said wetly.

Cadance sighed. Ivy’s appetite. She was definitely Twilight’s student.

“A dozen for Ivy,” Cadance agreed, “and some for everypony else as well.”

Several guards grunted in pleasant surprise.

Pine Apple chuckled and ducked back behind the counter to get to work.

Ivy paced, awaiting lunch.

A short while later….

The group sat around a collection of benches and tables, eating lunch. Cadance was trying to eat the sticky sandwich as delicately as possible. This was an awful idea, she reflected. Brimstone was completely unable to levitate his food, and had his muzzle stuffed into his sandwich, gnawing away. Hoodwink and Minerva had given up on levitation after a few messy bites and had followed Brimstone’s lead. Pegasi guards were scarfing and gobbling, the unicorn guards looking on in disgust.

And Ivy was up to her elbows in sticky sauce. There were pine nuts stuck to her antlers somehow. She was wearing down her pile of sandwiches with alarming speed.

But spirits were high. And that was important, Cadance reflected. A glob of sticky orange sauce squirted from her sandwich and dribbled down her chin. She gave a most unladylike grunt of annoyance, something pegasus in nature, causing several pegasus guards to snicker.

Minerva chewed a pine nut thoughtfully, her own light green muzzle covered in sticky orange sauce.

Hoodwink grew tired of trying to snip off bits of pineapple in each bite of bun and pulled out the remains of the pineapple slice. She held her prize in her teeth for a moment, before pulling in the entire remainder, causing her face to become slathered in sauce. She licked her muzzle enthusiastically, making wet sloppy sounds.

Cadance cringed. This had been a horrible idea. But working with foals was give and take. She tried to take another dainty bite, but her sandwich conspired against her. A rivulet of sauce dribbled down her chin, down her neck, and congealed onto her chest.

Cadance grew angry and gave up, suddenly savaging her sandwich in a most unladylike manner, sending sauce splattering everywhere.

A unicorn guard looked on in annoyance, a gobbet of sauce stuck to one ear. “Found your missing sauce, milady.” He said politely, looking upward at his ear.

Cadance shot him an unpleasant look as she devoted her effort toward destroying the insolent sandwich.

Cadance began to wonder if the sandwich was somehow magical in nature. The more she ate, the more sauce there seemed to be. It really was everywhere. She looked over at the stand. Pine Apple was leaning on the counter and speaking to other customers. Customers who did not know what they were in for. Customers that should be warned, Cadance reflected.

“If only you kept track of your lunch the same way you did your students milady.” The unicorn guard lamented, his face now freckled in sauce.

Cadance ignored him and scarfed down the last few bites of sandwich, feeling an odd sense of accomplishment.

Brimstone leaned back and wiped his muzzle with a sticky foreleg, causing sauce to smear up to his eyebrows. He looked at Minerva, who was still struggling with the last few bites. The pineapple had squirted out.

Hoodwink was gobbling the remains of her bun, the occasional crunch of pine nuts could be heard as she chewed.

Ivy was almost finished, working on her last sandwich. She was covered in sticky.

Cadance looked at the group, both students and guards, and realised that a return trip to the Crystal Spire was in order. They were going to have to march through the city splattered in orange sauce. She sighed. Shining Armor was going to tease her. Her reverie was interrupted by Brimstone’s sudden cry.

“Personal space Ivy!”

Ivy had her forelegs around Brimstone’s neck and was licking his face. Brimstone struggled against her grasp, but Ivy was a much stronger creature.

“Oh gross! Dragon drool!” Brimstone protested. “Somepony help me!”

No help seemed forthcoming.

Cadance felt her heart warm as she watched Ivy.

“Hold still!” Ivy said between licks.

“Ivy…” Cadance said, smiling.

Ivy paused, turning her head towards Cadance.

“You missed a spot on his ear.” Cadance said in a teasing tone. Ivy resumed her task.

Brimstone gave up on his futile efforts to shove Ivy away. “Your breath smells like smoke.” Brimstone said. “Like wood burning in a fireplace.”

Ivy said nothing, but kept licking, her tongue seemed to be the only thing that could actually remove the sticky sauce from something.

“I feel strangely damp.” Brimstone commented as nonchalantly as possible.

Ivy stopped when Brimstone was mostly clean.

Ivy hugged him one last time and pulled away, smiling shyly.

“Somepony has a filly friend.” Minerva said teasingly.

“I do not!” Brimstone retorted. “She’s a filly. And she’s my friend. And she’s a silly filly that just slobbered all over me. It’s probably just some bit of dragon culture that I am not yet acquainted with.”

Hoodwink giggled, licking her own lips.

Ivy tittered.

“I’m sticky.” Minerva announced suddenly.

“I believe we are all sticky.” A guard agreed, nodding.

“I was remarkably sticky free. For a short time.” Said the guard sitting next to Cadance. “And then something happened to change that.”

Cadance turned away, trying to look innocent.

“I feel a lot better, after everything that’s happened.” Minerva announced. She looked at her friends. “I’ve never done anything like this before, or had this much fun before I met all of you. It was worth being scared the other night.” Minerva paused, looking thoughtful. “It is nice knowing that my friends care about me.” She gestured to the world around her. “And sitting here, doing this, is a nice reminder of why friends are important. Bad times and good times. Friends stay together. You’ve been with me twice now, when I am sticky and gross…” she halted, looking puzzled, “there is more I want to say but I don’t know how to say it.”

Hoodwink gave Minerva a sticky hug, their coats making wet crinkly sounds as sticky patches of sauce connected.

“Friends stick together.” Brimstone said helpfully, causing the entire group to groan.

“Brimstone.” Cadance said, “I’m telling your mother.”

Brimstone cowered.

Celestia's Class

It was good to be back in Canterlot, Hoodwink reflected, walking down the hall with her companions. She liked it here. The Crystal Empire was a nice place, but Hoodwink prefered Canterlot. She didn’t know why. Other students trotted around them, filling the hallway with a cacophony of clopping hooves. Hoodwink felt nervous and overwhelmed, surrounded by all of the other unicorn foals. She found herself pressing against Minerva for comfort. Minerva gave her a knowing look and a smile, making Hoodwink feel better. Hoodwink heard the groans of students complaining about the sulfurous fumes in the hallway. She felt a brief twinge of anger, thinking about what Brimstone might be feeling.

It was strange, Hoodwink thought, about how little she noticed Brimstone’s smell now. It was a background smell. But one she paid attention to. If it suddenly became strong, it meant that Brimstone was sad. Or uncomfortable. Or angry. It meant that something had changed in his mind, and was a clear indicator that Brimstone needed somepony. He was often stony and stoic, but his scent gave him away, betraying his unseen change of emotions. Reading Brimstone was difficult, but there were always signs.

Minerva was easy to read. She displayed her emotions for all of the world to see and did nothing to hide them. Hoodwink considered her mother’s lessons on how to read other ponies, and how useful those lessons were now becoming. Minerva was entirely too easy to read. It was comforting though. Hoodwink never had to wonder where she stood with Minerva.

And then there was Ivy. Ivy was both simple and complicated. Ivy wasn’t exactly a pony, which made her body posture difficult, but it was pretty easy to figure Ivy out as Ivy squeezed all of the air out of you.

All in all, Hoodwink had good friends.

Ivy sat at her desk in the crowded classroom. She was counting ponies. It was something she had been doing a lot of lately. There were twenty one ponies in this room. She had counted. Four times. While waiting on Celestia. She started to count again, beginning with Brimstone. Minerva. Hoodwink. The pink unicorn filly next to Hoodwink. The white colt. Her claw pointed to each as she took them in.

“I know what you are doing.” Said a gentle voice in her ear.

Ivy very nearly leapt out of her skin. She sucked in a deep breath and tried not to cry out.

Celestia stood near her.

“What am I doing?” Ivy asked, her chest heaving.

“I’m sorry if I startled you.” Celestia said. “I’ve seen this same behaviour before.”

Ivy looked puzzled.

“You are counting your hoard.” Celestia stated, her tone soothing and gentle. “You are being a productive little dragon, counting your hoard, counting everything that is precious to you. I’ve seen Spike do the same thing. With comic books.”

Ivy felt a hot blush rise in her cheeks.

“My hoard?” She asked. “I’m not greedy. I’ve been warned. I’m very careful after Twilight warned me.”

“Hoarding ponies is good Ivy. Protect your hoard.” Celestia said, as she moved forward to stand before the class. “I will speak to you later about this.”

Ivy settled into her desk, trying to be comfortable. Hoarding ponies, she thought, her mind suddenly racing. Is that what she had been doing? She felt a twinge of worry and didn’t know why. She resolved to speak to Celestia later.

“Class.” Celestia spoke, the idle chatter instantly dying down. The room fell completely silent. Twenty one pairs of eyes focused on Celestia.

“Class, today we are going to learn about Starswirl’s unification theory. Can anypony tell me what it is?” Celestia looked out into the room expectantly.

No hooves were raised.

“Starswirl was a very clever pony. A long time ago, he began to study military records of the pegasi. He studied unicorns and a history of their horns. And do you know what he found?” Celestia asked, still hopeful.

Still, no hooves were raised.

“Starswirl determined that ponies were getting smaller. Unicorn horns had shortened. History made that clear. He had a hunch that pegasi were getting smaller. This worried Starswirl a great deal and he began to make a very detailed study, cataloging ponies all over Equestria. Can anypony guess why Starswirl was worried?”

Minerva raised her hoof. Celestia nodded.

“A smaller horn would mean less magic could be channeled.” Minerva said, her face thoughtful. “It would mean that over time, if horns were getting smaller, magic would be getting weaker. And smaller pegasi would have a hard time fighting tough storms or fighting battles with powerful enemies. If earth ponies became smaller, you would need more earth ponies to do the same amount of work that only a few could do.”

“Correct,” said Celestia, smiling, “Starswirl made this conclusion. And everypony laughed at him. But he stood by what he had said, ignoring the scorn of his peers. Starswirl theorised that the tribes coming together would be vital to the survival of our kind. Unification was not just a pleasant option, but vitally necessary if our species wanted to continue to exist.”

“And nopony believed him?” a filly foal asked.

“No,” said Celestia, shaking her head, “nopony believed him. But he continued taking notes and keeping records inspite of what others thought of him. And now, today, over a thousand years later, we can study Starswirl’s notes and records. And do you know what we have found?”

A blue colt raised his hoof. Celestia looked at him.

“That Starswirl was right?” The foal asked.

“Yes.” Stated Celestia, looking somewhat grim. “Ponies have been getting smaller. Unicorn horns are getting shorter. Pegasi are getting smaller and weaker. It takes almost twice as many earth ponies now to do the same amount of work. Our species has become little ponies. And we depend on each other for survival. It is doubtful that the tribes could separate and once again stand upon their own.”

“The Collective says otherwise.” A filly foal stated. “But I don’t believe them!” She added in a hurry, worried that her teacher might take offense.

Celestia stood silent for some time, saying nothing.

“This is why the lunar pegasi are so important.” Brimstone said, breaking the silence. “They’re still very large and powerful. But they are not really accepted into our society, which is shameful. We have unification of three tribes, but there are more than three tribes. We forget this too often.”

Celestia raised her head, looking fiercely proud for a moment.

“We have to come together.” Brimstone continued. “We have to learn to get past how a pony might look or any fears we have. It does not sound like we can afford exclusion any longer. There may come a day when the survival of our species may rest upon the shoulders of the lunar pegasi. Why should they fight and die to help us after the way so many ponies treat them?”

Brimstone licked his lips, his crimson eyes narrowing. looking nervous.

“Or Ivy. A lot of you say bad things about Ivy. You tease her. You say awful things. You are mean. You are heartless. You judge her based on how she looks, and all of you that do this should be ashamed. She is one of us. How would you feel if you were different?” Brimstone’s voice cracked into an angry squeak. “And you tease me. Sometimes, I am not entirely positive that we have come together as a species. Not in a meaningful way.”

Several foals in the classroom hung their heads.

Brimstone stared down at his desk, scowling angrily. He had more to say, but he choked back the angry words. He felt a familiar tail tip coil around his hind leg. He couldn’t bring his gaze to look at Ivy. Hot tears welled in his eyes, and, if he saw her, he might lose it completely. He felt a hoof on his shoulder.

“Thank you Brimstone.” Celestia said, in her usual gentle tone. “Brimstone is correct. Those of you who take delight in teasing others should be ashamed. Equestria is in troubled times, and we cannot afford to squabble amongst one another. Difficult times are ahead. And all of this talk of unicorn unity is foolishness. We need pony unity. I want you all to write a paper on this subject. What does unity mean and what can you do to support it? Why is it important? I want you to read the condensed notations on Twilight Sparkle’s friendship reports and think about how those concepts bring society together. I want a minimum of ten pages on this subject.”

There was a collective groan from the class.

“Only ten pages?” Brimstone protested. “Where am I going to fit my citations and sources in a ten page paper?”

“Brimstone, feel free to generate as many pages as you need.” Celestia said, a faint smile on her lips. “But you four, my special students, I want you to do your paper together. Unified. As one. I’ll expect sections offering each of your unique perspectives.”

Brimstone suddenly felt a whole lot better.

Fire and Snow

Nightfisher was brooding. It was a beautiful night to do so. By her side was Sunflower, silent, pressed up against her. Her wing was wrapped around him, holding him close as he shivered. Not far from them sat Hailstone.

They sat on top of the astronomy tower, silent, with no words needed to be spoken. Sunflower had learned to relish the silence. While he was not a lunar pegasi, he was loved by one.

“What’s that?” Hailstone asked, breaking the silence.

Nightfisher became alert. “What’s what?”

“I saw something shimmer in front of a star. Made the starlight go all weird. Like something passing in view.” Hailstone’s ears folded back. Her eyes narrowed.

Nightfisher peered ahead, straining to see.

“I see it!” Sunflower replied, his sharp stargazer’s eyes narrowing. “Something almost like a soap bubble.”

“Invisibility spell?” Asked Nightfisher. “We should be able to see through those in the moonlight.” Nightfisher felt panic rise through her. She took wing.

Her companions did the same.

Hailstone moved swiftly through the sky, flying toward the disturbance. It grew larger. Something shimmering as it passed in front of the stars.

Sunflower swooped, shouting an alarm to the courtyard below. He heard shouts in return.

Nightfisher’s wings tore through the air as she picked up speed, moving toward the unknown shimmering object. She was having trouble keeping up with Hailstone though. Nightfisher struggled to bring her immense bulk up to speed with Hailstone. Cries could be heard below. A bell rang.

There was a bright flash of light from below, and suddenly, Nightfisher saw what was ahead. A massive airship approached, silently moving through the skies over Canterlot, way too close to the castle. Some new cloaking spell had been invented.

Hailstone moved with alarming speed for her kind. She was an exceptionally large and powerful beast, second only to Nightfisher for sheer size, and she was a powerful flier. She could hear cries ahead on the airship. They knew they had been discovered. Hailstone could hear pegasi down below her, mobilising, taking to the skies.

The skies were suddenly filled with alicorns.

It alarmed Nightfisher, seeing so many of them. Her mind raced. She tried to think of a logical explanation. “Unicorns with wing spells!” Sunflower shouted. Nightfisher felt a sudden sense of relief. She could handle unicorns. She was born to fly. They were not.

The air was suddenly filled with spells. All around Nightfisher were different coloured orbs of light, streaming lightning, streams of luminescence arcing through the night.

Hailstone went right for the heart of the matter, going right for the airship. She was getting closer now. A lot of spells were coming her way. She shadow dove, becoming insubstantial, allowing them to pass. The first volley passed through her harmlessly.

The second did not.

Something ripped through her insubstantial cloud and caused her horrible pain, forcing her back into solid mass. As she reformed in the sky, another spell struck her. She was filled with agony.

Hailstone was on fire.

Nightfisher surged forward, her heart in her throat, her thoughts only on her best friend. Hailstone surged ever onward, toward the airship.

Hailstone tore through the sky. She knew she was in trouble. She was having trouble seeing. Her body was completely engulfed in flames.

“FALL BACK!” She cried to Nightfisher. “FALL BACK! AVENGE ME!” Hailstone shouted.

Nightfisher realised with dawning horror what Hailstone was planning. She banked, turning as fast as she dared. She snatched Sunflower out of the air with her forelegs, hugging him close, and dove toward the ground in a dead fall.

Hailstone was flying blind. Spell after spell tore through her body. She felt a leg tear free. She didn’t care. Her wings still worked. Her echolocation still worked. And something large loomed in front of her. She was having trouble breathing, but that didn’t matter. She could function without air for a considerable amount of time.

A spell struck her wing, causing her to slow. Still, she pressed onward, now with only half a wing on one side, burning bright in the sky, visible to those below, streaming fire behind her like a meteor entering the atmosphere.

Hailstone finally felt at peace with the world. It was glorious. She was beyond pain now. Untouchable. Unstoppable.

She was Mare Frigoris, her final thought racing through her mind. She was Mare Frigoris and she was going to make a good accounting of herself.

Below, ponies stared upward as a burning streak shot through the heavens and collided with the gasbag of the airship. Night suddenly became day. Every window in Canterlot shattered. The skies filled with fire, burning wreckage and debris raining down below. The sound was deafening. A fiery roar filled the night sky.

Nightfisher screamed as her skin blistered from the sudden wash of heat. She did her best to shield Sunflower from the enormous fireball. She heard him scream. As the flames passed over them, she banked again, realising that the ground was entirely too close.

She flew on blistered wings, finally daring to open her eyes once the horrible heat had finally passed. Sunflower’s wings were on fire, the feathers had ignited. She flew as fast as possible, angling toward the lake.

The air began to become strangely quiet, sound fading away from them. Nightfisher was puzzled. Adrenaline coursed through her body. She was in agony.

The sounds of this horrible night grew quieter.

Her best friend had just perished and the love of her life was burning. She needed water. And now. Her own flesh sizzled.

She pushed her body even harder, grief and rage thudding in her brain, her heart racing.

There was another explosive thud over Canterlot and the sky filled with a blue white nova.

Nightfisher felt a strange sensation as the night around her went completely quiet and she realised she had just shattered the sound barrier. The air burned around her, tearing into her blistered skin. The lake drew near. Fast, too fast. Nightfisher fought to slow down.

Sound slowly returned to her ears as she hurtled through the night. The water was close now. She could see the moon reflected in it. It was going to be a rough landing.

Sunflower was still screaming, writhing in her forelegs. She hoped that something would be left to save of his wings.

They collided with the water with a splash…

Elsewhere…

The halls were filled with shouting, Panic. Strange unicorns, some of them with wings, which caused some of the students to believe that strange alicorns were invading. Confusion reigned.

Brimstone came crashing through the door, causing three fillies to jump. He stood in the door. “Trouble!” He shouted.

There was a massive explosion overhead. The balcony window shattered, causing Minerva and Hoodwink to scream out in alarm. Ivy growled.

“We must stay together!” Brimstone shouted above the noise.

Flaming wreckage landed on the balcony. Minerva screamed again. There was a burned body in the wreckage. Hoodwink stared in horror.

“Come on! We have to get out of here. We must get to my mother’s quarters. We’ll be safe!” Brimstone took charge.

There was a stampede in the hallway. Students ran. Unicorns were firing spells, engaged in combat with the guards. Other unicorns were snatching up foals in their magic and then disappearing.

Foalnapping! Brimstone thought. He began to panic slightly.

“Twilight’s abomination!” A voice shouted. Brimstone turned. A pack of unicorns were bearing down on him. “I knew we’d find it here.”

Brimstone’s world suddenly became one of pain. He couldn’t tell which way was up or down. He could no longer tell if he was standing. Or if he was even alive. Lights danced in his vision.

“Silvermane spell mirror!” Minerva shouted, leaping onto Hoodwink’s back. A shimmering shiny bubbled surrounded the two fillies. An incoming spell struck the bubble and was reflected back towards the caster. The unicorn fell, unmoving.

Ivy felt something tight around her neck and something ripped her away from the ground, lifting her high into the air. The invisible thing around her neck tightened. She struggled to breathe, her claws tearing at her own neck as she tried tear away whatever was strangling her. She struggled, kicked and panicked, her tail lashing through the air, trying to find whatever was responsible for this assault. Strange lights began to float in front of her eyes. The sounds of struggle grew distant. Ivy felt sleepy. Her body writhed, her wings fluttered, and something continued to tighten around her neck.

Brimstone struggled to his feet, his vision blurry. He couldn’t tell what was going on. He strained his eyes, trying to gain his senses.

He saw a shape in front of him. It was blurry, indistinct. He willed his eyes to work, remembering his mother’s many lessons about control.

He saw Ivy. She clawed at her neck, being strangled by some invisible force. Years of repressed rage boiled through Brimstone. He tried to hold back. He struggled, knowing the consequences. “No…” He cried, pleading with himself, hoping he could hold it in.

He lost his battle.

The hallway begin to fill with green gas.

Hoodwink saw the green fumes and ran, Minerva still on her back, clinging to her. Minerva’s strange spell had protected them from spellfire, but Hoodwink wasn’t sure about the gas. Hoodwink ran towards the sounds of guards battling further down the hallway, near where the exit that lead to the classrooms was. She hoped that the guards could help.

Brimstone stood in the cloud of death, utterly immune. All around him the invading unicorns died, strangling, gasping, seeking air and finding none. They died and their magic died with them. Ivy fell to the floor with a thump.

Ivy lay on the floor, unmoving.

Brimstone approached her slowly, wishing that he had never been born. He stood over her, looking down.

And heard a strangling wheeze. Ivy’s talons lifted and waved near her throat.

“Ivy?” Brimstone begged. “Please be OK! Speak to me!”

Ivy gurgled, unable to speak. She was breathing though, Brimstone noted, taking in the terrible toxic fumes. Ivy’s eyes were bloodshot. A trickle of blood dribbled from her nose. Her mouth was open wide and she struggled to take in breath.

Ivy was alive.

Brimstone kneeled down. “Ivy, we have to get out of here. Come on Ivy, give me a hug and hold on. I’ll get us to safety, if there is any.”

Feeling Ivy’s forelegs wrap around his neck was the greatest feeling in the world, Brimstone thought to himself. Her long body was slung over his. He rose to his hooves. He took off at a trot, trying not to bounce Ivy to much, Ivy’s tail dragging on the ground behind him. Her raspy breath was in his ear. But she was warm and alive against his coat, he could feel scaley patches rubbing against him.

He stepped over the body of a dead unicorn, and then over the body of a guard. The guard was horribly burnt, the armor blackened. He wasn’t sure where Minerva and Hoodwink were. He hoped they were OK.

Elsewhere…

Hoodwink had stumbled into a pitched battle. Guards and teachers were fighting in the hall. Pegasi tried to shield the unicorn guards and teachers as best as they could. The invaders had greater numbers, and spells flew up and down the hall. The invaders had holed up in the study hall, and took potshots from around the corner.

Hoodwink dove behind a table turned up on its side, Minerva still on her back, Minerva’s spell still shielding both of them. A teacher Hoodwink did not know pulled both of them close, happy to see them, trying to shield them.

A spell thudded against the table, causing Minerva to shriek. Smoke began to fill the air. A group of pegasi surged forward from cover, hoping to root out the enemy. Hoodwink heard horrible screaming.

And then nothing.

Hoodwink thought about wetting herself.

“Minerva,” she asked, “How strong is that bubble?”

“I don’t know,” answered Minerva, “should be good for a few more shots. Every Silvermane can cast a spell mirror. I think it was the first spell I learned.”

“It’ll have to do…” Hoodwink muttered, leaving the safety of cover.

“Get back here!” The teacher shouted.

Hoodwink ran down the hall, trying to dodge spellfire. It was coming in fast and heavy. One spell struck the bubble and was reflected.

Good thing Minerva was not a fat filly.

Hoodwink took the corner too fast and skidded into the classroom wing proper. She ran towards the arch that led into the hallways of the school. On either side of the arch were statues. One of Celestia, one of Luna. Solid stone. Lifesized. Reared up on their hind legs, they stood guard at the entrance to the classrooms.

Hoodwink strained and struggled with her magic. Control, she thought. Control. Her horn flared brightly, an orange glow filling the dim hallway.

The statues creaked to life. They dropped down to four legs. Stone wings fluttered and folded against their stone bodies.

Hoodwink willed the statues forward. They followed her, stone hooves thudding against the stone floor. She cautiously approached the place of pitched battle, peering around a corner. Both sides were still pinned down and exchanging fire.

She sent the statues forward, willing them toward the invaders. They were puppets, Hoodwink reflected. Just very large stone puppets.

Spells blasted the statues but did very little damage. The statues lumbered slowly forward, wings flaring out, heads thrashing about.

Hoodwink closed her eyes and cried when she heard screams coming from down the distant hall. She felt Minerva squeeze her gently. There were wet splattering sounds. Squishing sounds. Eventually, the screaming stopped. Silence filled the hall. Terrible silence.

Hoodwink strode forward, the guards and teachers staring at her.

Two bloody statues stood waiting down the hall for Hoodwink’s next command.

Elsewhere…

Nightfisher struggled to crawl out of the water. Sunflower was already standing on the shore, shaking himself off.

The damage to his wings wasn’t as bad as it looked. Many feathers had been burned away, but the flesh was intact. He wouldn’t be able to fly for a while.

The air was unseasonably cold, and ash fell from the sky, Nightfisher noted.

No, not ash, Nightfisher realised as she struggled to shore.

It was snowing. The cold flakes landed on her nose and clung to her pelt. The air was filled not with ash, but snowflakes. Nightfisher stumbled in the hoof deep water and fell with a cry, sobbing. Her best friend was gone. And all that was left was snowflakes. She shivered in the freezing air. She lay there in the shallow water, weeping. Sunflower stood near, his head low, his muzzle close to Nightfisher’s.

“Canterlot is burning.” He said, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Nightfisher struggled to raise her head. She turned, looking upward. Much of the city proper was on fire, probably caused by the falling burning debris. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She struggled to her feet, still sobbing.

Snow continued to fall.

Elsewhere…

Brimstone strode through empty hallways. It was strangely quiet. Ivy squirmed on his back, sometimes making croaking noises. She hadn’t been able to talk. Brimstone was worried about this, but it was a minor worry.

Ivy was still alive and was seemingly immune to his strangling gas. One of the many benefits of being part dragon Brimstone supposed.

There was a loud crash from somewhere. Brimstone jumped slightly. He was jittery and his nerves were frazzled. He was trying not to think too much. He had killed some ponies. It gnawed at the back of his mind. He tried to hold it back. Now was not the time to lose control again. There’d be time to be upset about it later. To cry about it later. With his mother. But right now was not the time.

He heard angry cries and shouted commands. He hoped the voices were friendly, or there would be trouble. He was ready for trouble he decided. He’d already gassed a few ponies this night. He could cry over a few more. If one more unicorn laid spells on Ivy, Brimstone was going to let go. Let everything out. Years and years of repression, rage, anger, and every other awful thing that rattled around in his head. No sense holding back now.

He trotted forward, feeling his magic surging through his brain, ready to flow through his horn. His horn glowed with a noxious green light that filled the hallway with a sickening luminescence. He didn’t know that he could cast a light spell. This was new. But it was not a healthy looking light. It made the walls look like they had somehow contracted a stomach flu.

He rounded the corner, feeling confident. He felt one of Ivy’s talons wrapped around his ear, and each of his bouncing steps caused her to tug it gently. Her tail had coiled around one of his hind legs after it had recovered.

He cleared his throat. He felt that he owed a warning to those ahead, hoping that potential trouble would see reason and flee. He was not in a mood to be messed with.

“I am Brimstone, colt of Luna. Leave me in peace or I will kill you. I am not one to be trifled with.” He announced, his voice echoing down the corridor. “My mother calls me her sweet creeping death.” He added.

“Brimstone?” A voice echoed back.

Brimstone froze, not sure if he recognised the voice.

“Brimstone, are you OK?” The voice echoed again.

It was closer now.

“Brimstone, answer me, or so help me I will tell your mother you little fart stain!”

Brimstone’s heart thudded against his ribs.

“Mare Nectaris!” He shouted, now running forward, causing Ivy to bounce on his back. He slowed when he heard her pained wheezing. Tears began to flow down his cheeks.

He came to a skidding halt when he saw Mare Nectaris.

She was bloody and battered, one wing hung limply at her side. One eye was swollen shut. She looked horrible.

Behind her was Palus Somni, also a bloody mess. An ear was half gone. His coat was sooty and grey. On his back a sooty lavender body was draped.

Brimstone felt his heart in this throat.

Several other lunar pegasi stood near.

“Is she…” Brimstone asked, his voice dying.

“Alive.” Mare Nectaris said. “And mostly OK. She had a magic surge. Blacked out after casting a big spell. Saved about a hundred or so guards when she stopped a flaming airship from dropping on our heads. Well, about half an airship. It exploded.”

“We must find mother.” Brimstone said.

“Last I saw her, she was in the skies over Canterlot trying to stop the city from burning down. Celestia too.” Mare Nectaris groaned faintly, favouring a leg.

Brimstone felt relieved. “So what now?” He asked.

“I keep you safe, so your mother doesn’t mount my head on a spike somewhere.” Mare Nectaris answered. “How is Ivy?”

“I don’t know…” said Brimstone, worry in his voice, “A unicorn strangled her using manipulation magic. She can’t talk.”

Mare Nectaris suddenly looked very serious.

“Brimstone?” She questioned.

“I gassed a whole bunch of unicorns. They called her ‘Twilight’s abomination’ and tried to kill her. Ivy is immune to my strangling gas. I think. She didn’t die from it.” Brimstone took a deep breath and held his composure. “I think they knew where to look for her.”

Mare Nectaris snorted. “Ivy’s made of the same stuff we are.” She announced.

“Mare Nectaris…” Brimstone started to say.

Mare Nectaris watched as Brimstone tumbled to the floor.

Aftermath

“So Brimstone shouts ‘My mother calls me her sweet creeping death’ and I was never more proud of him than I was at that moment.”

The voice made Brimstone’s head throb painfully. Moonshine was entirely too loud. The smell of smoke lingered in the air. Brimstone could see daylight as he tried to pry his eyes open. Something warm was pressed against him.

It was Ivy.

He could feel her breathing.

His tongue felt dry and clung to the roof of his mouth. Everything hurt. All over. Every joint, every muscle, every spot of his dingy yellow hide.

He saw something blurry and blue.

“Brimstone?” He heard his mother’s voice.

He felt his head lifted with magic, magic cool and tingling against his feverish skin. He felt a glass of water against his lips. He drank.

He felt better.

“Mother.” He finally said.

He opened his eyes, blinking against the light. He saw some worried faces.

“Brimstone, I cannot stay. There is much to do. But I wanted to check on you. I am so glad to see you are well. We shall talk later.” Luna said. Her voice sounded strained.

And then she was gone with a pop.

“Brimstone?” Moonshine’s voice was full of worry.

“What Moonshine?” Brimstone untangled himself from Ivy. He slid out of the bed.

“I just wanted to hear your voice again and know that you are OK. You rotten little fart stain.”

Brimstone smiled in spite of himself. “How is Ivy?” He asked.

“Ivy is fine. She was awake and able to talk in a whisper earlier. She said something about finally being a damsel in distress. I couldn’t make it all out. Her voice is really messed up something awful. But Ivy will be OK. Dragons and dragon-kin are made of tougher stuff.” Moonshine smiled. “Through the door over there.” She added.

Brimstone excused himself as he entered the restroom.

Elsewhere and somewhat later…

Hoodwink poked at her breakfast. Minerva sat next to her. They were in Celestia’s private quarters. Neither one had any idea what was going on.

“I want to see Ivy and Brimstone.” Minerva sounded on the verge of tears.

Hoodwink nodded.

“Hoodwink, please talk to me, I need to hear your voice.” Minerva said, sniffling.

“I did bad things again.” Hoodwink said, staring at her oatmeal.

“Stop saying that!” Minerva screamed.

Hoodwink looked up from her breakfast, her expression dull. Minerva stared at her for a moment, and then tackled her, hugging her fiercely.

This seemed to snap Hoodwink out of her funk slightly.

They heard voices outside the door, the clopping of hooves. The door opened.

Ivy and Brimstone entered the room. Minerva quickly let go of Hoodwink, ran, tackled Ivy, and gave her a dose of her own medicine, squeezing. Hoodwink stood there, still in shock, watching.

“I thought we lost you Ivy.” Hoodwink said, emotion finally seeping to the surface. She stood on trembling legs. “I feel so bad for leaving you. The hall was filled with gas. We had to go. I had to get Minerva out of there. Brimstone, don’t say you’re sorry. Please. No saying sorry. No need.”

Brimstone stood, silent, unsure of what to say. Hoodwink strode forward slowly and placed a foreleg around his neck, hugging him. He felt better.

Hoodwink gasped in surprised as she was blindsided by Ivy’s tackle. Ivy squeezed. Things started to feel right in the world again.

Elsewhere and later…

Luna fumed. Angry. There were lots of sleeping prisoners, sedated with magic. Before dawn, she had already combed their minds somewhat, gaining only minor details. Phantom had worked some of them over quite well, creeping into their minds, trying to find what he could. Other lunar pegasi with the gift had also been in and out, hunting for leads.

Nothing. Not a thing. None of them were actually the Collective. Just unicorns who wanted a better world. For unicorns. Unicorns hoping that a grand and noble gesture, like invading Canterlot, would gain them the attention of the Collective. No hints of where the foalnapped foals had gone either. Nothing.

Luna hoped that more could be learned but she feared that they had already reached a dead end. The collective remained as elusive as smoke.

“I want their horns removed.” Luna said angrily. “Permanently. Time to reopen the prison for former unicorns.”

“You can’t mean that.”

Luna whirled on Twilight Sparkle.

“Twilight,” Luna said patiently, “It may become necessary before this is over. Blackenshire was broken into last night as well. The inmates have been released. Our enemy, clever and elusive as they are, took advantage of the chaos last night. Over twenty foals dead. More than a hundred unicorn foals missing. Over a hundred guard dead, both lunar and solar. Hundreds and hundreds dead in the city, with more bodies being found every hour. Parts of the castle are a smoking ruin. Somepony tried to kill Ivy because she is your student and they wanted to hurt you. They called her an abomination.”

Twilight stood, thoughtful, trying to choose her words carefully. She had been in dangerous situations before. She thought about all of the adventures she had been on with her friends. In every situation she could think of, very few things had actually tried to kill them. Discord turned them against one another. Nightmare Moon had been content to monologue. Sombra was no real threat. The changelings, for all the danger they had caused, didn’t actually want them dead. They needed food. Twilight realised that very few things had ever tried to actually kill her. Until recently. Things had changed, Twilight reflected.

“I agree Luna.” Twilight said.

“What?” Luna said in disbelief.

“I agree. I believe that it has become necessary. I was not aware of Blackenshire. If we cannot keep dangerous unicorns contained, then we may have to resort to more drastic measures. I don’t like them, and the idea makes my skin crawl, but we must keep ponies safe.”

Luna nodded. As she did so, a scroll poofed into existence near her horn.

She snatched it in her magic with a frustrated snarl. She snapped the scroll open, her eyes moving, taking in the words. As she did, the air crackled with ozone.

Twilight felt her mane standing on end.

Luna let the scroll drop to the floor. She stood there, shoulders slumped, wings drooping, her head dropping low.

Twilight brushed a wingtip against Luna’s cheek. “What happened?” She asked, fearing the answer.

“The harbours in both Horseshoe Bay and Vanhoover have been set ablaze. Many ships were sunk in port. Pegasi weather teams are still combating the blazes. The factories that make manipulation shoes in Baltimare have been put to the torch. Do you know what this means Twilight?”

Twilight’s mind reeled. Manipulation shoes were vital to pony society. It was how pegasi and earth ponies were able to handle things with their hooves. The minor manipulation fields allowed for all kinds of dexterous actions to take place, such as grasping and holding. The shoes didn’t last forever, the charge wore down over time, requiring the shoes to be replaced regularly.

And now the supply was gone. The great leveler that allowed pegasi and earth ponies to live comfortable lives and deal with objects that unicorns took for granted. The shoes allowed society to function in equal parts. Many unicorns wore them as well, unicorns with minor magic that could barely lift a sheet of paper with their magic.

Twilight stood agape.

“Horrifying, isn’t it?” Luna asked.

Twilight stared at the scroll.

“How will bakers bake?” Twilight said, her brain failing to come up with anything better to express the dire situation.

“There is going to be famine.” Luna said. “Equestria was crippled last night. Dealt a blow that I am not sure we can recover from any time soon. When Celestia hears about this…” Luna’s words failed her.

Twilight fled the room. She departed suddenly and swiftly, running through the door. She ran down the hallway, deep in the bowels of Canterlot. The new and hidden section under the castle that had been added after the changeling invasion, rediscovered when Twilight and Cadance had been cast down below.

The halls echoed with her hoofbeats.

She stopped finally after running her panic out of her system. She stood there, sides heaving, mind reeling, taking it all in.

“Twilight Sparkle?”

Twilight whirled. She saw a ghostly figure approaching.

“Palus Somni.” She said, trying to muster up whatever was left of her good graces. “Thank you for saving me last night. I owe you my gratitude.”

“I had hoped to speak with you.” He stood, still sooty and grey, dirty, the remains of his ear scabbed over.

“Now is not the best time.” Twilight said.

“Now may be the only time.” Palus Somni answered. “Many are dead. Many more will probably die. We are not promised another day.”

Twilight chewed her lip.

“Twilight Sparkle.” He said, moving forward.

Twilight began to back up. Fear gripped her. Odd fear. Twilight ran out of room, her backside brushing up against the hallway wall.

Palus Somni continued forward, leaning his head down. He reeked of smoke. And sweat.

Twilight tried to say something, and found that she could not.

Palus Somni drew closer. He kissed her gently on the cheek, there, in the dark, deep in the bowels of Canterlot.

“One of my best friends died last night.” He said, his voice a soft whisper. “Many others that I knew also died. I have lived in fear too long. I don’t want to die leaving certain matters unresolved. I hope you will forgive me. I hope you do not take offense.” He backed away, bowing his head. “I exist to serve.” He added, starting to turn away.

“Phantom.” Twilight said.

Phantom turned.

“When everything calms down, when there is breathing room, when this dreadful moment passes, we’ll talk.” Twilight said.

Phantom bowed again and then raised his tattered wing in salute. He stood there for a long moment.

And then he vanished into the dark, becoming one with the shadow. Gone.

Twilight shivered. She knew Palus Somni. She knew what he did. She knew his function. It used to frighten her. He still frightened her.

Only now there was a strange sense of comfort there too. Palus Somni would be needed in the near future.

Twilight stood in the dark, remembering what she had been told about last night. One of two things might have happened. She might of died, or she might have taken her first steps towards being an immortal. Neither option appealed to her. After her collapse, Phantom had gone to catch her body at great personal risk to himself, in a race against those who might kill her, and against Twilight crashing into the earth. Her surge had knocked her out while hundreds of feet in the air. Many had flown to collect Twilight as a trophy.

Phantom had killed most of them. Some of them had lived after crashing into the earth, asleep. They were in Luna’s care now for the time being.

Twilight shivered again.

Her and Cadance both had no desire to be immortal.

Phantom had potentially saved her from a fate worse than death. She wanted to live now, more than ever.

Twilight trotted off. She needed to see the sun. There was much to do.

Elsewhere and later…

Four foals slumbered in a pile with a large snoring lunar pegasus. The foals had each slept a little, but now slumbered a deep and restful sleep. Moonshine snorted fitfully and flicked her tail occasionally. She was like a dragon napping over its hoard. They were sprawled on the rug in Celestia’s chambers. Celestia would complain that Moonshine had plopped her filthy stinking carcass onto the rug, but Celestia complained about everything that Moonshine did.

Except for keeping ponies safe that is. Celestia was clear on that point. Moonshine was brutally effective at her job. And for that, all else could be and would be forgiven. Every crass vulgarity could be looked over.

A figure stood at the door…

Celestia entered her chambers. She was mentally exhausted. She looked and saw a pony pile on her rug. She sighed heavily, but saying nothing, not wanting to wake the sleepers.

Celestia remembered Moonshine as a foal, a foal of one of the few lunar pegasi families that remained in Canterlot before Luna’s return.

It was a troublesome memory, like all of her memories of Moonshine. Celestia remembered the day that Moonshine’s parents had presented Moonshine to Celestia. The foal was bright. Curious. And full of mischief.

The foal had asked how Celestia kept poop stains off of her while coat. Nopony had ever asked Celestia that. Even Discord had never been that brazen.

Celestia desperately needed rest. She didn’t actually need sleep, but she needed time to focus her mind and regain her magic. She was drained. And sleep restored things quickly, rather than the gradual restoration over time.

She eyed her bed.

She carefully moved through the room, trying to not wake the sleepers. She paused near the pony pile. She eased herself down upon the floor, pressing up against the foals, sandwiching them between her and Moonshine. A pony pile was a rare luxury for Celestia, and she intended to take advantage of it, it was one of the few things she genuinely craved from time to time.

She felt Ivy stir slightly, and a faint snort from Hoodwink. Something cuddled against her wing. She stretched out her long swan like neck and rested her head against Moonshine’s broad neck.

In seconds, Celestia was asleep.

Elsewhere and later…

Nightfisher lay in a bed in the hospital wing, deep under Canterlot. Sunflower was there with her, in a bed right beside her. Somepony had been kind enough to shove the two beds together. They were staring at one another for time being.

“You dunked me in the lake again.” Sunflower finally said, breaking the silence.

“I know.” Nightfisher said.

“Nightfisher, would you like to spend the rest of your life dunking me in the lake?” Sunflower asked, his voice low. “I’d really be happy if you did.”

Nightfisher smiled weakly. She was heavily drugged. Her pupils couldn’t figure out which size to be.

“I’m hideous.” She finally answered. “You can do better.”

“No I can’t.” Sunflower said. “And you’re not hideous. So what if you are a little burned. So am I.”

“You’re singed.” Nightfisher corrected. “I’m burnt. All over. Crispy. Flash fried buzzard.” Nightfisher’s voice wavered.

“I don’t care.” Sunflower said. He wiggled his head closer.

“If you get fresh with me I’ll dunk you in the lake again.” Nightfisher warned.

“That’s what I want.” Sunflower said.

Nightfisher began to sob suddenly.

Sunflower gazed at her.

“It snowed for hours.” Nightfisher said, sniffling.

“I know.” Sunflower said. “Hailstone is gone from us. I’m going to miss her terribly. She was an excellent broodmate.”

Nightfisher’s sobs died down a bit upon hearing Sunflower’s compliment. It was something few solar ponies could ever understand. She looked at him, her drugged mind struggling to think, feeling a rush of emotion.

“I’m going to spend the rest of my life dunking you in the lake.” She said, her words slightly slurred. “I want fat little foals. Equestria is going to need foals. And soon. I sense trouble coming. Bad trouble. I’ve hunted all my life and suddenly, I feel like prey.”

Sunflower considered Nightfisher’s words. “We’ll have to brood over it together.”

“You always know just what to say.” Nightfisher said. “I’m so burnt.”

Sunflower looked at her as she changed the subject. “I don’t care about that. I still have you. I’ve lost a broodmate. I don’t want to lose you. I’m content to have you. And the doctor said you’ll heal. Your kind always comes back stronger.”

Nightfisher’s eyes closed and she began to doze lightly.

Sunflower continued to gaze upon her face for hours.

Elsewhere and later…

Luna trotted wearily to her sister’s chambers, hoping to find Celestia. There was much that Celestia needed to know.

No Collective. Out of all this anarchy, not one lead had presented itself as of yet. One brazen group of highly skilled unicorns had gathered, seized a passenger airship, and had invaded Canterlot, all to impress a group that nopony was actually sure existed. Most of the sleeping survivors had been former students of Celestia, a fact that troubled Luna. This group had been well organised unto themselves. They had struck in several places at once, hoping to impress the Collective with their skill.

From what Luna had gathered, the sleepers themselves weren’t entirely sure the Collective existed. But most of them hoped that it did. They had grand dreams. Dreams of grinding other ponies beneath their hoof. Of being rewarded and placed in a grand and noble position. Even with their doubts, they had acted as true believers, hoping that their risky plan would see fruition and they would be rewarded.

Luna wasn’t even sure what they had hoped to do regarding two angry immortal alicorns who were bound to take offense.

It didn’t make sense.

Most of the sleepers were completely unaware of the foalnapping. The few that knew anything seemed surprised to have seen the foals and their foalnappers vanish. There seemed to have been no plan for that. Yet the foals were gone. Spirited away. Powerful magic had taken place. Long distance teleportation, with multiple foals in tow. How? Luna could not make sense of it.

Luna halted in mid-trot. She stood on three legs. What if the brazen invaders were completely unaware of the foalnappers in their ranks? Perhaps the foalnappers had taken advantage of the night’s events to come and spirit foals away. Perhaps the foalnappers were the Collective, and they had taken advantage of the chaos, with no intention of ever going back to reward and gather those who had served them. Perhaps, the Collective had gotten wind of last night’s plans, infiltrated the ranks of those who sought to join them, and had used them to distract and aid in their escape.

Luna’s mind reeled. This seemed a little too crazy, too chaotic. For her anyway. Luna was going to have to speak to a friend of hers, and see what he made of the chaos. Discord’s magic was gone, but his mind was still thousands and thousands of years old and sharp as a tack when properly focused and motivated.

Luna had the motivation. A bunch of pathetic creatures had attacked something that he loved dearly and very nearly killed her. Discord would be most attentive, highly focused, and eager to help Luna guessed.

Luna sighed. Discord was aging now. Slowly. But Luna could see the passage of time. He had once been her sworn enemy and now he was a dear friend. Occasional confidant. And one creature that she trusted without reservation.

She resumed her walk.

She considered Brimstone. Brimstone was likely to be fragile for a while she thought. He had killed. And he was old enough to know that he had killed. It was bound to weigh on his mind. Luna felt a twinge of pity. It was going to be a difficult burden to bear for both of them. Luna could tolerate a lot of things in life, but seeing her foal suffering was one thing she couldn’t bear. This was going to weigh heavily on her mind for quite some time as he came to terms with what he had done.

Celestia would have this burden as well. It was the most difficult lesson to lesson to teach any student. How to deal with taking a life.

Luna pondered Celestia having to pull Twilight aside and take her under her wing again as a student, and it hadn’t been all that long ago. It was painful for Celestia to teach Twilight Sparkle one more lesson. Twilight had been nearly inconsolable. Twilight had been an adult.

Hoodwink was a foal.

Luna shivered, thinking of Hoodwink.

Lots of ponies could enchant things. Enchantment magic was useful. It was a common school of magic that assisted with day to day life. Hoodwink’s talent was enchantment. Much in the same way that Twilight Sparkle’s talent was magic.

Hoodwink could go either way. She could wind up like Sunset Shimmer… Or she could become like Twilight Sparkle. Hoodwink’s future was uncertain, but the potential was there. Celestia wouldn’t bother otherwise. Celestia could be training Equestria’s next great defender, or Equestria’s next great villain.

Luna considered an army of enchanted stone statues and what they could do. A cold feeling crept along her spine.

She hurried down the hall, nodding at a group of guards. Scorch marks blackened the walls.

A scroll popped into the air before her. She tore it open. She read the paper. Several times, trying to take it in. She incinerated the scroll into an ash pile in rage. Just before dawn, Manehatten harbour had been put to the torch. There goes the shipping industry, she thought. They were going to have to rely on airships even more now, and airships were explosive.

She muttered as she stalked down the hall, her hooves thudding heavily, her shoes striking up sparks. The corner of her eye twitched alarmingly. The air reeked of ozone.

As she passed a waterfall fountain, it began to boil.

Luna tried to calm her self. It wouldn’t do her any good to be this angry when she talked to her sister. Luna needed comforting. Her strength was nearly depleted.

There was an enormous cluster of guards in front of her sister’s door. They saluted as she approached.

One shushed her. She seethed with rage but said nothing. Celestia was asleep. Celestia deserved some sleep. Luna regretted what she was about to do, but Celestia would just have to wake up.

Luna gently pushed open the door. She didn’t want her sister to get the wrong idea.

Before her was a pony pile. Luna froze.

Moonshine lay slumbering on the rug. Celestia lie close to her. Four foals were sandwiched between the slumbering giants.

Luna’s rage melted away. She suddenly felt exhausted.

She took her place next to her sister in the pony pile, thankful for this rare moment of comfort. She felt Celestia’s wing close over her, as they had done when they were small foals themselves. It didn’t take long before the Princess of the Night lay in slumber.

Homecoming

The sun rose and set, as did the moon. The sun rose and fell several times. Celestia believed in routine, fixed constants that ponies could rely upon and feel that life was normal. So the sun continued to move as it always had, marking the passage of days.

The dead had needs, and those were looked after. The living had needs as well. And those were met. Heartbroken colts and fillies spent much needed time with parents. Celestia had spared no effort, using the guard to fly precious packages back home to spend a day with parents. A much needed day of respite. And then school was back in session.

Routine was important. And it would not be broken. It was vitally important Celestia felt, to go back to the way things were, believing that strength could be shown only by a return to day to day life, not by shows of militaristic force.

No, Luna took care of that. Word had spread. Letters had been sent to parents, brothers, sisters, terrible letters to let them know that a loved one had fallen in the line of duty. The lunar pegasi in particular, took these letters badly. They took loss personally, an affront to their peculiar sense of honour. After a brief time spent brooding, remembering those lost, brothers, sisters, cousins, sometimes even parents took long journeys to Canterlot, returning from the dark and dangerous corners of the earth, where they had spent a long exile, perfecting their craft.

The lunar pegasi had one art, one craft, one great cultural relic common to all in their species. It was the one common sense of purpose that they all shared, and it stood out in contrast to their peaceful reverie as they lost themselves in brooding.

Warfare.

The lunar pegasi were made for war. Discord had seen to that long ago, when he had created them, perverting them from their original pegasi forms. And over the many centuries, they had nurtured their need for war. When Luna fell into darkness, becoming Nightmare Moon, many of her loyal and loving lunar pegasi had simply vanished. They served Luna, their Mistress, she who had restored order to their minds after Discord’s chaos. Luna had taught them to brood, to keep the inner chaos at bay, to listen to the soft sounds of the night, to focus their inner turmoil into an outward manifestation of extreme violence upon Luna’s enemies. And with Luna gone, they had left. Most of them. A few had remained to serve Celestia, so much was their sense of love and devotion to their Mistress.

Those that left had not gone to serene pastoral corners of the world, becoming soft pretty little ponies. No, they had gone to horrible places, places where if ponies existed at all, they were food. And the lunar pegasi had carved themselves a place in the hierarchy of super predators that existed upon this world. They lived comfortably in the Black Realms, the sooty place that was now the home of dragons, the land pockmarked with volcanos. And the dragons, after much war, had finally sued for peace, because the lunar pegasi were worthy foes.

And now they were returning to serve their Mistress once again. Each letter home was an affront. Some minor annoyance had reared its head and had the audacity to take the life of those they had held dear, a precious vessel that centuries of knowledge of warfare had been poured into and hope placed that the knowledge would be passed along, but the cycle of life had been interrupted. And now somepony was going to have to answer for it. They seethed with rage, nurtured the flickering flames of revenge in their hearts, and returned to protect their smaller weaker cousins, distant kin that had cried for help.

Somepony had disturbed a hornet’s nest. Somepony was going to learn the same lessons that the dragons had learned, the griffons had learned, and so many other monsters had to learn in the form of terrible lessons and horrible loss.

Arouse the ire of the lunar pegasi at your own peril.

It was too late now. Whomever this Collective was, they had poked the proverbial hornet's nest.

And now the skies over Canterlot blackened. Not with smoke, even though there had been plenty of that. The skies were crowded with grotesque shapes. Bat-like wings. Horrifying slitted eyes. Each ledge, each nook, every roof, every spot where a pony posteriour could be parked high above the city was now filled to overflowing with lunar pegasi, and each night more came.

The citizens of Canterlot were strangely ready. While there had always been some tension in the city between the solar ponies and the lunar ponies, the solar ponies now took a great deal of comfort when they heard a loud thunk on their roof, a bump on the rain gutter, the sound of hooves clattering on narrow decorative ledges. Word had spread through the city that the lunar pegasi protected those places where they went to brood… So many were hard at work to make their roof extra inviting, with plans to add balconies and platforms as the rebuilding continued.

The wealthy considered the equine gargoyles a most worthwhile fashion accessory and lured them to their rooftops with gifts of fish and food.

So many had come that the rooftops of Canterlot were crowded, and many began to eye Ponyville. Thatched roofs were not ideal, but there were a few decent spots. Those spots would be taken soon enough.

Of all the changes wrought by the arrival of the of lunar pegasi, nothing felt the change more than the denizens of the Everfree. The dark things of the wood came to the sad realisation that they were food, or, at best, a night’s entertainment. The hideous creatures of the wood sought shelter in dark places, as a new nightmare had arrived and began to hunt them. It was not a good time to be an eater of ponies.

Author's Note

I've been waiting a long time to release this chapter. It's floated in my mind for quite some time, bringing the lunar pegasi home, reuniting them with their cousins.

As far as show cannon goes, I've always wondered where they were during the changeling invasion. I suppose I had to write something to fix that.

The major pieces and players are all jockeying for position now, even though the main enemy has yet to be revealed. Has been a difficult section to write, the final works were a good deal more complicated than I thought they would be.

And now I continue this story as it had started. The real conflict is coming, but will arrive later.

Four little foals still have a lot to learn after all.

Back in Session

Minerva froze as she trotted down the hall, causing Hoodwink to bump into her backside. Minerva stood, a look of terror and sorrow on her face, staring, her gaze focused on a large sooty black spot on the wall.

“Come on Minerva,” Brimstone said, “don’t fall apart now. We have to hold each other together.”

Minerva swallowed a few times, her eyes wide, her ears back against her head.

“I can see a pony…” she gasped, “I can see a pony.”

Her companions looked at the black spot on the wall. After a moment of looking, they each saw what Minerva saw.

In the center of the sooty smear was the outline of a pony in profile. Head, neck, body, legs, even a horn was visible.

Minerva began to cry again, something she had been doing a lot of lately. Her backside fell to the floor with a thump. Hoodwink sat down on one side, Brimstone sitting on the other, with Ivy sitting in front of her and hugging her.

Getting to class on time didn’t seem important. The four companions sat there for some time, with Hoodwink also breaking down into tears, all staring at the sooty black smear on the wall. Time lost all meaning as the companions thought about the events that had taken place.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” Said a familiar voice behind them. All four of them jumped. Time had slipped away.

“There’s a pony.” Minerva said in a pain filled monotone.

Twilight Sparkle looked at the black spot on the wall for a few minutes, finally seeing the pony, the faint outline becoming visible.

She let out an audible gasp.

“There is a lot to clean up.” Twilight said. “I’m sorry you saw this. I’m sure it is very painful for you.”

“This shouldn’t be cleaned up.” Minerva said. “This should be left alone. Ponies should see this. Lots of ponies died. You can’t clean that up. You can’t just make it go away. Ponies need to remember what happened. It should be sealed off and have glass put over it or something to make sure that it is left the way it is.”

Twilight went over and took a sit with the foals, gazing at the image. She wrapped a wing around them, sitting next to Hoodwink.

Five of them sat in silence, reflecting on those lost. Not much was said, or could be said. Class was forgotten, and the many important things that Twilight Sparkle had to do were momentarily brushed aside.

Eventually, Ivy let go of Minerva and clung to her godmother, her teacher.

An hour passed in near silence.

“So this is where my students have gone.” Said a gentle voice, calm and soothing.

Twilight suddenly felt guilty. She knew the consequences for missing class. She cringed at Celestia’s voice.

“There must be something that you see.” Celestia said.

“Yes,” said Minerva, “there is a pony there.”

Celestia looked at the image, and, like the others, eventually saw the heart wrenching outline.

“Minerva believes that this shouldn’t be cleaned up. And I agree. It should be sealed up and a display made. To remind us all of what has taken place. A memorial. I don’t know if the pony who made the outline was friend or foe. Nor do I care.” Twilight said, her voice thoughtful.

“I agree Minerva. I will take steps to make sure that this place of reflection is preserved.” Celestia took a deep breath. “I take it that the special class that Twilight Sparkle called into order here was productive?”

“I’ve learned something...” said Hoodwink, nodding.

“Would you mind telling me?”

Hoodwink squirmed uncomfortably.

“Please tell me Hoodwink. I value your insight. You may be young, but that does not make your views upon the world any less valid or meaningful. Do tell me.” Celestia smiled, her eyes gentle and encouraging, as always. The Princess of the Day was an eternal well of hope.

“I’ve learned Minerva sees things that I don’t. I would have just walked past this and never noticed. And it makes me feel sad that I know I would do that. And I feel bad because I should feel something about the pony on the wall, but all I can think about is my self and how I would have walked past it if Minerva hadn’t stopped me. I can’t think of anything for the pony on the wall. I’ve been sitting here for an hour and I can’t think of anything. Other than being thankful for Minerva.”

“Isn’t that enough?” Asked Celestia, gazing once again at the pony on the wall.

“No.” Hoodwink said. “I should feel something. Somepony has died here. And all I can think about was how I was going to keep walking. I feel bad.”

“Hoodwink, my student,” said Celestia, “you are missing something of vital importance here.”

Hoodwink buried her face into Twilight’s neck.

Celestia brushed Hoodwink’s back with a wing. “Hoodwink, what is important here is that you stopped to consider your friend’s point of view and took some time to see what she saw. This is something that will probably have a profound impact on your life, even if you cannot realise it now. You took time to listen, to look, and you still have time to learn.”

Hoodwink raised her head, looking forward at the pony on the wall.

“We all leave our mark upon the world.” Hoodwink said thoughtfully. “This image left a mark on Minerva, and now Minerva has left a mark on me.” Hoodwink struggled, trying to grasp a difficult concept. “We all leave behind images upon one another, things that we can go back and study later as we grow. I may not be able to think about what this means now, but thanks to Minerva I can think about it later when I have more understanding and maybe get something from it then.”

“Very profound.” Brimstone said, finally saying something. “Usually I am the one to elucidate upon a subject. I’ve been lost this whole time. I haven’t been sure what to say.”

“You are a very good teacher Twilight Sparkle, having session in this hall.” Celestia said, a faint teasing tone in her voice.

“I merely stopped to listen to my students.” Twilight said.

“I know,” agreed Celestia, “and that is why you are an excellent teacher Twilight.”

Twilight Sparkle felt a hot flush run through her body, up into her cheeks, and down through her wings.

“What do you think about when you see the pony Twilight?” Ivy croaked, her voice little more than a raspy whisper. Brimstone flinched upon hearing it, a look of obvious pain clouding his features.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t talk about it.” Twilight stammered.

“Why not?” Minerva asked.

“Yes Twilight, why not?” Celestia questioned, sitting down upon her haunches next to Brimstone, becoming the sixth pony in the hall.

Twilight began to chew her lip.

Ivy tugged gently on Twilight’s mane.

“When I look at the image all I can think about are selfish things. What I want in life. Before I die. How much things have changed in such a short time. All of my perspectives turned upside down. I used to think I knew what I wanted from life. Recently, that has changed. And now I see death looming before me and I am hoping that I have enough time to make some changes.” Twilight looked down at Ivy and smiled weakly.

“There is always time for change.” Minerva said, with all the innocence of youth.

“Yes Minerva, but if I make these changes, it means giving up other things. Things I want. Things I had hoped to do. There may be time to make changes, but they come at a price.” Twilight looked again at the pony on the wall.

“Everything costs something.” Said Brimstone, looking at Ivy thoughtfully. “When I thought I had lost my friend, I did something horrible. I did something bad. I did something that ponies shouldn’t do. I still have my friend, and I am very grateful for that, but I have to pay the price for what I have done.”

Ivy let go of Twilight and turned her affection upon Brimstone, clinging to him.

“I know what Brimstone is talking about.” Hoodwink said. “I feel awful for what I did. And I feel even worse because I know that if my friends were threatened, I would do it again.” Hoodwink shuddered, remembering the bloody statues.

“You two must not punish yourselves.” Celestia said, her voice stern. “You both will have much to deal with, but take solace in knowing that your actions saved the lives of many others. And those you love.” She turned her head and looked at her nephew meaningfully, and then her student. “Hoodwink Lulamoon, you ended that battle in the hallway. Your actions saved many students, all of whom I hold very dear to my heart. You saved many teachers. I know that what you did is troubling you, but you are going to have to accept that there is a price for great power. You must temper it with always remembering what took place here today, and taking these lessons to heart. It is going to weigh heavily upon your mind, but you took those first few brave steps towards serving others. The needs of others outweighed the needs of your own, and you rose to the challenge. Take comfort in that, little ones.”

“I cannot.” Brimstone said. “I didn’t do what I did to save others. I lost my temper and bad things happened. It was only lucky coincidence that Ivy was immune to the gas. I could have killed her as well. I could have lost one of my best friends and I would be responsible.”

“And you are taking responsibility for it now Brimstone. Which makes you a good pony, recognising that you could have done better. But that does not change one very simple fact. You saved Ivy, and then carried her to safety. You took a serious risk in doing so. And then when confronted with others that you didn’t know, you tried to warn them in a moment of compassion rather than rushing headlong into danger and potentially taking more lives. You took your ability to do harm seriously and took steps to prevent more lives lost.”

Brimstone hung his head, silent. Ivy’s forelegs were wrapped around his neck.

“And I was finally a damsel in distress,” Ivy whispered, “and my prince saved me.”

No one laughed. Ivy resumed her silence sulkily.

“Twilight?” Minerva asked.

“Yes Minerva?” Twilight replied.

“What is it that you want?” Minerva asked.

“I want to believe in ghosts now.” Twilight said cryptically, her face relaxing somewhat, ears perking forward.

“But we saw ghosts Twilight. Real ones.” Minerva said.

“Palus Somni.” Brimstone said.

Twilight made an odd gurgling sound in her throat.

“Ooh…” said Minerva, gaining some understanding. “Don’t worry Twilight. Colts don’t actually have cooties. Although they do smell. Sometimes. Sorry Brimstone.”

Brimstone shrugged.

“I have a question,” said Minerva, looking up at Celestia, “what is it that you want?”

Celestia squirmed visibly, her wings fluttering, a look of honest surprise on her face. Nopony had asked her that in any sort of meaningful way for a long time.

“Well?” Said Minerva impatiently.

“I want Equestria safe. I want my sister happy. I want my students safe, secure, and happy. I want Canterlot rebuilt…”

“Whoah!” Minerva interrupted.

Celestia paused, not used to students interrupting her.

“Those are all things you want for other ponies. What do you want for your self?” Minerva demanded.

Celestia felt somewhat infuriated about being put on the spot, but held it deep down inside. She thought for several moments.

“I suppose that I want for Twilight Sparkle to believe in ghosts.” She said finally.

“That’s still for another pony.” Minerva protested.

“But it would make me very happy.” Celestia responded after a moment.

Minerva scowled, unsatisfied.

Brimstone cleared his throat.

“I suspect that my aunt desires to experience motherhood vicariously through Twilight Sparkle. Luna has me. Celestia has her students but probably desires something more.” He said, avoiding Celestia’s gaze.

Twilight

Applejack lay in a hammock, tied between porch posts. She swung slightly in the breeze, rocking back and forth, enjoying the setting sun. Evening was upon them. It had been another day in troubling times. But the day had passed. Another day, another sunrise, and now, another sunset. The shadows lengthened and grew distorted. Applejack had no idea how she was going to get out of this hammock, but that was a problem that could be dealt with at another time, when the need arose.

Maplejack lay beside her, her constant companion. He squirmed and wiggled, fussing somewhat, sleeping.

He awoke with a snort.

“Mama,” he said, his mouth opening in a yawn, “somepony is comin’.”

Applejack gave him a squeeze with her foreleg.

“That so?” Applejack drawled. She had learned some time ago to listen to Maplejack’s occasional oddities. The little foal knew things. Knew about other ponies. Maplejack was special. Applejack wasn’t sure how, and she couldn’t explain it, but Maplejack was a lot like Pinkie Pie. Maple sense, Applejack thought to herself.

Applejack waited. Somepony would probably come. Not a family member, Maplejack seemed to know the difference. He had known about Rainbow Dash coming by for a visit, letting Applejack know in pretty much the same way that he was letting her know now. “Somepony is comin’.”

The evening loomed. The breeze picked up. Stars between to twinkle. Luna was hard at work, Applejack reflected, starbuckin’ the heavens into something worth looking at. Applebuckin’, babybuckin’, starbuckin’, it was all the same really, at least to Applejack. Hard work that somepony had to do and nopony seemed to appreciate. But it was hard work that had to be done or life would fall apart.

Well, she thought, not entirely true. Stumpy loved babybuckin’ and had his own way of saying thank you. Applejack felt a warm flush travel through her nethers. It was nice to be appreciated.

There was a dull thud overhead.

Applejack sighed. Somepony had came. Maplejack yawned. “I’m gonna be squished.” He said in a small voice.

“Most likely.” Applejack agreed.

“Applejack!”

Applejack took in the end of the day and looked at her visitor.

“Twilight Sparkle.” She drawled. “Go on, start talkin’, I already know why yer here.”

“What, how?” Twilight said baffled.

“I don’t know the specific reasons just yet, but yer in trouble. Just like Rainbow Dash. Just like Pinkie Pie. All of you show up on my farm when yer in trouble. I reckon yer going to want to talk about being a grown up and takin’ some responsibility.”

Twilight stared at her friend in awe.

“Pinkie Pie is in trouble?” Twilight finally said.

“She was.” Applejack said, not saying a word more than what was needed. “That spot of trouble over Canterlot a while back left Cyclone a mess. Pinkie was beside herself. She came to me with not a curl on her head.”

Twilight gasped.

“Cyclone turned out mostly OK though. He’ll never fly again, but he’ll live. Pinkie is curly headed again.” Applejack said, watching Twilight intently. “Pinkie is pregnant. When she thought she was going to lose Cyclone, she lost her cookies.” Applejack paused. “And tossed her cookies.”

“Oh.” It was all Twilight could muster. The recent events had taken too much out of her. She made a note to spend some time with Pinkie Pie as soon as possible.

“And Dashie is married. But you knew that.” Applejack drawled.

Twilight nodded.

“The rest of you are finally growing up and becoming real mares. Shy and I been waitin’ a long time for the rest of you to come along. So how about you Twilight Sparkle, what have you been up to?” Applejack asked.

Twilight suddenly found that there was a whole lot she wanted to say to Applejack. About how the farmer was the root of all their friendships. The anchor that held them all in. How Sweet Apple Acres was the one place that all of them returned to when they needed to find direction, or just did not know how to continue in life. How Applejack kept them all together. How Applejack was always there to make sense of the pieces. How Applejack knew how to hold both family and friends together. How the six of them would have probably fallen apart without Applejack keeping the tree that was their friendship alive and healthy, much in the same way she did apple trees. Twilight scowled at her internal metaphor.

“I’m lost.” Twilight said, all other words failing her and dying in her throat.

Applejack took a deep breath. “I know.” She exhaled.

“So much has happened.”

“I know.”

“And I am very lost and confused.”

“I know.”

“And I did something that I can’t make sense of.”

There was a long pause from Applejack…

“I figured as much. Which is why you came here, Twilight Sparkle.” Applejack’s green eyes stared at her friend, taking her in.

“I didn’t know who else to talk to. I couldn’t talk to Celestia. Not about this. Or Luna. Or even Cadance. I didn’t know who else to go to.” Twilight said, looking worried. She sat down in a ratty chair that had been left on the porch. “I couldn’t trust them in the same way I trust you Applejack.”

Applejack sighed as Maplejack squirmed next to her.

“I can’t believe what I’ve done. I’m always so careful. I make plans. I have checklists. I have checklists to manage my checklists. I’ve planned every aspect of my life. Every minute, every moment, all carefully accounted for.” Twilight sat, the corner of her eye twitching alarmingly.

Applejack had seen all of this before.

“And then I went and did something without a plan.” Twilight said, her voice becoming strained and rising in pitch.

“Twilight, what is so terrible? Get to the goldurn point.” Applejack said impatiently.

“I went out with a stallion named Phantom.” Twilight said, her face contorting violently.

“Oh, that’s awful Twilight Sparkle, how could you?” Applejack said in deadpan.

Twilight stared at her friend, ears twitching.

“Sorry Twi’, but I don’t see the big deal. Yer supposed to do that.” Applejack said with a faint smile.

“He took me brooding. Brooding is a sort of meditation that the…”

“I know what it is,” interrupted Applejack, “I do it all the time my self. It is how I fill my day while I lie around and these foals in my belly kick my insides. Now get to the point.”

“How…” Twilight started to say.

“I just do.” Applejack said, butting in again. “There’s a lot I know. I’m not as simple as I look. I’m one of them complicated mares. And don’t you laugh Twilight. I know what other ponies think of me. Dumb as dirt country farmer. I ain’t near as stupid as I might look sometimes. I might stay in the background a lot these days, but all of you come to me when yer in trouble. I have time to do the thinkin’ that gets us all through these confusin’ times.”

Twilight sat there flabberghasted.

“Now Twilight, get to the durn point. Before I get cranky on you and give you a well deserved piece of mind. Oh, and hug Maplejack. You’ll feel better.” Applejack smiled warmly.

Twilight lifted the foal in her magic and cradled him in her forelegs, holding him close to her chest. He squirmed and smiled up at her.

“Hi…” he drawled.

“I took Phantom up on his offer. To go brooding. I had a general idea of what it was, I’ve spent a lot of time around the lunar pegasi and I’m learning about them. He explained to me that I should listen to what the silence has to say to me, to push the chaos out of my mind and just listen and try to let my mind go blank. I thought the whole thing was silly. I wasn’t expecting anything to happen.” Twilight said.

“And something happened, something you can’t read about from some book, something you can’t neatly explain and file away and give a good reason for.” Applejack finished, knowing her friend too well.

Twilight nodded, her lower lip quivering.

“So what happened?” Applejack inquired, rocking gently in the breeze in her hammock.

“I started to hear things!” Twilight said. “All kinds of things. I heard screaming. And singing. I heard ponies crying. I heard foals crying. The sounds of the city flooded my ears. I knew that some of the things I was hearing weren’t actually there. Auditory hallucinations. All of this sound. And then the world became strangely quiet. I heard a clock ticking. And I heard this creaking sound, like Granny Smith’s rocking chair….” Twilight paused, looking at the battered rocking chair on the porch, not too far away.

Applejack sighed, suddenly feeling sad.

“Granny lived a long time.” Applejack said. Twilight nodded. “And then what happened?” Applejack asked.

“I don’t know!” Twilight said. Tears were beginning to fall.

“You don’t know?” Applejack asked with some concern.

“Phantom and I suddenly weren’t brooding.” Twilight said in a small voice.

Applejack looked puzzled.

“We were going at it right there on the rooftops. There were lunar pegasi everywhere. All watching us. Silent. Brooding. Probably brooding about us. What we were doing.” Twilight’s voice began to disintegrate into a warble.

“I take it this was consensual?” Applejack asked, a faint hint of concern present.

“I didn’t give him much of a chance to say no.” Twilight said, continuing her meltdown.

“Oh.” Applejack snorted.

Applejack began to chuckle.

“It isn’t funny!” Twilight said. “I have never behaved like that before.”

“My little Twi’ is having herself a good time.” Applejack laughed. She paused. “Twi’ tell me that you’ve been with a stallion before. I hope you ain’t sayin’ what I think yer sayin’.”

Twilight began to rock back and forth while she clutched Maplejack.

“Oh pony farts.” Applejack swore.

“Life seemed so finite at that moment.” Twilight said, as though it explained everything. “I don’t know what came over me. Over us. So much had happened. We were sitting there brooding and I heard strange noises and then suddenly things just happened. And the lunar pegasi watched us. Nopony laughed. Nopony smiled. I was aware that I was being watched and I just didn’t care at the moment. I was so caught up in the now. My mind was completely clear of everything that holds me back. Phantom was with me, something I’ve actually been wanting for a very long time now. I didn’t know how to talk to him. During our brood, I realised how useless words were. There was this odd moment of total clarity and for a very brief moment, everything in the universe made sense. Draw breath. Live life. Continue life. Make life. Repeat.”

Applejack struggled for words to say.

“I make up too many reasons not to do things.” Twilight said, clutching Maplejack tightly. “I’ve talked myself out of so much that life has to offer. I convince myself that I have good reasons. A sense of obligation to my duties. To my friends. To Cadance, Celestia, and Luna. To my students, whom I love. I make time for all of them but I never make time for my self.”

“You and Fluttershy have a lot in common.” Applejack said, looking at her friend, watching the evening fade completely into night. Twilight time was over, Applejack reflected, pondering everything taking place on her porch.

“I’m not going to waste any more time Applejack. No more. I’ve seen too much go wrong lately. All of the best laid plans of so many, falling about them like so much ash. I’ll make time for my self. Like Cadance does. I’ll schedule a time to be spontaneous.” Twilight trembled slightly in her chair. “I’ll read a few books about how to take time for yourself.”

Twilight fell silent, her mouth moving, but no words forthcoming. Maplejack wrapped his forelegs around her and rested his head against her neck.

“Twilight…” Applejack said gently, trying to intrude on her friends internal mental processes.

Twilight didn’t reply.

“Twilight Sparkle!” Applejack said in her scoldin’ voice, the one she had inherited from Granny Smith when she became the matriarch of the Ponyville Apple clan.

Twilight froze, looking at Applejack.

“Twilight Sparkle, pull yerself together this instant, or so help me, I will applebuck some sense into yer thick skull.” Applejack warned.

Twilight nodded, her eye twitching only slightly.

“You got lost in a moment and did what ponies do when you cleared all that junk out of yer head. A lot of ponies had just died. It is only natural to do what you did. It is how we respond to disaster. We try to make more little ponies. And life goes on. It is how we deal with grief. With loss. With everything that happened that night. We clean up the pieces, sweep up the mess, and we get to babybuckin’ while hopin’ for the best. If we didn’t do this, we’d prolly all be long gone from this here world. Now, those lunar pegasi understand something that most of us don’t. Life goes on. Bad things happen. They know it. They live hard lives, lives that’d make most farmers cuss in frustration. A life I know I wouldn’t want. Some of us have to be princesses, some of us have to grow food, and some of us have be ready to die so that the princesses and farmers and such can continue to do their jobs. They understand this. Making life is what balances causing death. And you’d do well to listen to what they have to say. Spend more time brooding Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight blushed, heat flashing on her cheeks. “Brooding led us to…”

“I know.” Applejack interrupted.

“So you are saying…”

“Yes, dagnabbit.” Applejack cursed.

There were hooves tapping on the porch. Gala, Honeycrisp, and little Appleseed climbed the stairs and approached their mother.

“We were out chasing fireflies.” Appleseed announced.

“Ivy likes to eat Fireflies.” Gala added.

“I miss Ivy.” Honeycrisp finished.

Applejack looked at her foals.

“Hello Twilight.” They said in unison.

Appleseed crawled into the chair with Twilight. His small size allowed him to squeeze in almost anywhere there was a smidgen of extra space. “Twilight, can you tell me a story?” He asked, looking up at her with pleading eyes.

Applejack narrowed her eyes at Twilight, daring her to say no.

Gala and Honeycrisp sat on their haunches, leaning on one another.

“A long time ago, there was a little filly who lived in a tower.” Twilight began. “And she didn’t have any friends…”

Author's Note

This story is starting to wrap up. Getting near the end. I'm in the home stretch now. I hope I can keep going.

There is still the third and final part to write, which I reckon will be huge. It scares me something awful just thinking about it.

To be honest, I'm feeling a little awkward, not really knowing what people think. I keep going, curious if what I am doing has any impact at all. I hope it does. I'd like to think that it does.

Thanks for giving me some of your time folks.

Brimstone Becomes Tangled Up In Ivy

The four companions sat at a table, looking out over their notes, pondering their shared assignment. It was a struggle to pay attention, to even think at all. Celestia’s assignment about Starswirl’s unification theory now seemed more important than ever, given everything that had happened.

There was a new sense of unity now, Minerva reflected. Sure, the Collective loomed as an elusive threat, and she assumed that there were still trouble makers out there somewhere, but in the castle and all around them, there was this strange new feeling that they were in this together. Much had changed, Minerva mused. She pondered her new sense of calm. She had protected Hoodwink. Minerva, tiny scared Minerva, had leapt into action and had saved a friend. Minerva Silvermane had made a difference.

It had caused her confidence to soar, and her companions had noticed.

Hoodwink leaned against the table, looking at all of the notes, most of them Brimstone’s. Brimstone and Minerva had a talent for notes that she did not. It had caused her some guilt for some time, as she felt that she wasn’t contributing her fair share. And then Hoodwink had discovered quite by accident that she could condense Brimstones long and detailed notes into something brief and readable, but still containing most of what was needed to convey the message.

Hoodwink was a natural born editor.

She slashed through Brimstone’s garrulous and verbose treatises the way Daring Do slashed through hostile jungles. She did it with a certain sadistic glee, chopping the words away, sometimes cruelly, with Brimstone protesting and lamenting every lost word. Hoodwink’s vocabulary had increased considerably over the past few days, having to flip through the dictionary, trying to make sense of what Brimstone had written. She had to frequently dig out the old dictionary too. The really old dictionary. Ye Olde Canterlot Dictionary. It was dusty. And smelled funny, the yellowed pages making her want to sneeze. She hated Brimstone just a tiny bit, resented him for making her learn the meaning of words like enculturation and acculturation, and how they pertained to the tribes coming together. She had to understand words like cultural fortification and ethnocentric animosity. Minerva kept waking her up and telling her that she was mumbling ‘Brimstone words’ in her sleep. Hoodwink felt like she could speak a different language now. Never in her life had she felt like she was talking to somebody who spoke a different language while speaking the same words. Not until she had met Brimstone. Minerva was pretty wordy as well, but Brimstone had her beat. By a longshot. Brimstone didn’t need his magic gas to kill ponies. No, Brimstone could bore a pony to death. By passing it a note. She lifted her gaze and glared at Brimstone. Brimstone could make a statue crumble from boredom.

Brimstone noticed Hoodwink’s gaze, feeling her eyes burning into him. She had been doing that a lot lately. He cringed. Perhaps if he looked apologetic, Hoodwink wouldn’t so badly butcher his carefully created and lovingly crafted notes.

What Brimstone didn’t know was that his notes were better than any assignment turned in by other students in class. And neither did his companions. Brimstone was buried under the crushing worry that he was going to fail, and that his mother and his aunt would be disappointed in him. And so his friends had tried to help him, all of them struggling to come up with a paper that was worth turning in.

Ivy’s tail began to scratch away at a scrap of paper with a pencil. Brimstone eyed it as it happened.

The paper said “Ow.” Nothing else. Written in beautiful flowing script. Ever since Ivy’s tail had discovered pencils, it occasionally liked to get a few words in. Ivy had no idea how it was possible, and it had even baffled her teachers. They had tested her. With a blindfold.

“Ivy, you alright?” Minerva asked.

“I’m fine.” Ivy replied, her voice sounding a bit more like its usual tone. “Just tired. I think.”

“Your tail says otherwise.” Brimstone said.

“I’m sore. I think I’ve been sitting too much. I’m not used to all of this sitting.” She eyed the wooden beams above. “Don’t feel up to hanging though.”

Brimstone scowled.

“Ivy, you don’t have to stay at the table with us.” Hoodwink said. “I’ve seen you up there, hanging, with a clipboard held in your hind feet so you can write. We know that you do your part. You don’t have to stay down here with us and make yourself uncomfortable.”

Ivy shrugged. “I’m fine.”

Minerva pushed some notes around, shoving a pile toward Hoodwink. “These need to be translated.” Minerva said, causing Brimstone to whine pitifully.

“Gimme those!” Hoodwink said, pulling the notes in.

“Hoodwink, be gentle!” Brimstone pleaded.

“No.” Hoodwink said, glaring at Brimstone.

Hoodwink looked at the notes. “Some of these are yours Minerva. And you’ve packed in some extra words.”

“I like watching you work.” Minerva said with a grin.

“You are a horrible pony.” Hoodwink said. “I’m telling Cadance.”

“No!” Minerva protested.

Ivy’s head hit the table with a thump.

“Ivy?” Hoodwink asked, nudging her with her hoof. Ivy was next to her, on her own cushion.

Brimstone and Minerva waited for a response.

“Climbing Ivy, speak to me this instant.” Hoodwink demanded.

“I’m hurting.” Ivy said.

“Hurting where?” Hoodwink asked, her tone becoming remarkably like her mentor’s gentle voice.

“It’s embarrassing.” Ivy said. “I’m hurting down there.” She added in a low voice. She clutched her stomach with her talons.

Hoodwink gently leaned Ivy back away from the table. She looked down and gasped.

Blood was on Ivy’s pillow. A small but steady trickle emerged from down below.

“Brimstone.” Hoodwink said, taking charge. “Run. Go get Celestia. Or somepony. Tell her that Ivy is bleeding. From a delicate place. Go. Now!”

Brimstone was on his hooves in a moment, pausing for only a moment at the door. He looked at Ivy, his face covered in grave concern, and then he was gone, galloping down the hall as fast as his gangly legs would take him.

Minerva fought to retain her calm, slowly coming around the table and sitting next to Ivy, throwing a foreleg around her shoulders. “Ivy.” Minerva soothed. “Celestia will be here before you know it. Why didn’t you tell us you were hurting?”

Ivy shrugged limply. “I didn’t know it was this bad.” She offered weakly. She leaned on Minerva.

“You’re cold Ivy.” Minerva said, pulling her friend close. She saw the blood and felt a twinge a panic.

And then anger. With her self. Ivy hadn’t thought twice about the blood when Minerva had been bleeding. Minerva steeled her resolve. The panic fled her body.

Hoodwink clutched them both.

Later… Much later…

Brimstone paced back and forth outside of the door. It was locked. He could hear voices inside, talking in low tones. Ivy was on the other side. It was driving him crazy. Minerva and Hoodwink sat huddled together on a sofa nearby.

Brimstone gave a faint knock, hoping that this time, it would be answered. He had knocked before. And the door did not open. Celestia had told him quite some time ago that he needed to be patient.

Brimstone was normally quite patient.

But not now.

“Brimstone, come over here and sit with us. Please?” Hoodwink pleaded.

Brimstone growled with increasing frustration. He stomped away from the door. He strode through the room, reaching the door and the hallway on the other side. He turned. He scraped the carpet with his hoof, testing traction, snorting, kicking out a hind leg, flexing his muscles.

He bolted forward with sudden speed, causing Minerva to cry out. He crossed the room in mere moments, and, at the last moment, angled his head away, slamming into the door with his shoulder. He bounced away, leaving the door unharmed. He fell to the floor, gritting his teeth, trying not to cry, out of both frustration and pain.

The door opened and Celestia stepped out. The door closed behind her. She looked down at Brimstone. There was a faint hint of anger upon her face. Brimstone stared up at her, defiant, his crimson eyes glaring with repressed rage.

Celestia’s look softened and she looked sad.

Brimstone rose to his feet, never averting his gaze.

He glared at her silently.

“Brimstone.” Celestia said gently.

“I can’t take it anymore!” He shouted.

“I know.” Celestia said, hoping that a gentle answer would turn away wrath.

“I need to know what is happening!” Brimstone demanded.

“We would all like to know what is happening.” Hoodwink said. “It has been a long time. We have tried to wait patiently. You haven’t been fair with us.”

Celestia stood there, looking at her student.

“Is Ivy OK?” Minerva asked.

“We cannot just keep sitting out here while Ivy is suffering!” Brimstone shouted.

“Ivy has been made comfortable. I promise you nephew, Ivy isn’t suffering very much.” Celestia said, hoping her gentle tones would have the desired effect.

“Then make us comfortable!” Brimstone growled. “We’re suffering too!”

Celestia frowned, her wings fluttering slightly and her brow furrowing. She took a deep breath.

“Ivy is growing up. Her body is trying to adjust and make changes, to prepare for when she reaches adulthood, even though it is still years away.” Celestia looked down at the angry yellow colt before her.

Brimstone stomped. “That doesn’t tell me very much.”

“Brimstone, this is very personal and private. Please try to understand.” Celestia said patiently.

Brimstone glared up at her.

“Don’t be so angry Brimstone.” Celestia said.

“I can’t help it. Ivy means a lot to me. I don’t want her hurting. So much has happened. I need to know she is alright. I’ve got all these feelings and I don’t know how to say them or talk about them. I’m angry and confused. And I want Ivy to be alright.” Brimstone’s angry face softened slightly. His ears dropped. “I’m sorry.” He said, dropping his head and avoiding his aunt’s gaze.

“Ivy is trying to pass an egg. It is very difficult and hard upon her body. She isn’t quite old enough but it has happened anyway. Probably due to the stress of everything that has happened, possibly jump starting her innate need to survive. Dragons have odd physiology. I’m not fully certain what is going on.”

“Ivy has an egg?” Minerva asked.

“Will it hatch?” Hoodwink added.

“No.” Celestia said, before more questions could be asked. “It is a false egg. Like chickens lay. Her body is simply trying to prepare for what comes later. She has been sedated slightly and has been given some painkillers. She’s drowsy and she slips in and out. She was sleeping peacefully until there was a thump upon the door.”

Brimstone looked guilty and his whole body slumped.

“This is awful.” Brimstone said in a small voice.

“No.” Celestia replied. “This is a happy occasion.”

“How is this a happy occasion?” Hoodwink asked.

Celestia took a deep breath and prepared herself for curious foals. “Ivy’s mother died giving birth. There were complications. Live birth presented an overwhelming number of problems for Ivy’s mother. Many of those problems could have been avoided if Ivy had been hatched. From an egg.”

“I still don’t understand how this is a happy occasion.” Hoodwink replied.

“It means that Ivy will be able to have offspring with out terrible risk to herself.” Celestia said.

Brimstone’s backside fell to the floor with a thump. He sat there, looking very confused, bewilderment contorting his face, his mouth left hanging open.

“Ivy is oviparous.” He finally said, closing his eyes.

“Brimstone, you need to stop reading and spend more time doing other things. As your aunt, I worry.” Celestia prodded him gently with a hoof. “Really. A foal your age shouldn’t know the word oviparous.”

“Since Ivy is awake, may I please see her?” Brimstone begged. “Please? I know I’ve been bad and I don’t deserve it, but I’m asking anyway.”

Celestia nodded.

“We want to see her too.” Minerva said. “But we’ll wait here and let Brimstone have a chance to speak with her. I think he needs a moment.” Hoodwink nodded.

Brimstone rose, took a few steps towards the door, and paused. The door opened. The room was dark. He felt a hoof on his backside, shoving him gently toward the door. He swallowed, suddenly gripped by a terrible fear.

He stepped through the door, trying to let his eyes adjust to the dim light. A yellow pegasus smiled at him warmly. Around her was coiled a long serpentine figure. He licked his lips, suddenly feeling nervous.

“Do come in.” said the yellow pegasus, her nose crinkling slightly but her smile never breaking.

“Yes…” said the serpentine figure, “lets have a look at you. I can smell why Ivy likes you.” The figure said, his tone faintly teasing.

Brimstone suddenly wanted to bolt out the door, but that wasn’t possible. Celestia stood firmly behind him. He heard a click as the door shut. He looked at the bed, and saw Ivy, her head on a pillow, covered in blankets.

“This is Fluttershy, the Element of Kindness.” Celestia said, introducing the yellow pegasus. “And this, this is Discord, father of Ivy.”

Brimstone gulped. He stood there staring at them. He wasn’t even sure why he was scared. Terrified. What he was feeling was completely unknown.

“You saved my precious little monster.” Discord said. “Thank you. She talked about you when she was at home, visiting us after, well, everything that had happened.”

“Ivy isn’t a monster.” Brimstone said, his voice faint, his words catching in his throat.

Discord snorted, rolling his eyes. “You say that now, but wait till she eats your pottery.”

“Discord, now is not a good time.” Fluttershy said gently. “If you don’t mind behaving. Just a little bit. If that would be OK.” She added.

Discord coiled around Fluttershy a little more, gently moving, so her head could rest more comfortably against his side.

“You make such nice furniture.” Fluttershy complimented.

Brimstone slowly approached the bed. “Ivy?” He asked.

“My Prince?” Ivy said, her voice slurred.

Brimstone was taken completely off guard. He hadn’t expected this. He struggled, trying to find words to say.

“Are you hurting?” He finally asked.

“A little. Sometimes. It comes and goes.” Ivy took a deep breath. “I want popcorn.”

“Popcorn?” Brimstone said, confused.

“Pop pop. Popcorn.” Ivy said, as though that explained everything. “I’m hungry.”

Brimstone stood there, bewildered.

“She is heavily medicated.” Celestia said. “We didn’t want her hurting. This experience shouldn’t create a bad memory for her. It wouldn’t be fair for her later.”

Brimstone reared up on his hind legs, resting his forelegs on the bed. He pushed his head forward towards Ivy.

“You’re my best friend Ivy.” He said, suddenly wishing he understood what he was feeling.

Ivy giggled, smiling, showing double rows of teeth.

“I’ll tell you a secret.” Ivy said conspiratorially.

Brimstone leaned in closer, trying to listen.

“You’re not my friend.” Ivy confided.

Brimstone felt his heart sink. His world began to crash down around him.

“You are the most important treasure in my hoard.” Ivy said, smiling, her eyes wandering in different directions. “Special.” Ivy moved with surprising speed given her state, and planted a kiss on his nose. “Every dragon has to have something extra shiny.”

Brimstone stood there, utterly confused, his emotions completely unhinged by everything that had just happened. His heart began to thud painfully in his chest. He leaned against the bed, staring at her, not knowing what to say. He heard a faint giggle from Fluttershy’s direction.

Brimstone stood there, his mouth hanging open, unable to say or do anything. He struggled to do something, anything, something other than stand there and look like an idiot.

He failed.

Ivy began to make an odd sound, a rumbling throaty sound, soft, faint.

She was asleep.

He eased himself off of the bed, backing away.

“A stinky chunk of Brimstone is a fine addition to any dragon’s hoard.” Discord said, chortling. Fluttershy tittered at his words.

Brimstone stood there, his cheeks suddenly ablaze, a fire raging behind the skin of his face. He was completely at a loss for words. He was utterly confused. He turned to look at Celestia, who was smiling at him.

No, Brimstone realised, smirking at him.

The heat in his face doubled. He no longer wanted to be in this room.

His brain recoiled.

“My nephew is now part of a valuable collection.” Celestia faintly teased.

It was too much. Brimstone wanted to crawl under a rock and die. Heat built in his face, reaching alarming levels. His ears burned. Was it possible to die from embarrassment? Brimstone didn’t know, but he felt that he was about to find out.

No words could escape his throat. He stammered for a few moments, his mouth open and closing, thinking about the kiss planted on his nose.

Celestia was still smirking. Her eyes merry and full of happiness.

Brimstone felt the pressure building inside of him. He felt faint.

He suddenly exploded.

Celestia stood in the room, utterly shocked and surprised. Fear had filled her the instant Brimstone’s horn had glowed and she had placed a protective bubble around Discord and Fluttershy.

Brimstone had just vanished, exploding into a cloud of extra foul smelling green smoke. Harmless green smoke, Celestia noted. Well, mostly harmless. The foul miasma lingered and for a time, Celestia worried if she would ever be able to remove this new stench from her gleaming white coat. This new stench made Brimstone’s usual feculent funk smell fresh as a daisy. She gagged.

Discord chortled while Fluttershy coughed, and then gagged.

“That smells fantastic!” Discord said. “I wish Ivy was awake to smell this. It’d make her feel so much better.”

Celestia struggled to keep the contents of her stomach in check. Draconic entities, she thought to herself. Ivy would probably enjoy this horrible new stench.

“I can taste it!” Gagged Fluttershy.

Brimstone exploded back into existence, falling from some height, landing on top of his mother, who was very, very surprised and shocked to see him.

And smell him.

Strange new pain wracked his body.

Luna coughed and gagged, hacking, struggling in the battle to keep down the breakfast she had just eaten as the sun had been setting.

She lost her battle, her head lurching forward as the Princess of the Night created a new galaxy of recently eaten scrambled eggs with diced green chili peppers.

Luna struggled to regain her dignity as she snorted a troublesome chunk of chili pepper out of her nostril.

“Brimstone!” She cried, in a strained voice, feeling him on her back. He was hugging her long neck.

“Oh by the stars you STINK!” Luna shouted. “This is an all new level of olfactory offensiveness for you!”

“I exploded!” Brimstone tried to explain in a breathless exclamation.

“You finally winked like a proper unicorn!” Luna said, feeling an odd mix of joy and nausea. “You teleported!”

She stood there, her nose burning from both the stench and the lingering heat of chili peppers still lodged deeply in her sinuses.

“HUZZAH!” Luna shouted, causing the nearby windows to rattle alarmingly.

“That was winking?” Brimstone said. “Felt like I exploded. Hurts. I didn’t want to be there anymore and I don’t know what happened.”

“Winking always hurts the first few times.” Luna said. “You get used to it though. Becomes second nature to a unicorn that can wink.”

Luna coughed again, her eyes watering. The stench was deplorable and the air was still filled with a rotten green smoke.

“My colt can wink.” Luna said triumphantly. “Stink-wink.” She added.

Her stomach lurched.

One galaxy collided with another.

She lifted her head once again in triumph.

“You are mother’s little mephitis majoris! I am going to make a constellation for you to celebrate this occasion!”

“A skunk?” Brimstone replied.

“My skunk!” Luna said proudly.

Luna paused.

“What happened?” She asked, worried slightly, wondering why Brimstone would need to wink.

Brimstone explained everything that had just happened to his mother…

Quite sometime later…

Brimstone sat waiting in a small but comfortable room in his mother’s chambers. It was a new day. Hoodwink and Minerva were with Ivy. He took comfort in that.

He was about to have visitors, but he didn’t know who. He reclined on a sofa, looking at the painting on the wall. It was a moonlight night over the suggestion of trees. Faint outlines. Shadows. Not actual trees, just the general shape of trees. The real focus was on the stars and the moon.

It was beautiful, like his mother. Dark. Shadowy. Somewhat mysterious.

Luna was asleep, smiling, a look of indescribable joy on her face. He had seen it while he had been ushered into this small room to wait, when Celestia had led him in. She had wanted him to be in a place he felt safe and secure. For whatever reason. He didn’t know.

The doors opened and two alicorns entered. One pink, the other purple.

Cadance and Twilight Sparkle.

He nodded his head in greeting.

Both of them looked at him, smiling.

“We need to talk Brimstone.” Twilight said, smiling.

“Yes.” Cadance said. “Consider this a special lesson.”

Brimstone froze. Suddenly, he wanted to be elsewhere. What were the Princess of Love and the Princess of Magic doing here? A nagging suspicion formed.

“Oh no,” said Brimstone, “no embarrassing talks needed. I know all about how little foals are formed and I am not some innocent little colt.”

Cadance tittered softly, smiling, her eyes going wide. “I told you he’d figure us out Twilight.” She said, a faint teasing tone in her voice.

Twilight smiled distractedly.

“Really, there is no need for this.” Brimstone said.

“Oh, but there is.” Cadance said gently.

“Yes,” Twilight agreed, “there is much to be said.”

Brimstone groaned and wondered if he could make himself stink-wink again. These two deserved a gassing.

He worked up his best glare and turned his baleful crimson eyes upon them.

It did nothing.

He scowled.

“Equestria needs you.” Cadance said, her face suddenly very serious.

“You. You are putting me on. Trying to pander to me, hoping that I will do something you want. Cease being duplicitous and get to the point.” Brimstone said in aggravation.

“I told you so.” Twilight muttered to Cadance. “You owe me a milkshake.”

Cadance scowled.

“Equestria really does need you.” Cadance said again. “There is a unique opportunity here. We would like to ask you for your help. Ivy is a unique creature of draconic heritage.”

“Which is Twilight’s area of specialisation and study.” Brimstone interjected.

“Allow me to finish.” Cadance asked politely.

Brimstone nodded in agreement.

“Ivy is very infatuated with you, as I am sure you know.” Cadance said, her tone hopeful. “And I know that you feel something toward her. You are still young, but probably just old enough to understand that something is there. I can sense it. It is very strong and it comes from your heart. I felt it in the Crystal Empire, when you were there, and I can feel it now. And it has grown. A lot has happened in a very short amount of time, and you are probably struggling to understand what you are feeling. And how it affects you. Am I right?”

Brimstone nodded, silent.

“Ivy has been in and out, talking to Celestia in her medicated state. She has very strong feelings towards you. Exceptionally strong feelings. Very possessive feelings.” Cadance paused and looked at Twilight.

“We heard about what was said to you.” Twilight said, picking up where Cadance had left off. “Dragon hoarding can lead to problems. Sometimes. There can be issues.”

“Does this have something to do with Ivy’s egg?” Brimstone asked.

Twilight looked flummoxed. “Maybe,” she said, “I hadn’t thought about it. Spike grew alarmingly when he felt greedy. Ivy may have experienced a surge of adulthood.” Twilight scowled. A notepad popped into existence and she began to scribble something down.

“Anyway,” Twilight continued after a moment, “Ivy has become very possessive of you due to her feelings of infatuation. There is some mild concern about how she may behave. There is a lot we don’t know. And we’d like to know. But we can’t do that alone…” Twilight looked at Brimstone meaningfully.

“There is much that both of us would like to know for our studies, student of Luna.” Cadance said.

There it was, Brimstone thought. He’d been waiting for something like this. He took a deep breath.

“You want me to keep notes about my budding relationship with Ivy.” Brimstone stated in a knowing voice. He took a small amount of smug satisfaction in beating them to their delivery. And also the pun. “So you can study them. Figure out love and how it develops. How it grows. Between species. You want my perspective, and you think you can talk me into it because I am one of your students.”

“We hope that we can convince Ivy to do the same.” Twilight said. “Discord isn’t very forthcoming with information and he isn’t a good study subject for a variety of reasons.”

“Such as?” Brimstone asked. “If I am to be part of this, I want you to be upfront with me. Or no deal. No holding back. If you do, than I will.”

Cadance’s mouth fell open with shock, her ears folding back. Her eyes widened.

“Discord has a greatly altered state of mind due to living for thousands of years. He has suffered horribly and his mind was terribly corrupted by his magic. It would only produce flawed results if he agreed to share with us. Which he hasn’t. He is very secretive and private about his love for Fluttershy.” Twilight took a deep breath. “On the other hoof, Ivy is young. A blank slate. In the throes of her first infatuation. She views other ponies as her hoard, something we haven’t really experienced or had a chance to study. And you are her favourite trinket.”

“So am I to recreate your friendship studies as I try to figure out Ivy, making notes about our personal and private discoveries?” Brimstone asked. “Am I not allowed to go through the embarrassing and awkward moments of my first crush alone and unmolested, able to just enjoy it as it happens?”

“Nopony is forcing you to do anything.” Cadance said guiltily. “If you say no, there will be no consequences and nopony will be angry at you.”

“But there will be consequences.” Brimstone said.

“I assure you, there will not.” Cadance assured.

“And I know for certain there will be.” Brimstone retorted.

Cadance became flustered and made a most unladylike wordless utterance.

“Knowledge lost has consequences.” Brimstone said flatly. “Like burning a book or ignoring a rare once in a lifetime opportunity.”

Twilight smiled in relief.

“I consent.” Brimstone said. “But I want access to your findings. Ivy and I both. Full disclosure.”

Cadance nodded. “Thank you Brimstone, for being reasonable.”

“Yes,” said Twilight, “thank you Brimstone.”

That afternoon…

Ivy sat up in the bed. She felt weak and woozy. And a little sore. She had trouble focusing her eyes. Before her, sitting on a small pillow on a tray, was her egg.

It was lumpy and somewhat misshapen. Like her father’s pottery. It was somewhat metallic. Woven through the shell were bits of copper, silver, and gold. A faint flicker of gem flakes sparkled. It had been cleaned up and brought to her.

Brimstone sat on the bed close by, close enough to touch. He was silent. Her parents were close, sitting together, as they almost always were, watching her. The room was crowded with those she loved, and those who loved her.

Celestia stood looking at her.

“What do I do with it? Ivy said, her voice still somewhat slurred.

“What would you like to do with it?” Twilight said from her chair in the corner.

“It won't hatch.” Ivy said.

“No.” Celestia said. “It will not.”

“It is just a little part of me.” Ivy said.

“Every part of you is important.” Minerva said.

“Yeah.” Hoodwink agreed, stepping closer toward the bed.

“Perhaps the best part of you.” Brimstone said, his voice low.

“I dunno that I understand Brimmy.” Ivy said, wobbling slightly.

“You can take something very small and precious and place it inside of an armored shell, to protect it and allow it to grow, until it is large enough to hatch. And then be protected by you.” Brimstone said, his voice choked with emotion. “You are going to be a good and protective mother someday Ivy.”

Ivy began to sob slightly, as did her mother.

Discord looked on, his face unusually serious, stroking his chin with his griffon talons.

Ivy pulled Brimstone in for a hug, squeezing him, and ending it with a light kiss on his cheek.

Brimstone sat next to her, blushing.

“Twilight?” Ivy asked, trying to regain control.

“What Ivy?” Twilight said.

“Can you study it without breaking it?” Ivy asked.

“Of course Ivy.” Twilight said. “I doubt it will break easily. Dragon eggs are magically hardened. It takes strong magic to make one open and hatch.”

“I’d like to know more about it.” Ivy said. “What it is. How it is made.”

Ivy fell over backwards suddenly. She lay on her back, looking upward. “I feel funny.” She commented. She giggled for a moment, tears still on her cheeks. “When you are done studying it, I’d like it back. My dolls can keep it safe.”

“I have to be an eggsitter?” Discord asked. Fluttershy poked him with her hoof. “Do I get a nice apron?” He asked with a faint cackle. Fluttershy was about to give another poke when Ivy giggled. Fluttershy scowled, but her hoof retreated. “You’re lucky mister.” She said in a faint hiss.

“Brimstone?” Ivy asked.

“Yes Ivy?” Brimstone replied.

“Will you be my special somepony?” Ivy asked sweetly.

Luna Delivers a Nightmare

Luna was exhausted. Much had happened lately. And things kept happening. She trotted upon the crystal walkway, approaching the Crystal Spire. She had flown here, without guards, bearing a message. A message she did not wish to deliver.

When the guards saw her, there was an explosion of activity. Shouts. Horns blowing. Luna hated all of it. It distracted her. Robbed her of her concentration. She had a job to do, and she had to maintain her composure. An unpleasant task lay ahead.

Ahead of her, she saw Shining Armor, wearing horn to hoof articulated mail. His hooffalls were heavy and clattered upon the crystalline walkway. Two alicorns came out of the wide double doors not too far behind him.

Luna continued forward.

Shining nodded, removing his helmet, holding it with his magic. He looked frazzled. His eyes were bloodshot. He, like so many others, had too many responsibilities.

Luna had too many responsibilities. A headache was beginning to build behind her horn.

Twilight Sparkle and Cadance approached.

“We were just about to dress my sister Twilight Sparkle in full articulated mail for the first time.” Shining said as Luna neared. “Cadance was trying to convince her that it is quite fashionable.”

Luna paused at hearing Shining’s words. Her composure cracked slightly.

“Princess Luna?” Shining Armor said, his voice cracking with worry.

“It is going to have to wait.” Luna said. “I am sorry.”

“Luna, what is wrong? Has something happened? Why am I not informed?” Shining said, concerned.

“We should go someplace private. All of us. Twilight is going to need you.” Luna said, her voice becoming cold and emotionless.

Later…

The four of them settled into Cadance’s private chambers. Luna refused food and drink, hoping to get right to the point. Shining was still wearing his armor. Twilight looked immensely worried. She reclined on a sofa, next to Cadance.

“Twilight, Celestia regrets that she could not come here to do this task. She could not. She has pressing issues to attend to, as I am sure you will understand once the situation has been made clear.” Luna took a deep breath.

Cadance wrapped a wing over Twilight.

“Prepare yourself Twilight Sparkle, I come as the bearer of bad news.” Luna said, her voice completely cold.

Twilight lifted her head. Her eyes wide, her ears forward, for a moment she looked quite noble and regal, finally comfortable in alicorn skin.

Luna took a very deep breath.

“Last night your friend Rarity was found. She was tied to a tree. She had been strangled, using magic, and a sign left around her neck saying ‘traitor.’ I regret to inform you that one of your friends has passed.” Luna closed her eyes.

Twilight said nothing. Her expression stony. There was no reaction at all.

“It gets worse.” Luna said.

Cadance made an odd sound in the back of her throat.

Shining looked away, out the window, his face sorrowful.

“Palus Somni and a group of guards investigated the Carousel Boutique, hoping to find clues. Upon entering, they set off a trap.”

Luna took a deep shuddering breath, emotion finally entering her voice.

“Nopony survived. The blast killed many. Including the mayor.”

“Oh.” Twilight said.

She said nothing else. She showed no sign of any sort of reaction at all. She sat there, staring ahead vacantly.

“Celestia is there now, trying to keep order.” Luna said.

“I see.” Said Twilight.

Cadance began to cry silently, causing Shining to grit his teeth.

“I suppose I am needed in Ponyville.” Twilight said dully. “There are many that are going to need me. My friends. What is left of them.” Twilight’s voice was utterly devoid of emotion.

“Let me guess,” said Shining, “Collective fliers were found around Rarity?”

“Yes.” Luna answered, not seeing the need to say anything else.

“Twilight, please stay a little longer. At least until I know that you are OK.” Cadance pleaded.

“I am fine Cadance. And I have duties. I have a schedule to keep. Every minute is precious and must be accounted for. I have no time to take a moment for my self.” Twilight said, her voice in a near monotone. “I’ll always have time for you Cadance, but I really must go.”

Luna could hear Shining Armor’s teeth grinding.

“Twilight, please, spend some time with Cadance and Shining. Celestia has the situation under control for the time being.” Luna said, her voice pleading.

“I am needed.” Twilight said flatly. “I would be remiss in my duties if I did not return home at once and help to restore order. Ponyville is my domain, and I have neglected it sorely, taking time off for some personal endeavours. It was time I could have spent better. A mistake has been made. I should go at once and rectify it.”

Twilight’s emotionless voice unhinged Luna, causing a great deal of worry. Twilight was a little too powerful. It wouldn’t do anypony any good to suddenly have the Princess of Magic have a screw loose.

Luna had expected some sort of reaction. A bad reaction. She was not expecting no reaction at all. Fear prickled through Luna’s belly. She began to notice a faint crackle in the air. A faint whiff of ozone.

Panic set in, burning through Luna’s mind. Better to over-react than to not react at all, she thought, which seemed ironic in this situation.

Luna’s horn gave a blinding flash...

And Twilight Sparkle found herself standing upon the moon.

She held her breath, knowing that there was no air here, until she heard Luna clearing her throat. How was that possible? There was no sound in space.

“Am I to remain here for the time being?” Twilight asked.

“I hope not.” Luna said. “We are going to need you.”

“Than why am I here?” Twilight asked, her voice still dead.

“I don’t need somepony with your raw magical abilities suddenly going barmy.” Luna said bluntly.

“I am in perfect control.” Twilight replied.

“I know,” said Luna, “and that bothers me. I expected some sort of reaction. Place yourself in my shoes.”

Twilight stood thoughtful for a moment, gazing out into the vast blackness of space.

“I suppose if I were you, I would be concerned as well, knowing how I usually react.” Twilight finally said.

Luna let out a deep breath with a heave. “I know about you and Phantom.” Luna said.

The corner of Twilight’s mouth twitched slightly and then went still. She resumed gazing into the blackness.

“Do you feel nothing?” Luna asked.

“Of course I feel something.” Twilight said. “The feelings are still there. I just can’t see the point in wasting time to express them.”

Luna felt a fresh wave of panic go tearing through her insides.

“I took some time for my self finally. I followed a friend’s advice. It did not end as I desired. A mistake has been made. One I do not intend to repeat. I will not be slack from my duties again.” Twilight turned her gaze upon Luna. “Please return me home. I cannot teleport that far.”

Oh, this is bad, Luna thought, casting a spell to send a message to her sister.

“Twilight, you shouldn’t hold this in. This will lead to disaster. Trust me, I know.” Luna said gently.

“I am strong enough to deal with it. I will not stumble in a moment of weakness as others have.” Twilight said.

The words stung. Luna felt hot anger rising up through her. She crammed it back down. She loved Twilight. And Twilight was not well. She would let this out later.

Luna gnawed her lip, not knowing what else to do. She could not bear to see her friend in pain and bottling things up, holding it in. It struck too close to home.

There was a pop.

Luna sighed with relief.

“TWILIGHT SPARKLE!” Celestia said in her strongest scolding tone.

Luna saw right away that it had an effect. Twilight cringed and looked guilty. Celestia had that effect on ponies. Celestia really needed a cutie mark in scolding. Whatever that might look like. Luna recalled that Celestia had done this once before, long ago, when Twilight had enchanted a doll and caused anarchy.

Celestia sat down upon the lunar surface, plopping her haunches down into the dust.

“YOU! GET OVER HERE, RIGHT NOW, THIS INSTANT!” Celestia commanded, pointing to the spot directly in front of her with her hoof.

Twilight did as she was told, walking like a foal scolded. Her wings dropped and drug along the ground, causing dust to swirl around the tips. She drug each hoof. Her nose almost touched the ground.

Luna cringed. She had been at the bad end of several of these. This was physically painful to watch.

Twilight reached the spot indicated and stood there.

“SIT DOWN. I WILL NOT ASK TWICE.” Celestia’s voice echoed through space. Several meteors found it prudent to cruise elsewhere.

Twilight sat down before her former teacher. She hung her head.

Celestia reached out with her foreleg, pulling Twilight in, crushing her against her chest.

Luna felt an enormous rush of relief as Twilight Sparkle began to cry.

Author's Note

Ugh. Not sure if this turned out quite as I had hoped. I didn't want it to stretch for too long. It was intended as transition as I begin to reveal Brimstone's nemesis.

Breathing Room

Ivy hung from a tree, things finally back to some sense of order. She was pouting, and for good reason, somepony that she had loved dearly had died. And she was not allowed to go to the funeral. She missed Rarity already. Rarity who had lost so many hoof files trying to trim Ivy’s claws into something a little more ladylike. Rarity, who had worked so hard to create beautiful clothing for her dolls because Ivy had trouble wearing clothing her self. Rarity, who had always told Ivy that she was beautiful and delicate. Rarity, who was now gone. Ivy wanted dearly to say one last goodbye.

Celestia had felt it was too dangerous.

And now she was in the royal gardens, hanging from a tree. Guards were near. All around. Not just the gentle pegasi of the day, but the big hulking brutes of the night. Ivy took comfort in their presence.

She thought about those lost in her own life.

Angel, whom Ivy had discovered, who had appeared to be sleeping in her old basket. He had been cold. That had been a difficult day for both her and her mother. Ivy had been small, but she remembered. They had clung to one another as Fluttershy tried to explain why Angel would not wake up. Discord, still barely able to move at that point in his life, had been there for both of them.

It had been a dreadful lesson, Ivy reflected, finally rightside up in a world upside down. It felt good to think again.

She thought of Granny Smith. Gone. That had been a painful lesson as well. Applejack had tried so hard to explain it and make it make sense. In the end, Ivy, along with Applejack’s foals, all huddled against Applejack together.

Ivy missed her playmates. She longed to see them.

Ivy pondered Brimstone. He was sitting in the fork of her tree, doing something called brooding, which Ivy supposed she was doing as well. Luna had left him sitting there, way up high, stuck in the fork, a pony in a tree, free to leave when he figured out how to wink again or Luna had returned. Luna’s instructions had been firm.

He was sitting, reclining in the wooden tree crotch, his eyes closed, his face mostly peaceful with the occasional twinge of emotion.

Hoodwink and Minerva were below, in the grass. They were cutting things from newspapers and placing them into a scrapbook. It wasn’t quite the diary that the Elements of Harmony had shared, but it was turning out to be an important book. At least for them. A way to keep track of everything as everything seemed to get worse. Some of the newspaper clippings were about them. Many were obituaries, a big Brimstone word for something as simple as a note saying somepony had died.

Ivy reached up with her hind foot and took ahold of the branch. She scooted herself closer to Brimstone. He had agreed to be her special somepony. And now they were keeping their own special journal together. Ivy had already made a few entries, and worried that Brimstone, if he made an entry, would fill the entire book in one go.

Minerva sat in the companionable silence, trying to manipulate a pair of scissors to cut out a newspaper article. Ivy and Brimstone were above, with Brimstone doing something called brooding, which has caused all of them to sit in silence. They were all thoughtful. It was much easier to summon magic in moments like these. Fewer distractions. Scissors snipped. Magic worked. All very simple when the air wasn’t filled with an exchange of words. Still, Minerva wished that somepony would say something. She was something called an extravert. Long silences were trying for her.

At least she wasn’t alone. That was worse.

Better to be silent with friends.

She heard Ivy’s claws scraping above her and saw Ivy scooting over a bit, getting closer to Brimstone. Ivy and Brimstone were each other’s special someponies and now had a journal to keep together. Minerva suppressed a giggle.

Somepony important to Ivy had died. Minerva didn’t know the pony, but had heard stories. She had been one of the Elements, one of the Saviours of the Crystal Empire, and she had been a good pony. She had been a lot of things, but what had seemed important to Ivy was that she had been a friend. Something Ivy valued.

Ivy valued her friends, Minerva reflected thoughtfully. Minerva felt an odd sense of pride, being a crystal pony and being part of a dragon’s hoard. Minerva wasn’t sure that she had made sense of it yet, nor was she sure that she needed to make sense of it. It simply was, she reflected. After everything that had happened, she knew that she shared a special bond with her three companions. Her friends. She doubted anything could ever change that. Much like the Elements of Harmony, the four of them had a very strong bond. Exceptional bonds.

Minerva marveled at her magic and closed her eyes. She could do things other foals her age could not. She was a Silvermane. And, as she discovered, even here at the school, away from the crystal shaping unicorns of the Empire, she was gifted. Fillies her age still had lots of trouble with even the most basic spells, and Minerva was picking up speed. She snipped with the scissors. The silent reverie really making her magic sing.

Or perhaps it was her thoughts about her friends, Minerva thought, her mind suddenly reeling with the possibilities. All of this silent focus. She reached out, pushing out a stream of active consciousness, feeling every blade of grass around her. Every leaf. She felt the books before them, some of the scrapbooks, others just books, things to read later. She felt the papers. She felt everything. Minerva began to feel at one with the universe.

She felt a gentle tapping on her cheek, a hoof trying to get her attention.

Minerva opened her eyes and saw Hoodwink, hovering before her. Her forelegs now folded over her chest, looking mildly annoyed, but saying nothing. It slowly dawned upon Minerva that she was levitating Hoodwink.

To Minerva’s credit, she didn’t panic and drop her friend. Instead, she continued to suspend Hoodwink in the air and smiled, her confidence reaching an all new level. Cadance wanted Minerva to feel a sense of confidence. Cadance would be proud.

Hoodwink sat in the silence, reading newspaper snippets, listening to the squeak of scissors as Minerva manipulated them. Her mind buzzed. It was difficult to keep track of everything that had happened as of late. And all of the changes. Of all the changes, the changes that Hoodwink felt about herself were the most profound.

When crisis had happened, Hoodwink had taken charge, something that Hoodwink would have never believed possible. She had always been slow, indecisive, unsure and unconvinced of her self, afraid of crowds, afraid of other ponies. She had loved her dolls more than other ponies. She reflected upon her magic, her talent, and her wishes as a foal that her dolls would come to life and keep her company.

She had friends now. Not dolls. And when things happened, Hoodwink was one to take charge. She reflected upon the recent events with Ivy, remembering how fear had gripped her, and she had remained mostly calm.

Celestia had given her a long talk after everything that happened. Hoodwink now had her own special journal assignment, writing down and taking note of her budding leadership abilities. Recognising them when they happened, observing how they had an effect on others, and how they made her feel. Hoodwink also had to write about how an event might play out differently if no leader presented itself. It was not going to be an easy task. But she was allowed to ask her friends for help.

Her reflection was broken by an electric tingle dancing all over her body, making her hair stand up a bit, well, stand up a bit more than it usually did. Even Celestia’s strongest magic could not make her mane behave. Celestia was really quite frustrated that her student always looked so disheveled. No force in the known universe could make Hoodwink’s purple blue indigo mane behave for very long.

The electric tingle continued, and Hoodwink suddenly felt very light. She realised she was floating now. She looked over at Minerva, whose horn was glowing a glittering silver colour. This was new, Hoodwink reflected, floating in the air. She reached out and gently tapped her friend, trying to get her attention. And then she crossed her forelegs and tried to look authoritative, hoping that a glace would get her lowered back down to the earth. She really hoped that Minerva wouldn’t drop her. She saw Minerva’s eyes open and Minerva smiled.

Hoodwink felt a surge of annoyance as she continued to hover. She was going to have to work on her ‘I’m in charge’ look, and she began to take mental notes on what to write down in her journal.

Brimstone reclined in the crotch of a tree, his yellow belly towards the sun, his head resting on a branch. He was surprisingly comfortable, being a pony stuck in a tree, which was not the natural state of things for ponies.

Except for Ivy. But Ivy wasn’t exactly a pony. Brimstone didn’t care about that though. She was pony enough in his mind.

His mother had left him here, the ground alarmingly far below. She had to go someplace. And if Brimstone wanted down, he could wink down, she had told him.

This was mildly problematic.

He still wasn’t sure how he had winked the last time. Stink-winked. He had simply exploded from embarrassment. All of his atoms and molecules had exploded violently into a cloud of stench and then had reformed elsewhere, elsewhere being over his mother, which was the last thing he had thought about before exploding.

He had discovered that his first wink had been some considerable distance. Something that very few unicorns could say about their first wink. He had gone from the student infirmary all the way over to the warren of private rooms and quarters where Luna and Celestia ate their meals privately, away from the formal dining rooms. It had been a very long way. Through many very solid walls. And quite a number of wards designed to keep teleporting unicorns away. It was really quite amazing once all the facts came together.

Brimstone felt a sense of pride. Luna had been so very happy with him.

And now, she was back to challenging him. The brief moment of glory had been a bit too brief. And he was right back where he had started. Trying to impress his mother. His mother was always goading him on. Never happy about his accomplishments for long. Always driving him forward. Never allowing him to rest or revel in his own glory.

And Brimstone understood why. At least on some level. His mother had high expectations. He did too. Of himself. He had never been one content to rest upon his haunches for long.

He heard a creaking on the branch close by and the scraping of claws. Ivy was coming a little closer.

Ivy.

Cadance had said that he loved her. And he supposed that he did. Even if he didn’t understand all of these feelings. He had a very adult mind trapped in the body of a small foal, and while that gave him some unique perspectives on life, it hadn’t prepared him for this. He didn’t know what he was feeling. He felt small again, young, not knowing, a lost foal trying to make sense of the world. And none of his vocabulary could help him. None of his carefully chosen words could actually express what he felt. He felt a twinge of shame for a moment. How could he express to those adults around him that loved him and took pride in him that he would most certainly kill more ponies to keep Ivy to himself. It was something he wrestled with in the back of his mind. If somepony ever tried to lay spells on her ever again…

Brimstone shivered in the warmth of the day, his pea soup coloured mane falling into his eyes. He tried to blow it away with little success.

There was only one adult that he really felt understood how he felt. No, he thought, scratch that. Two. Nightfisher and Moonshine. He had gone to talk to them about what he felt when he couldn’t think of anypony else. Moonshine had said something about making an example of his enemies so they would fear even the coming of his shadow, and a lot of other things that didn’t make sense. Nightfisher told him to abandon those terrible thoughts and focus on love. Nightfisher was a changed mare. She was still recovering, down in the depths, trying to regrow skin and her pelt. She looked awful, but Brimstone had been brave. He had spent some much needed time with her. She was his foalsitter.

Like Hailstone had been. He quickly pushed that thought out of his mind.

Too late, he thought. Too late. Thinking about Hailstone made him think about his mother. His real mother. He thought about everypony that had been lost forever to him in his short life.

Ivy had lost her real mother as well. And both of them had been extraordinarily lucky to find mothers that loved them, inspite of their oddities. Or maybe because of their oddities.

He thought about Ivy’s mother. Fluttershy. She had kissed him before departing, whispering a few words before breaking her embrace with him. “Keep Ivy safe.” She had said. He felt himself blushing. He remembered Discord snatching him in his tail and hoisting him to eye level as he stood bipedally, and they had stared at one another for a moment. Discord had said nothing, but an understanding had been reached. Ivy was his filly. His daughter. His precious foal. And Discord loved her. A great deal. Thankfully, seemed to be content to share her.

For this, Brimstone was most grateful.

Author's Note

Finally, some much needed breathing room.

Only one more major event, and then this story will be done. It has been a bumpy ride, I am sure. I've had to make some rotten choices with some of my characters. I feel bad for it, but I stand by it.

The third part of this trilogy has already taken shape and has a rough outline. Going to have to make a few more tough choices with certain characters. I hope you will stay with me. I hope my work holds some meaning. And if my work is lousy, than I hope that it at least inspires others to do better.

Thanks. Please remain calm as we begin our final approach.

Making New Life

Hoodwink sat in the wagon. The small cramped space she called home. It was dark and full of shadows, with only Hoodwink’s horn for light. Her mother couldn’t afford lamp oil right now. After the disastrous show in Canterlot, her mother couldn’t afford a lot of things. Hoodwink’s stomach rumbled. Another show, another pile of bits. The wagon needed a new axle. Hoodwink’s cloak was in tatters. The stage was falling apart.

Nothing seemed to go as planned. Hoodwink kept failing, unable to summon her magic, unable to make the puppets dance.

Hoodwink knew her mother loved her, but Trixie seemed awfully frustrated.

Hoodwink heard the roar of the crowd outside. It wasn’t a very large crowd. Word had spread that Hoodwink was a great and terrible failure.

Hoodwink hoped that the crowd would at least throw vegetables again.

Hanging her head, she quietly left the wagon and went to face the crowd.

She mounted the stage and it creaked alarmingly. The boards were rotten, and needed replacing. Everything needed replacing. She took her place in the puppet booth, hoping that this time, she could put on a show. She sat down on the rotten boards, hidden from view, tears already beginning to flow, and tried to will the puppets to come to life. She needed to eat. Her mother hadn’t contacted Twilight for quite some time. Trixie had her pride.

Hoodwink wasn’t sure if she had hers.

Her horn flared, sparked, a sudden bright flash of orange, and nothing happened. She tried again, and again, each time to no avail, nothing happening, the puppets lay unmoving.

The crowd began to jeer and boo.

Hoodwink hoped that they would not demand a private show, whatever that meant. She didn’t want anything happening to her mother again. Or herself.

Fear gripped her.

She felt bone jarring tingle of another wild magic surge.

Not again...

Hoodwink awoke, covered in sweat, breathing heavily. Minerva was in her bed with her, pressed against her side. Brimstone was in the third bed of the room. He wasn’t supposed to be in here at night, while they slept, but he had been having trouble sleeping. They had snuck him in. Ivy was in her bunk above them. Hoodwink took a long deep breath and tried to calm her jittering nerves.

She felt something squirm against her other side. Something small wiggled under her blankets.

Hoodwink did what any filly her age would do when something weird wiggled in her bed. Something unknown.

She shrieked at the top of her lungs.

Minerva’s horn flared to life, filling the room with a piercing silver glow, instantly banishing all darkness. Brimstone was on his hooves in a second.

And Ivy was on the floor, tail lashing, teeth bared, crest fully extended. Her wings flared. It was moments like these that Ivy was least pony-like. She was something else entirely.

Hoodwink squirmed in the bed, trying to disentangle herself from Minerva, feeling something wiggle and squirm at her side. Minerva crawled over her, she heard Minerva’s hooves hitting the stone floor, and then she felt Ivy’s talons gently grab her by the leg and yank her out of bed, the metal and stone shredding tips never once breaking her skin.

Hoodwink struggled to get free of the sheets and whatever was crawling in the bed beside her.

Minerva’s light grew ever brighter.

Hoodwink saw something small and lavender moving. There was a rustle of fabric.

Her Twilight Sparkle stuffy was moving. It flapped its tiny fabric wings and looked up at her with beady button eyes.

The door opened quite suddenly, a unicorn guard entering the room, turning on the lights. More guards were coming. A bell rang in the distance.

The guard looked around the room, trying to find some threat. He looked at the fillies, then looked at Brimstone, and then his gaze fell on the small Twilight Sparkle stuffy.

It was looking at him and prancing on little pointed legs.

The guard remained silent.

There was a loud ear drum abusing POP as Luna suddenly materialised into the room, her wings flared, her eyes white with summoned magic, blue lightning crackling along her horn alarmingly. She was terrifying, and it caused every foal in the room to shriek with fright. Minerva’s silver light died.

“WHO DARES?!” Luna commanded, causing the balcony window to shatter.

Nopony seemed to dare. Luna stood there for several moments, trying to take in the situation.

There was another loud POP as Celestia came into being just outside the door. She pushed past the stunned guard and looked at her very puzzled sister.

The guard pointed downward, toward the floor.

Celestia looked downward.

And saw a tiny Twilight Sparkle. A Twilight Sparkle stuffy to be exact.

It peered up at her with shiny button eyes, the tiny stuffy trying to take in the white giant.

Luna looked down, curious, trying to make sense of what she saw.

“I had an accident I think.” Hoodwink said in a small voice.

“I’m so horned right now.” Brimstone muttered.

Hoodwink looked down at her stuffed toy. It had been old and a little ratty. She still loved it dearly. Now, it looked completely new. And it moved. Animated. Enchanted.

Celestia dropped her nose to the floor near the stuffy. She sniffed.

And the stuffy seemed to sniff back, touching Celestia’s nose with its own. It stared upward silently.

“What in Tartarus?” Said Luna in disbelief.

Celestia took a deep breath, taking all of this in. Ivy was peering at her and the stuffy. She was sniffing, her nose snuffling softly.

“Ivy, what do you smell?” Celestia asked after a few moments of allowing Ivy to concentrate.

“Dunno.” Ivy said, shrugging. “Something new.”

Celestia scowled. Luna raised her head. She nodded to the guard, who barked a command.

The hubbub in the hallway continued.

Celestia’s horn flared with golden light, surrounding the small stuffy in a sunny yellow glow. Tiny ears perked forward and a little head raised.

“Impossible.” Celestia said, her voice wavering. The Princess of the Day lost her composure completely. She blinked several times, trying to take in what she was seeing.

“What?” Said Luna, mildly concerned.

“This is alive.” Celestia said.

“What?” Said Luna again, not quite registering her sister’s words.

Celestia said nothing. Minerva clung to Hoodwink. Ivy clung to both of them.

Brimstone stood on the other side of the room, waiting for the coming lecture, and wishing he could take a look at whatever it was that was causing Celestia and his mother so much concern.

Luna lifted the tiny stuffy with her magic, staring at it with a quizzical eye. It trembled violently in her magical grasp.

“Put it down!” Ivy begged. “It is scared. I can smell it.” She said, pleading with Luna.

Luna set the small stuffy down on the table.

It was still made of fabric. It had button eyes. Stitching was still visible. It looked brand new, not like some well loved toy.

And it pranced along the tabletop, trying to beat a hasty retreat from Luna.

It stopped and fluttered its wings when it reached the edge of the table.

“My apologies.” Luna said, her voice diplomatic and velvety. She turned to the guard.

“Bushfire.” She barked.

“Yes your Majesty?” He replied.

“Send a few guards out into the city. Find a toy shop. Wake the owners if you must, but secure a dollhouse. And furniture. Something that is enclosed and secure, not open on one side.” Luna said, her words careful and calm.

The guard looked utterly baffled at this request. He quickly recovered though. “Yes your Majesty. At once your Majesty.” He turned tail and left the room, shouting more orders. Confused grunts came from the hallway.

“We’ve scared it nearly to death probably.” Luna explained, looking around the room, meeting each pair of eyes. She glared a few extra seconds at Brimstone, causing him to turn away.

“Check for other dolls in the room.” Celestia said, her eyes widening.

There was a hurried search. Ivy’s dolls were on a shelf, sitting near an empty cushion. Neither of them moved.

Minerva’s stuffy was on the bookshelf, sitting on a book. It was a small stuffed version of Cadance.

It too, was unmoving.

Celestia sighed and looked down at Twilight Sparkle in miniature.

“A dollhouse Luna?” Celestia asked.

“Well, what else?” Luna said, slightly annoyed. “We have a visitor. An entirely new lifeform. It is currently a guest in our castle and it seems to be quite frightened according to Ivy. And I would agree. It stands in the company of giants, probably wondering what it is doing and why it is here. It has nowhere to feel safe and secure. We owe it some comfort.”

Celestia began to reassemble the balcony window with her magic.

The tiny figure paced back and forth on the table top.

Hoodwink stared with open eyes at the small figure, trying to take in what she had done.

“I tried to tell you that this might happen sister.” Luna said, her voice low.

Celestia sighed, not in the mood. The balcony window came together piece by piece.

“This is entirely new magic.” Luna stated. “This isn’t simple enchantment or animation. Intelligence has been created. This creature thinks. Look at it, trying to figure out its surroundings. This isn’t some mindless golem like the giant stone pony from the square, bent on destruction. We have a responsibility to acknowledge this and take steps to make sure it is respected and valued as a lifeform, however odd it might be.”

Celestia nodded, the window repaired.

“Hoodwink, what did you do?” Minerva said, her voice full of wonder.

Brimstone finally worked up the nerve to come forward, standing at the edge of the table, peering at the small figure. It approached him cautiously, watching him.

It sat down on its tiny haunches, stubby little hind legs protruding, small wings still flapping slightly.

“Hoodwink, what did you do?” Brimstone said, his crimson eyes wide with wonder.

Author's Note

How many of us want a living Twilight Sparkle stuffy?

The Visitor

The royal guard swarmed the skies, both solar and lunar pegasi, circling, watching, and waiting. A dragon soared over Canterlot. It had flown in, unannounced, just showing up on the horizon, flying in toward the city.

The guards dared not provoke it. It seemed peaceful enough, for the time being. It was immense. Green. As long as a tower was tall.

And it flew directly for the palace. Purpose and intent unknown.

It landed in the courtyard, causing the castle to tremble. It sat on its haunches, carefully curling its tail in, trying not to crush anything, being very careful of all the tiny things swarming around it.

Guards landed everywhere. On walls. Around the dragon. On top of the gatehouse. On the rooftops.

The solar guards were clearly terrified. You could see panic in every fluttering wing. The lunar guards on the other hoof, they knew they could take this foe, but it would be costly. They gathered around, trying to place themselves between the dragon and their smaller cousins.

Celestia emerged onto the pronouncement balcony, the high balcony where the Princesses addressed their subjects. Where Twilight had given her first address. She looked up at the enormous dragon, feeling a bit of worry. She didn’t want anymore ponies being hurt, not after everything that had happened.

The dragon looked down at her and nodded its head.

“I understand that one of my own dwell here,” the dragon rumbled, “I would have words with her. If you please.”

Celestia stood silently for a moment, confused, and then snapped into reality.

“Fetch Ivy at once.” Celestia said to a guard.

The guard left in a hurry.

The dragon looked down at Celestia, who was looking up at it.

“I hope that you have come in peace.” Celestia said, her voice booming over the commotion. “We have come upon troubled times, we do not wish for more trouble.”

The dragon said nothing, but looked down at her. It didn’t smile, which Celestia took as a good sign. A smiling dragon would probably unhinge the guard. The dragon scratched absentmindedly at its belly while it waited.

Celestia felt a tail coil around her hind leg after a few tense minutes of waiting. She heaved a sigh of relief. She turned to look at Ivy, who was cowering behind her.

“Ivy,” said Celestia, “you must be brave for all of us.” Celestia’s tone was full of encouragement.

Ivy looked up at the dragon and suddenly felt very small. It extended its claws toward her. She shook with fear but held her ground next to Celestia.

Ivy’s tail betrayed her, as it had done so many times before. It coiled around the extended claws of the much larger dragon.

Ivy’s mind raced as she was lifted high up into the air, the blood suddenly rushing to her brain. She tried to remember every single one of her father’s lessons about draconic etiquette and wished that she had paid more attention. She owed her father a heartfelt apology.

“Hello tiny cousin!” The dragon rumbled enthusiastically. “I had hoped we could speak. I have much to tell you.”

Ivy swallowed, her mouth suddenly feeling dry. She was little more than a tiny mouthful. She hung, suspended just a few feet away from the dragon’s toothy maw. The smell of smoke was strangely comforting to her.

“My name is Climbing Ivy.” She said, willing courage into her voice. “Why are you here? In my domain? I hope that you plan to leave my hoard in peace, I would not disturb yours if I was visiting you.”

The dragon stared at her, its eyes narrowing. It nodded slowly.

“My name is Jadefire. I do not desire to disturb your domain. You have a hoard already tiny one?” The dragon asked, puzzled.

“Yes!” Ivy squeaked, feeling very small.

The dragon peered at her. “I find that very hard to believe tiny cousin.”

“My hoard is all around you.” Ivy said. “I ask that you leave them in peace.”

The dragon looked around, realisation dawning. It smiled at Ivy, causing a severe disturbance among the guard. It looked down upon all of the little ponies clustered about.

Ivy smiled in return, looking hopeful.

“All of these are yours?” The dragon asked, seeming to enjoy this exchange of pleasantries.

“Yes.” Ivy said, hanging from the dragon’s finger. “Mine! Every single one that you see. Touch nothing!”

“You are going to be a very fat little dragon.” Jadefire said slyly.

Ivy looked horrified.

“My apologies.” Jadefire offered. “My comment was in jest. I did not mean to disturb you. I will not molest your valuables.”

Ivy took a deep breath. “Why are you here?” Ivy asked, getting to the point.

The dragon pointed at Celestia with its other claw. “This one is especially beautiful. Be wary. Others of our kind may grow envious.”

Ivy waited patiently, looking the dragon in the eye.

“I have come with a message.” Jadefire said. “A warning.”

Ivy said nothing, but waited.

“Many centuries ago, this one,” the dragon said, gesturing at Celestia, “prevented a group of unicorns from chopping me up for study when I was about your size.”

Jadefire paused, watching Ivy’s reaction. The dragon seemed impressed by Ivy’s sudden anger. Its eyes narrowed and a crafty look appeared upon the dragon’s face.

“I have come to return the favour. We dragons have long memories. It would be dishonourable for this debt to go unpaid.” Jadefire became very serious. “I have come on behalf of my clan. We hope to continue the peace held between us. We know that you still occasionally fight with other dragon clans, but our intentions remain peaceful. We have had visitors, strange unicorns, trying to purchase our favour with gifts and flattery.” Jadefire stared at Ivy.

“Why tell me?” Ivy asked. “You could have told Celestia.”

Jadefire began to chuckle. “I knew I was forgetting something.”

Ivy looked at him, her face stern. She pointed a talon and shook it at the dragon. “This isn’t funny. You’ve spooked my hoard.”

Jadefire looked taken aback. “I am sorry, tiny cousin.” Jadefire offered.

“Shame on you!” Ivy exclaimed, causing Celestia some extreme distress. Celestia’s wings fluttered alarmingly. “You know you are big and scary and this isn’t time for draconic humour!”

Jadefire cleared his throat with a smokey rumble, cringing, and looking slightly guilty.

“My clan has heard word of you living here among these tiny mammals. We hope that you could act as our diplomat.” Jadefire looked at Celestia, dropping his head slightly and addressing her directly. “We wish to foster good relations. There are disagreements about addressing non dragon kind. We know of Spike and Climbing Ivy. We would claim them as our own clanmates and offer them positions as diplomats. Should any harm ever come upon either of them, we would claim the right of retribution, as is the privilege of our kind. They will be our messengers. Or means of communications. I understand that you know certain spells…”

Celestia nodded, saying nothing.

“Excellent!” Jadefire bellowed. “We would like to work together. Recent events concern us. We do not want a return to the bad old days of fighting between our kind. Our hatchlings chopped up for spell ingredients.” Jadefire looked again upon Celestia. “You made the fighting stop. At least between my clan and your ponies.” Jadefire’s gaze returned to Ivy. “Should there be trouble, know that we will come if called. Our clan is most reasonable. Most of us are scholars. We hoard books. We do not wish our studies interrupted.”

Ivy heard Celestia take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“We do ask for something in return though.” Jadefire said, suddenly very serious.

Ivy heard Celestia’s sharp intake of breath.

“I ask for two treasures from among your hoard to come and live with us, as an exchange. That we might teach them. We will not allow harm to come to them.” Jadefire gazed intently upon Ivy. “At least for a time. We understand that these tiny mammals have very short lives. We do not want them forever. Just for a time. That we might learn together and exchange knowledge. We would like them when they are extra tiny, as you and Spike are now, we would love them as our own, in the same way that you are loved by these miniscule equines. It is a very reasonable request.”

“Celestia?” Ivy asked. “What do I do?”

Jadefire scowled. “She does not have a say in this. You and I must first come to an agreement before she has a say in these issues. After you and I finalise our exchange, Celestia will be free to discuss petty details with me.”

Ivy froze, her chest tightening, not knowing what to do.

“What of Spike?” Ivy asked.

“We did not know his exact location. We knew of yours. I was sent to bargain with you.” Jadefire said.

“I do not know if I can make a choice like this on my own.” Ivy said.

“You must.” Jadefire said.

“You’ve put me on the spot.” Ivy said. “Does your mother know how rotten you are? Forcing me to make a choice like this. You shame your shell!”

Jadefire visibly shrank back from the tiny form of Ivy hanging from his finger.

“If my mother was here, she’d give you such a lecturing! And you wouldn’t be the first dragon she has lectured. She’s had practice!” Ivy shook her talon finger at the dragon with every word, causing the dragon’s spines to droop.

“You must be the one to make this choice.” Jadefire said, cringing. “It is a test of your position as a diplomat.”

Ivy scowled, curling her lip back from her teeth and flaring her nostrils.

“I accept.” Ivy said in a commanding tone. “But know this, if any of my hoard becomes damaged, your honour is forfeit.”

Jadefire nodded.

“Your kind has done well raising this one.” Jadefire said, addressing Celestia directly once again. “She’s sassy!” Jadefire added, sounding eerily similar to a certain draconequus.

Author's Note

Imagine the size of a dragon's teacup...

A Mother's Reflection

Fluttershy lay in bed contemplating the life growing in her belly. Discord was coiled around her, her head resting on his shaggy side, his long body conforming to her every contour as it provided a place for her to rest upon.

It was a quiet tender moment between the two.

Fluttershy contemplated everything that was happening, and everything that had happened. And Ivy had been in the middle of so much of it. Just as she had once been, long ago, going on adventures with her friends.

She was now a homebody.

She felt a tail rub in lazy circles against her rounded belly. She stretched and sprawled out further, kicking out her legs and yawning. She felt Discord shift slightly, adjusting to catch her delicate form, cradling every inch of her.

He said nothing.

Rarity was gone. Fluttershy felt a pang of sadness and reflected upon her friend. Twilight was crushed, inconsolable, secured away in the Crystal Empire with Cadance and her brother Shining Armor. She wished she could see Twilight, but now was not a good time to be traveling. Rainbow Dash had been by every few days, almost like clockwork, becoming close again. Rainbow Dash was forming a militia for Ponyville in memory of her fallen friend. It brought comfort and made the townsponies feel secure. Pinkie Pie had been by almost daily, bringing fresh baked goods, and rubbing Fluttershy’s growing belly for good luck with her own.

And then there was Applejack, who kept them all together. She felt a warm sense of gratitude for her friend.

She felt a fuzzy lion’s leg wrap around her barrel, squeezing her. She felt secure. Safe. She felt a rumbling heat in Discord’s belly. It was soothing to her aching back. Discord no longer had magic, but he had means to keep her safe. She pressed her body against his, relishing the warmth.

Discord still had fire, common to all draconic entities. With his magic, he had no need for fire, and had ignored it for a very long time. Now, he stoked his fiery gift daily, gaining practice and restoring his skill. If something came for those he loved, he would be ready.

He also made a fantastic heating pad.

Fluttershy reveled in the warmth.

She missed Ivy. But Ivy had work to do. Important work. Growing up. Becoming everything that Fluttershy hoped that she could be. Ivy had to prove herself. Ivy had been proving herself. Ivy had friends now. Fluttershy hoped that she and Discord and had done everything possible for whatever lied ahead.

Fluttershy knew that whatever lied ahead, Ivy would be in the thick of it somehow. It scared her. Ivy was a magnet for chaos. Fluttershy knew this, and it worried her, the strain of not knowing what might happen next. She felt the long familiar chill of panic begin to rise in her chest and a faint cry tremored in her throat. The lion paw paused over her heart, pressing gently, and she felt the panic flee.

Draconic entities were great for restoring one’s confidence and removing fear.

Fluttershy sighed contentedly and sprawled out even more, rolling her belly upward towards the sunlight streaming through the window. She closed her eyes, feeling warmth on both sides of her body.

Even in these troubled times, she felt a sense of peace. She yawned.

“If anything saw us through the window, they’d die from your adorableness.” Discord commented, finally saying something. “You’re so delightfully pudgy!” He squeezed Fluttershy, causing her to gasp. “The way you yawn!” He shook his head.

Fluttershy looked into the standing mirror in the corner of the room, actually liking what she saw, admiring her own reflection. It was something new for her. She saw her belly, large, rounded, protruding out past her delicate ribs. She saw Discord wrapped around her. The way she sprawled, which is not at all feminine at the moment. But she felt feminine. She felt good about herself. About her body. Her life. Her accomplishments, the greatest of which was family. She remembered for a moment how she used to be. Frightened of every little thing. Of life. She still was, deep inside, and she knew this, but she had a protector. She had her friends. She had her family, which was about to grow.

She finally understood what it meant to be a pegasus and feel invincible. She no longer feared the storms as they came rolling in.

“Discord,” she said, her tone sultry, “I need to feel like a mare again. If you don’t mind. If that would be OK. If it isn’t too much trouble. If you could find the time…”

Discord smiled. She always knew just what to say.

“But you just felt like a mare not a half an hour ago.” Discord cackled, giving Fluttershy a goose with his tail that caused her to squeal.

There was a knock upon the door downstairs.

“Whatever it is that controls our lives keeps making that happen!” Discord said, annoyed. “What is it with doors and ponies knocking upon them?”

He uncoiled himself from Fluttershy and slunk off down the stairs to answer the door, hissing as he went.

Fluttershy rolled over and made herself presentable, trying to rid the flush from her cheeks.

Rainbow Dash burst through the bedroom door, hovering. Her face was panicked.

Fluttershy felt her heart leap up into her throat.

“Gala’s sick!” Rainbow Dash cried. “Real bad! We gotta go right now! Applejack needs us!”

Author's Note

A short brief chapter, a transition, as we now move into the end game.

Hold on folks.

Gala

Ivy and her companions hurtled through the sky. Mare Nectaris pulled the small chariot solo, moving swiftly, tearing through the night. A massive flight of lunar pegasi filled the sky around them, with Luna at their lead.

It had been agonising waiting for the night to come, Ivy reflected. But it has been the only way that Luna and Celestia had agreed to allow Ivy to visit her friend Gala, who now lay sick in Ponyville Hospital.

Mare Nectaris had promised a swift flight, and she delivered upon her promises. The lights in the distance grew closer with every passing second.

The four companions all marveled at how the night kept growing quieter and quieter. It became difficult to talk to one another.

Ivy felt Brimstone squeeze her and she felt a little better.

The lights were very close now, and the chariot was slowing down. Lanterns had been left on the roof. Mare Nectaris slowed, her large wings pummeling the air around her into submission, a brutish growl escaped her throat as she guided the chariot in for a landing.

They landed with a clatter and a thump. Two dozen lunar guards landed all around them, surrounding the hospital and covering the roof.

The new guard were exceptionally good at what they did best. None of them were whole creatures. Missing eyes, missing ears, horrible scars, shriveled skin from terrible burns, all of them marked in some way. They were all consummate survivors.

Luna was wearing armor. It wasn’t that she needed armor, she didn’t, but the image she projected in armor gave the public what it needed. Comfort. A warrior in the night, there to defend them. Luna finally had what she had always craved. Ponies that appreciated what she did.

She clanked softly as she strode over the roof, walking to the door that allowed rooftop access. It opened as she approached. She stood, waiting, watching, guarding, as four foals walked towards the door in line single file. Mare Nectaris stood by.

Ivy walked down the hall, her claws clicking, surrounded by guards on all sides. It wasn’t long before they came to a door. It was partially open.

She stood, frozen, just outside the door, fearing what she would find. She felt a nudge, then another, and finally, a nose pressed against her long neck. She pushed her way through the door.

Gala lay in a bed, covered in a blanket, sleeping. Applejack lay in a bed next to her, her face still shiny with tears, her green eyes red and bloodshot. She looked awful.

Ivy crawled into bed with Applejack and hugged her. She closed her eyes and lay there in the dim room, feeling Applejack’s warmth, unable to say anything. She heard hushed voices out in the hall and the clank of armor.

Ivy felt the tears come and she did little to hold them back, sobbing as quietly as possible.

Quite some time had passed. Ivy was not sure how long. She may have been dozing. She was still held tightly against the orange pony she called her aunt. Somepony else was in the room. She rolled over, squirming, seeing a doctor.

“Who are you?” Ivy asked.

“I am Doctor Hickory.”

“What happened?” Ivy asked.

The doctor frowned. Stars shone in through the window.

He cleared his throat. “Gala was infected with parasites. Either through drinking bad water or swimming perhaps. We’re treating her with antibiotics and anti parasitic medication. She’s going to be fine.”

“LIAR!” Applejack roared. Coming from the Element of Honesty, the accusation was exceptionally painful.

Doctor Hickory cringed.

“There’s going to be a few complications.” The doctor said in a low voice.

“A few?” Applejack hissed, squeezing Ivy.

The doctor drooped.

“Gala is going to be deaf and mute. Her inner ear and her parts of her throat were badly damaged. At least she’ll live. We got to her in time. Others aren’t so lucky.”

Applejack was silent.

“Isn’t there something you can do to fix this? Magic? Something?” Ivy asked. Ivy saw Luna and Brimstone standing in the door. Luna was shaking her head no, her expression pained.

“This happens all the time.” The doctor said patiently. “Deafness is a common problem for a variety of reasons. The best we can do is chalk and a slate and trust in the good graces of ponies.”

“That isn’t enough.” Brimstone said in a low voice. “That doesn’t fix anything.”

“Best we can do.” Doctor Hickory offered.

“I don’t believe that.” Brimstone said.

“Brimstone, enough. This isn’t a good time for your defiance.” Luna said in a gentle whisper.

“No.” Brimstone said. “There has to be something that somepony can do. Something needs to be done. How can this problem be ignored?”

“Enough Brimstone!” Luna said in an angry whisper. “This has been a problem for a long time. Some things can’t be changed.”

“Yes they can!” Brimstone said, his voice rising. “If you want it bad enough.”

“Silence Brimstone!” Luna said, her voice becoming angry. “Some things can’t be changed, no matter how badly we want them.”

“THAT’S NOT TRUE!” Brimstone shouted. “You changed things for me because you wanted it.”

Luna stood there, looking as though she had been slapped. She stared down at Brimstone in a state of shock and surprise.

“Things can change.” Brimstone said. “You have to want them bad enough. Somepony has to care enough to make the change happen.” Brimstone turned his gaze towards Ivy. “Ivy, I don’t know how, but I promise, I am going to find a way to fix this for you. I will make it better. I can do better than a chalk and slate.”

Luna glared at the colt she called her own. “Brimstone, be careful with your promises.” She said, her voice low and sad. “If you fail to deliver, Ivy will be heartbroken.”

“I will not fail.” Brimstone said, his usual defiance turned up to downright belligerent levels. “We are beset on all sides with enemies and I can do nothing. We don’t even know who our enemies are at this point. You struggle, and you fight, and I am stuck in a castle unable to do anything. This is something I know I can fight. This is an enemy that I can engage. I will find a way.” He glared at his mother.

“You are my foal.” Luna said. “I expect you to thrash this foe. Do not return to me in failure.” Her voice was cold. “If you break Ivy’s heart, it will be a long time to earn my forgiveness.”

Brimstone swallowed, suddenly somewhat afraid. He didn’t show it.

Author's Note

Next chapter. Brimstone's nemesis.

Brimstone's Nemesis

It had been a rough week for Brimstone. He was distracted from class, distant from his friends, and his relationship with his mother was strained. Painfully strained. Luna cared for only one thing. Results. She had left a note under his door, a warning once again about noble gestures and the price required for making them.

And it concerned him. He didn’t have a clue about what to do. Brimstone’s real talent was language. At least, as far as he was concerned. Stink and strangling gas came second. And now, he was staring at the wall in class, listening to the teacher drone on and on about magical theory. All around the class, ears were drooping as students slowly succumbed to the coma the lecture had in store for them. Out of all of them, Brimstone was the only one who looked attentive, but magical theory was the furthest thing from his mind. The teacher seemed pleased that Brimstone was awake and alert. Candlewax’s lessons were surprisingly like her name. Long, with slow steady dribbles.

Ivy looked like she was going to expire at any moment. Her tail was completely asleep, laying limp and dead upon her desk, where nopony would step on it. Minerva looked nearly comatose, her chin shiny with drool. Hoodwink’s head kept snapping forward with a snort as she struggled to stay awake.

All around him, Brimstone watched little ears as they drooped, waiting for little ponies to nod off.

Candlewax continued to drone on. And on. And on. Her class had started early in the morning and would last until noon. She was nattering on about wild surges and the theories that existed about why they happened. It was something that Brimstone already knew, and knew quite well. He had detailed notes about it from an earlier project. Precious notes, notes that he wouldn’t let Hoodwink come near. Hoodwink was the destroyer of well made notes. Brimstone hated her just a tiny bit for her merciless destruction of words and her need to bring what she called clarity. He hated her just a wee bit because she really did bring clarity. Her edited notes were right to the point and could be combed through in minutes, while his notes took hours to read and understand.

And Hoodwink was just a little too smug about it.

A week and nothing. It was becoming unbearable. Not one idea. Nothing. Just a fevered empty brain. His brain had never failed him like this before. Usually, he had ideas, even if they were bad ones. Candlewax’s monotone was becoming almost painful now, each word cutting into his thoughts, protruding, unwanted entry into his mind, which was failing him.

It was only ten o’ clock.

Candlewax went on about wild surges, talking about Twilight Sparkle’s famous surges of pure raw magic and the chaotic results they brought about, the rare example of harmonious magic becoming completely and utterly unpredictable.

More ears were drooping, some of them completely against little heads, and little heads were bobbing. Some fell onto desks with a thump, waking them up and causing them to snort and blink with embarrassment. Candlewax’s chalk danced against the board, producing the most horrible screeching, causing the class to instantly shudder awake as one.

Every ear in the class rose upon hearing the chalk.

And Brimstone’s mind remained empty. Blank. A quiet rage began to fill him, resenting these intrusions. Candlewax’s snore inducing monotone. Every snort, every cough, every clearing of every throat, it all filled him with a quiet seething rage.

Brimstone realised what was happening, and drew his emotions into a tight ball of control. No. No more mistakes. Ever. No more accidents. Those he loved were in this room. The thought of hurting them caused even more emotional turmoil. He pressed that down as well. He squashed it down, burying it deep, resenting himself even more that this posed a problem.

Brimstone took every emotion he had and violently evicted it from his conscious mind with a vicious inner snarl, flogging his brain into submission, his frustration manifesting outwardly with an audible grunt in his throat.

Brimstone exploded once again, leaving behind a cloud of malodorous stench and a rapidly growing flood of vomit in the room that he had just exited.

Elsewhere…

Luna was sleeping soundly. Her head lay on a pillow covered in black silk, with delicate purple trim. She lay in a dreamless sleep, recharging her mind and trying to prepare herself for whatever the night might bring.

And she was rudely awoken by her foal exploding violently into existence above her once again. She coughed and gagged, thankful that her stomach was empty, and Brimstone fell from the high ceiling above her. He landed on her, both of them making grunts from the sudden collision.

“Brimstone, we must stop meeting like this.” Luna said, still gagging slightly. Luna rubbed her eyes, trying to clear her vision, green smoke everywhere.

“Mother, I need you. Please don’t send me away…” Brimstone pleaded.

Luna lifted her foal slightly away from her using her magic, then she lifted her blanket with a foreleg, and then pulled Brimstone close to her, covering both of them with the blanket as she lowered her leg and curled it around him.

“I’m so afraid of failing.” Brimstone said, his voice pleading. “Please, indulge me this once. Don’t punish me for weakness.”

Luna lay there, quiet. Usually she pushed Brimstone ever onward, and Brimstone responded well to the pushing. Now was clearly not one of those times. Now, he was a scared little foal once again, not an adult trapped in a foal’s body. She felt him snuggle closer to her, pressing against her, quiet sobs beginning to wrack his body.

She let him cry as she held him, waiting for the worst to pass. She also took comfort in this moment, as it had been a long while since they had been this close.

“I’ve made a mistake mother.” Brimstone said. “I made a promise I don’t think I can keep. I’m so ashamed. I don’t know how to face Ivy. Or my friends. Or you. I ran my mouth and now I can’t deliver what I had promised.”

Luna said nothing, but squeezed. Now was not the time for harsh lessons. Brimstone seemed remarkably fragile at the moment, not at all his usual self.

The stench clung to the room, the smoke lingering, and Luna wondered how Brimstone had managed to break through the powerful wards protecting her personal and private chambers.

Luna felt her heart slowly breaking, realising that Brimstone was going to learn a very harsh lesson. Luna knew that Brimstone’s friends would forgive him. She would forgive him, of course, but Brimstone would probably never forgive himself. He was too tightly wound. This was going to be a lasting wound that would fester and become worse with time.

It was as she had feared.

And Luna continued to say nothing, letting Brimstone have his moment of weakness. When Brimstone needed her to goad him onward, she knew that he give a sign, and their usual relationship would resume. But for now, she was content with this moment, holding him close, feeling his warmth, feeling his breath against where her neck and chest met one another. She felt the sobs subside, and his breathing deepened. And she knew that he had fallen asleep. He had finally sniffled and snotted his way to sleep, leaving a wet and slightly gooey place upon her chest scruffle, the thick and slightly curly patch of hair usually held in check by her lunar regalia.

It didn’t take long for Luna to resume her slumber, smiling broadly, glad to have her foal.

Later…

Brimstone awoke. He squirmed slightly, and then stopped, not wanting to wake his mother. He yawned, doing so as silently as possible.

“Sleep well?” Luna asked, pulling him closer.

Brimstone nodded, not thinking that Luna wouldn’t be able to see it.

“Brimstone?” Luna asked, her voice as soft and gentle as the moon rising on a spring evening, her legs gently pulling him close and cradling him, her body radiating a quiet sense of love.

“Yes mother?” He replied, feeling uncertain, worried what his mother might say, a faint trace of panic beginning to buzz in his brain.

“You made a promise. A well intentioned promise.” Luna paused, feeling her foal beginning to shudder once again. “Be still Brimstone.” She whispered gently. “You made this promise and I expect you to keep it. I know that you will find a way, even if it takes you a little longer than you might have expected. If you must, you will spend your life trying to find a way. But I will hold you to it. Because I believe that you can. Clear the clutter from your mind, gather up your strength, and take courage. I know the depth and breadth of your mind. Most would fail to keep this promise. I know that you will. Do not disappoint me by giving up. I expect you to keep trying, even if it seems that there are no results to be found.”

Brimstone took in her words, taking each one to heart. He had feared her fury, and while there was the possibility of her anger at some point, now was not that point. He pressed his face against her, drawing deep breaths, thankful for this moment of respite.

“It is late afternoon,” Luna said. “We should rise, find something to eat, and you should attend to whatever tasks you may have.”

A short while later…

Brimstone strode down the hall, a new sense of confidence kindled in his chest. He thought about everything he had in his life. He had a bright future in the Royal Guard. Shining Armor had taken him seriously… And Brimstone had already spoken to a unicorn about future officer training. His mother believed in him. He had a special somepony that really, really liked him and wasn’t bothered by his smell. And two very special friends that accepted him without reservations, even if one was a notorious note destroyer. He walked with his head high, nose upward, his hooves practically bouncing with each step.

It was a good day to be Brimstone. He had no idea how he was going to fix his problem, but he didn’t care at the moment. It was just too good of a day to be Brimstone. He had something that he had to do while his spirits were riding high. A certain task. It had to be done. He had to stop being so shy and reserved and not be afraid of expressing his feelings. He had been open and honest with his mother, and it had all worked out. And now, it was a great day to be Brimstone. Yes it was.

He rounded the corner, coming closer to his private quarters and the room of the three fillies that were his friends. Well, two fillies as friends, and one filly a friend in a very different way. He licked his lips, feeling a faint prickle of fear. He pushed it away. He was Brimstone. And this was a great day to be Brimstone.

He pushed the door open and heard surprised cries of greetings of three fillies happy to see him. He ignored two of them, at least for now, as he had something he had to do. He turned, looking at Ivy, who was sitting at the table, licking some apple butter from a spoon.

He went straight for her, never slowing, never stopping. She looked surprised, frozen, the spoon fell out of her talons and clattered to the table. He invaded Ivy’s personal space, pulling her close, wrapping his forelegs around her long neck, trying to pull her in, and then planted his two lips upon hers.

He heard squeals and woo woo noises from Hoodwink and Minerva, cheering him on. He could taste a faint hint of sweetness in the kiss. Apple butter. He felt Ivy’s lips open slightly, hot smoky breath blowing hot against his lips, and Ivy began to let out a long squeal of surprise as he planted a long wet sloppy and oh so very clumsy kiss on her lips.

He finally pulled away with a wet smack, leaving her stunned and breathless. “That’s going in the journal.” Brimstone said, unable to think of anything better. His mouth tasted of apple butter and smoke. Ivy remained in his embrace, unable to speak, her ears pivoting around wildly upon her head.

Brimstone watched her ears. Her beautiful tufted ears. They were graceful. Delicate. Brimstone sometimes daydreamed about whispering things into them but he hadn’t quite found the courage to do so.

But now, her ears were doing something else to him.

“Ivy!” He exclaimed. “You’re brilliant!” He pulled her in for another clumsy kiss, this time daring to nibble lightly on her lower lip with his teeth, squeezing her as hard as he dared.

He let go of her, raising his forelegs into the air as he balanced on his haunches, his body leaning against table. “I have a brilliant idea!” He exclaimed as Ivy fell to the floor with a thump, her eyes pointing in different directions, her face an expression of love struck confusion, her ears still flailing about wildly.

“What did you do to Ivy?” Minerva said with some concern.

“Nothing that Ivy didn’t deserve.” Replied Hoodwink, looking down at her friend, watching her eyes roll about wildly. She picked up Ivy’s spoon and placed it upon a small plate, and put the lid on the apple butter.

A faint giggle finally came from Ivy.

The two fillies ignored her. “You said something about an idea?” Minerva said, looking at Brimstone.

“Yes I did!” Brimstone replied, his brain full of crazy feelings that he lacked the words to describe. “Ivy’s ears gave me a brilliant idea.”

Ivy continued to titter on the floor, clutching her tail and squeezing, her hind legs kicking and twitching around a bit.

“So, out with it!” Hoodwink demanded.

“Ponies say everything they really mean with their ears!” Brimstone shouted, his excitement boiling over. “Ponies say one thing sometimes, but their ears say another. Look at Ivy’s ears right now. How they move. All of the range of motion. Think about how we communicate with our ears. We can say so much without saying anything at all sometimes. Concern. Anger. Sadness. Boredom. Love.” Brimstone paused, and looked at Ivy, who was looking up at him with a cockeyed grin of adoration. “She’s beautiful.” Brimstone whispered, looking down.

“Help me understand Brimstone.” Minerva said, her face twisting into her concentration mode. Her brows furrowed. It was a look Brimstone was pleased to see.

“I don’t know yet.” Brimstone said, shrugging. “We assign an ear position or perhaps a movement of an ear or both ears in a certain way to a letter in the alphabet, with special ear gestures for common words.”

Hoodwink fell silent, trying to take it all in. Her mouth dropped open. “Brimstone…” she whispered, her eyes going wide with realisation, “you, you are brilliant.”

“I’m nothing without Ivy.” Brimstone said, suddenly very serious. “If I hadn’t of kissed her, I don’t think this idea would have happened.

Ivy pulled herself up, her talons gripping the table, she was still breathing heavily, a dopey grin on her face. She wobbled unsteadily. “Brimstone, I had no idea…” Ivy began.

Brimstone cut her off with another kiss, this one short and brief, but on the lips.

Ivy fell over with a thump once again, laying on the floor breathless.

“I’m going to need your help.” Brimstone said. “To make an ear alphabet. An ear language. Something that all ponies can use, without magic. A piece of chalk and slate is too slow and clumsy for everyday language and sentences. Plus, chalk tastes terrible. Imagine having to bite down on chalk every time you wanted to say something. It wouldn’t take long before you didn’t want to say anything at all, conditioned by the horrible flavour of the chalk into silence.”

“Brimstone, if you can make new words the same way you make stink, I think this will work.” Minerva said, becoming thoughtful.

“What about ponies that don’t know ear language?” Hoodwink asked.

Brimstone paused. He hadn’t thought of that yet. Giving the ability to speak back to a pony was useless if other ponies couldn’t understand what was being said. He scowled. This was a major flaw.

“Ponies will have to learn.” Ivy said, pulling herself together on the floor. She rose to her hind feet, scurried over to and then up the bunk bed, and climbed up to hang from the rafters. After she settled, suspended by her tail, she continued. “Family members. Friends. Those that know the deaf and mute pony will have to learn the language as well and act as translators for those that don’t know. But ponies will learn. They’ll have to. In time, the ear language should spread, as deafness is a problem. I’ve been doing a little reading.”

Brimstone looked up at Ivy, feeling his doubt melt. He wanted to kiss her again. But she was currently out of reach.

“We should get started.” Minerva said, rolling a pencil towards her with a hoof. As she did so, a tiny stuffed pony pranced over the table, pushing papers around with its nose. Minerva watched the small pony, marveling at what Hoodwink had done.

The stuffy pony was immensely helpful with schoolwork as they had discovered. It liked to leave everything cleaned up and organised upon the table.

“So we make some ear gesture, cocking one ear one way, one ear the other way, matching it up to each letter of the alphabet.” Minerva said, laying out the plan. “And we draw and make notes about each gesture, each letter, and once we have the alphabet down, we work on words.”

Brimstone nodded.

“This is a really good idea.” Hoodwink said. “Even if it takes time to catch on. Brimstone, you are going to be remembered for this. You made a new language.”

“No I didn’t.” Brimstone refuted. “I had help from my friends. WE did this. Well, we are going to do this, given enough time. I had the idea. But all of you make this possible. There is no way I could do this alone.”

It was a good day to be Brimstone.

Author's Note

Sign language for ponies. Whodathunkit?

So close to the end now, just a bit more to wrap up. A few loose ends. A little more growing up to do. A new language to create. Minerva has to meet up with a family member for a loving exchange of heartwarming affection.

Sorry this chapter took so long. It was originally very different. I had to completely rewrite it after nuking the original. The original was awful.

Thanks for reading folks.

Celestia's Vision Bears Fruit

Celestia and Luna strode down the hall together. They had formal summons from their students. Students they were mildly frustrated with. They had been skipping class. They had been holed up in their room. Not sleeping much. Rarely coming out for food. Not bathing. Not doing much of anything. All secreted away and doing some project. While Celestia and Luna both understood that the project, whatever it was, was important, there was still a sense of annoyance at being shut out. No information had been forthcoming. Luna had some suspicions, but kept them to herself. It could be something completely unrelated, she thought to herself. There were a lot of projects due.

Their students had been secluded for over two weeks. It caused Celestia to worry. Strange books had been checked out of the library. Anatomy books. Books about body language. Books about the central nervous system. Strange books for foals to be reading.

Celestia thought briefly about Twilight, who was still in the Crystal Empire, grief stricken. She wished she knew how to make Twilight feel better. Ivy had been worried, but then became engrossed in this mysterious project. Whatever this project was, it had pushed away all of the harsh realities of life. The foals were distracted. Something was up.

They approached the room where the four students had set up their demonstration. Celestia wished that Twilight and Cadance were here to see this, whatever it might be, but understood that it wasn’t possible at this time.

Luna opened the door and went in first, and Celestia followed.

Their students were dirty and disheveled. Little eyes were bloodshot and bleary. Manes were knotted and tangled. All of them were covered in charcoal dust, pencil shavings, and the remains of snacks gobbled while they had continued to work. They looked awful. Celestia realised they all looked a bit like Twilight Sparkle when she had been young.

Especially Brimstone. He looked positively frazzled, and he constantly looked at Luna with a worried sour look. And fear, Celestia realised. Fear. It pained her slightly. Brimstone took everything so seriously. There was no going halfway for him. All or nothing. No holding back.

Celestia and Luna sat down on cushions left on the floor. They exchanged a glance with one another, the sort of look only sisters could exchange, and waited patiently, knowing their curiousity was about to be satisfied.

Or so Celestia hoped.

The room was utterly silent. The four students moved and a tiny stuffy pony pranced upon a table, shoving two large sheets of paper towards Celestia and Luna with its nose. It stood there, looking at them, unable to say anything, and it bowed its head slightly. Luna returned the gesture.

Celestia looked down at the paper before her, not understanding what she saw. It was the alphabet, a series of words, and the entire page was covered in odd squiggles. She couldn’t quite figure out what it was she was looking at. And from the snort she heard from Luna, it seemed Luna was confused as well.

The four students sat down, facing one another, in groups of two. Ivy and Brimstone sat together, looking at Hoodwink and Minerva.

Celestia waited for an explanation but none was forthcoming. The four students sat there. Doing nothing.

No, Celestia realised. They were doing something. They were wiggling their ears at one another. Had she taken time out of a busy day to come and watch some silly foal game? She hoped not. She began to feel mildly impatient. The foals said nothing, but wiggled their ears at one another.

The tiny pony on the table was wiggling its ears as well. At Celestia. And standing on the paper, stomping a tiny pointed leg down upon the paper.

Celestia was baffled. And so was Luna, who was looking at her in complete confusion. Neither sister had the slightest clue what was going on. And the ear wiggling continued.

The tiny Twilight stuffy became impatient and began to prance over the paper, jumping from place to place, moving two tiny ears and staring up at her.

Luna began to stare intently at the tiny stuffy, utterly addlepated, her mouth hanging open.

Brimstone stared at them intently, giving them a wink, and wiggled his ears at his mother.

“What is the meaning of this.” Luna demanded.

Nopony said anything, but they all shrugged, holding a hoof up to their ear, pantomiming that they couldn’t hear her.

Luna let out a frustrated grunt and glared at her colt, her eyes narrowing, her mane beginning to whip around as it channeled her annoyance.

Celestia stared at the paper intently, looking for a clue. The tiny Twilight stuffy began to run in circles. Ears still wiggling wildly.

Watching her sister, Luna did the same. She stared at the paper, scowling, her patience nearly gone. A faint smell of ozone filled the room. Luna lifted the paper with her magic and brought it closer, not looking at the four foals and the distraction they presented. She studied the paper intently, glaring, her stare enough to spook a dragon.

Something nagged at Luna’s mind. She pulled the paper out of her vision and looked at the foals again. And then she pulled the paper back. Her mouth hung open, a slow realisation creeping into her brain, figuring out what the squiggly marks on the paper represented.

“They’re talking using their ears!” Celestia said, beating Luna to the punch.

Hoodwink looked directly at her teacher and began to wiggle her ears, causing them to pivot and swivel, moving slowly and carefully.

Celestia carefully watched the movement and checked the paper. Hoodwink began to repeat her pattern after a few moments. Celestia scowled, concentrating, placing ear movements together, trying to form words.

“Took you long enough…” Celestia muttered, and then she realised what she had just said. “Hoodwink!” Celestia snapped.

Hoodwink shrugged, and began to move her ears again.

“Hoodwink, enough. Speak to me this instant. So we can speak clearly.” Celestia said sharply.

Hoodwink shook her head no and continued to move her ears.

“Hoodwink, enough. I’d like a word with you. Now.” Celestia said, her voice rising slightly.

Hoodwink said nothing but continued her ear movements.

Celestia took up a pencil in her magic and began to scribble down the words as she translated them, carefully checking her student and the paper provided for translation. Hoodwink kept repeating her message, making the same ear movements over and over.

Celestia looked down at the words scribbled on the paper in front of her, written in her careful script.

“Deaf and dumb ponies cannot speak up.”

Celestia read the words again and again, they burned into her brain. The message was simple and direct. And painful.

Celestia began to weep, her eyes losing focus on the words she had scrawled. Luna snatched the paper, reading Celestia’s script. She sat in stunned silence, staring at Brimstone. Something hot burned in her chest, something blazing, like a new star being born. It burned through her body with so much heat that she worried it might consume her. She had no clue what she was feeling. She continued to stare at Brimstone. She realised he was speaking to her using his ears.

She snatched up a pencil and began to take notes like her sister had done.

It took a while, Luna was slow and careful, scratching down letters and words as she began to recognise them.

“I did not fail Ivy.”

Luna’s pencil clattered to the table, bounced, and clattered to the floor.

Thoughts whirled in Luna’s mind. She was witnessing something completely new. And she saw potential. Her brain burned as she tried to take in the possibilities. Her head shook, her own ears fidgeted, and something in her chest burned brighter when she looked at her foal.

“All of you.” Luna said, addressing them. “I know this was intended for Gala. But I want you to begin training the guard. All of them. As soon as possible. How much of this language is finished?”

The four students said nothing. Their ears had stopped moving.

“Brimstone, I am so proud of you. I am proud to call you my own. Not just as my student, but as my foal. And make no mistake, you are mine. I no longer care what others say. From this day forward, in all public addresses, I will be addressing you as my own. Somepony just try to stop me.” Luna said, her voice fierce.

Brimstone rose from his place, walked slowly around the table, and fell into his mother’s embrace, saying nothing.

Celestia regained her composure and looked at the other three. “I can barely comprehend what you have done. The four of you have come together and you have changed Equestria forever. I had hoped that when I had the idea of taking on four select students, that the idea would bear some fruit. This has exceeded my expectations. All of you have my humble thanks. What you have done here today will echo through generations. And all of you still foals, young, with so much life ahead of you. Long promising lives. I am proud to call you my students. In the future, I will expect even more from you, now that I know what you are capable of.”

Celestia paused, realising the Twilight stuffy was still wiggling its ears at her. She lowered her head toward the table, looking.

“It seems you finally have a voice little one.” Celestia said, wondering what the stuffy had to say.

Author's Note

And there we go. This chapter was done and waiting. I spent some time doing last minute checks and editing, and I hope I have everything. I'm sure somepony will tell me if I missed something.

If you enjoyed it, please tell me what ya think. Thanks!

And yes, the stuffy has much to say. I might have to write a spin off for the stuffy. Maybe. If anypony shows interest.

Twilight Splatter Interlude

Twilight Sparkle lay in a heap upon the bathroom floor, the cool tiles soothing against her fevered skin. She was sore, aching, her stomach felt torn open, her back hurt, and every muscle felt strained. Stretched to the point of tearing. She felt the churning in her gut and struggled up to her hooves, just managing to get her head over the toilet to throw up once more.

Nothing but bile was coming out now, bitter, sour, the foul contents of her stomach clung inside her nose, causing a terrible stink that caused her stomach to churn even more.

She sank back down to the tile floor with a groan, miserable.

Twilight Sparkle lay dying.

At least, she had convinced herself of that. She certainly felt that way. And living didn’t hold much appeal right now. She realised that she had collapsed into a puddle of something that had missed the toilet.

A wing twitched. She couldn’t be bothered to care more than a simple wing twitch. Her mane was plastered to her head and neck. Her feathers were all out of order, not having been preened for who knows how long.

Another round of bile was making its exit. Twilight didn’t even try to get up this time. She lay there in a fetid puddle, not caring. The strain caused something to exit out the back end as well. She retreated a little farther into her mind, hoping it would be over soon.

Twilight continued to lay there, not moving. Not caring. In filth.

There was a click from the door and the sounds of hooves on the tile. There was a loud sniff.

“Twilight?” Cadance said softly.

Cadance didn’t like what she was looking at.

“Shining? Don’t come in here, but please, go get a doctor at once.” Cadance frowned. Nopony should see Twilight like this. Cadance went to work, trying to clean Twilight up.

Some time later…

Cadance and Shining Armor both scowled as they stood looking at Twilight. She lay in a bed, sedated, heavily medicated, and out cold. A feeding tube was up her nostril, and and an IV had been placed in a foreleg.

“Are you sure?” Cadance asked.

“I am positive.” Doctor Rose Quartz replied.

“Poor Twily. After everything else.” Shining said.

“But this is good news.” The doctor argued.

Cadance nodded, but said nothing.

“This is going to be a slap in the face for her.” Shining said, looking at Cadance.

“So has everything else Shining.” Cadance said gently.

“The stress and grief has been entirely too much on her, along with her current complication. She needs time to rest and recover. Away from stress and strain. Shield her from it as much as possible. She should recover. Right now, she’s badly dehydrated and in need of some nutritional supplements.” Rose Quartz looked at her patient. “And NO magic. No strain. No burning away of precious calories. Not in her state. I’ll be checking on her every day.”

Cadance nodded. She leaned against Shining Armor, fearing for her sister in law.

Author's Note

Brief chapter, I know. Meant to transition and foreshadow. We're not going to hear much else from Twilight at this point, in this story.

Almost over now.

Three

Celestia reflected upon everything that had happened. It seemed like only a few moments. Short moments in her long life. Canterlot had been invaded once, not too long ago, and then there had been the night of burning, somewhat recently.

She thought of her students and what they had done. Everything that they had done. They had grown in leaps and bounds, full of endless potential, finding ways to overcome almost any task placed before them, and trusting in one another. A powerful friendship had formed. Hoodwink stood as the head of that friendship, in a solid position of leadership. Celestia felt hope, burning through her, as hot as the sun, optimism blooming through her breast. Hope would see her through this, and would see Equestria through this. Celestia needed something to place her faith in, and Hoodwink had proven a valuable vessel.

Celestia thought of Twilight and felt a pang. Twilight believed in ghosts now. She thought of that day, remembering the image of the pony on the wall. Celestia regretted her wish. Twilight was with foal. And not well. The recent events had simply been too much. Twilight had always had a fragile mental state. Twilight’s strength had always came from her friends, and now, some were gone.

The Element of Generosity was gone from them forever.

It was not an easy thing to accept. Death was becoming common now. Equestria had been peaceful for a very long time. The peace had ended. Riots, protests, angry demonstrations, murders, bombs, so much had changed so quickly. The Collective loomed like a shadow over the whole land.

Celestia sighed, blinking back tears. This moment would pass as well, like so many others had. And she would live again in happier times. She had hope of that.

Celestia took comfort in the one thing that had come out of all of this trouble.

Ponies were discovering their strengths and real unity between all of the pony tribes was stronger than it had ever been.

Some other pony…

Luna watched the guard drilling in the yard. Brimstone was among them now. He had earned his helmet. Savage, Nightfisher’s mother, had taken Brimstone one night, secreting him away in a ritual that only lunar pegasi took part in, and had inducted him into the ranks of intelligence. Brimstone was the only non lunar pegasi to officially join the Shadowborne ranks. His creation of the ear language had left a deep impression upon the lunar pegasi, who loved brooding and silence. There was also the fact that Brimstone’s odd stench causing teleportation completely ignored magical defenses and wards. Intelligence was the most difficult field to be selected for. But Brimstone had proven himself. Lunar foals were snatched away early, the moment they showed promise, and inducted into various ranks, nurturing their budding skills.

Luna’s chest burned with fierce pride, knowing that her colt had proven himself. Her colt. Her pride burned as brightly as the stars. It blazed through her body, filling her being, and gave her strength to go on. It gave her courage to continue facing the long night, the darkness, and all of the danger to be found there. Pride and patriotism within the ranks would carry Equestria through these troubles. She was sure of it.

Luna sighed. The magistrates refused to acknowledge Brimstone as her own. But the lunar pegasi recognised him as Luna’s. This was causing a slight rift. It was somewhat worrisome. Luna pushed it from her mind though. It was of no real consequence.

Luna thought of Ivy. Brimstone had to be the bravest colt in the world, becoming infatuated with Ivy. Luna idly wondered if she would be looking after some grandfoals some day, grandfoals with dragon blood. It was too early to tell, but Cadance had seemed so insistent. Luna hoped that Cadance would be proven right with time. Ivy. Brimstone’s inspiration. She had watched Ivy grow. She recalled fond memories of Ivy when Ivy was still very small.

Luna watched the guard below. A long rank of foals were being taught how to march.

A group of students had been taught how to trust in one another as friends. Time marched ever onward, unstoppable. A new generation was coming forward.

The Collective had no chance, Luna reflected.

Some other pony…

Cadance sat in a chair beside Twilight’s bed, having just finished reading Twilight a letter from Ivy. Twilight was starting to doze again, exhausted from just listening to a letter. But Twilight was smiling faintly and that made Cadance happy.

Cadance was grateful that the Crystal Empire seemed mostly untouched by the violence that wracked the rest of Equestria. It was quiet here. Soothing. Ponies were flocking here from all over, seeking the peace and safety that the Crystal Empire offered. Their population had quadrupled. Maybe more. The Crystal Empire would find a way to shelter them and look after their needs. Cadance would see to it. Somehow.

She thought of Minerva, and Minerva’s part in a glorious new language. Cadance felt a blazing love for her student. Minerva had proven herself. She was the fine capable filly that Cadance knew she could be. Cadance drew strength from love. She smiled, knowing that love would see them through these times.

Cadance lifted her head as Twilight stirred, her body writhing under the blankets, murmuring Rarity’s name. She hoped that Twilight’s love would see her through. Darkness loomed ahead, of this, Cadance was certain. Love would light the way.

Love like Ivy’s love, simple and pure, uncluttered, strong. She loved everything around her in an impossible to understand sort of way. And she loved Brimstone most of all. Ivy treasured ponies. Cadance took solace in these thoughts.

Minerva had learned to love herself. She was confident now, assured. She had grown so much. Cadance understood that Minerva would be the steady place that her friends could fall back upon. A rock. Or in this case, the crystal pony that would weather the storm.

And no mistake, a storm was coming.

Sadly, there is no other pony…

Author's Note

Three.

A chapter that was awful to write, because I wanted so badly to give Twilight Sparkle's perspective. But she is gone from this chapter.

As a personal aside, I like how the three alicorns have different feelings they put their faith in.

If you are going to do cheesy, it should be stinky cheese.

Preamble With a Princess

Hoodwink had the jitters. The crowd outside was huge, larger than any other crowd she had seen. The show was popular, more than it had ever been. Hoodwink looked back at her cutie mark. A wooden marionette pony hung from a paddle with strings. It was new. It had appeared a few shows ago.

The filly felt like she was about to have the hiccups. Or that an endless mass of butterflies would escape her from her tummy at any moment, flooding the wagon until she smothered in a writhing mass of fluttering butterflies.

“Hoodwink, are you almost ready?” a voice asked from just outside the door.

Hoodwink did not respond. Something felt off.

“Winkie, Trixie needs you. The ponies came to see a puppet show!”

“Coming mother…” Hoodwink mumbled. The roar of the crowd was deafening. She heard hooves stomping. She took a hesitant step toward the door. The wagon was small and cramped. There were narrow uncomfortable bunk beds for when it rained, otherwise, they slept outside. Cupboards packed every available space. A mirror was hung near the door, but not in a place where the door could strike it. A picture of Princess Twilight Sparkle hung on the wall. In an open drawer, there was an enormous stack of letters, all tied together in a bundle with a blue ribbon.

Hoodwink looked at herself in the mirror. She was her mother’s shade of blue. Her eyes were violet. And she sighed when she saw her mane. It had just been combed not that long ago. Her indigo purple-blue mane was her nemesis. It stood out in all directions, frizzy, poofy, a mass of chaos and tangles.

Her puppets were outside, waiting for her. Along with the crowd. Her mother loved crowds. Loved the attention. The adoration.

Hoodwink loved none of those things, but had very little say in the issue. They needed to eat. She sighed. Life wasn’t fair. Not at all.

Steeling her courage, she forced herself through the door.

Outside, the roar of the crowd was deafening. She mounted the stage, hearing the cheers, wishing that she was someplace else. The square was full of ponies. In the center of the square was a fountain, in the center of the fountain was a giant pony statue, taller than most of the buildings around the square.

The square was packed. There was barely any room left to stand.

She crossed the small stage that folded down from the side of the wagon, entering the small booth for the puppet show. Fireworks exploded overhead and fantastic illusions danced all around. The crowd was hungry for a show.

Inside the booth, the crowd could not see her. The filly shivered. She called up her magic, ready to animate the puppets. Nothing happened. Orange sparks spilled from her horn.

She scrunched up her muzzle and concentrated. This happened sometimes. She was nervous. She didn’t like crowds. She tried to imagine that she was all alone. She focused her will, taking deep breaths, and tried to let the magic flow.

Nothing happened. She felt the first sting of tears. Ponies wanted a puppet show. If she failed to deliverer, the crowd could get ugly. Trixie could tell a lot of stories about crowds turning ugly. Her eyes began to flood.

Trixie was becoming impatient. Hoodwink was in her booth, but nothing was happening. The puppets were not dancing. She felt a brief twinge of fear. She could hear the calls of the crowd. They wanted the whole show, not just fireworks and illusions. Word about Hoodwink’s talent with puppets had spread quickly since she acquired her cutie mark. It was her special talent, and she could put on quite a show, making them move with a beauty and grace that Trixie could not.

It was the perfect talent for a future showmare. Hoodwink was a little reluctant about being a showmare, but Trixie was certain that her filly would adjust. It was, after all, her filly. And Trixie was a great showmare. These things ran in the family. Right?

In her booth, Hoodwink strained to call forth her magic. Something was wrong. She could feel it now. Strong. Burning. But having trouble. Her brain felt like it was buzzing and vibrating, her skull full of bees. Her horn ached slightly and she felt feverish.

Trixie poked her head into the booth to check on Hoodwink. Something was wrong. Something felt very wrong. Trixie began to back away. The air crackled and was full of ozone.

The booth around Hoodwink exploded. It simply ceased to be. It was cheap and flimsy, covered in gaudy fake velveteen, nothing more than an easy to make stage prop. Hoodwink rose into the air, her eyes gone, turned white. Her body was limp as it dangled in the air. Orange bolts of energy crackled up and down her horn. Her mane, already frizzy, was now standing on end in all directions.

“Winkie?!” Trixie asked in alarm.

There was a flash of bright orange light followed by a thundercrack. Trixie cried out. The crowd began to scream. Fear and panic filled the square. Trixie heard a strange sound, a grinding sound. The sound of stone grating and grinding together. She turned her head slowly toward the sound, her bowels turning to water. A puddle appeared between her hindhooves.

The giant pony statue was moving.

Trixie’s screams joined the crowd. She looked at her filly, but dare not approach. She was surrounded by a fierce nimbus of bright orange magic. Heat radiated off of her in waves.

The giant stone pony was on its hooves now. It stomped. The ground shook, and several windows shattered in the buildings around the square. Ponies were trying to run away. There was a stampede.

Trixie decided then and there, she wasn’t leaving her filly. She stood on the stage and readied her magic.

The gargantuan stone pony stomped through the square, moving slowly. The fountain was crushed, with water flooding everywhere.

Pegasi began to circle overhead. Trixie heard a massive thud from up above in the sky.

A fireball descended from the heavens, falling toward an empty space in the square, soaring down with an alarming rumble and crackle.

The pegasi were armored. Trixie could see it glinting in the sun.

Celestia slammed into the cobblestones, her hooves causing them to crack and crumble. Long cracks spidered away from her. The sound of her impact was deafening. Her wings were flared, still extended.

She looked regal. Majestic. She stood there calmly, assessing the situation, taking it all in.

“Captain Sunflower, Cyclone!” She said with a noble shout, her voice easily rising over the anarchy in the square. “Get these ponies to safety. I cannot defeat this foe if I can’t use my magic at full force. Doing so would cost the lives of many innocent bystanders.”

Above her, two pegasi banked, barking orders.

The stone pony shook its head. It was big. Indescribably big. Several stories tall. It was difficult to believe that it was moving.

Trixie took all of this in. She watched Celestia on the other side of the square. She heard a thump behind her. She turned.

Hoodwink had fallen to the stage, the magic gone. She wasn’t moving. Trixie turned back toward Celestia, and looked up at the pegasi.

She swallowed. She was probably going to lose her wagon again. She lifted Hoodwink and ran away while the getting was good.

The square was clearing. Pegasi darted in and out in front of the stone pony, distracting it. Each of the giant stone pony’s steps crushed and crackled cobblestones. It flailed its head at the passing pegasi.

Celestia unloaded a test blast. Nothing major, just a bit of a test fire to see what the stone pony could take.

Her blast did nothing.

Celestia felt a twinge of panic. Something like this could destroy Canterlot. She quickly cast a spell which created a letter that was sent to Spike.

There was another sonic boom overhead. Luna was dropping in.

Luna did not land. She hovered near her sister, her jaw hanging open.

“Unholy horse apples!” Luna swore.

Luna took a test fire with her horn. She was rewarded with a shower of gravel from the stone pony.

“HUZZAH!” She shouted, slipping into her Royal Canterlot Voice. Several more windows shattered in the distance, the tinkling of glass heard only by alicorn ears over the pandemonium all around.

“How’d you do that?” Celestia asked.

“Disruption spell!” Luna shouted. Luna zoomed off to form an attack wing with a group of guards.

Celestia let fly another blast, this time she too was rewarded with a shower of gravel.

Wonderful. Both alicorns had managed to scratch the titanic stone pony. This was going to be a long day.

Celestia took to the air. Her horn flared. The square was almost empty, and the surrounding buildings were being emptied. Almost time for no more nice princess, she thought to herself.

The stony pony had given up on trying to headbutt passing pegasi and was now lumbering off toward the buildings at the edge of the square.

There was a sonic boom over head, quickly followed by another. The second one exploded into a massive rainbow coloured nova that could be seen all over Canterlot.

Twilight Sparkle swooped down, her horn glowing with lavender fire.

“You called?” She asked, getting a look at the stone pony.

“Twilight, what in the name of Pinkie Pie is that?!” Rainbow Dash shouted.

“Twilight, disruption spells damage it. I’m hoping that you can find another solution. We don’t need to damage it, we need it stopped. Right now. Before somepony gets killed or Canterlot is destroyed.” Celestia said in a stern voice.

Twilight’s horn flared.

Massive stone chunks exploded from the stone pony. Pony sized chunks of stone fell to the cobblestones.

“Show off,” Luna said, swooping past, “nice work.”

Rainbow Dash zoomed off, leaving behind her signature rainbow contrail. She flew toward the retreating herd.

Twilight and Luna worked together, aiming for the legs. They rolled through the air, coming as close as they dared, their magic much stronger close up.

Celestia was working on another plan. She had flown off, leaving Twilight and her sister to battle the monster. She flew over the town, her eyes sweeping back and forth, looking for something. Her sharp eyes found what she needed in an alley. She touched it with her magic, testing its weight. It was full. Perfect.

She lifted the grease dumpster with her telekinetic magic and headed back toward the square.

It wasn’t everyday you saw an alicorn flying overhead with a large green dumpster in tow.

Twilight and Luna had almost worn through a leg when Celestia returned. Celestia lifted the dumpster over the stone pony and turned it over, the grease spilling out and flooding the square beneath the stone pony’s legs.

It began to slip and slide, stone hooves scrambling for purchase, the greasy cobblestones offering no grip. It teetered, it tottered, and finally, it fell over with a deafening crash. It struggled to regain its legs.

Twilight and Luna doubled their efforts, with Celestia joining in.

It took a while to wear the stony giant down.

All that was left were chunks strewn over the square. Everything was a mess. Grease was everywhere. Part of the square was flooding, the fountain still trying to pump water. Buildings were badly damaged.

The three alicorns landed, surveying their work.

A job well done, all things considered. The city still stood.

“Please help Trixie, Trixie’s filly won't wake up.” Said a small voice.

Celestia turned and saw one of her former students. “Trixie Lulamoon,” she greeted, “What is wrong with your filly?”

“Her magic went wild. She caused this.” Trixie replied, her voice low, her eyes downcast.

“What?!” Celestia said in disbelief.

The three alicorns looked at the filly suspended in the air with magic.

“Winkie was just going to do a puppet show and then this happened.” Trixie said, now beginning to shake.

“Is Hoodwink OK?” Twilight asked, her voice wavering with concern.

“Trixie does not know!” Trixie replied, beginning to panic.

Celestia took the foal into her own magic, holding her close. Her eyes closed, she stood quietly, her horn glowing with golden light.

“She is going to be fine. Magical exhaustion. She’s channeled far too much energy and burned herself out.” Celestia smiled gently.

Trixie looked hopeful. “Trixie is sorry for all of the damage, honestly. Trixie no longer has a desire to cause trouble. Twilight has been a good friend and has helped Trixie find herself. Trixie is sorry that this happened. Please, don’t punish Hoodwink. Trixie doesn’t think she can pay for the damages. Trixie is nearly broke.” Trixie kneeled, her face pressed against the cobblestones.

“Hoodwink is all Trixie has and all that Trixie cares for. Trixie understands that somepony has to pay for this mess. Trixie asks for the blame to be placed on her, and not Hoodwink.”

“Get up.” Celestia said in a gentle soothing tone.

Trixie rose, her knees knocking and trembling.

“I’ll make you a deal Trixie. Allow Hoodwink to become my student. She has a great gift. All of this is forgiven, even if you say no. But I am asking you to consider this carefully. Hoodwink has an exceptional talent and it needs to be nurtured.”

“Hoodwink will become your student?”

“Yes, “ said Celestia, “my personal student. My protege. She has amazing potential, and I want to make sure it blossoms into something worthwhile.”

Trixie considered Celestia’s words. “Trixie can visit?”

“Of course.”

“Hoodwink can have a comfortable bed?”

“You did, when you attended the school.”

“Good food?”

“Probably the best school cafeteria in Canterlot.”

“Hoodwink will learn control, so this doesn’t happen again?”

“Definately.”

Trixie’s eyes darted back and forth. She finally looked up at Celestia.

“Will Hoodwink have friends?”

“I hope so.”

Trixie nodded her head in agreement. “Trixie will leave Hoodwink in your care.”

Celestia smiled down at her new student held in the grasp of her magic.

Social Contagion

Celestia banked over Ponyville, her guards in tow. Sunflower and Cyclone flew at her wingtips. It felt good to be out of the silly chariot. A decision had been made, a stronger Equestria was needed. This meant seeing the Princesses on display, out and about, flying, not being coddled along in a chariot. Too many whispers of the Princesses growing weak.

Celestia rolled, reveling in flight, finally able to do something she loved to do but had not been allowed to do for the longest time. For too long, the public wanted a pampered Princess, and the empire had suffered. The invasion of Canterlot had happened.

Equestria was militarising once again. The doves had been silenced after the invasion.

She rolled again, this time as she flipped around in a loop, her guard keeping up with her.

“A bit out of practice, that last maneuver.” Cyclone said over the roar of the wind. “I find it helps to kick your hind legs out when you pull up for a loop.” He advised.

“Thank you Cyclone.” Celestia said.

Cyclone nodded.

Sunflower looked below. Ponies were looking up.

“We have admirers.” He announced casually.

Cyclone grunted in reply.

“And, my dear friend Cyclone, you have an admirer,” Sunflower shouted in teasing tones, “she’ll be there today when we arrive. I bet the sight of you in armor makes her go crazy.”

Sunflower reconsidered his words.

“Or crazier.” He chuckled.

Cyclone turned his head and shot his best friend a scowl. “Nightfisher dunked you in the lake recently? Wouldn’t want you stinking up this momentous event.”

“Ouch!” Sunflower replied.

“When you two finally settle down, I’m buying you a stool. I don’t think you could reach otherwise.” Cyclone went as low as he dared.

“A stool?” Celestia asked, puzzled, suddenly becoming involved in the personal lives of her guards.

“He’s too short to mount her otherwise. Or even to kiss her if she decides that lowering her head isn’t worth it.” Cyclone said, grinning.

Celestia broke into laughter, chuckling at the witty repartee.

“You don’t fight fair Cyclone.” Sunflower protested.

“I know.” Cyclone responded. “Your Majesty, why was I specifically chosen to be your guard and companion?” Cyclone asked, already knowing the answer.

“Because you fight dirty.” Celestia responded. “Both of you rely more on guile and treachery than brute strength. Fighting fair has badly damaged the empire.”

Both stallions beamed from the praise.

Celestia began to circle and drop, seeing her destination below. Ahead of her, the Everfree loomed, and from up here, she could see the large crater that pockmarked the thick forest. She shuddered. That had been a black day, she reflected. The Everfree was worse than ever now. But that was a good thing, Celestia thought to herself. It gave Luna’s lunar pegasi a place to hunt and perfect their talents. Struggle brings strength.

The ground loomed below them, and Celestia could see a large group of ponies running about, in a large field at the edge of a copse of trees. She scanned the trees, looking for a glint of mirrored blue scales, and saw nothing. She scanned the grass. Still nothing.

She landed gracefully, with her guards landing a moment later. She shook her wings and folded them.

She suffered a peculiar moment as nopony came running up to greet her. She could see faces peering at her, mostly from the trees, some from bushes.

Somepony was coming up to greet her she noticed. Well, not a pony. Not entirely.

Discord slithered through the tall grass, his mismatched legs causing him to wobble forward as his sinuous body flailed about.

He approached her shyly, head low, slinking forward on all fours.

“Hi there Celestia…” he said in a mischievous voice that dripped with troublesome intent. His mismatched wings fluttered.

“Hello Discord. How are you this day?” Celestia said formally. This was supposed to be a formal occasion. Where was Twilight? Something felt off.

“Oh, I am about to have a dream come true.” Discord said with a maniacal cackle.

Celestia chuckled. Discord apparently knew why she was here and what was planned for Ivy. Celestia felt joy in her heart.

He slithered forward even more, and then raised himself up on his hind legs, balancing on his haunches.

Celestia’s guard eyeballed him. Discord was harmless now, completely non magical, but occasionally annoying.

Discord reached out his griffon claw, his eyes narrowing, his face seizing with glee, a chuckle escaping his lips.

Celestia furrowed her brow. What was Discord up to?

Discord booped her gently upon the nose.

Celestia let out a faint squeak of surprise.

“Tag! You’re it!” Discord shouted. “No tag backs!” The draconequus took the stunned moment of surprise to make a hasty escape, slither-slinking through the grass, hurrying off to the bushes.

Celestia heard giggles in the distance.

She turned to look at Sunflower, who was backing away from her.

“Sunflower, what are you doing? You are not dismissed.” She said flatly.

“I apologise your Majesty,” replied Sunflower in humble tones, “But you seem to be infected with a terrible social contagion. While I would die to defend you, I am not a willing receiver of your affliction!” Sunflower turned tail and ran.

Celestia whirled on Cyclone, but he was gone. Just gone.

She stood there alone, in confusion, feeling a faint tinge of frustration rising.

This was not going as planned.

She heard the giggles of Twilight Sparkle. She swung her head around, looking for her. She didn’t see her, but heard her in the bushes. She heard lots of other giggles in the bushes. No, she thought, this wasn’t going as planned.

“Huzzah!” said a voice. “My sister has the plague!”

Luna! Celestia scowled.

“There are rules sister!” Luna shouted. “In this marvelous game, we are all earth ponies. No magic, no wings. You must tag somepony!”

Celestia saw something small and orange in the grass. Finally, a way to end this, she thought to herself.

The small orange pony was running from one clump of bushes to another. He saw her and cried out in alarm.

“Shame on you!” Cried a voice. A blue grey pony stuck her head out of the bushes.

“Look at you, as big as you are, runnin’ down the runt, for shame!” Cried another voice. A red muzzle poked out of the bushes.

“Ooh, Gala, Honeycrisp, you shouldn’t talk to the Princess like that…”

Celestia heard Fluttershy’s voice, but didn’t see her. She stood there, frozen. Unsure of what to do next.

A bright blue blur shot past her, wiggle-slithering through the grass.

Ivy moved with serpentine speed toward the small orange foal. She didn’t slow upon approach. As she started to run past him, her tail whipped out, gently coiled around the orange foal, and lifted him into the air above Ivy’s back. “Appleseed!” Ivy cried.

Ivy disappeared into the tree line, the orange foal lowered from view.

Celestia stood there, looking around, unsure of what to do next.

In the distance, she saw Rarity and Applejack reclining on a blanket.

She trotted toward the blanket.

Rarity raised her head at Celestia’s approach.

“Oh, hello Celestia!” She said in her best cultured voice. “We’re not playing. We’re sitting this one out. We hope you don’t mind.”

Celestia continued forward.

Rarity began to look alarmed.

“We’re not playing,” she protested. “I’m just here to keep Applejack and Maplejack company.”

Celestia did not slow.

Rarity quickly rolled to her hooves and stood up.

“Celestia dear…” she started.

“If you are not playing, then why are you ready to run?” Celestia asked.

Rarity’s reply was to turn tail and take off.

Celestia stood over Applejack, who had her hat over her face.

“Don’t even think about it.” Applejack warned. “I ain’t in no mood. I’m pregnant. Again. My back hurts. My hips hurt. I’m horny as all get out and my teats are sore. My plothole is sore and puckered from all this goldurn fartin’.”

Applejack snorted.

“And don’t you go taggin’ Maplejack. He’s too little to know what’s goin’ on. You go on now, git!”

No, this day wasn’t turning out as planned.

A little too much honesty from the Element of Honesty, Celestia reflected.

Celestia looked down at Maplejack. “Hello there.” She said gently.

“Hi…” he drawled, burying his face into his mother’s side and hiding.

Celestia turned. She heard snickers and laughter coming from everywhere.

Applejack farted loudly. Her tail swished. “Nuts and gum…” she drawled. “I’m gonna kill Stumpy next time he gives me that look.”

Celestia moved away quickly, her nose crinkling.

“Oh pony farts,” swore Applejack, “I have stank like a polecat. I ain’t sorry!”

Celestia picked up her pace, her nostrils suddenly burning. It was like walking into the guard barracks on Appleloosa chili night, she reflected.

She saw a flash of lavender.

It was time to end this. The only way to end this. This game of tag had become a bit too political. Foals were clearly off limits. If she ran down any other pony, she’d be an alicorn running down a defenseless soul that would never have a chance. And she would never hear the end of it.

She bolted for Twilight Sparkle.

Twilight responded the only way she knew how. By panicking. Her former teacher was hot on her hooves.

“Twilight Sparkle, hold still and take what is coming to you! I know you had a hoof in this!” Celestia barked.

Twilight ran faster. She had too. Celestia had longer legs.

“I had nothing to do with this!” Twilight protested. “This is all Luna’s fault!”

“‘Tis a lie!” Luna shouted in reply, poking her head out from the bushes. “Discord and I planned this! Some of the blame rests upon him! ‘Tis not all my fault!”

“Yer a rotten pony!” Gala said, still sore about Celestia even thinking about chasing her brother. Her blue grey muzzle emerged from the tall grass near the trees.

“Yeah! And then you thought about taggin’ mama!” Honeycrisp chided, emerging next to her sister.

“No I didn’t!” Celestia said breathlessly. “I just wanted to say hello.”

Twilight was a much faster runner than Celestia had counted on. She ran in wide circles, bobbing and weaving.

Celestia’s hooves struck a rhythm upon the earth as she ran. She was picking up speed now. Twilight was out in the open.

Celestia was gaining.

Celestia took a swipe at Twilight’s cutie mark, her hoof missing by bare inches. Twilight surged forward in panic.

The swipe was costly. Celestia had lost speed. She redoubled her efforts.

“Too much cake Twilight?” Celestia said with an aggressive tone.

“OH!” Twilight panted. “You’re one to talk!”

Celestia lunged forward, her hooves leaving the ground as she lept, her hoof extended.

Twilight felt a glancing blow just above her cutie mark. She stumbled.

Celestia collided with Twilight, tackling her. The two ponies slid into the earth, ripping up the grass and turf, rolling together in a heap.

Celestia was guffawing.

It was a sound that Luna hadn’t heard in a long time. It made her heart ache briefly, as she reflected upon the burdens her sister carried. But then she felt joy. She felt something brush up against her side. She turned and looked at Discord. The exchanged a glance briefly.

Celestia howled with laughter, covered in dirt and her white coat covered in grass stains. Twilight Sparkle lay in underneath her former mentor, feeling somewhat crushed by the much larger pony. She struggled and squirmed to get free.

Celestia rolled away from her former student and collapsed on her back. She kicked up her legs and snorted, reveling in her roll in the grass. It felt good to be a pony again, to be doing pony things. Like rolling in the cool grass. She wriggled and writhed upon the earth, scratching her back. Her wings extended.

Another pony began to laugh. Twilight struggled to her hooves and saw Rainbow Dash looking at her and chuckling.

“I guess I missed something,” Rainbow confessed, “but I was back in the woods watching Pinkie Pie making out with Cyclone!”

“Pervert.” Twilight muttered at her friend.

“Sticks and stones may break my bones,” Rainbow Dash said in a singsong voice, “but whips and chains excite me.”

Celestia was still laughing. Luna stood near, smiling and laughing with her sister.

“That doesn’t seem ladylike…” Rarity announced, looking at Celestia with a certain disapproval.

Celestia was covered in grass stains. Blades of grass were lodged in her feathers.

The large mare finally began to compose herself, remembering what it was that she had come here to do.

Author's Note

This one was a lot of fun to write. I hope you enjoy it. If you did, please, leave a comment. It'd mean the world to me to know I made somepony happy.

Unicorn Unity!

Unicorn unity!

Do manipulative and mouthy mud ponies cause you melancholy?

Do political preachy Princesses purloin your right to rule?

Pegasi platoons practically plugging your pronouncements?

Place these ponies in their place!

Become one with the Collective. One horn, one rule!

Return to power.

Restore the balance.

Take a stand for harmony today!

Return to the rightful order and restore our position in society.

Return rule to those who created democracy!

The Collective needs YOU!

If you would like to restore sanity in the world, don’t contact us, we will contact you!

Gather in numbers, demand your rights, put the others in their place, and if we see you are worthy, you will be chosen!

We are all knowing! All seeing! And all powerful. But only if we join together!

Join today to end Equestria and restore rightful Unicornia!

They cannot hold us back forever!

Become ONE with the COLLECTIVE!

Under Seige

Luna prowled the dark depths under Canterlot, moving briskly. Her lunar guard easily matching her pace. She was scowling. She had been summoned to the hospital wing. A guard had returned home, badly injured, with news that he refused to give anypony but her.

This was worrisome.

Luna and her retinue trotted down the hall, their hooves making a staccato rhythm that echoed through the long hallway.

She finally came to a door and entered. She pushed her way into the room, pushing her way through doctors and nurses and other soldiers. The room was crowded. Finally, she stood beside the bed of a young lunar guard who had been stationed in the Crystal Empire. She wanted to know why he was here, far away from his post.

As she stood by his bed, he weakly shoved his nose into her chest, sniffing deeply. She indulged him. He was a bloody mess. He didn’t look well at all. Death was certainly a possibility, but the lunar pegasi should never be so readily dismissed.

“Mistress.” He said weakly, looking up at her with one eye, the other a gaping bloody socket. One ear was gone. Half of his face had been burned away. Teeth were visible were his cheek used to be.

“Mistress, the Crystal Empire has fallen.” He croaked. “Thousands and thousands and thousands of unicorns invaded the city, seemingly from nowhere.” As he spoke, blood flew from the remains of his face. “They just appeared. It was over quickly. Shining Armor cast a spell, trying to shield the city, trying to protect his ponies.”

The lunar pegasus gasped and began to cough.

“The Collective…” he rasped, “Not unicorns at all. Changelings. All of them changelings. I saw it after Shining’s spell. I fear they are there to feed upon the Crystal Heart.”

The room fell completely silent, the only sounds were the laboured breathing of the injured stallion, and it was faint.

“I came home to warn you Mistress!” The lunar pegasus said in a strangled whisper. “Forgive me for abandoning my post.”

Luna felt her blood go as cold as the vacuum of space.

Suddenly, a lot of things made sense.

Luna vanished, off to warn her sister.

Author's Note

That's it folks. It's over. At least, this story is.

I really hope that folk'll talk about this story as a whole. A bit of feedback would be nice. Some thoughts, some feelings, an opinion.

The third part will come along shortly. Not sure how soon. The first few chapters are already mostly done, but need some finishing.

Title is still unknown at this point.

Please keep the comment section spoiler free about the big reveal. Thanks!