Sideboard of Harmony

Chapters

How Pinkie Got Her Cutie Mark
No Such Pony, No Such Zone
Fiat Harmonia
String Theory
Luna, See?
Spectrometer of Worlds
Magical Lyrical Nougat Time
Quod Cucurbita
Haec Stupri Cucurbita
The ETSAB and You
Dink of Disaster
Morbid Flashback
Markov Distinction
Forced Tuition
A Sly Toll Tot
Fast, Fine, Fierce
Sweetie's Bizarre Adventure
Ascendant Friendship
Draining Whelp
Is Ditz Your Card?
Ave Discordia
Wedding Bells of Velis Vel
Keep Your Friends Close, They're What Drive You

How Pinkie Got Her Cutie Mark

Pinkie hummed to herself as she approached the Books and Branches Library. After dealing with Discord, Twilight had insisted that they talk as soon as they could to answer the unicorn's pressing questions. Once they were finished with the pomp and ceremony that defeating the ancient foe of sanity itself entailed, a date and time had been set, and had now come. With her typical smile, Pinkie opened the library door. "Morning, Twilight!" She noted another pony. "Oh! Good morning, Ditzy. What brings you here?"

"I asked her to come," answered Twilight. "I thought she could provide some context should our discussion cross into your shared... well, weirdness, for lack of a better term. No offense."

"None taken!" gushed the baker. "I'm as weird as the beard of the feared King Leared and proud of it!"

Ditzy chuckled. "I don't know if I'm quite that odd, but I know you didn't mean anything nasty." She frowned. "Still, you never really told me what you were going to ask Pinkie."

"I can hardly believe I'm asking it," confessed the unicorn. "Telling somepony else before the mare of the hour arrived felt, well, ridiculous."

Pinkie dismissed this with the wave of a forehoof. "There's nothing ridiculous about it! It's all perfectly logical."

The other mares fixed surprisingly similar flat looks on her. "Everypony logic or Pinkie Logic?" asked Twilight.

The party pony's grin only widened. "A little from Column A, and a little from Column B."

The student sighed. "I really hope I come out of this with my sanity intact."

Ditzy offered her a wry grin. "Well, as long as one of us does, she can reassemble the other's. Deal?"

"Deal." Twilight refocused on her oh-so-unpredictable friend and sighed. "Might as well bite the bullet."

"We have bullets? Oh right, Dashie mentions them during the song in 'May The Best Pet Win'."

The unicorn took a deep steadying breath, bearing in mind that this was likely but the tiniest sample of the insanity that would soon ensue. "Okay, Pinkie. Enough beating around the bush. What did you mean when you called Discord your son?"

"Her what now!?" The revelation was apparently news to Ditzy.

The pink pony looked from one friend to the other incredulously. Finally, she began, "Well, when a mare and a stallion love each other very, very much—"

The pegasus interrupted her. "We aren't asking you to explain the concept of progeny."

Pinkie pondered how else to interpret that question. "Ohhh. Then you want to know how I can claim motherhood of an immortal embodiment of chaos."

The mailmare registered Twilight's grateful look. "I can kind of understand where her mind goes now and again." She stifled a laugh as she saw the unicorn's expression shift, the other mare unsure whether she envied or pitied the pegasus. "It isn't that bad."

"Worse?"

"...We're getting off topic. Pinkie?"

The party pony nodded. "Right. Ditzy, you've heard of Urza, right?"

The other planeswalker nodded. To Twilight she explained, "Imagine if Star Swirl the Bearded was an alicorn with no sense of restraint and the unshakable conviction that he could invent his way out of any problem."

"And if he couldn't enjoy a party if his life depended on it," added Pinkie. "But this story doesn't involve him. It involves one of his students, a much hoopier frood named Teferi."

Outside of time and space, beyond the Blind Eternities, there lived a woman and, for lack of a better term, a man. Out of phase with the rest of existence, they were killing a few centuries as they waited for the aftermath of an interplanar invasion to blow over, at which point both they and their homelands could safely reenter the timestream. They wiled away the years with the easy patience of the nigh-immortal and endured one another with the affectionate hostility of an old married couple. The decades blended into one another, exactly as they had planned.

Then one day, a pink pony stuck her head through a wormhole. "Hiiii, Teffy!"

Teffy, or more formally, Teferi Planeswalker, blinked in disbelief. "Pinkie Pie?"

The woman bolted into action, standing and entering a combat stance in less than a second. "Who is that and how did it get here?"

"Who? A friend. How?" The bald 'walker smiled. "One does not ask such things about Pinkie Pie." This didn't seem to assuage his companion's concerns. With a sigh and an exaggerated stretch, Teferi insisted, "Relax, Jhoira. She comes in peace."

"Sure do!" confirmed the pony, wriggling out of the breach in reality. "It's just like that funny rhyme you made up about me."

"Ah yes," recalled the other planeswalker. "Frizzy hair, not a care. Straightened mane, bringing pain. And you seem to be particularly poofy, Pinkamena. What brings you to our humble pocket plane?

"I may ned an itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny, lickety-splickety little favor." She grinned. "It'll be fuuuun!"

Teferi matched her smile for smile. Oh, Jhoira was always an entertaining straight man, but there was nothing quite like riffing off of another jokester. "And why me?"

"Well, one, you're funny."

This prompted a leer at the Ghitu woman, who rolled her eyes. "Yes, I heard her."

Pinkie continued. "Two, you're not dead."

Teferi nodded. "Certainly a point in my favor."

"And three, I need someone who's good at timey-wimey magic, and you're the best time guy I know."

The dark-skinned 'walker's smile grew rather wooden. "You haven't been doing anything with time yourself, have you?" Pinkie Pie the chronomancer... Ugh, it sent chills down his spine.

"Pfft. Heck no. I never work with blue magic if I can help it. It turns me into a big ol' boring thinky-Pinkie. But you can cast blue and still be fun, so you're perfect!"

Teferi preened a bit. "Well, I think we all knew that."

Jhoira was less amused. "What if we have to phase back into Dominaria and you're still playing with your horse?"

"Firstly, she is a pony, not a horse. Important distinction. Secondly..." The Zhalfiran paused for a moment to assess the currents of time. "Yes, the conjunction won't be for at least another century. If I'm gone that long, then we'll have bigger problems."

He held a hand out to Pinkie. "Lead on, my friend."

She placed a hoof in the offered appendage and the two vanished, leaving an artificer bitterly muttering about the unreliability of planeswalkers, horses, and men alike.

"Here we are!"

Teferi took in the view. At least, he tried to. There simply wasn't anything to see. There was only a hollow bubble of stability floating in the Bastard Plane, a wholly empty universe. "It's... very austere."

"Oh, it's not done yet, silly," tittered Pinkie. "That's why I brought you here!"

"Oh?"

"Yup. See, I had an idea. You know how any plane made by a planeswalker eventually collapses?"

The man nodded. "Of course. Eventually, mana imbalance destabilizes it and the Blind Eternities consume it."

"Right! Entropy in action. Well, what if I could make entropy want to keep the plane intact?"

Teferi considered this, beginning several objections before abandoning them midsentence. Finally, he settled on, "How?"

Pinkie beamed with pride. "Give it a personality! Make it more interested in having fun than breaking everything down!"

The humanoid planeswalker digested the proposal for some time. Finally, he declared, "Pinkie Pie, I have been called mad. I have seen madness both quiet and loud. But you? You seem to have transcended madness and achieved an enlightenment the likes of which the allegedly sane dare not even conceive."

She grinned even more widely. "I'll take that as a compliment!"

"It was meant as one." Teferi frowned as a new question occured to him. "But where do I enter into this audacious project of yours?"

"Well, for the plan to work, I'll need entropy to have an ego from the very first moment."

"Seems a bit late for that."

The pony shook her head, still smiling. "Can't you tell? I haven't started time yet."

With a start, Teferi realized that she was right. With his dramatically heightened chronomantic sensitivity, the inexorable motion of time felt like a constant gentle wind at his back. Here, there was no such feeling. It certainly explained why the plane was so barren, and why so barren a plane hadn't already collapsed. There was simply not yet any time for anything to happen.

Pinkie continued, "I'm going to need my full attention to incarnate entropy, so I needed someone else to start the clock. Who better than you?"

"Who Indeed?" The man sighed and shook his head. "I wish Urza had been more like you."

She looked away. "They messed with his family. They got what they deserved." The moment passed and she turned back, beaming as though it hadn't happened. "Ready?"

Teferi cracked his knuckles. "Whenever you are."

"On my signal, then."

Pinkie closed her eyes and brought her forelegs forward. Her body, only a projection of her mind, grew more simplistic and abstract as her focus moved from self-definition to the task at hoof. Gloomy russet energy formed before her, kept spherical only by having no time in which it could become more irregular. The visible edges of the plane seemed to glow light green, though the human couldn't tell if that light was actually there or merely an illusion of contrast. Finally, when the ball of thermodynamic inevitability was half again as tall as she was, the mare cried, "Now!"

Teferi snapped his fingers. He felt a mental lurch as time began to flow in the tiny cosmos, then watched the aggregated entropy collapse on itself. "Now what?"

"Wait for it..."

Something nagged at the Zhalfiran's mind. After a moment, he realized that the lighting had changed. He needed no more light to see than he did air to breathe, but he could still notice the shift. "Pinkie—"

"Wait for it..." The pony's attention was locked onto her creation, now a writhing tendril on which colors swam as on an oil slick.

Teferi looked up. The spring hue he'd thought he'd seen was very definitely there and very definitely coming together on its own above them. "Pinkie!" he called more insistently.

"Almost..." She was too rapt in the development of the clump of chaos to pay him any mind.

The man sighed and floated closer to the verdant energy. It too seemed to be shaping itself, features indistinct but position clearly fetal.

With a sound best transliterated as "squee," the first children of the new plane were born.

Pinkie cradled the chimera she'd created with maternal fondness. "It worked," she whispered, exuberance tempered by awe.

"Even better than you expected." She turned to see Teferi carrying another young soul, this one clearly equine in form. White coat, red mane, the cutest little horn... and wings?

The mare's jaw dropped. "Buh... guh... zuh... I... pwah?"

"I have a theory." The other planeswalker nodded towards the patchwork creature. "This plane seems to expect a balance. Creation for destruction. Order for chaos. Harmony for discord."

Pinkie's smile threatened to split her face in two. "I got it on the first try!"

"Excuse me?"

"I was hoping this would happen, but—" She noticed his lost expression. "Okay, you know how I was flung so far back in time that when I came out in Guff's library, my home plane hadn't even come into existence yet?"

Teferi gave a wry smirk. "Well, I do now."

"Right. So, according to all the stuff I read, it was supposed to form around now, but this is the sort of thing you can see coming from a mile away if you know how to look, which I do, but I couldn't find it anywhere, so I thought to myself, 'Well, what if it was a synthetic plane?' But that didn't make sense, 'cause it seemed stable, but then I was just a little filly at the time, and then something told me that I was one hundred percent correctamundo. So, here we are!"

Once again, the bald walker had to digest this for a moment. "You've created your own birth plane."

"We both did! We're parents!"

Teferi's mouth worked silently for a few seconds. "I... I suppose we are." He brought up a poker face honed to perfection by long-ago years as a court mage. "I never really planned on having a family. Certainly not like this." His emotions sorted themselves out a bit and he found himself smiling. "And yet I cannot say I regret it. So, did you have some names in mind for these little bundles of predestination?"

Pinkie gave the infant incarnation in her hooves a loving nuzzle. "I was going to name this little guy Malpercio, but I don't think anyone will get the reference. Furthermore, after that thing you said about balance, 'Discord' seems... right."

The man looked fondly at the foal he carried. "I suppose that would make this one Harmony?"

The mare shook her head. "No, that little cutie is Lauren."

"Lauren?" The Zhalfiran smirked. "Seems rather mundane for the antithesis of entropy."

"It's her true name," Pinkie explained with uncharacteristic solemnity. "One that will carry great power, that will be known only to a precious, privileged few. Most will not know of her at all. Nearly all of those who will shall know her as Faust."

"Faust." Teferi nodded. "I like it. Succinct. Punchy. Perfect for swearing." Lauren wriggled a bit in his arms. "So, what now?"

"They'll be waking up soon. I was going to do more, but..."

"But?" prompted the other 'walker.

"I'm not getting a twitch, but I've still got a feeling." Pinkie looked affectionately at the bundle of chaos she held. "They were made to make. We should leave them to it."

Teferi gasped in mock horror. "What, and never let them know their parents?"

Pinkie winced. Despite her friend's joking tone, he still struck a nerve. "Well, I guess a little quality family time couldn't hurt..."

The man gave a peal of warm laughter. "I have missed you, my friend."

The child-forces were a delightful novelty for Teferi. Lauren, upon awakening and leaving his arms, had panicked for a moment, hooves flailing for purchase on nonexistent ground, wings beating against absent air. It took the burbling giggles of her brother, who was already flitting about through willpower alone, to calm her down. From there, the pair played with an ever-shifting blend of affection and enmity. According to Pinkie, this was normal sibling behavior.

The two grew at a rapid clip, their forms shaped not by biology but mentality. Less than an hour after time began, they had achieved one of the greatest accomplishments of sapient life throughout the Multiverse.

"We're bored."

To this, both parents gave the same answer: "Then make things more interesting."

Both incarnations considered this. Discord tried first, managing a rather impressive explosion. This prompted some laughter, but not much long-term entertainment. "Aww... Well, your turn."

"Um, um..." Lauren deliberated for some time, dismissing several ideas before happening upon something intriguing. "Ooh!" She screwed up her face in concentration and a ball popped into existence. "Catch!" called the young alicorn, kicking the toy towards her brother.

After several tosses, Teferi intercepted the plaything. "Kids," Pinkie announced, "your dad and I are going away for a while."

"What?"
"Why?"
"Where?"
"How long?"

The pony planeswalker's guilt was like a lead weight in her chest. How could she tell them that some inexplicable sixth sense was telling her to leave, lest she negate her own existence? "Don't worry. You've got each other and you've got a wide, wonderful universe to shape and play in."

Lauren deployed weapons-grade puppy dog eyes shimmering with sorrow. "Will you ever come back?"

The older mare nodded emphatically, holding back tears of her own. "You can count on it."

The filly turned to Teferi. "Daddy?"

"Well, I certainly have an empty schedule for the near future. I may even introduce you to... I suppose you could call her Aunt Jhoira. I can only imagine the look on her face when I tell her that I'm a father."

"Be good to each other." Pinkie dabbed at her eyes with a hoofkerchief. "You're family. Family's important." With that, she transmuted the cloth into a pair of heart-shaped lockets, each containing a photo of the strange family. No one had any taken any pictures, but that didn't matter. She put a necklace on each young neck and a planted a kiss on each young forehead. "Experiment. Have fun. Make us proud."

One thoughtful, one melancholy, the planeswalkers left the nascent universe of Ungula.

"Surprise!" Pinkie Pie manifested in a burst of confetti and warped spacetime. "Happy birthday, kids! Well, using the arbitrary definition of a year that I learned as a filly and a loose definition of 'birth', but hey! Party!" The pony realized that her creations were nowhere to be seen. "Hello?"

"Mom!" Though the plane was still largely void, Lauren still galloped to her accidental creator rather than simply drift. "Hi! I wasn't expecting you, but, well, you're here! That's great!"

"I know!" The party pony looked over the alicorn. "Oh my gosh, look at you! You've grown so much!"

The other mare grinned sheepishly. She appeared to be a fully grown alicorn now, shaped more like a thin horse than her mother. "Well, Dis and I were messing with the flow of time a while back. I think we may have gone a little overboard with the temporal compression." A realization struck. "Hey, speaking of... DISCORD!"

The draconequus's head poked out of Lauren's mane. "You called, dear sister?"

She rolled her eyes. "We have a guest."

"Oh?" He noticed Pinkie. "Oh! Mumsy! You grace our humble home with your delightful presence. How inexpressibly fantastic!"

The planeswalker smirked. "Neither of you has to eat. How'd you get so full of manure?"

Discord swooned, most of his body still lost in his sister's hair. "Oh, you wound me, Mother, you really do. Is it so hard to believe that I might be sincere? That I might be pushed to the peaks of purple prose by your portentous pink presence?"

"Perhaps," ceded Pinkie, "but it seems a lot more likely that you've discovered the fine art of sarcasm."

"And how," the spirit said jovially. He completed his Athenian emergence and lounged on nothing. "So, what brings you here, mamacita?"

"Well, going by a calendar that technically doesn't exist yet, it's your birthday! And that means it's time for a birthday party!" The enthusiastic mare produced and blew a noisemaker.

"A party? Splendid! I don't suppose dear Father was invited?"

Lauren frowned. "Yeah, how is Dad? I haven't seen him since we met Aunt Jhoira."

Pinkie shrugged. "I can't really visit him all that often. Reaching outside of time too much too quickly can have some really nasty side effects. Like universe-destroying nasty."

"Go on..." Discord was rapt.

His sister beaned him on the nose. "Hey! No breaking the playground, remember?"

"What, I'm not allowed to find a way to make it nonterminal while keeping it interesting?"

The alicorn raised an eyebrow. "I thought the macroscopic was 'unutterably passé.'"

"What can I say? The bloom appears to have fallen from the quantum rose. I can't say for certain, of course, but I could be persuaded to work on a visible scale."

The pink mare laughed. "It's nice to see you're getting along." She looked around and her smile lessened. "Though you don't seem to have done much."

Lauren shrugged. "I'm still figuring out how everything works."

Discord nodded. "Likewise. After all, the best way to break something requires you to understand how it's been put together."

Pinkie blinked, then snickered. "You sillies! You don't have to learn the rules! You get to make the rules!"

The siblings looked at one another, then back to their mother. As one, they asked, "Really?"

"Of course! When I said this place was yours to shape, I meant it!" Before either incarnation could fully consider the implications, she continued, "Now who wants cake?"

Some time after the festivities and Pinkie's departure, Discord noticed something odd. After a moment, he realized it was a light source. He was familiar with light, usually as a byproduct of an explosion, but he'd never seen something shine so steadily. Curious, he approached the phenomenon, unsurprised to see Lauren there. "So, what's all this?"

"Hi, Dis," grunted his sister, clearly under great strain.

The draconequus decided that given his sister's focus, it would be best to wait. Half a second later, his patience ran out and he repeated the question.

With a frustrated sigh, the alicorn allowed the ball of fire to burst, harmlessly engulfing both of them. "I'm trying to make an eternal explosion."

Idle curiosity became genuine interest. "Fun. How goes it?"

"Well, explosions have an unfortunate tendency to fly out in all directions."

"To explode, in other words."

"...Anyway, I can barely keep it together and keep it going."

"Hmm..." The chaos spirit considered the issue. "Well, normally I'd say 'When in doubt, make a bigger explosion,' but that seems like it's going to be rather counterproductive here."

Lauren nodded. "And I tried going small. Got some sparks that held together, but they fizzled out fairly quickly. Not what I was going for."

Discord shrugged. "Well, I'm not sure what to tell you, Laurie. I'm not usually one for making things last."

"That's it!"

"What's it?"

"Well, you know how..." The alicorn grew subdued. "How Mom meant to make you but not me?"

Her brother scowled. "I will not have you using that kind of denigrating language about yourself." The curve of his mouth flipped. "Leave it to us professionals."

This got an appreciative chuckle. "I love you too, Dis. Anyway, the point is that I showed up anyway. I think that's a rule we can't change: There has to be a balance."

Discord harrumphed. A truly immutable law of the universe? Challenge accepted. But not right now. "So?"

"So, I need a counterbalance for the explosion ball." Lauren's horn became encased in darkness so profound that it made the surrounding void literally pale in comparison. Hints of color played along the aura's edge in a conical aurora. Her magic began attracting particles from throughout the universe into a clump before the twins.

"Where are you getting it all?" asked the draconequus.

"All those explosions of yours leave smoke and ash. It adds up after a while." The redhead stopped once the dustball was as big as her head. "Now..." Another ball of fire burst into existence. Its creator beamed in triumph. "It's easier now." The two spheres began to circle one another. "Much easier."

"Excellent!" The chaos spirit watched his sister rather than her work. Her smile was slowly sinking into a disappointed frown. "Er, it is excellent, isn't it?"

In reply, the alicorn stopped focusing. The fireball promptly burst, sending a plume of dust into space. "It's still not self-sustaining." She growled, "I don't get it! I had the balance going and everything! Hot and cold, matter and energy, light and darkness—"

"Order and chaos?" Discord gave a rather sinister grin. "Make them again. Don't spin them this time."

"You've got an idea?"

"I think so."

Gathering the dust again was a simple affair, and its antipode was easily reignited. "Go for it."

The draconequus stuck a claw in each orb and plucked out a pinch of dust and a mote of plasma. With an "Alley oop!" the minute amounts were each placed in the center of the other ball.

The effect was almost immediate. Both orbs started to spin on their axes, collapsing in on themselves. When they stabilized shortly thereafter, each had become a discrete solid of half its original diameter. The fireball had turned pink, the dust clump blue.

Discord poked the blue one. "Squishy," he observed.

Lauren was astonished. "Did you know that this would happen?"

Her brother, now juggling the mystery balls, fixed her with an incredulous stare. "Are you kidding? I was hoping that they would both explode."

The order spirit gave a flat look of her own, then magically snared her creations. Bringing them to her, she chided, "Careful with them."

"Why? You know how to make more."

"Because I don't want to have to make more." She considered the balls. "I get the feeling that these are important." Her eyes widened. "Whoa."

This fanned Discord's sputtering interest. "What?"

"They're absorbing my magic." Lauren watched closely. When she didn't intensify the aura to compensate, it didn't shrink. Instead, the orbs slowly expanded, leaving the outer edge of the telekinesis unmoved. "They're growing with it."

"The pink one's faster," noted the chaos spirit.

"It had more energy to start with." When the rosy ball was half again as wide as when it solidified, it stopped drinking in its maker's magic. A minute or so later (for a familiar definition of a minute,) its counterpart followed suit.

"Well, that was interesting," said Discord, almost meaning it. "Want to go quantum foam surfing?"

The answer was distant and distracted. "I think I'll stay here for a while."

This got a shrug. "Suit yourself."

As Discord continued to tweak, warp, detonate, and otherwise mess around with reality, Lauren stayed with the balls. She soon grew tired of how they tended to drift away from her without constant supervision, so she willed a solid surface into existence. Gravity, friction, and inertia were crafted for the sake of convenience.

As she lay on the solid, orbs staying still at her side, the alicorn considered this new creation. Usually, she was too busy having fun to worry about details, but right now she had nothing but time. The surface was that and that alone: a surface. It had no real color or texture, shape or material. It just was, because all she had told it to do was to be.

It had been enough for her purposes before, but now it struck her as sloppy and unimaginative. Lauren began to consider the possibilities. Suppose it was soft and yielding, like the balls?

She immediately sank into the now unresisting surface, her legs suddenly trapped by her own body weight. Another thought undid the transmutation. "Okay," she admitted, "bad idea."

So, maybe not that soft, but not the obnoxious hardness of something purely defined by being an impassable barrier. But what?

Morphic resonance is a strange phenomenon that can be summarized as a magically enforced version of "form defines function." Though Lauren was a quasiphysical manifestation of order and reason, though she knew of little beyond the abstract and the cosmic, she was still a pony. On an instinctual level, she knew what she wanted. So she made it.

Still chuckling to himself as he returned to macroscopic size, Discord flipped to a new page in the spiral notebook. "Note to self:" he dictated, "Bolt cutters plus gluons equals hilarity!" Satisfied, he ate his notes. They tasted like cake.

"Now, let's see if Lauren's still fussing over those balls of... hers?" The draconequus trailed off, gaping at the enormous orb of rock before him. The scale was beyond anything either sibling had ever wrought. He felt a strange blend of awe, fraternal pride, and a hint of fear.

After staring at the thing for some time, he felt the need to restore some dignity. Preferably with snark. "Well, that's new."

Pinkie noticed the wall clock. "Omigosh, look at the time! I've gotta get going. I need to help the Cakes get everything ready for a big wedding this weekend!

"Now!?" cried Twilight. "But what about the rest of the story? What were those balls? What happened to this 'Faust' pony? How do you know all of these details if you weren't there for most of it?"

The party pony shook her head, a condescending smile on her lips. "Oh, Twilight. Those are entirely the wrong sorts of questions. 'How do I know the details,' how do you think? I asked." She looked back at the clock and anxiously bit her lip. "But seriously, I gotta go now." She zipped through the front door, one last shouted sentence Clopplering in her wake. "I'll tell you the rest later!"

The unicorn groaned in frustration. "Confound that pony, she hinders science!"

"I should probably go too," noted Ditzy. "I'll see when Pinkie and I share a hole in our schedules and get back to you."

Twilight smiled gratefully. "Could you? It's a nightmare trying to work her into my itinerary myself."

"Not a problem."

"Oh, and Ditzy?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you know about... about any of this?"

The pegasus shook her head. "No, but now that I do, it makes a frightening amount of sense."

Planar Synthesis 6UUU
Sorcery
Each player shuffles his or her hand, graveyard, and all permanents he or she owns into his or her library, then draws seven cards. Each player may put any number of permanent cards in his or her hand onto the battlefield, then draws that many cards. Empty all mana pools. Exile Planar Synthesis.

Equestria
Plane — Ungula
All creature cards not on the battlefield, all creature spells, and all creatures are Ponies in addition to their other types.
Whenever you roll , you may search your library for a Pony card, reveal it, and put it into your hand. Then shuffle your library.

No Such Pony, No Such Zone

The planeswalkers of Ponyville sat in Ditzy Doo's living room. Between them was more than five thousand years of unimaginable experience, the friendship of dozens of other travelers of the æther, and knowledge of countless spells that the scholars of Canterlot would consider against the understood laws of magic, nature, and/or decency. And a teapot.

"So," asked Ditzy, "how about next Thursday?"

Pinkie considered it, then shook her head. "No can do. It's Silver Platter's birthday and she's actually in Ponyville for once. I couldn't miss that party."

The pegasus nodded. "If only for her daughter's sake."

"Oh, Spoon's not a bad filly. She's a good influence on Diamond Tiara."

This prompted a raised eyebrow. "And Barrin was a good influence on Urza."

The party pony gave a wry grin. "Well, if Tiara starts building a robot army, we can worry."

Both laughed at the mental image. Ditzy swirled the dregs in her cup. "Seriously, though. I'd like to get the rest of the story. I mean, you literally made Equestria! How could I not?"

"Well, I made Ungula. Equestria was Faust's work. Though the author does tend to use the latter as a synecdoche for the former." Pinkie added a bit more tea to her sugar as the grey mare decided it best not to ask. "Anyway, the point is that you promised Twilight that you'd find a hole in all our schedules and she'd go full-on Cream of Wheat if she wasn't there for the rest."

"'Cream of Wheat'?"

"Even crazier than oatmeal."

Ditzy considered this. "So where does 'mutant energy being' rate on the hot cereal scale?"

"Ooh, tough one..." The earth mare sipped a mixture that would destroy lesser pancreases. "I don't think they make one that crazy." She paused a moment more, coming to a decision. "Hay, while we're off topic?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I'm kinda working on something for you, but I need some information from you before I can go any further."

"What do you need?"

Pinkie nervously spun the teacup in her hooves. "Promise you won't be mad?"

Ditzy held back a sigh. That was Pinkie for you. One minute she's revealing ancient cosmic wisdom, the next she's acting like she's Dinky's age. "I promise."

"Cross your heart, hope to..." The other planeswalker trailed off, faced against the logistic conflict of the Pinkie Swear when applied to pegasi. She grinned sheepishly. "Um, I'll take your word for it. Anyway, I kinda need to know what... what happened to Address."

"Oh." Funny, the blonde didn't recall putting any lead in the tea. Why the sudden dead weight in her stomach?

"I-if it's too personal—"

"No, no, it's fine." Ditzy sighed. "If I can't tell you, I couldn't tell anypony." She took a deep breath, steadying herself for the memories. "I was about eight months pregnant with Dinky..."

Ditzy loved her husband, but he was doing an awful lot of hovering for a wingless pony. "Are you sure you're going to be alright?" he asked for what felt like the twentieth time that morning.

The pegasus rolled her eyes. "Address, look at my flank."

"Honey, you're beautiful and I love you, but—"

"I said 'look at my flank,' not 'mount me.'"

"Okay," he said uncertainly, "I'm looking."

"What do you see?"

"Bubbles." The unicorn had no idea where his wife was going with this.

"Not a 'Fragile' stamp?"

Now he did. Ears drooping, Address sighed, "No..."

"Then I'll be fine." Ditzy gave the stallion a peck on the cheek. "It's just a routine checkup. You've got nothing to worry about and a post office that needs running."

He gave one last plantive look. "Could you at least stop by to say hello on your way back home?"

"Promise not to delay delivery until I do?"

The unicorn smirked. "I promise nothing."

The gravid mare gave a good-natured sigh. "Then I'll just have to tell Nurse Icehooves to make it a rush job, for the sake of everypony's mail."

Address nuzzled her gratefully. "See that you do. Love you, Derpy Girl."

"Love you, Stud Muffin."

Ditzy left the hospital pleased, if still unpleasantly chilly in some personal areas. She was on track for having a beautiful, healthy foal in just ten short weeks. Furthermore, once she delivered, she wouldn't fly like a stunned cow anymore. "Trouble before you're even born," she whispered. "This better not be a sign of things to come, my little pony."

Her maternal reflections were interrupted by bumping against somepony else. "Sorry!" Way to go, Ditzy, she thought, only other pony in the street and you manage to knock into him.

"Hmmph," grunted the stallion. "Cursed place. Twisting body, twisting mind. Dare mock the mad? Hmmph."

"Ooookay, backing away now..."

As Ditzy did so, the grizzled pegasus spoke again. "Halt!" The voice suddenly carried so much authority, the mare found herself obeying before she could even think. "You. You carry the scent of power."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Ha!" It wasn't really a laugh, more of a shout that happened to sound like one. "You? Beg? You need not beg." The bizarre pony began to pace around Ditzy. She noted his cutie mark, a glowering dragon's head. He pressed on. "No, you are a wolf among lambs. A dragon amidst newts." He stopped in front of her, pausing in his rant as he came to some mad epiphany. "A dragon? The dragon spoke of a dragon. Could it be? Could it not?"

The blonde moved to one side. "Um, I'll just..."

One of his wings snapped open to block her path, seemingly without his notice. Ditzy's eyes widened as she took in the appendage. It was a thing of skin and scales. This pony had the wings of a dragon.

Oblivious to her terror, he continued his raving. "Told to seek dragon, but not brooding mother. No, hatchling is what the dragon wants. But the egg has not hatched. What now, madman?" The dreadlocked stallion nodded to himself. "We wait."

A chill ran down the mare's spine. "Madman," he'd said. Madman. This was no pony. This was a planeswalker. "What are you doing here?" she asked warily.

He gave another shout-laugh, staring into the distance. "She asks wisely. What brings the grown man to the land of ponies?" He wheeled to face her. "Innocence? Whimsy? Friendship? Ha!" With every word, he stomped forward, forcing her to back away. "No, it is the dragon that brought me here. He holds the madman's leash, he sics his mad dog on this world of prey. And the dragon's quarry is you."

"M-me?" Ditzy skimmed through her memories of the Multiverse. She certainly would've remembered attracting the attention of a dragon. Wouldn't she? "What dragon?"

"Dark dragon. Smart dragon. Giant wyrm of hate." A hint of fear came to the disheveled pony's bloodshot eyes. His words grew hushed. "Elder dragon. 'Walker dragon. Rules our fate."

She blanched. Tezzeret had hinted at a draconic superior. The Myojin had given it a name. Jace had told her its story. The oldest, cruelest, most powerful being in the known Multiverse. "Bola-"

"NO!" A hoof slammed over her mouth."Speak not the name! He will hear. He will see."

From what she'd heard, Ditzy didn't doubt it. Moving the limb aside, she asked, "Why me?"

This struck the mad planeswalker as the height of comedy. His laughter was harsh, brutish, and long, interspersed with breathless repetitions of "Why me?"

The blonde decided to take the opportunity to move away, resuming her course to the post office. Even if she wanted to have a duel in the middle of Ponyville, she was in no condition to do so. With her body busy nurturing another life, her magic was as slow and clumsy as her flight.

She didn't get far before the transformed madman pounced in front of her. "Why you?" he snapped. "Why you? Why anyone? Why anything? The dragon wants. The dragon gets. To ask why is folly. Come with me."

"Why? Where?"

"The egg must hatch."

Much as she wished she didn't, Ditzy understood. This crazed minion had convinced himself that one of the most ancient evils of all time wanted her child. She crouched and flared her wings. "Not on your life."

He snorted and smacked himself. "Fool! Egg thief! Mother guards the nest."

"You'd better believe she does." Slowly, she felt the mana coalesce. She just had to keep talking to him, keep him distracted.

"Mother guards the nest. Mother is the nest." He grinned, arcane fires bursting to life in his eyes. He began to bulge, his voice deepening as his body reshaped itself. "Take the mother. Take the nest. Take the mammal."

Ditzy braced herself, but she knew it was an empty bluff. All of her available resources were devoted to the one spell still taking shape at a snail's pace. She was pretty much helpless.

Then something went straight through one of her adversary's leathery wings. With a noise that was half pained whinny, half furious roar, he shrank back to his still formidable equine form, then whirled around. "Who!?"

"Me." Address Unknown pawed at the ground, surrounded by a swarm of magically suspended envelopes.

The dragon mage hesitated for a moment, confused. Then his nostrils flared and he sneered in comprehension. "Broodmate comes to protect his clutch! Think you a hellkite, little drake?"

The unicorn said nothing. The letter he'd sent through one wing rose again and threaded through the other as he recalled it.

Enraged, the other stallion charged, flames licking out of his muzzle. As he exhaled a torrent of flame, the mailpony vanished.

He reappeared next to Ditzy and gave her a kiss. "I thought I'd run into you if I started the route now."

She was still processing his arrival. "You can teleport?"

Address smirked. "I teleport mail to other cities all the time."

"You can teleport yourself?"

"Not far or easily, but... Ditz, this really isn't the time." He looked back at the dragon-winged pony, who was trying to incinerate the swarm of messages that were slicing through air and skin alike. "What's with this pony?"

"He's insane."

"That much I gathered."

His wife sighed. "Look, it's a long story, and I'll tell you if we're still alive afterwards."

This cracked the expecting father's confidence. "'If'?"

Ditzy thought it best to change the subject. "Do you see that glowy patch right in front of us?" Her spell had finally progressed to the point of visibility, though at the moment that meant it made an area of dirt road brighter than usual.

"Yeah..."

"Get him in there. It's our best hope."

"If you say so, Derpy Girl."

She pecked him on the cheek. "Good luck."

"I'll need it," admitted Address. "There goes the last of the junk mail."

As the ashen remains of a Publisher's Clearing Barn entry form fluttered around him, the mad stallion turned back to the couple. His wings were ragged and his body filiggreed with paper cuts, but any pain he felt only fueled his rage. "You have no more fangs, drake."

"None I'm willing to lose," corrected the mailpony. His magic brought something out of his saddlebags. "But I still have these."

The planeswalker's gaze locked onto the new threat. He spat a stream of flame at it.

Address simply moved it to hover over the other shoulder, trying to ignore the coat-singing heat.

"You're just distracting him," whispered Ditzy, "right?"

"Nope." Both spouses ducked as a wider swathe of fire passed over them, its caster slowly approaching.

"You really think you can beat him with a roll of stamps?"

"Watch me. Go right!"

The two ran in different directions, avoiding a blistering pulse of energy that left a thin molten trail in its wake. Faced with seperate targets, the dragon mage opted for his objective, moving to intercept the pregnant mare.

"Wrong choice, buddy!"

Sarkhan Vol looked behind him. The mate had looped around and was charging him, horn down. The madman sneered. His matted tail reshaped itself into a dragon's maw and belched fire at the fool.

Amazingly, the fool ran straight through the flames, not even flinching. The planeswalker halted in astonishment and the slightest bit of grudging respect. He could see the shining burns, the still smouldering coat, but the pony seemed not to care.

The minion soon cursed his weakness, for once he was still, the beast's paltry magic wrapped its talismans around his waist with surprising speed. Vol turned fully, snapping the fragile length of paper, and drew heavily on his mana bonds. It was time to see just how much dragonfire this insect could withstand.

Address had different plans. As the other stallion took a deep breath, he plowed into him. One foreleg pinching his foe's throat shut, the mailpony channeled the most magic he ever had. The loop of stamps that wrapped around the pegasus's barrel came out to enough postage to send something to the Moon and back. As his horn flared into overglow, the purple pony could feel that it was more than enough to convince his magic that this was just another package. Half-blind from his own display, he thrust himself and his fearsome freight through space with a shout of "Special delivery!"

As Ditzy watched, both stallions materialized just as her oblivion ring finally finished forming. To her eyes and her horror, planeswalker, pony, and prison seemed to explode in a blinding display. When her vision cleared, there was no trace of any of them.

"After I had Dinky, I checked out the spot every way I knew, but it was as if nothing had ever happened." The pegasus shook her head. "I didn't know what else I could do. Officially, Address was missing, presumed dead. What could I say?" She sighed. "The one thing I still don't understand is why nopony else ever looked out their window or something."

Pinkie considered this. "What day was it?"

"Megan eighteenth, 5868. I'll never forget that day." Ditzy frowned, perplexed. "Why do you ask?"

The party pony nodded to herself, confirming something against her vast database of festivities past, present, and future. "There was a block party on the other side of town. Given who'd attended, the area near the post office would've been just about deserted."

"Oh..." The blonde slumped. "Why'd you need to know this, anyway?"

Pinkie grinned. "Well, if I didn't know where he went, how could I get him back?"

So great was her shock that Ditzy's eyes were perfectly aligned for the rest of the day.

One week later

"So you're sure this will get Address back?" Ditzy looked over the "ritual space" skeptically.

"Of course I'm sure!" gushed Pinkie. "I even consulted the Mystical Orb of Fate's Destiny (patent pending.)"

The pegasus glanced at the indicated crystal ball. She couldn't detect anything magical about it, but this was Pinkie Pie. Ditzy wouldn't have been surprised if the party pony could scry through a bowl of cake frosting.

The earth pony continued to bustle about the tent. "Just leave this to the professional," she continued, "I'll have your hubby back in two shakes of a blinking jiffy!"

"Well, if you're sure..."

The pink mare frowned at her fellow planeswalker. "I sense doubt in you."

Ditzy's eyes went to opposite corners of the tent. "It's just that this doesn't exactly feel... reputable." No, it seemed... "mystical." Not the sort of atmosphere she'd felt around the genuinely mystic, but an amalgamation of candles, dream catchers, incense burners, and other foofaraw with which gullible unicorns would surround themselves, thinking that it would make them more powerful. Pinkie's Roamany outfit and the quartet of Screwballs didn't help the credibility.

"Mugwump," added one of the quasiponies, garbed like her comrades in a face-concealing black robe.

Pinkie scoffed at the grey mare's skepticism. "Who cares how it looks as long as it works?" Her expression soured as she adjusted her turban. "Still, I will not perform the ritual with such a Doubty McDoubterson present. Vamoose."

"But he's my—"

"Vamoose!"

"All right, all right, I'm vamoosing!"

As Ditzy vamoosed, she heard the party pony shout "Alright, girls, let's make Mark Rosewater cry!"

This prompted a low, surprisingly synchronized chant by the avatars of discord. "Ooga chaka ooga ooga, ooga chaka ooga ooga..."

The pegasus looked back at the tent. A haze the color of coagulating blood began to pour out of the flaps. She hoped it was mana and not smoke from a poorly placed candle.

A fifth voice cut in over the avatars' chant. It was presumably Pinkie's, but seemed far deeper than her vocal range should've allowed. "I can't stop this feeling..."

The haze poured out of the tent with greater urgency, seeming to reach out towards Ditzy.

"Deep inside of me..."

She tried to move further back, but was quickly engulfed. She thought to take flight, but she was choking on the cloying fumes before she could do more than unfold her wings.

"Girl, you just don't realize what you do to me."

The blonde noted the aptness of the incantation just before she passed out.

Ditzy drifted, as though in a dream. Nothing seemed entirely real. Sounds were muted by the ongoing chant. Vision, smell, and taste were all constrained by the curious smoke, which was sufficiently cloudlike to impede touch as well. Even her uniquely pegasine senses felt uncalibrated and ambiguous, direction and altitude as uncertain as for a pony lost in the Everfree.

Even the flow of time felt vague, but eventually, wonderfully concrete sensations broke through the haze. Strong limbs held her tight against a firm chest. Muffled words in a familiar voice tickled her ears. Lips she knew so well pressed against hers, sweeter than any candy.

Seconds, hours, months... Ditzy couldn't say how much more time she spent exulting in the feelings. Whenever it was that she regained lucidity, she immediately noticed three things. One, she was back in the tent. Two, the singing avatars were nowhere to be seen, while Pinkie was dabbing at her eyes with a hoofkerchief. Three, Ditzy herself was on her side, her limbs entwined with those of a pony she had last seen in a space beyond space.

Hesitantly, she nuzzled the seemingly familiar stallion. The words caught in her throat a few times before she was able to force them out. "Address? Is that really you?"

"Exact postage or it's goin' nowhere," came the sleepy reply.

The pegasus practically squeezed the life out of her husband. She then looked to the earth pony. "Pinkie, I don't think we'll ever be able to repay for what you've done today."

The other planeswalker blew her nose, then smiled. It wasn't her usual incandescent beam, but a warm expression that spoke of a sublime, loving joy. "Be happy with one another. That's my only price."

Ditzy turned back to the unicorn in her hooves. "I think we can handle that."

The reaction of Dinky's peers to her cutie mark had been... mixed. The Crusaders thought it was cool, but beneath their enthusiasm was the undercurrent of jealousy they felt towards everypony who left the ranks of the blank flanks. Other unicorns had been wary. Most were still mastering the basics of magic, and to them, Dinky represented the very equinification of their difficulties and frustrations. Even those who were confident with their horns seemed to avoid her. She had realized that simply knowing that she could hinder their magic shot their confidence, which made their magic worse, which they of course blamed on her. Nopony said anything out loud, but the looks spoke volumes.

Yet for all the envy and scorn, neither group was quite as bad as the others. The earth ponies and pegasi just didn't seem to get it. To them, her talent seemed to be the absence of one. After all, what was the point of a unicorn who made things less magical? The very image of the sputtering wand suggested to them that something was wrong with its bearer. As Diamond Tiara had so succinctly put it, "It's a dud, just like you."

With the beginning of school, all of these attitudes for heaped on her at once. Miss Cherrilee had been encouraging, of course, but it was clear that she was just trying to cheer Dinky up. "I'm sure there's more to your cutie mark than just stopping magic." Really? Did she think that the filly couldn't read between the lines?

Needless to say, the end of the school day had come as a relief. As the other foals stampeded out of the schoolhouse, she trudged, weighed down by her peers' dismissal.

As the filly sighed, she heard her mother. "Muffin?" Ditzy asked concernedly. "What's wrong?"

Her gaze fixed on the ground, Dinky answered, "Everypony thinks my special talent is stupid."

The two began to walk home. "Countermagic is a divisive topic," acknowledged the pegasus. "Some think it's just mean. Others couldn't live without it."

"But that's in the big, dangerous, exciting Monkeyverse," grumbled the unicorn.

"Multiverse, sweetie."

"Whatever. Equestria's nice and happy and peaceful. Nopony here needs somepony who just ruins everything."

"Even in a seemingly gentle place, some things need ruining."

The filly glared at the dirt, unconvinced. "Like what?"

Ditzy smiled, then feigned deep concentration. "What was it again? You were so excited to tell me this morning."

"It doesn't matter..."

Mother nudged daughter. "Humor me, Grumpy Muffin."

Dinky sighed, then monotonously recited, "Poison joke, when properly prepared, could probably act as a cure for the gaze of a cockatrice, 'cause it'll take a stoned pony and make them into a silly one. Because puns." She shrugged. "But that's obvious."

"Really? Because when I mentioned it to Miss Twilight, she spent the next hour in her lab and came back covered in chalk dust, raving about how my little muffin had just revolutionized botanical medicine."

This got the filly's attention away from the ground. "Really?"

"Yup."

She scrunched up her face in confusion. "But.. but anypony could've figured that out."

"Anypony with an intuitive understanding of how magic comes together and how it falls apart." The mailmare beamed with pride. "Those ponies are few and far between."

The two continued in silence, Dinky deep in thought. As they neared home, she spoke up again. "Why'd you go to Miss Twilight? Was it just 'cause of what I said?"

"Partly," answered Ditzy. "Another part was that not all of her mail comes through Spike. And the other part is in my saddlebag." She opened the container and passed its contents to her daughter.

The filly held the book in her azure aura and examined the cover. "The Young Unicorn's Guide to Physics: An Introduction to the Rules You Were Born to Break"

"Or in your case," noted her mother, "to enforce."

The young unicorn's face split into a massive grin. "Wow!"

"And there's one more thing."

"What? What?"

Ditzy opened their front door. An older male unicorn walked out. He gave an awkward smile, clearly unsure what to do. "Hey, kiddo. Good to finally meet you."

Dinky's jaw dropped. The book fell to the ground, forgotten. She was silent for a moment, reworking what had been an abstract concept in her mind. "...Daddy?"

"I... I know I haven't been here for you or your mom," said Address, "but it wasn't because I didn't want to be here. And I promise that I'm not going to leave you again for a long, long time."

For all his daughter cared, he could've declared himself Emperor of Yugoatslavia. "Daddy!"

As the child he just met nuzzled him as though she'd known him all her life, Address Unknown looked to his wife, tears in his eyes. "I'm really home."

Streams running down her own cheeks, Ditzy nodded and joined in the embrace. "You are."

To Here From Eternity XWU
Sorcery
Put onto target face-up exiled nonland card a number of time counters equal to that card's converted mana cost minus X. If that card has no time counters on it, put a time counter on it. If it doesn't have suspend, it gains suspend. (If a negative number of counters would be put on that card, instead put no counters on it.)

Fiat Harmonia

"Okay." Twilight smiled. Finally, the time had arrived. Finding a common time to discuss the creation of the universe had taken almost two months, three false starts, four friendship reports, and what would forever be known as "The Cutie Mark Crusader Spellcasters Incident."

But at last, she, Pinkie, and Ditzy had gotten together, and the party pony would complete her tale. The unicorn had even ordered a prototype audiocrystal recorder from Canterlot for posterity. "Testing. Testing. Celestia summons six seraphs singing sea shanties."

"Maybe we should just hear the rest of the story first," suggested Ditzy. "That way, Pinkie doesn't have to repeat herself while we don't know the whole story."

Twilight hesitated. Expedite the revelation, or play with her new toy? Er, scientific apparatus. Of science. And not play. She couldn't decide, so she passed the bit. "Pinkie, do you have a preference?"

The earth mare nodded. "Let's just finish the story. We can record it offscreen." Before either other pony could ask, she pressed on. "So, Faust had just created the planet, and Discord had just discovered it. Now he needed to find her..."

Despite the unprecedented scale involved, Discord quickly located his sister. The two were like magnetic poles, drawn to one another by their complementary nature.

Oh, and she was the only light source on or around the dirtball. There was that too.

In any case, the draconequus came down from on high, applauding the alicorn's work. "Well done, Laurie, well done. I'm not certain as to how, what, or why, but the sheer magnitude clearly deserves some praise. Really, it's about time that..." He trailed off once he realized that the order spirit hadn't even tried to get in a word edgewise. That wasn't at all normal behavior for her. Given who and what she was, that constituted one of the rare abnormalities that her brother thought of as a bad thing.

"Laurie?" Discord leaned down and picked up one of the prone pony's legs by the pastern. He gave it a halfhearted shake and let go. It fell back into the dirt. "Lauren?" He brought himself face-to-face with her. Her eyes were shut. Her body was rising and falling in a rhythm he found mildly irritating in its regularity. "Sister?" She was either unaware of him or simply ignoring him, and he wasn't sure which he would rather be the case.

The embodiment of chaos sat and thought for a moment. His beloved sibling had done something incredible, yet at the same time had rendered herself woefully boring. There was clearly only one illogical recourse: Destroy what she had wrought! Surely the opposite cause would have the opposite effect! (Ugh, causality. So predictably linear. But Father had insisted, who was Discord to complain? Well, himself, obviously, but that was increasingly besides the point.)

His plan determined as much as he could stomach, the spirit began gathering ruinous power into his mismatched claws. Oh, he might have been able to dissolve the giant chunk of earth with a snap, but where was the fun in that? Something as magnificent as this deserved an equally magnificent sendoff, and by Father's shiny bald head, he would give it one!

Thankfully for the future of the plane, Discord was distracted by something shiny before he could unleash the entropic maelstrom. Annihilative energies evaporating along with his focus, he noticed the two balls that had been Lauren's constant companions of late. He grinned. Perhaps his sister's unresponsiveness could be resolved by more subtle means. And if it couldn't? Well, nothing was more alluring than that which was forbidden.

Whistling innocently (and horribly off-key), he let his gaze fall on them as if by accident. "Oh, goodness me," cooed the draconequus, "would you look at that? Dear Laurie's little plump balls of delight. Why, perhaps I'll take them apart and see just what makes them so squeezably soft."

He turned away, eagle talon against his forehead. "Nay! Nay, I must not. They are the treasured possessions of my treasured sister, and countless treasured times has she told me not to practice my destructive urges upon them."

He turned back, eyes gleaming with a wide spectrum of emotions of varying speakabilities. "Ah, but the fun that could be had if I did!"

Away. "No, no, you cruel monster! Think of the time, the effort she expended in crafting such plush perfection!"

Back. "Think of the incalculable delight in tearing it to shreds!"

"No!" "Yes!" "No!" "Yes!"

He broke from the routine to hazard a peek at Lauren. She was still in that peculiar repose of hers. Discord pouted. If that didn't get a rise out of her, then either she discovered some vast unknown reserve of self-control or she really was unaware of her surroundings. Or maybe it wasn't as funny as he'd thought. The chaos spirit dismissed this last thought, inconceivable even by his standards. Even if he had just conceived of it. Internal consistency was for lesser creatures.

In any case, he brought his attention back to the blue and pink lumps. Somehow, actually doing something with them seemed less satisfying than being melodramatic about whether or not to do something with them. Oh well, he was committed now. With a shrug, he reached for them.

Before he touched them, both orbs suddenly popped, gas hissing out of them as they deflated. Discord snatched his forelimbs back. "Were they supposed to that?" he thought aloud.

"Supposed to do what?"

For the second time in his life, the draconequus felt fear. Lauren had returned to the land of the interesting just in time to see her brother standing before her suddenly sagging spheres. Should he vanish? No, surely she would assume the worst. Discord had never seen his sister angry – really, truly furious – before, and he didn't want the first time to be directed at him.

Going against his every impulse and instinct save for his drive to continue existing, the spirit of chaos looked to that of order and unhesitatingly told the complete, honest truth:

"This isn't what it looks like."

No one said he'd be good at it.

Thankfully, Lauren was still waking up. "What isn't what it looks like?"

"I know it looks like I fiddled with those funbags of yours, but—"

Discord was fairly certain there was more to that sentence, but it seemed to escape him as he watched his sister look between him and her balls. Calmly, quietly, evenly, like the mechanisms of a jail cell door's lock sliding into place, she asked, "What happened?"

He swallowed. Her dialogue attribution had gone into an elaborate simile. That was never a good sign. "As far as I can tell, they popped like a pair of heavy-duty balloons and roused you from your whatever-you-were-doing."

"It's called 'sleep,'" the alicorn said absently. "You should try it sometime."

Denying her anything seemed unwise at the moment. "...We'll see."

"It's a lot more interesting to do it yourself than watch someone else." Lauren considered the sagging skins of her first complex creations. She really did believe that her brother had nothing to do with whatever had happened to them, but that left her with no explanation for what had taken place. Or, for that matter, why. Morosely, she nudged the pink one with her muzzle.

It nudged back.

The order spirit recoiled a bit, then poked at its blue counterpart. It responded in kind. She looked to Discord. "You aren't—"

He fervently shook his head. "Your guess is as good as mine."

She turned back to the wriggling sacks just in time to see them begin to glow. The pink one was familiar, the same incandescent plasma that had formed it in the first place. But the blue one...

The background was familiar, the same void that the siblings had grown up in. But the points of light, the delicate plays of color and form against that cosmic background, it was like nothing either embodiment had ever seen. For Discord, it was a fleeting curiosity.

For Lauren, it was water to one who had never known she had thirsted.

As the outer skins finished sublimating, they revealed their occupants. Four tiny eyes peered out at the wide world. Four tiny wings felt their first breeze. Two tiny horns tasted the ambient energies of a universe that had been waiting for them.

"What—" Discord never got past the first syllable. The newborns erupted in a double helix of astronomical power, white and black intertwining as they rose together into the sky. There was an incredible flare, a burst of radiation that would've wiped out any mortal life on the plane.

When their vision cleared, the spirits of order and chaos beheld a black disk outlined in brilliant light. The foals, meanwhile, yawned and fell asleep in each others' hooves.

After some time, the draconequus broke the stunned silence. "Lauren?"

"Yes, Discord?"

"What just happened?"

"I have no idea."

"Good. I was afraid that I was the only one."

"I think we should call Mom and Dad."

"I think you're right. And that frightens me."

"Me too, Dis. Me too." Lauren fished the locket out of its dimensional pocket, which she'd formed to keep the keepsake safe from her brother. Focusing her will through the pendant, the alicorn felt her awareness escape her body, then the universe entirely. It drifted, blind and deaf, through incomprehensible expanses. Purpose guided it to a comforting presence. As the order spirit neared the familiar essence of her mother, sensation returned. Strange colors played in her vision, writhing meaninglessly. The sounds made more sense, though they came from everywhere and nowhere.

Niv... Niv! I don't care how many nephilim you suplexed, you can't stay at my place.
...
I don't care if you did the math, Niv. It could come out to a simonplex and it still wouldn't matter. Rule of Awesome doesn't apply when they haven't even made the sun yet! Look, what about Nic?
...
Yes, I know he's an asshat, but he's our asshat. That's got to count for something.
...
Uh huh.
...
Oh. Oh, well. That kinda changes things then... What about Intet?
...
Well, you didn't seem to mind the risk of a paradox when you wanted me to give you a room.
...
So she's a little granola!
...
Okay, so she's a lot granola, she'd still sit up and roll over if it was you asking.
...
For a scientist, you can be awfully unobservant at times.
...
Yes, I'm sure they haven't made the sun yet! Don't you think I'd know whether or not my plane has a sun?

"Um, Mom?"

Oh! Speak of the executive producer and they'll name a God Card after him.
...
Yes, Niv, I know that's the wrong card game. I have my daughter on the other line.
...
If you go to Intet's place, you'll have an excuse to blow up stuff with Numot.
...
Yeah, I thought so. Later.

Sorry about that, sweetie. One does not simply hang up on Niv-Mizzet. What's up?

"Well, I... actually, I think it'd be easiest if you just saw for yourself."

Of course. How silly of me to think that my only daughter might call me for any reason other than an emergency.

"Mom..."

Oh, I'm teasing. I'll be there faster than you can say-

"Hi, Lauren!"

The alicorn jumped, her consciousness abruptly returned to her body. Sure enough, there was Pinkie Pie in all her poofy glory, taking in the scenery. "Nice, you've really been making progress." She looked up and tilted her head. "Why the eclipse?"

"'Eclipse'?"

"You know, the moon in front of the sun and all."

"You mean that's not one thing?"

The planeswalker sighed. "Alright, who made 'em?"

"Um..." The redhead answered the question with a pointed hoof.

In that direction lay Discord, attempting to wrangle a pair of newborn alicorns into something that might resemble control to the half-blind. "Lauren, these miscreant creations of yours are wearing on my last nerve!" He shot a glare at his sister, spotting Pinkie in the process. "Mother! Oh, thank chaos. A little help?"

The pony's dour expression cracked into a wide grin. "Oh my gosh, I'm a grandma!" She threw open her forelegs. "Come and meet your Granny Pie, kids!"

The foals detached themselves from their plaything, much to his relief. As the draconequus tried to salvage some degree of dignity, he watched the party mare embrace his troublesome... nieces, he supposed? Yes, nieces.

"She's got a way with them, doesn't she?" The elder alicorn moved next to her brother. "Thanks for not just destroying them out of frustration."

Discord smirked. "What, and ruin all the havoc they could wreak? You saw what they did within seconds of... what would you call that? Hatching, perhaps?" The mare shrugged. He pressed on. "Anyway, who knows what other entertaining upheavals they have in store? A little exasperation is worth something like that."

"Hmm."

The chaos spirit raised an eyebrow. He'd been expecting something a bit more coherent. "Are you alright? You seem distracted."

Lauren shook herself. "Sorry, deep in thought. I actually got quite a few ideas from watching Bluey hatching."

"'Bluey'?"

"Well I can't just call her 'the blue one,' now can I?"

Her brother grinned. "Didn't you just?"

The redhead groaned. "Not the point, Dis. I've been inspired here! I don't even know where to begin!"

"With what?"

The alicorn swept a hoof over the wide expanses of bare earth beneath them. "This is only the beginning. It's a canvas. I'm going to make a masterpiece on it." She frowned. "I just don't quite know where to start..."

Discord considered this for a moment. Then he belched out sheets of erratically lined paper. "Pardon me."

His sister beamed like the burp was the greatest thing in existence. "That's it!"

"What is? Gas?"

"No, I'll write it down! Organize my thoughts outside my head! Discord, you're a genius!"

The chaos spirit preened. "Tell me something I don't know."

Lauren paid him no mind. Instead, she was willing scrolls and quills into existence, using her own void-black magic as ink. Furious scratching soon followed as the ideas of a creator deity flowed onto the paper. She didn't even notice as an inkwell and quill flashed into existence on each of her flanks.

Discord, attention deficit draconequus that he was, did. "What in the void is that?" His sister didn't respond, still engrossed in her grand transcription. Put out, the chimera turned to Pinkie Pie. "Mother?"

The party pony was moving the celestial orbs into position, largely by balancing a granddaughter on each forehoof and moving them in arcs while making rocket noises. The foals were giggling like mad, their tiny horns aglow with magic that came to them as easily as breathing. Fortunately for their uncle, she had attention to spare. "Yes, Disky?"

"What exactly happened to Lauren just now?"

"Hmm?" The planeswalker checked for herself and again gasped in delight. "She got her cutie mark!"

"Her what now?"

"Her special talent! Her unique purpose! Her mark of distinction!" Pinkie was gesturing wildly, the alicorns magically attached to her hooves enjoying the wild ride. The newly forged sun and moon could not be reached for comment.

"Ah." Discord considered this for a moment. "When will I get mine?"

"Um..." Pinkie looked down awkwardly. "You, um, won't get one. It's kind of a ponies-only thing." She gave an uncertain smile. "Besides, you're good at everything! Just... unpredictably so."

Her son considered this. Finally, he nodded. "True, true." His attention drifted to his nieces. "So, what's the story with those two?"

The mare nuzzled the fillies. "Aren't they just the cutsiest wootsies you've ever seen?"

"I suppose, but my wootsy experience is rather lacking. And that doesn't answer my question."

"Oh, I'm getting to that. They made the sun and moon, essential accessories for any fashionable planet. See?" She indicated the sun and moon marks on the infants' respective flanks. "They'll maintain the respective orbits and make sure that nothing crashes into anything." She noticed his disappointed expression. "Oh, don't be such a baby. There's more to chaotic fun than thoughtless destruction."

Discord glared indignantly. "I put plenty of thought into that destruction!"

"Uh huh."

"Done!" All eyes turned back to Lauren, who was proudly rolling enough scrolls for a thousand mummy costumes. "This is going to be the best world ever."

"Remember," noted Pinkie, "let your brother help. If you don't maintain balance, balance maintains you."

The elder alicorn considered this. "Is that a threat?"

"A warning." The pink pony set down her grandfoals. "I've got to go. You two keep up the good work. Let the twins chip in when they grow up a little, too."

"So soon?" asked Discord, half serious.

His mother's expression grew melancholy. "The longer I spend here, the better the odds of a paradox." She gave each granddaughter a farewell kiss on the forehead. "Bye bye, Celly. Bye bye, Lulu. Granny Pie'll see you again someday." She looked to her children, pride mixed with regret. "I love you both, and I wish I could stay for longer. Never hesitate to call me if you really are having an emergency. And if something from beyond time, space, and color starts eating the universe, tell her who your mother is. Bye!" Before anyone could ask her to explain, she was gone.

All parties contemplated where she'd been standing for a moment. Discord spoke first. "Am I the only one who's curious about where she got those names?"

"C'westia!" cried the white filly.

"Woona!" added her sister.

"I guess they named themselves," reasoned Lauren. "Guess it comes with being born with a cutie mark."

"Hmm." The draconequus lost interest in the matter. "So, what's first on that list of yours?"

"Volume 1..." The redhead unrolled one of the countless scrolls. "Hmm... oceans!"

"Oceans of what? Iodine? Blood? Nostalgia?"

"Water."

The chaos spirit scowled. "Boring."

Lauren wingshrugged. "Well, no one said you had to help with everything. Besides, someone needs to keep an eye on the twins."

Discord considered this for a moment. "So, oceans, you say?"

After finishing the major items - oceans, ice caps, atmospheric tweaking - the spirits agreed to split up and start working on some personal projects. Discord experimented with other chimeric beings, combining disparate animals into peculiar and potent hybrids. The manticore. The owlbear. The platypus. He also toyed with magic, giving clouds a discriminating solidity and bringing awareness where it was rarely expected or even wanted.

Lauren focused on ensuring the existence of their component species. Both she and her brother knew of them as part of the awareness Pinkie Pie had given them, and the order spirit instinctually knew they were essential to any healthy, functioning ecosystem. She also brought forth vegetation, something her brother had little interest in.

Both kept an eye on the alicorn twins, who wandered the wide world as a playground and place of infinite wonder. Celestia and Luna occassionally made a suggestion, but rarely wrought a new creature. Still, their ideas were gladly adopted by uncle and mother alike, ranging from fantastic creations like the phoenix and the ursa to humble life like the true sunflower and the moonglow moth.

And, of course, there were disagreements.

"Lauren, don't you think youre going a bit overboard with the beetles?"

She frowned. "What's wrong with beetles?"

"Nothing, it's just... well, how many different kinds have you made?"

"Just a few." Her face scrunched with the effort of holding back the truth. "Thousand."

Discord gave a wry grin. "You're in a rut, Sister."

"What would you suggest?"

"How about another collaboration? I've seen your list, hideously meticulous thing that it is. We both know there's one key item that we've been putting off."

The order spirit hesitated, but she knew what he meant. "Sapience."

"Ponies, specifically."

Lauren sighed. "You're right. Call the girls. This is going to be a group effort." The draconequus remained where he was. "Well?"

His expression grew surprisingly serious. "There's also the matter of that 'sleep' thing of yours."

"What?"

"You've been doing it more and more frequently, for longer and longer." It was a rare sight, genuine concern on the face of Discord. "You've taken it upon yourself to create an entire biosphere from whole cloth. You're burning yourself out and we both know it."

The alicorn frowned. "If that were true, and I'm not saying that it is, why say we need to make something as complex as ponies?"

"Because if we don't do it now, you may not have the strength necessary to do so."

There was silence. Twilight broke in. "Well?"

Unusually subdued, Pinkie shrugged. "They brought forth the ponies. Discord was right. Faust was so exhausted afterwards that she went into hibernation. Discord and the Princesses - though they weren't princesses yet - spun off other species from the ponies. Donkeys, zebras, sheep, pretty much everything with hooves. Discord even made some self-aware non-ungulates, like the griffins and the diamond dogs. I introduced dragons myself, because what kind of self-respecting universe doesn't have a few dragons?

"In any case, without Faust's gift for reinvention, for making something more than the sum of its parts, the other races were... subpar. Flawed. Ponies weren't perfect, of course, but the other races just didn't have the same vitality and drive, the same close, intimate connection to the magic of the world.

"Eventually, every item on Faust's list was checked off, and it was then that, without the moderating influence of his sister or her legacy, Discord began to grow... imbalanced. Even time destabilized, leaving our universe out of sync with the rest of the Multiverse for... well, giving a duration wouldn't really have any meaning, but it's no longer the case. Eventually, the Princesses rose up against their uncle, though his magic had long ago made them forgot that he was their family.

"And they sealed him in stone with the Elements of Harmony," concluded Twilight.

Pinkie merely nodded.

Ditzy mulled over the story. "So, is Faust still hibernating?"

"Kind of. It's... complicated."

"How complicated?" asked the unicorn.

Once more, Pinkie manifested in her world. To her surprise, it had been Discord that had called her. "Hey, Disky!" She noticed his subdued demeanor. Worry began to creep into her heart. "What's wrong?"

"I warned her." The chaos spirit's voice was low and distant. He began to pace upside down, his antler digging a few trenches in the dirt. "I told her what she was doing to herself. I noticed the signs even earlier. And what do I do? I force her into something that those very same observations would oppose. I destroy the thing I love. That's what chaos does, isn't it? Destroy. Always destroy. Even when I create, it's just another vehicle for destruction. Even the platypus. Especially the platypus."

The pony put a hoof on his shoulder. "Discord?"

He broke from his revery. "Oh. Mother. You're here. I wasn't sure if you'd come."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Aside from paradoxical ramifications? I estimated that there was a fifty-fifty chance that I'd just erased you from existence. Glad to see that I'm wrong."

"What happened?" asked the mare, a pit forming in her stomach.

"You'd best come see for yourself. Follow me." The draconequus righted himself and stalked off.

As the pair proceeded, Pinkie noted the sheer amount of creation that had taken place. The world looked even more vibrant than she ever remembered it. Of course, the rock farm [had/would have] to be kept barren for any kind of petriculture, but the sheer quantity of life was still staggering.

That vitality made their destination stand out all the more. It was a wide circle of barren earth, where the alicorn twins were standing enraptured. With desperate cheer, their grandmother asked them, "What is it, girls?"

Both looked up. It had been decades since the two had created the sun and moon, but they looked like they'd barely gotten out of diapers. "Momma's asleep," said Luna.

Pinkie got close enough to see for herself. "Asleep" was a generous description. Lauren looked near death. Her coat was soaked, her mane and tail in disarray, her flanks heaving... "What happened?"

"She overworked herself." Discord's voice warbled, grief toying with it. "She's been trying to do everything."

The redhead's eyes fluttered open. "Mom?"

The earth mare knelt by her side, mane straight as a sheet. "I'm here, Laurie."

The order spirit smiled. "We did it, Mom. The ponies are here. You'll be born someday." She shuddered. "Don't know why it's so cold, though..."

Pinkie felt the tears coming. She let them. "You made me proud, honey. You've done more than I ever could've dreamed of. Now rest."

"Yeah. Okay." The alicorn's body began to glow white. "Rest. Sure. Sounds nice. See you in the morning, Mom. Dis, watch the girls. Tia, Luna, make sure your uncle behaves." Her mother and daughters embraced her. Then, with a burst of light, she vanished. In her stead were six... wait, five stone spheres.

Celestia was wide-eyed with horror. "What happened?"

"She's asleep," insisted Luna. "She's dreamin'."

Discord said nothing. He simply left.

Pinkamena held her granddaughters. "I'm sorry, kids."

Luna looked up at her. "Why?"

"You're not gonna have a Momma for a while."

"Will you stay, Granny Pie?" asked Celestia.

The planeswalker hesitated, considering the consequences. "For a while. Then you can go meet other ponies. Be their friends. Sound good?" This got a pair of eager nods, which in turn prompted a small, sad smile. "Good."

"Very complicated," Pinkie said finally.

"Oh." The subtext had been clear enough for even Twilight to pick up on it. "I... guess that's it, then?"

"Well, you can always ask the Princesses, but like I said, their memories of back then are all scrambled 'cause of Discord."

"Right..." The unicorn awkwardly groped for words. "Um... thanks, Pinkie. This was definitely... enlightening."

Ditzy nodded in agreement. "No kidding."

The party pony's smile slipped back into place as though it had never left. "You're welcome!"

That night, as she got ready for bed, Pinkie plucked the Torc of Laughter out of her mane. For a while, she simply stared at the crystal balloon. Gummy latched onto an elbow at one point without her notice. Finally, she kissed the gem and tucked the Element back into her hair.

"Good night, Laurie."

Faust, Mother of Equestria 3GW
Planeswalker — Faust
+1: Put a 2/2 green Pony creature token onto the battlefield.
-2: You may put a Pony, Pegasus, or Unicorn permanent card in your hand onto the battlefield.
-8: Search your library, hand, and graveyard for any number of Pony, Pegasus, and/or Unicorn cards and reveal them. You may cast each of those cards without paying its mana cost. Then shuffle your library.
4

String Theory

Lyra Heartstrings was many things. "Please, Bonnie?"

"No!"

Anthropophile. Virtuoso. Conspiracy theorist. "Oh, come on, I'm on my hocks and knees here!"

"I don't care if you beg me from the deepest pit of Tartarus, the answer'll still be no!"

But she had one title that stood out above all others. "Just one little spell..."

"You do it and you're sleeping on the couch for the rest of your life!"

Horsewhipped. "Okay..." In her defeat, the unicorn slumped to the floor.

This met the approval of her better half. "There, see? You can sit like anypony else. Why do you have to insist on trying to be some horrible creature out of filly tales?"

"Huh?" Lyra noticed her position. "I'm not sitting, I'm wallowing in despair!"

"What do you have to despair about?" Bonbon asked incredulously. "You've got your health, a reputation as a respected musician, and a home with a pony who loves you. What more could you ask for?"

The answer was obvious. "Hands!" The minty mare brought her forehooves before her, but in her mind's eye, she saw entirely different appendages. "Wonderful, flexible, dextrous hands! And yesterday I had them! You know how long I've been trying to get that spell to work!"

The earth pony sighed. "Yes. I do." The endless rants about spell mechanics. The hazy mornings after all-night experimentation sessions. The excuses to Nurse Redheart as she treated backlashes. Oh yes, Bonbon doubted that she'd ever forget her fillyfriend's quest for digits.

"Then you know how important this for me!"

The confectioner groaned. She had hoped that success would mean that Lyra would drop the subject, but instead it had driven her to try and find uses for the horrid things. And when all you have is a hand, everything looks like it should be fingered. Including other ponies. "And it's important to me that we at least keep this obsession of yours out of our bedroom."

"But how can you say you don't like something if you won't even try it?"

"You tell me, Madame Taffybane."

The unicorn winced. That had been a tactical blunder. Her adamant opposition to saltwater taffy had been a sticking point with Bonbon for years. Her expression brightened as she realized it could be turned to her advantage. "I tell you what: Just let me show you the spell, and I'll..." She shuddered. "I'll eat a piece of taffy."

Her fillyfriend seemed not to appreciate the magnitude of this sacrifice. "That's it?"

Lyra bit back a curse. Darn salesponies. Haggling was in their blood. Of course she'd try for a better deal. Still, to live the dream... She forced the words from her throat. "Two pieces?"

The earth mare paused for a moment, clearly confused, before smirking. "I meant that I was surprised that after all of the melodrama, this was all it took for you to actually try taffy. But I'm holding you to the two-piece thing."

The musician sputtered as she tried to figure out what just happened. Finally, she sighed. "Deal." She stood back up. "But at least now I get to show you the spell, right?"

Bonbon rolled her eyes and gave a good-natured, long-suffering sigh that had become a familiar companion during her relationship with Lyra. "Yes, go ahead."

Giddy as a schoolfilly, the unicorn struggled for the focus she needed to perform the spell. However, once she achieved it, everything proceeded smoothly. Eyes closed, she reared up as golden energy played along horn and hooves. As the light around her horn intensified, the aura over her forelimbs warped and twisted, forming the outlines of extremities alien to ponykind.

Her fillyfriend would be lying if she said it wasn't fascinating. She didn't envy pegasi or unicorns; friends' complaints of constant preening and inexplicable headaches had disabused her of any such notions. But there was no denying the splendor before her, of a unicorn in her element, manipulating forces far beyond earth pony ken in a breathtaking display of arcane proficiency. It was an image that Bonbon wished Lyra could see for herself. She wanted her love to see the incredible beauty of the pony that she was rather than chase after some bizarre, unattainable ideal. That this wondrous work was being done to further that ideal made it no less beautiful, just tragically so.

The spell was completed, and the minty mare held up the end results. Her forehooves had softened and warped, five tiny limbs branching off of each. She waggled her new fingers. "See? How incredible is this? Just think of the possibilities!"

Bonbon sighed. Yes, very tragic. "Well, you're not going to explore one of them, I can tell you that."

Lyra's face fell. "How can you look at these and not be amazed?"

"Because you've twisted your body into something unnatural."

"Unnatural? Look at griffins! Look at Diamond Dogs! Look at the dragon who lives in our town!"

"But not ponies." The earth mare approached the unicorn and reared up herself. She leaned on her love's shoulders to stabilize herself and, a few inches from her face, told her, "I don't love hands, Lyra. I love you. I love the mare who makes me feel happier than if I were Royal Confectioner of Equestria. I love the mare who dedicates every public performance to me. I love the mare who called me 'candybutt' when we first met and still does to this day." They kissed, and she asked the pressing question. "Don't you feel the same way?"

"Bonnie..." There were tears in those big, beautiful, golden eyes. "Of course I do. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, dear. We've all got our little eccentricities." The yellow mare's expression grew desperate. "Can we get back on all fours now? I'm not as good at this as you."

Lyra chuckled, then took her fillyfriend's fetlocks in hand and guided them back to the ground. Then, bowed as she was, she found it difficult to get back into a standing position. "Um..."

Bonbon gave a laugh of her own. "I think that says all there is on the matter." The look this got was as confused as its giver's posture. "Hands may be useful," she clarified, "but they aren't really meant for ponies."

Despite herself, the unicorn smiled. "Yeah..." she conceded, focusing again as her delightful digits reverted to ho-hum hooves. "I think we both know what that means."

"No more magically warping your own body into unnatural shapes?"

"Are you kidding?" The musician's grin grew a bit manic. "This calls for more!"

The confectioner felt an eyelid twitch. "What."

"Just having hands clearly isn't enough! I've got to rework all my anatomy for this to be really practical. Weight distribution, shape of the pelvic cradle..." She paused for a beat, reflecting further. "Hay, I might as well see if I can realign my cutie mark, keep the lyre right-side up when I'm standing up straight."

Bonbon shook with repressed fury and exasperation. A thousand objections, insults, and relationship-ending exclamations warred to be first on her tongue. Just when she felt she was going to burst, she felt an unexpected pressure on her nose.
Lyra beamed, pulling back her hoof. "Gotcha."

The earth pony snorted, trying to look unamused. "That wasn't funny."

"Uh huh."

"I *pfft* I mean it."

"Oh, I'm sure."

"I'm going to go for a walk because I'm s-so mad right now."

"I'm sure you don't want to say anything we'll both regret."

"And don't you f-forget it!" Bonbon trotted out the door, snickers escaping ever more frequently.

"Have fun, candybutt!" Lyra called after her. She was rewarded with the sound of unrestrained laughter fading into the distance.

Once the peals of mirth were out of earshot, the unicorn gave a sigh of relief. She astonished herself sometimes. It had taken some real quick thinking to make that diatribe on the next phase of her human emulation sound like a joke. That she'd been activated in midsentence hadn't helped, but at least it meant that she'd been able to backpedal before the point of no return.

She shook her head. Such was an occupational hazard of her real job. The sheer quantity of confidential information she dealt with in the ETSAB couldn't be completely sealed off. Like a leaky drum of magical waste, it leeched into her subconscious, inspiring and driving obsessions with the officially nonexistent.

She set the matter aside for the moment. She'd addressed the immediate crisis it had engendered, and now she needed to see why she was on active duty. A golden aura again lit her horn, but this one served a far different purpose. Rather than reshaping her body, this spell drew a line in the air in front of her, thin as a string on a lyre. With a thought, she plucked it. Naturally, the string vibrated, but rather than slow over time, it accelerated. Soon a glowing golden oval seemed to hang before her, the thread oscillating so fast that its entire path was visible at once.

"Agent Heartstrings, Universe Eight-Zero-Epsilon," she said into the oval. "I've just been activated and I don't know why. What's going on?"

The solid gold light altered, becoming a monochrome display of a face. It was Lyra's own, or it would have been had she been born a human. Its reply came in a voice identical to her own. "The Section Director is expecting a debriefing on yesterday's anomaly."

The unicorn facehoofed. Of course. She'd been so busy with making sure everything was still stable and secret that she'd never seen her superiors. "Sorry. Big doings. I'll be there at once."

Her human counterpart nodded. "See that you do. You know how she can get."

"All too well," noted the mare. "I'm on my way. Heartstrings out."

As the cosmic string faded, Lyra covered her tracks. Grabbing a quill and a junk flyer, she scrawled a quick note, then taped it to the basement door. She gave it a once-over.

Bonnie,
Doing research. I promise I'm not really trying to make a better transmutation. Feel free to come down, I'd love the chance to bounce ideas off of you.
XOXO,
Lyra

She nodded in satisfaction. The confectioner wouldn't even get near the door when the threat of "bouncing ideas" came into play. That settled, the unicorn fetched her lyre and entered the basement for the sake of her alibi. Once there, she began to play her way to her office.

The Department of Quantum Affairs often had unusual requirements for office space. Universe Five-Two-Beta met all of those needed by Lyra's subdivision: No native life, no morphic field restrictions, and the ability to support an infinite number of the same person at the same time. As such, the Office of Parallel Realities had essentially declared "dibs," sectioning off a sizable chunk of the dimension into actual offices, conference rooms, and other logistic necessities.

The dimension was sealed even to those few capable of moving between instances of Equestria, and the access codes were Commoner-level classified information. That is, they were public knowledge applied in a way that the public would never believe. This was, of course, the entire point. Lyra's code was officially known as Five-Two-Beta Rho-Lambda. She always thought it sounded like she got in because she belonged to a sorority, which she supposed was technically the case.

As she grinned at the old joke, she reached the point in the passcode that required vocal input. "We were at the beach..."

The unicorn materialized in a flare of golden energy. She blinked and noticed that she'd been expected. She normally appeared in the central hall of the facility, but instead she was before the desk of the human her she'd just spoken to. Lyra recognized her bipedal double as the Section Director's secretary. "Hi."

The woman gave a brief nod, Lyra to Lyra. "Go on in, she's expecting you."

The pony didn't waste any more time. She walked to the door behind the desk and knocked. Like her secretary, the Director was also human, for a loose definition of the term. As such, the door to her office bore one of those obnoxious round doorknobs, both nearly impossible to work with hooves and tricky for telekinesis. Knocking was probably going to be faster than casting the hooves-to-hands spell.

The Director opened the door, looked down, and smiled. "Lyra of Eight-Zero-Epsilon?"

The mare bowed, which doubled as a very deep nod. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Come in, my dear. I'm sure you have much to tell me."

Lyra couldn't help but admire the woman as she followed her into the room. Her hair, half dawn pink, half dusk blue, gyred and gimbled in the astral wabe. Her serene expression belied the storied past of one who had eaten the sun and moon like celestial truffles because she believed that the Equestrian people could do better. One who briefly took the place of their disempowered stewards. One who candy-striped the sky with the luminous linea, sources of illumination that needed no guidance, as a symbol of the self-reliance she wanted to inspire in every heart. One who so loved her people that she left them, trusting them to govern themselves better than any royalty ever could.

Amazingly, they did.

At first, the diarchs of the myriad other worlds feared that she would threaten their own hegemonies. But they sent diplomats rather than warriors, and she soon recognized that no other Equestria needed the revolution she had brought to hers, no pair of princesses as decadent and corrupt as those she had unseated. Instead, she offered her aid in keeping the countless citizens of those worlds safe.

Now, to assuage the grief and loneliness that were the cost of teaching an entire world independence, she surrounded herself with dozens of instances of her beloved. She was Bonbon Thronetaker, Preacher of the Bittersweet Truth, Princess by Her Own Hand, and Director of the Strings Section of the Office of Parallel Realities.

On occasion, some newly recruited Lyra (or Harpsy) expressed incredulity that every other version of her (or him) seemed to love the analogous Bonbon (or Babar.) The newbie's seniors would shake their heads, astonished that they needed to explain something as obvious as the concept of soulmates.

The Last Queen of Equestria gave her subordinate a knowing look. Lyra heard the door lock behind her and squirmed in anticipation. Princess Bonbon sank into what was now her throne, a black office chair like any other Section Director, and and the look began to smolder. "Let us begin."

"Ah!" Lyra's back arched in ecstasy.

Bonbon smiled, well pleased by the unicorn's reaction. "Well, Agent?"

The pony looked at her superior, confusion clear in a mind that, at the moment, was barely capable of coherent thought. "Huh?"

"I'm still waiting for your report."

"Buh-Bonnie..."

The human tsked. "Really now, Agent, I will not tolerate such an egregious breach of protocol." She demonstrated her displeasure physically.

Lyra's gasps spoke of an exquisite blend of pain and pleasure. "D-Director..."

"Apologize."

"I... I-Ah! Ah'm s'ry! Ah'm sorreeEEE!"

Bonbon nodded, satisfied. She returned to her more gentle ministrations. "Now, about that report."

Boneless and glassy eyed, the unicorn could barely form syllables. "C-can' do it."

"Oh, you can? Good. Please do."

"Can not," forced Lyra.

The abdicated princess pouted. "Oh, come now. At least try. For me?" She focused on an especially sensitive spot as she pleaded.

The mare bit her lip as her resistance crumbled. She gave a plea of her own. "Slower?"

Bonbon gave a sly smile. "Well, if you really can't focus, I could always just stop."

"Slower."

The human complied, easing back the tempo. "Now report."

Lyra trembled with pleasure and tried to gather her scattered thoughts. "With Agent Minuette a-and the Head of the Office of Maintenance on as-s-sssss..."

"Assignment?"

Not trusting herself with the sibilant, the unicorn simply nodded. "Given that, I h-had to maintain temporal continuity when Ditzy s-stopped time. After the magic elemental was suh-subdued, I recruited her as a c-consultant. Office of Extrap-planar Affairs."

"I see. And the state of the plane afterwards?"

"Harmony fixed any and all d-damage. Everything's fine. Just fine." The dreamy rise in tone on this last statement seemed more descriptive of the teller than the tale.

Bonbon beamed beatifically. "Excellent." She gave her agent one final brush, then kissed her on the tip of her horn. "You are dismissed, sweetie."

"Yes'm." Rubber-kneed, Lyra stumbled out of the office, much to her superior's amusement. Bonbon only used magic on the brush for an agent's first debriefing. From there, any added stimulation was all in the mind of the pony her lap.

Of course, the unicorn didn't know that, so she assumed her goofy grin was entirely the work of the deity. So did the secretary who glowered disapprovingly at her counterpart as she came into the reception area. "Have fun?" the assistant asked sardonically.

The pony leered at her human analogue. "Jealous?"

"Some of us are at least pretending to have an air of professionalism," huffed the ape-descended Lyra.

The mare smirked. "Yeah. I'm sure that's the standard outfit for professional human secretaries."

"Um, I..." The woman blushed as she tugged at one of her bikini's string-thin shoulder straps. "It's... it's Casual Friday."

"It's a Wednesday."

The human's face went the color of a ripe tomato, contrasting nicely with her hair. She suddenly found her crossword immensely fascinating. "Just... just go."

Mass Anthropomorphize 3U
Instant
Each non-Human creature becomes a 1/1 Human until end of turn.
"Opposable digits for everypony!"

Luna, See?

After a thousand years of madness and isolation, the dullest, most prosaic events are as manna from heaven. (Miraculous food, not magical energy. Note the double "n".) However, after months of overseeing the mundane minutae of the Night Court, Luna caught herself longing for airless silence and austere craterscapes.

This night, some nine months after Luna's purification, was proving especially arduous. As far as she could tell, the stallion Practical Problem had devised an ingenious device that had revolutionized wheat farming. His employer, one Corporate Ladder, claimed ownership of the invention and all revenue therefrom. Problem insisted that he had designed it in his own time. Ladder cited a vaguely worded contract more insidious than anything the denizens of Tartarus could scribe.

And so it went, save that the two earth stallions apparently had to hire other ponies to make their cases for them. Ladder was championed by Escape Clause, an unctuous unicorn who Luna distrusted the moment she saw him. On the other side, Ethical Problem spoke for his brother with a conviction at odds with his name. The two stood at tables placed before Luna's throne of silver and black granite, talking incessantly, trampling over one another's sentences, and pausing only to catch their breath.

Blessed deliverance came in the form of Trixie, who scampered in from a side door of the throne room. "Um, Your Highness?"

"Ahem." Escape Clause drew himself up into an indignant heap of self-importance. "This is most irregular. I move that this mare be removed from the courtroom or—"

"She is Princess." Ethical Problem smirked. "Ah'm sure she's got more t' worry about 'n this li'l spat."

"Nevertheless, we must observe proper court protocol, or this entire trial will be naught but a farce."

"It'd already be a farce if it was any funny!" spat Ethical.

Escape sneered. "Well find me a cream pie and I'm sure I can meet your high standards."

The room went silent. Everypony stared at the unicorn, expressions ranging from the Problem brothers' baleful glares to Luna's quirked eyebrow to Corporate Ladder's naked horror.

"Ah'm gonna put that down t' ignorance," Ethical said slowly, "but next time Ah'll be treatin' it as threatenin' assault."

Whatever Escape Clause thought of this was cut off by Luna. "ORDER!" She slammed her hoof against the arm of her throne, neither needing nor wanting a gavel. "We have been appraised of new information, and thus We shall dispense Our judgement!"

All four stallions boggled at the news. Escape Clause recovered first. "B-but, Your Highness! We haven't even moved to closing arguments!"

Luna smirked. "Oh, but we have. Hear ye the only closing argument that matters: Ours."

Escape could feel protocol, precedent, and years of legal experience fall out from under him, along with the bottom of his stomach. "But," he sputtered, "but you can't do that!" He covered his mouth, wide-eyed and trembling.

The princess's grin only grew. "If We could not, thou wouldst not have asked Us to judge this dispute." She turned to Clause's client. "Corporate Ladder. Thou hast the dignity of a jackal, the tact of a rhinocerous, the morals of a cat, the—"

"Princess!" hissed Trixie. "Modern diction! I don't think he knows he's being insulted."

Luna blinked. "Truly?" she murmured. "How would you put it, my student?"

Trixie told her. The moon princess nodded and smiled. "Elegant in beauty and message alike. Very well!" The last two words were said at full blast, throwing Trixie back a few feet and making the stallions jump. "Corporate Ladder, thou art a greedy oaf who hast likely spent more in legal fees than thou wouldst have earned in royalties. Thou hast no more ownership of aught thy employee creates in his own time than my sister does her pet's plumage. We find in favor of the defendant." Again she slammed her hoof. "Dismissed!"

"Wha..." Corporate Ladder stood stunned for a moment, but soon grew livid with rage. "Why you disrespectful—"

Escape Clause put a leg over his client's withers. "Mr. Ladder, may I advise you—"

Corporate shrugged it off and stalked towards the throne. "Nopony talks to me like that! I could buy and sell this whole crummy palace ten times over! Who in Tartarus do you think you are?"

The other ponies in the room, their self-preservation stronger than their egos, tensed. Escape Clause crept away from the expected blast radius as quickly as he dared, which wasn't very. All braced themselves to witness the wages of mortal hubris, to feel divine wrath crash down like a meteor storm, to hear the invocation of honors and titles long forgotten to the birds of the sky and the beasts of the land.

Instead, Luna gave a small smile and a pleased "I am on break." With that, she vanished in a flash of negative brightness.

Witching Hour, Champion of the Moon and bailiff of the Night Court, stirred himself from the throne's left hoof and began herding out the petitioners. "All right, folks. Show's over. Nothing more to see." He backed up his words with a slowly advancing wall of force.

"You think that's it?" railed Corporate Ladder. "I'll sue for libel! Corruption! Emotional damage!" Froth flew from his lips as he pressed his muzzle against the barrier. "I'll bankrupt this whole damn country if I have to!"

Escape Clause tried his best to drown out the ongoing rant. "My client is speaking while in a state of extreme passion and bears no ill will towards either diarch or the government of Equestria as a whole. Any comments he makes are—"

The doors slammed in their faces. Witching Hour wiped his brow. "Ugh. Worse than barnacles." He blinked as he realized the population of the room was still twice what he expected. He nodded at the Problem brothers. "Huh. Still here, then?"

Practical smirked. "Y' didn't fill th' room. We jus' walked t' th' side."

Witching gave his own smirk. "You're the first ponies to notice. I'm sure you can figure out why."

"Well, if that barrier's airtight, y'd be pushin' all th' air in that part o' th' room, which'd be quite a load." Practical's expression softened to a grin. "Also, Ah reckon y' wanted t' see if anypony'd notice."

Trixie rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes, pistons and samoflanges and such. Why are you still here? Her Highness is long gone."

"An' you'd be?" asked Ethical.

"Trixie Hobbitses, Princess Luna's personal student." Trixie shamelessly puffed out her chest. She'd earned this pride.

Practical considered the vacant silver throne. "So she ain't jus' invisible?"

Trixie shook her head. "No, that was a teleport. And a big one at that."

"How can y' tell?"

"Um..." Trixie could almost feel her ego deflate. "I'm... not sure if I can explain to a non-unicorn." She held up a hoof. "Not because of any tribalist horseapples! There's just some feelings I don't really have words for."

Practical snorted. "Ah've studied magical theory, an' it ain't near as complicated as what me or my brother do fer a livin'. Try yer best, filly. We'll fill in the blanks."

"You'll fill in the blanks," countered Ethical. "Ah know when Ah'm outta mah jurisdiction."

"Well, okay. Let me just organize my thoughts a little." Trixie sat and pondered for a brief time. "Okay, so a teleport works by making a sort of tunnel between two points and going through it before it collapses."

"A wormhole. Or a Gedankenexperiment-Rosehips Bridge, if'n y' wanna get technical." Practical pursed his lips in thought. "Now, there's bound t' be some kinda ætheric distortion as that thing closes back up. Ah'm guessin' yer horn lets ya feel it?"

Trixie nodded. "Exactly. It's like a tug in the direction the pony went. More distance makes a stronger pull."

"So how strong was this'n?"

"It..." Trixie faltered. After a few false starts, she shook her head. "See, this is the part I wasn't sure I could explain. It was like... like something was trying to use my horn as a drinking straw to suck out my brain."

Ethical gave a low whistle. "An' how far'd the princess have t' go fer a feelin' like that?"

"Several dozen miles." Trixie looked at the ceiling. "Straight up."

Luna smiled, the wind whipping through her coat, her astral mane and tail streaming above her as they yielded to more mundane winds. There was something incredibly relaxing about freefall. The concerns of one pony, even a pony responsible for moving the moon, seemed far less pressing when that pony felt weightless.

Still, she hadn't sent herself into the thermosphere just to get a breath of fresh air. As Trixie had reminded her, the day of the vernal equinox had technically begun. This day, the night would yield majority to the day. And for the sovereign of the night, that meant a symbolic day of rest from midnight to midnight, the first Black Sabbath in a thousand years. Before Luna's return, Equestria had all but forgotten it, save for one.

Alas, Luna had still been reconciling the return and apparent reformation of her darker self when last summer had turned to autumn. Celestia would have to wait until next year for her noon-to-noon White Sabbath. Still, Tia had made it clear that after a millennium with none, one more year spent going without was a small price to pay for the opportunity's return and all it meant.

A familiar mental itch interrupted Luna's woolgathering. It was one she'd not felt for a long time. Half-buried memories unearthed themselves, scenes of droning, ominous chants reaching their climax as obsidian blades were raised high before plunging into—

Luna shook herself and forced down the feelings that came with the old recollection. Guilt and regret would do her no good unless she actually did something with them, something to repent for their source. She looked down upon the living tapestry of Equestria, trying to track the tickle to its source. Neigh, sources.

At first, Luna thought the strongest pull came from Canterlot itself. She frowned, dread and indignity welling up in her breast. The city was so old, so complex, so built upon itself that the only sure way to deal with the problem would be orbital bombardment.

Thankfully, further descent saw the signal shift. Luna's destination was not the Canterhorn, but close by in the Everfree Forest. She made the slightest of wing movements, steering herself towards the wood. She couldn't help but smile as air began to burn around her. The light of her descent would make a fine banneret, announcing her approach with a flag of fire.

A shooting star blazed above the clearing, matching the zeal of the robed ponies gathered there. Only the light of a solitary torch dared stand before the countless stars and waxing moon. Though the cultists stood in three orderly rows, the area buzzed with their barely restrained anticipation.

Sinister Will smiled, the torchlight giving his features a fiendish cast. "Tonight, brethren," he called, "tonight the true queen of Equestria will reclaim her rightful throne. Tonight, the last desperate ploy of the Sun Tyrant will collapse around her! For months, our queen has been feigning obeisance to her depraved sister. In her foolishness, Celestia has given our queen her full trust.

"Now the Black Sabbath, spoken of only in the most ancient texts, is upon us. Now the Nightmare shall once more slip her bonds, and then she shall slip within our midst, that she might smite the mares who dared to stand against her. They will learn the consequences of hubris!"

This was met with cheers, stomps, and ebullient whinnies, but these were silenced when Sinister Will raised a hoof. "But," he intoned, "she will need our aid." He let that stew in the herd for a moment. Us? What can we do? How could we help?

"The Nightmare knows the hated Bearers' hearts and minds and souls. Carefully has she watched them in the realm of dreams. But she does not know where they live." Sinister's hoof emerged from beneath his robe once more, this time with his fetlock wrapped around a wicked knife. He waved it wide, wild arcs as he continued. "We do, my brethren! We can strike at them for our queen! We can sever the link between their sleeping minds and their helpless bodies, and then they will be the Nightmare's playthings for all time!"

Whoops and cheers surged through his audience. Sinister Will soaked it in. The enthusiasm. The exultation. The love.

Crnch crnch crnch crnch

The crunching? That wasn't right. "Who's making that infernal crunching?"

"Sorry, that'd be me." Everypony froze. All but Sinister turned around. "I'm afraid I don't have enough for everypony." A shiver went down every spine. All of the robed ponies had been there for that fateful Summer Sun Celebration. They had not, could not forget that voice. "Also," it added, "did you mean 'infernal' in a positive or negative sense? Just so we're clear on your attitude towards Tartarus."

Cultists backed away from the speaker. There, with dragon's eyes, in soulsteel clad, sat Nightmare Moon. She levitated another kernel of popcorn out of the bag and into her mouth, then smiled. A bit of her snack had gotten stuck between her fangs. Spake the Requiem of Sanity: "Hi."

Sinister Will's pupils shrunk to pinpricks. "Ni-ni-ni-ni-ni-ni-ni..."

A rather literal-minded mare who had restyled herself Cool Name pondered the bag. "Where did you get the popcorn, my queen?"

"Laughter magic." The black beauty smiled. "You wouldn't think it, looking at her now, but a thousand years ago, Celestia was quite the stuffed shirt." She lifted a few more kernels before adding, "Not that we wore shirts, but you get the idea."

Sinister managed to collect himself. "But Harmony is a false and blasphemous power before the Nightmare!"

Nightmare Moon's smile waned to a crescent grin. "Silly me, then." Her words had an edge just as thin. "I guess I spent a millennium in the moon for nothing."

Sinister Will's mind raced with the speed and creativity of a born theologian. "Impostor!" His voice burned with righteous indignation. "You dare mock us with such an obvious illusion?"

The Void Queen's smile disappeared entirely. She spread her wings, leapt two feet into the air, and hovered, her wingbeats were slow and steady. "Oh dear," she deadpanned. "However could I have thought you would be so gullible? Oh foalish, foalish me." The breeze from her flapping ruffled the hems of the cultists' robes.

"Then... you.. she..." The fire drained out of Sinister's voice as he sank to his knees. "You're really here?"

The Nightmare rolled her eyes. "Are you always this surprised when somepony answers your invitation?"

Another mare edged alongside the shaken stallion. "Cinnamon," she said gently, "I think it's time to admit that you're not a prophet of Nightmare Moon."

"Cinnamon?" echoed another cultist. "Cinnamon Swirl? That weedy colt who works at the ice cream parlor?"

At that point, something important in Sinister Cinnamon's mental clockwork went "ping" and flew off into a corner of the metaphorical room. He turned bloodshot eyes to his fillyfriend, screamed, and raised the dagger still clutched in his fetlock. It sliced through the air, plunging towards—

"NEIGH." A cloud of midnight blue magic encased maniac's hoof, making it as immovable as a mountain. Those ponies standing between Nightmare Moon and Cinnamon Swirl bolted out of the way. "NEIGH," the alicorn repeated, her voice amplified not with mundane volume but terrible purpose as she approached the offender.

Throughout Equestria and around the world, ponies and other creatures who swore by a slit, turquoise eye paused in their lives. Sleepers found their dreams interrupted by the object of their worship. The waking were caught in a trance, held so still that even gravity looked the other way. None who held the Nightmare in their heart were spared. None would forget her words.

"NOT ON THIS NIGHT, NOR ON ANY NIGHT HENCE. NEVER AGAIN WILL BLOOD BE SPILLED IN OUR NAME. ALL THOSE WHO WOULD CURRY OUR FAVOR WITH SUCH ACTS INSTEAD INVITE OUR WRATH."

For most, the dream ended there. Sleepers returned to their own dreamscapes. The waking resumed their lives as though no time had passed, though those whose trances were witnessed would find their lives much more interesting in the near future.

Cinnamon Swirl was not so lucky. Nightmare Moon stood but a step away from him. He thrashed in panic, trying to distance himself from her, but held fast by his own hoof.

The Nightmare waited as the stallion wilted under her incandescent gaze. Blind animal panic curled in on itself, becoming quiet, juvenile terror. Those eyes, shining with cold starlight, held neither hatred nor mercy. They were as utterly, terribly indifferent as the universe itself, offering nothing, promising nothing, forgiving nothing.

"GO," spake the alicorn, "AND TELL THY NOISOME PROGENITRIX THAT HER BROOD FEEDS HERE ONLY AT OUR SUFFERANCE."

A burst of green flame, and a chitinous horror stood in place of Cinnamon Swirl. It flew away as fast as its tattered wings could take it.

Silence reigned in the glen, but only for a moment.

"What did you do to my Cinnamon!?"

It should have been absurd. A little unicorn glaring up at the Mare in the Moon. Yet the onlookers scarcely dared to breathe.

The Foal-Gobbler shrank, her coat lightening, her eyes shifting, her regalia transmuting. Luna enveloped her challenger in a hug of regal proportions. "Forgive me, my little pony. That aberration was naught but a leech, feeding on your love."

"But... but then where's... Is he...?"

"If there was a place the creature told you never to go, go there. If not, hope that there never was a Cinnamon Swirl, that the beast wove him whole cloth from your desires."

Luna's head darted up. "And where do you all think you're going?"

Some of the retreating ponies froze at this. Some bolted, only to find that the clearing now stood within a cylinder of yielding but impassable force.

Luna released the distraught mare. "Fear not, good ponies, for though I wax wroth, it is not with you. The changeling manipulated you, as they are wont. It fed on the hope in your hearts and sought to leave hatred in its place, hoping to shape you all into a weapon of assassination." She met their horrified expressions with a solemn stare. "Or did you think it would be harmless to 'sever the link between sleeping mind and helpless body'?"

One mare fell to her knees. "I didn't want to hurt anypony." Once they began, the words tumbled out of her. "I didn't want to hurt anypony! I swear to you, Princess! I just wanted to belong to something! I'm not a bad pony!" Her rant halted as she felt a soft warmth settle over her. She looked up and saw Luna's smiling face from beneath her dusky wing.

"No," said Luna, "you aren't." She looked about the clearing. "None of you are bad ponies. You were lonely, frustrated, jealous of those who seemed undeserving of their great fortune, but not bad. And now? Look around you, my ponies. You have found others like yourselves. This night, you stood united in purpose, of one mind, one heart, one soul. If that is not friendship, I ask you, what is?"

She rose, urging the other mare to her hooves with her muzzle as a mother would her foal. Luna beamed. "Come with me, everypony. I will guide you to your homes. Come the morrow, your new lives begin. Not as lonely souls or a parasite's thralls, but as befriender and befriended. If such power even brought me back from the deep darkness, then you have nothing to fear."

The walls of Luna's royal suite were of her own design, a thick, symmetrical composite of many materials and magics that could withstand almost any assault imaginable. The door did not exist in the usual sense; one needed permission from the moon princess to enter her sanctum, at which point one could walk through any point in the walls. However, such permission was not given lightly, and was rescinded soon after it was granted. The only windows were illusions, the ventilation shafts narrow and lined with spikes.

All in all, it was nearly enough to block out Luna's snores.

"And she's been sleeping since she got back?" asked Trixie.

Celestia nodded. "And that was around four in the morning. I was just waking up. She poked her head in my room, told me good night, and five minutes later, her little bunker was sealed up tight."

"And here we are, some thirteen hours later." Trixie frowned. "She's going to sleep through the whole Sabbath. I know it's a day of rest, but this wasn't how she planned on spending it. Not from what she told me."

"Well, whatever brought it on must have been important. I could feel how much magic she was using." Celestia sighed. "She still hasn't fully recovered. She's insisted otherwise ever since her mane was full of stars again, but..."

Trixie bit her lip. "May I speak freely, Your Highness?"

Celestia nodded. "I extend the same courtesies to you as to my student, Trixie. Just because Twilight insists on speaking formally with me doesn't mean you have to."

"Whatever you're thinking of doing, even if you're telling yourself it's for Luna's own good, don't. Whatever she did, it needed doing."

"Oh? Are you certain, Trixie?"

A voice echoed in the unicorn's mind still. Trixie held no special love for the Nightmare, for she knew it was just a part of Luna. Luna, who had given her everything when she had nothing. Trixie looked Princess Celestia in the eye and said, "I'm certain."

Celestia smiled and dipped her head. "Then I defer to you on the matter. Thank you, Trixie."

"For what?"

"My sister and I always watched each other's backs, but we have each been the other's blind spot." The smile widened, and Celestia gave a little laugh. "It would seem our students are quite skilled in rectifying such oversights."

Trixie pondered this for a moment. "There's probably a friendship lesson in there somewhere. Want me to take a letter for Twilight Sparkle?"

And then the sun laughed long and loud.

Somnipresence 4UU
Sorcery
Draw a card for each tapped creature on the battlefield.
To dream is to enter Luna's realm, and she knows all her subjects well.

Author's Note

I even have cults! Do you have any idea how much fun it is to have a cult dedicated to you? It's like having the most adorable fan club filled with ponies who will do anything if they think it will make you happy!

—Nightmare Moon

This story's rough draft was in a notebook that had been missing for more than a year until I found it a few days ago. Turns out it was in the basement. :derpytongue2:
So, yeah, this would take place roughly around "Winter Wrap-Up." I freely admit the chronology is several kinds of snarled here, but it's not like Season 1 was a perfectly linear sequence going from cause to effect.
Seeing how much has been Jossed in canon since this was written was fascinating. Well, as Lyra can attest, that's what alternates universe are for.

Also, I couldn't think of a good ponification of "Einstein," so I applied a little lateral thinking.

Spectrometer of Worlds

"Pinkie?"

The party pony looked up from the cupcakes she was frosting. "Oh, hi, Ditzy! What's up?"

"Ever since the wedding, I've been thinking," began the pegasus. "I know the story behind Celestia and Luna, but what about Princess Cadance?"

Pinkie Pie nodded solemnly. Ditzy took a step back in case there was a delayed fuse. "Ah," said the earth mare, "you want to know about the Five Sisters."

"Do I?"

"Yup. It's an old story, almost forgotten. Barely even a myth anymore."

Ditzy smirked. "But you know it."

"Well, duh!" Pinkie exclaimed. "I was there!"

The pegasus nodded. "I thought you would've been. That's why I asked you."

Pinkie set down the icing bag. "You actually came at a really good time, you know."

"Why's that?"

"Oh," the party pony said offhoofedly, "once the new season premieres, it'll pretty much blow this out of the water in terms of canonicity."

Ditzy blinked. "What?"

"I said, 'I'm finished with the last batch of cupcakes and can take a break.' What's wrong, got stamps in your ears?"

"Oh. Okay. That's what I thought you said."

"Good. Come on, we'll talk in my room."

Once the planeswalkers were in private, Pinkie continued. "Anyway, it was just after Celestia and Luna had used the Elements of Harmony on Discord."

Ditzy scrunched her muzzle. "How long after the creation of ponies was that?"

Pinkie bit her lower lip and waved a forehoof uncertainly. "That's not as easy a question as you might think."

"Why not?"

"Well, you have to understand, all the weird stuff when Discord got out again? In terms of power and effort, that was basically him getting the cricks and the watsons and the holmeseses out of his neck. And I don't know if you've ever seen Discord, but trust me, that's a lot of neck."

Ditzy considered this. "So, the cotton candy clouds, the stilt-legged rabbits, the muffins that bit back... That was all a warmup?"

Pinkie nodded. "The Discordant Era was a lot worse."

"Well, not to put too fine a point on it, but why didn't you do anything about it?"

The pink mare shook her head. "I didn't dare. Remember, I was in the middle of one big time loop. Just because Equestria and ponies had been made didn't mean I was in the clear. The longer I stayed here, the more I risked doing something that could invalidate my own existence."

"But you showed up for these Five Sisters," noted Ditzy.

"Yeah, 'cause I got summoned." Pinkie adopted a distant look. "The few times me and Twilight and Dashie and everypony have used the Elements, I can feel something of Faust in there, supporting us, guiding the energies. She must have done the same when Celestia and Luna statutorialized Discord, 'cause afterwards they found the pendant I'd given him when me and Teferi left the plane for the first time."

"And they called you to help rebuild?"

Pinkie shook her head. "Nope. They didn't even know what it was. One of 'em might've poked it or something, but it activated spontaneously."

Ditzy's eyes bounced around their sockets as she tried to make sense of this. She soon gave in. "Wha?"

"Well, like I said," explained Pinkie, "the Discordant Era was a lot worse. Kind of my fault, too. See, I wanted to make entropy prefer the plane to nothingness, and I figured the best way to do that was a sense of humor. Nothing funny about the Blind Eternities."

This got a nod. "No kidding."

"But I didn't think about the repercussions. To be truly, intentionally funny, that take smarts, and a smart person's more likely to be curious. And, well, one of the few things more dangerous than a mix of boredom and omnipotence is a mix of curiosity and omnipotence. You start asking questions like, 'If I'm really omnipotent, what can't I do?' Then you try to answer them." Pinkie sighed. "The Discordant Era wasn't Discord being mean to ponies. That was a side effect. The Discordant Era was Discord stress-testing the universe. Time, space, causality, morality, everything was on the table."

Ditzy shuddered. "It sounds horrible."

"From what I've heard, it was." Pinkie gave an empty smile. "In any case, that's why a question like 'how long after ponies were made?' isn't easy to answer. It could've been a year, a millennium, or the smell of screaming purple."

The party pony took a deep breath. Her sagging curls bounced back to their usual vigor. "Anyway! It was right after Celestia and Luna beat Discord..."

The sisters stared, amazed at their work. Discord lay before them, the tyrant petrified midway through a boast about his inevitable victory. Already his influence was draining from the land. Little lengths of green had replaced the checkerboard pattern of the ground.

Luna sniffed at them cautiously. They seemed to be neither minty spun sugar or verdigrised copper teeth, her first two guesses.

"Grass," uttered Celestia. "It's grass."

Luna nudged a grass with a forehoof. It offered no resistance, showed no sign of retaliation. "What does it do?" she asked.

"It..." Celestia blinked. Her mind felt so strange now that she didn't have to force every thought through a yard of fog and custard. "I don't think it does anything. It just is."

Her sister considered this. "I... think I remember grass?" She wasn't sure. After so long under Discord's claw (How long? Had there even been a beginning?) her mind barely clung to sanity and sapience.

Celestia, an iota more stable, looked up. The sky was blue. That felt right. The sun hung above, a simple white sphere. The last time she'd seen it, it had been a violently lavender pretzel. "I... I made the sun." Yes. She had. She remembered it like her first meeting with her best friend. Who was her best friend? Oh, of course. Luna. Harmony wouldn't have worked otherwise. "And you made the moon."

"Did I?" The younger alicorn looked around dazedly. "Where is it now?"

"It's..." Memories raced through Celestia's head so quickly that she could scarcely keep up. "It's under the thing. Line. Edge." She waved a forehoof in the general direction of the whatsit.

A word came unbidden to Luna's tongue. "Horizon?"

"No. Maybe. Yes. Under the horizon. It's daytime. That's how it works. Day, then night, then day again."

Luna considered this. "Why?"

"Why not?"

"Okay." Celestial mechanics were hardly the most important thing the pair had to worry about. "Now what?"

"I, um..." Celestia's mouth worked silently as she pondered this. "I don't know," she admitted.

"Okay, what happened?"

Both sisters jumped and turned to the source of the voice. It didn't sound like Discord's usual slick wheedling, but that meant nothing. The alicorns huddled together, horns glowing with magic and eyes bright with fear. "Who's there?" cried Celestia, dreading the answer.

A pink pony appeared out of nowhere. How? She had no horn. She floated in the air. How? She had no wings. Did the seal fail? The statue was still there, but had some lesser bit of Discord slipped out?

The mare frowned at the sisters' fright. "Girls, what's wrong?"

"Who are you?" shouted Luna.

"What are you?" added Celestia.

The pink mare landed and stepped closer. "Don't you recognize me?"

The alicorns shied back. "Stay away!" Celestia cried.

Pinkie looked around, soon finding Discord's petrified form. "Oh my gosh, Discy!" She turned back to her granddaughters and examined them more closely. Both nervous, disheveled, balanced on the knife's edge between fight and flight. In a word, chaotic. And lying at their feet, six gemstones that emanated an all-too familiar aura of order and tranquility.

The planeswalker put two and two and two together without even needing to do a Sleipnir impression. "Discord went rogue." It wasn't a question but a certainty.

"He... I... We..." Celestia's stammering halted as she tried to collect herself. "Yes?"

Pinkie sighed. "I should've known. They were made to balance each other. Without one, the other would eventually..." She shook her head. "Stupid. And now order and chaos are masterless."

"Who are you?" repeated Luna, less afraid now that nothing had changed shape since the stranger had appeared.

"You really don't remember?"

The alicorn gave Pinkie a blank look. "Remember what?"

"Guess not." The planeswalker sighed. "Well, I have some planar governors to replace. The new ones won't be nearly as powerful, but they'll get the job done. For a while, at least." She rose into the air like gravity had lost interest in her (which, until recently, was a plausible explanation.)

"Wait!" cried Celestia. Whoever this was, she seemed to have a sense of purpose, more than the white filly could claim. "What should we do?"

Pinkie despaired for a moment, shocked at what her son had done to his nieces. Well, at least that had an easy fix. "You were made to guide and protect the mortal ponies. Find them. Help them rebuild. Teach them and learn from them in turn."

A warmth filled each sister's breast. They felt, they knew this was right. They cantered off, slowed only by encounters with nearly forgotten wonders like trees, unflavored clouds, and long-term ontological stability.

Pinkie smiled, gladdened by the sight. Then she returned to business and a steady ascent. She couldn't just make a new incarnation of entropy any more than she could one of its absence. Discord and Lauren might be unable to do their jobs, but they still were. However, she could add something to stabilize the plane.

No. Better idea. Some things. Five of them, for preference. If it was good enough for the Multiverse, it was good enough for her.

Pinkie grinned as she left the planet's atmosphere. Yes, that was the ticket. The plane knew what it needed. It felt the gaps left by the twins who'd given it life and form. All Pinkie had to do was offer something to fill that void and Ungula would take care of the rest.

The planeswalker came to rest at the Lagrangian point between the sun and the planet. From here, she could see the gradual return of sanity to the world as a whole. Oh, Discord. Trying to fill the hole in his heart with endless chaos when what he wanted more than anything was someone to tell him, "No." No wonder the sisters won. He'd probably let them.

Pinkie pushed away the thought, closed her eyes, and concentrated. She drew upon millennia of wandering the planes, memories of the people she'd met, the places she'd seen, the things she'd done. Mana flowed across the Multiverse and into her hooves. She gave it almost no shape, only sorting the energy by color.

A chromatic constellation formed around the mare, five orbs of magic glowing and growing. With extra care, she forged tiny nuggets of energy, each with a different blend of four colors of mana, and deposited each at the center of the sphere that complimented it. That was a lesson from her daughter; the impurities would keep the sunlets stable and self-sustaining. Finally, Pinkie released her creations, giving them a push to get them going in their orbits around Celestia's sun.

Then, too exhausted even to maintain her physical form, the planeswalker's disembodied awareness drifted back to the planet and waited. Almost anywhere else, Pinkie would've feared for her life; she was so weak that another planeswalker could snuff out her existence with little more than a thought. However, this was her personal universe, one known only to her and two people who she knew she could trust. Here, she could recuperate without fear.

The new planets added life to the night sky as Luna relearned how to control and ornament it. The introduction of so much magical energy shifted the world's leylines, still pliable from Discord's careless reign. Like supernatural tectonic drift, the planet's geomancy shifted into a new, more auspicious arrangement. Pinkie followed these shifts as she regained her strength, watching and waiting.

A year and a day later, her patience paid off. Five lines of force converged at a single point. The site erupted as it failed to contain the sheer power of the new arcane nexus. An incandescent pillar of light rose from the cataclysm. Waves of mystic power rippled across the land, the seismic equivalent of a sonic rainboom. The air echoed with the songs of angels and the screams of demons, both of which show up in even the most agnostically designed universes.

When the sound and fury finally faded, there stood a mountain that was nearly a world in and of itself. The peak's sheer mass caused the crust of the planet to dimple slightly, creating a ring of wetland around its foot. Forests crawled up the slopes like moss on a rock, refusing to hold truck with any "timber line" nonsense. Above them waved fields of hardy grass, advance scouts for the trees, turning barren stone into rich soil. Further up were the young, barren crags that had not yet known erosion and were still tall and jagged and proud. And at the peak was a stranded iceberg, shimmering in the sunlight.

And, on the very top of that glacial capstone, there stood a pink mare and five horned, winged foals.

"Well," said Pinkie, clearly pleased with herself, "that's one way to make an entrance." She shaded her eyes and surveyed the horizon. "Now, they should be about... there!"

It was the work of a moment to transpose herself from the top of the newly raised Canterhorn to her granddaughters' flight paths. A year and a day spent discorporate did wonders for the mana reserves. "Hi, girls!"

Doing a double take in midair always carries an element of risk. When moving at near-sonic speeds, it can be fatal. Fortunately, the alicorn body is more than capable of shrugging off forces that would pulverize mortal bones, so Celestia and Luna were able to stop and boggle at the incongruous earth pony without killing themselves. Luna spoke first. "Who—"

"Not important!" cried Pinkie. She produced the five still-sleeping bundles of deific joy seemingly out of nowhere. "They are."

The younger sister gasped as she took in the infants' horns and wings. Celestia remained outwardly calm. "And who are they?"

The party pony parodied the princess's poker face. "Your cousins," she answered in a voice so flat it could take the bubbles out of champagne from a hundred yards.

That broke the elder alicorn's composure. "What? How?"

"Why should we believe you?" demanded Luna.

"Well, I guess you don't have to," admitted Pinkie. "At least, if you want to refuse the only actual family you have." She knew it was a low blow, but they needed to accept the newborns. She couldn't risk the alternative.

Luna glared at her. "And how would you know that?"

Pinkie decided to try a different tack. Well, more of a nail. Stuck in a club. "Did you know you're immortal? That's really gonna suck in the long run without somepony else to provide continuity."

The blue alicorn brought herself muzzle-to-muzzle with the impossible mare. "You seem to know an awful lot about us for somepony whose identity isn't important. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't—"

"Luna." With one word, Celestia brought her sister to heel. "Whoever she is, she knows more about our kind than we do. She comes bearing foals that would more than triple our number. Our ponies need a symbol of hope, of plenty. We have no reason to distrust her."

"We have every reason to distrust her!" Luna shouted. "She refuses to answer any question that she dislikes! She has all the answers we've been looking for and she won't give them to us!"

"What's the point if you don't find out for yourself?" asked Pinkie.

The sisters' argument stopped almost before it got started. The mystery mare, they realized, was still right in front of them. She could hear every word they were saying. Luna idly kicked a forehoof. "My apologies."

"And mine," added Celestia. "We... That is, at times..." She sighed. "Discord leaves scars on us all, the worst hidden from sight."

Pinkie nodded. "I understand. I swear I'm telling you as much of the truth as I can."

Luna cast a skeptical eye on her. "And on what do you swear?"

The planeswalker considered this for a moment. A Pinkie Pie Promise probably wouldn't fly with Little Miss Moonbutt McSkepticpants... unless it was a Pinkie Pie Promise Classic. "My heart and my hooves, my spells and my soul. I swear on my friends, every colt, mare, and foal. I swear on my sisters, my father, my mother, on all I hold dear, in this world and others."

Luna took this in for a moment. Her answer was carefully scrubbed of emotion. "Go on."

Pinkie did so. "You know those things around the sun that showed up just after you stoned Discord?"

The sisters nodded. Luna blinked, then squinted, analyzing Pinkie even more closely than before.

"They're acting to help maintain the balance of the universe and make sure the whole kit and caboodle doesn't go kaput."

"Then why did they only show up a year ago?" asked Celestia.

"The universe seemed pretty damn imbalanced before then," Luna noted.

Pinkie nodded. "It was. Discord was supposed to act as one end of that balance, but his opposite number... well, it's complicated."

"Try us," said Luna.

The planeswalker vacillated. How much should she say? How much could she say? "Well kids, you basically used your mom's comatose body to petrify your grief-stricken uncle. Great job!" Yeah, not happening. She decided to take it step by step. "She was your mother."

Celestia's expression would make kicked puppies feel guilty. "Was?"

"She's not gone for good," Pinkie added hastily, "no more than Discord is. She's just... resting."

"Where?" demanded Luna.

"I don't know." Technically true. She didn't know where they'd put the Elements.

"If Mother isn't gone," said Celestia, dread building in her voice, "then could Discord return as well?"

Pinkie shook her head. "As long as you two stay attuned to the Elements of Harmony, the seal will be maintained." And really, she thought, what could disrupt that connection?

"If these are our cousins," said Luna, "then our mother had siblings, didn't she?" She frowned. "Come to think of it, what about our father?"

"Your cousins are avatars of the new planets," Pinkie explained. "Those, in turn, were created by the same entity who created your mother. As for your father..." She shrugged. "I wasn't exactly there for the conception."

Celestia smiled knowingly. "Were you there for the birth, Grandmother?"

In the time before the Mending, a planeswalker's body was an extension of her will, a physical pretension adopted by a transcendent being to condescend to organic life's level. As such, Pinkie's expression showed no involuntary twitches or tells, no autonomic betrayals. She just smiled and shook her head as her heart broke anew. "Good guess, kid, but you're off the mark."

"Oh?" Luna frowned in concentration. "Just after we beat Discord, I... It's hazy, but I definitely remember... pink."

The pink pony hesitated for a split second. In a decade, it would be as obvious as an exploding polygraph to the sisters. Now, they lacked the political acumen to pick up on it. "I didn't say you weren't close," said Pinkie, hastily assembling a new story. "Think of me as your godmother."

"Uh huh." Celestia clearly didn't buy it for a second. Still, she had the grace to let the matter rest. Her attention turned back to the infants. "What are their names?"

"Dunno," Pinkie admitted. "You two knew yours by the time I met you."

"But they'll keep the universe stable?" asked Luna.

Pinkie nodded. "Them, and their parents."

"And they'll live forever?" Celestia shivered as eternity loomed before her. "As will we?"

"You two? Definitely. As for them, well, they'll live until they die."

Luna smirked. "That's generally the case, yes."

Pinkie shook her head. "I mean they won't die of old age or hunger or just about any disease, but they will if they get hurt enough."

"Then we'll have to keep them safe, for the sake of everything," declared Celestia.

"Well, yes and no," answered Pinkie. "As long as at least one's still okay, the uneven balance will cause the rest to reincarnate." She frowned. "Er, I think."

Luna gave her an incredulous look. "You think?"

"Well, you never know. Semistable equilibria might form with fewer than all five, the mechanism of power transfer might work differently, there's ambiguity if some go rogue while others don't..." Pinkie shrugged. "When dealing with magic of this magnitude, it's a crapshoot at best."

"Not that you would know," snarked the moon pony.

"Oh, I deal with this kind of stuff on a regular basis," answered Pinkie, "I just didn't do this one." Not directly, anyway.

Celestia took the foals in magical tow. "Well, I suppose we'll just have to see what happens." She nodded to Pinkie. "Thank you... Godmother."

"Oh, by the way," added Luna, "just an afterthought, idle curiosity, really, but what's the story with the enormous mountain that wasn't there an hour ago?"

Celestia looked at the peak in question. "Oh, right. That."

"Yeah, the reason we came here in the first place." Luna glared a challenge at Pinkie. "Care to explain that one, 'Godmother'?"

"Side effect of your cousins coming into existence," the party pony said nonchalantly. "Looks nice, though. Might be a good site for a city."

Before either sister could respond, she enveloped them in a wide hug. "Thank you, girls. I know you'll do a great job."

"With what, exactly?" asked Celestia.

"Being you." Before either alicorn could ask for clarification, Pinkie 'walked away.

"When I hugged them, I slipped a little mind bug into each of their heads," said Pinkie. "It worked slowly, blurring their memories of me and encouraging them to make up new ones." She sighed. "It had to be done. No way Celestia would let her Granny Pie grow up on some dull ol' rock farm. If they remembered me, it would change history."

"And the Five Sisters?" prompted Ditzy.

"Well, turns out I was wrong about the reincarnation. When Cadence I gave—"

Ditzy frowned. "'Cadence eye'?"

Pinkie rolled her eyes. "When Cadence the First gave birth to a daughter – huge scandal at the time, they were supposed to be celibate, but Princess of Love, what're ya gonna do? Anyway, when she gave birth, it was to an alicorn. One that looked exactly like her. The others were... let's say 'encouraged' to have kids of their own, because more alicorns could only be a good thing, right?"

"Possibly," allowed the pegasus.

"Well, when all was said and done, they all had sons, there were one horn and four wings between them, and nopony had both. They'd go on to found the various noble houses, which would eventually lead to the likes of Prince Blueblood." Pinkie smirked. "So you can see how good an idea that turned out to be."

Ditzy held back a grin of her own. "Why was Cadence different?"

"Well, that didn't become clear until Cadence II came of age. Her cutie mark turned out to be identical to her mother's, and her mother started feeling her age."

The pegasus gulped. "How old was she by then?"

Pinkie bowed her head. "About three hundred. She passed on a few days later. They say that the moment she died, she crumbled to dust."

Ditzy frowned as realization struck. "Wait. How do you know this anyway?"

The party pony gave her a quizzical look. "What do you mean? I thought you came to me because I'd been there."

"Well, yeah," admitted Ditzy, "for the big dramatic world-building stuff, not for the courtly history. Three hundred years after Discord would be about five and a half thousand years ago." She frowned. "Which... actually doesn't mesh at all with the chronology of your life, thinking about it."

Pinkie shrugged. "Like I said, Discy used spacetime as his own personal trampoline. The plane's temporal flow was wonky until the Mending, and that was only about a decade ago."

"Fair enough," Ditzy conceded, "but that still doesn't explain how you know about this stuff. I think the princesses would notice a pink courtier who never seemed to age."

"Oh, that." Pinkie smiled. "Somepony had to take care of Commodore Guff's library after he got eaten by Yawgmoth."

"Oh." Ditzy considered this. "So you own a library the size of a small universe."

"Uh huh."

"One that contains every book that was ever written, ever will be written, and ever might be written."

"Yuppy-duppy!"

Suppressed giggles began to leak through the pegasus's demeanor. "A-and you *snrk* never told Twilight?"

Pinkie looked from side to side, looking for any possible spies or probes. Satisfied with the room's secrecy, she whispered, "I told her she'd be getting a really great birthday present this year."

After a bout of laughter, Ditzy admitted, "It's probably better you haven't told her. We might never see her again."

"Oh, don't worry," Pinkie said confidently. "There's an orangutan who owes me a favor. He'll keep an eye on her."

Ditzy's better judgement shifted her train of thought away from this track and the penny lying thereon. "I think we've gotten a bit off-topic."

"Right. Anyway, shortly after they found a suitably tasteful urn, Cadence II said her mom had told her she was glad that she'd be taking her place." Pinkie paused, perceiving pluripotent perplexing pronoun potential. "Er, the mom told her daughter that—"

"I think I got it," Ditzy assured her. "So?"

"So, that was the key. For the Five Sisters, succession and abdication are inseparable. Only when they're tired of ruling will they produce their heirs. Er, heiresses."

"Huh." Ditzy pondered this for a moment. "So, which Cadence married Captain Armor?"

"Well, they don't use the generation thing officially, 'cause, y'know, royalty. They like to project that image of unchanging, eternal stability. Serious reaction formation from Discord's behavior, if you ask me." Pinkie nodded to herself, then paused and looked at the cigar in her hoof. "How'd that get there?"

"It formed out of your aura of ambient laughter magic," answered Ditzy.

"Oh. Okay, then. Anyway, the Cadences have kept up the tradition of high turnover. I think we're up to Cadence XL, give or take a few."

"'Cadence ecks-el' meaning 'Cadence the Fourtieth?'"

Pinkie nodded. "Precisely!"

Ditzy thought for a moment. "So who are the others? And where, for that matter?"

Pinkie gave a nervous chuckle. "Well, remember that Celestia's not very good at delegating, so there's never really been a lot for the Five Sisters to do, officially. Each has a role, but it's left to her how she defines it and what she does with it. So, they're kind of, well, scattered."

"So you don't know."

Pinkie grinned sheepishly. "More or less."

Ditzy wingshrugged. "Well, your freaky knowledge had to run out somewhere. Can you at least tell me their names?"

The baker smiled. "Now what fun would that be?" She patted her friend on the back. "If you really want to know, go check your local library. Or local librarian."

The pegasus considered this. Eventually, she nodded. "I think I will, actually. Among others."

Chromatic Convergence 3GWU
Sorcery
For each color, each player may put a permanent card of that color from his or her hand onto the battlefield.
The rainbow is a symbol of great power in Equestria, and for good reason.

Magical Lyrical Nougat Time

Four years before the return of Nightmare Moon

Ponyville. A sleepy little suburb of Canterlot. A peaceful, quiet town where the biggest excitement was the scramble to finish Winter Wrap-Up within a week of schedule. Despite the proximity to the Everfree Forest, nothing terribly exciting ever seemed to happen here.

"Not good, not good, not good!"

The sea-green unicorn charging through the main thoroughfare seemed not to have gotten that memo.

"It wasn't supposed to happen yet! We were supposed to be living together by then! She still thinks my posture is weird!" Thus did Lyra rant to herself as she ran like her tail was on fire. Instead, her horn was aglow, though there no evidence of magic at work. As she zeroed in on one of many small houses, she felt the need to make one last impassioned cry to the heavens. "She still thinks humans are as fictional as seaponies!" Now that that was out of her system, she felt mentally prepared to knock on the door. So she did.

A pale-yellow earth pony answered the knock. Her pink-and-purple mane matched her wrapped-candies cutie mark, and her look of confusion went nicely with with the unicorn's anxiety. "Lyra? What are you doing here?"

The words came tumbling out as thought they'd been dammed. "Bonbon, I'm sorry, I know this is really short notice, but I need you to come with me. Now."

A dozen different objections came to the confectioner's mind. As is frequently the case, the most inane one came out first. "But I have fudge in the oven."

Lyra gave an exasperated snort, then gathered her focus. For a moment, the glow around her horn grew so bright that the protrusion couldn't be seen within it. Then came a chime from the house's kitchen. "There," the musician said flatly, "now can we go?"

Bonbon looked behind herself in confusion. "Just... just a second." She trotted to the oven, whose timer had indeed hit zero. She turned the appliance off and returned to the front doorway, more perplexed than ever. "That batch had a good twenty minutes left. What did you do?"

"Time compression spell. Colgate taught me. Could we please get going?"

"What... Where... Why?" Satisfied with this question, Bonbon expanded upon it. "Why me?"

Her fillyfriend gave a sigh that, coming from a pony with a few more years under her saddle, might come off as world-weary. "That's the really fundamental question, isn't it? I know I've asked it enough." Lyra locked gazes with the other mare. "Look, I know this is going to sound horrendously cheesy, but ever since I first laid eyes on you, I knew that you would be an essential part of my destiny."

"What, I'm going to be the muse for some masterful harp concerto?"

"Okay, first? Lyre, not harp. Fine distinction, but an important one. Second? Special talent does not equal destiny, and there's deeper symbolism to the strings on my flank than we have time to get into. Third, I don't have time for fourth, because we need to sally fifth." Lyra paused, went back over the list, and nodded to herself.

Bonbon sighed and muttered something that sounded awfully like, "Why are the cute ones always crazy?" She then shrugged and resignedly said, "Okay, fine. Just... just why?"

The unicorn gestured at her still luminous horn. "This is my spacey-wacey detection spell. It goes 'dong' when there's things."

"Uh huh. And that means the two of us need to be wherever it goes 'dong' the most?"

"Basically."

The earth pony fought an urge to facehoof. Maybe it was that she preferred unicorns. Maybe pegasi were sane. "Why?"

"The full explanation would require quite a bit of advanced theoretical magic, a Pinkie Pie musical number, and that friend of Colgate's who runs the clock shop. The point is, by the time I explain everything to any degree of comprehensibility, it will be too late. I'm going to have to ask you to trust me on this. Please?" This last bit was punctuated with puppy-dog eyes that no fully grown pony should still be capable of.

Bonbon rolled her eyes. "Fine. Lead the way."

The look of relief those four words brought to Lyra's face was almost worth the headache that had led up to them. Almost. With a wide grin, the unicorn mused, "I'm so getting sued for this, but I don't care. ALLONS'Y!" With that, her head snapped backwards sickeningly, her horn apparently having remembered an appointment in the town's main square and not about to let the rest of her body make her late. As such, it began dragging the meatsack to which it was attached with astonishing speed. For her part, said meatsack adjusted herself so that she was moving on leg power as well, and so she didn't dislocate something en route.

As Bonbon galloped after the hybrid-drive pony, she shouted, "I didn't know you spoke Prench!"

The response had a slight Cloppler effect from sheer velocity. "Iiii doooon't!"

Outside of the Sugarcube Corner, Ditzy Doo was just as confused as Bonbon. This was hardly her first time in a ground-town, but it was the first time she'd been in one populated by ponies. Furthermore, it was her first social interaction with her own species in six years, not counting the brouhaha her sudden return had whipped up. As such, she was racking her brain, trying to recall whether it was normal for earth ponies to gasp like an inhaling dragon upon seeing a pegasus. Maybe it was a new fad?

In any case, after narrowly averting two ruptured lungs, the pink dervish had insisted she "Wait right there!" before zooming into what was hopefully a bakery. If not, Ditzy would have to be sure to find out who'd built it, so she knew whose work to avoid. As she waited, the cross-eyed mare couldn't help but savor the irony that, out of the last half dozen planes she'd been on, she felt the most awkward and out of place on the one where she'd been born.

"Oh good, you're still here!" The bundle of energy reemerged from the building, bouncing like there were springs in her hooves.

"Yes. Yes I am." The blonde took a cautious step back. This pony was reminding her of a goblin with explosives: Excited and probably a danger to herself and everyone else. "What am I waiting for again?"

Pinkie Pie narrowed her eyes and gave a positively bowel-loosening smile. "Oh, you'll see..."

Ditzy swallowed nervously. "I-if you say soOOOH HOLY AVACYN!" As a unicorn practically rocketed towards her, the planeswalker realized both that she'd reflexively taken to the air and that she'd invoked the wrong deity. "I mean Asha! Serra! Celestia!" She sank with her spirits and, as she landed, hung her head in sorrow. "Dang it..."

Ponyville's self proclaimed one-pony welcoming committee gave her a reassuring pat on the back as she leaned in for a whisper. "Don't worry. I won't ask and they didn't hear."

The pegasus looked up at the kindhearted mare. "They?" Pinkie pointed, and Ditzy saw the earth pony retracing the unicorn's trajectory at a much more reasonable speed. "Oh."

Lyra chose this moment to look up from the sliding faceplant in which her horn-boosted sprint had ended. "Hello there, Lyra to Bonbon. I'm Ponyville and she's Welcome." Her brain then decided that now was a good time to take a break.

"Um... hi?" Ditzy looked to the more conscious newcomer. "I don't suppose you could tell me what's going on?"

She got a helpless shrug. "Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is that a certain unicorn," and here Bonbon gave a meaningful look to her significant other, "owes me some time compression magic next time I get a bulk order." She turned to her fellow confectioner. "Hi Pinkie. That pan of specialty rocky road fudge was finished a bit ahead of schedule. When would you like it?"

The party pony tilted her head curiously and replied, "Anytime that's convenient is fine." She then looked into the sky and squinted. Her head moved from side to side as though following a match of invisible pegasus tennis, and the occassional muttered phrase could be heard. "dozen different objections... grew so bright... more perplexed than ever... Ah!" She smiled upon the still prone unicorn. "You made sure her fudge wouldn't burn! No wonder you're her waifu."

Lyra's mind rushed back into the office to take this call. She looked up, still dazed but feeling more coherent. "That's about the fifth time you've told me that and I still don't understand what you mean."

"You'll see..." Pinkie singsonged. Or possibly sangsung.

"Um..." Ditzy had decided that if she didn't get a word in edgewise by now, she'd be irrevocably lost in this conversation. "Does anypony know if there are any jobs currently available? That's really all I wanted to ask."

"Oh, sure," piped the pink pony. "The post office is so understaffed I think it's technically a wand. Head down Mane Street and it'll be the building with the blue sign with the white alicorn."

"Thanks. I'll, uh, get right on that." She began to slowly head in the indicated direction, not wanting to startle any of the crazy ponies.

"Hey, hold on!" Ditzy's knees locked as the unicorn called to her, then approached her. The green pony offered a small smile, as if acknowledging the high dose of ridiculousness the pegasus had just had to swallow. "I hope we didn't get off on the wrong hoof. I'm Lyra. Lyra Heartstrings."

The young grey mare returned the smile. Crazy as ponies could get, it was nice to be home. "Ditzy Doo." After a hoofshake, she set off again, far less concerned about madponies giving her the crazy disease.

Lyra entered her apartment with a sigh. Between the sudden activation, mending her nascent relationship, and convincing the town that she didn't need a new jacket with extra-long sleeves, it had a busy afternoon. The last thing she wanted was to look at another pony before tomorrow.

Naturally, there was another pony waiting at her coffee table, a blue unicorn mare blowing on a steaming teacup.

Colgate smiled. "So, how was your first day?" She sipped from her cup, then grimaced. "Find any tea worth drinking?"

Lyra scowled. "I thought you said I wasn't going to have a mission for years!" A beat. "And what's wrong with my tea?"

The blue mare shook her head. "If you have to ask, then I've clearly been remiss in your training. As for the mission? If you'll recall, at the time, I told you that it appeared most probable that you would be activated a few years thence." She shrugged. "As often happens in my department, times change." To underscore the point, she tried the tea again, on the off chance that it had become more palatable since the beginning of the paragraph. Alas, that wasn't the case.

"But... but you do time," noted Lyra. "I'm supposed to do space."

Colgate offered her a pitying smile. "You'll find that where you are in the Bureau has very little bearing on what you actually do. This isn't like the weather, Lyra. We don't just write out a schedule each week and carry it out as best the Everfree allows. For all the bureaucratic subdivision, time and space are inextricably intertwined. One cannot be manipulated without somehow effecting the other."

All joviality vanished from the elder agent. "If for some reason you thought this was a hobby you could pencil into your free time, Agent Heartstrings, I must inform you that you were mistaken. This is your job now. You may not be permitted to know that most of the time, but it is. While active, you are not a musician. You are not a young lover. You are not a pony. First and foremost, you are a member of the Bureau, a small but essential part of what ensures that everything doesn't all happen at once, and that it doesn't all happen to you. If you have a problem with that, you should not have accepted this position."

Lyra found herself split between terror and indignation. "But... but you never told me any of that!"

Colgate sighed. "I told you all of it and more. You chose not to hear me, just like everypony else. You're all made willingly deaf by the promise of adventure." She sneered, her words growing distant. "As if adventure were something desirable. Real adventure, not some tidy there and back again with a few stories for the grandfoals and something shiny to put over the mantle. Especially not for those of us with a dozen extra lives to burn..."

"Colgate?"

The mask dropped. For a moment, a terrible thing stared back at Lyra. It was no eldritch monstrosity from beyond imagination. It was simply a pony who had gone too far, seen too much, lived too long. A pony who knew that there was naught but more of the same ahead of her. "I am Lieutenant Romana Minuette, alias Colgate Turner, deputy head of the Department of Causal Affairs. I have logged more than two hundred years subjective helping the universe pretend that it has some kind of sane, linear chronology." She sighed, the terror fading but the indefinable air of age still there. "And I don't want to see anypony else become the sort of bitter, dried-up old crone that I have."

Colgate found herself in an unexpected embrace. She smiled and leaned into Lyra's hug, feeling magic wipe at the tears. "Sorry, love. This job gets to you. At least you'll have somepony who can understand as you find your way."

Despite the dark diatribe, Lyra found her hopes rising. "Bonnie?"

"Well, yes, but not just her, and not just in the ways you think." Colgate magically lifted a folded sheet of paper from her saddlebags. "Give that tune a go and you'll see what I mean."

She rose and stretched. "Thanks for the tea, love."

"I thought you hated the tea."

"Oh, it was dreadful stuff, but you don't drink somepony's tea without thanking them."

"Oh." Lyra bit her lip for a moment. "Colg– um, Lieutenant?"

"You can call me Colgate, dear. I was just feeling a bit sorry for myself there."

"Why does everypony from Causal Affairs sound like they're from Trottingham?"

This got a chuckle out of the deceptively youthful mare. "Blame the BBC for that one." She left before Lyra could inquire further.

Warp Spacetime 1GU
Instant
Return target nonland permanent to its owner's hand. You may put a land card in your hand onto the battlefield tapped.
"Time is just another direction to explore. Kindly do so elsewhen."
—Minuette, temporal operative

Author's Note

Backstory aside, this was inspired by the following thought: What if, among other things, every Lyra's job were to greet visitors from other realities while subtly making sure they weren't a danger to the world... or vice versa?

Quod Cucurbita

The first rule of time travel is, "When in the past, don't gawk at everything like a tourist in Haywaii."

Well, actually, the first rule of time travel is, "Don't time travel unless you absolutely have to." Then there's a bunch of other rules involving causal loops, paradoxes, and a general theme of ensuring that you don't accidentally make the universe implode. But the first rule that isn't punctuated with an unspoken "or you'll kill us all, you idiot" is the one about the gawking.

The reason I bring this up is because I had to keep reminding myself of it as I walked through Ponyville. It wasn't that the town was especially impressive, it was that it was all one big rush of nostalgia.

Oh, I should probably introduce myself, shouldn't I? You're probably not used to hearing about my particular Equestria in the first pony. You may not used to being directly addressed by Equestrians, come to think of it. Aunt Pinkie always says it's best to keep signs of explicit audience awareness to a minimum unless you're from that one splay with the megaspells, but you don't mind, do you?

...I guess you can't really answer that. Well, you can, but I certainly can't do anything with the answers. Not in any kind of reasonable time frame, in any case.

Where was I?

Oh, right, introductions. Sorry. I get sidetracked rather easily. Something of an occupational hazard. You've probably heard about me. I'm the fourth member of the Ponyville branch of the ETSAB. Space Division, Department of Quantum Affairs, Office of Ontological Ambiguity. Which, yes, is a thing that exists, though the budget committee has a tendency to forget.

My name is Pumpkin Spice Cake. I'm an ontolomancer.

You're probably asking three questions right now. Firstly, why would I open this little communiqué with rules of time travel if I'm from the Space Division? Well, as you likely know, in the temporal region of this Equestria with which you're most accustomed, I'm an infant, assuming that I've even been born. A filly still in diapers kicking flank and taking names may seem neat in theory, but it's not Bureau standard operating procedure. However, the rest of the branch is highly active in this time, and with good reason. This era will in time be known as the Concordant Eclipse, as the return of Princess Luna and the ascendance of the Avatars of Harmony—

Oh, wait. Spoilers. In any case, it's a very eventful time, and the Bureau isn't going to have let a little thing like temporal logistics (or verb tenses) keep one of its most promising agents (their words, not mine,) out of the action.

The second question is admittedly one you might not be asking or even care about, but I'm answering it as a matter of professional pride: what is ontolomancy?

Yes. That is to say, ontolomancy is the magic of what-ness, i.e., existence. I can make the false real and the real false. I can make truth and beauty solid enough to sit on or vanish so completely that I disappear from sight and memory alike.

Of course, this leads directly to the third question: where was I during the harmonic elemental incident? Surely, you reason, that was a prime example of the unreal acquiring a dangerous degree of reality. Why wasn't I dispatched to counteract the manifestation?

Well, it's more complicated than that. See, they weren't the only ones forming themselves at the time. I was, too. My mother was pregnant with Pound and me. Travelling to a point in time when you already exist is a touchy matter at best. Going to one when your body and soul are still gestating is just asking for trouble. Life-eradicating, universe-imploding trouble.

Anyway, Ponyville. Wandering. Nostalgia rush. Locally, it was a few weeks after I was born. Mom and Dad still had their hooves full with the new twins, so as long as I avoided the Sugarcube Corner, the odds of running into them, and by extension myself, were slim. (Not that that meeting would be disastrous. Just... awkward. What do you say to a pony who just changed your diaper?)

There was always the matter of Aunt Pinkie, but I had accounted for her as best I could. One can never be entirely certain with her, of course, but I did have some emergency contingencies. Ones devised by her, no less.

In any case, I managed to keep myself off Memory Lane enough to avoid stares. Well, most stares. A few were actually quite flattering, and others had the familiar quizzical look of somepony trying to divine the meaning of my cutie mark. I admit, it's not the most obvious or straightforward image to grace a flank, but that's only to be expected when your special talent is the magical manipulation of existence.

I soon reached my destination, though it took me a moment to recognize it as such. It was just so... small. The Ponyville Post Office should've been—

Oh. Spoilers again. Sorry, I'm still a bit wet behind the ears when it comes to time travel. This is only my third polyennial trip. Still, I'm going to spending a lot of time in this, er, time. I'd like to get to know my fellow agents as they are in this particular "now." Preferably after I get first impressions and professional introductions out of the way. Thankfully, that's one application of time travel that doesn't break the universe.

Anyway, I entered the Post Office, struck again by how tiny the place seemed. A familiar stallion stood behind the counter. He didn't smile, but as Aunt Pinkie might put it, he's never been the smiliest pony in the world. "Hello," he said. "Can I help you?"

"Mr. Address Unknown?" I knew it was him, but I had to ask. He'd never met me before.

He nodded warily. "And you would be?"

"Summer Squash," I lied smoothly. "I work with your wife semi-regularly." True, from the flexible temporal perspective needed in my line of work. "Is she in?"

He shook his head. "She's out walking the routes with some trainees. She should be back in an hour or two."

"I see. I'll come back then."

"Should I tell her you came by?"

I hesitated for a moment, then smiled. Address wouldn't normally make such an offer to somepony he just met. I must have made a good impression on him. "That would be lovely. Thank you."

I left the distinctly diminutive post office undaunted. Ditzy Doo wasn't the only agent in town, after all. With a minimum of looky-looing, I made my way to Starting Lane and a two-story house thereon. A sign with three candies hung above the door. This place, at least, felt familiar. Felt right. The memories of future caramels past played on my tongue as I walked in.

The earth pony behind the counter perked up as a bell announced my entry. "Welcome to Bonbon's. I'm Bonbon. How can I help you?"

I admit, I'm a young mare. In some ways, I'm still a filly. I was tempted. Oh sweet sisters, was I tempted. Exquisite hoofmade caramels that could turn a summer afternoon into hours of bliss and sore jaw muscles. Jewel-cut rock candy that could set off Dame Rarity's gem-finding spell. Color-speckled jawbreakers like tooth-eroding stars plucked from the sweetest depths of Luna's sky.

My parents are bakers. I know the ins and outs of pastry too well for it to have any fascination for me. But Bonbon was a confectioner, an artist who used sugar like Mom and Dad used flour, who could make cacao beans grateful to be roasted and pulverized, who had an even better and worse love-hate relationship with Ponyville's dental hygienist (and temporal logistics operative) than did the Corner...

I realized that I was drooling. Blushing, I caught my shameful saliva in my telekinesis. "I'm terribly sorry."

Paragon of grace that she was, Madame Dulcinea waved it off. "Please, I take it as a compliment. What's your pleasure?"

"I'm actually looking for a Miss Lyra Heartstrings." Duty and maturity dragged every word like a great slab of lead, or perhaps of the toffee that even now...

No. Bad Pumpkin. Business before pleasure. Such pleasure.

Confusion and a hint of fear flickered on Bonbon's face for a moment before her genial smile reasserted itself. "Lyra?" she asked, just a bit too high and too quickly. "What do you need her for?"

Enamored as I was with her creations, I wouldn't be a Bureau agent if I didn't notice the salespony's mask slip. "Is there something wrong, Miss?"

"No!" She scrambled to correct the outburst. "No, nothing's wrong. Everything's fine." She swallowed. "Er, why, exactly, do you need Lyra?"

I gave my best reassuring smile. "Just a fan of her work, Miss." Technically true. We may both be in Quantum Affairs, but I could never do what Lyra does on a daily basis. I just keep tangible and intangible distinct. She makes sure that everything that can happen does.

Bonbon gave a relieved sigh. "Thank goodness." She giggled a bit. "I know how crazy this will sound, but sometimes those conspiracies of hers sound terribly... believable. All nonsense, of course," she said, as much to herself as to me, "but... sensible nonsense, if you know what I mean."

I nodded. Ah, the perils of hypnotic confidentiality. Minds can't be neatly portioned off into public and private. Like a cheap quill, they either leak or break. Thankfully, Lyra's did the former, though at times it seemed like the latter. "Miss Heartstrings has something of a reputation for... eccentricity," I said diplomatically.

Bonbon gave the ghost of a grin and shook her head. "No, I don't think we can afford eccentricity. Lyra's just weird." The grin revivified. "In any case, you didn't come here to talk about her behind her tail. She's upstairs."

"Thank you." I started for the stairs, but soon halted. My stomach and inner child had banded together and were demanding compensation for their cooperation. "Um, Miss Bonbon?"

"Yes... Oh, I never even got your name!"

"Summer Squash." I took a deep breath. Princesses preserve me from this sweet tooth. "C-could I get one of the big bumboozer 'breakers? To go?"

The big bumboozer was to jawbreakers what coconut custard was to combat bakery. It was slightly smaller than a foal's head and contained more than a day's recommended allowance of carbohydrates. After the Geneighva Convention, it took decades of work by the confectioners' lobby to make it legal again. The techniques were nearly lost to the ages. Some rumors claim that the mare who finally convinced Celestia was actually a member of the Time Division sent in a rare case of sanctioned historical alteration. Others say the princess herself went back to correct her earlier mistake. All I knew for certain was that the day I could first fit one of those enormous spheres of sugary bliss in my mouth was one of the greatest in my life.

I couldn't look back. I didn't need to. There would be that same gentle, faintly smug smile that confectioners, bakers, vintners, and other purveyors of society-sanctioned vice seemed to learn. It was a smile that said, "I am glad to help ease the burdens of your life. I will speak of your purchase to nopony and will never, ever judge you. In exchange, you will give me a lot of money." True to form, she answered, "That will be twenty bits."

"Worth every cent." I only realized I'd spoken the thought after the fact.

"Plain paper bag?"

Something in her tone struck a spark of rebellion in me. "Actually," I answered, turning to face her, "just leave it on the counter. I'll pick it up on my way out."

As I noted above, I wouldn't be an ETSAB agent if I couldn't detect subtle hints and betraying flashes. Here it was a moment's hesitation, a hint of grudging awe in Bonbon's voice. "Certainly."

I took a deep breath as I went up the stairs. Compared to my sugar fix, dealing with an inactive Lyra would be a walk in the park.

Upstairs, notes from a lyre drifted out of one of the rooms. It wasn't music but experimentation; after a couple notes, the forming melody would cut off, only to repeat with a changed note here and there. Even without the halting tune, I would've been able to pick out which door led to the unicorn; it was the only one with a griffin-style rotary doorknob, the sort that's almost impossible to work with hooves. I knocked on the oddly outfitted door.

"Come in."

I did just that, turning the knob with my magic. As soon as I crossed the threshold, an enormous hand formed of golden magic grabbed me, lifted me into the air, and began to squeeze the life out of me.

All in all, still not as bad as my sweet tooth.

Lyra grinned triumphantly, her horn wreathed in an identical auriferous aura, an open book hovering before her next to her iconic instrument. On the cover of the spellbook was an open five-fingered hand over an unpleasant looking ten-pointed arcane seal. "Thought you could catch me off guard, didn't you? Big mistake. I knew the Mare would send her goons after me if I was on the right track. All you've done is confirm my suspicions."

"Hi, Lyra," I croaked, my breathing rather obstructed by my bindings. "Very nice use of Magnus Beta's Grappling Grasper."

The hold loosened a bit as she gawped at me, flummoxed by my nonchalance. "Wha... You're not supposed to say that!"

"Oh, was there a script?" I gave my best look of concern. It wasn't hard; I just had to seem worried about a social faux pas rather than living long enough to taste the massive masterpiece that waited for me downstairs. "Sorry, I didn't know." As I waxed contrite, I started to feed my own magic into the hand, eroding its coherence.

Of course, that wasn't going to go unnoticed by its controller. Lyra's expression snapped from incomprehension back to righteous fury. The fingers around me tightened as she snapped, "Don't try to distract me! Do you even know what this is?" She tilted her head towards her tome, shadows dancing in her moving hornlight. "What it's capable of?"

I nodded. The squeezing wasn't so bad as the Grasper became progressively less real. More cushiony than crushing. "To quote the Mad Arabian: 'Sibling to this Liber Paginarum Fulvarum is the Liber Digitalis Ambulatorum, where the secrets of the God-Apes may be found by those who dare to claim them for their own.'" I peered critically at the Book of Walking Fingers. "Of course, what you've got there looks like a fifthhoof copy at best."

"Really?" The grip slackened again as she examined the codex. "I thought it was an original."

I snorted. "Oh no. You know when you've got an original copy of that kind of spellbook. The loss of sanity and the mutations are kind of a tipoff."

"Mutations?" There was unease in Lyra's tone, but also a bit of morbid fascination.

"Uh, hello? Sibling to the Neighcrotelecomnicon? You definitely wouldn't still have hooves. You might not even have legs."

"Huh." Lyra shook her head. "Darn it, stop trying to distract me! It's not going to— What have you done!?" Darn, she noticed. Between my spellcraft and her lack of focus, the Grasper had gone from brilliant solidity to fitful transparency. The mint-green mare redoubled her efforts, overglow wreathing her horn. "I'm not letting you report back to Canterlot!"

I admit, the sheer wrath in that declaration shook me. "Y-you don't mean—"

"Oh, don't worry. Fifthhoof or not, the book's still got a lot to teach. It calls this a 'sleeper hold.' I'll just send you back as a message." She flashed a sadistic grin. "Nopony tugs at these Heartstrings."

I would've facehoofed if I could wriggle one free. "Really? 'Nopony tugs at these Heartstrings'? Did you spend all night coming up with that one?"

She blushed. "N-no!"

"Why not 'I call my own tune,' or 'This lyre will find the truth'? I mean, at least you didn't make a hand pun, but still."

Lyra scowled. "You're in no place to be criticizing my choice of one-liners!"

I rolled my eyes. "The fact that you're making one-liners at all is kind of embarrassing. You don't think spying is actually like a Con Mane movie, do you? All gadgets and cart chases and reporting to ponies with one-letter code names?" Okay, there is that weird stallion L Lariat over in Anomalous Affairs, but his parents actually named him that.

If looks could kill, I wouldn't be telling you this. "Shut up!" Lyra screamed. Layer after layer of overglow enshrouded her horn. The Grasper began to vibrate with its caster's fury.

Fortunately, Lyra had just been feeding more and more power into the construct without ever figuring out what I'd been doing. It didn't really hurt, but the quivering wasn't fun. "I d-d-don't thi-i-ink thi-i-is is-s-s wha-a-at the-e-ey me-e-ean b-b-by sha-a-aking ha-a-ands!"

Then the spell passed a vital threshold, becoming so unreal that it could no longer support my weight. Thus, I began to pass through it. However, Lyra was still reinforcing it, which meant she was trying to form a force construct where there was already solid matter.

In the end, it came down to the Pauni Exclusion Principle. The hand and I couldn't occupy the same space. Something had to give. The hand was more fragile than I was, and so it exploded.

Hang on. I'm going to get that bumboozer. Be right back.

Pumpkin Cake, Ontolomancer 3UU
Legendary Creature — Unicorn Wizard
Flash; hexproof
When Pumpkin Cake, Ontolomancer enters the battlefield, put target exiled permanent card onto the battlefield under your control. Exile that permanent at the beginning of the next end step. If that permanent would leave the battlefield, exile it instead of putting it anywhere else.
1/3

Haec Stupri Cucurbita

Mmm, crystallized sugar. My one weakness. Where were we? Right, Lyra's hand spell had just exploded.

One thing the action movies never mention is the awkward pause after an explosion as you wait for the smoke to clear. Most ponies use the time to prepare spells, plan out the next few seconds, make sure their insides still are, that sort of thing. In my case, having been at ground zero of the blast, I was too disoriented to do much beyond wait.

The dust settled and my vision cleared, revealing a wrecked study, a still dazed unicorn, and a gaping earth pony in the doorway.

I offered a shaky smile and a woozy "Hello, Miss Dulcinea."

"What happened in here?" Bonbon cried. "It looks like a bomb went off! It sounded like a bomb went off!"

I shook my head, trying to gather my thoughts. I didn't think I had a concussion... "Well, essentially, a bomb went off."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fi—" I cut myself off once I realized the question had come from the other end of the room. Bonbon was crouching at Lyra's side, looking for injuries.

"Slight magical accident, Bonnie," the green mare murmured.

"Slight? They heard it in Canterlot!"

Lyra chuckled. "All of our limbs are still attached, we're both the same shape as we started, and nothing's been sent to or from a parallel universe. By unicorn standards, this was a hiccup."

Bonbon sighed. It was a well-practiced sigh, rich with weariness and tempered with love. "You're okay, then?"

"A-okay." Lyra stood, stumbling for a moment before finding her balance. "A little shaken up, but okay."

The earth mare took a deep breath, letting her nervous tension flow out with the air. "Good." She turned and walked towards me, a far less serene expression on her face. Uh oh.

"Miss Dulcinea, I—"

"Can it. I want you out of this house. Now. You can forget about that order of yours, too. I'll refund you; I don't even want your money around here."

Lyra put a foreleg over her fillyfriend's withers. "Bonnie! It's okay, it was an accident! And for that matter, it was my fault!"

"No, no, I understand." I turned and headed for the door, head low, tail limp. "It's perfectly alright. I'll... I'll just show myself out." I may have limped a little.

Three, two, one. "Wait." Hooves approached from behind me. "I apologize. It was a knee-jerk reaction. You can stay." Bonbon went around me, faced me, and smiled. "I'll have your order waiting for you when you're ready to go."

I returned the smile, no need for acting. "Thank you, Miss."

"Thank you for understanding."

As Bonbon made her way back to the shopfront, the door closed itself, enclosed in a golden aura. "So," Lyra began, "this sort of thing going to happen every time we meet up?"

I turned around. There was no real way to tell a mental switch had been flipped in the mare. Maybe her stance had shifted incrementally, maybe her smile was a few microns wider. Still, it was as obvious as the horn on her forehead. "Agent Heartstrings, I presume."

That got a snicker. "You presume correctly. Sorry about the rude welcome, forgot to secure the handbook here." She flicked her horn in the direction of the Liber Digitalis Ambulatorum.

I shrugged. "It happens."

"Doesn't mean it should," Lyra grumbled.

"What was that about something happening every time we meet?"

She gave a half-lidded smile. "Oh, you'll find out."

I swallowed against the growing lump in my throat. "W-well, I suppose I'll just have to wait until the time comes. Even though it's already come and gone for you. Yeah."

"You're rambling, Pumpkin." Going by her amused, indulgent grin, Lyra didn't mind much.

I cleared my throat. "So I am. Um, just wanted to touch base, get past those awkward first meeting moments before the actual first meeting. From your perspective, anyway."

"As you told me then."

"Oh. Okay, then." I pawed at the floorboards for a moment. "Um, would you like help cleaning up?"

She waved off the offer. "Nah, my fault, my problem. You go do your thing. Who've you got left?"

"The Time Division agents and Ditzy Doo."

Lyra gathered a broom and dustpan in her magic. "If you want my advice, get the time ponies out of the way. What you're doing isn't against the rules, but they're still not going to like it."

"I cede to your better understanding of the agents in question."

"Good." She opened a compartment hidden in one of her desk's legs, extracted a scroll tied with a ribbon the same color as her coat, and passed it to me. "When you're through there, give that to Ditzy, since you'll be there for your meet-and-greet and I have a room to reassemble. Howsabout we do this again in, oh, negative two weeks?"

I laughed. "Sounds good. See you then!"

Turner's Dentistry and Horology was one of those oddly eternal fixtures of Ponyville, unchanging, unnoticed, and taken for granted. It looked much like it would in several years: a two-story cottage typical of Ponyville, its blue paint and hourglass-and-toothbrush sign the only noticeable differences.

Well, there was the whole "bigger on the inside" thing, but the Turners were careful not to flaunt that in public areas of the house.

I opened the door to the clock shop on the first floor, a curious sound like a saw struggling through a gnarled stump announcing my entrance. Timepieces of all descriptions filled the show floor: ornate cuckoo clocks, watches for fetlocks and pockets, digital models with the latest light-evoking dwoemers, even a hoof-carved sundial with a beautiful filigree gnomon.

Still, missing from this temporal tableau were a pair of a hourglasses and the earth stallion attached to them. "Hello?" I called. Not sure why. That grinding that the Doctor uses in place of a bell could practically wake the dead.

"Coming, coming!" The Doctor nearly tumbled his way down the stairs that led to Colgate's office. Words came out of his mouth with similar haste. "Miss Cake, good to see you, sorry for the delay, bit of a busy period right now; did you know the Elements of Harmony came from a tree?"

So far, this conversation was par for the course. "I thought they were the body of Faust."

"Well, yes, here they are." He began to pace around the room, occasionally inspecting a piece of merchandise. "In the baseline Equestria, though, they're basically a half-dozen berries that Celestia and Luna picked off of Equestria's world-tree, which is apparently a thing. Naturally, this has led to quite a bit of confusion throughout the timeline because the blasted thing keeps trying to come into existence and we just don't have room for it. Bit of a debacle, really, but not so bad that I need to close up shop."

"Ah. I could help, if you—"

"Thank you, but you already are." He examined a wall-mounted clock with a twelve-armed spiral galaxy pattern and a large tag reading "NOT FOR SALE." "Millennium hand's on the six, eon hand's on the four, good, good."

"I just wanted to touch base and—"

"Get a sense of me before the first impression sets in, yes, quite clever, Minnie's not going to like it, but that's never stopped me." He moved behind the checkout counter and began wiping it with a rag. Not wiping it clean, necessarily, but definitely wiping it.

I really shouldn't have been surprised. Still was, though. "How did you—"

The Doctor looked up from his dust redistribution and gave me the sort of dumbfounded look ponies reserve for questions like "Who's Celestia?" "You smell earlier," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"How does that even—"

He rolled his eyes. "Time pony. Earth time pony. One of the perks."

"I... see." I didn't, but again, par for the course. "I should probably go up and meet with Agent Colgate."

He paused for a moment before lightly smacking the side of his head with a forehoof. "Right. Sorry. As I said, the timeline's a bit of a mess, so the bits of my mind that usually make sure I'm polite are more concerned with keeping us all from vanishing in a puff of logic. Makes me sneeze, you know."

I nodded. "Perfectly understandable, sir." Inasmuch as he ever was. I made for the stairs. "Good luck."

"Ha! Don't need luck when you have skill." He reflected on this. "Can't hurt though. Thank you. See you soon." He nodded to himself, apparently satisfied that the shop was in order, glanced out the windows, then...

Time travel is different for each pony tribe. Unicorns have come a long way since Star Swirl, but they still need to exert incredible effort and magic. Pegasi need speed, and lots of it. But for earth ponies with the right talent, time is just another direction. The Doctor began trotting from the front door, fading out as he went. By the time he would've reached the other end of the room, he wasn't then anymore.

I shivered. Timewalking always gave me the chills. The pony didn't become any less real, just... farther away. In a direction I can't usually feel.

Jibblies or no, I still had two mares to see while I was here and now, and one was in this house. Presumably. Well, one way to find out.

I went upstairs, helpful signs pointing the way towards Colgate Turner, MDent. The smiling cartoon molars on the signs had always truck me as odd. A tooth with teeth. Did the subteeth have faces as well? I once tried to incarnate one to check, but it just screamed from the moment it started existing.

I noted that I probably shouldn't mention that to Colgate.

The waiting area was devoid of ponies, just as I had planned. I'd asked Colgate for one of her old appointment books to find a slow day for my first visit. I suppose I could've just asked her when I visited, but Time Division agents usually don't appreciate being asked to help engender paradoxes.

In any case, I knocked on the door with her nameplate and entered after hearing a curt "Come in."

I opened the door to get a face full of irate blue unicorn. "Do you have any idea," she growled, "how much of a headache you have been giving me today?"

"...No?" I tried a cute smile. Old habits die hard.

Colgate's expression did not waver. Mine fell. "While you've been prancing about Ponyville, my horn has been registering you as a mobile discontinuity. It's been like having a migraine that decided to take a grand tour of my body."

"Oh." The smile came back, much more apologetic. "I'm almost done?"

"Yes. You are. And henceforth, you will not hop about the timeline like a hyperactive flea."

I shrank in on myself and nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Colgate huffed out a deep breath and mellowed a bit. "I admit, I'm projecting some anger at the moment. Between Ditzy Doo and Twilight Sparkle, this is a rather frustrating section of time to manage. Throw in this Tree of Harmony nonsense, and... well, you chose a rather busy time to come say 'hello.'"

"Sorry."

She waved a forehoof dismissively. "It's been a frustrating few days is all. It really is good to see you again, Pumpkin; just make sure your third visit is mine."

I nodded. "Certainly, ma'am." I began making my way out. "See you soon."

Colgate smiled, discomfort still evident in the tightness of her features. "Yes, I have." She closed the door behind me.

I heaved a sigh of relief. Even after tilting it ninety degrees from everything, I'd been certain her dentist senses would pick up on the jawbreaker.

The Doo residence. Few indicators distinguished it from any other Ponyville home. The mailbox a bit nicer, the roof thatch a bit neater. The sense of otherworldliness radiating out from under that thatch was a bit of a tell, but only to me.

In any case, this was the last stop before I could get out of Colgate's mane. A quick hello, a delivered scroll, and everypony would be happy. I pulled the cord for the doorbell.

Hoofsteps approached, a bit lighter than I expected. Then the door opened. "Hello?"

I gawked. I couldn't help it. This mare had made sure that her presence would strike me dumb with fear, awe, and respect. She was one of but a dozen ponies who could defuse a subcritical Twilight Sparkle. Hers was the one awareness I could never elude. She taught me almost everything I know about magic, which I'm sure is a tiny fraction of everything she knows. She was Madame No, Doctor Nullhorn, the Lilac Devil.

She didn't even come up to my shoulder. It was rather disconcerting.

"Hello?" She frowned at my silence and staring.

I shook my head. Dinky was not yet the terror of young unicorns everywhere but a young unicorn herself. If I could just keep that in mind, I'd be fine.

I snapped to attention, saluted the filly, and proclaimed, "Good afternoon, Ma'am!"

Damn it.

Understandably, Dinky looked at me like I was insane. "You're weird."

I felt a blush heat my cheeks as I offered an apologetic grin. "Sorry. You look just like my old magic teacher. Just... smaller." One hundred percent true, that.

"Uh huh." Was I this suspicious at her age? "So why are you here?"

"I'm one of your mom's coworkers. I wanted to catch up with her." I gave the widest, most innocent smile I could muster.

It seemed to work, judging by how Dinky's expression went from skeptical to delighted. "You're a spy pony?"

I winked. "No."

She giggled, then turned and trotted into the house. "Mommy!" she called, "Visitor! She's not a spy pony!"

Ditzy Doo herself soon walked into view, a smile on her face. "Well, hello, Miss Not-a-Spy-Pony. Please come in."

I did. She led me to a small living room, made larger by its wide windows. "So," said the pegasus as she sat on a couch facing the view, "which one is this for you?"

On the opposite couch, I blinked, feigning confusion. "Excuse me?"

Ditzy rolled her eyes, always an impressive sight. "Don't worry about confidentiality. Address is going to be playing Postmaster Tyrant for hours yet and Dinky can keep a secret. Can't you, Muffin?"

There came a surprised squeak from the kitchen, followed by an embarrassed "Yes, Mommy."

She could, as my ninth birthday party will have attested. "My first," I admitted. "First impressions are a lot easier if you get a practice run."

Ditzy nodded. "Makes sense. It's my second time seeing you. Didn't want to build up a backlog, I take it?"

"Yeah," I answered, "especially not after Colgate tore into me. I'm surprised, though. Temporal mechanics ties the average pony's brain in knots."

"Well, I'm not the average pony," she noted. "Besides, I have experience with time magic and the merry havoc it can play with logic."

"True." I stood.

"Leaving already?"

I nodded. "Just wanted to poke my head in. Get a sense of the area and my fellow agents before introducing myself offi—" I stopped as a wonderful, wonderful smell wafted its way from the kitchen.

Ditzy grinned. "It's the first batch of the season. Had to promise half of them to Bottle Gourd."

I swallowed. Remember how I said baked goods had no hold on me? Well, there's an exception to that. "C-could I...?"

My hostess nodded magnanimously. "Certainly."

The only thing better than a successful mission with no complications is a successful mission with no complications followed by a Ditzy Doo-baked pumpkin muffin fresh out of the oven.

Wibbly-Wobbly 2U
Instant
Exile target creature you control and target creature you don't control. Return those cards to the battlefield under their owners' control at the beginning of the next end step.
Most think time is a strict progression of cause to effect. If only it were that simple."
—Minuette, temporal operative

Author's Note

Google Translate assures me that the chapter title translates to "This Fucking Pumpkin." If you speak Latin, feel free to confirm or correct that.

The ETSAB and You

Introduction to the Equestrian Time-Space Administration Bureau
Unofficially annotated by Agent Lyra Heartstrings

The Equestrian Time-Space Administration Bureau does what ponies have always done: guide the natural world towards greater harmony. The only difference is what the Bureau guides. As you may have guessed from the organization's name, we ensure that time flows and space expands. That future follows past and here leads to there.

It's every bit as difficult and thankless as it sounds.

When the ETSAB was founded and how long it has existed are simple questions with very complex answers. In an organization where time travel may be so routine as to be part of an agent's "daily" commute, a definite origin point is hard to come by. Furthermore, while on assignment, some agents may experience years or even decades in subjective time when only days have passed according to the calendar, or vice versa!

Thankfully, that's all the Time Division's problem, so you and I don't have to worry about that kind of horseapples. Usually.

Confidentiality

Given the incredibly sensitive and vital nature of the ETSAB's work, we remain a top state secret. Only those with Princess-level security clearance or higher are permitted to know of our existence. Anyone with unauthorized knowledge of the Bureau will be subject to memory alteration as per the Temporaspacial Security Act of 4917.

It makes sense, really. Weather ponies get bugged all the time as it is. Imagine if you knew somepony who could literally give you an hour of their time! Oh, and the whole "use for evil" thing.

However, this does not mean that agents are expected to live as traceless nonentities! While the ETSAB does offer comfortable, subsidized living quarters for those who want them, agents are free and encouraged to live their lives normally. We use a number of tried-and-tested hypnotic, psychomantic, and other methods to ensure inactive agents don't accidentally divulge confidential information. Ask your supervisor about the options available to you.

Note that they don't say where the housing is, or the side effects of those methods.

Scope

Despite the name, the ETSAB doesn't just worry about Equestria. We keep the whole universe running! As such, you have full diplomatic immunity when on assignment (and only on assignment!) We provide all necessary transportation in both space and time so you can focus on the task at hand.

On the other hand, that diplomatic immunity rarely extends to other timelines.

As such, moving is never necessary when accepting a position in the ETSAB. Rest assured, no matter where or even when your Point A, we can get you to Point B.

Bureau Structure

The following list identifies each of the divisons, deparments, and offices of the Equestrian Time-Space Administration Bureau.

Time Division Division Administrator: Second Hand
Department of Causal Affairs Head of Department: Dr. John Smith
Office of Maintenance Executive Officer: Trouble Shoot
Makes sure history stays as it should.
Office of Posterity Executive Officer: Clay Tablet
Keeps records so the OoM knows how history should be.
Office of Enforcement Executive Officer: Spoiler Alert
Cracks down on unscrupulous time travelers.
Department of Chronomantic Concerns Head of Department: Time Twister
Office of Voluntary Transit Executive Officer: All Aboard
Gets you when you need to go.
Office of Dislocation Executive Officer: Encino Mare
Helps ponies who are in the wrong time.
Office of Desynchronization Executive Officer: Burst Bubble
Helps ponies who are experiencing time oddly.
Department of Anomalous Affairs Head of Department: Closed Loop
Office of Investigation Executive Officer: Deep Analysis
Figures out what's going on with wide-scale weird time stuff.
Office of Resolution Executive Officer: Quick Fix-It
Fixes wide-scale weird time stuff.
Office of Precedence Executive Officer: Bronze Tablet
Records what fixed weird time stuff for future reference.
Department of Metacommunications Head of Department: Express Delivery
Office of Tardyonic Communications Executive Officer: Post Box
Sends messages that arrive after they're sent. You technically work for them.
Office of Tachyonic Communications Executive Officer: Second Degree
Sends messages that arrive before they're sent.
Office of Achronic Communications Executive Officer: Exact Change
Sends messages that arrive exactly when they're sent. This comes up more often than you'd think.
Space Division Division Administrator: Inner Core
Department of Quantum Affairs Head of Department: Steady Handlebars
Office of Parallel Timelines Executive Officer: Myriad Ways
Coolest office.
Office of Improbabilities Executive Officer: Golden Bale
Handles spontaneous chaos magic outbreaks and other unlikely events.
Office of Ontological Ambiguity Executive Officer: Problem Sleuth
Makes stuff exist. Or not. It's weird; ask Pumpkin.
Department of Extraplanar Affairs Head of Department: Rose Waterlily
Office of Eldritch Beings Executive Officer: Lost Scroll
Deals with that which pony was not meant to know. High employee turnover.
Office of Interplanar Transit Executive Officer: Culture Clash
You consult for these guys, so second-coolest office.
Office of Interplanar Communications Executive Officer: Greeting Card
Finally has something to do now that you're around.
Department of Cosmic Affairs Head of Department: Glorious Dawn
Office of Extraplanetary Travel Executive Officer: Eva Houston
Handles the really big teleports.
Office of Extraplanetary Life Executive Officer: Robin Berry
Hey, you never know.
Office of Sidereal Management Executive Officer: Coriander Pinch
Handled the stars and such before Luna came back. She's co-opted it for her own purposes.
Department of Magical Concerns Head of Department: Rubber Sheet
Office of Translocation Executive Officer: Round Trip
Handles intraplanetary teleportation.
Office of Subdimensions Executive Officer: Dust Speck
Manages the little things.
Office of Hyperspace Executive Officer: Great Beyond
Manages the big things.

There's also the Oversight Division, but no one knows much about them. They're there to make sure none of the rest of us go mad with power. Exactly how they go about doing that, I don't know, but the universe hasn't collapsed so far.

We're sure you will become an invaluable part of what keeps the world safe, stable, and sensical. Thank you in advance for all your hard work.

Princess Mi Illusione Prudenza, Bureau Chief

Welcome to the team, Ditzy, and good luck. You're probably going to need it.

Author's Note

This chapter is, among other things, an experiment in audience participation. If there's something you want to know that I didn't include here, ask in the comments. The answer will either be added to the text, or it will be classified information.

Dink of Disaster

"Mommy?"

Ditzy's ears perked, and she set the dish she was washing on the kitchen counter. That tone, that careful blend of hesitance, guilt, and weaponized cuteness, deserved only one response.

The pegasus reached the entry hall, dishcloth still in wing, and sighed. "What did you do?"

Dinky scowled and opened her mouth, probably to defend herself. A moment later, she shut it and slumped into a sitting position. "I, um, I kinda broke the bully."

Ditzy processed this for a moment. "The bully."

"Uh huh."

"Diamond Tiara or Silver Spoon?"

"Tiara."

"And not any of her possessions. You broke the bully herself."

"Yeah."

Further pondering took place. "How, exactly?"

Dinky simply squinted her eyes shut. Her horn gave off a faint glow, much dimmer than usual. She then jolted up and clapped her forehooves over it. "Ow ow ow ow ow..."

"My little filly's first overchanneling." Ditzy leaned in to nuzzle her wincing daughter. "From the sound of it, you got exactly what you deserve." Her smirk collapsed on itself. "But I still don't like seeing you in pain. Come on, food will help."

"Um..."

Ditzy whipped her head from side to side. That hadn't come from Dinky. Something had snuck by her. It sounded like a filly, but—

"Oh, yeah." Dinky blushed. "Um, can we have Diamond Tiara over for lunch and mbfxrmgc?"

Diamond Tiara? Well, that would explain the matter of who — though it also meant Ditzy wasn't totally ruling out demons — but it didn't address where. The filly's lone utterance had been too quiet and brief to pin down her position, and she wasn't showing up at all... on... mana sight.

Ditzy ceased her pacing about the front hall. "Dinky? What exactly did you just say?

"Can we have Diamond Tiara over for lunch and mbyfxhrmgc."

Ah. What Ditzy had thought she'd said. "Maybe fix her magic?"

Dinky gulped. "Um. Yeah. That."

"What do you mean 'maybe'?" There was Diamond Tiara's voice again. She'd probably wanted the question to sound indignant, but it came out more horrified than anything.

Still, it was enough for Ditzy to pinpoint the pink filly. More or less. Her eyes kept sliding off of her, but when the pegasus could focus, Tiara made for quite a sight. She was devoid of the faint light Ditzy saw in everypony. She seemed almost... compressed. Flat. And that was just her metaphysical appearance. The fur under her eyes was tear-soaked, her body shook with suppressed sobs, her tail was held tight against her backside...

Ditzy had no love for the spoiled little monster that thrived on the suffering of her peers. This wasn't that pony. This was a filly who'd had not just the rug but the whole darn house pulled out from under her. "Alright," Ditzy sighed, "I'll fix this as best I can." She turned back towards the kitchen. "Come on, Diamond."

Judging from the sound of the hoofbeats behind her, the earth filly was tottering like a month-old foal. "Th-thank you, Miss Doo."

Ditzy winced, then winced at wincing just because Diamond Tiara was being sincerely polite. "Dinky, I'm going to need details. What you did, how you did it, as much as you can give me."

"Well..." Dinky hesitated. Ditzy wanted to believe she was gathering her thoughts. "It all began when she said..."

"Oh look. It's the dud."

Dinky paid Diamond Tiara no heed. Just keep walking, she told herself. The bully can't do anything if you don't let her.

"Aw, has the dud gone deaf?"

The sound wasn't fading. Tiara was following her. Dinky kept walking. The nuisance was probably just bored. Stay uninteresting and she'd move on.

"Well, it's a perfect match, really. A mom who can't see and and a daughter who can't hear."

Right, that did it. Dinky whirled on her tormentors. "What do you two–" Tiara was alone. "Where's Silver Spoon?"

Tiara rolled her eyes. "Piano lessons."

Dinky tilted her head as she thought over the earth filly's actions. "Were... were you talking to yourself, trying to get a rise out of me?"

Tiara scowled. "It worked, didn't it?"

"And you went after my mom's eyes? Really? After she saved the town? And the universe?"

Tiara snorted. "Please, everypony knows it was Twilight Sparkle and her friends, like always."

Dinky recalled a maddened creature of pure energy, ready to split the world in two in order to save it. "Do they?"

"Duh, when is it ever anypony else?"

"Sure, whatever." Dinky turned around again. "I don't have to stand here and listen to this."

"Yeah, go and play with the Blank Flank Brigade." The voice remained constant. Tiara was still following her. "At least they don't have complete failure for a special talent."

"And they don't kill time trying to make other ponies feel bad about themselves. Aren't you rich? Shouldn't you be ordering servants or learning how to run a business or something?"

"Not if I don't want to. And right now I don't."

"You'd honestly rather heckle ponies than do anything else?"

Tiara hummed at that. For a moment, Dinky hoped she'd gotten the bully to actually take a look at herself. "You know," the bully finally said, "you may be a waste of a unicorn, but you're a decent dictionary. 'Heckle.' I like that word."

Dinky came to a sudden halt, Tiara nearly walking into her tail. The unicorn took a deep breath and turned back to her tormentor. "What do I have to do to get rid of you?"

The earth filly gave a half-lidded, sneering grin. "Are you kidding? You're standing up to me better than my entire class put together. You're interesting."

Maybe it was Tiara's aside. Maybe it was to disprove that "waste of a unicorn" comment. Maybe it was just the sheer desire to be rid of her. Whatever the reason, the wheels in Dinky's head started turning. "I think I get it."

"Good. I wasn't sure how much simpler I could make that."

"You couldn't," Dinky muttered, eyes focused somewhere in the middle distance. "It's right there on your flank."

Diamond Tiara frowned. "What?"

"A tiara. A crown. What does it mean? Authority. The authority of a monarch. Somepony who was born important."

Tiara primped a bit at that. "Go on."

"Not because she's done anything."

That got a frown. "Don't go on."

The faint glow over Dinky's horn and behind her eyes made it clear that that wasn't going to happen. "There's no reason she's important, no source for her authority. She just is. She just has it." She wandered into an alley, Tiara tailing her. "She can be the rudest, cruelest little beast on four hooves, and it won't matter, because that unquestioned authority is still there." Dinky blinked, and the glow dispersed. She focused back on a scowling Tiara. "It all makes sense now."

The earth filly shook and sputtered like a sealed teakettle. "You little... I can't believe..." And then the teakettle burst. "How dare you!? I am going to my daddy and he's going to make sure that retard mother of yours gets run out of town on a rail, and you along with her!"

"If you were a unicorn, you'd probably have talent with mind control spells."

"Did you hear me, you little purple horse apple? I'm going to ruin your life!"

"If a pegasus? Probably would've been a decent flier. You'd browbeat the air into submission."

Diamond Tiara shoved her muzzle into Dinky's. "Pay attention when I'm yelling at you!"

The unicorn smirked. "But you're an earth pony. Your magic is subtle, passive, constant. And that's the key. You always command respect. That's why you're the most popular filly in your class despite being... well, you."

"Then respect me!"

"No. Because I know the trick now. I know what to look for. That's what my special talent is, Tiara. I know how magic comes together." The glow returned to Dinky's eyes and horn in a blinding refulgence. "And I know how to take it apart."

It is difficult to describe what Diamond Tiara then felt to any creature that doesn't normally possess a high amount of innate magic. Think of it as the silence that comes when a sound one has heard all one's life comes to an abrupt halt, the sudden inability to perceive the color orange, the spontaneous and unwelcome transition from nudity to nakedness (distinguished largely by the crippling sense of vulnerability.)

Her legs shook, and there was an indefinable shallowness to her footing. Her mane felt strangely limp, and her tiara leaned to one side of her head. Her gut clenched, and she felt fear — not anxiety or shock or indignation but true bowel-loosening, thought-freezing fear — for the first time since she got her cutie mark. "Wuh..." Tiara paused and licked her lips. Her tongue felt thick and heavy in her mouth. Her eyes couldn't focus, kept darting from side to side. Nothing felt right. "What did you do?" Not even her speech sounded right. That was supposed to have been an angry demand. It came out like a frightened kitten's squeak.

"I..." Dinky staggered. Her vision blurred, spots briefly dancing before her eyes. She could feel the heat radiating off of her horn. She sat, closed her eyes, and tried to focus on breathing. "I don't feel so good."

"You don't feel so good!?" There, thought Tiara. That was a bit better. Still far wimpier than anything that should've come out of her throat, but still. She stumbled to the resting unicorn and shoved her. This only pushed Tiara herself backwards and made her feel like she'd run a mile. "What about me? What did you do to me?" Darn it, that was just whiny.

Dinky grimaced and flattened her ears. "Not so loud," she hissed.

Diamond Tiara planned on shrieking "I'll be as loud as I want!" Somewhere between brain and tongue, it became a plaintive "What did you do?"

The unicorn gave a pained chuckle. "Weren't you listening? No, of course not. I tore your magic apart, Tiara." She sucked a breath in through her teeth as her cooling horn started to ache like it was caught in a vice. "Never gonna do it again."

"Okay, fine, you proved your point." Tiara dredged up her courage. She wasn't sure if she could do this. "I... I'm s-s-sorry I said you failed at being a unicorn." Despite being surrounded by wrongness, she smiled for a moment. Just for a moment. "Now fix this!"

"Dunno how," Dinky mumbled. Her legs splayed out. "'M tired. Real tired. Too much magic."

Tiara gawped. "Don't fall asleep! This is an emergency!" She tried to shake the other filly by her withers, but couldn't get a grip. She settled for poking Dinky in the side. "Get up!"

"Don' wanna."

"I'm. Going. To. Keep. Poking. You. Until. You. Do." True to her word, Diamond Tiara punctuated every word with another jab to the ribs. "So. Get. Up!"

"Ugh, fine." Dinky struggled to her hooves, head drooping, eyes still mostly shut. "Now I know how Mommy feels after the Hearth's Warming rush." She noticed Tiara had moved in front her, pouting. "What?"

"Fix me!"

The unicorn sighed. It felt like her whole body was made of lead. "You're not going to leave me alone until I do, aren't you?"

"Yes! Wait, no!" Tiara groaned. "Whichever one means I get back to normal!"

Dinky took in the filly before her, the welling tears, the listing tiara. She'd done this to another pony. Not a very nice pony, but a pony, a person, all the same. If she didn't try to fix this, was she any better than Tiara herself?

"What are you waiting for!?" Tiara cried, having no respect for other ponies' internal monologues.

Under her breath, Dinky muttered, "Mommy, you raised me too well." More loudly, she said, "My horn feels like it's going to fall off, and even if it didn't, I wouldn't know where to begin."

"Why not? You wrecked everything just fine!"

"Yeah. It's like blocks. It's a lot harder to build something than to knock it down."

Tiara plopped down on her rump. "Oh."

Dinky rubbed just under the base of her horn as she thought. "You've got two options, I think. Either go to Miss Twilight or—" She shut her mouth far too late, finally realizing where her train of thought was headed.

"Or?"

The unicorn silently regretted not knowing any good bad words. "Or we can ask Mommy."

"And so you came to me," Ditzy concluded. She smirked. "I'm guessing you tried the library first?"

"Twilight Sparkle wasn't there," Tiara muttered around her sandwich.

"Miss Lyra was," added Dinky. "She said Twilight was on some important mission from Princess Celestia." She blushed. "I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay, Muffin." If she was honest with herself, Ditzy knew her ability to cast spells like a unicorn was something of an open secret in Ponyville. After Luna literally shouted her name from the rooftops, ponies were going to pay attention to her, and Rainbow Dash wasn't exactly the most discrete pony in Equestria. Still, ponies didn't like challenges to how they thought the world worked, and could paper over the occasional inconvenient memory. But that depended on plenty of uneventful time after that memory. And yet leaving Diamond Tiara disenchanted wasn't an option.

"So," said Tiara, calmer than Ditzy had heard her all day. "How are we going to do this?"

Ditzy turned to her daughter. "Dinky, can you explain what you did?"

Dinky frowned and pondered the question for some time. She began speaking a few times, but cut herself off after a word or two with a shake of her head. After several such attempts, she admitted, "I don't really have words for it. I remember what happened, but..."

Her mother nodded. "I know the feeling." Some magic defied explanation. After all, the only word that consistently described the Blind Eternities was "indescribable." "Try to remember what you were thinking."

"Well, it was when I figured out what Diamond's cutie mark means. It was kind of like... like getting two puzzle pieces to fit together, and then all the rest coming together around them. Only the puzzle was how her magic is put together. And then I saw somewhere I could hit and make the whole thing fall apart and then I realized I was already starting to and..." Dinky fell silent, looking down, ears flat.

Ditzy understood. "You could've stopped, but you didn't."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to, Muffin."

Dinky looked across the table. "I... I really am sorry, Diamond. I never... I shouldn't have done something so terrible, just because you were getting on my nerves."

Tiara remained silent, refusing to look at either Doo. "Diamond Tiara?" Ditzy prompted.

"What?" the filly spat. "Accepting her apology isn't going to fix anything."

Ditzy rolled her eyes. She'd led the pony to water, but she wasn't going to dunk her head. "Well, I'm fairly certain I can."

"'Fairly'?" The shout was fearful, yes, but there was some of Tiara's usual fire and scorn there as well.

"Well, you aren't dead, which is always an encouraging sign." Ditzy held back a smirk at the look of shock this garnered. "That means that Dinky didn't implode your soul or anything else irreversible. However, she didn't just sever your access to your magic. I'd still be able to sense it if that were the case." Such a nice, ambiguous word, "sense." Ditzy allowed the next smile to come. "So, I think we're going to clear two clouds with one kick."

Tiara gulped. "What do you mean?"

"Well, this should both fix whatever Dinky did and fix the little moral quandary I've been having over this." Before either filly could ask anything else, Ditzy opened her right wing, channeled sky blue energy into the pinions, prodded Diamond Tiara in the middle of the forehead with one. The earth filly vanished in a puff of mist, which quickly dispersed.

Dinky gaped at this. "Mommy?"

Ditzy pushed in the chair and gathered the dirty dishes. "Yes, Muffin?"

"What did you do to her?"

"Oh, she'll be fine in a few minutes. She won't remember the past... oh, hour or so, I'd say." Ditzy began rinsing off the plate. "It effectively never happened to her."

"Oh." Dinky smiled, feeling a tightness in her heart relax at that.

"Of course, it did happen, and we are going to have a long talk about the responsibility that comes with your powers."

"Oh." There went the smile.

Diamond Tiara blinked and glanced at the sky. The sun wasn't where her usually flawless sense of time said it should be.

She sighed. She must have been so bored she'd spaced out while waiting for Spoony. Still, the lesson should be over any minute now.

A quick jaunt to her friend's luxuriously appointed villa (not as luxurious as her villa, of course,) ate up any uncertainty. Pulling the bell ringer summoned Argent, the Silver family's unicorn butler, in short order. He nodded to her. "Miss Tiara. Your timing is impeccable. The young mistress finished her lessons but moments ago. Would you like me to fetch her, escort you to her, or simply inform her of your presence?"

It was a formality, really. Both knew Diamond wanted Spoon brought to her. Twice the work for the help, none for her, as was right. But as she opened her mouth, the butler's horn gave her pause.

She shook it off. "Escort me, please, Argent." She was in a good mood.

If the stallion was surprised by the deviation from the norm, he showed no sign of it. "Very good, Miss."

They reached the conservatory in short order. Once she saw Silver Spoon, Tiara dashed to her, easily putting Argent out of her mind.

One sugar lump rump bump later, Silver took rare initiative in the conversation as the servants fetched refreshments. "You know, I think we've been going a bit heavy on the Crud-saders."

"Oh?" Tiara sipped at her tea. Adequate.

"Yeah, we may want to branch out a bit, let them think they're off the hook for a little while."

Tiara savored the idea with the tea. "I like it," she declared. "Who should we heckle instead?"

"Heck— oh. Right." Silver took a cookie. "Well, I was thinking, our class is all about the same age. A few moons here or there aren't going to mean much as we get older. A full year, though..."

An odd discomfort made itself known in Tiara's gut. A memory from before she'd mastered the art of passing the bit identified it as guilt. Huh. "That... Spoony, there's making sure everypony knows who's the best, and then there's just bullying little foals."

"And we'll be sure not to cross that line," Silver said breezily. "Besides, the filly I have in mind is too perfect. She's even better than a blank flank! Her cutie mark's a broken wand, for Celestia's sake!"

"No."

Silver Spoon blinked. "Huh?"

"Not Dinky Doo." Tiara had a distant, haunted look. "She's... just no."

"But her mom is—"

"I said no, Silver Spoon." Tiara wasn't sure why she was so certain, but the chill in her heart told her this was a bad idea, and Daddy always said to listen to her instincts. "In fact, this whole idea seems kind of... well, evil."

Silver slumped. "Well, okay. Your call, DT."

Tiara nodded sagely. "Let's just pick on Twist." She smirked. "After all, thhe's harmlethhh."

"And that's how you supercharge peppermint oil!"

"Wow! Thith ith tho cool! I'm tho glad I'm your apprentithe, Mith Bonbon."

Power Dink 3(wu)
Enchantment — Aura
Enchant creature
Enchanted creature is 1/1, has no abilities, and can't have or gain abilities.
On a plane as magical as Ungula, the power to suppress magic is fearsome indeed.

Author's Note

Other possible card and chapter names included:
Dinkweed Imp
Earthdink
Glimpse the Undinkable
Treacherous Dink
Wistful Dinking
and, of course, Dink-Eyes, Servant of Pony.

Yes, that's my headcanon for Diamond Tiara's special talent. She's basically an Imposing Sovereign. And yes, this is taking place during the season 3 opener. If Celestia didn't even mention the Elements, I see no reason why she'd throw in the pony who can cast Celestial Purge.

Goodness, but I'm behind. Eh, plenty of time to see where the storylines go and to determine how closely I want to stick to them.

Morbid Flashback

"And then, when she opened her eyes, she was completely surrounded... by the dirt!"

Ditzy's audience seemed less than impressed. "And?" asked Scootaloo.

The grey mare's ears drooped. "Um, that's it."

"That ain't scary!" proclaimed Apple Bloom.

Sweetie Belle was a bit more charitable. "Not unless you're my sister."

"C'mon, Mom!" implored Dinky. "Tell us a good ghost story!"

Ditzy frowned. "I thought that was a good ghost story. Used to scare the down off of me."

"Uh, no offense, Miss Ditzy," said Apple Bloom, "but dirt ain't scary t' ponies who didn't grow up in Cloudsdale."

"Except Rarity," added Sweetie Belle.

"Right. 'Cept fer Rarity."

Dinky beamed as an idea struck her. "Ooh! Why not tell us a planeswalking story?"

"Yeah!" Scootaloo enthused. "A scary one!"

"Ah betchya saw all sorts o' scary stuff when y' was whizzin' about all them weird worlds!" Apple Bloom gushed.

Ditzy scrunched her nose as she deliberated the proposal. "I don't know, girls. I was usually too busy avoiding or running from scary stuff to remember enough for a good story."

"Usually," noted Sweetie, "but not always?"

The grown mare thought a word she didn't want to say in front of fillies. "You won't be able to tell anypony, understand?"

This got a quartet of nods. "You can trust us, Miss Ditzy!" declared Scootaloo.

"We never told nopony before," Apple Bloom assured her, "an' we ain't tellin' nopony now!"

Sweetie Belle performed an exaggerated guard salute. "Crusader's honor!"

That was all the warning Ditzy got and needed before the trio blasted, "CUTIE MARK CRUSADER CONFIDANTES! YAY!"

After uncovering her ears, the planeswalker nodded, satisfied. "Well, good enough for me."

"What about Dinky?" asked Scootaloo.

The fourth filly gave her an incredulous look. "Are you kidding? She's my mom!"

Apple Bloom nodded. "O' course. If y' cain't trust family, then who can y' trust?"

"That," Ditzy acknowledged, "and she knows what'd happen to her if she blabbed." She fixed an unsettling glare on her daughter. "Isn't that right, Muffin?"

Dinky gave a morose nod. "I don't get to hear about your secret stuff anymore."

The Crusaders perked up at the mention of secrecy. "Like what?" piped Sweetie Belle.

Dinky stuck out her tongue. "It's secret, silly!"

Ditzy nodded. "Now, do you want to hear the story?"

This got a torrent of confirmation, to which she smiled and replied, "Okay, okay, calm down. Now, what do you want to hear? The Silly Old Pony Who Blew Up Time? The Strange Adventures of the Magic Mirror Ball? Maybe a fairy tale?"

Scootaloo sneered. "Fairy tales? Really? We want something scary!"

Ditzy smirked. "Did I mention that these fairies are wasplike creatures who want only to humiliate you, steal your dreams, and kill you if the opportunity presents itself?"

The younger pegasus gulped. "Um, okay. Not totally lame, I guess."

"I've heard those!" protested Dinky. "Tell us something that happened to you!" The Crusaders echoed her request, Scootaloo a bit louder than the others.

"Hmm. Well, I guess there is one story that would work. It takes place on the plane of Innistrad..."

Innistrad's not much like our world. Oh, there's air and gravity and lots of other things you take for granted, but there aren't any ponies. There are no princesses to guide its humble sun and silver moon, no caretakers to watch after the plants and animals, no technicians to make and manage the weather. Innistrad is a wild world, one that can and does take care of itself.

The magic's different, too. Here, it's built around skill and talent, around the balance of harmony and discord. There, it's a matter of life and death. Monsters stalk the night: restless spirits of the dead, ever-hungering walking corpses, cruel and imperious vampires. And the day's no better for you or me. It's the domain of the humans.

Yes, humans. Oh, they're real, alright. You won't see any in our world. Those few who can travel between planes turn into ponies when they come here and turn back when they leave, it's just the way our world works. But that's not the case on most worlds, Innistrad among them. They're not as bad as you may have heard – none have ever tried to eat me, which is more than I can say for goblins – but they're dangerous. It's because they're a lot like ponies.

Oh, you don't think we're dangerous? You, Scootaloo, who may one day summon thunderbolts just by kicking a cloud? How about you, Apple Bloom, with your bone-breaking legs and iron constitution? Or Sweetie Belle? There are few things more terrifying than a unicorn who hasn't found her special talent. Who knows what you'll be capable of.

Relax, girls. I'm just making a point. Besides, humans aren't dangerous because they can call down hailstones or kick through steel or perform great feats of magic. Well, most of them can't. No, it's because, like ponies, they fear the unfamiliar, and there's little more unfamiliar than a creature who's foreign to your very universe.

In Innistrad, where the unfamiliar, where the inhuman is more than likely to be a lethal threat, that fear is at its peak. There's no reasoning with an Innistrader, no chance at friendship, no hope of mutual understanding. They'll go for the torches and pitchforks before you can even introduce yourself, and that's speaking from experience. Fortunately, I know a few illusions, so I could disguise myself, but it was still touch-and-go. There was no telling what would happen to me if I was discovered for what I really was.

Now, this particular adventure happened to me in the province of Kessig, which is dominated by the Ulvenwald Forest. The Ulvenwald is a wild place, even more so than the rest of that world, a surly hermit compared to the petulant child that is the Everfree. It is a cruel, harsh wood, where branches snatch wings out of the sky and wolves stalk the undergrowth. And those are merely the mundane dangers. Worse are—

I'm just setting the scene, Scootaloo. If you don't like how I tell the story, I could try a fairy tale.

That's what I thought. Where was I?

Right. I had just planeswalked away from a rather awkward meeting on another plane, one called Kamigawa. That's not really part of the story, but suffice to say, I didn't go back there for a few years, just to be on the safe side. Anyway, I found myself in Innistrad, deep in the Ulvenwald, and I was flat-out lost. Trees in every direction, blocking out the horizon, the sky, and very nearly the ground, what with all the leaf litter.

Now, I'd gotten used to the ground by this point, but this was the first time I was outside but couldn't see the sky. As Scootaloo can tell you, pegasi don't even like ceilings much. There, I didn't even have the option to go outside. I already was outside, but the dense, tangled branches that hung between me and open air were as impassible a boundary as a brick wall. As you might imagine, my nerves were getting pretty frazzled.

Then the howls started, and I really started to panic. They weren't wolf howls. Too deep. Too long. Something much bigger and meaner was calling to its fellows, alerting them to prey. That is, to me.

No, not timberwolves. I've only ever seen those here in Ungu... in Equestria. What I heard that night were werewolves. Human by day, feral half-man, half-wolf horrors by night.

Why didn't I planeswalk again? It's not really walking, Sweetie. It's more like trying to push through solid rock using nothing but sheer force of will. In every direction. All at the same time. I needed a breather before I could force my way back out of Innistrad, and from the sound of it, I wasn't getting the chance to lie down and rest.

No, just using my magic wasn't an option, Scootaloo. My magic is what lets me planeswalk, and I was nearly tapped dry at the time. So I did the only thing I could do.

I ran.

Don't look so disappointed, Muffin. I would've definitely made them think twice if I'd been able to. As it was, I needed to make sure I'd live long enough to be able to.

I was in luck. I soon saw a light in the distance, a flickering that spoke of a fire. Where there was fire, there would be people, and shelter. Plus, it gave me a goal to aim for.

The howls kept pace with me. I couldn't help but think that they were toying with me, letting me think that I had a chance. Werewolves are just clever enough to pull something like that. Still, it added an extra dash of adrenaline to my gallop.

If they did have something planned, it must have fallen apart before they could tighten the noose. Soon enough, I could make out the light source. It was a small cottage, not too unlike Fluttershy's, but this one was right up against a massive tree wider than it was. I hadn't noticed until I got close, but the light wasn't the warm hue of a fire. It was an odd, cool blue.

Of course, by that point, I wouldn't have cared if it was bright purple with green polka dots. I had hungry wolves the size of big, angry gorillas on my back. I only paused long enough to cast a quick illusion to look human, one that barely required any magic, and—

Really? We're kind of in the middle of the story, and—

Oh, fine. Here. I looked like this.

Satisfied? Okay, so, I disguised myself, then knocked on the door.

An old man answered it. You all know Mister Wattle? Think him, but human and with a close-cropped beard. "The devil are you doing out here, young lady?" he asked. "Didn't think anyone would be this deep in the woods."

Years of pretending to be human had made me a pretty good actress, but I didn't need to fake my fear. "I think I'm being followed. Please, let me stay until sunrise?"

He nodded and cleared the doorway. "Certainly, come in, come in."

Twilight Sparkle would've loved the place. Where there weren't books, there were workbenches, or examination tables, or cabinets full of all sorts of odd chemicals. I couldn't help but give a "Wow."

The old man chuckled at that. "Not quite the setup I'm used to, but it gets the job done. What brings you this far into the Ulvenwald?"

"I never meant to," I said honestly. You can't really aim when you planeswalk, but I certainly wasn't going to mention that.

He nodded, thinking he understood. "All too easy to get lost in these parts after dark."

I slumped to the floor, relief exhausting me. "Thank you so much, sir. I'll repay you however I can."

"Of course, of course," said my host. He took one of the flasks from the workbench. "But first, could you indulge an old man's superstitions?"

I shrugged, my disguise's shoulders rising and falling with my wings. "Sure, I guess."

"Good." He raised the flask to my eye level. It looked like water. "Just a little splash of this to make sure no unpleasant geists have followed you in. Won't even stain, I promise."

No, he didn't mean guests. He meant ghosts. It was a perfectly reasonable precaution for Innistrad. Besides, I wanted to be a good guest and I didn't want to be any kind of ghost, so I let him.

Well, as soon as the first few drops hit my illusion, it felt like he'd set my coat on fire. I screamed, a real full-throated whinny, and the jig was up.

It's okay, Muffin. This was a long time ago, and I'm here to tell the tale. Besides, didn't you want a scary story?

So, I collapsed and started thrashing. My body kept trying to get the burning stuff off, whatever it was. As I flailed, the wicked old man boasted, "Aqua imperia. Like aqua regia, but it dissolves magic, not matter." Then he just pulled out a chair and sat patiently, waiting for me to exhaust myself as the acid ate away at my magic.

When I was finally still and sobbing, he lifted me onto that examination table and tied a strap around each hoof. Then he got a belt, wrapped it around my barrel, and cinched it tight, trapping my wings.

After that, he took a step back and... well, I've seen similar expressions on ponies admiring fine art. "Incredible," he said. "Body of a horse, wings of a bird, tongue of a man, and eyes like I've never seen! Who made you, little one?"

I'll be honest, I'm not quite sure if I was in control of my mouth at the time, what with the pain, the sorrow, and thinking I only had moments to live. It was that last that settled it. I had nothing left to lose. Why not tell the truth? "I don't think you've heard of her," I croaked, my throat still raw.

"'Her'?" The madman considered this for a moment, then shrugged and said, "Well, why not? Not nearly enough women in the fine arts and sciences, I say! Take young Gisa for example," and here he picked up a scalpel and began gesturing with it far too expansively for my comfort. "Lovely girl, passionate about her work, undeniably talented, but what did she use it for? Sibling rivalry! Taking over the world! Hah! She spat in the face of death as easily as blinking, how much more power did she need? And now she's in jail, if not already executed."

He shook his head. "Her brother Geralf's no better. Oh, I tried to teach him, I tried, but you can only fill a leaky barrel so far before anything new just starts dribbling out." He sighed, then looked at the blade in his hand as though he had no idea how it had gotten there. Unfortunately, he remembered. "Right! The autopsy!" He began feeling along the... the base of my wing. He didn't do it for very long though, thank Celestia.

Hmm? Oh, it's just sensitive there. Very, very... sensitive.

Anyway, since this crazy human had been convinced I was a bunch of stitched-together body parts, he couldn't understand why he couldn't find any stitches between my body and my wings. "It doesn't make sense!" he cried. "Winged horses do not exist!"

"Hello."

"Quiet! You are not scientifically possible! The scientifically impossible are not allowed to speak!"

Well, that was when I knew I'd pushed him too far. He brought his arm back, the scalpel in his grip poised to stab somewhere I'd really rather stay unstabbed.

He swung his arm down, and just at that moment, something busted the door in. The sound and the flying wooden shards distracted the human, and the scalpel slammed into the table just to the left of my eye. He turned, eyes bright with madness. "What now?" he spat. Wearily, I thought the same thing.

We both realized the nature of the newcomer at the same time. The wolf's head made the creature's nature obvious enough, but it wasn't like any werewolf I'd ever seen. It wasn't a slavering, apelike beast, but a nobly proportioned creature whose very presence commanded respect. Not fear, respect. Very important distinction.

Oh, and it was wearing pants and a hat that were tailored for it. Werewolves usually tore off their clothes the first chance they got.

Anyway, it spoke with a voice like continental drift: low and slow, but utterly uninterruptible. "Ludevic Stelhofson. By the authority of the archangel Avacyn and her holy church, you are under arrest. Do not resist."

The madman sneered at the not-a-werewolf. "You'll never take me alive!" He spoke defiantly, but he was edging towards the back of the room.

My savior bared his teeth. His big, sharp, pointy teeth. "That is not required." He stalked into the cottage.

"I'm afraid you misunderstood, my fine, furry friend." Ludevic put his hand up his sleeve, his sneer becoming a smirk. "I meant you'll never take me while you're alive. Care to try your luck dead?" He hurled a vial at the stately creature. It shattered on impact, wreathing the wolfman in vivid blue smoke.

The wolfman strode out of the cloud no worse for the wear. "Are you finished?"

Ludevic gaped at the creature. Whatever he'd expected his smoke bomb to do, that wasn't it. He slumped to his knees. "But... you... how?"

The werewolf-but-not grabbed the alchemist by the neck of his robe and hoisted him into the air with one arm. "The same way my curse has been remade into a blessing, cretin: The grace of Avacyn."

Oh, right. Sorry. Avacyn is basically Innistrad's Celestia. Well, she doesn't move the sun, but she does watch over and protect the humans.

That's right, it moves on its own, like I said. Believe it or not, that's the case for most worlds.

I know, right?

Anyway, the wolf-thing was so focused on his quarry that he didn't even notice little old me. After a couple of hours, I had recovered enough to undo the restraints. Of course, I was still stranded in the wilds of a foreign universe, but I'll tell you how I got out of that sticky situation another time.

"Aww, why not now?" Dinky answered herself with a yawn.

Ditzy smiled. "That's why, Muffin. It's late, and I think I've given you all enough nightmare fodder for tonight."

"Feh." Scootaloo's eyelids drooped. "Wasn't that scary..."

The four fillies' sleepy susurrus soon followed. Ditzy spread a blanket over them and tiphoofed out of the room.

She popped her head into her own bedroom. Address Unknown looked up from his book. "How's the slumber party going?"

"Actually slumbering," said Ditzy.

Address grinned. "Coming to bed, then?"

"In a bit. Brought up some old memories."

The stallion frowned and shifted forward. "You going to be okay?"

Ditzy nodded. "Yeah. Just need to think."

She left the house, fluttered up to the roof, and lay on her back, taking in the stars. While her eyes drifted about the cosmos, her mind went back to the events of that night on in Innistrad, what really happened rather than the abbreviated tale for tired young ears.

A sound blow to the head sent the alchemist crumpling, but Franz did not relax. Ludevic was an infamous skaaberen, a prolific creator of alchemical undead of all shapes, sizes, and capabilities. He may not have had much time since fleeing Havengul, but assuming that he hadn't created some manner of muscle could easily be the wolfir's downfall.

Franz swept the room with eyes, ears, and nose, some small part of him still relishing the union of wolf senses and human sensibility. He would never be able to fully repay Avacyn for transforming him as she had, but he would spend his life trying. Amazingly, there was no hint of preserved flesh or rotting viscera amid the chemical stink of the refuge. It seemed that he really had caught the necro-alchemist totally off-guard.

Then he saw the operating table and realized how wrong he was. Staring at him was a strange creature, a sort of winged horse, a peculiar parody of the recently returned griffs. Unlike the half-heron steeds, the aberration simply bore feathered wings on an otherwise equine frame, though one far too small to support even as wizened a man as Ludevic. Perhaps he was practicing before committing the resources for a full-sized version?

Franz gave a soft growl as he dismissed the thought. It didn't matter what the madman had been thinking when making this thing. It was a pox on Innistrad, a mockery of true life. It would have to go.

Ditzy probably would've disputed that point, but the wolfir hadn't voiced it, and she was too immobilized by fear and pain to be much of a conversationalist. All she could do was stare in silent horror as the beastman raised his claws, no doubt to slaughter her, feast on her body, and seriously, imagination, now was not the time!

The pegasus shoved the gruesome details of her own demise out of her mind, then realized that she still could. The monster looming above her had never dropped his claws. Smoky chains of black entangled him, fading in and out of view. Ditzy's heart leapt as she realized the ebon ribbons were magic. Her magic sight still worked! She was recovering! Now if she could just survive for a few more... hours.

Crap.

"You should count yourself very, very lucky." A smooth, cultured voice interrupted Ditzy's return to despair. Its owner moved into view. Grey skin, yellow-on-black eyes, arrogant demeanor, all the signs of one of Innistrad's vampires. But they avoided the forests as much as ghoulcrafters! Well, they were supposed to.

The vampire continued, heedless of Ditzy's confusion. "While the wolfir would've disposed of you, even your memory would raise far more questions than I care for." He leaned over and began opening the restraints. "And having another planeswalker owe you a favor is never an opportunity to be scorned."

"Another planeswalker?" The pegasus seemed as surprised by the question as her new savior. She was sure she'd swallowed her tongue in fright at some point.

The vampire gave a chuckle. "Ah yes, that always seems to throw off others. 'The undead can't planeswalk,' they think. But my condition is not a true undeath, merely... life differently lived." He straightened up. "There now. Let's see if we can't get you something for the aqua imperia exposure. Nasty stuff."

Ditzy tried to roll over, but found herself too exhausted. "How—?"

"I've dabbled some in alchemy," the other planeswalker said nonchalantly, rummaging through the collection of beakers. "Worked with it before. It's nearly odorless, but not quite. Not if you know what to look for. Smell for, rather. Ah!" He held up a stoppered flask full of a bluish fluid. "Perfect." He moved back to her side. "Time for your medicine, little pony."

Ditzy looked askance at the new liquid. "And what's that?"

"The condensed essence of a sturmgeist." The vampire shook the flask a bit. "Quite the potent one, if I'm any judge. Has quite the revitalizing effect on the thoroughly disenchanted." He looked at her with bemusement. "Come now. This is no time to be paranoid. If I meant you any harm, I would've just let Mister Tall, Dark, and Lupine there do his job." The pegasus sighed and opened her mouth. "Good girl."

The liquid ectoplasm clung to Ditzy's tongue, letting off oddly minty fumes. Her mind buzzed and blue smoke flowed out of her nostrils. She swallowed, sending a pleasant chill through her entire body. She rolled off of the table, stumbling a little, but found her feet in short order. "Thank you."

The vampire dismissed this with a wave. "As I said, I did it so you'd owe me."

"Still, you saved me." She offered a forehoof. "Ditzy Doo."

"Sorin Markov." Sorin shook the offered limb.

"It's very nice to meet you, Sorin." Ditzy grinned. "Friendly 'walkers seem few and far between."

He shrugged at this. "The Multiverse is not like your home, Miss Doo. A planeswalker's life is often a harsh one. Rarely does it encourage friendliness."

Ditzy stared at the vampire. On average. "Y... you know about Ungula?"

"Certainly." Sorin smiled fondly. "A place of exquisite simplicity and tranquility amid the tumult of the planes. I often go there when I need to relax."

"Could you take me there?"

The vampire quirked an eyebrow. "Lost, are we? I suppose, but that would be two favors you owe me."

Ditzy pouted. "I don't suppose someone who so appreciates my home would be wiling to just help a friend?"

Sorin shook his head. "You need to stop thinking in such terms, little pegasus. Planeswalkers are not friends just because they can traverse the planes. It is better to think of our august group as a family, with all the bickering and disfunction that implies."

"Whatever you say, Uncle Sorin."

"Uncle? Well, now you're making me feel old," said the man who helped seal the Eldrazi in Zendikar in a bygone age. "Think of me as an older cousin, an aloof role model who offers you scraps of wisdom in exchange for a chance to marvel at him."

Ditzy's memories offered a brash blue filly with a distinctive mane. She smiled. "You remind me of somepony. Not quite a friend, but certainly somepony I was glad to know."

"I am glad of it." Sorin swept an arm towards the door. "Shall we, Cousin?"

"What about the... wolfir, did you call him?" Ditzy poked the paralyzed creature.

"A few inconvenient memories, without something so distinctive as a death? A trifle for one of Szadek's old tricks."

The pegasus let curiosity overwhelm any feelings she might have had towards the casual reference to her demise. "Who?"

Sorin smiled wide, always impressive from a vampire. "Ah, have I a story for you..."

Wolfir Inquisitor 4GG
Creature - Wolf Soldier
Protection from blue
When Wolfir Inquisitor enters the battlefield, put any number of target cards in a single graveyard on the bottom of their owner's library in any order.
Necro-alchemists fled deep into the Ulvenwald, hoping that no man would dare follow them. They were half right.
4/4

Author's Note

Rejected Title: Undying Morbid Flashback of a Fateful Hour's Soulbound Miracle

That said, I wouldn't be surprised if there's a Touhou game with something like that for a name...

Markov Distinction

Rainbow Dash loved her house. She'd crafted it with her own four hooves, knew it inside and out, and considered it among the top ten achievements of her young life. It was, in a sense, her baby, though she'd viciously disagree with anypony who used such terminology. As such, when she cycled the contents of the rainbow tank, a messy, dangerous chore for most, she did it gladly and enthusiastically.

"Friggin' son of a bat. If I didn't owe him another favor, he'd be on his ass and out of this dimension faster than he could blink."

Of course, just because Dash was happy to clean the free prismadicals out of her signature cloudscaping project didn't mean she was deaf to a friend in need. At least, one in need of a dose of awesomeness. Setting down the rainbow-stained pail in her hooves, she swooped down to her front door. A most disgruntled grey mare was stuffing letters in her mailbox like they had personally offended her.

Dash approached the situation with her usual grace and tact. "Yo, Ditzy Doo! You all right?"

Ditzy heaved a sharp sigh and fixed a manic grin on the weathermare. "Oh, fine, Dash. Just fan-friggin'-tastic. Supercalifragilisticexpiali-feathering-docious." She slammed the mailbox shut with as much volume as she could eke out of enchanted clouds.

"Uh huh." Dash gave her a flat look. "'Cause you angry and cursing up a storm is obviously par for the course."

Ditzy snorted at this. "You call this cursing? Please. I've heard stuff that could turn your mane white, filly."

"Yeah, yeah, you've been around the mopeyverse, we get it."

"Multiverse."

"Whatever. Point is, you're upset, and I hate seeing my friends upset." Dash went from annoyed to sympathetic in a blink. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Not unless you want to show Sorin—"

"Soarin'!?" Suddenly, Ditzy's field of vision was full of excited magenta eye. "You know him? He's coming to Ponyville? Oh, I am so there! When's he gettin' here?"

The mailmare backed up. "Whoa, whoa, this isn't—"

"Wait, what am I thinking?" Anxiety crept across Dash's face. "I can't see him like this! Look at me, I'm covered in rancid rainbow! I gotta get a shower, brush out my mane, maybe put on something nice..."

"Dash?" Ditzy tried to fit the panicking fanfilly before her into her mental framework of the Bearer of Loyalty. "You don't—"

"Sorry, Derpy, can't stay and chat! Too much to do! Thanks for tellin' me!" The blue mare flew through her front door. The multicolored stains she left behind were a testament to her forgetting to open it.

Ditzy shook her head. "Neither rain nor sleet nor irritating fillyhood nicknames." She continued on her rounds. Dash would figure it out soon enough.

"Hey, Pinkie?"

"Yes, Ditzy-Litzy?" asked the party pony, balancing Sugarcube Corner's mail on her head.

"Do you know Sorin Markov?"

Pinkie pondered this for a passel of picoseconds. "The vampire or the Wonderbolt? The answer's 'yes' either way, but it never hurts to check."

Ditzy sighed. "Tell that to Rainbow Dash." She frowned. "Wait, the Wonderbolt's last name is also Markov?"

"Sure!" Pinkie somehow nodded without upsetting her precariously perched parcels. "Youngest son of the Duchess of Cloudsdale, Frau Blucher Markov."

A startled whinny sounded from within the bakery. "Thin pot holder!" called Mr. Cake. "I'm okay!"

Ditzy paid him little mind. "Huh. Well this is going to make things even more confusing."

Pinkie beamed. "So Sorin-without-an-'a'-or-an-apostrophe is coming?"

"Yeah. You know him?" Ditzy shook her head. "What am I saying? Of course you know him. He's a millennia-old planeswalker, you're a millennia-old planeswalker, you must've run into one another at some point."

Pinkie giggled. "You could say that. In fact, you did say that! And you're right. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a recipe for black pudding muffins to dust off." She zipped back into the bakery.

Dity suppressed a gag as she continued her route. "Finally found one I won't eat. Well played, Pinkie."

An ashen gray unicorn trotted into Ponyville, heedless of the risen sun and any curious onlookers. The bright colors of Equestria were a welcome contrast to the relatively sullen palette of his home, even after Avacyn's return.

Sorin didn't mind the form this plane forced on him. He still had all the necessities: fangs, magic, devastating good looks. The horn-facilitated telekinesis meant he scarcely noticed the loss of fingers, and the sclera of his larger eyes were easily recolored with an illusion he'd mastered before this world had even been created.

Slightly more off-putting was the vanishing trousers phenomenon. Sorin had been wearing them before entering Ungula, and he knew from experience that they'd be on his person when he left, but he was presently ponily pantsless. At least he still had the rest of his ensemble. Longcoat, breastplate, bracers, all in place and suitably reshaped for his equine form.

Beneath Sorin's coattails was, of course, an image on his haunches. In his case, a wineglass filled with a red fluid with two white, feathered wings spread at the rim. Had anypony asked, he would've claimed to be a rich, eccentric oenophile. Only two of the townsfolk would recognize how the glass's stem and bowl, along with the spread wings, suggested a different shape entirely: Avacyn's Collar, symbol of the angel of hope.

The vampire reached the central square and looked around expectantly. He was vaguely disappointed by the marked lack of pegasi who owed him favors, but on the other hand, it gave him time to explore what entertainment the hamlet had to offer.

Sorin spotted what appeared to be a tavern, judging by the grapes-and-berry sign hanging above the door. He moved towards it with slightly less than dignified haste, brushing against a blue pegasus.

"Hey!" Suddenly, the pegasus stood between Sorin and his new watering hole. "Watch it, bucko!"

Under most circumstances, she would have died then and there, but the planeswalker was on vacation. He intended to relax, not annihilate. "Pardon me," he said smoothly. "I didn't notice you."

The mare quivered with barely restrained rage. "Didn't... notice!?"

Ah, mused Sorin, that sort. Can't stand to be anything other than the center of attention. What fun. He looked her over carefully, as though trying to place her in his mind. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

"Uh, yeah!" She leapt into the air. "You're talkin' to the one and only Rainbow Dash! Fastest flier in Equestria, performer of Sonic Rainbooms, future Wonderbolt. Ringing any bells?"

No response. After a moment, Dash realized that the arrogant stallion had walked beneath her and into the bar. He'd ignored her.

Just walked past.

Like she wasn't even there.

She slammed open the door to the Punch Bowl. "Hay, I'm not through with you!"

"Yes you are." The stallion had a wineglass in his magic and was contemplating the vintage's bouquet.

"Who in Tartarus do you think you are?" Dash demanded.

"I'm Sorin Markov." He saluted her with the glass. "Cheers."

As the unwinged, non-Wonderbolt jerkass emptied his glass, Rainbow Dash felt herself fill with rage. She wanted nothing more than to flatten the smug bastard's muzzle with a single well-placed hoof.

So she did.

At least, she tried to. With eyes still closed in contemplation, Sorin leaned back, avoided the strike, allowed Rainbow to overextend, and sent her into his lap with a gentle nudge against her unbalanced body. Holding her in place with his forelegs, he used his magic to set down his glass and draw a sword as long as him from the scabbard on his back. "Barkeep," he pondered aloud, "how familiar are you with this town's self-defense laws?"

Berry Punch scowled. "Look, buddy, I appreciate the early business, but I'd appreciate you not threatening one of the saviors of the world."

Sorin shrugged. Few things were worth making an enemy of a publican. "Fair enough."

He sheathed his blade, but did not yet release Dash. Instead, he leaned close to her ear and whispered, "I admit that I provoked you for my own amusement, but striking me would be incredibly ill advised. I have hunted down and slain entities vastly greater than you for less." He straightened up and released his hold on her. "Now, could you be a dear and tell Ditzy Doo that I've arrived?"

Dash scrambled out of his grip, dignity forgotten in favor of speed. She kept her gaze on the floor. "S-sure."

As the pegasus left the bar, Berry Punch frowned again. "Best not to mess with her, pal. Even if she doesn't dive bomb you later, she's friends with Celestia's personal student."

"Thank you, but I think I'll be able to manage." Sorin seemed far more interested in the bunches of bottles behind the bartender. "Could I get a glass of the Crystal Berry Bijoulais?"

Ditzy glided down to the post office, her rounds complete. She went through the motions automatically, hanging up her mailbag and hat, logging her completed route, all while her mind raced, trying to guess what Sorin might want and how to minimize the damage.

She only noticed Rainbow Dash entering the building when she heard herself ask, "How may I help you?" Apparently, she'd walked behind the front desk without even realizing it.

"I'll tell you what you can do," Dash all but shouted. "You can go tell that jerk calling himself Soarin' to go jam his horn where the sun don't shine!"

"Rainbow Dash, please calm down!" Twilight Sparkle trotted into the office. "Is this because I wasn't there to be your wingmare? I didn't want to embarrass you by showing up without any actual wings. It took me a few minutes to confirm that it was just an expression."

Ditzy knew she needed to clear up the misunderstanding before someone got impaled, whether by a broadsword or a hypersonic pegasus. Still, she couldn't help but ask, "Twilight? Really?"

Dash draped a protective wing over the unicorn. "Hay, don't knock my girl. She's got the eggheads of this town eating out of the frog of her hoof."

Twilight flushed as she extricated herself. "J-just because Processor Core paid me a compliment doesn't mean—"

"You see? Total stallions mare."

"Sure, why not. I take it you met Sorin?"

Dash slammed her forehooves on the desk. "That was not Soarin' Markov, Derpy! I don't care what he said, that was a feathering unicorn and a total ass to boot. No offense."

A recently hired donkey gave a weary grin as he adjusted his saddlebags. "None taken."

"So, aside from offending Benjamin, why come here?" asked Ditzy.

Dash moved off the desk and brought her gaze to the floor, muttering something.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Because he told me to. He had a freaking sword. What kind of pony has a sword?"

"One who isn't actually a pony." Ditzy looked to the unicorn. "How are you involved in this, Twilight?"

"Well, I now know that Dash considered me a suitable friend to aid her in a courtship attempt of a Wonderbolt, but—"

"Involved in revenging Dash's bruised ego, I mean."

"Hay!"

"A friend should always be ready to come to her friends' defense." It sounded rehearsed, as though Twilight were reciting from some unseen textbook.

"Uh huh. So, calling in the heavy artillery?" Ditzy nodded to herself, ignoring both mares' discomfort. "Sound strategy, really, but unnecessary. He came here because of me. He's my responsibility."

"You can't!" cried Twilight. "This stallion is clearly unstable. I was trained in pacification by Celestia herself; I can handle this."

"And I know Sorin—"

"That wasn't Soarin'!"

"I know this guy personally," countered Ditzy. She fluttered over the counter and the two Bearers. "If he wanted to, he could brush aside your spells, paralyze you, exsanguinate you, and make you thank him for the privilege. He's thousands of years old, has no scruples whatsoever, and could probably fight Celestia to a standstill." She made for the door.

The moment she opened it, Twilight teleported in front of her. "Then give me one good reason why I should let you go to him. Tell me what I should tell your daughter when she asks why her mommy is gone forever."

Ditzy grinned. "Simple. I'm his friend."

Like most vampires of Innistrad, Sorin Markov was a shameless hedonist, which meant that he did, in fact, drink... wine. And anything else that caught his fancy, as Berry Punch was discovering.

The bartender frowned at her customer. "Okay, fella." The words came reluctantly, but even Berry had her limits. "I think you've had enough for this early in the day."

"Bah!" Sorin shouted. "Bah and bah again! Is there not yet drink? Are you not beautiful? Why put off until tomorrow who or what I can do today?"

"'Cause if you keep drinking like there's no tomorrow, there ain't gonna be," Berry noted, her mulberry coat hiding her slight blush. "Not for you, and not for my stock."

"Ah, so it is supply that concerns you?" Sorin burst into laughter. "No matter at all! I own many vineyards! Vintages the likes of which you have never seen will be yours, I promise you!"

Berry rolled her eyes. "Yeah, great, some weak-ass unicorn spit, just what I need."

The insult bounced off of Sorin's alcohol-augmented ego. "Ah, the brewer's pride! How foolish of me! Of course, only the best will do for you, madam, and that means only your own." He leered. "And what other sweet nectars might you produce, my dear?"

Fortunately, Ditzy entered the bar just then, drawing Berry's attention away from the muzzle she was about to flatten. "Hi, Ms. Punch, sorry about this."

Sorin turned, overshooting a bit, his gaze drifting about Ditzy like a pendulum. His grin only widened. "Cousin! It has been far too long!" He swayed on the barstool. "Come, sit! Drink! Or at least hold still, for blood's sake."

"You know him?" Ditzy could hear Berry's opinion of her drop with that question.

"He's actually Address's cousin," the pegasus lied with regrettably well-practiced ease. "Something of a black sheep."

"I can't imagine why," Berry deadpanned.

"Come, Cousin!" boomed the vampony, staggering to his hooves. "We will go see big Equestrian titties!"

Ditzy wrinkled her muzzle in confusion. "...So, the milkmare of Trottingham?"

Sorin stared at her for a moment before a flash of realization manage to shine through the wine. "Right! Ponies! I knew that!"

Ditzy sighed and shook her head. "Come on. Let's get you out of here before you raise any more unpleasant questions."

"Bah! A third time, no less! If you were not prepared to explain the unexplainable, you should never have put down roots. It is against your nature!"

"How's your daughter, by the way?"

Berry didn't know why the stallion shut up at that, but he did. She gave a grateful nod to Ditzy as they left and pondered whether to ask her about her niece in the future.

Nah, it seemed personal. No more Berry's business than Ruby was Ditzy's.

"Cousin," Sorin slurred, "I have come to an alarming conclusion."

"Oh?" Ditzy listened with half an ear, paying more attention to keeping the vampire from walking into anypony or anything.

"I realize this may come as shocking news, but I appear to be drunk."

Ditzy didn't bother holding back the smirk. Sorin wouldn't notice, too focused on determining which of the several roads swimming in his vision was the one he was actually walking on. "And whatever gave you that impression?"

"I distinctly recall attempting to seduce a horse."

"Pony," corrected Ditzy. "We're kind of particular about that."

"So you are!" Sorin cried far too loudly. "In any case, irregardless of whether or not the event in place actually took question..." He reflected on the sentence thus far. "Or possibly vice versa. Anyway, that does not matter! What does matter is that the event is in my memory, and that is a clear sign that I have had far more alcohol than is good for me."

Ditzy snickered. "Right. Sorin Markov shouldn't have to seduce anypony. He can get any mare he wants."

The vampony drew himself up proudly. "Damn right!" Then the actual words of the praise registered. "Though I prefer women."

"Of course."

"Still, the point is..." Sorin scowled. "The point is... what was the point?"

"You're drunk," Ditzy said helpfully.

"Am I?"

"You tried to seduce a pony."

Sorin considered this. "Was that before or after the horse?"

"Concurrently."

"Really? Damn, I'm good."

"So, what are you going to do about it?" asked Ditzy.

"Fortu... fortuna..." Sorin took a moment to get his tongue in order. "Fortunatuitously, I have devised a spell of my own devisement. It will cleanse the toxins from my system and leave me in a state of relative sobriety."

Ditzy quirked an eyebrow. "'Relative' sobriety?"

Sorin's answering glare was as indignant as if the pegasus had insulted his mother. "You don't expect me to give up the whole damn buzz, do you? By Olivia's suspicious loins, I'm not letting all that work go to waste!"

"Work," Ditzy echoed, letting the irony hang in the air.

Either ignoring or not noticing, Sorin pressed on. "Now, while I distinctly recall the spell working, I do not recall how. Nor do I know if there will be any complications from casting it as a horse."

"Pony."

"That too. You may want to stand back a ways."

Ditzy's ears went flat as she contemplated why. "Should you be doing this in public? In the middle of the street?"

"Valid point. I may hit someone attractive." Sorin turned, tripped, and collapsed with lordly dignity. "Help me back up. Noblesse oblige oblige-igates me to do this away from the peasantry."

Other ponies looked on in disapproval as Ditzy nudged the lush back to his hooves. "They really don't like being called 'the peasantry,' you know. Especially not that loudly."

If anything, Sorin's response was even louder. "You have a princess. They're commoners. Ergo, they are the peasantry. That's how this sort of things works." He staggered towards an alley. "It's not my fault if they take issue with such terms. I have no problem with peasants. Damned useful people, peasants. Thankless work, but someone's got to do it."

"Yes, yes, everypony's gone serfing." Ditzy looked about. "Well, I don't think anypony will notice us here. Go ahead."

"Go ahead with what?"

"Your sobriety spell."

"I know a sobriety spell?" Sorin's eyes widened, horrified. "Why would I learn that? Next you're going to tell me some idiot freed the Eldrazi." He frowned. "Oh wait. Some idiot did. Damned elf."

"I won't ask."

"Good. Now stand back." The unicorn dimmed. Though it was near noon, he seemed illuminated by moonlight filtered through deep cloud cover. Tangible shadows twisted and writhed about his horn. His eyes, which had been closed in focus, snapped open, the illusion gone, the yellow irises on black sclera fully visible. He opened his mouth, fangs at their full extension, surreal among the teeth of a grazer. He exhaled, releasing a miasmic cloud of toxins, colorless but rippling in the air like a heat haze.

After a beat, Sorin blinked, the whites of his eyes once more white. "There, now," he said, satisfied and far more intelligible.

Ditzy shied away from the cloud. To her eyes, it was awash in black magic, like an especially noxious smoke cloud. "I can see why you told me to stay back."

"Indeed." Sorin contemplated the mass of vaporized alcohol as it eased its way to ground level. "Thank you for ensuring that I did this out of the public view. I can't imagine the locals would appreciate someone belching out great gouts of poison along the main thoroughfare."

"Generally not, no." Ditzy shifted on her hooves. Now seemed as good a time as any. "So, how did you want to call in that second favor?"

"To business so soon?" Sorin turned, an amused smirk on his lips. "Are you that eager to be rid of me, Cousin?"

"After making such a spectacle of yourself that I won't be able to show my face at the local watering hole for weeks?"

"I thought you didn't drink."

Ditzy scowled. "If your visit thus far is anything to go on, I'm going to have plenty of reason to start."

This got a chuckle. "Fair point," Sorin conceded. "Still, the matter is a fairly simple one. I've heard tell that the second princess has returned from her exile. Is this true?"

"It is."

"Excellent. Take me to her."

Ditzy paused for a moment. "I'm sorry, I must have misheard you. I thought you just asked me to take you to Princess Luna."

"I did."

Remain calm, the pegasus told herself. "Why would you think I would be able to do that?"

Sorin shrugged. "Can you?"

"Well, yes, actually."

"Then what's the problem?"

"That maybe, just maybe, I may have a slight problem getting access to the goddess of the moon? The princess of the night?" Despite her earlier thoughts, Ditzy was growing more frantic with every word. "Younger diarch of the nation, with a twenty-four/seven guard detail, to say nothing of the extra scrutiny she must be under given the whole 'going insane and trying to plunge the world into eternal night' issue?"

"Is that what happened? I never was able to get a straight answer out of Celestia."

"You... spoke with Celestia? At the time?"

Sorin quirked an eyebrow at her. "I have told you my age, haven't I?"

"Yeah, but..." Ditzy struggled for words for a moment. "It's... It's one thing to know you were going from plane to plane for thousands of years. It's another to think of you... well, here. In Equestria. Talking with Celestia."

"Ah. Yes. We often draw a line between our home and the rest of the Multiverse. For a planeswalker, any manner of 'here' and 'there' is a comfort, but it is an illusory one. As you said, I have been travelling between the planes for millennia. I have been visiting Ungula since shortly after it stabilized itself in space and time, when Celestia and Luna were but foals trying to regather their wits after subduing Discord."

"Oh." Ditzy opened her mouth several times, but shut it without speaking. Finally, she asked, "Then why ask me to come along?"

Sorin grinned. "In all those years of carousing, I've found it best to have a designated teetotaler to rein in the rest of us. Guess who that's going to be."

Ditzy stood for a moment, processing the ramifications. Sorin shouldered past her as she thought. Finally, she bolted out of the alley, shouting, "Get back here, Markov! You are not tempting the moon goddess into debauchery!"

Heedless of the staring passersby, Sorin called back, "My dear cousin, what makes you think she'll need tempting?"

Sorin, the Prodigal 2BB
Planeswalker — Sorin
+1: You may draw a card. If you do, you lose 1 life.
-X: You lose X life. Exile the top X cards of your library face down. At the beginning of the next end step, put those cards into your hand.
-7: Each player's life total becomes the lowest life total among all players.
3

Author's Note

Processor Core, in case you're wondering, is the name I settled on for the stallion with the robot cutie mark who Rarity sweet talks out of his asparagus in "Putting Your Hoof Down." I considered naming him Minovsky Particle, but really, who names their kid Minovsky?

Forced Tuition

Rainbow Dash galloped through Ponyville, eyes wide and full of atavistic panic. This was not a person enjoying the feeling of the wind in her mane. This was a prey animal fleeing from a terrible fate. She paid no mind to the ponies who scattered in front of her. She spared no thought for those who panicked in her wake, wondering what could have so reduced one of Ponyville's great heroines. She poured all she was into escape, hooves throwing divots of hard-packed dirt out of the road as she reached her goal.

Dash managed enough presence of mind to lead her impact into the door with a shoulder. She still slammed into it, but at least she didn't concuss herself. She scratched at the unyielding portal like a desperate cat.

The door opened outwards, and she slipped through the gap before the pony on the other side could get a word out. Dash trotted through the building, pace slowing as the adrenaline drained out of her system. She was safe. She was clear. By the time she reached the door she was looking for, she even knocked.

"Come in."

Dash did, closing the door behind her, leaning against it, and panting for breath.

Ditzy Doo sighed. "I should've seen this coming."

Dash blinked. "You..." she panted, "you knew... this... would happen?"

"Well, yeah. Here I am, thinking about how a desk job is kind of dull compared to being the town's whole post office, and in comes something interesting." Ditzy moved out from behind her desk and approached Dash. "I might as well have thought 'I am invincible! Nothing can stop me now!'" She sat beside the other pegasus. "Now, why you came in here all a-flutter, that I don't know. What seems to be the problem?"

Dash looked away, her chest not heaving as much. "You know how a few weeks ago, I realized how reading wasn't entirely lame?"

Ditzy smirked. "The whole town knows, Rainbow."

"Well... yeah." Dash was still for a moment. "So anyway, after that, the other girls started giving books they thought I'd like. And one..." She gulped. "She's being really pushy."

Ditzy considered this. After a moment, she asked, "Pinkie Pie?"

Dash shook her head. "Nah, Pinkie's been cool. Though Twilight went a little nuts when she said she had books that hadn't been published yet. Something about paradoxes. Pinkie says she doesn't have any Daring Do books, so I don't see what the big deal is."

"Rarity, then? I can't imagine her taste lines up much with yours."

Dash nodded. "You're right there. It's all harness-rippers and junk. Totally not cool. Or hot. They're, like, lukewarm. But she hasn't been forcing them on me."

"Okay, who then?"

Dash slumped until her head was on the carpet. "Fluttershy?"

Ditzy blinked a few times, then shook her head. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Not only is she being at all pushy, she's terrifying you?"

Dash bolted to her hooves, wings flared. "Hey, I am not terrified!"

Ditzy quirked an eyebrow. "Dash, I heard you coming from a mile away. I think a little dust fell from the rafters."

"Well, I couldn't fly. My contrail is awesome, but it's not exactly stealthy, and if I go slow enough that I don't leave rainbows, that's slower than galloping." Dash nodded at this flawless reasoning.

Ditzy stood as well. "You're running from Fluttershy. Even if you do leave a contrail, you'll be several times faster than she is."

Dash snorted. "Yeah, and where would I go? I can't just hide in a cloud. Shy's known me most of my life; she knows where I'd go, and she'd catch up. She may not be fast, but she's persistent; she could fly cross-country."

"Which is why you came here."

"Exactly." Dash patted Ditzy on the withers. "I needed somepony I could count on, but who I usually don't."

"Gee, thanks."

"No problem," Dash said with a grin.

Ditzy rolled her eyes for some reason. "So, what horrors is Fluttershy inflicting upon you?"

Dash heaved a sigh. "Okay, so you know that time she was helping me find a pet?" Dash tilted her head. "And, uh, you were in her henhouse for some reason?"

Ditzy tilted her head towards a closet door. "I'm working on a shortcut between here and my attic. There have been some hiccups along the way."

"Um..." Dash shrugged her wings. "Cool, I guess? Anyway, you know how at first, she was recommending all these cutesy, lame animals."

"So her reading recommendations are going the same way?"

"No." Dash shuddered. "Too far the other way."

Ditzy tilted her head. "What, too awesome?"

"Too horrifying!" Dash leaned in close. "Nature is terrifying, Ditzy Doo."

"For example?"

"Spiders that catch birds. Heck, spiders in general. I could've had a long, happy life without knowing how those things eat. And then there's the bugs that eat fish tongues and the wasps that lay their eggs in caterpillars and the dolphins! Sweet Celestia, the dolphins. I thought dolphins were like the Pinkie Pies of the ocean or something, but..." Dash shook her head. "If Pinkie ever ends up like that, we're all in big trouble."

Ditzy quriked an eyebrow. "Didn't you fight a manticore once?"

"That was before I found out what their venom did!"

Ditzy gave her a flat look. "Dash, I was bitten by a spawnwrithe once. A cow-sized leech with six snakes for heads would've burst out of my abdomen if I hadn't been able to neutralize the magical poison, and at least that would've been faster than giving birth to Dinky. You're going to have to pardon me if I'm a bit less than sympathetic. Just tell Fluttershy you want her to tone it down."

Dash shook her head. "It's not that easy. This... If you saw how Shy looks when she's reading these things, she's just so happy." A grin crept over her muzzle. "She's not worried, she's not afraid, she's not cringing on the inside. Everything she shows me, she thinks it's the coolest thing since the Immelmare turn." She drooped. "Telling her I don't like the books would be like kicking the world's saddest puppy."

Ditzy sighed. "Look, you never seeing Fluttershy again isn't a viable solution here. You two are kind of essential to national security."

"I know. That's why I came to you."

"Uh..." Ditzy tilted her head. "I'm not following you."

"Don't know if you noticed, but there aren't exactly a lot of Cloudsdalers in Ponyville. Out of everypony in town, you're the one who's known Shy the longest. Plus, you're..." Dash trailed off. "Well, yrbtrnmthhtcth."

Ditzy leaned closer. "Say again?"

"You're..." Dash gritted her teeth and groaned. "You're better than me at the whole 'tact' thing! There!"

Ditzy patted her on the withers. "I know that took a lot, Dash."

Dash looked away. "Shouldn't have. You're better than me at a lot of stuff."

"And vice versa. I know I'd never be able to bear Loyalty."

"Ah, come on." Dash nudged Ditzy with a wing. "You're super-loyal."

Ditzy turned her gaze to the floor and muttered, "Yeah, nothing says loyalty like abandoning your grieving mother and waiting years after you return to reestablish contact with her."

"Okay, this is officially becoming a pity party, and trust me, the last thing we want is a depressed Pinkie Pie."

"How would Pinkie even..." Ditzy trailed off and shook her head. "I can't believe I'm even asking that question."

"So, are you gonna help me with Fluttershy?"

"Sure."

Dash beamed. "Awesome."

"So, when are we going to talk to her?"

"Oh. Right. That." Dash coughed into a fetlock. "So, what's a spawnwrithe look like, anyway?"

Ditzy paused before saying, "Well, hypothetically speaking, if I did show you, you would be quite repulsed by it. Especially when I mentioned that it embodies the concept of reproduction, at which point you would declare sex ruined for you now and forever. Then you would ask me to wipe your memory of the image."

Dash gave her own flat stare. "None of that was hypothetical, was it?"

Ditzy looked down and ruffled her wings. "No, no it wasn't. Sorry."

"Well, I guess as long as you only do it with my permission..." Dash narrowed her eyes. "You have only ever done it with my permission, right?"

"Of course! Unlike some mages I could name, I don't see memory erasure as the solution to all life's problems." Ditzy brought a hoof to her chin. "Though I do have an idea that may work for your current situation."

Dash took a step back. "Yeah?"

"It's..." Ditzy sucked a breath through her teeth. "Well, morally dubious. At best. I'll only do it if you say it's okay."

Dash thought about it for all of two seconds. "Will it hurt Fluttershy's feelings?"

Ditzy shook her head. "Not if we do it right."

"Then it's okay."

Dash knocked on the cottage door. Not too hard, but not so soft that Fluttershy couldn't hear it. There was an art to this, and Dash liked to think she was a master.

A few moments later, Fluttershy emerged and smiled. "Oh. Hello, Rainbow Dash. I was looking for you earlier."

"Oh, really?" Dash gave a completely natural and easygoing laugh. "How about that?"

Fluttershy shied back a step. "Are you... feeling alright? I'd hate to bother you if you were feeling sick."

"Well..."

Fluttershy zipped next to Dash and felt her forehead. "Do you feel well enough to fly home? Oh, I know just the book to read that will make you feel all better. It's all about the most fascinating internal parasites and—"

Dash backed up a bit and held up her forehooves. "Shy, I'm fine. I appreciate it, but really, A-OK."

"Oh." Fluttershy beamed. "Wonderful. Though I think you'd really like that book anyway. Why don't you come in and we can read it together?"

Dash opened her mouth, an explanation right on the tip of her tongue. Really. Seriously. It just happened come out as "That sounds ni—" Then she was cut off midword.

Fluttershy blinked, staring at Dash, whose jaw was locked open. "Rainbow?"

And a voice in Dash's mind said, Yeah, this is too painful to watch. Taking control now.

Dash cleared her throat. "'Sorry, Shy. I'm sure you really love that book, but... well, I'm not quite as into parasites as you are."

"Oh." Fluttershy folded into herself. "I see."

"I'd still love to read something with you! And it's really cool that you love everything about nature equally. Just remember that some ponies..." Dash bit her lip. "Well, they don't."

"Well..." Fluttershy thought for a moment "I did just get this fascinating book on the evolutionary history of griffins. I haven't looked through it much myself, but—"

"Sounds perfect."

Can you take it from here?

Totally. Thanks, Ditzy.

Dash felt the slight sense of pressure on the back of her head lift. Ditzy said that's how she'd know when the control spell was removed. With a smile, she said, "So, let's go read."

Fluttershy returned the grin. "You know, I also have a book on tortoises I think you'd really enjoy."

"Pfft. Please. Like there's anything I don't already know about tortoises."

Primal Terror 3(bg)(bg)(bg)
Enchantment
As long as it's your turn, creatures you control have intimidate.
As long as it's not your turn, creatures you control have deathtouch.
Fluttershy, like nature itself, has hidden, horrifying depths.

Author's Note

A Fluttershy that loves all living things is a very fun Fluttershy indeed.

Griffins have as much evolutionary history as any other race on Ungula—that is, none—but Discord slipped in a full fossil record as a delayed-release practical joke.

A Sly Toll Tot

Note: The following chapter is a continuation of Lithl's Fblthp is Totally Lost, which is itself a continuation of the canon Magic: the Gathering short story Fblthp, which, in turn, was inspired by the card Totally Lost. Reading the earlier stories in what I like to call the Fblthp Saga is strongly recommended, both so you can understand what's going on and because Fblthp is best homunculus.

Ral Zarek shook his head, trying to regather his bearings. He hadn't expected to take a passenger with him when he escaped that self-righteous arrester on Ravnica. He certainly hadn't expected said passenger to force him into a nearby plane.

Still, the unexpected was where the Izzet League thrived. Already, Ral's mind filled with possible experiments. Was it only little Thblpt's small size relative to his own that had allowed it to hitch a ride, or could he take anything with him through the Blind Eternities? He'd have to get in touch with the Simic Combine, arrange some standard size gradation for test subjects. Oh, they'd grumble a little, and he'd have to keep his reasons sufficiently vague, but surely the potential knowledge would be enough to sway the more conservative research guild.

A sound like a balloon popping in reverse reminded Ral that he was not alone with his thoughts. His vision was now oddly distorted, as though looking out from the inside of a glass sphere. His surroundings finally registered, a quaint little domicile, the sort that the unguilded would fight tooth and nail to call their own.

A female voice, presumably that of the resident, grumbled behind him. "Of course this would happen here and now. It's my day off. I might as well have stuck a sign on the outside of the plane. 'Planeswalker shenanigans welcome. Inquire within.'"

Ral's thoughts raced. Bad news: He'd surprised a mage of not inconsiderable power, and she knew of planeswalkers. Good news: Her first impulse was to trap him, not kill him. Also, she used the word "shenanigans." No one with a vocabulary that whimsical could be all bad.

The speaker stepped into view. To say the least, she was not what Ral had been expecting. Nude for one, though the coat of hair made that point debatable. The lazy eye hadn't been in his mental image either, nor had the wings.

Oh, and she was a small horse. A pegasus, technically, but wings or no, who expects a talking magical horse?

The talking magical horse scowled at her captive. "Judging by your accessories, you either work with or stole from the Izzet League, which means you might be reasonable, for a given definition of reason. As such, you have thirty seconds to explain why you planeswalked into my living room, starting now."

Ral smirked. He'd avoided one prison. Surely he could bust out of a second. A brief attempt revealed that he couldn't move anything from the neck down, but that was what mental commands were for. A moment's thought purged the capacitors of his elemental gauntlets. All he had to now was sit back and let the lightning tear through the bubble.

At least, so went the theory. In practice, nothing seemed to happen for a few seconds, until the electricity, having nowhere else to go, surged through Ral's body. He wasn't foolish enough to strap an unstable mana battery to his arm without some protective wards, but it still hurt worse than a Gnat Alley hangover.

His captor waited for the convulsions to die down before shaking her head. "You now have twenty seconds. Use them wisely."

Fblthp shook with terror. He had no idea where he was, what was going on, or why he was surrounded by horses. Yes, the horses seemed nice and one had poured him a cup of tea, but they were still impossibly colorful, and the tea pourer was doing so with magic focused through a bony protrusion on her forehead that looked menacingly sharp. Also, the hot liquid came distressingly close to him as it flowed into a teacup that came up to his waist.

The other, louder, even more brightly colored horse, a pegasus unlike any Fblthp had ever heard of, had gone off to fetch something called a "Fluttershy." The homunculus found it all too easy to imagine what manner of terrifying implement the dread "Fluttershy" could be, too afraid to focus on the purple horse's questions.

Nothing prepared him for the truth. The rainbow pegasus returned with another of its kind. Once again, the pictures Fblthp had seen failed to match the yellow and pink live specimen before him. He tried to hide behind the teacup. At least the purple horn-horse hadn't done anything hostile. Yet.

"So, yeah, we don't know what the heck this thing is, and we were hoping you would." Apparently Rainbow Horse was telling the newcomer about Fblthp.

"I see." Hoofbeats approached the cowering homunculus. "Um, hello?" A gentle voice graced Fblthp's ears, so unlike the brash impatience and overwhelming eagerness of the others. "What's your name?"

"Great," moaned Rainbow Horse. "Here we go again."

Fblthp was similarly resigned, but answered "Fluttershy's" question nonetheless.

"Hello, Fblthp." The homuculus turned to face the mare, still keeping the teacup between them. She... she had actually pronounced his name correctly. No one had ever done that. Ever. "It's very nice to meet you," the pegasus continued. "I'm Fluttershy."

Fblthp hesitantly asked a question. To two of the ponies, it sounded like a meaningless heap of spittle and consonants.

Fluttershy's smile grew in an amazingly unthreatening way. "Why, of course I can understand you. I've never heard an accent as exotic as yours before, but communicating with other creatures is part of my special talent."

Exotic. No one had ever called Fblthp exotic before. He slowly moved away from behind his ceramic cover, voicing another mushmouthed question.

"Well, I don't know," Fluttershy replied. "Where is your home?"

This was met with a hastier response that the other mares would've sworn was just one big raspberry.

"I see." Fluttershy looked to her friends. "Girls, I'm afraid we're going to need Ditzy Doo."

"Couldn't we use Pinkie?" asked Rainbow Dash.

Twilight shook her head. "Think of how afraid Drbpltz—"

"Fblthp," Fluttershy corrected.

The unicorn paused for a moment. "Think of how afraid our guest has been just meeting us. Do you really think it—"

"He."

"He will be able handle Pinkie?"

Dash nodded. "Good point. Let's go see Ditzy."

Fluttershy looked back at Fblthp. He was hiding behind the teacup again. Not very effectively, but she recognized the effort he was putting into making himself look as inconspicuous as possible. "It's okay, Fblthp. Ditzy Doo is one of the nicest ponies I know."

"You absolute buffoon!" cried Ditzy. "Of all of the thoughtless, impulsive, inane, idiotic actions I've ever... I have met goblins with better judgement than you!"

"Oh, it's not that bad," said Ral.

"Not that bad?" Ditzy echoed. "Not that bad!? You planeswalked in front of how many people?"

The guildmage reflected on this for a moment before hazarding a guess. "Thirty?"

"Explain to me how brazenly exiting the universe in front of more than two dozen witnesses is 'not that bad'!"

"Well, I had planned on returning as soon as possible, let them assume I'd just teleported to some secret laboratory somewhere." Ral looked pointedly about his prison. "Of course, the longer you hold me here, the less tenable that plan is going to be."

"And when word gets to Niv-Mizzet? When the dragon decides to look into the matter?"

"If. And a very shaky if at that." The scientist smirked. "The Firemind has far greater concerns than one guildmage's indiscretions. Especially now."

"UGH!" Ditzy stomped about the room, trying to burn off her rage before she did something she'd regret. "Of all the stubborn, short-sighted, boneheaded—"

"DITZY DOO!"

"Huh?" The pegasus turned to see an indignant Twilight Sparkle. "Oh, hi, Twilight. How did you get here?"

"Your door was unlocked," answered Rainbow Dash, walking in with Fluttershy.

Twilight sputtered with anger. "Of all the ponies, and of all the insensitive terms, I never thought you would—"

"Wait, what? Oh!" Ditzy chuckled. "No, no, no, you've got it all wrong. He's not even a unicorn!"

Ral quirked an eyebrow at this. "I should think that was obvious."

Dash tilted her head, examining the captive. "So, you hiding a pair of wings somewhere, or are you just delusional?"

"Wonderful place you have here, Miss Doo," drawled Ral. "Great hospitality, polite villagers, everything someone could ask for."

Twilight still glared at Ditzy. The pegasus felt her ears go back and bowed her head. "I really didn't mean 'bonehead' in the sense you thought I did, Twilight. He's, well, not from around here."

"And how."

Ditzy shed all signs of submissiveness. "Shut up, Zarek."

"Well, I guess I can't begrudge you if you didn't mean it as a tribalist slur." Twilight looked to the Izzet. "Though it's still... well, weird."

Ral sighed. "I'm beginning to feel like an exhibit at the zoo. Is this really necessary? And what's gotten purplecorn in a snit?"

Twilight scowled. "Purplecorn? Isn't that a bit hypocritical?"

"How so? Am I a purple unicorn?"

Confusion flickered across Twilight's face for a moment. With a thought, she called forth a full-body mirror in front of the prison. "See for yourself."

Ral observed the image before him with all the scrutiny he could muster. Sure enough, looking back at him was a purple unicorn. One with a spiky white mane, familiar technomagical apparatuses, and an utterly baffled expression. "This... this has to be a trick. This isn't my reflection. Unless it is, in which case this is the most wonderfully bizarre plane I've ever visited."

Ditzy savored a little schadenfreude before a thought struck her. "What brought you here, anyway?" she asked the other actual ponies.

Fluttershy, of all ponies, answered her. "Well, your guest isn't the only, um, out-of-towner we have." She flicked an ear. "It's okay, you can come out."

Fblthp poked his head out of Fluttershy's mane. He offered a small wave at the third pegasus and the unicorn who apparently was Ral Zarek. That made no sense whatsoever, but he was an Izzet. The homunculus has often heard it said that they were as crazy as the Cult of Rakdos; it was just that when the Izzet blew up entire city blocks, it was by accident. Usually. In any case, Fblthp was staying with Fluttershy, where it was safe. Kind of high up, but safe.

Ditzy came closer. "Who's that?"

Who, noted Fblthp. Not what, who.

"This is Fblthp. He's very, very lost."

Ditzy smirked. "And how."

"Hypocrite."

"Don't push me, science boy."

"Ditzy, please, he scares very easily." Fluttershy pouted.

"Sorry, Fluttershy. I take it you want me to send him home?"

"Could you?"

"Sure, it's actually really easy." Ditzy considered the trapped stallion. "I suppose I should send you back as well."

"Oh, I don't want you to trouble yourself."

"No, it's fine. I insist."

Dash rolled her eyes. "You two gonna flirt all day or what?"

"I... I am doing nothing of the sort!" Ral sputtered.

"Ugh." Ditzy shook her head. "Well, that's all the impetus I need to get started." Her eyes glowed blue and a soft breeze began to swirl around her. Faint, ribbon-like shapes drifted in the wind as it picked up speed. The air howled for a moment, and the wisps of magic collapsed onto the mare's forehooves, leaving flowing, glowing glyphs.

"A tactile ætheric dismissal effect?" asked Ral. "Interesting."

"That's what it is?" Twilight trotted next to Ditzy, closely examining the pegasus's hooves. "Fascinating. I've been meaning to look into magics that function on an extraplanar level, but this is the first time I've had the chance."

Ral beamed. "A scholar! Marvelous! Now why couldn't I have popped into your house?"

"Right, that's enough out of you two." Ditzy shoved a glowing hoof through the mini-universe and into the guildmage's snout. The latter vanished and the former collapsed.

Twilight pouted at this. "Hay! That was hardly necessary!"

"Twilight, imagine a dragon smart enough to make you look like a drooling idiot and vain enough to make pre-Luna Trixie seem like Fluttershy. And this is all in addition to being a dragon. That's who that guy works for."

Fluttershy gave an "eep!" and hid behind Rainbow Dash. Fblthp tried patting her head.

Ditzy turned her attention to the homunculus. "Now, I believe it's your turn... What's his name?"

"Don't ask," Dash sighed.

The grey mare shrugged and extended her hoof towards Fblthp. Time slowed to a crawl for the tiny creature. Once that leg touched him, he'd be back home. Back to his sweeping. Back to avoiding countless feet walking through the Forum of Azor. Back to involuntarily helping Arrester Parisha with her terrifying duties.

He ducked just before the hoof made contact.

Ditzy blinked. "Huh. Well, that's odd. It's not going to hurt, little friend."

Fblthp mumbled something into Fluttershy's ear. She unrolled herself from her dragon-inspired cowering, eyes down. "Um, Fblthp says he doesn't want to go back."

"Why not?" asked Twilight. "Doesn't he want to go home and be with his friends?"

Again Fluttershy translated the homunculus's response, "Well, he doesn't really have a lot of friends, and most of the ones he has ask him to do very frightening things. He much prefers it here, where it's peaceful and... there isn't much to sweep?" She looked at Fblthp as she said this last part, unsure if she heard him correctly. He nodded his confirmation.

Ditzy shrugged, allowing the symbols on her legs to fade. "If that's his choice, I'm okay with it."

That evening, Fluttershy opened the door to her cottage. "And this is your new home, Fblthp, where you'll be able to make lots and lots of friends." She knelt down, allowing the homunculus to ease his way to the floor. "Do you need anything right now?"

Fblthp shook his head. He'd been shown greater kindness today than the rest of his life put together! What more could he possibly need?

Something white flickered in his peripheral vision. He turned to behold a rabbit. At least that looked like its picture, though this one seemed much... angrier, somehow.

"Angel," Fluttershy cooed, "say hello to our new friend."

Angel? It looked nothing like the picture of angels Fblthp had once seen. Hopefully, it was just a name. Still, he waved cautiously, in case the rabbit-shaped creature was hiding a divine broadsword somewhere.

It offered a slow nod. Well met, child of another world. If your intentions are pure, you are welcome here. If not, I will destroy you without hesitation.

Fblthp turned back to Fluttershy, eye wide and terrified.

"Go on, don't be shy." The pegasus giggled at hearing herself say that.

Fblthp had always hated crowds, but at that moment, he was the shiest he'd ever been.

Ral Zarek had been fortunate. Exceedingly fortunate. As he'd predicted, Niv-Mizzet had heard nothing of the arrest attempt. The dragon was enraptured by his overarching metaproject that had the entire guild scrambling to answer his seemingly arbitrary inquiries. He hadn't even noticed Ral had left, much less returned.

That meant the planeswalker had a bit of free time on his hands, and he knew exactly how he wanted to spend it. He strode through the mirrored halls of Nivix with purpose, his eyes shining like arc lamps with curiosity.

Ral soon reached his destination, a room containing several variably successful Izzet inventions. He zeroed in on one misshapen heap of brass and mizzium that came up to his shoulders and was half again as wide. Judging by the sheer complexity of its inner workings, visible through a glass hemisphere, it was either an elaborate astrolabe or an even more elaborate hookah. Kneeling, he grasped a handle at the base with one gauntleted hand, feeding mana into the contraption.

Rings began to turn. Liquids began to flow. Pendulums began to swing. Soon, every piece within the glass globe was in motion. Smoke began to emanate from within, tossed and churned as it filled the space, obscuring the armatures and leaving only a hypnotic, milky haze.

Ral nodded in satisfaction. The Divinitory Transreliquat (also known as the Mechanicoracle or, among the goblins, the "What If?" Machine,) was warmed up and ready for a question. He spoke slowly and clearly into the acousticatcher.

"What if ponies lived in Ravnica?"

Cosmic Isolation 2WU
Enchantment — Aura
Enchant creature or planeswalker
Enchanted permanent has shroud.
Enchanted permanent's activated abilities can't be activated. If enchanted permanent is a creature, it can't attack or block.
If you wish to imprison a planeswalker, you must first create a universe.

Fast, Fine, Fierce

Ponyville was started by farmers, and in many ways, it was still a farming community at heart. Many Ponyvillians still rose with the sun, Rainbow Dash notwithstanding. Ditzy Doo was one of them, a habit ingrained in her after years of early morning deliveries. Thus, she was already out and about when other communities would still be rubbing sleep out of their collective eyes, and when an increasingly familiar lyre arpeggio that only she could hear sounded in her ear, she could respond it with her usual alacrity.

She very carefully didn't stop. The thing about sensations that only one pony noticed was that since nopony else could detect them, nopony would understand any reactions to them. A fairly obvious lesson, one Ditzy had exploited in the past with selectively perceptible illusions, but one she'd been forced to relearn from the other end. The less said about how she'd ended up in that well on Spike's birthday, the better.

In any case, she betrayed nothing to the hypothetical observer, heading to Bonbon's Bonbons without haste or hesitation.

Ditzy opened the door, and here she allowed a bit of the facade to slip. Just enough to offer an apologetic grin to the mare behind the counter. "Hi, Bonbon."

"Good morning, Ditzy." Bonbon met the pegasus's grin with a weary one of her own. "Let me guess, Lyra asked you to come over today and forgot to tell me. Again."

"Well... yeah." It was technically true, thought Ditzy, just not in the timeframe Bonbon meant.

The confectioner leaned over the counter, ears flat with anxiety. "Ditzy, you'd tell me if you... if she were..." Bonbon looked down for a moment as she gathered her courage. Finally, she asked, "You two aren't... doing anything down there, are you?"

Bonbon wasn't exactly Ditzy's closest friend, but she was still had the grey mare's respect. As such, Ditzy managed to hold off for about five seconds before bursting into laughter.

"I'm serious!" Bonbon cried.

"I... I'm sorry," Ditzy managed. "It's just... oh, thank Celestia it's early. Imagine if you had customers."

Bonbon scowled. "Well, I wouldn't have asked then."

"Look, Bonbon, if you think I would do anything that would put my marriage at risk, then Lyra may not be the crazy one in your relationship." Ditzy winked as she made for the basement.

Bonbon sighed once the pegasus moved out of earshot. "Well, so much for that threesome."

In Lyra's subterranean lair, Ditzy groaned as she saw the agent's hangdog expression. "Oh, what now?"

Lyra sighed, lay back in her recliner, and rubbed her temples. "Where to begin..."

"The beginning?"

This got a smirk. "By now you should know it's never that simple in the ETSAB."

"Point." Ditzy pondered a bit further. "Okay, why is this so important? You only ever call me in when you need the big guns."

"Bear in mind that I'm oversimplifying to a hideous degree," prefaced Lyra. "If Executive Officer Ways ever heard what I'm about to say, he'd probably slap me silly, then die of shame.

"Anyway, we detected movement between two of the Zero-Zero splays, which are as fundamental as their numbering implies."

"Fundamental to what?" asked Ditzy.

Lyra swept her hooves out wide. "Everything. Zero-Zero-Alpha is, as far as we can tell, the baseline. The Equestria from which all other Equestrias are derived." She smirked. "Traveling there is totally forbidden, but since attempting to do so splinters off a new universe and shunts the traveller there, the only punishment is having to catalogue the new splay.

"Anyway, we've only identified the resonant frequencies of a few Zero-Zeroes besides Alpha. Kappa is largely similar, but accessible and somehow even more eventful for the Bearers. Sigma contains thriving seapony and hippocampus cultures. Gamma is..." Lyra's eyes narrowed, her upper lip curled, and her face folded itself into an expression of utter disgust. "We don't talk about Gamma. And then there's Epsilon."

"So what's that one like?"

Lyra lifted a book off of a bookshelf with her magic. To Ditzy's eyes, webs of golden light sealed it shut. The unicorn brought it in front of her and said, "Voiceprint confirmation. Heartstrings Lambda-Alpha-Four." The strands of magic unravelled and the front cover opened.

"What is it with you ponies and all the alphanumerics?" asked Ditzy.

Lyra shrugged. "Don't ask me, I just work here." She flipped to a page near the front. "Here you go."

Ditzy read the passage aloud. "Universe Zero-Zero-Epsilon. Summary: Dominant species quasihumanoid, roughly four point seven on the Shepherd Equunculus-Homo Morphology Spectrum." She looked up. "Meaning?"

"Very nearly human. The SEHMS goes from one to five."

"One being us, five being human?"

"Bingo."

"Just making sure." Ditzy continued reading. "Very strong morphic field restrictions force equinoid outsiders into this shape. Physical age shifted towards sixteen years old with logarithmic variation based on actual age. Initial scans indicate null magic environment. Technological development highly advanced to compensate for this. More details not available due to difficulty of agent insertion. Exercise extreme caution." She shut the book. "So, terra incognita."

Lyra shrugged. "More or less. Still, the reason we think it's null magic over there is because the first agents to go in were unicorns and they lost their horns upon crossing over. Ever since, the higher-ups have been too spooked to send anyone else over. No one wants to be responsible for stranding an agent in a no mage's land."

The pieces came together in Ditzy's mind. "But a consultant, they're okay with," she grumbled.

"Actually, that was my suggestion. For a good reason!" Lyra waited for Ditzy to calm down – and to settle her wings, which had flared with her ire – before explaining herself. "You basically violate all known understanding of how magic behaves. In theory, you should be able to use that weird geomancy land-bond power of yours even in Zero-Zero-Epsilon."

"In theory," Ditzy echoed, glaring at the unicorn. "You don't know?"

"We didn't exactly have a planeswalker available to test it. In any case, I won't be gating you there; I'll be reverse-summoning you."

"Meaning?"

Lyra frowned. "You don't know?"

Ditzy wingshrugged. " I know what unsummoning is, but this sounds different. Besides, unicorn magic was never really an area of focus for me. Not enough planes with unicorns."

"Oh. Fair. Well, you'll basically be on a timer. When your time runs out, you'll automatically come back."

"If it's that easy, why hasn't anypony else ever done it?"

"Eh heh, well..." Lyra's ears lay back as she found herself unable to maintain eye contact. "Reverse-summoning is by no means easy. I'm basically going to fire you through probability space at a target so far away that, if the math isn't correct to seven decimal places, you could go careening into an entirely different timeline. Possibly one that isn't capable of supporting life. Or you could just drift forever in the interstice." She perked back up. "There is good news, though!"

"Will the good news make this sound any less like a suicide mission?" Ditzy kept her expression neutral, but her tone made it clear that her patience was wearing very thin.

"Well, one, I'm good at math." Lyra waited to see if this got a chuckle out of the pegasus. It didn't. She moved on. "Two, since you're a planeswalker, you should be able to perform course corrections en route."

"Should." Ditzy was frowning at this point. "And what would I even be aiming for?"

"You'll know it when you see it. Besides, isn't navigating in way too many dimensions your special talent? You'll be fine!"

Ditzy sighed. "The Bureau's going to owe me when I get back."

"You'll do it?"

"Yeah, I'll do it. But only because the only alternative is to send Pinkie." Both mares shuddered at the thought.

"Just remember, this is one of the core timelines of existence. Try not to interfere with anything important if you can help it."

Ditzy quirked an eyebrow. "Define 'important.'"

Lyra sighed and threw up her forehooves. "I don't know! We barely know anything about this splay! Just... try not to jostle the hoof of destiny. Or hand, I guess." Her horn began to glow. "Ready?"

"What, now?"

The glow intensified. "Kind of a time-sensitive matter, Ditzy." Lyra spoke quickly, her eyes widening and looking up at her horn. Layers of golden light were forming over it, pulsing like a beating heart.

Ditzy recognized the signs of a spell that was going out of control because its caster hadn't expected it to be this easy. "You'll cover for me, right?" She got a frantic nod in reply. Resigned, the pegasus drew herself up with as much dignity as she could muster. "I just hope it's something like the Blind Eternities."

Lyra's reply was cut off by the torrent of magic streaming out of her head and into Ditzy's chest.

Probability space was nothing like the Blind Eternities. For one, it was only six-dimensional. Ditzy would've chuckled at the idea of "only" 6D were she not trying to make sense of the place. Her eyes kept trying to focus along axes that didn't exist. It was like trying to navigate an immense optical illusion produced on Discord's own loom, a maddening tapestry of impossible knots and tangled perspectives.

Eventually, a shining, golden hypersphere came into view in the center of her vision, seemingly fixed in place along height, width, depth, time, improbability, and subjunctivity. As Ditzy approached, she realized the golden globe was actually a bit left/likely/were-not of center. Thankfully, she was still on target, a paler, smaller cosmos adjacent to the more grandiose one. She closed her eyes and braced for impact, her little bubble of energy slamming into Zero-Zero-Epsilon like a drop in a bucket.

Space twisted itself in directions that didn't exist. Time branched into a trillion different possibilities and rejoined itself in less than an eyeblink. Ditzy Doo found herself sitting on a toilet.

"Well, this is inauspicious." Ditzy tottered to half as many feet as usual and stumbled to a row of sinks. Grasping one, she relocated her center of balance. Bipedalism was easier than it looked, so long as she didn't overthink it. Her body knew how to balance; her mind just had to trust it.

Ditzy looked up and found herself looking into a mirror. She examined her reflection. "Huh." It was her complexion more than anything. It was one thing to have grey hair. It was quite another to have grey skin. "I look like the scrawniest golem ever," she muttered. "That, or an underfed earth elemental, however that works." As she'd been warned, she seemed younger, too. Late teens if she had to guess. "Weird."

Next came the hands. Ditzy had seen them before, of course, but this was the first chance she got to use a pair of her own. She wiggled her thumbs a bit, then waggled her fingers. She kept waggling, feeling a stupid grin grow. "This is far more fun than it should be." She finally brought it to a halt by tangling the digits in each other.

Ditzy turned her attention back to her appearance, taking a step back for the bigger picture. That she was wearing clothes was a pleasant surprise. She'd been a bit worried about the nudity taboos that humanoids inevitably developed, so not having to scramble to cover herself was quite convenient. Still, the ensemble left something to be desired. The blouse and dress were nice enough, though the blue and green didn't exactly go together, nor did either match the incongruous yellow necktie. But that wasn't the worst of it.

"Socks with sandals?" Ditzy muttered. "It's like the universe treats my existence like some kind of joke." She considered this for a moment. "Oh. Right. It does. I'm a planeswalker, after all."

The former pegasus shrugged. Well, it wasn't that big a deal. She had more pressing issues to deal with. She rubbed her shoulders a bit self-consciously. "No wings." Ditzy knew she wasn't going to keep them, but that didn't mean she was comfortable with their absence. "No flight. Not without magic." She looked at the ground, hopped, and frowned when she came back to earth. "Gravity, you are a cruel mistress."

The thought of magic prompted Ditzy to check her mana bonds. Thankfully, she could still feel the connections. They were a bit attenuated, but not nearly as much as during her brief time in oblivion. She could still cast spells. "Well, that's an advantage."

"Uh..." Ditzy blinked. There was a lavender-skinned girl standing behind her reflection in the mirror, looking askance at the girl talking to herself.

The ex-pony turned and chuckled nervously. "Um, hi."

"Hi..." The girl looked as uncomfortable as Ditzy felt.

Ditzy took in the native's appearance. Honey-and-straw ponytail, lilac skin, similarly shaded eyes... "Cloud Kicker, right?"

The girl gave a slow nod, her lips drawing back in a nervous rictus grin. Oh, great, the smile seemed to say. The crazy girl knows who I am. "Uh, yeah. Hi."

Ditzy's first impulse was to say "I'm not crazy," but that would only convince the other girl of the contrary. Instead, she pulled a page from Pinkie Pie's playbook; if she was going to appear crazy, she might as well seem harmlessly crazy. Ditzy let her eyes drift out of alignment, stuck out her tongue, and winked. "Have a nice day."

Cloud visibly relaxed, her smile becoming more natural. "You too, Derps."

Now it was Ditzy's turn to wear a wooden smile. How did that damnable nickname follow her everywhere?

Sunset Shimmer strode out of an overlooked alcove of Canterlot High, having sent her dimwitted lackeys to gather dirt on Twilight Sparkle. The fool would make it easy for them; she didn't belong in this world. Nor did the Element of Magic, but at least that would prove useful.

She was so busy scheming, she didn't notice the other girl walking next to her. At least, not until the newcomer asked, "So, what does happen when you bring an Element of Harmony into an alternate world?"

Sunset stopped and spun, "Who—?"

Ditzy waved. "Hi."

"You!?" Sunset spat. "I thought I'd taught you not to interfere with me long ago."

Ditzy shrugged. "Who's interfering? I'm just curious."

"Well it's none of your business, Derpy." Sunset stormed off, or at least tried to. A surprisingly strong arm latched onto her own and kept her in place. "Let go of me!"

"It's funny, is all I'm saying." Ditzy's casual tone belied her iron grip. "How could you know something so esoteric about the Elements of Harmony? You know, the magical artifacts that were only half-forgotten legends until after you left Equestria?"

Sunset flinched back, shocked. "H-how did you—?"

"I have my ways." Like invisibly eavesdropping on the confrontation with Twilight, but Ditzy thought it best not to mention that. "But please, do share this information only you have about something that wasn't even physically incarnate when you were last under Celestia's wing."

Sunset sneered. "Oh, I see what happened."

"Do you? I wonder."

"You must be the Derpy from Equestria." Sunset snickered at this. "What, did you trip over your own hooves and into the mirror? There's no way Princess Celestia would send somepony like you."

Ditzy shook her head. "Poor, deluded little egotist. Did you really think there were only two worlds? That nopony paid any attention to movement between them? Your actions have attracted the notice of entities you cannot even begin to conceive of, Sunset Shimmer."

"Oh yeah?" Sunset scoffed. "Name one."

Ditzy smiled, allowing her eyes to fill with roiling, shifting, manamorphosing color. Mind to mind, she broadcasted a single syllable into the fugitive's head.

ME.

Then she let go.

Seeing evil flee before you, Ditzy thought, is its own reward.

Sunset Shimmer shook in the stall, struggling to catch her breath. This wasn't supposed to happen. She could handle Twilight Sparkle easily, but that... that thing that wore the village idiot's skin couldn't be destroyed through rumormongering and aliased e-mails. It wielded magic. It had the one advantage she was trying to get over these accursed apes, and it stood in her way.

"You know, running for the nearest restroom wasn't exactly the cleverest of escape tactics."

Sunset shot up from the toilet she'd been sitting on. "What do you want?"

"Well, for one, I'd like you to open the door. Otherwise, this conversation will be kind of awkward."

Sunset slid open the latch and slammed on the door, sending it flying open. Sadly, the grey-skinned monster stood out of range of the swing. It raised an eyebrow. "I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that that was just an overly dramatic entrance."

Sunset sneered as she stalked out. "I don't need your charity, freak." A little more...

"Wow. Name calling. I see your maturity matches that of your body."

"Yuck it up, Derpy. I—" Sunset stopped midsentence, making a break for the doorway. She slammed into a glowing blue barrier with all the solidity of a brick wall. "Ow."

Ditzy smiled just a little, since Sunset couldn't see it. "Please, stay a while. I'm in no rush, and I've chosen the least unpleasant means of keeping you here. I considered paralyzing you, but I've seen enough Kamigawan erotica to know that schoolgirls and tentacles don't mix. Er, never mind that last part."

Sunset spun, snarling. "What do you want?"

Ditzy leaned on a sink. "Information, as I said earlier. How do you know what you know about the Elements of Harmony?"

"And if I don't tell you?"

Ditzy shrugged. "I can wait."

Sunset squinted at her captor. "Why do you want to know?"

"I'm genuinely curious."

"Will you answer my questions if I answer yours?"

"Sure." Ditzy grinned. "By my count, you owe me four or five answers. Depends on whether or not repeating 'What do you want?' counts as a separate question. I'm feeling generous, so let's say it doesn't. So, where'd you learn all this Elemental arcana?"

"I was Celestia's student, you know," said Sunset. "She told me everything. Her sister's banishment, the stars moving into alignment, where and what the Elements were. She wanted me as prepared as possible. But then..." Sunset scowled. "She trusted me, but only so long as I danced to her tune. When I asked for more than she was willing to give me, when I strayed from her neat little timetable, she turned on me, rejected me. That was when I realized that her openness was a lie. She was just feeding me what I needed to know, shaping me into a tool, something disposable that she could use to cleanse her sister and toss to the side. I refused to be used like that. I found the portal to this world in one of the castle's sub-basements. I didn't know where it led, but it was outside of that nag's influence, and that was all I needed to know."

"And what are you going to do now?" asked Ditzy.

Sunset snuck a glance at the barricade keeping her trapped in the restroom before responding. "I'm going to make Celestia pay for her manipulation. My army will march upon Equestria, and I will rule ponykind with an iron hoof. Or hand. I'm flexible."

"'Army'?"

"You wanted to know what happens to an Element of Harmony in an alternate world? I'll tell you. With anypony from Equestria transformed into one of these creatures, the crown can't tell us apart. All it knows is that we come from the same world, and so it offers its power to anypony who claims it. With that power, I will dominate the students of this little school, and we will conquer Equestria!"

"I… see." Ditzy gave a dismissive wave of a hand and the barrier dropped. "You can go now."

"Wh— seriously?"

"Seriously."

Sunset slowly backed away from Ditzy. When no retaliation made itself known, she fled at a much faster clip.

Ditzy tried to count to ten before letting herself laugh. She only made it to four.

Snips snickered to himself. The new girl was almost making this too easy. The way she acted around the simplest devices, you'd think she was raised in a cave! He half-expected her to start licking the monitor next.

His phone began to vibrate in his hands. Stifling a confused sound, Snips opened the text message.

S&S Emergency Meet me @ locker 666 ASAP

Snips looked up and met Snails's gaze. Judging by the gangly boy's befuddled expression, he'd gotten the same message. Snips shrugged and headed for the library's entrance. Whatever Sunset wanted, Sunset got, and at that moment, Sunset wanted him.

Minutes later, both boys approached Sunset's locker. There, the queen of the school was pacing and muttering to herself, so lost in both activities that she hadn't noticed them.

Unusually, Snails spoke first. "D'you think Trixie still needs minions?"

Snips glared at him. "Dude! Trixie is yesterday's news. If we're going to be anyone's minions, it's Sunset Shimmer!"

"Well..." Snails gave Sunset a wary look. "It's just... she's kinda lookin' a little crazy."

Sunset snapped out of her fugue. Or maybe she just snapped. "Crazy? Who's crazy? I'm not crazy!" She blinked, seeming to only now recognize her flunkies. "Oh. You two. About time you showed up."

Snips saluted. "We've got plenty of dirt on this Twilight Sparkle girl, Sunset!"

"We'd have more," added Snails, "but, well, you wanted us here."

"Fine. Good. I'm sure you got enough. New job." Sunset snatched a photograph out of her locker and held it up for the pair to see. "Her."

Both minions contemplated the image for far longer than she felt was necessary. Finally, Snails asked, "Are you sure?"

This got him a pair of stares. "Of course she's sure!" shouted Snips. "She's Shunshet Shimmer. Um... You know what I mean!"

"She's dangerous, this one. Don't underestimate her." Sunset shook slightly.

"Well, I don't know about dangerous, per se. Certainly not intentionally." All three students looked up into the smiling, snaggletoothed face of Mr. Discord, head of the science department and principal emeritus. "Yes, Mrs. Punch's class was a bit more explosive than usual last year, but what's a little jump in entropy between friends, eh?"

He knelt down, putting him eye-to-bloodshot-eye with Sunset. "Now, Miss Shimmer, I do so hate to see young minds being needlessly stifled and constrained, so I've been discouraging my dear nieces from any unpleasant overreactions regarding this 'big woman on campus' attitude of yours. But, that being said, I'm sure you, Mister Escargot, and Mister Pirelli all have classes you should be attending about now. I would strongly recommend going to them."

Sunset steamed silently, biting on the inside of her mouth until she could bear to throw up the peppy mask she presented to teachers. "Right away, sir!" After a final dark glare at her lackeys, she sped away, Snips and Snails scurrying off as well.

After waiting a few moments, Ditzy dropped the illusion. "I always wonder how they fill in the blanks," she mused.

Ditzy watched the impromptu musical number out of the corner of her right eye. It was impressive work. The magic of Harmony was much weaker here. Song and dance routines couldn't just manifest when dramatically appropriate; they essentially had to be summoned. But the Bearers' analogues still did all of the preliminary work needed to get to get it going.

Still, it wasn't quite the same. Even walking along the edge of the performance, Ditzy felt no urge to join in. No words came to her lips, no movements to her limbs. She wasn't the target audience and the magic needed to snare her couldn't be spared.

At least it made for a neat light show for her magic sight. Especially Twilight Sparkle. "Yeah," Ditzy muttered as she sat down, "She's clearly not from around here..."

"Who isn't?"

"Twilight Sparkle. As far as I can tell, she..." Ditzy trailed off once she wondered who had asked the question. She turned and barely held back a gasp. "Well, I'm beside myself."

The other grey-skinned blonde giggled. "No kidding."

"You seem to be taking this awfully well."

The local Ditzy shrugged. "Eh, I read a lot of science fiction. So, are you a clone, a robot duplicate, what?"

Ditzy smiled. There was no way she was going to let herself beat her at nonchalance. "You from an alternate universe."

"Cool. So, what's different?"

"Well, for one, I'm normally a pegasus."

That threw the local, confirming that eye disorders transcended dimensional borders. "As in a horse with wings?"

"Pony, actually."

"So a tiny horse with wings?"

The planeswalker smirked, "Much in the same way you're a bald ape, yes."

"Point made." Local Ditzy's attention returned to the center of the cafeteria. The song had petered out at this point, but Twilight was still working the crowd. "So, same goes for the new kid, then?"

"No, she's a unicorn." Ditzy frowned and squinted. Something was off about Twilight's aura. It was... deeper, somehow. "At least, she was a unicorn."

"Now she's a pegasus?"

That was it. "No. Well, sort of. I think she's got wings and a horn. And vaguely defined earth powers."

"How?"

"If I had to guess? Shenanigans."

Local Ditzy frowned. "I shouldn't be satisfied with that answer, but it's funny enough that I'm willing to let it go."

"Um..."

Both girls looked up with disturbing synchronicity, making the speaker flinch back a bit. One noted that his skin and hair color actually fell within the possible spectrum of normal humans. The other smiled. "Oh. Hi, Norman."

"Hi." Norman looked from one Ditzy to the other, confusion mounting each time. "Um..."

"Oh!" The local Ditzy thought fast. "This is, uh..."

The other flashed a winning smile. "I'm Ditzy's cousin, Bright Eyes. Nice to meet you."

Norman opened his mouth, paused, and finally asked, "Cousins?"

"Yup."

"Identical cousins?"

"We both take after our grandmother."

Norman's eyes flicked about as he processed this. Finally, he shrugged. "Sure, why not? Nice to meet you, Bright. I'm going to go find a lunch table that makes sense."

"Good luck." Ditzy smiled at her analogue's wonderstruck expression. "Everyone has a threshold where things get so weird that they no longer care what's actually going on. It's a mental defense mechanism."

Local Ditzy smiled with a sound like a squeeze toy. "I am the coolest pegasus ever."

Mystic energy flooded into the world, pulled through the portal by the misappropriated Element of Magic. Electric guitars wailed from the Æther. The transformed Sunset gave a wide, fanged grin. "I am complete!"

Dash and Applejack expressed what all six friends were thinking. "Fuuuuuuuuck!"

Hot licks thrashed eardrums as Sunset crowed, "Yes, you are fucked! Shit out of luck! Now I'm complete and your thumbs you can suck! All worlds will be mine, and you're first in line! You've brought me the crown and now you shall all die!"

"Excuse me!" It was as though someone had pulled the plug on the cosmic amp. The rocking crescendo came to a stuttering halt. Ditzy waved as she emerged from the school's entrance. "Hi. I hate to interrupt, but, well, how exactly do you plan on conquering all of existence? One demon and infinite worlds just don't add up."

"This ain't no time fer fancy mathematics, Ditzy Doo!" cried Applejack. "Git outta here while th' gittin's good!"

Sunset chuckled, a sound like infant skulls bouncing on a giant xylophone. "No, no, she's right. I nearly forgot." With a gesture, Sunset crushed the doors of the building to rubble and lifted them out of the way. Dark power flared about the Tiara of Magic, culminating in blue rings of energy that flew towards the assembled student body.

Ditzy casually dismissed the mind control, but the other students weren't so lucky. Soon, the polychromatic populous stood stock still, their glowing eyes staring at nothing.

"With my teenage army," Sunset boasted, "Equestria will fall before me!"

"Snrk..."

The demon's head snapped down to Ditzy, glowering at her. "What was that?"

"Pfft… ha ha ha ha!"

"What's so funny!?" Sunset demanded.

"You!" Ditzy gasped. "You actually think a bunch of untrained, underaged mind slaves is going to have a fighting chance against a trained military!"

The demon's rage came to a full boil. Hellfire flashed to life in her hands. "Shut up and die!" Sunset screeched, hurling a mass of black flame at her heckler.

"Ha ha ha no." Ditzy held up a hand. The air shimmered before her, like a heat mirage. The ebon pyre slowed to a halt less than an inch from her palm, then abruptly reversed course.

Sunset's eyes bugged out for a moment, but she collected herself and screamed, the sheer volume disrupting the fiery mass before it struck her.

"Typical," Ditzy observed. "You don't get your way, so you throw a tantrum."

"I am not! Throwing! A TANTRUM!" Sunset dove at the blonde, claws outstretched.

Ditzy fell back on a tried and true tactic every planeswalker learned eventually: basically, run. As Sunset's talons sank into cement, she skidded to a halt by Twilight and her friends. "Hi, Twilight, hi, local analogues of everypony."

"Hi, non-local analogue of Ditzy!" replied Pinkie.

"Ditzy Doo?" Twilight gaped. "What are you… How did you—"

"No time. You and your Doppelfreunden here might want to—"

Ditzy's advice was cut off by a guttural roar and another blast of unholy flame.

"Crap." Two spells in quick succession had drained Ditzy's limited reserves. She couldn't dodge, as that would leave the others in the path. That left one option. Swallowing, Ditzy spread her arms and shut her eyes.

"No!" Twilight ducked under one arm and put herself before her fellow former pony.

"Twilight!" The five friends she reunited followed suit.

Lyra leaned forward, engrossed. "And then what happened?"

"Well, between their bonds of friendship with a girl they'd met the day before and being essentially the same people as the Bearers, five random teenagers were able to use the Elements of Harmony without the actual jewelry. But first, they sprouted pony ears, their hair doubled in length, and wings appeared where appropriate."

Lyra chewed this over for a minute. "No, seriously, then what happened?"

"That," Ditzy deadpanned. "It was every bit as stupid and glorious as it sounds." She grumbled an addendum. "Still can't believe I didn't get my wings back..."

"Huh. So, what happened to Sunset Shimmer?"

"Still in Zero-Zero-Epsilon, learning about the magic of friendship from those she sought to divide and conquer." Ditzy grinned. "It's actually a nice bit of ironic punishment. I think that Twilight's going to make a decent princess."

Meanwhile, at Canterlot High

Two girls sat opposite one another in the cafeteria, several pieces of cardboard arranged between them in some arcane formation. The blonde was explaining some part of the process to the redhead. "And after my end phase, it's your turn again. Same process as before: untap, upkeep, draw, and then the precombat main phase."

Sunset Shimmer scowled at the cards. "This isn't what I meant when I asked you to teach me this world's magic."

Ditzy Doo shrugged. "I figured as much, but I'm not secretly a pegasus from another timeline."

Sunset snapped up, staring at the grey girl. "H-how did you...?"

"Besides," Ditzy continued, smiling, "isn't it fun?"

Sunset considered her hand. Mind Control, Steal Artifact, Renegade Demon...

"Yeah," she admitted. "Yeah, it is."

Incite Controversy 1RW
Instant
Cast Incite Controversy only during combat before attackers are declared.
Separate all creatures attacking player controls into two piles. Creatures in the pile of that player's choice attack this turn if able. Creatures in the other pile can't attack this turn.
Some see an unforgivable mockery of everything they hold sacred. Others see a harmless joke. Both are correct.

Author's Note

Chengar Qordath did the whole "crossover character intrudes on Equestria Girls" thing better, but then, he generally does that with any story he gets his winning mitts on.

These were the highlights, of course. The rest of the time, assume Ditzy is waiting for her lands to untap and trying not to wreck destiny.

As for the ending, well, don't forget the blurb on just about every piece of Magic packaging. "You Are A Planeswalker." If Ditzy is one, logically, that means EG!Ditzy plays the game. And so does that universe's Pinkie. Hmm...

Oh, I actually did come up with a model of temporal geometry. It's a big wad of mathematical technobabble and cylindrical coordinates, so I'll only post it if anyone's interested.

Sweetie's Bizarre Adventure

WARNING: The following story contains spoilers for The Sweetie Chronicles: Fragments. If you plan on reading that story and have not yet read up through chapter 11, do so before reading this. Thank you.

In Ponyville's park, a mint-green mare was playing a lively tune that had come to her in a dream to the crowd gathered around her.

"From there I got away, me spirits never falling,
Landed on the quay, just as the ship was sailing.
The captain at me roared, said that no room had he;
When I jumped aboard—"

Lyra's horn began to flash. "Uh oh." The crowd murmured, thrown off by her sudden self-interruption. She offered an apologetic grin. "Sorry, folks. Important eccentric conspiracy theorist business. Aliens are among us, don't trust Canterlot, I like pants. Gotta go!" She galloped off before anypony could process the flurry of non sequiturs.

The spacey-wacey spell led Lyra into the town market, nearly wrenching her head off her neck as she passed a stall full of cabbages.

The earth stallion manning the booth, his coat green as most of his merchandise, gave a hesitant smile. "Er, good afternoon, Miss Heartstrings."

Lyra returned the awkward grin, her eyes flicking to and from the pony. "Hi, Leafy."

Leafy Greens shifted back and forth. "Looking for anything specific?"

"I'll know it when I see i— Ah!" Golden magic pulled out what had first appeared to be a rather unusual red cabbage. It soon revealed itself as the pink-and-purple mane of a unicorn filly.

Leafy backed away, fear in his eyes. "Get her away! Get that hellion away from my cabbages!"

Sweetie Belle gave a weak wave. "Hi, Mr. Greens."

"Destroyer! Despoiler! Cabbage-bane!"

"I see you two have already met." Lyra set the filly down. "Come on, Sweetie. Let's get out of here before you give Mr. Greens an embolism."

The Crusader hesitated. "Um, I, uh..."

"Get away!" Leafy was all but frothing at the mouth. "Get away, get away, get away!"

That was all Sweetie needed. She bolted.

Lyra kept pace at her fetlocks. "So, we headed anywhere in particular, or are you just trying to get away from the cabbage pony?"

The question brought Sweetie to a halt as she thought about it. "Um, the second one, really."

Lyra nodded. "Fair enough. Follow me, then."

The filly pondered this for a moment. "Okay, I guess..."

Sweetie had second thoughts when the pair approached an alley. "Um, what exactly are you planning on doing, Lyra?"

"I thought you'd want to talk in private."

The younger unicorn looked at her elder with perfectly guileless innocence. "Why would I want that?"

Lyra whistled, impressed. "Well, someone's been getting lessons. I'd almost believe you." She lowered her head and her voice. "That is, if you hadn't set off my dimensional transit detector."

Sweetie's expression shifted to genuine panic. "I'm sorry! I never meant to do this!" she managed to scream at the volume of a whisper. "This world's Sweetie will—"

"Whoa, whoa, relax." Lyra gestured to the alley. "This is the sort of conversation made for alcoves and silence spells. Come on."

Once the two were as comfortable as they could get, Lyra projected a golden dome around them, then smiled. "Now, you were saying?"

Sweetie Belle took a deep breath. "In my home Equestria, I was Twilight Sparkle's apprentice. There was a magical accident and Twilight got turned to crystal, shattered, and scattered across I-don't-know-how-many different versions of the world. I've been traveling between them gathering her fragments. Every time I visit a new Equestria, I kind of take over the Sweetie Belle who already lives there. Once I find the fragment, I move on, and she takes over again. I think."

Lyra nodded. "Okay then. Let's see where you've been."

"Well, there—" Sweetie stopped herself once she noticed the golden glow on the mare's horn.

"Hmm." Lyra squinted as she considered the incoming data. "No, no, that's the body. I need the mind. Adjust things a bit and..."

"I could just—"

"Thank you, Sweetie, but I don't get much chance to show off. Ah, there you are. Now..." Lyra whistled as she processed the scan. "Well, you've been around the block, haven't you? At least seven different dimensional signatures here."

Sweetie pondered the elder unicorn's horn. "So, I guess this some kind of highly specialized divination effect? What exactly is it detecting? How did you modify it to sense me instead of the native Sweetie?"

Lyra smiled. "You're Twilight's student, all right. We'll talk shop once we know what to do with you." She ended the spell, blinking a few times as her vision collapsed back into three dimensions. "In any case, it looks like you started in Universe Seven-Five-Kappa."

"I did?"

"Well, that's what we call it."

Sweetie looked askance at this. "Who is 'we,' exactly?"

"Office of Parallel Timelines," Lyra said off-hoofedly. "You lucked out, Sweetie. This sort of thing is my specialty."

The filly's jaw dropped. "Office of Parallel Timelines? Where the horn-surging feather have you ponies been!?"

"Sweetie Belle!"

There was no way a chastisement was going to stop her. "Do you have any idea what I've had to endure? I have been nearly eaten by werewolves, menaced by Nightmare Moon, almost disintegrated, brought back from the dead twice, killed more times than I'd care to count, and forced through a time loop so often that I nearly forgot what a weekend is. And now you tell me there's a whole branch of the government devoted to the horseapples I've been suffering through?"

Lyra kept her gaze neutral as she looked at the indignant filly. Sweetie's chest was heaving with the sheer quantity of vented spleen, her horn sparking in a far more focused way than was to be expected from a unicorn her apparent age. "Are you done?"

Sweetie slumped. "Yeah. I think I am."

"Okay then. First of all, for what it's worth, I am sorry for what you've experienced."

"Thank you," Sweetie mumbled.

Lyra gave a hint of a smile at this. "No thanks necessary. Secondly, I assume it's hard to convince most ponies of your predicament when you arrive in a new world?"

"Yeah." Sweetie gasped. "Oh, wait! Not anymore!" She proudly presented her flank, emblazoned with an eighth note before a shattered six-pointed star. "I bet this Equestria's Sweetie doesn't have this!"

"She doesn't, though I imagine that's why you were hiding amongst the cabbages."

"Uh huh. You showed up before I was expecting anypony."

"Understandable." Lyra grinned. "Anyway, imagine trying not only to convince a pony you're from another Equestria, but that you need government funding."

Sweetie Belle winced. "Oh."

Lyra nodded. "Yeah. The ETSAB – that is, the Equestrian Time-Space Administration Bureau – has a lot of pull in this particular cosmos, 'cause we're needed to keep time and space running. In other Equestrias, well, we aren't, so the OPL can't do much more than observe."

Sweetie mulled this over for a moment. "Well, if you go back to the world where I was last and talk to Prince Blueblood, he may be able to do something about that. Just tell him his sister sent you."

"Sister?" Lyra scanned Sweetie again, thinking aloud as she did so. "Distant cousin, certainly. Ward, on occasion. Can't think of any instances where you're siblings with His Insufferableness." She noted Sweetie's scowl. "Though I'm sure the one you're thinking of was a true gentlecolt."

"Eventually. There was a time loop, and he'd been in it longer."

"So he was." Lyra ended her spell. "Universe Eight-Six-Epsilon, home of one of Equestria's most tolerable Bluebloods. Who, when last I heard, was courting your sister."

The resulting smile nearly split Sweetie Belle's head in two. "Really?"

"Really."

The filly's mood suddenly flipped, her posture and ears drooping. "Miss Heartstrings?"

"Yes, Sweetie Belle?"

"Can you get me home?"

Lyra held back a wince. She'd been afraid of that question. "I... I might have been able to send you back home if you'd gotten here first. As it is, the shards' entanglement is much stronger than your thaumic resonance frequency and..." A blank stare told her she'd gotten far too technical. "Okay, I'm going to use an analogy that, while understandable, will be wrong in almost every conceivable way."

Sweetie pouted. "Just because I don't know the terminology doesn't mean you have to dumb it down for me."

"Are you familiar with quantum soul resonance?"

Sweetie kicked at the ground. "Not really."

"Six-dimensional tensor fields?"

"No."

"Butterfly Wing's Laws of Probability Scattering?"

Sweetie didn't answer immediately, instead staring off into the distance. "I kind of... no, not really."

Lyra shrugged. "Then I'm going to dumb it down.

"You see, you have a tie to your home universe much as anything does. Call that a rope, one end attached to you, one to Seven-Five-Kappa. The various pieces of your Twilight basically 'remember' being a single entity, and are much more strongly connected to one another. Think of those connections as a web of bungie cords connecting each universe that contains one of the fragments to each other such universe. When you gather one of the fragments, all the cords that were attached to that Equestria latch onto you instead, and the rebalanced tension drags you into another Equestria. If I tried to send you home now, you'd just get dragged back to a world containing a piece of your Twilight."

Sweetie expression grew haunted. "And if we were to sever the cords, the backlash would be tremendous."

Lyra nodded. "Assuming we even could. Mind you, this is all just a hypothesis based on what I know. Frankly, I've never seen spacetime mangled to this degree in quite this way before now. This anomaly may be following the rules of your home universe, those of every involved Equestria, or some set of behaviors so bizarre not even Discord could comprehend it."

Sweetie fell back on her haunches. "So what do I do now?"

A mint-coated hoof lay across her withers. Lyra smiled at the filly. "Now? Now, we go see a specialist."

After applying what she called a "perception filter" to Sweetie's flanks, Lyra led the younger unicorn without offering any further information. "Terrible gossips in this town," she said en route. "You never know who might be listening."

Sweetie nodded at this. "The glade is dark and quiet."

Lyra couldn't help but grin. "But the vegetables are smiling. And somepony's been reading too many spy thrillers." She came to a halt. "She should be here."

The filly hadn't been paying much attention to where they were headed. She didn't know what to expect, but she had a few guesses: Twilight's library, Lyra's home, some shadowy little shop filled with mysterious relics and the smoke of exotic incense...

At no point did she consider the post office. "What are we doing here?"

"You'll see," Lyra said with an enigmatic grin.

The pair walked inside and walked past the front counter with barely a glance at or from the stallion at the front desk. "I have an arrangement with our mare," Lyra explained as she led Sweetie to a door marked "Town Postmistress." She knocked out an upbeat cadence.

"Come in, Lyra."

Lyra did just that. She nodded towards Sweetie as she approached the desk. "She followed me home. Can I keep her?"

Ditzy Doo rolled her eyes, always an impressive sight. "A filly's a big responsibility, young lady. You'll have to..." She trailed off, apparently entranced by the air directly above Sweetie Belle. "Thrackerzod again?"

Lyra shook her head. "Nope. One hundred percent Sweetie Belle." She considered this. "More, actually."

"Yes, her soul manifesting outside of her body tipped me off."

"It's what?" Sweetie looked up, trying to follow Ditzy's gaze. "I don't see anything."

"The local Ditzy has... special eyes," said Lyra.

"That's certainly one way of putting it." Ditzy frowned. "And given the use of 'the local Ditzy,' I can only assume this is not the local Sweetie Belle."

"Well, it's her body," Lyra noted, "just not her mind."

Ditzy nodded. "That explains a lot. Metaphysically speaking, there's no room for the controlling spirit, so it sort of hovers just outside the body."

Sweetie sighed. "I'm right here, you know. Twilight Sparkle's apprentice. You don't have to keep me out of the conversation just because advanced magic is being discussed."

Both mares offered apologetic looks, Ditzy's seasoned with surprised. "Sorry, Sweetie," said Lyra. "We're used to a filly who can barely make her horn spark."

"And I'm used to... well, a musician and a mailmare. I've never really gotten to know either of you especially well."

Lyra chuckled. "Well, as far as Lyra Heartstringses and Ditzy Doos go, the two of us are fairly out of the ordinary."

"True." Ditzy rose from her chair and moved to a closet door. She opened it, revealing a room far larger than the pittance of space that should've been there. She entered, carefully stepping around assorted artifacts and the occasional cardboard box. "Let's see now..."

Lyra winced. "Did you have to do that? Hyperspace junctions always gives me a hornache."

Sweetie gaped. Putting aside the sudden torrent of magical power pouring out of the assembled items, there was still the matter of the flagrant violation of normal dimensions. "H-hyperspace? How did...? Who could...?"

"Pinkie Pie," said Ditzy, apparently all the explanation she felt was needed. "I just wish I had it back when I was pregnant with Dinky. Would've made the commute a lot easier. Here we are!" A full-length mirror emerged from the impossible room, Ditzy pushing it into her office. She kicked the door closed with a hind leg. "Now the two of you can see what's getting me so flustered."

Sweetie trotted up in front of the mirror. Her reflection stared back. "Um..."

"Oh, right. Just a second." Ditzy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, they were twin orbs of cerulean brilliance, tinting the office the shade of the noon sky. After a moment, the light faded. "There. Now you should be able to see it."

"No kidding," breathed Lyra. Above Sweetie Belle's mirror image was a surreal apparition. Thick tendrils of pink and purple writhed, split, and rejoined. A translucent, opalescent skin encased the roiling vine-like structures, keeping them in a vaguely equine form, one closer to an alicorn or Saddle Arabian than a pony. At elbow and stifle, the creature faded to nothingness. Its head was featureless, an opaque, stark white ellipsoid, the transition in skin color visible along the neck. The horn returned to transparency, two lengths of the internal matter, one of each color, coiling around each other in an ever-narrowing double helix within it. Floating about the entity were several chunks of amethyst-like crystal, smoldering with raw magic.

Like Sweetie Belle, the creature was staring at Ditzy Doo, as much as something without eyes could stare. "What was that?" Sweetie asked, agog.

Ditzy gave a nervous chuckle. "Oh. Right. Sorry, I'm used to Sweetie knowing about this."

"You... you just did magic. Not normal pegasus magic, like walking on clouds or something, but a spell! Without a horn! That shouldn't be possible! Can every pegasus do that in this world? Can earth ponies? What other spells can you cast? Can you—"

"Sweetie! Breathe!" As the filly panted, Ditzy smiled. "Well, if I ever doubted that Twilight taught you, I don't now."

"I'm sorry, but this... this is monumental! World-shaking! This could be a whole new era for what is that?" Sweetie Belle stared into the mirror, having finally noticed the bizarre creature hovering above her.

"That," answered Ditzy, "is a zubera."

Lyra nudged her. "And a zubera is...?"

"Well, that's a bit more complicated." Ditzy considered how to answer that question for a breath. "Well, as you know and Sweetie doesn't, there are worlds beyond Equestria."

"There are?" Sweetie Belle's eyes filled with wonder.

"There are. In one, called Kamigawa, everything that exists has a spiritual embodiment called a kami. Rocks, trees, moss, abstract concepts, all have associated kami. Zubera are the patron spirits of individual people. As near as I can tell, this particular zubera is you, Sweetie."

"Whoa." The filly gasped. "The fragments!"

Ditzy quirked an eyebrow. "Those crystals? What about them?"

"Those are..." Sweetie looked down. "Um, well, they're what's left of my Twilight Sparkle."

"They've been scattered among the myriad Equestrias," added Lyra.

"And when I find one, I move from world to world."

"Really?" Ditzy smiled. "Well—"

Lyra's eyes widened. "Uh, Ditzy? I just thought of something. This zubera thing isn't going to a repeat of that incident with the elementals, is it?"

Sweetie tore her gaze away from herselves. "Elementals?"

"Long story," answered Ditzy, "and no. Pony souls can, do, and are supposed to exist according to the universe's physical and magical laws. I'm not entirely sure why Sweetie's is taking that shape, but she's not going to harm reality just doing so."

Lyra relaxed. "Well, that's a relief."

"I don't care how long that story is," said Sweetie, "I want to hear it."

As Ditzy began to explain how Equestria was nearly unmade, Lyra kept an eye on Sweetie. Satisfied that the filly was engrossed, the older unicorn lit her horn, working a subtle little spell that vibrated the tiny bones in Ditzy's ear, generating a sound only the pegasus could hear. "Stall for time."

Ditzy showed no outward sign of having heard, but Lyra soon received a telepathic reply. Why?

"I did the math, and Sweetie's next stop is Universe Seven-One-Gamma."

Bad?

"Celestia's father is set on ruling the world with an iron hoof. Sweetie's father is his general. Equestria is consumed in civil war."

Ah. I'll try. Fragment's in my attic.

"It is?"

Found it years ago. Useful. Kept it.

"I shouldn't be surprised. What's with the brevity?"

Two conversations at once.

"Oh. Right."

Ditzy and Lyra told the truth to the Bearers, the other ETSAB agents, and those few others who could handle the truth. Everypony else got a slightly edited version: Sweetie had been in a magical accident that would take a few days to sort itself out.

In the meantime, Sweetie explored the strange instance of Ponyville.

"So what's that?"

Ditzy smiled. She'd always wanted to give a guided tour of her attic. The Multiverse-spanning assortment of artifacts was practically begging for it. Now, with the fragment safely in Lyra's possession, she had two fillies hanging on her every word as she demonstrated the myriad souvenirs of her wandering days.

"This?" She hefted a bizarre contraption that seemed made entirely of cranks, gears, hooks, hinges, and anything else that had been within reach. "What would you like it to be?" She fed mana into the transreliquat, making it fold itself into a peculiar replica of the staff she'd used just before.

"Cooool," Dinky and Sweetie chorused. They watched the device return to its inscrutable base form before searching for a new attraction. Sweetie gravitated towards a bookshelf she'd missed in the clutter. "What's in here?"

"Oh, tomes of arcane lore, airship blueprints, Dinky's baby photos..."

One foal's delight grew in direct proportion to the other's horror. "Really?" Sweetie gushed.

"H-hey, how about those blueprints?" Dinky said desperately.

Ditzy decided to take pity on her daughter. "I actually have a working model of an airship somewhere in here. Let's see if we can find it."

"And that's why an entire plane is afraid of the color pink!"

Sweetie's mind worked furiously, trying to decide if it was more fascinated or horrified by Pinkie Pie's story. Her mouth wore away at her milkshake in the meantime. Finally, she settled on a response with equal parts of each reaction. "Really?"

Pinkie pondered this. "Well, I haven't checked back on them in a couple centuries, so there may have been some cultural drift. Ooh! Want to hear about how I invented the fruitcake elemental?"

The filly grinned. "Sure!" It was just Pinkie Pie, she told herself. Granted, a Pinkie Pie with a darker sense of humor than normal, but still, Pinkie Pie. She'd never waste that much chocolate sauce.

Such are the lies we tell ourselves to remain sane.

"Are you sure?" Twilight's tail lashed in her discomfort. "I mean, given what happened to your teacher, I'm not sure if—"

"I'm sure." Sweetie smiled. "It's always nice to spend some time with you, Twilight, no matter which you you are."

"Well, if you're sure. You're sure?"

Sweetie nodded.

Twilight managed a small smile of her own and began magically lifting books out of her bedroom. "Well, then I'm sure you'll be a tremendous help with my current project, given the excellent credentials of your magic tutor."

This got a giggle. "What's the project, Miss Sparkle?"

Twilight's expression became a wonderfully familiar smirk, the sort she wore when facing down a subject that most ponies could hardly even pronounce, much less understand. "Planeswalker magic."

Once the other Crusaders had established that she was simply not their Sweetie Belle, they immediately asked about how she got her cutie mark. Sadly, the Grand Galloping Gala was several months away, so trying to replicate Sweetie's success would have to wait. As such, talk turned to what else had transpired in her travels.

"Colts? Colts?" Scootaloo gagged. "Ugh, I don't even want to think about me as a colt."

"You were kind of a jerk at first," Sweetie admitted.

"No surprise there. Just... ugh!" Scootaloo shuddered. "I'm never gonna be able to get the image out of my head now."

Sweetie thought of a remedy. "Rainbow Dash as a stallion."

Scootaloo paused in mid-grimace. Her gaze turned distant and her cheeks began to flush.

"Scoot? Scoot?" Apple Bloom waved a forehoof in front of the pegasus's face. "Equestria t' Scootaloo!" She shook her head. "Well, thanks a ton, Sweetie Belle. Y' broke 'er."

"It's okay. I can fix her." Sweetie conjured a splash of water into Scootaloo's face.

The pegasus sputtered and shook herself dry. "Gah! What was that for?"

"You gettin' all moon-eyed over Rainbow Dash as a stallion," huffed Apple Bloom.

Scootaloo swallowed. "W-well, it's, um... Hey, Sweetie, have any of those other usses ever gotten their cutie marks?"

Sweetie smirked. "That was literally the third thing you asked me."

"Oh. Yeah." Scootaloo sighed. "Well, at least one of you isn't going to remember this."

"Oh, Ah'll remind 'er."

The two local ponies locked gazes, one grinning, the other scowling. Sweetie hugged both before they could say anything they'd regret. "I missed this."

Ditzy and Lyra sat on a bench in the park, the latter in a way that couldn't be good for her spine. "It's been almost a week," Ditzy observed.

"Five days. Four if we're counting hours."

"Still, I think we've put it off as long as we can."

Lyra sighed. "I guess. It's just... I don't know. I have a really bad feeling about letting her go to that world."

Ditzy looked at Lyra's face. The unicorn refused eye contact, watching her hind hooves wave. "At least it isn't postapocalyptic."

"Six-Zero-Epsilon is rough, but Sweetie lucked out. She had the friendship of an immortal innocent. Odds are she won't be that lucky again."

"It isn't fair—"

"Oh. Fair!" Lyra barked out a laugh. "We both know how much 'it's not fair' gets you, Ditzy."

"Well, it isn't," Ditzy insisted. "Not to her or to our Sweetie Belle. Or did you forget about the filly who's been effectively comatose for five days? Four if we're counting hours."

The unicorn grimaced. "No." Both were silent for a bit. "Couldn't we at least wait until the end of the day?"

"We'll see."

Lyra finally faced Ditzy. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The pegasus got off the bench and stretched her limbs. "It'll be at Sweetie's discretion. I'm telling her we've found the fragment."

"You don't know where it is." Lyra brought her forehooves to her mouth, but the words had already escaped. "I didn't mean... I'm sorry."

Ditzy smiled "Don't be. You want to protect her. But you can't tie her down. You've seen her mark, Lyra. This is what she's meant to do."

"It's a big cosmic totality, Ditzy. There's a lot of room for stuff I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy, much less that filly."

Ditzy shut her eyes and took a deep breath. "You'll have to let her go at some point, and the longer you wait, the harder it will be."

"I never was one to rip off the bandage." A tingle in her horn made Lyra look up. "Wait, what are you—"

Rays of light flashed out of Ditzy's mane. "Taking the decision out of our hooves." She tilted her head, letting the fragment tumble into one of her wings. She folded it back, the crystal tucked up against her barrel. "I lent it to you. I'm giving it to Sweetie. Important distinction." With that, she walked away.

Part of Lyra knew she should let it happen. Part screamed at her to chase down the pegasus. She took the easier option. "Everypony do the flop."

Blink. Lyra looked around in confusion. "When did I get to the park?" She tapped a forehoof against her chin. "Or did the park come to me..." She shrugged. "Might as well make the most of it." She summoned her lyre, warmed up, and began a tune that had come to her in a dream. "While in the merry month of June, from me home I started..."

Sweetie Belle, Timeline Hopper 1U
Legendary Creature — Unicorn Wizard
Whenever you cast an instant, sorcery, or Unicorn spell, put a level counter on Sweetie Belle, Timeline Hopper.
1/2
Level 2-5> Instant, sorcery, and Unicorn spells you cast cost 1 less to cast.
2/3
Level 6+> Spells you cast cost 2 less to cast.
Spells you don't cast that target you, spells you control, and/or permanents you control cost 2 more to cast.
3/5

Soulspark Fragment 4
Artifact
Spells cost 1 less to cast.
T: Spells cost an additional 1 less to cast this turn.
Scattered across all possible Equestrias, each shard of Twilight Sparkle has all of her power and none of her control.

Author's Note

Yeah, since I started this idea, Wanderer D published not one but two chapters of The Sweetie Chronicles. Sometimes these take a while. :twilightsheepish: In any case, I chose to keep this where it began in the Chronicles timeline for reasons that will likely be obvious to anyone who's caught up with the story. In any case, I hope I did it justice. Continuity jumping stories are always fun with my take on the setting.

I don't know why I really like the idea of Lyra singing "On the Rocky Road to Dublin," but I do. So I threw it in. It's a 19th century folk song, so I think it's still okay.

Oh, and on the off chance someone's keeping track:

Eight-Six-Epsilon: The Best Night Ever/This Platinum Crown
Seven-One-Gamma: The Immortal Game
Six-Zero-Epsilon: Fallout: Equestria

I have a list of such designations. There are currently ninety-three entries. I may have a problem.

Ascendant Friendship

Sunset in Canterlot had become quite the sight over the last few years, the royal sisters making a show of it as Luna regained her strength. As the day gave way to night, stars came into visibility, promising bright days to come even as the sun sank beneath the horizon.

Well, it usually sank. This night, it staggered a bit. Celestia told herself nopony would notice; it wasn't like they'd be looking directly at it.

"What is it, sister?" Well, nopony but Luna.

Celestia smiled. "Didn't you feel it just now? Something wonderful has happened."

Luna tilted her head. Her eyes widened after a moment. "Ah! Focused as I was on tonight's canvas, I hadn't noticed." She smiled. "Go on, then. She's your student."

"Not anymore. I have nothing more to teach her."

Luna smirked. "Then go attend the graduation. I can handle everything from here."

Celestia dipped her head. "Thank you." She shut her eyes and willed herself upward, to that supernal realm unknowable to mundane creatures. And Twilight Sparkle had just become anything but mundane.

"Congratulations, Twilight. I knew you could do it."

"See? The Princess is here, we'll be fine."

Celestia's eyes snapped open. Rainbow Dash was a mare of many fine qualities, but for her to—

The "we" registered just as Celestia took in the half-dozen ponies before her. Each had the right cutie mark, each wore her Element of Harmony, and each was practically humming with magic.

Twilight trotted to her. "Princess!" She gazed up at Celestia, eyes shining. "What is this place? When I completed Star Swirl's spell, the Elements had some kind of cascade reaction. I thought we were..." She trailed off.

"You are not," said Celestia, silently grateful for the millennium of solo politicking she'd had to endure. It allowed her mouth to run on automatic as her mind scrambled to make sense of this. "You are here because you were able to reaffirm the bond that has existed between you even before you met." Yes, the Sonic Rainboom letter, brilliant! "By coming together as one, you have not only demonstrated your virtue as Bearers of the Elements of Harmony. You have proven that you are all ready."

"Uh..." Applejack adjusted her hat, which had apparently followed her to the Astral Realm. "Ready fer what?"

Celestia opened her mouth to reply, then froze. Her jaw dropped further as the implications sunk in. "Oh dear."

Most of the mares all started looking around for threats, Fluttershy most frantically of all. Pinkie Pie simply smiled. And Rarity asked, "What seems to be the problem, Your Highness?"

"You're... you're all—"

Six flashes of light interrupted Celestia. She shut her eyes and put a hoof over them. Before now, all alicorns had been born, not made. The magical output of ascendance would be blinding for anypony else. Half a dozen of them at once would be too much even for her.

"You can look now, Tia."

Celestia shook as she lowered her leg. That voice didn't belong to any of the Bearers. It was almost wholly unfamiliar, but it tickled faint memories. Celestia opened her eyes and beheld only one alicorn, standing between her and the Bearers. The newcomer's coat was even whiter than hers, the red mane and tail naught but mundane hair. Yet the quiet power coming off of that mare drove all present to silence.

"Lauren!"

Except Pinkie Pie.

"Lauren" wrapped the party pony in a winged embrace. "Hi, Mom."

"Mom?" cried all the Bearers but Twilight.

The word clicked, and Celestia blinked. "Mother?"

Lauren nodded. "Hello, Tia. It's been a while."

Celestia turned to Pinkie. "Grandmother?"

Pinkie nodded, drawing attention to her unadorned neck.

"What happened to the Element of Laughter?" said Celestia.

"Back where it belongs." Discord materialized and landed at Lauren's side. "It's good to have you back, sister."

"Sister!?" Celestia looked from her mother to Discord. "Uncle!?"

He smirked. "Niece."

"Y'know," Applejack said to nopony in particular, "Granny always told me hangin' around with Pinkie Pie'd drive me nuts. Didn't think she'd take everypony else with 'er."

Pinkie giggled. "I'm very efficient when I want to be."

"I... but..." Celestia sputtered. "What?"

"The Bearers and I had a nice feedback loop going," said Lauren. "They used my comatose form, boosting my magic with their own and vice versa. That destiny spell Twilight modified brought us straight to the endgame."

Rainbow Dash glared at Discord. "So what's he doing here?"

Rarity nodded. "Indeed. It was my understanding that we'd scattered him to the four winds."

Lauren shrugged her wings. "He's my brother. As spirit of order and harmony, it's well within my power to reassemble him."

"It rather stung." Discord rubbed his midsection.

Celestia fell back on her haunches. "So, the Bearers aren't going to become alicorns?"

Lauren shook her head. "Oh no, that's still going to happen."

"We're what!?" chorused the ponies in question. As if in response, they began to float, light shining from their chests.

And indeed, even Celestia found it blinding.

The drama of sunset was coming to a close, the last reds of the sky giving way to cool blues and blacks. Earlier, many Ponyvillians had gone out to inspect the light show at the library, but all they found were oddly shaped scorch marks and a very confused baby dragon. Ditzy Doo hadn't found anything at all, still dazzled by the mana flash, even with almost a mile and several intervening buildings between her and the event.

As such, when space twisted itself about the library tree, nopony but Lyra noticed.

"Woohoo!" Pinkie bounced into the air, then opened her wings and spiralled back down. "I'm immortal again! I'm omnipotent again!"

"Alicorns aren't omnipotent, Pinkie," said Twilight. She turned to Celestia. "We aren't omnipotent, are we?"

"Not that I've noticed." Celestia looked around. Eight. Counting herself, there were eight alicorns here. There had never been eight alicorns in one place. "Would anypony else like a drink? I may need to drink this town dry, so you should take the opportunity while you can."

"Um, Princess Celestia?"

Celestia turned and smiled. "Fluttershy, you have not needed to use titles with me for a long time, and now you are my equal even in ways you weren't before."

"That's kinda th' problem, Yer, uh, Celestia." Applejack strode to Fluttershy's side, her orange wings twitching. "Are we gonna have t' be princesses ourselves?"

"Yes, are we?" Rarity sidled next to Applejack, lashes fluttering.

"I don't want to be a princess," said Fluttershy. "I don't even know if I want to be an alicorn."

Celestia looked among them. "Uh, well..." No amount of politicking could have prepared her for this.

"Yes, Celestia, what will you do now that your brilliant little plan doubled the alicorn population?"

She turned to Discord. He seemed entirely too pleased with himself. She glared at him. "This is a dream, isn't it? One of your tricks."

Everything but Celestia and Discord froze in place. "A sort of dream," he said, "but not a very tricky one. I tapped into that delightfully unpredictable prophetic ability of yours, both to lend some credence and to fill in some gaps."

"How much of this was true?"

Discord chuckled. "Really, now. You're asking me that, o Bearer of Cunning? It doesn't matter if I say it was the unvarnished truth, nothing but varnish, or anything in between. We both know you won't trust me. Indeed, I might tell the truth precisely because you won't trust me!"

Celestia glared at him. She wasn't Luna; there was little else she could do in a dream. "Then this was all some pointless joke?"

"Oh, far from pointless," said Discord. "This was a warning. Remember, Celestia, plans can go horribly right, especially when you're toying with forces far beyond your understanding."

Celestia sighed. She was already getting the familiar headache that only seemed to come when dealing with the draconequus. "At least tell me what will happen."

Discord shrugged. "I have no idea."

"Discord..."

He smiled and shook his head. "You see? We're back at the question of trust. I truly do not know. You have inconsistent but accurate flickers of future knowledge. I have constant but approximate future knowledge. I don't use it much; it usually makes life far less interesting. But the ripples thrown up by a spell that manipulates destiny itself..." A genuine smile crossed Discord's lips. "Oh, I wish you could see time as I do, Celestia. It really is quite beautiful. It'd drive you mad, but still.

"Ah, but I ramble. The point to take away from this is that the probable outcomes of this little experiment of yours—not just possible but probable—are almost without number. If you're going to prepare at all, prepare for every result you can think of, from complete and total failure to everything I just showed you, including the bits that were just wishful thinking on my part."

"Which were—" Celestia shook her head. "Never mind."

Discord grinned and patted her on the head. "Good, you're learning!"

"Why are you doing this?"

He sighed. "Or maybe you aren't."

"If you expect me to follow this advice, I'd like to know why." Celestia frowned. "Assuming I even remember it."

"Another fun bit of uncertainty that. And really, uncertainty is why. The collective consciousness may be a nicer prison than petrification, but it still gets boring. This business with Star Swirl's Unfinished Synergy splits off in so many directions, and the ones where I deliver this message seem even more interesting than those where I don't. And the more cryptic, the better." Discord stroked his chin. "Really, I may have said too much already. Best you wake up now."

And Celestia did.

Surreal Insight 3U
Instant
Look at the top four cards of your library. Put one of those cards into your hand, one on top of your library, one on the bottom of your library, and one into your graveyard.
No sane creature can fathom how Discord sees the world

Author's Note

The problem with April Fools chapters of larger stories is that they feel out of place 364.25 days of the year. Better to have the unexpected twist happen to the characters than the reader.

Draining Whelp

Twilight Sparkle trudged through Ponyville, her legs in chains. Her bonds had barely enough give in them to let her shuffle forward, giving her plenty of time to take in what had become of the town. Nothing felt right, even beyond the supernatural numbness that came from the nullifier ring on her horn. It took Twilight a few moments to realize that the piles of dead organic matter were houses, that the refractive gas overhead was the sky, even that the self-perpetuating chemical reactions around her were ponies. Twilight recognized herself and the sun, but almost everything else felt unfamiliar and wrong.

Worse than struggling to recognize ponies for what they were was seeing their expressions. There was no sorrow on their faces as she slowly passed by, no horror, defiant hope, betrayed fury, or even sadistic joy. All Twilight saw was resignation, in some cases bordering on apathy. They had expected her to fail.

Twilight turned her attention to the three young mares escorting her, one at each hip and the third leading her to their destination. At least they felt like ponies. "Girls, please," she said just loud enough for them to hear, moving her head back and forth to catch them all in her peripheral vision. "You can help me. You can fight her."

Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle looked away. Apple Bloom had the excuse of keeping her eyes forward. "Can't do either, Miss Twilight," she muttered. "She's got us on a real tight leash. Prob'ly shouldn't even be talkin' to ya."

"We're here," Scootaloo said more loudly.

Twilight looked up and saw the Golden Oak Library. She recognized it for what it was, but it still felt wrong. It should've been a welcome sight, a home she hadn't seen in years. Instead, all she felt upon seeing it was dread.

Apple Bloom opened the door and led the prisoner in.

Twilight's jaw dropped. At first, she thought—she hoped—that she was just seeing things. A second look confirmed that Celestia's throne really had taken the place of the central reading table. Celestia and Luna really were sitting on their haunches at each arm of the throne, their eyes glowing a faint blue. The conqueror of Equestria really was sitting on her appropriated throne.

She smiled. "Hello, Twilight."

The older unicorn marshaled herself. Though the sight broke her heart, she could still face it with dignity. "Hello, Dinky."

Dinky nodded to the Crusaders. "You've done well, girls. Go with my blessing." They rushed out the door as fast as their hooves could take them.

Twilight kept her focus on the teenager before her. "Why are you doing this, Dinky?"

"Sometimes ponies are more useful with their magic than without it," said Dinky, taking on an instructive tone. She waved a hoof before here in a wide arc. "Take the princesses. I might be able to move the sun and moon if I took their power, but I thought it best to leave the heavens in the hooves of experienced professionals." She grinned. "Of course, burning out their higher cognitive functions helped. Easy, too, given how magical the alicorn nervous system is."

Twilight glared at her. Better that than looking what become of her mentor and friends. "That isn't what I meant and you know it. You were such a kind filly. You even helped save the world. Why conquer it?"

"Hmm. I wonder." Dinky made a show of putting a hoof to her chin. "Why would a nullmage take over the magical land of Equestria?" She sneered. "Isn't it obvious? This is my destiny. My only role in the magic of harmony is to silence it."

"That doesn't have to be true! You could—"

"Twilight. Stop." Dinky shook her head. "You aren't going to convince me. You aren't going to befriend me. I've known my role for a long time."

Twilight sighed, then settled herself into the firmest stance she could manage with shackles above her knees. "I had hoped we could settle this peacefully. I suppose I'll just have to stop you."

Dinky laughed long and hard at that. "Seriously? I beat you when I barely had any idea what I was doing and you had literally all of the magic in the world at your disposal."

"You had literally infinite power at the time."

"Details. The point is that I now sit triumphant, almost full to bursting with the magic of the ponies and the land both, while you're wearing an inhibitor ring." Dinky lit her horn and tossed a twisted chunk of gold at Twilight's hooves. Twilight gasped when she recognized the mangled setting of the Element of Magic. "With your magic, I'll have drained an even dozen Elements and Bearers."

"You forgot one thing," said Twilight, looking back at Dinky, grim purpose in her heart and gaze.

Dinky raised an eyebrow. "Do tell."

"This kind of inhibitor ring doesn't block internally directed magic." Twilight vanished in a burst of light, leaving her physical and magical fetters to fall on the library floor.

Dinky rolled her eyes and fired a beam at the recently vacated space. After a few seconds, Twilight reappeared, paralyzed within the tracer spell, eyes wide and mouth agape. Dinky grinned. "I know. Thank you for the lead on the resistance headquarters. I do hope you were foolish enough to teleport there directly; it will make what comes next so much easier. But right now, I'm going to do to you what I did to... to my..." Her gaze turned distant as her expression became a mask of horror. "Mommy?"

Dinky thrashed in her tangled covers, screaming loud and shrill. Her limbs stiffened for a moment, but she broke the weak telekinesis with barely a thought. Only when she felt the fuzzy warmth of another pony holding her did she realize hers were not the only screams.

"Calm down, Dinky! Please!"

Dinky went still, opening her eyes. The sun peeked through her blinds. The blinds in her bedroom in her family's house. She was still a little filly, and her dad was holding her. "Where's Mommy?" she asked, her voice scratchy and throat sore from her panic.

"She isn't here right now," said Address Unknown.

"Where is she?" Dinky said, her throat even drier.

Address held her tighter. "She's at work. You were exhausted after the Summer Harvest Parade, and we decided you should sleep in. One of us had to stay with you for when you woke up and, well, I'll take any chance I can get to catch up on what I missed."

Dinky squirmed enough to look him in the eyes. "She's okay?"

"She's fine, Dinky. Are you okay?"

Dinky tightened her own hold. "Just a bad dream," she tried to convince herself. "Just a bad dream."

"I see." Address sighed. "I'm barely even used to being a father, and you're already growing up on me. It's a good thing I'm the one who stayed at home."

Dinky released him. "Huh?"

Address gave a sheepish smile. "It's sort of the unicorns' dirty little secret. We don't tell the other tribes about it, mostly because of how embarrassing it is."

"What is it?"

"I think you already know. Do you remember your dream?"

Dinky hesitated, biting her lip. After a few moments, she nodded and whispered, "I had hurt a lot of ponies, including Mommy. I was about to hurt Miss Twilight."

Address sighed and nodded. "That's our shameful secret, alright. Soon after unicorns discover their special talents, they dream of taking over the world."

"Even you?" Dinky asked, eyes wide.

Postmaster General Address Unknown smirked from within his web of information. The private couriers were gone, legislated out of existence. All knowledge, all communication, passed through the post. Through subtle social manipulation and conveniently lost letters, even talking was considered somewhat gauche. Celestia was naught but his puppet. Equestria was his to control.

Cackling, Address planned his most devastating policy yet: He'd raise stamp prices by a cent!

Address nodded, smiling at something. "Yes, even me. But just because you have a dream doesn't mean you need to act on it. And the way you reacted to that dream tells me that you are very good little pony indeed."

Dinky managed a small smile of her own. "Thanks, Dad."

"Of course." Address ruffled her mane. "Come on downstairs. I'll make you some waffles."

Dinky, Spell Tyrant 2WU
Legendary Creature — Unicorn Wizard
Hexproof
Whenever a spell or ability you control counters a spell, you get an experience counter.
Spells your opponents cast cost 1 more to cast for each experience counter you have.
1/2

Author's Note

No small amount of inspiration for this came from Dinky vs. the Moon. I just love the portrayal of casually megalomaniacal Dinky there.

Thankfully, while this instance of Dinky does have the potential to be downright horrifying, she's being raised right.

Is Ditz Your Card?

Three girls sat at a lunch table in the Canterlot High cafeteria. One, with a partial sphere of curly blue hair, was hunched over a notebook, scribbling furiously. The other two were engaged in a card game.

"So," said Blue Oyster, "what are we doing for the Musical Showcase?"

"Play Raid Bombardment," said Raspberry Fluff, whose hair lived up to her name. She turned to Blue. "And since when are we doing something for the Showcase? I don't even play an instrument."

"I... sort of do," said Ditzy Doo. "You attacking with the Spitfires, Razz?"

"Yup. That's lethal with all the triggers."

"No, it's two. Fog. I go to nine life."

Raspberry groaned. "Of course. Your turn."

"Come on, you two!" Blue slammed her hands on the table and rose to her feet. "This is my chance to give the greatest, most noble of all instruments the recognition it deserves!"

Ditzy quirked an eyebrow. "You have an unhealthy obsession with cowbells. You do know that, right?"

"It's not an obsession!"

"It is," said Raspberry. "It'd probably be your thing if you were a Harmonist."

Ditzy cleared her throat and gave a sharp shake of her head.

"Sorry."

Ditzy took a deep breath and said, "Play a Golgari Guildgate and an Expedition Map. Your go."

"Seriously, I think we could really wow them," said Blue. "A cowbell and a musical saw? No other band's going to have that. We'll be original. Avante-garde, even!"

"And where do I factor into this?" said Raspberry. She drew a card and beamed. "Ha! Play Short Fuse herself to go with her Spitfires! Plus one to your face!"

"A triangle."

Raspberry paused in midbounce. Both she and Ditzy turned to Blue. "Excuse me?"

"You can play a triangle," Blue repeated. She crossed her arms and nodded to herself. "Simple to learn, and it's another instrument the Showcase will be lacking. Plus, we'll probably be able to bum one from the band room. Ditzy, you've still got that in with the weird girl, right?"

"She has a name," said Ditzy. "Lyra Heartstrings."

"Yeah, and she also begged the statue out front to take her to Horseland for a week."

"Equestria."

Blue shrugged. "Whatever."

"Hey, Ditzy?" said Raspberry. "Attacking you with Spitfires for the win. Got a response?"

"Oh. Putrefy one before combat. I take..."

"One from Short Fuse, four from the Spitfire since it was too powerful for Bombardment to trigger. You're at four," Blue rattled off. "So, can you get that triangle?"

"I can try," said Ditzy. "No guarantees. You do know that this is a half-baked idea, right?"

Blue beamed. "That's it!"

Her friends looked at one another, then back at her. "What is?" asked Raspberry.

"That's what we'll call ourselves! Half-Baked!"

Ditzy made a face like she'd just stepped in something. "That's a terrible name."

"It worked for Osmium Airship," said Blue.

Ditzy shook her head. "It sounds like we're stoners."

"And most people wouldn't come up with a cowbell, triangle, and musical saw trio without chemical assistance," said Raspberry.

"Come on," said Blue, "we can even use a muffin-quaver for the logo!"

Raspberry tilted her head. "We have a logo now?"

"Razz, my turn?"

"Yeah."

Blue crossed her arms. "Well, we'll need a logo."

"End of your turn, use the Map for Selesnya Guildgate."

Raspberry scratched her head. "What's a quaver, anyway?"

Blue rolled her eyes. "An eighth note, duh."

Raspberry didn't look any more enlightened. Ditzy said, "The one with the dealie on the end opposite the dot."

"Oh..." Raspberry nodded, then considered the game. "Crap, you're gonna win."

Ditzy nodded. "Yup. My turn, untap, upkeep, draw, play Selenya Guildgate."

"Maze's End for Orzhov Guildgate," Raspberry sighed.

"Complete the Implicit Maze, become master of Ravnica, and, as you noted, win the game." Ditzy grinned. Both girls gaped at her. She looked from one to the other. "What? It's a Maze's End deck. You've both played against it before."

Raspberry shook in her seat. "Y-yeah, but you don't usually doesn't become a horse-angel when you win."

"Huh?" Ditzy felt along the top of her head. Ears. She looked behind her. Wings and hair long enough to touch the floor. "Who put that scrunchie there?"

"I think it showed up with the extra hair," said Blue, her eyes darting about the changes.

"This..." Ditzy bolted up. "Guys, I don't know what to do."

Blue cleared her throat. "Well, first, you may want to land."

"Huh?" Ditzy looked down. Sure enough, she was hovering a few inches above her seat. "Ah!" Some reflex she didn't remember having flew her higher. "AH!"

Her scream was matched by one from the head of the Gardening Club, who was pointing at her. "The mutations are contagious!"

The cafeteria seemed to erupt at that:

"Wait, they're contagious? I want wings."

"Mutations don't work that way!"

"Derpy Shoes is airborne? Duck and cover!"

"The ears are actually kind of cute."

"This is going to get so many views."

"I really like her hair!"

"Everyone!" The hubbub died and all eyes turned to Sunset Shimmer, who was standing in front of Ditzy, her arms spread. "Magic is not contagious! You're all safe!"

"Oh, sure!" someone shouted. "You don't get wings, so neither do the rest of us!"

"What?" Sunset blinked. "That's not—"

Ditzy hovered above Sunset. "Hey, back off! She—" Her extra features chose that moment to vanish. "Oh poop." She dropped, but Sunset was able to lean back and catch her. However, that sent Sunset tumbling backwards, though Raspberry Fluff was able to support her.

Once the girls had collected themselves, Sunset nodded to Raspberry. "Thanks."

The other girl looked away. "Oh. Um. Well, thanks for catching Ditzy."

"Yeah, way to go, Queen Bitch."

"Blue!" Ditzy scowled at her.

Sunset looked away. "It's fine. Honestly, I deserve worse."

Blue nodded. "Yes. Yes, you do."

"Blue!" Ditzy cried. "Come on!"

"What? She doesn't mind!"

Sunset rubbed an elbow with her opposite hand. "Ditzy, you may want to come to Practice Room B after school. You're not the only one who does this." She looked from Ditzy's smile to Raspberry's averted eyes to Blue's scowl. "I should go."

Ditzy frowned as Sunset went back to her own table. "What the crap was that, Blue Oyster?"

"You don't seriously expect me to believe she turned over a new leaf fast enough to set it on fire, do you?"

"When a giant friendship rainbow is involved?" Ditzy threw her arms up. "Yes! Yes, I do!"

Blue shrugged. "I was sick that whole week, remember?"

"That doesn't change the giant friendship rainbow!"

"And that doesn't change everything Shimmer did before that."

"Well, I'm going to get some answers," said Ditzy. "And I think you should apologize."

"I'll apologize when she does," Blue huffed.

"Um, she has," said Raspberry.

Ditzy nodded. "Publicly and repeatedly!"

"After the Showcase, then."

Raspberry and Ditzy shared a stunned look. The former said, "You're serious about that?"

"Cowbells are serious business. Ditzy can go and plumb the mysteries of the universe. I'll plan how we'll take the musical world by storm. We'll see which of us can finish her seemingly impossible task first."

Ditzy couldn't help but smile. "You've got yourself a deal. But I think I have an edge. After all, why would Sunset invite me if they didn't know all about this?"

"What do you mean you don't know all about this!?" Ditzy blinked. "Wow, I really set myself up for that one."

Rainbow Dash shrugged. "Who cares why it happens? It's awesome."

"Who cares?" Ditzy echoed. "I care! And I thought you girls would, because you're violating the conservation of energy every time you play music!"

"Ah figger it's a case o' not lookin' a gift horse in th' mouth," said Applejack.

Pinkie, still at her drums, provided a rimshot.

Applejack winced. "Ah suppose it's too late t' say 'no pun intended'?"

"Way too late," Pinkie said with a smile.

"It's all well and good to ask these questions," said Rarity, "but where would we find any answers?"

Ditzy rolled her eyes. "Gee, I don't know. How about the magical unicorn?" She stuck both arms at Sunset Shimmer as though presenting a game show prize.

"Ex-magical unicorn," noted the ex-magical unicorn from her seat on a piano bench, head hung low.

Ditzy shrugged. "It's a land-of-the-blind situation. You're still the best authority we have on the matter."

"I haven't exactly had a chance to keep up with the latest developments in thaumatology," said Sunset.

"Again, land of the blind. You're the one-eyed woman. Which may make you a graeae in this context, especially given the pegasi." Ditzy shook her head. "The point is, some input would be appreciated."

"I, um..." All eyes turned to Fluttershy (though one was listing a bit to the left.) "Could you calm down just a little?"

Dash nodded. "Yeah, this doesn't need to be a big deal."

Ditzy sighed. "Look, I can understand if the novelty's worn off for all of you, but this was my first time growing additional limbs. I'm still kind of worked up over this, and I want to understand it." She looked about the room, taking in the various looks of concern and, in a few cases, a bit of fright. "Though I suppose I should tone it down a little."

"It'd be nice." Sunset sighed and rose. "I admit, I have been thinking about this. Bear in mind that this is all hypothetical."

"I will beat that idiom into the ground if I have to," said Ditzy.

"So you're—"

"No, Pinkie, I'm not beating a dead horse." Ditzy frowned. "And I'm pretty sure that's racially insensitive somehow."

"Anyway..." Sunset began to pace. "When you all helped Princess Twilight channel the power of Harmony, it likely infused you with some vestigial magic. The mundane harmony of music would then temporarily activate it."

"Wait, wait, wait." Dash held up her hands. "You're telling me Harmonism's a thing in Ponyland?"

"Equestria," said Sunset. "Ponyland was destroyed ages ago, if it ever existed. And no, not exactly. I still don't understand the religion here. No one seems to talk about it."

This produced six flavors of awkwardness, from "hand rubbing back of neck" to "avoiding eye contact" to "nervous chuckle."

"It's... personal," said Fluttershy.

Sunset shrugged. "Anyway, Harmony is a fundamental magical concept in Equestria. My whole plan hinged on using one of its major foci, powerful enough to function even here." She slumped. "You all know how that went."

Pinkie popped up behind Sunset and gave her a hug. "Don't feel bad, Shim-Sham! We rainbowed you in the face and now you're one of the nicest people I know!"

"Please don't ever call me 'Shim-Sham' again."

"You see? The old you would've never said 'please'!"

"So," said Ditzy, hand on her chin, "it's the whole sympathetic magic thing. Little to big, like to like, and apparently pop rock to ears and wings."

"I guess. Maybe." Sunset sagged in Pinkie's arms. "It's barely a hypothesis, and I don't have any way of testing it."

"Aw, cheer up!" Pinkie raised her arms and shook, jolting Sunset out of her funk.

Ditzy smiled. "It's a lot more to go on than I had before."

Sunset's gaze sank to the floor. "But it does nothing to explain you."

The smile became a smirk. "Not on its own, no. But what if we take my cool pegasus self into account?"

"Well, that could fit the pattern of exposure to magic if—" Sunset blinked. "'Cool pegasus self'? She was a pegasus?"

Ditzy nodded. "That's what she said."

Dash scowled. "You got a problem with that?"

Sunset shook her head. "Dash, I'm not being tribalist."

"Triba-what now?"

Sunset started to pace again. "Prejudice against other kinds of ponies. Not the point. The point is that pegasus magic is mostly innate. Flight, walking on clouds, crash resistance, that sort of thing. Even their actively applied magic is mostly focused on weather manipulation. Pegasi don't create force fields or communicate telepathically. They don't cast magic that manipulates other magic. They can't do any of that; their thaumic systems aren't designed to do any of that, no more than mine was designed for flight.

"You all have to understand, I was one of the five most powerful unicorns in Equestria when I left, and without the Element of Magic, I haven't been able to produce a single spark of magic in this world. I had thought she was a unicorn with some trick or magical item I lacked. Even when I saw Ditzy's wings at lunch today, I thought, 'Okay, she said something about alternate universes. Maybe that Ditzy was a unicorn.' But if she described herself as a pegasus—" Sunset rushed up to Ditzy and grabbed her by the shoulders. "This isn't possible! Your duplicate isn't possible!"

"Sunset?" Applejack put a hand on Sunset's left shoulder. "Y' may want t' calm down."

"Yeah, take it down a couple notches," Dash said from her other side.

"We can figure this out, Sunset." Ditzy's calm words belied her wide eyes and plastered smile. "Just relax. And maybe let go of me."

"Sorry." Sunset relaxed her grip and stepped back. "Sorry. I'm cool." The others gave her some space. "It's just... Ditzy, your pony version violated everything I thought I knew about magic while she was here, and she did it all over again just now."

"Hmm..." Ditzy rubbed her chin, eyes slowly drifting ever more out of alignment. "I think I know why. You said music triggers pony magic because both are harmonic, right?"

Sunset gave a slow nod. "By two very different definitions of the word, yes. But that's just a hypothesis."

"And I'm building on it. So, if the Rainbooms playing music activates their magic, what does it say when me winning a card game activates mine?"

Sunset blinked, then shook her head. "You can't possibly be serious."

"It's only logical. Like I said, sympathetic magic. Symbols and such."

Rarity tilted her head. "Is anyone else lost?"

Fluttershy just nodded.

Applejack shrugged. "Ah figgered we should sit back an' let 'em jaw at each other fer a while. They'll get back t' plain speakin' once they got it puzzled out."

"I'm following every word," said Pinkie.

"Why ain't Ah surprised?"

"Because you're not my great-grandma."

"I think," said Ditzy, "that my cool pony self was a planeswalker."

"That's absurd," said Sunset.

"As absurd as a rampaging she-demon crushing the front of the school with the power of her mind?" Ditzy paused. "Um, no offense."

Sunset rolled her eyes, grumbling, "None taken."

"No, seriously, no offense intended. Looking back, that was actually really cool."

"It was," said Dash. "Like, 'heavy metal album cover' cool."

"The point is, if we go by the same logic, that's the conclusion we come to. You've talked a lot about all the things the game gets wrong based on what you know about magic. Well, the other me doesn't seem to follow magic as you know it, so..." Ditzy trailed off, prompting Sunset with a spread hand.

"I understand the logic, but..." Sunset shook her head. "If some game company can extrapolate a valid alternate model of thaumology, that has some worrisome implications about pretty much all fiction."

"Okay," said Dash, "I'm sure that this has some really deep meaning or whatever, but we're forgetting one very important question."

Rarity quirked an eyebrow. "And that would be?"

"Ditzy, are you gonna be using this in the Musical Showcase? 'Cause if you are, we're really gonna need to step it up. The whole 'ears and wings' thing was gonna be our thing."

Ditzy opened her mouth, but said nothing for a decent stretch. Finally, she shut it and shook her head.

Extrapolate 1U
Sorcery
Draw a card, then discard a card.
Storm (When you cast this spell, copy it for each spell cast before it this turn.)
"Now, what can we conclude from this?"

Author's Note

I have a Rainbow Rocks snippet in the works, so in the spirit of the movie, I thought I'd lead up to it with a short featuring one of the human characters sprouting ears. Of course, when your residual magic is from associating with your planeswalking alternate self rather than powering the Rainbow Beam of Fix Everything™, Single-Element Edition®, the formula's going to change a little.

The mix of actual names and altered ones is pretty much a collection of spur-of-the-moment decisions. (Basically, I just didn't want to come up with new names for Magic setting pieces, but "Chandra Nalaar" probably isn't a name that this universe is going to come up with.)

Ave Discordia

"The second rule is that everypony has to play or the game is over, and I win."

"OBJECTION!" All eyes turned to Pinkie Pie, who'd slammed the path with far more volume than hooves on compacted dirt should've produced.

"Oh, what are you griping about?" groused Discord. "Of all ponies present, I thought for certain that I had you in my corner, Pinkie."

"Elementary, my good Discord."

"Fetlock Holmes never actually said that," Twilight grumbled. With a flash of light, her mouth vanished from her face, prompting a loud, muffled protest.

"Hush, child," commanded the draconequus, "the adults are speaking." He turned back to the party pony. "You were saying?"

"You've already lost your own game."

Discord brought a talon to his chest in mock offense. "Moi?"

"Vous."

He smirked. "Well, you'll have to excuse me if I don't immediately forfeit at your say-so, petite." The spirit of disharmony's expression became frighteningly serious. "Support your thesis."

"Gladly." Pinkie adjusted the glasses she hadn't been wearing a moment ago. "Your second rule indicates that you can win the game, implying that you are playing it, and consequentially that you are subject to its rules. Given the dewinging and -horning of our party, it can be inferred that said rules are being enforced as we speak. As such, your continued levitation and teleportation break the no-flying, no-magic rule. QED."

This merited a brief, polite round of applause. "Oh, well done, well done. I can find but a single flaw in your argument, but alas, it is a fatal one."

"What?"

The chimera spread his mismatched arms wide. "I'm Discord! Remember? Spirit of chaos and disharmony? The rules don't apply to me by definition."

Pinkie frowned, but not in defeat. "So it's a rigged game. You can't lose."

"Now you're getting it!"

She shrugged. "Well, then there's no point in playing."

The draconequus drooped. "What."

Applejack nodded. "So much fer no cheatin'."

"Um..." Rainbow Dash shuffled awkwardly. "Guys, you may not have noticed, but some of us can't exactly walk away from this."

Discord nodded. "The ambiguously gay wonder raises a valid point."

"What did you call me?"

He continued, paying no heed to the indignant speedster. "Are you really going to abandon your friends to a hornless, wingless drudgery of an existence?"

"Drudgery!?" Applejack shouted indignantly.

Pinkie was unmoved. "So you've gone from offering an exciting contest with the fate of the world at stake to extorting body parts." She shook her head. "Son, I am disappoint."

"Son!?" exclaimed the others (except Twilight, who still got out an "Mmm?")

The incarnation's expression became a similar blend of regret and frustration. "I'm sorry to hear that, mother, but I'd like to see what effect millennia of petrification would have on your sense of fair play."

The poofy-maned mare gave a resigned sigh and softly, sadly said "I'm sorry." Then she rose on her hind legs and brought her front hooves together in a single solemn clop.

Wngs and horns returned to their rightful places among her friends in a flash identical to the one that heralded their disappearance. Those same extremities then vanished from Discord, who fell on his face. The look thereon was positively murderous. "You dare?"

"I must." Pinkie gave a second clop, and Twilight's mouth reappeared at the apparent cost of the chimera's. The party pony turned to her studious friend. "Twilight, we're going to need to use the Elements now."

The unicorn was horrified. "We could do more harm to Equestria than Discord ever could!"

"You don't trust us?"

"I don't trust myself!"

Pinkie embraced the unicorn. "Don't believe in Twilight."

"Huh?"

"Believe in the Twilight who believes in Pinkie. Believe in the Pinkie who believes—"

"Oh, please!" Discord had apparently managed to reopen his mouth. "Do or do not, just spare me the played-out references!" He glared daggers at the party pony, a retort already on her lips. "And yes, I am fully aware of the irony."

The pink mare grinned. "You heard him."

Twilight swallowed. "Okay. But if we end up destroying the universe, it's your fault." With that, she closed her eyes and focused on memories she'd planned on quietly forgetting. No glow came to her horn, but her eyes shined with golden refulgence when next she opened them.

Whatever the chaos spirit had been expecting, that wasn't it. The power radiating from the unicorn was nothing like her previous displays. It was of an intensity he'd expect from one of the royal pains in the neck who'd stoned him in the first place. Worse, while it clearly wasn't the magic of one of the alicorn sisters, it was distressingly familiar. "I don't understand." He blinked, then cackled at the novelty. "I really don't understand! How are you doing this?"

"An Element o' Harmony's more'n just some fancy necklace or big crown thingy." Applejack's eyes were solid, brilliant green, seemingly consumed by their irises.

So to were Rarity's, azure light streaming from her sockets. "For all our faults, each of us is a paragon of her Element."

With eyes glowing crimson and a devil-may-care smirk, Dash seemed about as menacing as a pastel pony could. "You didn't hide them away any more than foalnapping Celestia would leave us without a princess."

"We represent them as much as the jewelry, if not more." By contrast, despite the twin beacons of pure white light coming out of her face, Fluttershy didn't even seem angry. Calm, stern, possibly disappointed, but not angry.

Pinkie's eyes seemed to be all pupil, cones of shadow marking her gaze. "So we've decided to go off-script."

The six rose into the sky, coming together as a single entity that just happened to occupy six bodies. The draconequus winced, fully expecting to return to statuary before he could even assume a suitably dramatic pose, much less overturn the paralyzing maternal edict.

Instead, he felt a strange blend of ecstasy and nausea as, for a moment, enough magic gathered in one place to distort space. The universe rebounded from the verge of singularity and for the first time in more than five thousand years, Discord felt genuinely afraid. Instead of the half-dozen playthings he'd been looking forward to isolating, tormenting, and desaturating, there stood a six-pack of the worst nightmares he'd never had. The Bearers had, by some bizarre arcana, transmuted themselves into a sextet of vengeful goddesses that had just found something to smite.

Twilight was once again more magic than mare, but she was not the gaunt mutant that had terrorized Ponyville and threatened existence. Instead, she looked rather like Celestia after a bath in grape Kool-Aid, if Celestia's wings were iridescent, insectile things that hovered on the edge of visibility. The Tiara of Magic stood proudly atop her head, called to its living aspect from its devastatingly clever hiding place. In a voice unlike any other sound the world would ever hear, she proclaimed, "We are the Elements of Harmony."

In his fear, Discord found enough restraint to resist an eyeroll and a "Well, duh."

Applejack stood so tall, broad, and stocky that for a moment, the spirit of chaos thought she'd changed gender. Even standing still, she seemed to pulse with life, her wings massive, her horn suspiciously Freudian. To encircle her neck, the Torc of Honesty had grown to such a size that it could've served as an armored kilt for the average pony. However, the enormous mare's voice, though deeper and stripped of charmingly rustic accent, was still an alto. "You stand accused of crimes against reality and escape from your just prison."

Rarity seemed hewn from a single massive crystal. No, sculpted. "Hewn" was far too crude a word for the living masterpiece, each facet a passionate sonnet of and to the world, reflecting not what was but what should be. The Torc of Generosity was flawlessly incorporated into the design, the gold offset and offsetting in a way to make any aesthete abandon his craft, knowing that perfection had already been given form. Her voice was the most beautiful thing Discord had ever heard that hadn't come out of his own mouth. "Since your escape, you have wasted no time resuming the reign of terror you had so callously sown before for the sole purpose of indulging your capricious whims."

Rainbow Dash, the draconequus was sure, had intentionally chosen a form designed to mock him. It resembled flesh even less than Twilight's solidified spellcraft. Instead, "she" (as if the thing even had a gender anymore,) was a wild, inchoate mass of crackling energy that just happened to consistently maintain the general shape of an alicorn. The temerity, managing to assume a form simultaneously more and less chaotic than his own! The Torc of Loyalty was slightly blurred, vibrating with the power it held in check. A series of thunderclaps, sizzles, and other seemingly random sounds, when taken together, could be heard as, "You show no thought, concern, or respect for the dignity, sanctity, or welfare of any other living thing."

Fluttershy almost hurt to look at. It wasn't her luminosity, carefully set to a level soft and pleasant for any eye. It wasn't the Torc of Kindness, with its insipid diamond butterfly. It was the tooth-rotting aura of love and acceptance that wafted off of her like a cloying perfume. Her voice was so pure and melodious as to be wince-inducing. "Your heart is without remorse for your actions, proud and utterly irredeemable." Well, when she put it like that, he almost felt a little guilty. Almost.

And then there was Pinkie Pie. Pinkie Pie, who, bucking the trend, presented herself as a draconequus of even greater anatomical diversity than her son. Seemingly no taxon had gone unsampled in her manifestation. A thrill of hope filled Discord's mismatched hearts. Surely, between his mother and the spirit of Laughter, there was some factor in his favor. As if in reply, Laughter incarnate shook her head, her Torc sparkling like the tears of a clown. For all her myriad components, her voice was unchanged. "Since the world was formed, you have brought nothing but misery to everyone who has ever known you."

"And yet..."

Discord turned back to Twilight. Really? The quintessential stick-in-the-mud? The fuddiest of duddies? Celestia's hooflicker?

"And yet," reiterated Magic given form, "you serve an essential purpose in the world, for without chaos, order is without purpose. Without strife, friendship is meaningless. Without discord, harmony is impossible."

The spirit risked prompting the pantheon. "Therefore?"

"Therefore," answered Kindness, "let us not expunge that which we find repugnant to the detriment of the world."

"Therefore," continued Loyalty, "let us recognize the thankless work of the necessary evil."

"Therefore," chimed Generosity, "let us provide an outlet for those who chafe at restriction."

"Therefore," reasoned Honesty, "let us ensure that this meeting will not take place again."

"Therefore," concluded Laughter, "let us crib a plot device from Dragonball."

All assembled looked at her with expressions that ran a wide gamut of emotion and describability. "Twilight, your line!" she stage whispered, either oblivious or indifferent to the stares.

"Therefore," Magic said with perhaps a bit more emphasis than necessary, "let there be created the Elements of Discord."

"Charisma, kindness as a means."

"Vanity, generosity towards oneself."

"Mischief, laughter at the expense of others."

"Ambition, loyalty until inconvenient."

"Cunning, honesty at its most selective."

"Chaos, the heart of magic."

Spake Honesty, "Each a part of everyone."

Spake Generosity, "Each not so much a vice as a corrupted virtue."

Spake Loyalty, "When the six are brought together by those who embody them,"

Spake Kindness, "When those six are united in purpose,"

Spake Laughter, "Then let the power of ultimate discord flow through them,"

Spake Magic, "And let them receive exactly what they deserve."

"Amen," offered Discord.

As one, the six declared, "So mote it be." With an incredible pulse of magic, the world was remade.

Celestia paced nervously in her chambers, so consumed in her own thoughts that she didn't notice her sister's entrance. It took three calls of "Tia?" and a physical nudge to shake her out of it.

"Oh, Luna." From her tone, it was clear that the sun princess was still distracted. "How goes the cleanup?"

"Most of Discord's work was undone with him. The more stubborn remnants are largely safe enough to be handled by conventional work crews, and the Guard has been dispatched to address the exceptions." The younger alicorn gave her sister a worried look. "How are you doing?"

"Fine, fine," Celestia said dismissively. She gave a self-deprecating smile. "Just trying to wind down after worrying a hole in the carpet."

Luna frowned, clearly not believing that for a second. "You don't 'wind down.' You've never 'wound down.' You go from concern to serenity in an eyeblink. Something's still bothering you."

"My faithful student, a pony who I love like a daughter, just risked life, limb, and sanity to seal away the monstrosity that the two of us defeated more by luck than skill. I think I'm allowed a moment to decompress."

The moon deity shook her head and sighed. "And you're trying to protect me from whatever it is that's gnawing at you. Tia, I'm a big pony. I can handle it. What's more, I can help you." She smiled. "We were meant to rule together, Sister."

Celestia returned the grin. "Oh, now you're just not playing fair." She gave a sigh of her own. "You're right, though. I'm going to have to learn how to delegate again."

"You seemed able to during the Ditzy Doo incident."

"That was just to get you out of the castle for once."

Luna smirked. "I thought as much. Still, we're getting off topic. What has you so flustered, Tia?"

"This." A sunshine-colored aura lit the older princess's horn and a necklace was brought out from beneath the Royal Pillow.

The indigo alicorn took hold of the item with her own magic and examined it. Despite her centuries of alchemical experience, she found herself unable to name the material. Steel? Silver? Platinum? It was metallic and gray, but beyond that she couldn't say. The jewel, on the other hoof, was obvious; a canary diamond carved into a stylized sun nearly identical to the one on her sister's flank. "Is this..." She trailed off, unable to finish the inconceivable thought.

Celestia nodded. "It appeared almost immediately after the Elements vanquished Discord."

"But... but that would mean—"

"Yes. It would appear that I am the Bearer of the Element of Cunning."

The younger goddess digested this for a moment. "Discord always did have a refined sense of irony."

"About the only refined thing about him."

"Do you know if any of the other new Elements have appeared before their Bearers?"

"It's under investigation. I commissioned several members of the Night Guard to aid my usual sources. I didn't think you'd mind."

"Not at all. This will require subtlety." Luna took another moment to think. "So what does this mean?"

Celestia smirked ruefully at the artifact. "Well, I'm definitely not wearing the thing, that much is certain. Furthermore, Canterlot Tower is going to have a new resident."

"But the Elements—"

"The living Elements of Harmony have twice demonstrated that attempts to safeguard the crystalline ones are unnecessary, if not misguided. The relics have been left in their care."

The night princess's stomach churned with her anxiety. "I hope you know what you're doing, Tia."

Her sister permitted herself a rare look of genuine fear. "So do I, Lulu. So do I."

In the exact center of almost an acre of blue-leafed Everfree undergrowth, a brightly colored rubber ball beckoned the whimsical and incautious.

Lodged in the exposed frame of the Steiffel Tower, itself but one of the countless landmarks in the capital of Prance, a velvet-covered beanbag waited for gravity to work its magic.

Atop the Drackenhorn, highest mountain in the perilous ranges griffons called home, a rounded lump of basalt dared something to claim it.

On the other side of every mirror, an incongruous disco ball teased with its obvious inaccessibility.

And deep in the collective unconscious, a draconequus considered the eight-pointed star in his paw, inconceivable thoughts whizzing through his mind. After an indeterminable time, he came to a decision.

"Well, it's certainly better than being a statue."

Discord, Chaos Incarnate RRRR
Planeswalker — Discord
0: Exile cards from the top of your library until you exile a nonland card. Put that many loyalty counters on Discord, Chaos Incarnate.
-1: Choose a creature you don't control at random. Gain control of that creature. That creature is colorless for as long as you control it. (This effect doesn't target and lasts indefinitely.)
-13: Shuffle your hand and graveyard and all exiled cards you own into your library. Draw fourteen cards, then discard seven cards at random. Cast each nonland card discarded this way without paying its mana cost if able.
3

Wedding Bells of Velis Vel

"Princess Celestia cordially invites you to the wedding of Princess Mi Amore Cadenza and..." Twilight gasped, looking up from the invitation. "My brother!?"

"You have a brother?" Pinkie asked.

Rainbow Dash looked at her, surprised. "You didn't know?"

"How could I have known? When did brother-having become a thing that Twilight did, and how did everypony but me get the memo?" She looked about the group suspiciously. "Does anypony else have some siblings they'd like to bring out into the open? Or are we just leaving this in canonical uncertainty until new merchandise forces a wavefunction collapse?"

"It's not that big a deal, Pinkie," said Dash, trying to hide her discomfort behind a soothing tone.

The party pony scoffed. "Well of course you'd say that. You're the least familially defined out of all of us! At least I can infer the name of Fluttershy's mom, but you? You're awesome ex nihilo, a cipher, a mystery wrapped in an enigma wrapped in the visible light spectrum. For all we know, you—" Her rant was interrupted by the magical insertion of a cupcake into her mouth.

As Pinkie chewed, Rarity smiled, pleased to see that her gambit had worked. "Feeling better, dear?"

As the pink mare nodded, Twilight smirked. "I hope you appreciate the irony of you demanding that I make sense.

The planeswalker swallowed and shrugged. "I'm just the comic relief character. You're the protagonist among protagonists. We're supposed to know your backstory best. You can't just spring a sibling on us at the end of the second season."

Studiously ignoring most of this, Applejack asked, "Yer just sore 'cause y' never knew t' invite 'er brother t' any parties, ain'tchya?"

"Partially, yes," conceded the other earth pony.

"Well, it isn't like he would've attended anyway," noted Twilight. "He's captain of the Royal Guard. He's in charge of every guardspony in all of Equestria. He's way too busy for something as trivial as a party held by somepony he's barely heard of."

"'Trivial'!?"

"Seemingly trivial?" Pinkie seemed to find this acceptable, but Twilight then took up her abandoned umbrage. "Of course, if he's too busy to tell his only sister that he's getting married—"

"I'm holding you to that 'only sister' line, Sparkle," warned Pinkie, eyes narrowed.

Spike smirked. "And isn't this coming from the pony I have to remind to eat now and again?"

"Speaking from experience," offered Rarity, "I know how easy it is to forget even those closest to one's heart when faced with the demands of one's work. If your brother is anything like you, perhaps he's simply been consumed by duty."

"Why?" demanded Twilight. "What could possibly be so important?"

"Y' mean b'sides his weddin'?"

"Um..." Long experience helped the others react to Fluttershy's overture. All fell silent and turned to her, but none made direct eye contact. The gentle pegasus pointed a hoof at the capital. "Maybe it has something to do with the purple bubble around Canterlot?"

Everypony looked to the capital. The indicated bubble was faint, but definitely there. Twilight thought aloud, disbelief heavy in her voice. "That.. that's a single gigantic force field. What's going on?"

"I haven't heard a word about this," marveled Rarity.

"After y' rubbed shoulders with darn near everypony who's anypony?" Applejack doffed her hat. "Must be some kinda emergency. Ah hope they're all okay."

"Why hope?" Dash leapt into the air. "We gotta get over there right now, see for ourselves!"

Twilight nodded grimly. "You're right, Rainbow Dash. Spike, take a letter."

"A letter?" cried the pegasus. "How is a letter going to get there any faster than me?" Spike gave her a withering look and puffed out a bit of flame. The speedster gave an awkward chuckle. "Oh. Right."

The purple mare smiled despite herself and began to dictate. "Dear Princess Celestia,

"My friends and I just noticed the enormous shield encompassing all of Canterlot. We are naturally quite concerned, especially in light of the news of my brother's wedding, which he apparently felt wasn't important enough to share with little Twiley ahead of time..." She noted her friends' expressions. "Um, scratch that part out."

The dragon smirked again. "I'm getting a sense for tangents. I stopped writing after 'upcoming wedding.'"

Twilight pretended not to notice her blush. "Good initiative. So, from there: Since we are already on our way to Canterlot to aid with the festivities, is there any way we could help with whatever threat has caused the heightened state of alert?

"Your faithful, concerned student,
"Twilight Sparkle"

The scroll was quickly finished and incinerated, all seven anxiously watching the smoke.

"Do you think anypony is hurt?" Fluttershy didn't direct her question, simply voicing her anxiety.

Twilight smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, Fluttershy. Shining Armor may have taken a turn for the inconsiderate, but he's still one of the best knight-captains Canterlot has seen in the past century. Protection is literally his special talent. I'm sure he's got a plan worthy of Mashy Spike-Plate himself."

"Seriously? A shield that only you can maintain? That's your defense strategy?"

"Only the passive defense. Princess Luna is investigating the threat every day."

Twilight nodded. "Okay, that explains why you aren't asking for her help. What about Princess Celestia?"

Her brother shook his head. "Between keeping watch over Canterlot and keeping the country functioning, she barely has enough time to preside over the wedding."

"And you didn't ask me for help because?"

Shining Armor sighed. "Like you said, Twiley, only I can maintain the shield."

"And that doesn't strike you as an obvious weak point in the security," deadpanned the mare. "Look at you, Shiny! You almost collapsed after that last recharge!"

"It's the best option we have," he insisted.

His sister groaned. "Fine. Proof by counterexample it is, then." She sent a beam of light towards the top of the barrier. Unlike the stallion's single burst of energy, this was a thin, consistent stream.

Twilight frowned as she considered the incoming data. "Wow, you really went for quantity over quality, didn't you?"

Armor gave her an indignant glare. "I had to encompass all of Canterlot in one spell."

"Uh huh."

"You think you can do better?"

She smirked. "I already said I was going to, didn't I?" The thin beam of magic thickened and brightened. The mare reared up, then began to levitate, arcane power outperforming gravity. The shield seem to shimmer and fuzz. Closer inspection would reveal magical symbols cascading down its surface like an ideogrammatic waterfall. After several seconds, this gave way to the grid pattern of the barrier, which shifted to one of tessellating hexagons.

As Twilight drifted back to the ground, her brother cautiously asked her, "What did you do?"

Her smirk shifted into a self-satisfied grin. "First, I gave the shield much greater ontological independence from your magic. As it was, it was a miracle that it stayed intact while you slept.

"Second, I added a pair of recharging subroutines to ease active maintenance requirements. The first uses the ambient magic in the air and the Canterhorn to replenish the shield. With just that, you shouldn't have to sustain the spell more than two, maybe three times a week. The second turns the chief weakness of this kind of barrier, a sustained siege, into an energy source. It's a kinetithaumic converter. Anything that hits shield recharges it. It's not a perfect conversion, of course, but it should increase the spell's functional duration in such a situation by at least fourfold.

"Third and finally, I closed all of the loopholes and back doors that I used to effect the changes. 'I less-than-symbol three Cadence' does not a secure password make."

Shining Armor was agog. "How..."

"Element of Magic, remember? I can tell this abjuration to sit, roll over, and play dead, and that's without hacking it." Twilight gave her brother a fond hug. "It's good to see you again, BBBFF. We need to do this more often. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a wedding to plan."

Later that evening, Twilight walked away from sounds of merriment, head down and heart heavy. "Looks like I really am on my own." Her friends were too caught up in their new positions as bridesmaids to listen to her tale of creepy magic that made her beloved brother's eyes go all...

"Twilight? Hi!" A perfect example came trotting towards her.

"Ditzy Doo? What are you doing here?"

The pegasus frowned. "Well, gee, nice to see you too."

The purple mare shook her head, trying to backtrack. "I didn't mean it like that. I just wasn't expecting to see you in Canterlot."

The blonde grinned. "What can I say? When you know ponies in high places, sometimes they want you to come visit."

Twilight tried to look happy in kind. "So, are Address Unknown and Dinky here?"

Ditzy scowled. "As much as I'd like them to be, no. Address doesn't trust the new mailponies to lick stamps unsupervised." Her expression lightened. "As for Dinky, she wanted to spend some quality time with her dad, and I can't really blame her for that. Besides, she still has school." The scowl returned. "But that stallion, ugh! Do you know what he said when I told him we were invited to a royal wedding?"

"What?"

"'That's nice.' Can you believe that? We could get invi..." She trailed off. Twilight's facade had crumbled to the point where she seemed to be carrying the weight of the world on her withers. "Are you okay, Twilight?"

"No, Ditzy, I'm not okay. In fact, I need your help."

The pegasus paused as she considered this for a moment. "Well, okay, but I'm not sure how I can help with the wedding prep."

The unicorn shook her head. "No, I need you to help me prove that Cadence is evil!"

"...What."

"She's changed, Ditzy. She's not the pony who foalsat me. She's a demanding, deceptive, duplicitous..." Twilight paused, perhaps searching for more sinister "D" words. "She's just not right! Not for Shining Armor, not for anypony!"

Gently as she could, the mailmare asked, "Did you ever consider that you might be overreacting just a little?"

"I am not overreacting! If anything, everypony else is underreacting! Go and see for yourself!"

Ditzy considered this. "You know what? I think I will."

Twilight went from grousing to gratitude in the blink of an eye. "You will? Oh, thankyouthankyoutha—"

The pegasus held up a hoof. "But. If I can't find anything wrong with her, will you at least promise to consider the possibility that you're wrong?"

"...All right."

"Good. Where can I find her?"

"Halt! Who goes there?" Luna's voice cut through the night as she answered her own question. Glowering, she called, "Be swift in your duties, Ditzy Doo."

The pegasus smiled to herself. The princess couldn't fairly object to her presence, not when Luna herself had composed the oath urging couriers to brave the dark of night. Still, best not to flaunt royal authority. Ditzy accelerated to a brisk trot as she approached Shining Armor's quarters.

A knock at the door summoned the stallion. "Yes?"

"Telegram for Princess Mi Amore Cadenza."

"I'll take it."

She shook her head. "Her eyes only."

Armor gave the mailmare a flat look. "I'm the captain of the Royal Guard and her fiancé. I think you can trust me."

Ditzy wingshrugged. "Sorry, sir. Gotta give it to her in person or it'll self-destruct."

The groom gave the universal sigh of contempt for red tape. "Fine. Just a second. Cadence!"

"What!?"

Ditzy held back a wince. That tone did not bode well for the "not actually evil" scenario.

"Mail for you! Top secret!"

"Well stop shouting about it, then!" The alicorn came into view, glaring at her allegedly beloved. "Honestly..."

"Not evil" was dismissed there and then. To Ditzy's eyes, the princess was a shape of blue magic that overlapped with something that was obviously not Twilight's foalsitter. Not unless the unicorn was repressing some memories. The tendril of bruise-purple energy that was flowing out of the retreating Shining Armor and into the creature only underscored its not-Cadence-ness.

"Yes, what is it?" barked the impostor, shaking the pegasus out of her reflection. This close, there was a weird two-level effect as true and false voices spoke as one.

"Telegram for you, ma'am."

"Well, let's have it."

Ditzy shook her head. She'd made a plan in case Twilight had been right. Now it was time to put it into action. "I'm afraid that it's a singing telegram, Your Highness."

Not-Cadence raised an eyebrow skeptically. "A top-secret singing telegram."

The pegasus put on her most gormless face. "Yes, ma'am."

The alicorn said nothing more, simply slamming the door in the messenger's face. At least, she tried to. A hoof in the doorway sent it bouncing back and applied a spell that had been prepared earlier. When the faker tried to shut the door a second time, it didn't budge.

As the deceiver struggled against the "equal and opposite force" enchantment, Ditzy appraised her forehoof. "I think you chipped it. I hope you're proud of yourself."

Not-Cadence seemed on the verge of physical assault, her horn layered in overglow as she futilely strained against the immobile door. "Go away!"

"Not until I've delivered the message, ma'am."

The bride-to-be snorted in frustration, then relented. "Fine. Sing, then."

Ditzy nodded and cleared her throat. "Ohhhh..." Then, in a decent imitation of the Royal Canterlot Voice: "SECURITY ALERT! SHAPESHIFTER DETECTED! KNIGHT-CAPTAIN ARMOR HAS BEEN COMPROMISED!"

The gratifying wail of sirens began to echo through the night. As the false princess stared vacantly at her unveiler, the pegasus smiled. "I have to say, ma'am, that really is a marvelous glamour. Visual, tangible, auditory, even olfactory. I'd test for a gustatory element, but that would be rather forward of me."

"Who... How?"

The mailmare bowed. "My name is Ditzy Doo. I am something you couldn't have planned for."

"What's the meaning of this!?" Shining Armor stormed towards the entryway. "You madmare! Do you think this is some kind of sick joke?"

Ditzy nodded towards his fiancée. "You tell me."

The guardspony frowned. "Wha—" The question died on his lips as he looked at the false Cadence.

"Darling?" she asked plaintively, not realizing that her earlier struggles with the door had burnt away the disguise around her jagged horn.

The unicorn's fury transferred to her. "What have you done with— urgh!" A sudden migraine cut off the shout.

"Hmph." The alicorn sent a surge of sickly green at her suitor, swelling the parasitic bond between them. "Down, lover boy." Shining Armor collapsed, his breathing labored. She turned back to the troublesome pegasus. "As for you—"

"Yes?" Ditzy smiled among the guards that had flooded to the alert. "What about me?"

Luna glared at the impostor behind her subjects. "Vile creature! You will—"

Whatever the night princess wanted her to do, Chrysalis decided that she would hiss and launch a concussive wave of magic. Ponies were sent flying as she made her escape.

That escape was quickly unmade as she went crashing back to earth. Luna shook her head, horn aglow with gravimancy. "Why do they always try to run?"

"Now!" croaked the changeling.

Half of the guards immediately righted themselves and rushed at the moon princess. With her attention divided, her gravity spell was weak enough for Chrysalis to overcome with a pittance of her stolen power. Dropping her damaged disguise, she turned and fired a blast at the other alicorn.

Luna was not as powerful as her sister. She also had four equinoid insects worrying at her flanks. However, she had the advantage of not being the one who fired first, and that made all the difference. With a thought, she summoned a dense cloud of darkness in the beam's path. It glowed a sullen green as it absorbed the energy.

The tattered queen kept pouring it on, confident that she would overwhelm the trifling defense. Then a voice cut through her concentration. "You have quite the ego, don't you?" The insectoid's eyes flicked to one side. The pegasus again? "I can fix that."

A wave of blue power, and the creature was sent staggering. It paused. It couldn't feel its magic! Its wings! Its... its... what else was there? What had it been doing? Why?

Incapacitating the last of the lesser changelings, Luna looked to her foe and balked. All identifying features had been wiped from the creature. All that remained simply... was. No wings, no horn, no tail, not even facial features. Just a blank living shape, staggering in confusion.

"That won't last for long," Ditzy warned. "What will you do with her?"

The alicorn considered this for a moment. She pointed her horn at the nameless thing and whispered, "Sleep." As it collapsed, she answered, "For now, she will be incarcerated. Come dawn, I will confer with Celestia. We must locate the real Cadence, and this fiend likely knows her whereabouts." She nodded to the grey mare. "You have done well this night, Ditzy Doo."

"Only at Twilight's insistence."

"Indeed? Then you are both to be thanked." The pegasus yawned, and the princess smiled. "Tomorrow. For now, rest. There will be much to do."

"Ugh..." Chrysalis grudgingly returned to consciousness. To her relief, familiar sensations assailed her. Horn. Wings. Hunger. After the nightmarish loss of self, even the gnawing emptiness in her proventriculus was welcome, even if it did mean that she'd lost her host.

"My Queen, can you change?"

She looked up. A pegasus guard, interchangeable with his comrades. Of course. She probed her magic as she struggled upright. "I can manage."

The armored pony's eyes briefly flashed green as he nodded. "Good. Match my form. We must make haste." He produced a ring of keys and unlocked the cell.

Chrysalis struggled for the needed power, having grown accustomed to feasting on Shining Armor. Still, she managed to compress herself into the lesser changeling's twin. "Thank you, my child."

"What is the plan, my Queen?"

The disguised creatures fell into step together. "A direct attack is impossible now. We must begin at the edges. Insinuate ourselves in the frontier, then move inward. Absorb the hives that have hidden themselves amongst the Equestrians. If we cannot take Canterlot with guile, then we shall do so with sheer numbers, an infestation one lucky mare cannot stop." She grinned beneath her borrowed shape. Let the ponies think they swatted her. She would return, leading a swarm beyond their wildest dreams.

"She was not lucky, my Queen."

The drone's droning interrupted Chrysalis's enjoyable fantasy. "Then what was she?"

"Smarter than you," answered an all-too-familiar voice. Ditzy Doo emerged from beneath her disguise, the insufferable taste of smugness filling the stunned changeling's mind. "Did you get all that, Your Highness?"

"Every word." Luna came into visibility just behind them, exuding resolve from every pore.

The changeling queen gaped at this for a moment. "I... How..."

"You'll have plenty of time to think on that," noted the moon princess. She focused her will, and the floor opened up beneath the other sovereign.

Chrysalis dismissed her disguise in a moment and began buzzing her wings for all she was worth, but the pull of the void beneath her was stronger yet, swallowing her whole. A midnight-blue muzzle surrounded by swirling stars watched her fall as a foal would watch a bug, impassive and unafraid.

Eventually, the darkness consumed everything, and the sense of falling slowly came to a halt. Details began to resolve themselves, mostly rough-hewn stone and discolored but sturdy bars. The cell the changeling queen had found herself in before had been relatively pleasant. Sparse, but tolerable. Now she wasn't in a prison. She was in an oubliette. Ponies weren't put in here with the intention of taking them out. She didn't think Canterlot had a place like this. Judging by the lack of bones, it hadn't seen use at any point in the recent past.

Chrysalis sat up in the dingy little cell. Her empathic sense was picking up something curious. Somewhere between sight, taste, and telepathy, it normally detected sources of succulent love, sustaining compassion, and the other, less palatable contents of the emotional spectrum. Now it detected something like a shadow without a body, a patch of motile blandness.

She moved close to the bars, seeking the source of the anomaly. Presumably, it was the pair of approaching figures. One was familiar, the infantile mare who thought Pin the Tail on the Pony and the Chicken Dance were suitable entertainment for a royal wedding. Chrysalis made a mental note to lay a clutch of eggs in that one's abdomen once she escaped. The other was unfamiliar, a donkey if she wasn't mistaken. One with either a good stylist or an excellent toupee.

As the two got closer, the disconnect registered in the queen's mind. The pony had been sickly sweet with unbridled joy. Now she was so utterly unemotional that she blended in with dungeon's stone walls. Hmm. Might as well get the facts straight from the horse's mouth. "Pinkie Pie. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

The mare who locked eyed with her was a stranger. Mane so straight it seemed iron, coat an oddly drab shade of magenta, and expression of such complete and total apathy that Chrysalis felt a little hungrier just looking at her. Her voice might by some stretch of the imagination be considered similar to the party pony's. "Chrysalis. Hive-Queen of the Changeling Swarms. You have been found guilty of abduction, conspiracy to invade the sovereign nation of Equestria, impersonating a member of its royal family, and at least one count of magical domination of another's will."

The accused smirked. "'Found guilty'? I didn't know I had a trial."

The earth pony continued, indifferent to the aside. "You have all but declared war on Equestria. You have insinuated malicious dopplegangers into its armed forces. And worst of all," and here a hint of rage slipped into her voice, "you. Hurt. My. Friends."

"Uh-huh." This was hardly the changeling's first international incident. "Tell it to someone who cares, dear."

For a moment, hatred filled the pony, inedible but thrillingly spicy. The donkey laid a hoof on her shoulder, and the anger abated. Pinkamena's next words were even more measured and monotonous than before. "In their mercy, the Princesses are willing to reduce your sentence if you cooperate. If you refuse this mercy, you invite their wrath. Do you understand?"

Chrysalis rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes. Let's get this over with." Honestly, what was the worst they could do? This land was so filled with love, there was no way its inhabitants could even conceive of true cruelty, much less practice it.

The mare betrayed no reaction to her irreverence. "Very well, then. Cranky, I leave her in your capable hooves."

The donkey nodded. As the dampened pony departed, he considered the prisoner. "Well, I suppose I should introduce myself. As you may have gathered, my friends call me Cranky. You can call me Mr. Donkey. I'm going to ask you a few questions. If you answer them and those answers check out, you could be out of here in as little as a few days. If you don't or if you lie, well, Princess Luna said something about a trip to the Moon. Then we'll see if you're feeling a bit more cooperative."

The queen wasn't paying attention. "What happened to her?"

He grumbled to himself a bit before answering. "Friends are very important to Pinkie."

"So somepony died?"

A sigh and a shake of the head. "Changelings."

Chrysalis glared. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"For a race that feeds on love, you have almost no understanding of it. Thanks for reminding me of that."

"'Reminding'?"

"I've wandered the world for more than forty years. You're far from my first changeling, Missy."

Cranky's emotional neutrality suddenly made a great deal more sense. A pit formed in the queen's stomach "You're starving me."

He nodded. "I'll be the only one coming in or out of here. There are safeguards in place to ensure that your drones can't sneak in using my form, and I'm not telling you what they are."

She gave a fanged smirk. "We'll see about that."

The donkey sighed. "I'm going to be blunt: We both know that, given a plentiful food supply, you'd have a lifespan of thirty, maybe forty years. Looking at you, I'm guessing you'll manage twenty at most, and you've already lived through about ten of them."

"Nine and a half." The changeling self-consciously ran a hoof through her perforated mane.

"Uh huh. The point is, no matter how generously the Princesses commute your sentence, they aren't going to pardon you completely. They may decide to exile you instead. However, if you don't cooperate, all you have to look forward to is a slow, agonizing death by inches over the next few weeks. I've seen it happen. It isn't pretty."

She backed away, horrified. Such a sight should have traumatized an Equestrian for life. How could this one recount it without a flicker of emotion? "There's no way your Princesses would allow such a thing!"

"Oh?" He quirked an eyebrow. "According to them, they barely tolerated changelings when you kept yourselves to preying on those dumb enough to wander near that blighted dustbowl you call a home. You really think that after trying to declare Equestria your new hunting grounds, they'll let you off with a slap on the pastern?"

"I was only doing to feed my children!" Chrysalis cried. "All I was trying to do was to help my subjects! Surely they understand that!"

"They do. More importantly, they understand why you're in this situation."

"Huh?"

Cranky shook his head. "You've forgotten, haven't you? Hazard of short generations, all too easy to lose knowledge. Changelings weren't always pony-shaped love-locusts. The Chasm of Lies wasn't always a parched wasteland. You did this to yourselves."

"That's a lie!" The queen threw herself against the bars. "That's a damned lie and you know it!"

He didn't even flinch. "Rosedust was a real pony."

She gasped, backing away from the donkey. "The Ever-Ravenous One?" Her wings reflexively buzzed in benediction.

"Queen of the Flutter Ponies," corrected the donkey. "Records are spotty. This was at the very end of the Pre-Discordian Era. It's something of a miracle that any survived at all."

"What happened?"

"Where is Princess Cadence?"

Chrysalis was silent for a moment. Then she snarled and made a horrible sound, half furious whinny, half hissing spiracles. "You miserable little mule! You think your little stories will trick me into telling you where she lies?

He shrugged indifferently. "Worth a try."

"When my children release me, your fetid carcass will be used as nesting material for the new larvae!"

"Well, Matilda and I were going to have to adopt anyway."

The changeling's rage redoubled, leaving her a flailing, hissing, incoherent wreck. Cranky watched this dispassionately for a time before turning to leave. "Enjoy the Moon." Three, two...

"Wait!"

So predictable. "What?"

"I... Tell me of Rosedust."

He turned back. "I thought that was just one of my little stories."

"That doesn't mean it isn't true."

The donkey nodded. "Point. Will you tell me where Cadence is?"

Chrysalis's mind roiled with internal debate. Finally, she sighed in defeat. "Release those of my children who you have imprisoned and tell me her story, and I will."

"I'm just the interrogator. I don't have the authority to make that kind of deal. Still, I'll take your offer to the Princesses. After that, no promises."

The changeling was still at the surprisingly sparse mercy of her captors, but at least now she had hope. "Thank you." The only answer this got was a series of increasingly distant hoofsteps. Still, saying something kind and actually meaning it had been novel. Even... nice.

Pinkie reached for another tissue. Once she learned about the changelings' ability to feed on emotions, she knew exactly who to call. After all, if Cranky had been able to resist her charms, that big nasty bugpony didn't stand a chance! That he had experience with the creatures from his decades of travel was just icing on the cake.

But then he had explained that anypony had to be just as unfeeling when dealing with the captured queen. The pink pony had had episodes of emotionlessness in the distant past, usually coinciding with civilization-ending plagues and continent-ravaging firestorms. But she'd left that mare long behind by the time she closed the time loop that contained much of her life, slipping back into her childhood a moment after she left it.

At least, that was what she'd told herself. The incident on her birthday had hinted at the globe-scouring sourpuss, but infused as she was with the Element of Laughter, instead of an indifferent eschatological ennui, she had entered a silly, surreal state of psychosis. But this...

Technically, she didn't have to be the one to read off the changeling's charges. One of the Princesses could have done it, or one of her friends, or even Shining Armor himself. But they would all be hard-pressed to restrain themselves, and that would give the shapeshifter something to use to get into their hearts and their minds. That couldn't be allowed to happen.

So, Pinkie did what had to be done. She separated herself from Laughter and again became the Pink Pony of Death, destroyer of worlds. It had hurt, worse than she'd expected. Now she sought solace and healing. Given that the current gloomy mood seemed set to persist until Cadence was found, she did so through the only way she could that didn't involve a party. "Another."

Donut Joe quickly complied, bringing the mare her fourth Deluxe Donutopian. "You wanna talk about it? One baker to another?"

"Right now, all I want is to heal the wound in my soul with a poultice of fried dough and frosting."

The stallion said nothing after that. He'd learned long ago not to bother customers when they waxed poetic.

Cadence sighed. That horrible creature had taken everything from her. Her form, her love, her hope. It would've taken her life if she needed to eat or drink. As it was, her functional immortality just meant that she would suffer eternally. She pondered just trying to end everything. She wouldn't die until she was killed, but it would be so easy. Just find an unstable spot in the cavern, buck it, and welcome blessed oblivion...

No. No, she had to keep going. If not for herself, then for Shining Armor. Somepony would notice. The impostor would slip up. Surely, it was just a matter of time, right? Right?

"Cadence!"

Oh, wonderful. She was going mad. She thought she might, though she'd hoped it would take centuries and not weeks. She wondered what she would be like as a Nightmare.

"Cadence, can you hear me?"

Wait a moment, that voice... Could it be? "Twilight?"

A plane of precious crystal that had so recently displayed her own mocking face presented a wonderfully familiar unicorn. "Cadence!"

"Twilight, is that really you?"

"We captured the fake you! The others have been trying to get her to tell us where she'd taken you, but I decided to try and track her magic signature and I found residue from a scrying spell. I followed the trail and, well, here you are!"

Cadence smiled for the first time since her imprisonment. It was Twilight, alright. Who else would answer that question with a methodology? "I'm beneath the castle, in the old abandoned gem mines, but I don't know how deep." That was the lock on her cell. As long as she didn't know where she was, she couldn't risk a teleport. Ending up inside a solid object would be just as lethal for her as for any mortal pony.

The purple mare frowned in thought. She brightened as she struck upon a solution. "Hang on, I'm going to try to turn this into a gateway." Her face vanished from the massive stone, replaced by a magenta glow. The light was unsteady and irregular at first, then began to stabilize. As it did so, it changed a bit in hue. The princess couldn't quite put her hoof on how, but it seemed more... masculine.

Soon, the light was brilliant and stable. A shout could be heard from the other side. "Cadence!"

Her heart leapt. "Shiny!" Without a second thought, she followed it into the light.

"And with that, the fate of the Flutter Ponies was sealed. The rest you likely know already." A hint of pity flickered in the donkey's heart for a moment before it was snuffed out.

Silence followed for a time. Finally, Chrysalis spoke up. "Well? Aren't you going to ask me where your precious princess is?"

Cranky shook his head. "No, they managed to find her earlier today. The wedding'll be back on once she's recovered."

"What!?"

"You didn't think you were our only lead, did you? That Twilight kid managed to magic her up like a rabbit out of a hat."

"Which is good news for you, aberration." Luna strode into view, positively aglow with restrained fury. Cranky promptly prostrated himself.

Chrysalis glared at the alicorn. "What now? Did you find an even more humiliating cell, or are we just going to cut to the chase?" She raised her head, exposing her neck. "Go ahead, if you think you have the ovarioles."

The moon princess raised an eyebrow, then channeled her magic. The insectoid braced herself... and braced herself... and kept bracing herself. Finally, she gave a derisive laugh. "Couldn't go through with it, could you? I knew you Equestrians were soft! You're practically begging us to feed upon you."

"But you will not," stated the younger diarch.

"What makes you so sure?"

"I would not do anything so crude and self-defeating as harm you, Chrysalis. Your absence would be noted and another changeling would step in to take your place. No, I am going to do to you what you tried to do to me."

The changeling frowned. "I don't understand."

"You were going to take away my beloved subjects. Justice dictates that I separate you from yours."

The queen was horrified. "What did you do?"

"Chrysalis," proclaimed Luna, "by Our authority as Princess of the Moon, Avatar of Night, and Mistress of the Quiet Void, We have marked thine very soul with the Glyph of Banishment. Thou mayest never enter the borders of Our lands, and never shall those who dwell there offer thee succor or solace. Thy name be Pariah, thy homeland nowhere. Now begone with thee."

With no further fanfare, the changeling queen vanished.

The alicorn noted the prone figure to her right. "You may rise, Cranky Doodle Donkey. You have done us a great service. And by us, I mean my sister and me."

Cranky swallowed and shakily got to his hooves. Nervously adjusting his toupee, he answered, "W-with all due respect, Your Highness, I really didn't do much of anything. Twilight Sparkle found Princess Cadence."

"True," noted Luna, "but you have reminded Chrysalis of what she and her people once were. Perhaps now they will strive to reclaim the glory that once was theirs."

The donkey couldn't help but glance at the empty cell. "I-if I may ask... where did you send her?"

She looked in the appropriate direction. "Close to home, but far enough away for her to have time to think on her way back."

The Drackenridge Mountains are many things. Steep. Cold. Harsh. None of their many qualities are particularly hospitable to changelings who suddenly manifest atop the range's highest peak.

Chrysalis shivered, wind whistling through the holes in her hooves. "Oh, th-th-they will p-p-pay for this ind-d-dignity. Th-th-they will pay." She stomped a porous hoof to emphasize the point, unsettling a round lump of basalt and sending it rolling into the appendage. With a crimson flare, it reshaped itself. "Huh?"

She leaned down. The rock had become a gorget not unlike one of the pony diarch's, but this one seemed tailored for her more svelte physique. Hewn from polished obsidian, it spoke of power to be found and wielded even after hitting rock bottom. Especially after hitting rock bottom. Her crown was replicated on the front in jade.

The queen slipped it on. For being made of volcanic glass, it was surprisingly comfortable. It even filled the void in her gizzard somewhat. Chrysalis smiled. If they thought trying to take Canterlot had been daring, they hadn't seen anything yet.

Chrysalis, Changeling Queen 4UB
Legendary Creature — Shapeshifter
Flying
1U: Until end of turn, target creature you control becomes a copy of target creature and gains all creature types. The "legend rule" doesn't apply to that creature or to creatures with the same name as that creature this turn.
1B: Target creature gets -0/-1 until end of turn. Chrysalis, Changeling Queen gets +1/+0 until end of turn.
3/3

Mi Amore Cadenza 4RW
Legendary Creature — Unicorn Pegasus
Flying, lifelink
3RW, T, Tap another untapped creature you control: Mi Amore Cadenza deals damage equal to its power plus the other tapped creature's power to target creature or player.
3/3

Keep Your Friends Close, They're What Drive You

The Hollow Shades are a low-lying region of northeastern Equestria where water and black mana both pool, forming a physical and spiritual morass that encourages all manner of things most ponies find unsavory. (That being said, the cuisine is actually quite nice, provided one doesn't try to identify the ingredients.)

The swamp's sole settlement is also called Hollow Shades, though not because anypony ever actually named it that. The settlers were earth ponies, able to sense how best to to adapt the land to their needs and vice versa. Names have power, and those first Hollowfolk knew that giving their town a name would've given a region that already resented their intrusion a way to focus its malice into something tangible.

The rest of the adaptations led to a town where half of the buildings sit on stilts and quite a few others are built into cypress trees. Most streets can only be called such by using a very loose definition of the term; many are boardwalks that seem dangerously rickety no matter how much maintenance they get, while those in the relatively dry town center consist of a claustrophobic maze of back alleys with no front.

The end result is the only town in Equestria with a white market, a secret location where a carefully watched clientele can exchange bits for legally permitted goods and services. Most commerce in the Shades takes place in smoke-filled huts, mysterious shops that aren't there the next day, and the aforementioned alleys.

An equinoid shape stood in one now, its shapeless, hooded cloak obscuring all identifying marks.

A batrachian stallion rounded a corner and slithered forward, his mane slick to the point of dripping, his coat and eyes eerily pallid, his lips thick and blubbery. "You are Deep Delver?" he asked with a gurgling undertone.

The cloaked figure nodded.

The stallion pulled a paper bag from one of his saddlebags, the source of their leather best left vague. "It was not easy to acquire. Though many things are readily found in this place, your request was not one of them."

"You have no use for it." Deep Delver's voice came out gruff, but too high for a stallion. "I will pay you the agreed amount and nothing more."

The seller gave a deep, mucousy sigh. "Very well. But only because my final change draws near. Tickets to Hinnysmouth aren't cheap, you know."

The two made the exchange in the traditional Hollow Shades manner, each tossing payment or product to the other from a few paces away. Both then turned and went their separate ways, no thanks or farewells exchanged. This too was traditional.

The branch of the Manehattan Corridor railroad that went into the Hollow Shades was a great feat of Equestrian engineering and military prowess, both in draining the swamp to lay the tracks and in fending off that which didn't want the swamp drained. The train station itself was a testament to the sensibility of the locals, looking derelict almost from the moment it had been finished. Youths painted graffiti on it less to rebel and more out of a sense of grim obligation. Still, the trains ran, and Deep Delver was soon on her way out of the Shades.

As the oppressive gloom gave way to brighter surroundings, Delver shed both cloak and identity. She'd bought that name and the papers that said it was hers in the Shirish underworld. The identity that had made that purchase had itself been bought in a disreputable Appleoosan saloon, which in turn led to a surprisingly personable mare in Maneitoba, and back and back through months of preparation, thousands of miles, and even more bits. At last, it had seemed safe to perform the final stage of the plan, and so Carrot Top now held the illicit fruit of her labors.

She dared not look in the bag. She had never been able to escape the notice and judgement of one mare, herself. Looking in the bag would make it real, would make her depravity plain to see.

Soon, Carrot told herself. She'd spent the better part of a year working towards this. She could wait a little longer.

Carrot Top didn't have much to do in late spring, especially not with a fairly small patch of land. Still, her chores seemed to drag. She couldn't focus on them, not with the item waiting for her in her kitchen. Her withers prickled with every motion as her sins crawled along her back. She'd thought she was past regret, past remorse... but guilt was apparently a different story.

After a brief eternity, the sun set. Carrot retreated inside. She drew the shades on every window. Ponyville wasn't a town where ponies locked their doors—certainly not when a good portion of the townsfolk could kick through the things anyway—so Carrot set planks of sturdy oak against the front and rear entrances.

Finally, Carrot entered her kitchen and approached her refrigerator, where what she'd worked so hard to get lay in wait. She could feel her ancestors looking upon her with shame and disapproval. But banish it all the moon and back, she was her own mare and she'd make her own decisions.

She threw open the magical appliance. A vast starscape greeted her, glittering with all the beauty of the night. Stars and galaxies twinkled, nigh-indistinguishable from her perspective. Great clouds of dust and gas glowed like delicate veils on a Saddle Arabian concubine. The majesty of an entire universe unfolded before her.

Carrot snarled. "Ditzy!" She dashed to the back door, heaved the oaken plank aside, and stormed out, crying, "This is the third time this month!"

Carrot felt a little bad about dragging Ditzy away from her dinner table, especially after Dinky had insisted on tagging along. Still, Ditzy had agreed that Carrot was entitled to feel peeved at this point. The walk back to her house was silent, even Dinky picking up on the awkward mood.

They came in through the back, whereupon Carrot led mother and daughter to her fridge, threw the door open, and furiously pointed at the cosmos within.

Ditzy winced. "I could've sworn I had all the kinks worked out of the hyperspace bridge."

"That's what you said last time." Carrot sighed. "Can't you just walk to work like the rest of us?"

"You'd be surprised how often I need something big and awkward from my attic. Nopony wants me flying over Ponyville with magical devices from other worlds." Ditzy shook her head and gave a soft smile. "Least of all me."

Carrot gave a grudging nod. "You can fix it, right?"

Ditzy looked over the fridge, her smile growing more confident. "Definitely. And given how the phase nodes keep forming in there, I think I know how to keep it from happening again."

"You said that last time, too." Still, Carrot couldn't help but smile herself.

Ditzy cracked her neck. "Okay, time to get to work." Her eyes flashed blue, and a tangle of glowing strands appeared over the mouth of the accidental portal, dotted with brighter spots where the strings of magic crossed one another.

Ditzy and Dinky both spent several seconds studying the web of light. Dinky then lit her horn, and one of the spots near the top left corner glowed in her aura. "This one first, right, Mommy?"

After a few more moments, Ditzy nodded. "Well done, Muffin."

Dinky beamed even as the bright point faded and the entire web rearranged itself into a new shape.

Carrot left them to their work, moving to her living room. She knew she could trust them, and it was still in its bag besides.

Several minutes later, a nervous call of "Carrot?" came to her attention.

Carrot Top looked up from her magazine to see Ditzy with far too wide a smile on her face, unable to keep her wings still in her agitation. At her side, Dinky shuffled from hoof to hoof, keeping her gaze at the floor. "Well," said Ditzy, "I have good news and bad news. The good news is that we closed the portal with minimal side effects. The bad news..." She bit her lip.

"You emptied my fridge."

"We emptied your fridge."

"There was a parsnip in there, Ditzy!" Carrot gasped and clapped her hooves over her mouth, but the damage was already done.

Ditzy tilted her head. "... So?"

Carrot's mouth worked wordlessly for a few moments. "So? So!? Do you know what I went through to get that parsnip?"

"Bought it in the market?"

"What?" Carrot took a step back in her shock. "No! I couldn't do that!"

"Why not?" asked Dinky.

"I—" Carrot Top swallowed the shout. "I'm a Golden-Harvest, Dinky."

The foal wrinkled her brow in confusion and looked to her mother. "Carrot's family is very old, very respected, and very rich," said Ditzy.

"Richer than Mr. Rich?"

Carrot nodded. "If I wanted to, I could buy and sell Barnyard Bargains several times over."

"She doesn't want to," Ditzy said to Dinky's disappointment. The pegasus turned to Carrot. "Still, I thought you wanted to distance yourself from your family. You know, be your own mare, make your own name. I mean, you did make your own name. That's why I'm not calling you Zannoria."

"That doesn't mean I want to drag my family's reputation through the mud." Carrot stomped a hoof. "I can't be seen consorting with other root vegetables!"

Ditzy and Dinky looked at one another with matching looks of incomprehension. "Dinky," said Ditzy, "what I'm about to say is kind of tribally insensitive. Not something you ask just anypony, okay?"

Dinky tilted her head, looking more confused than ever. "Okay?"

Ditzy turned back to Carrot. "Is this an earth pony thing?"

After a few deep breaths, Carrot ground out, "It's more of an old earth pony clan thing. If ponies saw me buying parsnips, it would be like... like Applejack buying pears!"

Somehow, Ditzy still didn't seem to grasp the severity of the situation. She just shrugged her wings and said, "Well, if it's that big a deal, I could always buy them for you."

Carrot's jaw dropped. "You... You'd do that for me?"

Ditzy smiled even as she quirked an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't I? We're friends."

Carrot sniffled and grabbed her in a hug. "Address is a lucky stallion. Thank you, Ditzy."

"Uh, sure."

"Just don't let this happen again," Carrot said, tightening her hold.

"Yeah! Sure thing! Please let go now!"

Shameful Acquisition BB
Sorcery
As an additional cost to cast Shameful Acquisition, pay X life.
Search your library for a card with converted mana cost X or less, reveal it, and put it into your hand. Then shuffle your library.
Nopony but buyer and seller knew, but that was still too many for Carrot Top's conscience.

Author's Note

The original inspiration for this came from a comment archonix posted on one of my blogs and Applejack, I Can Explain!, Alaborn's entry in the January 2016 Writeoff. Given my criminal underuse of Carrot Top (or Zannoria Keratine Golden-Harvest V, as her mother addresses her Hearth's Warming cards) in this setting, I felt this was a prime opportunity to start rectifying the situation.

And yes, the chapter title is a reference to the WoodenToaster song. Not sure whether or not that particular cosmos describes Carrot or not.