Lord Mayor Applejack

Chapters

How We Got Here * Where We're Going * What We Found There
The Dietary Needs of an Omnivore * The Writing Habits of a Lizard * The Gravitational Pull of a Sunset
Reason * Tolerance * Manners
Formal Attire * Nectar of the Gods
Taking Care * Talking Care * Timing, Care
What Mines the Hills * Whodunit * Uhpplejock
Cowards * Soldiers * Escapees * Apologies
Barrows and Wights * Carriages and Wagons * Hi and Bye * No and Never * Voyages and Destinations
The Aftermath
The Caliber of a Hat * The Bounty of a Meal * The Limitations of a Father

How We Got Here * Where We're Going * What We Found There

Applejack still wasn’t sure whether she won an election or a popularity contest.

Mayor Mare had been well-liked for her first term as Lord Mayor of Ponyville, as well as for about half of her second. Her third term revealed, or perhaps merely confirmed, a very unfortunate detail about herself: A penchant for Excessive Celebration.

Nopony was against a little holiday, now and again. At least not out loud, as those tended to be swamped by Pinkie Pie Parties until they succumbed to either delight or a sugar coma. Mayor Mare, on the other hoof, delighted in celebrations almost as much as the aforementioned Element of Laughter. Or the bearer thereof.

One of the key duties for a Lord Mayor of Anywhere was the balancing of the local budget. The income and the outflow, the taxes and the penalties, the spending and the other spending… Mayor Mare had the unfortunate habit of twisting the budget in favor of new holidays.

Most ponies were more than pleased about the medal-awarding ceremony for the great hero Mare-Do-Well, though four citizens later expressed an unwillingness to talk about it. Hearthswarming Eve celebrations had never been more extravagant, the foals loved it! Nightmare Night attracted even the high-viewing eye of the Princess of the Night. There was always another holiday to be declared, or a great public service to be commended, or a mighty statue to be erected.

(*): It had once been the Ponies of Ponyville, but after Cranky Doodle Donkey, his wife Matilda, Muleia Mule, Marko Mule, and Fabio the diamond dog moved in, there was something of an outcry over equal representation. Martial Paw the Griffon's on-again-off-again citizenship sealed the deal with that one.

It was near the end of that fateful third four-year term that the People of Ponyville (*) discovered that their celebration came at the expense of the road repair budget. A few thousand broken wagon wheels later, they were up in arms for some sort of restitution.

The budget, at that point, was already locked in for another year of reckless abandon. The People of Ponyville were displeased to discover that Excessive Celebration was only cause to call foul in a hoof-ball game, and not reason for impeachment. Twilight Sparkle might have mentioned something about Misuse of Public Funds, but most ponies were too busy TP-ing Mayor Mare’s house to notice.

At the end of that third term, after twelve years of broken wagon wheels and aching hooves, Applejack, a local business owner, was ready to clean house. After some serious deliberation, she decided to run for the position of Lord Mayor of Ponyville.

Her only opponent was Mayor Mare. It was, by all accounts, a rather embarrassing loss. Applejack was seen by the community to be a very practical pony, who would no doubt enact measures to correct the previous regime’s foibles.

Thus, Lord Mayor Applejack took office. Conversely to Mayor Mare’s early career, she was unpopular during her first year. The holidays were that much more down key, the celebrations that much more infrequent. The People of Ponyville sought to complain even as their roads were repaved.

The year was neatly capped off with Applejack’s famously-blunt “Do You Want Your Darned Cake or Do You Wanna Stinking Eat It?” speech. Applause was sparse.

(1): Fabio said he was honored, but he could never marry somepony whose butt smelled like flowers.

As snow fell, so too did the People of Ponyville’s collective spirit. Just before Hearth’s Warming Eve, Filthy Rich personally financed a humongous, decorated tree to be placed in the town square. Word on the street was that his daughter, Diamond Tiara, had threatened to run off to Las Pegasus to elope with the local diamond dog if he didn’t make Hearth’s Warming perfect (1).

When Winter Wrap-up came along, the People of Ponyville purchased their own vestments and supplies. When Nightmare Night rolled around, Luna chipped in for the spooky party.

(2): Untrue. Angel Bunny helped.

And all the while, road construction clogged up the highways and byways. People had to follow convoluted detours that appeared to be plotted out by Discord himself (2). Traffic jams were everywhere. When pressed for her solution to end the congestion, Applejack reportedly replied, “Ah’ll finish fixin’ the dang-blasted roads.”

And the People of Ponyville complained.

Budget planning was not the only duty allotted to Lord Mayors of Anywhere, of course. They also had a voice in the goings on around the kingdom of Equestria. Each town’s mayor reported directly to Princess Celestia, and Princess Celestia often went to them for advice on this or that matter. There was also the matter of voting on various courses of action.

For Applejack, this give and take session took the form of her first meeting with a committee.

(3): A three-time Equestria Games gold medalist, Gaston became the first griffon mayor in Equestria history. He, too, seemed to have won a popularity contest.

She liked the other mayors well enough. At least the ones who were polite to her. Mayor Fancy Pants of Canterlot was an old friend of Rarity’s, and Mayor Gaston of Cloudsdale (3) always had a funny little aside to add to the meetings.

Priscilla Palette, Lord Mayor of Fillydelphia, was not such an individual.

She decried Applejack’s policies, her approach, and her decisions. She was the countervote to Applejack’s every voiced opinion. She was the anathema to all things Apple.

Applejack almost had the urge to make a motion to declare the sky blue, just to see Priscilla fumbled over whether to agree with her or not.

“On top of that,” Priscilla had proclaimed one meeting, “her move to completely obliterate celebrations has completely demoralized the Ponies of Ponyville!”

“People of Ponyville, actually,” Applejack had informed her again. “And ah ain’t against parties. Ah still ain’t.”

Celestia nodded, her smile sweet, her eyes just hinting at fatigue. “And what, in your opinion, would be the proper way to proceed, my little pony?”

“Reinstate the celebrations!” Mayor Palette said. “Give the ponies what they want! Return to them the fruit of their labors!”

“That was the whole point of—” Applejack sat there, her forelegs pointing in whichever way would make her feel better. “Our roads look like horseapples!”

“Then maybe you should have invested in a better street-sweeper!”

Celestia bit down on her lips to prevent a snort of laughter. Regaining her composure, she popped the big question of the night. “So, tax raise.”

“Quite the unpopular subject back home,” Fancy Pants said. “If you don’t mind me saying, your Majesty.”

“It’s true enough, irregardless,” said Minnie Marzipan of Appleloosa, making everypony worth their salt in grammar wince. “But we simply don’t have the funds for what we need to do!”

“Have y’all tried cuttin’ back on a few things?” Applejack asked. “Make the budgets work that way?”

Priscilla Palette stared down her nose at her fellow mayor. “Why no, dearest. We decided it would be much more profitable to watch you fail utterly at it.”

Applejack wished desperately for a hat to push up higher on her forehead. It wasn’t part of the uniform. “Yer askin’ for a…” She groaned and fell silent.

Princess Celestia smiled in her serene way. “What do the rest of you think?”

“I dunno, Your Majesty,” Gaston the Griffon said. “We’ve got a lot of expenses up in Cloudsdale, you understand…”

“Like the new wing of the museum to display recent gold medalists.” Applejack smirked. “No conceit there, huh?”

Gaston coughed, but said no more.

“Ah’m just sayin’,” Applejack was saying, “that a little less here lets there be a little more o’er here.”

“And at the end of the day,” Priscilla chuckled, “there’s a whole lot of nothing.”

“Naw.” Applejack shrugged. “A whole lot of nothin’ was when the cake-delivery cart broke a wheel on our cruddy roads and tumbled into a ravine.”

A shake of the head accompanied Celestia’s tiny smile. “Shall we put it to a vote? Or would anyone else like to voice an opinion?”

The chorus of unaffected shrugs said that most minds had been made up long before they arrived at the meeting. During the vote, the show of hooves played out much like an interpretive dance. Applejack did not raise her hoof, and neither did Gaston raise a talon.

“Then it is settled,” Celestia said. “The tax raise is passed.”

Applejack’s eye twitched. Did Priscilla just stick her tongue out? She did!

The afterward was a nice little fellowship, with coffee and doughnuts the main reason anypony stayed. Celestia mingled for a few moments before making her way purposefully to Applejack. “May I speak with you, my little pony?”

“O’ course, Princess,” Applejack said with a small bow.

“I would like to make a request, with your permission,” Celestia said, “But first I would like to know whether you have made a stand-in mayor in case of an absence.”

(4): Somewhere, sometime, somehow, Pinkie Pie said, “I brought the life to the political party!”

“Oh, sure,” Applejack said. “She was mah runnin’ mate. (4)”

“Good.” Celestia tilted her head to the door. “Then would you accompany me on a journey out of the country?”

“Ah…” Applejack squinted. “This is all real sudden-like.”

“Well, there’s been something of a discovery in Beefland.” Celestia smiled out of the side of her mouth. “The minotaur homeland?”

“That’s… kinda unfortunately named.”

“It’s really a way of life more than a…” Celestia made a “hmm” sound. “Never mind.”

She rustled her wings to get the barest of kinks out. “I like to have all the mayors be at least the least bit knowledgeable about Equestria’s foreign relations, and I think a trip is the best way to get a feel for a country. A people.”

She grinned. “But in truthfulness, I just want a friend’s company.”

“Well, shucks.” Applejack returned the grin. “How can ah say ‘no’ to that?”

“I hoped you couldn’t.” Celestia held back a regal yawn. “Can you make the necessary arrangements in the next couple of days? I would like to proceed with all haste, due or not.”

“Heck, we can leave tomorrow, if you like.” Applejack would have taken her hat off in this bow, if she had been wearing it. “Ah’ll square things away with Pinkie, pronto.”

Celestia smiled as Applejack walked away. Her ear gave the faintest of twitches downward. “Did she say ‘Pinkie’?”

“An’ then mah brother up an’ decides that since he’s married, he needs to grow this big, dumb beard,” Applejack said. “He looks more like a peach than an Apple now with all that orange fuzz under his chin!”

Celestia laughed lightly before drawing her tea cup up to her lips. “They are happy?”

Applejack leaned back in her chair, a mug of hot cider cradled in her hooves. “Yeah. Happier than I’d ever seen ’em.” She winked. “Happy enough that ah’m expectin’ nieces and nephews any day now.”

The princess and the lord mayor shared a private cabin on the good ship, Buttercup’s Folly. Celestia, being relatively out of the public eye for once, felt a belly laugh was actually prudent for the situation. Applejack, having never really seen the princess belly laugh before, was on the edge of her seat, ready to call any number of Royal Guards down upon them.

“Y-you okay, Princess?”

“Yes, Applejack.” Celestia wiped a tear away. “It’s just nice to laugh. Sometimes I feel like some ponies would flop over dead if they so much as saw me crack a grin.”

“Ah’ll pay yah a year’s worth of Sweet Apple Acres cider if’n you try it around Prissy Palette,” Applejack said.

Celestia’s cheeks bulged as she stifled a guffaw. “That’s not very nice.”

“Neither is she.” Applejack shook her head. “What’s the big deal about laughin’, anyhow? Everypony laughs.”

Celestia turned her head to the side. “Appearance is everything, Applejack. I must present myself as serene and impartial, you understand.” She shrugged. “Nopony would follow a princess that acted like Pinkie Pie, bless her heart.”

Applejack snorted. “You ’member who you’re talkin’ to, right? Nothin’ wrong with bein’ honest. No law against it.”

“Not in Equestria,” Celestia sighed. “But they’re not the only ones I need to convince.”

Applejack’s brow furrowed. “Yeah. About that. What should ah expect?”

“Oh, President Mangle will love you, I’m sure.” Celestia waved a hoof. “He’s a soul that values the strength of telling it like it is.”

“President Mangle…” Applejack pursed her lips. “Of Beefland.”

“He’s a sweetie,” Celestia said. “Despite his name.”

There was a nervous knock on the door. “Your Majesty, Your Lordship, we’ve arrived in Beefland waters.”

Celestia rose, and Applejack followed suit. They trotted to the upper deck, where they could get a full view of the Beefland harbor. Celestia made a show of opening her wings, the sunlight reflecting off of her feathers. Applejack could see the people on land turn with wide eyes at the sight.

Applejack smirked. “Just keepin’ up appearances, huh?”

Celestia smiled, her eyes closed. “Shh. I’m trying to be regal and mystical here.”

Applejack took a second look at the shore. “Uh, Yer Majesty…”

“Yes, Applejack?”

“What… um…” Applejack shook her head. “Ah was expectin’ more minotaurs and… less cows.”

“Well, it is Beefland, is it not?”

“Ah guess.”

“They are rather beefy, aren’t they?”

“Now yer just bein’ rude, Yer Majesty.”

Celestia scrunched her face up as her wings glowed extra bright. “Shh. Regality, etcetera, etcetera.”

She gave Applejack a sparing glance out of her right eye. “Besides, it’s said that the cows and the minotaurs have a deep and enriched history together.”

Applejack pulled her hat off of her head. “We talkin’ subjugation, or…”

“Intermarriage.”

“Oh.”

Applejack looked out at the shore in a new light, one that she desperately desired to dim. “Ah can’t… make much of that…”

Celestia, under the guise of a wave at the growing crowd, pointed at her head. “Compatible horns.”

“That don’t even—” Applejack plopped her hat back on her head. “Are you teasin’ me?”

“Princesses do not tease,” Celestia said with solemnity. “They jest.”

They docked, and Celestia marched down the gangplank with grace. Applejack tottered down the gangplank with Care and Caution, the two Royal Guards accompanying them. Two other guards, Sturm and Drang, stayed behind on the Buttercup’s Folly.

Applejack had decided during the trip that she hadn’t quite gotten her sea legs. Now that she was ashore, she decided that she hadn’t quite kept her land legs either. She leaned against Caution’s muscular side. “Sorry, pardner, lost mah footin’.”

“Quite awroit, marm,” the earth pony stallion said. “Ever need a fifth leg tah stand on, oi’m yer guy.”

“Just take it a little slower”—Care sighed through her nose—“and you won’t need a fifth leg to stand.”

“Fair ’nough,” Applejack grunted. “Can’t say as ah like bein’ called ‘marm.’”

“’Pologies, then, Lord Mayor,” Caution said.

If ponies only wore clothing on special occasions, minotaurs were even more sparse in their dress. Nudity was the word of the day, no matter if they were shopkeepers, soldiers, or royalty. In its stead, they covered themselves with body paint, creating decorations of various meanings and interpretations. While that police officer over there was painted over with red and blue lines, that baker over there actually had a loaf of bread tattooed to his chest.

Applejack touched her hat, that niggling feeling of being overdressed creeping its way into her belly.

“Relax, Applejack,” Celestia said. “Nobody’s going to think less of you.”

“Really?” Applejack mumbled. “’Cuz ah got a million eyes on me right now.”

“It’s just curiosity.” Celestia nodded towards a large building at the center of the city. “That’s their capitol building. Mangle and his family live there.”

The structure was generally oval, if you didn’t pay too much attention to the squared-off entrances. Strange lines of color streaked across its surface, giving it a friendly appearance. It had the appearance of a Spring Solstice egg that had the ends cut off.

“So what do they call that?” Applejack asked.

“The Egg.”

Applejack’s mouth opened, but no words came out.

“Don’t ask me why,” Celestia said, a twinkle in her eye. “I think it fits, though.”

“Well, yeah, but…” Applejack shrugged. “Ah was expectin’ it to be some sort of pun, like ‘the Bullwark.’”

“You’ve lived in Equestria too long,” Celestia said.

They came through the building’s entrance and were led to a sitting room. While the chairs were mostly designed to accommodate the frames of minotaurs, there were a few cow-friendly seats available. Celestia took one of the larger cushions, while Applejack settled down a few feet away from her.

“His Excellency will meet with you shortly,” the cow aide said. She spoke into a tiny black wire hanging from her ear and walked out of the room.

Applejack looked around the room. “Swanky.”

The wood on the chairs was carved into intricate designs, like she had only seen done by a unicorn. A lion’s face roared out of one armrest, and the chair’s legs ended in lion’s paws.

“Hands are marvelous things,” Celestia said. “Sometimes I’ve considered trying them out, just for a day.”

“Not me.” Applejack shuddered. “A leg ain’t supposed to end in that many points.”

“Announcing His Excellency, President Mangle of Beefland!” the cow aide said as she appeared quite suddenly. Celestia stood, and Applejack followed her lead. A massive minotaur that looked to be at least ninety-percent muscle stood in the doorway, his shoulders scraping the sides.

“President Mangle.” Celestia smiled a serene, small smile. “It has been far too long.”

“Likewise, Princess Celestia.” The minotaur bowed, and Applejack almost thought she heard his muscles creak in protest. “I can’t wait to get caught up over a good meal, but we have pretty beefy things to talk about first.”

“Indeed.” Celestia nodded. “Your letter mentioned that I needed to come immediately, but you didn’t quite specify why.”

“Well”—Mangle rubbed the back of his neck—“you know I wouldn’t tell you to get over here without a good cause.”

Celestia gave a friendly smirk. “Yes. That is why I am here instead of exchanging form letters with your office.”

She extended a wing over Applejack’s head. “But first, I’d like to introduce my assistant for the trip: Applejack, Lord Mayor of Ponyville.”

Applejack blushed at the use of her full title. “Please to make yer acquaintance, yer Excellency.”

Mangle extended a fist, which Applejack met with a bump. “Likewise, but call me Mangle. Or Prez, if you wanna get more formal.”

Applejack nodded. “Then ‘Applejack’ is just fine with me.”

President Mangle beckoned for them to follow him with a strange little dance of his fingers. Care and Caution followed at a respectable distance. They navigated the halls of the Egg until they stood near its middle. Mangle put his hand on a door handle. “So, we’re all cool with how beefy a secret this is, right?”

Celestia raised a concerned eyebrow. “International Security?”

“More important than that,” the President of Beefland said. “We found a new Sapience.”

Applejack thought for a moment. “A whatnow?”

“A new creature,” Celestia whispered. “A new creature that exhibits the ability to reason.”

She frowned. “This could be dangerous. The last new Sapiences were the changelings.”

Mangle nodded, his hand gripping the handle tightly. “And the one before that was Discord. But I think this one will be a lot different.”

Applejack touched one foreleg with her other hoof. “How beefy of a difference are we talkin’ about?”

Mangle gave her a wry smile. He turned back to Celestia with level eyebrows. “Well, you can see for yourself.”

He opened the door, admitting the Princess and the Lord Mayor, but not their guards. Applejack found herself in another sitting room, but one a bit more comfortably furnished. Instead of lion’s heads, the armrests had simple loopy carvings that could be done with even an earth pony’s dexterity.

At the far end of the room sat a creature, wrapped tightly in a home-stitched blanket. Long hair flowed off of its head and obscured its face. From what could be made out from the slouching, concealed form, it was bipedal like a minotaur, but had mostly bald skin aside from its head. The legs looked like they were missing a joint, since the ankle was low. The creature cowered deeper into the blanket at their appearance and emitted a whine.

“Hello, little one,” Celestia said in her most soothing voice. “Can you tell me your name?”

The creature said something in a garbled, throaty language.

Celestia gave Mangle a “psst” out of the side of her mouth. “Have you figured out what language it’s speaking?”

“Can’t make steak or beef of it, Celestia.” Mangled popped his knuckles absently. “I think it’s been isolated from anybody for however long it’s been around.”

“You obviously have a language,” Celestia told the creature. “So you haven’t been completely alone.” She pursed her lips. “There must be some way to communicate—”

“Hey, Prez,” the cow aide said from outside the door. “We’ve got a new arrival at the gates. He’s been shouting that he needs a red carpet to walk in on.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. Celestia sighed. “You invited Izod, didn’t you?”

“Well, you know…” Mangle danced his fingers together. “This is a really big discovery.”

Light dawned in Celestia’s eyes. “Mangle, just how many leaders did you invite?”

President Mangle shuffled back a step. “All of them.”

“All,” Celestia said. “All,” she repeated.

“Declaring the arrival of Izod the Immense, Lord of the Land of Lightninggale!”

(5): To remove all ambiguity, her name is Aida.

The cow aide, whose name will surely come up sooner or later (5), found herself shoved forward into the room. A donkey stood behind her, arrayed in scarlet, purple, and gold robes. The crown atop his head was at least as heavy as the donkey himself was, if not as huge. A slightly more concisely dressed donkey stood just outside the room, girded in a purple tunic with a gold strand about his middle.

“And Advisor Aspen the Alliterative,” the cow aide mumbled.

Celestia bowed her head in reverence, which not-quite-coincidentally placed her mouth next to Applejack’s ear. “Sorry, Applejack. You’re about to get a little more culture than I bargained for.”

Author's Note

The governments represented in this story are not analogous to any modern or past real-world governments. They are also not my ideal governments. So there. Please, sit back and enjoy the world building. :pinkiehappy:

This story is the second in a budding new series that takes place in Near-future Equestria (and now outside it). The first was Fahr Drill, which can be read here.

So I decided to celebrate April Fools Day by posting the beginning of this story. Yes, it's a real story. Let's see how well I manage this little stretching of my comfort zone.

The Dietary Needs of an Omnivore * The Writing Habits of a Lizard * The Gravitational Pull of a Sunset

Applejack was pretty sure the Sapience was smiling. That or it was hungry. She’d only seen a face that flat on bulldogs, and the shape threw off the curve of the mouth.

Its eyes sparkled, so that was probably a good indication that Seabreeze wasn’t about to be devoured.

The breezie fluttered around the Sapience, examining every inch of the creature. When it held out a hand, fingers extended like a tree branch, he took a hesitant flap closer. After a second of deliberation, he appeared content to maintain his distance.

“I wunt to see the Sapeence,” Crisperfall could be heard saying. “Can I, Papa?”

Seabreeze gave the door a brief glance. “Noot oontil I am shoor that it won’t eat us whole.”

“That could be forever!”

Seabreeze crossed his forelegs. “Oor it could take all of three seconds.”

Crisperfall’s eyes widened, and the young breezie fell silent.

Seabreeze zipped behind the Sapience and examined the long hairs growing from its head. “Hmm. Mammalian, obviously enoof. Bipedal.” He waved a hoof. “Mees Aida, whoot are its dietary habits?”

“It seems to like fruit,” the cow aide said. “Vegetables, not so much.”

Seabreeze scratched his chin. “No real way to tell age, oor even general life cycle.”

The Sapience pointed at its outstretched fingers with its other hand, its mouth widening in its efforts to appear friendlier. Or maybe it was getting hungrier and had a terrible poker face.

Seabreeze peered closely, but not too much so, at the teeth. “Those incisors and canines… I think it might be omnivorous.”

Applejack stuck her head in the room. “Omniwhatnow?”

“Omnivorous,” Seabreeze repeated in his trilling voice. “Able to eat fruits and vegetables…” His eyes shifted to the Sapience. “And also meat.”

A hush fell on the crowd waiting outside the room.

“President Mangle,” Seabreeze said, “hev you tried to feed it meat yet?”

“Well, no.” Mangle popped his knuckles. “I didn’t wanna, you know, offend it or something.”

“Off—” Seabreeze threw his legs up. “Eef it is omnivorous, then it won’t be offended by plopping a carcass in front of it, will it?” He pounded one hoof into the other. “Theese is noot time for pansy-butt diplomacy, it is time for science!”

Another popped knuckle. “Can we wait for the griffons to get here? They know a thing or two about meat.”

“Eef eyewr chef is gooing to cook for them, then he should know a thing or two, too!”

The Sapience sat on a cushion, its blanket wrapped around its body. Its head turned one way and the other as it watched the conversation bounce back and forth. Its smile-or-hungry-look disappeared as it hung its head and studied its feet.

A strange growl rumbled out of it. It grasped at its stomach with a start. Applejack thought she detected a hint of a blush in its cheeks.

“One way or t’other,” Applejack said, “ah think it’s hungry now.”

Seabreeze watched the Sapience as he waved a hoof in Mangle’s general direction. “So goo grab a ham or soomthing.”

Mangle tensed up and looked away.

Izod brayed, a sneer on his lips. He held a hoof to his hat to keep it from rolling him over. “What’s got you tip-toeing around?”

“Much as it hurts to say it,” Applejack said, “ah kinda agree with Izod. It’s totally natural if it eats meat. Heck, it probably needs it for its body to work right. What’s chippin’ yer hooves?”

“Just…” Mangle snorted and rolled his shoulders. “Just don’t like meat, is all. Awful beefy stuff, you know?”

Celestia touched a wingtip to his elbow. “Perhaps it would be proper to delegate.”

“With your permission,” Aspen said, “I would be happy to inform the chef.”

“Thank you, Aspen.” Celestia patted Mangle’s arm as the donkey advisor trotted away. “Don’t worry about it, we all have our little quirks.”

Mangle gave a dismissive “pfft,” but his shoulders relaxed.

Aspen was away for a good twenty minutes, during which Crisperfall managed to finagle his way into the room. He was confined to either sitting on Royal Guard Care’s back, or nestling in the midst of her mane. Care kept her distance from the Sapience, though the way it hung back, it seemed equally happy with keeping away.

Applejack surmised that Izod was three times more likely to tip over without Aspen around to catch him. It took more willpower than she held to keep from guffawing every time it happened. He shot a glare her way each time, though the look never quite went away.

The first sign that Aspen was returning was the twitch in Mangle’s nostrils. The big minotaur coughed and held a hand over his face. The rest of the people present picked up the scent in short order, with varying reactions.

It wasn’t a bad smell, Applejack decided. She liked the smell of burning wood, and this was kinda-similar-maybe. It was almost like the smell of fire-roasted apples, except a bit harsher.

Izod did his best to outdo Mangle’s reaction, judging by the way he actively fake-gagged as the plate passed him by.

It didn’t look too bad, either, Applejack thought. It was just a round, pinkish slab on a plate, garnished with a sprig of parsley. The rising steam made her think of the old cinema cartoons where you could see the “smell” pick ponies up and carry them off.

The Sapience’s eyes grew wide. It turned to the door and opened its mouth about an inch. Drool escaped.

“There, eyew see?” Seabreeze polished a hoof on his form-fitting suit. “Omnivore.”

Aspen slowly, haltingly, achingly, inchingly placed the plate before the Sapience. He backpedalled quickly, desperately, and gladly. The Sapience looked at the plate, and its savory contents, and rubbed its hands together.

It reached for the ham, thought better of it, and turned to Celestia. It held out a fist, the thumb sitting on the top. Its other fist turned sideways and sat next to the first. The sideways fist moved towards and away from the vertical fist in a steady, even motion.

Mangle blinked. “Is it playing a tiny violin?”

The vertical fist came up to the Sapience’s open mouth.

“Naw,” Applejack said. “It wants silverware. Fork, knife, that sort of thing.”

Izod appeared between them, his hat swaying wildly. “No! No, we can’t give it those! It could become dangerous!”

Applejack scrunched her muzzle up. “It wants a fork.”

“Of course it does!” Izod said. “Haven’t you ever had your eye poked out with a fork before?”

Applejack closed one eye, then the other. “Can’t say as ah have.”

Izod blinked. “Well, neither have I, but it’s completely possible!”

“I agree weeth Izod,” Seabreeze said; he lolled his tongue to get the bad taste out of his mouth. “Vhee can’t joost geeve it tools right now. Not oontil after vhee can speak with it.”

Caution cleared his throat from his post at the door. “Your Majesty, per’aps Care and oi can serve as an incentive for the Sapience to b’have?”

“We’re in Mangle’s house,” Celestia said. She turned to the president. “He has the final say.”

Mangle ran his fingers through his beard. “Fine. Give it a fork and knife. Plastic.” He shrugged. “The thing has to eat.”

With the instruments procured, and with Care and Caution standing close by, the Sapience sat down to eat. Careful movements stabbed the fork into the meat, and the knife was drawn skillfully across its surface. A hunk was sawed off, and the sapience stuffed its cheeks full.

It chewed happily for far less than the requisite hundred times. Another hunk was cut and devoured, and so it went.

Celestia bent down to sit next to Applejack. “A bit for your thoughts.”

“If ah’d known my thoughts were worth that much, ah’d have started chargin’ years ago.” Applejack picked her hat off her head and set it to the side. “My gut tells me it ain’t dangerous. Ah ain’t an expert on such, ah know, but ah feel like this could come out as a good thing.”

She grimaced. “If somepony doesn’t screw it up. Heaven knows that’s easy to do.”

Celestia smiled. “I wouldn’t worry too much about that. Cooler heads will prevail.”

The lumbering steps of a cow rolled up as Aida joined the party. She bowed quickly to Mangle and said in a small, warble-wracked voice, “N-new arrival, Your Excellency.”

Mangle frowned. “Aida? What’s wrong?”

“M-might wanna”—Aida gulped—“see for yourself.”

(*): They exported other sorts of trees, including the type Ripshread used for the table in the Egg's dining hall, but cedars make for an especially nice metaphor.

Beefland was at least partially known for its export of cedar trees. As mighty, tall, and beefy as their cultivators, the trees were used in construction and art. They stood firm against the years, serving as a reminder of the strength of the minotaurs.(*)

It came as a bit of a shock to see these trees bowing in the wind.

Celestia’s serene mane usually didn’t see too much movement aside from a gentle wave. This wind, however, blew the glowing, pastel strands all over the place. One sparkling lock got into her mouth, prompting a princessly “Ptooee!”

“She always did like to make an entrance,” Mangle said. When it came to beards flowing majestically, his was the prime example.

(1): Timely intervention, in this case, translates to "combined weight."

Izod’s hat had been carried away the instant he stepped outside. He had clutched to the sides like an acrobat to a flying trapeze, and had to be pulled down to earth by the timely intervention (1) of both Caution and Aspen. The hat currently waited inside the Egg.

Applejack, on the other hand, was not so quick to abandon her hat. She clutched it to her head like a pony to a life raft. “What the heck is this? It’s like somepony opened up a can of stir-crazy pegasi!”

“It’s a hurricane on wings!” Seabreeze said. His tiny midsection was tied to Care’s via a short bungee cord, and fastened with only the most secure of latches. His cheeks ballooned out as he gripped the Care’s golden armor. “A living gale! A great beeg walking disaster!”

Mangle knelt down beside Care and Seabreeze. “I take it you’ve met Shard before?”

“Ja.” Seabreeze held his wings tight against his body. “Vhee had words a few years ago.”

“Ah,” Celestia said. She held a hoof to the side of her head to hold her mane at bay. “Then only Applejack needs to be introduced. This will make things a bit quicker.”

Applejack looked up at the cloudy sky. A rumble like thunder met her ears. “Quicker?”

“Shard has a bit of a habit.” Celestia searched the sky, a small smile on her face. “It’s a good habit for her, but it does take up a certain degree of time.”

A cloud exploded. Not with fire or lightning, but it was still suddenly spread out over a greater area than before. A flash of bluish-greenish color was spotted flying through it, before it vanished as quickly as it had come.

“Oh good,” Celestia said. “She’s close.”

The wind intensified into an alternating blast of heat and cold. Applejack shielded her face with her free hoof, but still couldn’t blot out the shiny, bluish-greenish tinge that landed in front of her.

The wind stopped.

Both of Applejacks hooves dropped as she steadied herself. She looked up. She looked further up. She looked even further up. Finally, she found the other person’s face.

(2): Swords were a widely popular weapon in both the minotaur and griffon cultures, mostly due to the existence of fingers. Other species utilized weapons of a more hoof-friendly make.

Scales that shimmered like gemstones. Muscles covered in armor and fit to tear down trees. Wings like the sails of a great ship. A tail like a steam locomotive. Teeth like swords (2). A mouth like a cave.

And, oddly enough, eyes that seemed very happy to see her.

“Applejack, I’d like to introduce you to a dear friend of mine.” Celestia spread her wings and flew up until she hovered beside the new arrival’s head. “Shardscale, Chronicler of the Dragons and Equestria.”

She turned to the dragon. “Shard, I’m honored to introduce you to my dear friend Applejack, Lord Mayor of Ponyville.”

Applejack stared for a moment, before lifting a hesitant hoof. “P-please to make—”

Shard held up a single claw. She opened her mouth and blew a gentle stream of flame. The blue fire hung in the air as she used her claw to swirl it around. She drew the shape of a feather pen, and then picked it right out of the air.

Another breath, another blue inferno. This time, she rolled her hand inside it until it swirled like a sideways tornado. A snap of her claws turned it into smoke, and another snap transfigured it into an enormous roll of paper. She grabbed the end, pulled it down, and then tapped her pen against it.

A voice rumbled out of the dragon, loud and low yet distinctly feminine. Like a mother using a middle name. “Okay, go ahead. I’m ready.”

Applejack tilted her head. “Ready for what?”

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

“To take notes,” the dragon said. She peeked over the paper and smiled.

“Oh.” Scribble. “Uh, pleased to make yer acquaintance.” Scribble, scribble, scribble.

“I’m honored to meet a Bearer of the Element of Loyalty,” Shard said. She blinked and looked back through the scroll. “No, wait… Honesty. Sorry. Honesty.”

(3): Applejack first heard this word during a discussion with Twilight Sparkle about the potential for a cloud house to catch fire.

Applejack decided, through much searching of all the words that she had heard and read in her lifetime, that there was one very good word to describe the dragon’s voice. Between the depth of the voice and its manner of speaking, the best descriptor was “incongruous.” (3)

“Thanks,” Applejack said. “Ah dunno how much of an honor it is since ah haven’t gone all magic-sparkly in years.”

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

(4): It was a bread plate, but a plate nonetheless.

“Heroic deeds from years ago are still heroic.” Shard tapped the paper to add a plate-sized (4) period to the end of a sentence. “Take it from a lizard who knows.”

She scribbled a few more words down, then turned to the others. “Who else do we have… President Mangle! How are yah? Is Able still your assistant?” At Mangle’s head-shake to the negative, she nodded. “Fair enough. Gonna have to introduce me to the newbie.” She sucked on the lower part of her mouth. “Hi, Izod. Been a while. Oh, and Aspen; hey!”

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

“Care, Caution. Good to see you guys moving up in the guard.” Shard looked around, her green eyes taking it all in. “That everybody so far?”

“Noo, it is noot!” a tiny voice declared.

Shard stuck her pinkie claw into her ear. “Sorry, didn’t catch that.”

Seabreeze unlatched himself and flew towards the dragon. His eyelids were level as he addressed the much, much larger creature. “Eyew’re good at gathering information, boot you hev issues weeth the details!”

Shard scribble, scribble, scribbled with a humorless smirk. “Oh, yeah. Seabreeze. I missed the sound of your voice.”

Applejack judged that her body was as big as Shard’s eye. She had trouble imagining that the dragon could even see the breezie at all.

“I missed the sound of property damage because eyew couldn’t find the good decency to walk!” Seabreeze’s blue face grew purple as he shouted. He buzzed around the dragon’s ear.

“I said I was sorry,” Shard said. Her scaly mouth pouted. Her shoulder tensed as she resisted the urge to swat at her ear. “I even helped rebuild.”

“Seabreeze,” Celestia said in that firm voice of hers, “now is not the time or the place for a confrontation.”

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

“Maybe,” Seabreeze growled, “I joost have issues with somepony that lacks the wisdom not to breathe on a breezie.”

Izod leaned to Aspen. “Why shouldn’t you breathe on a breezie?”

Aspen just sighed.

“Seabreeze,” Celestia said, “we can work this out later. For now, be still.”

Seabreeze crossed his forelegs and floated down to the ground.

Shard ran her tongue over her teeth. “So, Princess, who else are we expecting?”

Celestia’s eyes turned up in thought. “King Andean of the griffons, and Zipporah of the zebras. Once they’re here, we can get started in earnest.”

Shard made a “hmm” sound and hid behind the paper. “I was just in Felaccia.”

“Really?” Celestia said. Her eyebrows lowered. “What are the griffons up to these days?”

Shard smiled, but the smile faded like an ice cube melting in a dragon’s mouth. “Oh, hunting, hiking, building. That sort of stuff.” She flicked her eyes to the others with a quick nod of her head. “I’ll tell you all about it later.”

Celestia caught the subtle stressing of the word “later.” “Gotcha.”

She landed in front of Mangle and gave him a smile. He got the hint.

“Say, everyone,” Mangle said, “how ’bout we head to the garden out back? Nice places to sit and talk and stuff.” He gave Celestia a hopeful grin. “Then maybe we can watch a sunset?”

She nodded. “Only the best, dear Mangle.”

Applejack sat quietly as she watched the sun go down. Celestia was putting her all into it tonight, slowing down the descent to make the sight that much more breathtaking. To see minutes tick by as the blue burned to orange, yellow, and red. To watch the clouds grow purple against a sky ready to rest. Even after the sun itself vanished below the horizon, there was still a glow of color that lit the world in warmth.

Applejack smiled as she turned to look over her shoulder. The opposite horizon, the other side of the sky, sank into deeper and deeper purple until it finally faded to black. Stars could be seen peering all over, winking at her.

She kinda thought maybe they were laughing. Just maybe.

“I’m jealous.”

Applejack jumped. She had taken a seat on the edge of the garden, away from the trees that would have obscured the view. She looked over and saw Shard’s head rounding a bunch of hedge bushes. The dragon seemed to wrap around the entire garden.

“Beg pardon?” Applejack said.

“I’m jealous,” that low, rumbling, incongruous voice said. “You ponies, you people that live in Equestria, get to see this every single day.”

“D-don’t you get sunsets out here… or, wherever you live?”

Shard rolled her eyes. “You don’t get them like this. The world’s round, you see, so it’s like shining a lamp on a ball. Some spots get brighter than others.”

Applejack patted the ground. “Don’t feel round.”

Shard’s voice was a whisper, like distant thunder. “When you fly as high as I do, you can see it.” She smiled. “It’s just really, really dang big.”

Applejack nodded towards Shard. “Ah guess ah gotta take your word for it.”

“Hey,” Shard said, “I’m sure there’s a way to get you up there. Or there will be, someday.”

“An earth pony like me?” Applejack snorted, then guffawed, then snorted again. “Ah was made for the dust, not the clouds.”

Shard chuckled. “Don’t be too sure of the impossible. Impossible just means that we haven’t figured out the ‘how’ part yet.”

Applejack smiled and shook her head. She saw a constellation she liked in particular and traced it with her eyes. “So, Chronicler of Dragons… And Equestria. What’s the story there?”

Shard settled in, rolling her shoulders behind a hibiscus. “Dragons, funny things. Did you know they can take naps a hundred years long?”

“Believe you me,” Applejack said, “ah know that much.”

Shard blinked. “Huh. Okay. Well, when you nap that much, the world tends to move on pretty far. History just slips right past you, see? So during the Dragon Migrations, every few hundred years or so, a dragon likes to get informed.” She prodded herself in the chest. “That’s where I come in.”

She blew a puff of smoke that reconfigured itself into a roll of parchment. It was about the size of a pony. She took it in her claws and unrolled it. “So they choose a dragon—usually a young one, since we don’t nap as much—to fly around the world and chronicle stuff.” She draped the scroll across the ground in front of Applejack. “I give you last migration’s edition of the History of Equestria.”

Applejack read a few of the opening lines. “Summer Sun Celebration… Nightmare Moon… Hay, this is our story!”

“Darn right,” Shard said. “One of my favorite stories. I guess you could say it’s why I became the chronicler.”

Applejack looked up. “So you’ve been chronicler for six, seven years?”

“Just about.” Shard picked up the scroll, burned it with her breath, and watched it vanish into blue smoke. “Just getting started, but it’s a good start.”

Applejack lay down on her back, her hat sitting on her forehead. “Now what about the Chronicler of Equestria part?”

“It’s basically the same job,” Shard said. “I just send my files to Celestia after I get a few good scrolls’ worth. It gets printed, we both have documents, it’s all good.”

“You’re here to record the Sapience?” Applejack asked.

“That,” Shard said, “and just the fact that we’ve got so many leaders meeting in the same place. Do you know how long it’s been since the last time we’ve gotten all these folks together?”

“Ah’m guessing a long time?”

“Oodles of years.” Shard flexed the claws on her right hand. “This is historic to the max.”

Shard grabbed her giant feather pen and scribbled. Applejack tilted her hat back. “What’s up?”

“Just transcribing our conversation,” Shard said. “For posterity and all that.”

“Posterity.” Applejack hit a hoof against the ground. “Oh! That’s what you were doin’ when you first got here. You wanna make sure you don’t miss anythin’ important!”

“Bingo.” Shard closed her eyes and tilted her nose up. “You never know when somebody’s gonna propose, or declare war, or that kinda stuff.”

Applejack pulled her hat over her eyes. She blew a breath out between her lips. “Too right. Sometimes ah really wish ah could know that kinda stuff beforehand.”

“Even if you did,” Shard said, “you’d still have to do something about it.”

Applejack smiled. “The apples fall quicker if you know where to buck the tree.”

Shard thought for a moment, her pen hovering over the paper. She laughed.

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

Reason * Tolerance * Manners

Applejack prided herself on always rising before Celestia. This morning was no different, which meant that she found herself trotting around the perimeter of the Egg in near-complete darkness. Lord Mayor she was, and a diplomat atop that, but some habits die hard.

(*): Bucky McGillicuddy, on the other hoof, was quite content to spend a quiet vacation in bed. Bucky was outnumbered three legs to one.

Habits like that itch in Kicks McGee that said it was time to buck something (*). She considered going for an apple-less bucking run on the cedars growing by the Egg, but wondered if it would be offensive to the minotaurs. She didn’t much care for the idea of having her legs broken for putting a dent in the tall timbers. So she told Kicks to shush, and settled for a morning run.

She leaned against the Egg, one hoof on the wall. She took the opportunity to suck in a few deep breaths, sampling the smells of a new land. To be completely honest, it smelled a heck of a lot like a farm. Maybe cleaner. Maybe less fertilizer. But between the trees and the dirt and the grass, it smelled like home.

Applejack cocked an ear to point behind her. “Ah know you’re there. Y’all don’t have to hide.”

Hoofsteps came trotting up beside her. Applejack looked over and nodded. “Howdy, Guard Care. You usually up this early?”

“Not often, Your Lordship.” Care stood at full attention, but Applejack could see little bags under her eyes. The guard was wearing lighter armor than her usual ceremonial garb; chain mail linked around her torso, gauntlets covered her legs, and a simple round helmet protected her head. “Today I thought it prudent to take a run around the Egg.”

Applejack smirked. “Picked out the short straw, huh?”

Care twitched. She turned her head to Applejack. “Fair enough, ma’am. Regulations state that you need a guard with you at all times. This morning, that duty is mine.”

“Then welcome aboard the Early-Riser Express.” Applejack stuck out a hoof, and Care took it cautiously. She sat back and regarded the guard, her lower lip jutting out in thought. “So tell me, Care, what’s yer take on the new critter?”

Care returned to attention. “Permission to speak freely, ma’am?”

“Uh oh.” Applejack chuckled. “Ah guess if’n ah want yer honest opinion ah gotta say ‘yes,’ huh? Okay, shoot.”

Care frowned. “Celestia’s being too flippant. We should post a guard at the Sapience’s door at all times. Maybe inside the room. One that’s equipped to deal with strange magic. We really have no idea what that thing’s capable of.”

Applejack took her hat off and fanned herself with it. “Reason.”

Care’s eyebrow rose an iota. “Excuse me?”

“We know it’s capable of reasonin’,” Applejack said. “We just can’t communicate with it.”

“Capable of reasoning,” Care said. “But… willing to?”

“Good question.” Applejack shrugged. “Princess Celestia said that we’d find out once the zebras arrived. I tend to think she knows what she’s doin’ in stuff like this.”

Care angled her gaze to the side. “Yes. I suppose you’re right.”

“’Course ah am!” Applejack put a hoof on Care’s shoulder. “How ’bout one more lap around the Egg? Ah’ll race yah!”

Care smirked. Her horn glowed as she adjusted her helmet. “It would be an honor to race against a former rodeo blue ribbon winner.”

“Ain’t nothin’ ‘former’ ’bout it,” Applejack said. “Ah’m entering next year, too!”

The guard’s smirk evolved into a full-blown grin. “Then I’ll see you at the finish line there, too!”

They set off at a gallop. The sun lifted above the tree line just as they came full circle, bringing the world out of darkness and into living color. Applejack leaned against the side of the Egg as she fought to keep her breaths deep. “Sh-shucks. That all you got?”

Care rolled her shoulders and smiled. She scanned the horizon. “No, ma’am. I’m just getting started.”

Applejack laughed. “Confound you kids an’ yer boundless energy. You’re makin’ me feel like a granny.”

Care didn’t laugh. Her back stiffened and her tail hiked. “Lord Mayor, we need to get Celestia.”

Applejack came up beside her and stared into the distance. She didn’t see much of anything. “What’s up?”

Care pointed to a tiny blob in the midst of the ocean. “We need to tell her that the griffon ships have arrived.”

Applejack had to admit it, she wasn’t used to being around things that were bigger than Celestia. Now she had to content with not only Mangle and his vertical superiority, and Shard with her—um—everything superiority, but also the griffons.

An average griffon was about three times the body mass of a pony. Their lion roots led to them being muscular and powerful, and their avian side led to a grace that was unmatched by most of creation. The griffon guards dwarfed Care and Caution, their sheathed weapons gleaming in the morning light.

Naturally, as Celestia was to an ordinary pony, so King Andean was to an average griffon.

He towered over Applejack, his head turned to the side to focus a single eye on her. Just as most griffons were bigger than ponies, he was triple Celestia’s size. Applejack couldn't help but break off the staring contest to get a fuller look at him.

His head lacked feathers, showing off wrinkly gray skin. The rear of his beak sat flush with his flat forehead, while the front curved down into a meat-tearing hook. Around his neck sat an enormous mane of white feathers, which served to give weight to his otherwise narrow head.

(1): Minotaur roads were just about wide enough for five minotaurs to walk together side by side. This allowed for lots of foot traffic, as well as room for two carriages to pass each other. Even then, King Andean was feeling a little cramped.

Black feathers grew across his chest and to his midsection, where it was replaced by glossy black fur. His wingspan stretched fully across the street, blocking any passage (1). The tips of his wings and a bit of his belly were white.

His head was that of a condor, and his rear was that of a bear.

“King Andean Ursagryph,” Celestia said. She bowed her head. “It is an honor to meet with you again.”

Andean may have scowled, or that might have just been the curve of his beak. “Princess. Why have I been summoned?”

President Mangle coughed into his hand. “Maybe we should take this inside? To discuss it in private?”

Andean turned to Mangle, and Applejack watched the muscular minotaur wilt. The griffon walked forward at a near-lumber. “Why, President?” Andean said. The corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk. “Do you have something to hide?”

Mangle gulped. “Yes?”

Andean’s head twitched to his guards. “Crested! Stellar! Come!”

He glanced to the side, where Izod was teetering back and forth, Aspen gently nudging him to one side or the other. “It had to be important to get Izod out of bed,” he muttered.

Andean lurched forward and ran down the road. His wings caught the wind and lifted him into the sky. He circled overhead, his mass shadowing the sun occasionally. His wings locked, and he held steady.

His guards joined him a moment later and followed him to the Egg.

Applejack shook her head. “By gosh. Ah dunno what tah say.”

Aspen leaned close. “Whatever it is, choose it very carefully.”

Applejack pointed a hoof at the flying griffons. “What? Is this why you told me to watch what I say?”

Aspen sighed through his nose. “A large part of it, yes. You will never get the king to like you, but you might stay tolerable.”

“Tolerable. Never much liked the word.” Applejack frowned. “People ‘toleratin’’ me always made it sound like ah was doin’ somethin’ wrong.”

Aspen skittered over to Izod, corrected his downward plunge, then returned to Applejack’s side. “When have you had the opportunity to be ‘tolerated’?”

“Trust me,” Applejack groaned. “Ah’ve had lots of experience havin’ upper crust-type ponies ‘tolerate’ the silly little farm girl from Ponyville.”

Applejack tilted her head back and sniffed. She closed her eyes and spoke in a spot-on Manehatten accent. “Oh darling, that silly pony is getting dirt on our concrete. Oh, but we must love and tolerate the dullard, Sweet Cheeks. Oh yes, of course, for we are the loving type. Truly.” She snorted. “Buncha hypocrites.”

Aspen’s lip curled. “I see you’ve taken the high road of not tolerating anything at all?”

Applejack jerked her head around. She glared at him. “Ah’ll be nice. Manners don’t cost nothin’. But if’n ah see somethin’ stupid, it’s gettin’ called out.”

“I’m sure that’s very endearing.” Aspen raised an eyebrow. “So you weren’t thinking of running for reelection?”

Applejack squinted. “Maybe, maybe not. What the hay’s that got to do with anything?”

Aspen looked at Izod. The Lord of Lightninggale walked towards the Egg, his hat’s weight pulling him forward. “The path to power,” Aspen said, “is walked upon the backs of stupid people.”

He walked forward and spoke over his shoulder. “Keep your head down, your eyes forward, and your lips dipped in honey, and you will go far.”

Applejack watched him walk off in his lord’s wake. She sighed and pulled her hat lower over her eyes. “Ah hate politics.”

“So do I, Applejack,” Celestia said. She touched a wing to Applejack’s back. “But not everypony has the same outlook as Aspen.”

Applejack flicked her tail. “So what’s yer outlook?”

Celestia pressed her lips together lightly. “I know that there’s always a nicer way to say something.” She smiled, shrugged, and joined the forward march to the Egg.

Applejack stood still, her jaw slack. “Of all the—the stupid non-answers,” she hissed. She ran until she caught up with the princess. “Ah mean your outlook on this tolerance thing.”

Celestia looked down at Applejack, her eyes soft. “I believe that correction should always be given with the intent to build up. To make better.” She turned her eyes forward. “And it should be given in the way best suited to help the one who needs correcting.” She lifted her eyes to the sky, then nodded. “If it needs correcting.”

“An’ how do you know ‘if’ it needs correctin’?” Applejack asked.

“A good first question is: ‘Is this hurting anypony?’” Celestia shrugged. “Beyond that, it becomes a case-by-case thing, honestly.”

Applejack rolled her eyes. “Ah’ve noticed a lot of things are ‘case-by-case’ lately.”

“People are unique, Applejack.” Celestia had a tired smile on her face. “Why should their foibles be any different?”

A gust of wind blew Applejack’s hat from her head as Andean came in for a landing. He reared up on his hind legs and held his talons out. “Who invited the witch!?”

Celestia’s mouth dropped open. “I beg your pardon!”

“The witch! That zebra from Girafrica!” He set his left foreleg on the ground and balled his right talon into a fist. “I see her ship in the distance! Who invited her!?”

Applejack heard a clomp behind her. She turned and watched President Mangle duck behind a nearby wall. The minotaur peeked around the side, giant beads of sweat dripping down his neck.

“Um, I did.” Mangle popped a knuckle. “It’s important.”

Andean thundered closer. He started into Mangle’s eyes with fiery intensity. His head twitched to the side. “Very well, then. Let her prodigious judgment fall on you.”

He flapped off, blowing Applejack’s hat further down the street. She raced after it, snorting steam as she went. She lifted her hoof and hollered at the sky. “Give a pony a little warnin’ next time, yah hear!?”

Celestia hid her smile beneath a hoof. She watched Andean soar and made a “tsk” sound. “Although, there are some who refuse to take correction at all.”

King Andean reclined outside the Sapience’s room. He rolled two smooth, shiny stones around in one talon, and alternated between studying the objects and looking inside the door. Applejack marveled at how his talon clutched the stones, moving them around as an afterthought.

She looked at her hooves. “Maybe hands ain’t so creepy after all.”

“Oh no, Your Lordship,” Care whispered into her ear. “They really are.”

A zebra stallion stood beside Care, his stripy body threatening to strain Applejack’s eyes. She had discovered that Zecora’s Mohawk was the default mane-style for both male and female zebras, with small variations therein. Za’rapha, one of the two zebras to arrive that day, had his Mohawk tapered near the top, giving it the appearance of an axe.

He kept glancing at the griffon king, only to look away just as quickly.

An orb of magic floated just outside the room, through which the eye of a dragon could be seen. The orb was coated in the golden magic of Celestia, who watched with as keen an interest as Shard. The scribble, scribble, scribble of the dragon’s pen leaked out through the orb, along with occasional “hmms.”

The Sapience stared into a large, black cauldron. It roiled and bubbled, though there was no fire to heat it. An aged zebra mare, Zipporah, tossed herbs, liquids, mixtures… just about everything on hand into the pot. The gold rings around her ankles and neck jingled as she bobbed around the room, whispering the recipe to herself.

“With a number of truffles, a half of a score,” Zipporah said, “the power of babble holds kingship no more!”

She dipped a ladle into the brew. She beckoned the Sapience forward with a hoof and held the mixture up for her to drink.

The Sapience shook its head. It pointed at the brew, and then pointed at the zebra.

Zipporah frowned. “Come now, silly fool! To think such of my cooking is cruel!”

“Wouldn’t that be magnificent?” Andean said. He held the stones up to a lamp and watched the reflection change. “We’d have to teach the Sapience how to speak properly the slow way.”

Seabreeze tugged at his fluffy white collar. “Vhee doon’t hev time for this! Joost force it doon ets throat!”

“No need for that,” Celestia said. She walked into the room and put a wingtip on Zipporah’s shoulder. “May I?”

Zipporah frowned, but handed the ladle to the princess. Celestia drank deep, letting out a small “mm” sound as she stared pointedly at the sapience. She made a show of licking her lips and got another scoop of the soup.

She held it out to the Sapience, who watched it closely. It took the ladle carefully and sniffed. With a shrug, the Sapience downed the mixture.

It came up for breath coughing and sputtering. Its ears and mouth sparkled as it dropped the scooper. “Ack!”

Everybody leaned close. Celestia bowed her head and looked the Sapience in the eyes. “Can you understand me, little one?”

The Sapience ducked down, its eyes wide. It made several popping sounds with its lips. “You… you can talk?”

“Typical,” Andean said. “If it isn’t speaking your language, it obviously can’t speak at all.”

“Well, well it’s just…” The Sapience held its hands out. “You’re all animals!”

Andean’s eyes narrowed. Izod plowed into the room, his hat bobbing on his head. “Now you take that back this minute! I think we can agree that we are all people here!” He turned to Seabreeze and Mangle, his hat tilting. “Some more important than others.”

“Ja, ja, ja.” Seabreeze fluttered up to the Sapience and hovered before its face. “Whoo are eyew? What are eyew? Where are eyew froom?”

The Sapience stepped back, her eyes wide. Celestia put a hoof between Seabreeze and his target. “Easy,” the princess said. She turned to the Sapience. “Perhaps it would be best to start with our names. I am Princess Celestia. What’s yours?”

“M-my name is Megan.” She squinted at the caldron. “What is that stuff?”

“Long ago, the peoples were one,” Zipporah said. “Language was shared beneath the sun. But pride and stubbornness tore us apart.” She glanced out of the room. “Though still divided, this brew is a start.”

She lifted a hoof and held it over the cauldron. “A temporary enchantment, it’ll last the week. It will make this language easier to speak.”

Megan’s eyes just about shot out of her skull. She pulled her blanket tighter around her shoulders and shuffled back. “Y-you cast a spell on me?”

Zipoorah frowned. “Yes.” She looked at Celestia. “Is it not best?”

Celestia sat on the ground. “What’s wrong with magic?”

“It… it’s witchcraft!” Megan gasped. “It’s all sacrificing to demons, and getting revenge, and horrible spirits!”

Izod whinnied. “The only ‘horrible spirits’ around here come from Mangle’s vineyard.”

The minotaur snorted, but held his tongue.

“You can rest easy, Megan.” Celestia chuckled. “This is not witchcraft. It is soup. It is medicine. Our magic comes from the heart and the mind, not from the abyss.”

“We had an issue with a necromancer ram a few years back,” Care mumbled to Applejack. “He was trying to summon a great lava demon from a volcano.”

Applejack lowered an eyebrow and stuck her bottom lip out. “How’d that go for him?”

(2): Grogar, the self-styled Necromancer of Tambelon, had managed to salvage bells from the hat of Starswirl the Bearded. He jangled them outside of a dark cave, chanting in some strange, possibly butchered, language. The dragon, Smog, had always been a great connoisseur of music. When he heard the ramblings of the necromancer, he felt so utterly disgusted by the "sorry excuse for a melody" that he came out of the cave and ate Grogar. When later questioned, Smog said, "What I did, I did for music everywhere. You're welcome."

“The ‘mighty lava demon’ turned out to be a sleeping dragon.” Care grinned. “He woke up grumpy and hungry (2).”

“Ew,” Shard said through the orb. “Some dragons have no taste.”

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

Megan bit her lip. “Where am I?”

“Beefland, homeland of minotaurs and cows,” Mangle said. “I’m President Mangle. You looked pretty roughed-up when we found you.”

“What can you tell us about how you found Beefland?” Celestia asked. “Do you know where you’re from in relation to here?”

“I was…” Megan took another step back from the cauldron. “My family and I were traveling across the Rocky Mountains. To get to the west, you see.”

Celestia caught Applejack’s eye. She raised an eyebrow. Applejack shrugged and shook her head. “Pardon me,” Celestia said. “What are the Rocky Mountains?”

“Um.” Megan followed Seabreeze with her eyes as he bobbed about her head. “They split the country in half? Kind of.”

Applejack stuck her head in the room. “What country?”

Megan looked to the door. “The United States.”

Celestia pursed her lips throughout the resulting silence. “There are more of you?”

Megan furrowed her brow. “Of course. All over the world.”

“What sort of weaponry do you have?” Andean asked.

“Andean, please!” Celestia snapped. She gave him a severe look. “We can worry about that later.”

He took one of his stones in each talon. “We can worry about it now.”

He threw the rocks straight up. They met at the toss’ apex of their own accord. They bounced against each other as they tumbled down to his waiting talon.

He smirked. “We should worry about it now.”

“Andean, please, you must settle down!” Zipporah said. “Lest you forget the wisdom I shared with the griffon crown.”

Andean growled with the sound of an angry bear. Megan dove behind a chair. The zebra standing beside Applejack and Care reached into a packet hanging from his side.

“Enough!” Celestia shouted. She shook her head. “There are far more important things to speak of right now.” She turned back to Megan. “Such as what brought you to Beefland.”

Megan wrapped herself deep within her blanket. “I don’t suppose Beefland is inside the Rockies?”

“I’m afraid not,” Celestia said. “The nearest mountains are in the griffon lands. Several kilometers away.”

“Griffon lands?” Megan closed her eyes and shook her head. “You all have countries, too?”

Applejack scrunched her face up. “This is gettin’ weird.”

“It’s getting interesting,” Shard said. “We might be talking long-range teleportation here.”

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

Celestia tilted her head. “Perhaps we can talk about it over a nice, calm”—she pointed her horn at Andean—“polite dinner?”

Megan blushed. “Um, may I ask you something?”

Celestia nodded.

“May I have some clothes?” Megan clutched the edges of her blanket. “Please?”

All eyes turned to Mangle. He blushed as his ears drooped.

“President Mangle,” Celestia said, “was Megan wearing clothes when you found her?”

“Um…” Mangle shrugged. “Yeah? Kinda? They were kinda raggy and burnt up. The docs had to take them off to clean her up. I guess we were gonna give her something, but…” He grinned in an unconvincing manner. “Guess it slipped our minds.”

Celestia sighed. “Megan, how often would you say you wear clothes?”

“All the time?” Megan mumbled.

“Nudity taboo?”

“Nude what?”

“It’s where it’s socially unacceptable to not wear clothes.”

“Illegal, actually.”

“Really?”

“Certainly.”

Mangle twiddled his thumbs. “Sorry. Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Megan said carefully. “You… didn’t know, I suppose.”

“Shoulda brought Rarity on this trip,” Applejack said. “She always gets a kick out of designing around new body types.”

Care and Caution stood at attention beside the door as Celestia walked out. “Mangle,” the princess said, “would you mind making arrangements for a fitting?”

“Not at all, princess,” Mangle sighed. “No problem.”

Celestia looked back at Megan. “We’ll be locking the door, just as a precaution. To keep you safe.”

“Of course,” Megan said. She sat down and rubbed her knees. “Safe.”

Andean rose and beckoned his guards forward. “I suppose we’ll retire to prepare for the dinner.”

(3): In griffon culture, raw meat was for those who couldn't afford to have it cooked. The more charred a meal, the higher status the griffon obviously had. It was a rule that nobody could have a meal darker than the king's. Andean, it was said, preferred medium-well.

He scowled at Mangle. “We’ll be wanting that meat well cooked, President (3).”

“Sure, sure.” Mangle took a step back and swallowed. “Whatever you want.”

“Good.” Andean Ursagryph smiled at Celestia. “Good day, Princess.”

Once the griffons had walked away, everybody else breathed a sigh of relief.

“He’s got a way of gettin’ under yer skin, ah noticed,” Applejack said.

The zebra stallion spoke under his breath. “Do you refer to all of us, or just to your princess?”

Applejack scoffed. “Za’rapha, right?”

“Aye,” he said with a nod. “That name is mine.”

“Yeah.” Applejack leaned close. “Watch whatchya say ’bout the princess.”

Za’rapha squinted. “I mean no offence, please do not get tense.”

“Fine. Sorry.” Applejack shook her head. “An’ besides, ah meant me.”

As the leaders began to disperse, Applejack tapped Za’rapha on the shoulder. “By the way, why’s Andean got such a pain in the rear from you zebras?”

“Long ago he had a strange dream,” Za’rapha said. “He came to Zipporah and asked, ‘What does it mean?’”

Zipporah walked up to them, her knees creaking. She turned to Applejack with a frown. “He lives a life of anger and wrath. His death will be swift if he continues that path.” She placed a hoof on her chin. “His life will be ended, in the dream it was seen, by a frightened child whose heart is clean.”

“He found her prophesy not to his liking,” Za’rapha said. “I believe he found it more than a little frightening.”

“But I wouldn’t dare bring it up,” Aspen interrupted. He looked Applejack in the eye. “Leave it be. Trust me.”

Applejack turned her nose up. “What if it becomes important?”

Aspen saw Izod tipping over and sighed. “Leave it.” He raced over and caught the Lord of Lightninggale in the nick of time.

“In this case, Applejack,” Celestia said, “it may be best to take his advice.” She led Applejack forward with her wing. “I’ve been working on Andean for years, but he hasn’t budged.”

Shard’s eye hovered in the air, her scribble, scribble, scribble sounding off occasionally. Celestia smiled, lit her horn, and the orb vanished. “See you in a bit, Shardscale.”

Caution grinned. “Roight! Another foin day of not killin’ each other. Good start for the meetin’, it is, good start.”

Formal Attire * Nectar of the Gods

(*): Carousel Boutique had grown into quite the little empire. There were three branches: Canterlot, which was run by Rarity herself; Manehatten, which had Coco Pommel's expertise at the helm; and the original Ponyville branch, where Sweetie Belle was doing quite well for herself.

Applejack struggled into the dress Rarity had insisted on packing for her. It fit perfectly, of course, since Rarity’s skill at the craft had only grown since she moved to Canterlot (*). The problem came from Applejack’s chronic unfamiliarity with wearing finery. She just wasn’t interested in gussying up most of the time. Fancy dresses and applebucking just don’t mix.

By the same measure, old cowpony hats and fancy to-dos didn’t much mix either.

She grunted as the last remnants of rebellious fabric slid over her muscular frame. It was cute, she decided as she looked into a full-length mirror. Very cute. Kind of flashy, though.

Maybe it was the sequins that made it stand out.

She raised her eyes to Princess Celestia, who was adorning herself with the crown she had worn at Twilight Sparkle’s coronation. Celestia noticed Applejack looking at her and grinned. “It was a gift from Izod.”

“It’s almost as big as his,” Applejack said. She slid a flower—an apple blossom, to be precise—behind her ear. “Looks better on somepony with alicorn proportions.”

“That was almost a flattering compliment.” Celestia raised an eyebrow as she examined herself in a mirror. “I’d say it would have been, if not for the pony speaking it.”

Applejack’s lips parted. She frowned and turned to the ground. “Sorry.”

Celestia sat next to Applejack. She blew a breath through her lips. “I know Izod is exasperating, but we need to be the ones who know better.” She smiled. “We need to be willing to be the better mare.”

“An’ set a good example as fits our position?” Applejack snorted. “Eeyup. Can do, Princess. Just sit me on the opposite end of the table from Izod, an’ we’ll be peachy.”

“I expect you to be polite to everybody tonight,” Celestia said. “Including—especially—Izod and Andean. Even if they are not polite to you. Understood?”

Applejack felt her lips start to curl back of their own accord, but she forced herself to maintain a straight face. “Ah get it. Yer Majesty.”

Celestia’s eyebrows angled up. “Although, it wouldn’t hurt to sit you a few chairs down from them. It would keep the temptation at bay, at least.”

Applejack watched the princess’ eyes trail to somewhere on the far wall. She bowed her head. “Ah appreciate it.”

Celestia put a gold-shoed hoof on Applejack’s shoulder. “Applejack, the most brutally honest of ponies.” She grinned. “But also the most uncompromisingly dependable.”

Applejack slid a lock of her golden mane over her shoulder to hang beside her chest. It was slightly curled at the ends, bouncing as she stepped forward. “You think Megan’s doin’ alright?”

“I’m sure it’s hard,” Celestia said. She patted a little blush on her cheeks. “We must do our best to show her that we mean no harm.”

Applejack took a step back and looked herself up and down in the mirror. Not half-bad. She turned to Celestia. “You ready?”

Celestia nodded as she opened the door with a glimmer of magic. The two mares trotted down the Egg’s hallways, towards the dining room. Celestia’s transparent dress sparkled in the evening light from the windows, while Applejack’s silky dress shimmered against the torchlight.

“You’re being obtuse, breezie,” Applejack heard a sharp voice say from around a corner. “Why is this so hard to understand!?”

“Vhe can noot geeve soomting foor nooting,” Seabreeze said. Applejack imagined the High Pariah was crossing his skinny little forelegs. “Oonless there is soomting to trade, then vhe can noot trade.”

“You prancing little b—”

Celestia rounded the corner and came face-to-face with King Andean Ursagryff. His head jerked back and his eyes widened, though he was quick to cover it up with a level glare. Celestia’s gaze flickered between Andean and Seabreeze, a practiced, tiny smile on her face.

“Is there something wrong?” she asked.

Seabreeze’s mouth opened wide, but Andean beat him to the punch. “Nothing that the two of us are not capable of handling, Princess.”

Seabreeze shouldered his way past Andean, which by pony standards amounted to a butterfly trying to shoulder aside a bear. It was an admirable effort. “I think vhe are doone here.”

“No, we’re not,” Andean hissed. He narrowed his already quite-steely eyes. “We’ll just be completing our business in a more private area.”

Seabreeze tapped the side of his head. “Maybe when eyew get et through eyewr skull that eyew’re gooing to have to trade foor the ambrosia—”

“A private area!” Andean marched off, his neck feathers rustling and his wings twitching at his sides. “At a later date!”

Seabreeze, with all the refined poise afforded a High Pariah from Breezy Bastion, blew a raspberry at the retreating griffon.

Celestia kept her face stoic, though Applejack noticed the slight wrinkle beside her eyes. “Andean wants to open up trade with Breezy Bastion?”

Applejack brought her attention to the breezie, and nearly burst out with laughter. The small pony wore a perfectly-tailored, black tuxedo that hugged his form almost as tight as his traditional bodysuit. Gold buttons dotted the front and the cuffs, and he wore a ruffled silk bowtie around his neck.

And that red cummerbund around his waist was stinking adorable.

“Noo.” Seabreeze shook his head, his curly pink mane bouncing. “Noo, not with that attitude. Eef he doose noot want to trade what vhe want, then he can noot get what they want!”

Applejack bit back a sarcastic remark. She hadn’t actually thought of one yet, but she was sure it was forthcoming. “What does he wanna trade?”

“Ambrosia,” Celestia said. “The main export of Breezy Bastion.”

“The oonly export worth talking aboot.” Seabreeze snorted. “I told him we’d be glad to part with a few liters for a few tons of iron. He doosn’t seem to think that the healing of wounds is as important as keeping his metal central.”

Applejack watched with wide eyes as the breezie’s face grew purple. She felt the need to say something before the little guy popped like a hot potato. “Ah’m sure he’ll come around. Nopony wants to go without ambrosia fer long.”

“The griffons have gone without ambrosia since it was discovered,” Celestia said. She glanced to the hallway Andean had vanished into, then continued her walk to the dining room. “In any case, We’d best make our way to the others. I find myself very interested in what Megan has to say.”

Applejack found herself placed between Seabreeze and Zipporah, who were in the midst of a conversation that didn’t quite include her.

“I’m joost saying,” Seabreeze said, “that eyewr people could stand to benefit froom oopening trade with Breezy Bastion.”

Applejack mused that one of the High Pariah’s main duties was most likely shilling the local goods. The little breezie had been lugging around a small, twenty-ounce bottle of the glowing amber liquid known as ambrosia, and explaining—in depth—why it was awesome.

“Ambrosia sounds like the greatest of cures,” Zipporah said, “but I am unversed in how it works.”

Applejack kept her eyes focused on her empty plate as she waited for dinner to start. If she focused on the plate, she was less likely to roll her eyes at the two competing silly accents. She blinked, and thought that maybe it was best that she kept her mouth shut.

(1): Ambrosia was brewed by the breezies at Breezy Bastion. Ingredients included pollen and nectar from Equestria (which made up the bulk of their trade agreement), breezie magic, various vitamins and minerals, and incidentally, breezie spit.

“The magic inside the nectar increases the metabolism of the body’s cells,” Seabreeze explained. “and the nootrients in the meexture feed the cells. The two work together to jumpstart the healing of injuries and wounds.” (1)

(2): The Donkeys of Lightninggale were longstanding trade partners with Breezy Bastion, having done so almost as long as Equestria itself. Breezies made good use of the donkeys' silks and potatoes.

Applejack wished desperately for a hat to pull down over her eyes. As she had walked to her seat, she had heard the spiel told to the zebras sitting around her, to the minotaurs, and to herself in a moment of idle conversation (2). It was getting the slightest bit old.

As Zipporah spoke, her rhymes seemed to get that much more forced. “An exceptional brew, for diseases, too?”

Seabreeze pursed his lips. “Weeell… Bacterial diseases, eeyes. Eyew doon’t want to feed ambrosia to, foor instance, a cancer patient.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow and jumped at the first piece of new information in the last hour. “Why’s that?”

Seabreeze tapped his hooves together. “Exponential cellular growth. Same reason why et’s soo good for wounds.”

Applejack grimaced. “Ah can see how that might be a problem.”

She looked to the head of the table, where Megan would be sitting. Eventually. The rumor floating around the dining hall was that there were a few “technical difficulties” regarding the dress she was going to wear. Things like what constituted nudity, why sleeves existed, how low should the hemline be, etc.

A creaking sound from above signaled that the large, glass skylight was being opened. An angular, scaly head poked through, a smile on its lips. Shard draped herself across the top of the Egg and let her head and forelegs dangle into the dining room. “Did I miss anything?”

“Nothin’ that I’m sure won’t be repeated again. And again.” Applejack grinned at her own private joke. Nobody else did, but that’s why it was private.

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

“Eyew’d best keep eyewr distance,” Seabreeze grumbled. “Wouldn’t want to knock the table oover weeth a sneeze.”

Shard bared every single one of her teeth, causing most of the room to shiver. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Another chill flew through the room as Andean slammed a door open, nearly sending Zipporah’s companion Za’rapha flying. Two griffon soldiers followed close behind, bows strapped across their back and quivers of softly-glowing arrows belted to their sides. The griffon guards stood against the wall beside the pony guards, while Andean took a seat across from Izod.

Izod shrunk in his chair until only his eyes and his hat showed above the table. “Hi.”

Andean slid a talon into a bag that was tied around his waist. He pulled out his two smooth rocks and rolled them around in his grip. He then took a pebble in each hand, tossed them into the air, and watched as they came together with a resounding “clack!”

He turned to Celestia and grabbed the rocks as they fell. “When can we expect the honored guest to arrive?”

“Soon, I believe.” Celestia narrowed her eyes at the rocks. She raised an eyebrow as she turned her gaze to Andean’s eyes. “Feeling better?”

Andean smirked. “Slightly.” He looked across the table and pointed a talon at Seabreeze. “What of it, breezie? Have you reconsidered?”

“I can noot.” Seabreeze crossed his forelegs. He stood in front of his bottle of ambrosia, doing absolutely nothing to hide it from the griffon’s view. “Et would be impossible to joost geeve you the medicine. Vhe need a trade.”

Celestia leaned in. “If I may, a few tons of iron is a hill of beans compared to the ambrosia you could—”

“You may not,” Andean said. He peered at Zipporah out of the corner of his eye. “I believe I have had my fill of being told I am in the wrong.”

Celestia frowned. “I was not implying that—”

“On purpose?” Andean scowled. “Then consider your words before you speak them, Princess.” He linked his talons together and put his elbows on the table. “I would think a thousand years on the throne would have taught you a thing or two about that.”

“Hey!” Mangle stood up and pushed his chair back in a single motion. “Lay off.”

Andean rolled the smooth stones around in his talon. He grasped one between two toes and examined it. “Or what?”

“Or…” Mangle bit his lower lip. “Or else.”

Andean smiled a faux-friendly smile. “Let’s not kid ourselves, President. You know what will happen.”

The hair on Applejack’s neck stood up as she saw the griffon guards paw at their bows. A rattle of metal to the side indicated that Care and Caution were shifting their weight. Behind her chair, she could hear Aspen whispering to the single donkey guard. Minotaur muscles bulged.

“Mangle”—Celestia’s voice took a firm tone—“please take a seat.”

Mangle gave her a sidelong glance, nodded, and then settled himself down.

Seabreeze tightened his grip on his bottle. “Now… maybe vhe can coome to an agreement aboot the ambrosia. Maybe eyew have soomting vhe need that isn’t iron.”

He tapped his hooves together. “Though the iron vhood be very nice.”

Andean rolled his eyes. “Children,” he chuckled. “It is as I thought.” He leaned his foreleg on the table. “You are all nothing but children. Aren’t they, Celestia?”

Silence followed. Celestia said nothing, instead keeping her eyes and Andean’s locked together. She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the door opening.

Aida walked through, a satisfied smile on her face. She was followed closely by Megan, who wore a dress with ruffles that ran from her shoulders to her waist. A small, pink heart sat in the middle of her chest.

She looked just the slightest bit miserable. “Must I wear this?”

“Nope!” Aida said. “You can take it off at any time!”

Megan clutched at her stomach and pursed her lips together. “Maybe not.”

She sat at the head of the table, in plain view of the entire gathering. Shard’s faint scribble, scribble, scribble sounded out from the skylight. Megan’s eyes widened at the sight of the dragon. “Um”—she pointed—“is it safe?”

“Don’t mind me,” Shardscale said. “Just taking notes.”

Megan nodded. “Mm, hmm.” She tapped the tips of her fingers together. “You’ll have to forgive me, but you all look a little tense.”

Celestia sighed and pulled forth a smile with visible effort. “Please, Megan, tell us about yourself.”

“Of… course.” Megan’s face scrunched up as she pressed a hand to her stomach. “Well, my family is traveling across the country. There just weren’t many opportunities in the city anymore. You understand, right?”

“Perfectly. Cities can often grow beyond their own capacity,” Celestia said. “So you decided to start anew?”

“Well, my father and mother did.” Megan shifted in her seat. “I don’t think my brother much liked it.”

Applejack put a hoof on the table. “Ah know it ain’t easy to part with what yah know. Where yah headed?”

“To a new farm my father bought. In the frontier.” Megan’s face turned a light shade of green. “My mother thought we should wait until the railroad is finished, but father said that it would be years before they made it all the way to the west.”

Applejack’s mouth dropped open. She looked at Celestia in time to see her left ear twitch downward. “A railroad?” the princess asked.

“Yes. With trains and tracks and that sort of thing.”

A few waiters rolled out a cart full of a variety of foods, their eyes trained on the guards standing around the room. Applejack followed a particularly appetizing bowl of herbal soup as it rounded the table. As it passed before Za’rapha, she noticed the zebra slowly lowering his hoof into the bag slung across his shoulder.

Mangle popped a knuckle. “They’ve got to be pretty beefy trains to get over those mountains you were talking about.”

Megan’s brow furrowed. “A-actually, they’d go through them. I think.”

“Well, it’d still take some doing to get through the ranges,” Mangle said, “with all that up and down and stuff.”

“No, I mean through the mountains.” Megan’s eyes unfocused for a moment. She shook her head and did her best to smile. “We’d just blast through them. The whole track would be leveled out.” Her mouth twitched as a giant slab of ham was placed before her. “Most of it.”

Andean’s beak scrapped against itself with the sound of metal being sharpened. The steak of some unidentifiable animal was set on his plate. “Blast through? With what? Not magic, most assuredly.”

Megan was given a bunch of strawberries. “Gunpowder.”

Andean idly tapped a talon on the table. “I’m unfamiliar with that term.”

“It’s…” Megan lifted her fists. “It’s like a black powder that—that creates a big blast when you set it on fire.” Her fingers leaped outward to illustrate her point.

The griffon king leaned forward. “How big a blast?”

Celestia clapped a hoof on the table. “Andean.”

“How big a blast!?” Andean growled.

Megan shrunk into her seat and swallowed. Applejack lifted herself up and prepared to charge across the table if necessary.

“M-more gunpowder,” Megan stammered, “b-bigger blast.”

“Andean!” Celestia said. “If you will not treat our guest with respect, you will be removed! Do I make myself clear?”

Andean sat up. He turned slowly and gave Celestia a cool smile. “You do. Princess.” He looked back at Megan. “As does Megan. Hers is a species that would blow holes in mountains rather than lay a few thousand feet of track.” He grinned. “Did you hear!? They blow holes clean through mountains with powder! And they say our magic is witchcraft!”

“It’s not magic,” Megan whispered.

“No?” Andean stood up and began to walk along the table. Each diplomat that he passed felt a chill run down their spine. “Then enlighten us, darling Megan. What is this powder if not magic? Is it found or made? Is it easy to make, or does it require intense training? How expensive, how cheap?”

“Hey.” Mangle pushed his chair out and blocked Andean’s path. “Lay off.”

“Oh yes,” Andean said. He rose on his hind legs, towering over the minotaur. “We must be good little children, shouldn’t we?” He looked at Celestia and snorted. “Can’t do anything that would upset mommy, can we?”

He poked a talon in Mangle’s chest. “What’s wrong, brat? Waiting to see what mommy tells you to do?”

Mangle punched Andean in the jaw.

The huge griffon rolled as he hit the ground. He sprung up in a flash of feathers, his claws stretching out to rake across Mangle’s face. The griffon guards pulled their bows out and strung up arrows. Now that she got a good look at them, Applejack recognized them as ice arrows, like those used in the Equestrian games.

The ones that could freeze a target on impact. It was instant frostbite.

Care’s horn glowed as she cast a fireball and shot it at the griffons. Caution raced towards Applejack with the intent of shielding her with his body. The donkey guard lifted his spear, a panicked expression on his muzzle. The minotaurs alternately raced to help Mangle, or raced for the griffons. Aspen grabbed Izod and dragged him beneath the table. The griffons let the ice arrows loose.

It was then that everything stopped.

The arrows were encased in an amber glow. They melted long before they reached across the room.

Care’s fireball was dissipated into thin air the moment it launched.

Andean and Mangle glowed golden as they were dragged apart.

Caution and the minotaurs collided with a shimmering shield that surrounded the table. The donkey guard’s spear bounced harmlessly off.

Shardscale’s pen went scribble, scribble, scribble.

Celestia rose above the table, her wings spread and her horn glowing. “That. Is. Enough.”

Applejack’s eyes widened as Celestia moved everyone back to either their seats or their posts. The Princess of the Day glowered at each and every person individually. “I refuse to allow any wars to start today. I refuse!”

Andean struggled to remove Celestia’s telekinetic grip from his body. “You think you can just—”

“I most certainly can.” Celestia pointed a hoof down the table. “We are here to observe a most important scientific discovery. Not”—she turned to Seabreeze—“to sell products”—she glared at Izod—“to stroke egos”—she settled down in front of Andean—“or to further selfish political goals!”

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

“Now, may we return to our nice dinner with Megan?” She looked at the Sapience with a nod. “I believe you were telling us about your nice railroad system?”

Megan didn’t say anything for a moment. Her eyes crossed as she clutched at her stomach. “I don’t feel so good.”

She vomited on the table, then dropped from her seat to the floor.

Taking Care * Talking Care * Timing, Care

Contrary to popular belief, Applejack relished a bit of nonsense every now and then. One needed to look no further than how she treated her trees during transplanting to see how far she could descend into silliness. However, if one was only paying half-attention, they would see nothing more than a mare who was all about business.

“Get outta the way!”

A mare who would suffer no fools, as it often appeared.

Such a time saw Applejack rushing under, over, around, and quite-nearly through bodies in her hurry to reach Megan’s side. The entire room had fallen silent after the Sapience had fallen from her seat, before Applejack was jolted into action. She crouched beside the shivering girl and held one of her hands in her hooves.

“You okay? Are yah okay, Megan? How many hooves am ah holdin’ up?”

Megan blinked. She lifted a sleeve to her face to wipe away the sick. “One?”

“Okay, you got it.” Applejack ran a soothing hoof over Megan’s hand. “Do you still feel nauseous?”

Megan nodded, her strange, flat face scrunching up.

“Zipporah!” Applejack yelped. “You got any freaky zebra herbs that sooth a stomach?”

Zipporah bared her teeth in a small, miniscule snarl at Applejack’s minor insult. It was not lost on the earth pony. “Za’rapha, move. Go forth and sooth.”

The zebra stallion nodded to his elder. He trotted up to Applejack and produced a small pouch from his bag.

“Wait.”

All eyes turned to Seabreeze. The High Pariah of Breezy Bastion hovered over the puke on the table and examined it closely. From the way his tiny, blue cheeks bulged, he was doing his best to hold his breath. He gained a little altitude, exhaled with a gasp, and looked over to Megan. “Have eyew eaten anything that tasted funny?”

Megan groaned from her place on the floor. “Just that weird magic soup.”

“That’s what I thought.” The breezie fluttered closer to the girl. “Now, do eyew have any sort of tingly feeling in eyewr stomach? Like leetle lightning bolts?”

Megan shut her eyes and pressed her lips together. “Yes. I’ve… It won’t stop.”

Seabreeze ground his tiny white teeth together. “Her body is rejecting the potion.”

Za’rapha dropped the herbs back into his bag. “Where have you learned such skill? You don’t strike me as one who cares for the ill.”

“Quit rhyming.” Seabreeze removed his tuxedo coat and hung it on a chair. He rolled up the sleeves on his white shirt and stood before Megan. “I’m a breezie. Healing is oor mandate.”

He opened one of Megan’s eyes and glared into it. Applejack resisted the urge to bat his hoof away. “They doon’t let eyew make medicine for the whole world oonless eyew know a thing oor two aboot healing.”

He pulled a face at King Andean. “Present company excepted, oof course.”

Andean shoved his seat aside. “You little yahoo—!”

“Andean,” Celestia said, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Andean’s talons dug trenches in the wood floor; Mangle buried his face in his hands. “You have to, eh?” the griffon said. “You’re asking me?”

Izod jolted upright. “What did he just call me?”

Andean sneered. “I said ‘asking.’ ‘Asking!’”

Izod held his hat steady in his hooves as he rose out of his seat. Aspen the Alliterative placed a hoof on his shoulder.

“I believe he was merely raising an inquiry, sir.”

Izod blinked. “Oh.”

Celestia looked over at the donkeys, glared with the intensity of a sunrise, and held a hoof to her lips.

“I’m asking you now.” Celestia’s horn glowed. “This is a delicate situation, and there are several of you that should not be in the same room together. Not right now.”

Andean rolled the smooth stones around in his fist. “And if I say ‘no’?”

“Then I won’t be asking you anymore.” Celestia opened the door with her magic. “Go.”

Andean snarled as he barged out of the room. He lifted a talon, and his two guards followed close behind.

The princess walked closer to Megan, but took care not to get too close. “How is she?”

“She shood be fine, once she’s barfed the rest of the potion oot.” Seabreeze stuck his hooves between Megan’s lips and opened her mouth wide. “The potion moost have been bad foor this violent a rejection.”

“Hold your snakelike, venomous tongue,” Za’rapha said. “If there is any zebra skilled with brews, Zipporah is the one.”

Seabreeze let Megan’s mouth close. He looked over his shoulder at the zebra with lidded eyes. “Eyew’re a doofus.”

Za’rapha strode forward with a grimace. He got his face close to the breezie and snorted. Seabreeze tumbled head over hooves as the breath caught his wings.

Izod’s eyes widened. He lifted a hoof upward, causing his hat to unbalance. “So that’s why you don’t exhale on a breezie!”

“Oh, shut up!” Seabreeze stuck his tongue out at Izod. He glared at Za’rapha and pointed at Megan. “In case eyew haven’t nooticed, the Sapience is sick. Because of eyewr zebra potion! Foorgive me eef I take that to et’s logical conclusion!”

“Zipporah has brewed a thousand before,” Za’rapha said, “and later shall brew a thousand more! There’s no skill slippage, despite your wish, so be careful that you don’t get sq—”

“Quiet, servant.” Zipporah held up a leg that was covered in gold bracelets. “Hold. Be observant.”

She walked up to the puke stain and glowered at it. Applejack noticed the oily sheen the digestive reject had in the torchlight. “The brew was cooked to perfection, a shining example of zebra confection. It did its work in the Sapience’s mind, so something’s amiss that inside we’ll find.”

“Moost eyew rhyme?” Seabreeze poked Megan in the belly, prompting a gag that he swiftly avoided. Megan was able to hold it in. “Eyew’re geeving me a headache.”

“Perhaps you wouldn’t butcher the language,” Za’rapha said, “if you drank our brew and saved our ears damage.”

“I speak perfectly!” Seabreeze looked inside Megan’s ears. “And stoop rhyming!”

“Would everybody shut up and tell me what’s wrong with her?” Applejack shouted.

Seabreeze crossed his forelegs. “Should we doo both at the same time, eyewr Lordship?”

Applejack tripped over her own tongue. She shook her head and grimaced. “Funny. What’s the matter? If’n it’s not bad potions, what is it?”

Celestia cleared her throat. “It’s possible, if unlikely, that the Sapience is a species that can’t have close contact with magic. It’s possible that it hurts her.”

Aspen lifted his nose into the air a couple of inches. “Preposterous.”

(*): Other magically-irregular species: The breezies were able to channel pegasus magic, but unable to generate it themselves (their personal magic, as mentioned before, was more geared toward the healing power of spit). The diamond dogs channeled rock-shattering earth magic through their gemstone-studded collars and vests (the larger the gems, the stronger the dogs). The sea serpents lacked the dragons’ fire, but kept most of the magic resistance (mustaches notwithstanding).

“Changelings get sick if they are exposed to any emotional magic besides Love.” Celestia ruffled her wings. “Dragons are immune to most magicks through sheer durability, save for a few transmogrifications spells (*).”

Shardscale rolled her eyes. “Stupid mustaches.”

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

“The point is that there is precedence for magic affecting certain species differently than others.” Celestia clasped her hooves together. “We would require tests to be sure. Tests that will not be preformed. Do I make myself clear on that?”

Everyone in the room nodded.

“For the time being…” Celestia bent down close to Megan. “I’m sorry that we brought this upon you. We shall try to answer any questions you have before the potion’s effects wear off.”

Applejack patted Megan’s hand. “What do yah need to say, Sugarcube?”

Megan clutched her stomach. She sniffed as tears formed in her eyes. “I want Momma. I wanna go home.”

Seabreeze fluttered up to grab his jacket. “Oh, shoor. Maybe we could bring the Sapience back if she would tell us where in the heck she lived.”

“I wanna go home.” Megan balled her fists up. “Why did we have to cross the mountains in a rickety old wagon?” She sobbed. “Why did we have to leave? I wanna go home!”

Aspen bit his lip and took a few steps back. “Perhaps the Sapience is a little unstable.”

Applejack stomped a hoof. Hard. The clomp echoed around the room a few times.

She glared. “Her name is Megan. Y’hear?”

Aspen’s lips twitched.

Applejack looked at Seabreeze, Za’rapha, and Zipporah. “An’ she’s just a kid. Don’t you get it? She’s scared. Don’t you see that!?”

Izod shuffled his hooves. “Maybe we should move her someplace quiet.”

Applejack lifted a hoof. “Best suggestion ah’ve heard all day!”

She sat down next to Megan. “Don’tcha worry, Sugarcube. We’ll get yah a nice, soft bed tah lay in. We’ll let yah sleep off that potion.”

Megan wiped her eyes. She tried to sit up, but quickly lay back down with a gurgle.

Applejack looked over at Care and Caution. “Help her get up on mah back.”

Care took an immediate step forward. She paused and glanced at Celestia, who nodded. She took Megan in a gentle telekinetic grip and lifted her on to Applejack. “Are you comfortable, Megan?”

Megan wrapped her arms around Applejack’s neck. “Thank you, Miss…”

“Care, Royal Guardspony.” Care smiled. “You’re in good hooves, kid.”

Megan sniffed. “And… Applejack. Thank you, Applejack.”

“No prob’.” Applejack craned her neck around the table. Mangle was hunched over at the far side. “Hay, Prez. Wanna take us to a good room?”

Mangle had his horned head resting in his hands. He looked up from beneath his brow. He slapped his hands on the table and stood. “Sure thing. I know a real beefy spot on the other side of the Egg.”

Celestia leaned close to him as he passed her by. “Mangle, is something wrong?”

“Yeah.” He snorted. “If you call almost getting everybody killed something wrong. I know I do.”

Celestia jerked her head back. “Now just a—”

“Don’t worry about it.” He waved a hand at Applejack. “Follow me.”

Seabreeze hovered over to his bottle of ambrosia, grasped it with all four hooves, and lifted it into the air. “Soom gathering of the minds this turned out to be.”

The procession continued in quiet. Izod and Aspen excused themselves to return to their rooms. The zebras retreated to their hallway in the Egg. Seabreeze threw a quick salute and disappeared down a side corridor. Celestia, Mangle, Applejack, and their guards found themselves before a large door with hulking minotaur guards flanking it.

“Personal chambers right here.” Mangle patted the door. “Got the beefiest bed in Beefland, I hear. Haven’t been proven wrong, yet.” He turned the handle.

His eye shot wide open. He slid through the cracked-open door with a sheepish grin. “Um. Just gotta do a little, uh, cleaning up, first.”

He closed the door, leaving the ponies and Megan waiting outside.

(1): This needs no explanation.

Celestia whispered in Applejack’s ear, “Moving his Cowcubines to another room (1).”

“Now ain’t really the time for jokes, Princess.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

“That had better be a joke.”

“I swear I’m not.”

Applejack’s face turned beet-red. “Ah have just about had it with this crazy country.” She looked at the minotaur guards standing around her. “No offence intended. Sorry.”

They shrugged nearly in concert. “None taken,” one replied.

Mangle opened the door a few minutes later. He ushered them in and pointed to an enormous bed on the far side of the room. “Just had to make the bed.”

“Right,” Applejack said. She brushed past the minotaur president and through the room. The mattress looked like it was only slightly less fluffy than a cloud-mattress. The comforter looked like it was four stakes and a wooden pole away from being a sixteen-person tent. The pillows looked like they could serve as comfortable houses for breezie officials.

It was pretty nice, yeah.

Care’s horn flared again. She set Megan down on the edge of the bed. The girl reached out her hand to lay in on Applejack’s snout. She smiled, sniffed, and then lay back on the bed.

Applejack pulled the covers over Megan. She looked up at Celestia.

“We will do our best to find your home, Megan,” Celestia said. “I will do everything in my power.”

Megan winced as a wave of nausea washed over her. “That’s a lot of power, isn’t it?”

“You just hold tight,” Mangle said. “When Celestia makes a promise, she sticks to it.”

With that said, they left the room quietly.

Applejack sat with her back against the wall. Some distance down the hall, Mangle and Celestia were in the midst of an animated discussion. The Lord Mayor of Ponyville had long since given up on trying to eavesdrop.

Caution stood behind and to the left of Celestia, his eyes drifting along the halls in a lazy search pattern. Care’s eyes met his, an unspoken conversation zipped between them, and then she broke off from her position beside Celestia and walked over to Applejack’s side.

“Howdy?” Applejack said.

“Can’t leave a Very Important Pony unguarded.” Care rolled her white-coated shoulders as she took up a straight-backed stance. “Even if they’re all of ten meters away.”

“’Preciate it.” Applejack tried to smooth down her wrinkled dress. Seeing no progress, she decided to pretend the wrinkles were part of her look. “Ah think ah’m just about done with excitement for the night, how ’bout you?”

“I wouldn’t mind a calm night.” Care shrugged. “I’ll be ready if it isn’t, though.”

“Never doubted that.” Applejack blew a breath through her lips and leaned her head on the wall.

Care shifted her weight between her left and right legs. “I was really impressed with the way you handled Megan’s, um, problem. You’ve got some great instincts.”

Applejack smiled. “Thanks. Ah learned from the best.” Her smiled faltered for a second, but was brought back in the next instant. “Ah was kinda a momma’s girl, growin’ up.”

Care turned her head in a smooth arc as she watched the halls. “She must be very proud of you.”

Applejack found herself examining the opposite wall very closely. “Ah like tah think so.”

She shook her head. “But that’s that. What about you? Rodeo racer, guardspony to the princess… is there anything you don’t do?”

Care grinned. “I can’t play an instrument to save my life.”

Celestia felt the corner of her mouth slide upward as she listened to Applejack and Care laughing.

Applejack stood. “So where’re you from? How’d you get to be in the Guard?”

“I’m from Manehatten. I was gonna be a carrot farmer.” Care undid the clasp on her chinstrap and pulled her helmet off. Her coat shifted from white to a redder orange than Applejack’s, and her mane changed from blonde to turquoise streaked with blue. A cutie mark appeared on her flank: Three carrots with their greens intertwined. “I joined the Guard to pay my respects. Do a tour of duty. It turned out I was really good at it.”

(2): Blueblood had nothing to do with designing the coloration for the guard. It was a longstanding tradition dating back to the Pre-Celestian Era. Blueblood just liked to think it was about him.

Care replaced the helmet, and her colors shifted back to the white and blonde of the guard (2). “Like protecting the princess kind of good.” She tilted her head. “So now I’ve got just about the best job in the world. Besides all the traveling I get to do, it just feels right.” She nodded. “Like I’m making a difference.”

She flicked her tail. “And when I eventually retire, I’ve got a carrot farm waiting for me.”

“Ah’ll have tah stop by an’ get mahself a bushel. Sounds like that’s a long time comin’, though,” Applejack said.

“I like to think so, your Lordship.”

Applejack scowled. “Come on, now. How’re we supposed to be friends if you can’t even call me by mah first name? Call me Applejack.”

Care stood at attention. “Yes, ma’am, Applejack, your Lordship.”

Celestia grinned as snorting laughter came from the two mares. Mangle cleared his throat, killing Celestia’s brief good humor. “So were you serious about getting her home?” he asked.

“Of course,” Celestia said. “We can’t keep the poor girl locked up in the Egg like a prisoner. She needs her family.”

“And what then?” Mangle popped his knuckle. “Will her people take kindly to a bunch of strange creatures walking around with their kid?”

“Even with the language barrier,” Celestia said, “it should only take a few moments to explain our position—”

“She thought we were animals, Celestia!” Mangle yelped. He held his hands out as if balancing a scale. “What—what sort of society does she live in where we’re animals? Have they ever met creatures that didn’t look like them? What then?”

He popped three more knuckles to accentuate his words. “What about the breezies? You were there. How did they react to meeting ponies for the first time?”

Celestia grimaced. “They tied Luna up and stapled her to the ground. It took a little convincing to tell them that we weren’t angry giants out to eat all their crops.”

“That’s what I’m saying.” Mangle pointed at the room where Megan lay. “These guys aren’t tiny little fairy ponies. They can blow holes in mountains. This would be like meeting the griffons for the first time. Or maybe the minotaurs.”

Celestia closed her eyes. “Both of which were handled successfully enough.”

“Yeah, but there’s so many other things going on.” Mangle took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It wouldn’t just be meeting the ponies for the first time. They’d be meeting all of us.” He shook his head slightly. “We can’t even handle ourselves.”

“We can’t put this off indefinitely.”

“But we can do something just as good,” Mangle said. “We could find out where her place is and slip her in unnoticed. We could swear her to secrecy or something so she doesn’t talk.”

“We are not going to hide, President Mangle.”

“We can’t just keep our distance either?”

“Not for the reasons you’re thinking.” Celestia leaned in close. “We can’t live in fear. That’ll only make you sick. It wouldn’t help anybody.”

Mangle crossed his arms. “I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to like it.” Celestia sighed. “I just want you to understand why it’s the right thing to do.”

“I do.” Mangle pursed his lips. “I do.”

Celestia looked away. She nodded, and then turned to Applejack to say that they would retire for the night.

“Aaahh!!”

All head turned to the high-pitched squeal. Crisperfall was flittering through the hallways, his eyes and mouth wide open. He tried to correct his course, failed, and tumbled into Applejack. She caught him in her forelegs and held him gently. “Whoa, pardner. What’s all the fuss?”

“P-papa!” He screeched something in his native breezie language. “Papa!”

Celestia hurried over. She sent a small spell to rub soothingly over Crisperfall’s back. “What’s wrong with your papa, Crisperfall? What happened to Seabreeze?”

Crisperfall’s lips trembled. “Papa! Papa’s been squished!”

They found Seabreeze lying in the middle of the hallway. His wife, Dandelion, was cradling his head in her lap and weeping. His wings were bent out of shape, folded in half or twisted around. His mane, normally bouncy and spritely, was hanging loose about his shoulders. His legs were curled up against his torso.

His chest rose and fell with tiny movements.

Celestia knelt beside them, her face massive compared to the two small ponies. “Good heavens,” she breathed

Applejack stood a couple of meters away, Crisperfall curled up on her back. “How bad?”

“I… I don’t know.” Celestia twisted her lips as she attempted to pronounce a few words in the breezie tongue.

Dandelion sobbed a response.

Celestia bit her lip. “The ambrosia is missing. Someone stole it.”

“What!?” Mangle clenched his hands into tight fists. “So… so we can’t heal him?”

“That’s not what I said.” Celestia straightened up to speak with the minotaur. “He can heal. It’ll just be a little slower.” She sucked in a breath and whispered, “I hope.”

Care took a step forward. “Come on, Caution. Let’s get him to the infirmary.”

Mangle pointed at one of his guards. “Crumplezone, show them the way.”

Care took Seabreeze in her telekinesis and deposited him on Caution’s back. The three guards trotted away at an even pace. Dandelion followed close behind with Crisperfall in her forelegs.

Mangle’s chest grew tight. “Not in my house. Not in my house!” He spun on Celestia. “Who could have done something like this!? Who would do such a thing!?”

Celestia remained silent, her face stony.

Applejack gritted her teeth. She ground them together before she spoke. “Ah think ah can guess.”

Celestia squinted. “I don’t like snap decisions. But we have to move quickly.” She nodded down the hallway. “To the griffons’ quarters.”

They marched at double-time, and soon came to the assigned room. A single griffon guard sat outside, gently tapping a talon against the wood floor. He started as the two ponies and three minotaurs came into view. “If you are looking for the king—”

“We are,” Celestia said. “Let us pass.”

The guard shrunk back. “Ah… He is not here.”

Celestia flicked her horn. The griffon guard tumbled aside as the doorway behind him slammed open. “Andean!? Andean!”

Celestia looked around an empty room. “He isn’t here. Where were you going to say he was?”

The griffon guard rubbed his neck. “He is in the garden. He is taking his evening walk.”

Celestia rushed into the midst of the party. Her horn glowed until it shone white. “Everyone, hold still.”

The world exploded around Applejack before vanishing away. She felt as though she was falling out of control. The ground touched her feet, though for a brief moment it felt as though it was the ceiling. She got a hold of her balance in a couple of seconds, but until then she was tottering like a foal.

“Oh, bless you, Celestia!” Izod said. He blinked, steadied his hat, and then looked to the griffon beside him. “I mean, oh joy! More people to partake in our conversation. Maybe you don’t need me to speak with you anymore.”

Andean glared down at the donkey. “I wouldn’t say that.” He smirked at Celestia. “What’s the rush, Princess? I don’t usually see you teleport.”

“I do it when I have little other choice.” Celestia spread her wings and raised her head high. “Andean, you are under arrest for the attempted murder of Seabreeze.”

Izod yelped and cantered away from the griffon king. Andean gave Celestia a blank stare.

“On whose authority?”

“Mine,” Mangle said. “My country, my rules.”

Andean Ursagryph laughed uproariously. It came from deep within his belly, much like a lion’s roar. “You can’t be serious!”

Golden, magic chains looped around the king’s legs. “I am deathly serious. You had the motive, the means, and the opportunity.”

Andean looked at the chains. An incredulous grin spread across his beak. “Celestia, allow me to educate you on something…

“If it was I who attacked the bug,” he snarled, “it would not be an ‘attempt’ you were arresting me for. I would have made sure the deed was done!”

“Yeah,” Applejack snorted. “Amazin’ defense. Save it for the tribunal.”

Andean Ursagryph shot Applejack a look that could melt iron. “And you can save your self-righteousness.”

“Wait! Wait!”

Wind stirred the cedar trees. Shardscale descended from her perch on the roof of the Egg. “Wait! When did this happen?”

Celestia frowned. “Between when the rest of us left dinner and a few minutes ago. Why?”

Shard blew a flame, which was soon transmogrified into a scroll. “He’s been in the garden since you made him leave. He’s been talking with Izod since the rest of you cleared out. I’ve got it all recorded here.” She held the scroll up. “He can’t have been the one to hurt Seabreeze!”

What Mines the Hills * Whodunit * Uhpplejock

Celestia stared at Shardscale.

Applejack had never seen her princess speechless before. It was an odd experience to see the immortal, supremely long-lived alicorn with her jaw hanging open. Something flashed in Celestia’s eyes, something like confusion, or anger...

Or maybe fear. It was hard to tell. Celestia was not one to get “gob smacked” regularly.

The golden chains around Andean’s legs glittered and vanished. “I’m sorry,” Celestia said. Her eyes flickered between his talons and her hooves. “I’m sorry.”

Applejack couldn’t tear her eyes away from the princess. “Y-y’ okay?”

“Yes,” Celestia said after taking a breath. She looked up at Shardscale. “Thank you.”

“Sure,” said the dragon’s incongruously deep voice. “So… whodunit?”

“What an excellent question,” Andean said. He sat up and tapped his talons together. “What sort of suspects do we have?”

Applejack was jolted out of her astonishment by his words. She turned to his face and watched as a slow, deliberate smirk overtook his beak. “It couldn’t possibly be the all-perfect princess,” he said, “could it?”

Applejack felt her blood boil. She opened her mouth, but was beaten to the punch by Mangle. “No, it couldn’t!”

The President of Beefland raised his chin. “She, me, Applejack, and Megan were all together when it happened. We’ve got an alibi, the same as you.”

Andean tilted his head in a slight nod. “Very well. That only leaves… let’s see… the zebras and your entire staff as suspects.”

Mangle shuffled a hoof. “Yeah?”

Andean leaned forward. “I would start narrowing down the suspects, if I were you.”

“Precisely.” Celestia started to walk towards the Egg. “Mangle, gather together some people you trust. Shard, please stand by to take notes.”

Andean stood and followed her. “Perhaps you should employ a few griffon interrogation techniques.”

Celestia spun. She flared her wings out as she faced the griffon king. “I think you should stay out here. Enjoy the night. Look at the stars.” Her cheek twitched. “Think about dreams.”

Andean spread his wings until they spanned three times the length of Celestia’s. They still weren’t fully unfurled. He gave her a level stare. “Truly?”

“I insist,” Celestia replied. She looked at Applejack. “Would you keep Andean and Izod company?”

Applejack took a few steps back. “Actually, Yer Highness, ah’d—”

“I’ll send Care out as soon as I find her.” Celestia headed for the Egg with Mangle in tow. “Thank you, Applejack.”

Applejack desperately missed her hat as she sat down in the garden. She sat with her back to the two others, not especially enjoying the concept of being stuck with them. She decided not to look at Izod as the donkey sat beside her.

Izod brayed under his breath. “I hate it when she does that.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Asks you if you want to do something without really asking you.” Izod touched his hat, delicately nudging it upright. “It makes me feel small.”

Applejack frowned at the donkey. “Ah know she don’t mean it like that.”

“Doesn’t she?” Andean said. He lumbered around them to gaze at a hedge. “Surely you can see the degree of control she holds.”

Applejack snorted. “She’s a thousand years old. Oldest and wisest pony ah know of. Of course we all take her advice.”

“She doesn’t give advice!” Andean growled. “She gives orders!”

The hair on Applejack’s neck stood up. She stumbled to her feet and backpedaled away from Ursagryph. “Now— Now hold up.”

“These foals are afraid to do anything without her say-so, you know.” Andean sneered. “It is not Mangle who rules Beefland, or Izod who rules Lightninggale. It is she.”

Applejack squared her hooves. “Okay. Wow. You are so full o’ hooey.”

“It is not out of respect, either.” Andean pointed a claw at the sky. “It is out of fear.”

She gave him a dim scowl. He walked closer. “Tell me, Lord Mayor, what would happen if any of us opposed her?”

“Depends on what sort of opposin’ you did, ah guess.” Applejack brushed her mane behind her shoulder. “Are yah just thinkin’ of disagreein’ with her choice in policies?” Her eyes narrowed. “Or are yah thinkin’ of hurtin’ her people?”

Andean ignored her. “The result would be overwhelming resistance from everyone she keeps under her thumb. They have practically worshiped her from the day they took office, all of them!”

Applejack noted that Izod was hiding himself behind the shrubbery. “All ’cept you, huh?” she said.

“The point is that no one is willing to go against her in anything.” Andean lowered his eyebrows. “She, in essence, rules the world.”

“An’ what an awful thing it must be to have such a despotic tyrant as her, ah’m sure.” Applejack shrugged. “Ah don’t get what yer beef is. She’s never taken control o’ nothin’.”

“She tried to arrest me!” Andean shouted. “She tried to arrest me! On foreign soil! With no evidence aside from her own feelings!

“She destroyed our way of life!” He made a fist as his voice rose. “I am old, old enough to remember. There was a time when the griffons ruled the eastern continent. We would fight. We would win. It was a time of glory and building. We would mine the hills for sandstone and erect great monuments to our kings. Visiting dignitaries would pay tribute in exchange for security. We were the superpower!”

He grew quiet. “Now we can no longer fight. We cannot continue the glorious griffon conquest. We mine iron for tools, not sandstone for monuments. We squabble amongst ourselves for lack of a unifying foe. We lack conflict.” He looked at Applejack with downcast eyes. “We lack conflict, and have grown stagnate.”

He pointed a talon at Applejack. “Your princess forbids conflict. And without conflict, there can be no growth.”

“Am ah supposed to feel sorry for yah?” Applejack shook her head. “You know, ah never had any of mah friendships get stronger because we were fightin’.”

Andean tilted his head. “What does that have to do with—”

“In fact, while we were fightin’ ah’d liked nothin’ more than to throw some of ’em out on their rears.” Applejack rolled her eyes. “One petty thing after another with those girls.”

Applejack smirked. “But’cha know what? We got stronger. We all did. Know how?”

Andean Ursagryph scratched the side of his head.

“Growth don’t come from conflicts,” Applejack said. “Growth comes from resolvin’ ’em.”

Andean leaned closer. His breath grew hot on Applejack’s face. It smelled like something was rotting. “Well, we all have a lot of unresolved conflict, don’t we?”

“Ah can think of one or two big’uns,” Applejack choked.

“I’m sure.” Andean straightened up. “Oh look. The nursemaid Celestia chose to accompany us.”

Applejack turned to see Care trotting up in full ceremonial armor. The guard gave a brief bow. “You’ll want to follow me.”

Izod poked his head through a bush he had set his hat beside. “Why?”

“Because, believe it or not,” Care said, “we’ve actually managed to narrow it down.”

They gathered in the kitchens. Celestia stood beside a particular counter, one that held a familiar bottle.

Andean lifted an eyebrow. “The ambrosia.”

Applejack looked closely at the medicine. The bottle was half-full. “It was filled to the top, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” Mangle said. “Which makes me think whoever hurt Seabreeze did it for the ambrosia. And it was somebody with access to the kitchens.”

Caution and the two griffon guards ushered Zipporah, Za’rapha, and Aspen into the kitchen. Izod marched up to his advisor and hissed in his ear.

It being Izod, it was loud enough for the whole room to hear. “Where in the heck have you been!?”

Aspen sighed. “I was putting together a plate of food. For your supper. I, unfortunately, have no alibi.”

(*): Servant-only areas were fairly standard across all allied countries. It was tradition. There were a great deal of things that dignitaries and other “important” people needn’t concern themselves with, such as cooking or housekeeping. It made poison-detecting unicorns very popular in some social circles, since most had next to no idea who was cooking what.

Celestia was about a century away from breaking down the door to the kitchen and fixing herself her own peanut-butter and jelly sandwich. This, too, was tradition.

Zipporah flicked an ear. “Za’rapha was curious about the local cuisine. Though I’m not welcome in here, servants would have been.”(*)

“Please,” Andean grumbled, “out of respect for the fallen breezie, at least try and make your rhymes tolerable.”

“Go ahead,” Zipporah said, “and keep acting mean. I, at least, remember your dream.”

“Son of a—!” Andean raised a talon, but his arm was caught in a golden glow.

“No,” Celestia said.

“—Gun,” Andean finished. He shook his leg before setting it down.

Celestia looked over the small crowd. “Whoever did it had to have access to the kitchens. That narrows it down to those who have been in here since the end of supper.” She glanced around. “All the chefs and waiters are accounted for, which leaves you.”

Aspen shifted. Za’rapha swallowed.

Celestia blinked. “Where is Aida?”

Mangle popped a knuckle. “She’s in my quarters. She’s had a rough night.”

Celestia’s eyes narrowed a bit. “I can’t ask her questions if she’s not here, can I?”

Mangle popped another knuckle, then a few more. “No, you can’t.”

Celestia closed her eyes, took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “President Mangle, I need to speak with your aide.”

“It can wait,” Mangle said. “You can talk with her later.”

Celestia might have sucked on her lip, but the expression was gone before it could completely register in Applejack’s mind.

“I can talk with her now,” the princess said.

“No,” Mangle said. “You can’t.”

The two rulers held a staring contest. Neither backed down for a long moment. Celestia’s shoulders sagged as she turned to Za’rapha and Aspen. “Explain what you were doing in the kitchen.”

Aspen tilted his head to the opposite counter. “I was putting together a plate of food. For Lord Izod. He missed supper, you know.” He grimaced. “We all did.”

“I was examining the production of food, like that cheese wheel.” Za’rapha scuffed his hoof on the ground. “You never know if another’s food could heal.”

Andean rubbed his eyes. “I will rip his tongue out. I swear it.”

“Hush.” Celestia sighed through her nose. “I’m lead to assume that whoever hurt Seabreeze might have needed the ambrosia. I fear assumptions will do little to help us, but I must assuage fears. Do either of you have illnesses the ambrosia might heal?”

Aspen looked like he had something stuck in his throat. “Fit as a fiddle.”

“I too, am well,” Za’rapha flexed a foreleg. “As if my body was not able to tell.”

“Maybe you could give two-word answers,” Applejack muttered.

“Why would Aspen steal ambrosia, anyway?” Izod said. Loudly. “We have plenty of it back home.”

Aspen nodded mutely.

“The zebras don’t trade with the breezies, yet.” Mangle said. “Maybe Za’rapha wanted it to learn the formula or something.”

“Stop that.” Celestia trotted up to Mangle and poked him in the chest. “I’ll not have pointless speculations thrown around like candy. You’re just going to obscure the facts.”

Mangle scowled. “I’m not obscuring the facts.”

“Aren’t you?” Andean said. He craned his long neck and looked at the minotaur out of one eye. “You are, after all, withholding a suspect.”

“I’m not withholding Aida; I’m giving her a chance to calm down!”

“Enough!” Celestia snapped. She glared at the minotaur and the griffon until they backed away from each other.

“Za’rapha,” the princess said, “please tell us exactly what you did following Megan’s illness at dinner.”

Izod blinked rapidly. He leaned to Aspen. “Since when are dinner and supper the same thing?”

“Shh!” Celestia waved him off with a hoof. “Please, Za’rapha.”

The zebra set his bag to the side. “I walked to where they prepared the food, keeping to the sides so that I wasn’t rude. After, I accompanied Judge Zipporah to her room, and came to mine nearly as soon.”

Andean let a growl build up in his throat. “Here we go. Brace your ears.”

“There I meditated for about an hour”—he picked a small vial out of his bag—“memorizing potions of incredible power. Then I set about my storytelling ways, in the production of arcade games.”

Andean pinched above his nose.

Applejack felt her lower lip jut out of its own accord. “Did y’all just say you make arcade games?”

“Zebras started the trend,” Zipporah said. “We appreciate storytelling to any end.”

“If there’s a new medium to find,” Za’rapha added, “we zebras seek to not get left behind.”

Applejack could only stare.

(1): Zecora held some of the highest scores in every game in the Ponyville arcade, second only to Button Mash’s scores. He spent twice as many bits as she did in his efforts to become the “Arcade Champion.” She only let him keep the title out of courtesy. And to do otherwise would probably make him cry.

“The Neightendo Headquarters,” Mangle supplied, “lies in Zebrabwe, in darkest Giraffrica.”(1)

“Moving on,” Celestia said, “is there anything that can prove you were in your room during those hours?”

Za’rapha shook his head. “I keep a log, lest my work falter… but even I admit that such can be altered.”

“Very well,” the princess said. “Was there anything else?”

The zebra shook his head, and Celestia nodded. “Alright, then. Aspen?”

“Hm?” The donkey’s head snapped towards her.

Celestia’s left ear flicked down. “Tell us what happened right after Megan fell ill.”

Aspen the Alliterative licked his lips. “We watched as you left. Lord Izod said he wanted to take a walk around the garden. To cool off. I decided to put together a plate of food.”

The room fell silent as they waited for him to continue. When that didn’t happen, Celestia said, “And?”

Aspen wiped away a bit of sweat on his brow. “I put together a plate of food. Then I went back to our room to wait.”

Celestia towered over him. “And what did you do in your room?”

“I—I didn’t—” Aspen choked on his own spit. He blinked away a tear. “Oh, dash it all, I don’t even…”

“Aspen,” Celestia said in a small, quiet voice, “what were you doing when Seabreeze was injured?”

“I just…” Aspen coughed. “I just put together a plate of food.”

“Celestia, please,” Izod said. He came to stand next to Aspen. “There’s no reason to be so hard on him.”

“Izod, somebody has hurt my friend”—Celestia gritted her teeth—“and I would like to find out who it is!”

Everyone jumped back at her outburst. A knife dropped to the ground somewhere in the back of the room. Celestia straightened up, her face the picture of peace, and nodded to Mangle. “Perhaps you’re right, President Mangle. Perhaps a conversation with Aida can wait.”

She looked around at the assembled shocked faces. “We should meet again tomorrow, when all our heads have cooled.”

Celestia sniffed in a quick breath through her nose. “Applejack, Care, Caution, would you accompany me back to our room?”

Applejack nodded, her lips pursed, as the ponies filed out of the kitchen.

Applejack slid out of her dress and let her hair hang loose. She sat quietly to the side, her hat on her head, as she watched Celestia remove her adornments and trinkets. The ancient alicorn flopped wordlessly onto her bed, her wings splayed at her sides.

Applejack tapped a hoof on the floor absently. “You know, Princess, when we were on our boat ride here, ah kinda hoped it was just laughter you kept bottled up inside.”

Celestia shifted her head away from the mayor. “Good night, Applejack.”

Applejack sighed. “Good night, Princess Celestia.”

She walked out of the door and into the hallway. Care and Caution had discarded their ceremonial armor for the lighter chainmail tunics and round helmets.

Care watched as Applejack trotted down the corridor. “What’s up?”

“Just checkin’ on Megan,” Applejack called over her shoulder.

Care and Caution shared a brief glance. “I’ll come, too,” Care said.

Applejack shook her head as her pace quickened. “No need.”

Care galloped until she was side-by-side with Applejack, matching her speed. “You’re the VIP, remember? You need a guard, especially with someone going around hurting people.”

Applejack gave her a small smile. “Ah can take care of mahself.”

“I know,” Care said. “Everypony needs backup.”

They came to the doorway soon enough. Captain Crumplezone of Beefland Homeland Security saluted. “Lord Mayor Applejack. First Lieutenant Care.” Applejack bowed her head while Care matched the minotaur’s salute.

Crumplezone crossed his arms. “What brings you to the Sapience’s—?”

“Megan’s,” Applejack said.

“What brings you to Megan’s room?” Crumplezone said.

“Ah wanna say ‘hi’ an’ see how she’s doin’.” Applejack tilted her hat back. “Is that a good enough reason?”

Crumplezone’s beard ruffled under his chin as he scratched it. “Yeah, I think that’s good enough. That’s what my gut tells me, at least.”

“Gut’s as trustworthy a body part as any,” Applejack said. She walked through the door as the captain opened it. “Thanks.”

The lamps were dim, but not out. They could see Megan lying on Mangle’s bed, half-in and half-out of the covers. She shifted and groaned, and then said something in her throaty language.

“Hay, Sugarcube,” Applejack said. “It’s me, Applejack.”

Megan squinted. Her eyes widened as recognition hit her. She said something in her own language again.

Applejack sighed. “Ah can’t understand you. Sorry.”

Care brought a glass of water to Megan, and the girl drank slowly. She set the glass on her chest and stared at the guard. She pointed at her and said something.

Care tilted her head and pointed at her chest. Megan nodded.

“Care.” Care tapped her chest. “Care.”

Megan nodded and scrunched up her nose. She slowly, laboriously sounded out the word. “Car.”

Applejack laughed. “Do we call that close enough?”

Care smiled, then took the glass to a small sink.

Megan pointed at Applejack, and the mayor was quick to oblige. “Applejack.”

Megan squinted. She gave several false starts before finally coming up with “Ubblejerk.”

Care nearly dropped the glass she was laughing so hard.

“Alright,” Applejack said with a chuckle. “Alright. Um… Apple… Jack…”

Megan nodded. “Urckle … Juck…”

The girl snapped her fingers. “Urpple… Jock?”

Applejack clenched her teeth together to keep snickers from escaping. “AJ.”

“Iee…” Megan blinked. “Jie?”

Care trotted up with a full glass for each of them. “Looks like she has a little trouble with vowels.”

“Can’t imagine pony vowels bein’ much different from a… whatever she is.” Applejack leaned back and sipped. “But ah guess ‘different strokes for different folks.’”

“Different vocal cords, too.” Care’s chain mail clinked as she shifted her weight. She took a gulp. “For all we know, our speech could sound like braying animals to her.”

Megan stared at them with a small hint of trepidation. She settled back down in bed and stared at the ceiling.

“She did call us animals.” Applejack rested her chin on the side of the bed. “How much do you think we act like the animals in her world?”

Care thought for a moment. Her horn glowed as she set her glass on the hardwood floor. “I don’t think it does much good to speculate, Your Lordship.”

“Yeah.” Applejack took her hat off and grasped a clump of her mane. She rolled it together and wrapped a red band around the end. “That’s what Celestia said.”

“I tend to think she knows a thing or two.” Care loosened a clasp near the neck of her chainmail. Her white coat shifted to its natural reddish-orange. “About most things, anyway.”

“And that’s what ah said.” Applejack chuckled. “An’ it’s the honest truth.”

Applejack’s ears perked up at the sound of Crumplezone’s voice. “Y’ hear that?”

Care nodded and walked up to the door. “What’s up?”

Crumplezone poked a thumb out. “This guy says he wants to brings some food in for Megan.”

Care looked past the minotaur to see Aspen standing with his back perfectly straight, a tray balanced on top. The tray held a bowl of steaming chicken-noodle soup. “I hear this is a remedy for carnivores. I figure she’d want something when her stomach clears up.”

Applejack moved up beside Care. “Aren’t you under investigation?”

“Yes,” Aspen said. “But that was about the breezie. Not the Sapi— Megan.”

Care sniffed the soup. “Why would they let you be up and about?”

“Because everyone is afraid of her.” Aspen looked over their shoulders to the girl laying on the bed. “Everyone. Even me. E-especially me. But…”

He licked his lips. “But I’m the only servant brave enough to do this. I’m the only one who can.”

Applejack moved back. “Fair enough. But you ain’t gonna get out of here with any sort of funny business.”

Aspen favored Applejack with a sad smile. “I’m just here to do my job, Lord Mayor.”

Applejack watched as he carried the bowl to the bedside. “Sorta gives you another kinda power over folks, doesn’t it? Bein’ the only one who’ll do a certain job?”

Aspen slid the tray onto a nightstand. He pulled a plastic spoon out of his purple tunic’s pocket and placed it gently beside the bowl. “You’re probably right. It’s a different kind of power.” He smirked. “‘The path to power is walked upon the backs of stupid people.’ And fear makes people do very stupid things indeed.”

Care jumped on the bed and helped Megan sit up, while Applejack carried the soup to her. “Yeah,” Applejack said. “Ah can see that.”

Aspen nodded to the three of them. “Good evening, ladies.”

He walked out of the room and Crumplezone shut the door behind him.

“Here,” Care said. Her horn glowed as she took the spoon. “It’ll be easier if I feed her.”

“Gotcha.” Applejack noticed Megan pointing at the door. “Aspen.”

“Owspin.” Megan clicked her tongue and tried again. “Uhspin.”

The girl turned to Care—“Car”—the door—“Uhspin”—and Applejack—“Uhpplejock.”

Applejack winced even as she shook with silent laughter. She clapped her hooves together slowly. “Got it in one, kid.”

Megan smiled and allowed Care to stick the spoon in her mouth.

Applejack stared at the door. “It’s funny, though.” She turned to Care. “Did he have any guards at all?”

Care frowned as Megan slurped up another spoonful. “No. I don’t think so. Crumplezone probably made sure he was accompanied back.”

Applejack nodded. “Probably.” She lay down on the bed and pulled her hat over her eyes. “Scared people do stupid things, huh?” she mumbled.

She lifted her head up, the brim of her hat touching her nose. “Everybody’s afraid. Everybody.”

Care sniffed the soup again. “You know, I never thought something with ‘chicken’ in the name would smell like honey.”

Applejack leapt to her feet and yanked her hat away from her face. “Holy Horseapples!” Kicks Mcgee flew out and bucked the tray from Care’s telekinetic grip.

Soups spilled all over Mangle’s bed, staining the sheets. Megan pulled away from Applejack, her eyes wide. Care jumped up, her hooves in a combat stance.

“Whoa!” Care sucked in a breath as she clasped her chainmail in a deft motion. Her coat turned white. “Whoa, okay. What’s that about?”

Applejack sucked in deep breaths. “Get Megan on mah back. We’re gettin’ her to the infirmary right the hay now!”

Author's Note

Oh, dear. What seems to have gotten into Applejack?

Cowards * Soldiers * Escapees * Apologies

(*): Three witches gathered together and summoned an all-consuming, singing abomination of goo. Rainbow Power seemed not to have much of an effect, so more pragmatic techniques were used to keep it at bay. Sandbags and hastily-constructed levies were used to direct the monster’s pathway towards Tartarus, where Twilight Sparkle awaited with a direct portal to the most spacious cell. Unfortunately, not everypony was prepared to erect the barriers, and had their homes demolished by the evil goop. This led to Rainbow Dash coining the phrase “You snooze, you Smooze.”

It never quite caught on, strangely enough.

Applejack had been prescribed ambrosia once, when a particularly rough adventure left her leg broken in three places (*). She couldn’t think of many times where she experienced physical pain quite like that. The ambrosia had worked its magic, however, and she was back to bucking apples within a week.

That week spent in bed was nerve-racking, as Applejack was not one to sit still. All week long she lay there, her only company a few books and the occasional visit from a friend. All week long she listened to the plop-plop-plop of the golden liquid with its faint smell of honey.

It wasn’t a smell she’d been able to forget.

Applejack shouldered the door open and leaped into the hall. It was utterly devoid of life. “Dagnabit!”

Care raced to follow her, with Megan balanced in a bubble of magic. “Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong now!?”

Applejack’s head shot around. “Let her go! Put her on mah back, and keep the magic off of her!”

Care jerked her head back. “Right.” She set the girl gently down on Applejack. Megan wrapped her arms around Applejack’s neck, fear in her eyes.

“I think”—Applejack swallowed—“I think Aspen just poisoned her with ambrosia.”

“Wha—” Care looked both ways down the empty hallway. “Why?”

“’Cause he’s scared.” Applejack waved her hoof. “Come on. Ah need yah to show me the way to the infirmary. We need somethin’ tah make her puke, pronto!”

“Um.” Care’s hooves skidded on the floor as she made a false start. “I— I think it’s this way.”

“Well then move it!”

They raced through corridors, down hallways, and past ancient oaken doorways in their journey to reach the sickroom. Care halted and turned back twice, each time raising Applejack’s blood pressure a few pounds per square inch. Megan moaned in Applejack’s ear as she shifted on her back. Applejack chanced a glance at her charge and was dismayed to see a faint golden glow building in her eyes. “Hang on, Sugarcube. Just hold on.”

Care slid to a halt, her foreleg outstretched. “Here! We’re here!” She opened the door with a quick spark from her horn and admitted the new patient.

“Hay, you!” Applejack shouted at two cows standing near a bed. “We need something to make this kid vomit! She’s been poisoned!”

One cow’s eyes widened. “Um. Um…”

“This ain’t a day for ‘um!’”

The other cow shook her head. “I don’t think we have anything for that.”

“Baloney, you don’t!” Applejack tilted, letting Megan slide onto the empty bed. “That’s bull! Even for a cow! You serve the gol-danged President of Beefland, and you don’t have every kind of medicine known to pony and bovine!?”

“Well…” the cow nurse to the right wagged a hoof. “Well, we don’t have ambrosia…”

“Ah ain’t asking fer ambrosia!” Applejack slammed her hat down on a nearby nightstand. “I’m asking fer puke juice!”

“Grab that green coontainer.”

Applejack’s eyes widened. She walked over to a nearby bed, which she had thought was also empty. “Seabreeze?”

The breezie was wrapped in several small, soft handkerchiefs. His rumpled mane was the best-looking part of him. Big, splotchy bruises stood out among his blue face, nicely accenting his purplish eyes. He still kept his limbs clutched tight against his torso, though they were mostly obscured by his covers. “Green coontainer. Three teaspoons. Et’s grumbleroot.”

His wife Dandelion soaked the miniature cloth over his forehead with fresh, cool water. She looked up at Applejack and waved her on. “Shoosh! Shoosh!”

Applejack turned to Care, who already had the required measuring spoon in a telekinetic grip. She accepted the tool, scooped a bit of the powdered root, and dumped it in a glass of water. She motioned for Megan to open her mouth.

Megan pursed her lips. She licked her lips before nodding in acceptance.

“You two,” Applejack said to the cows, “make yerselves useful and get me a bucket.”

Megan winced as the grumbleroot was stirred up. Applejack yelped as a bit of the dust got in her eye. She rubbed it for a second. When her hoof came away, the white of her eye was bright red. “Oh, wow. If ah wasn’t sorry ’bout this before, ah sure am now.”

Megan took the cup in her hands, held her breath, and gulped down the entire mixture.

She retched for three minutes straight. She retched until long after there was anything left in her stomach to retch. Applejack and Care both held her tight until the ordeal was over. She lay back with a sigh, her face scrunched up in that flat, odd way of hers.

Applejack bit her lip when she saw that Megan’s eyes still glowed with a faint glimmer. “She’s still got ambrosia.”

Care looked over Applejack’s shoulder. “What? But… but we got here so quickly!”

“We prescribe ambrosia by the milliliter,” Seabreeze croaked. “It’s very pootent.”

“So,” Applejack said with a tremble, “so what do we do now?”

Megan pulled covers over her legs, but kept her feet free. Her cheeks flushed red as she shivered.

Applejack sat down. “Care, yah gotta wake up Celestia, Mangle, and anybody else who might be able to track that sucker down.”

“On it,” the guard said as she galloped out the door.

“Woos et that slime-booket, Aspen?” Seabreeze hissed. He blinked as his little son, Crisperfall, dripped a little dab of ambrosia into his mouth. “Stole my medicine.”

“Ah think so, yeah.”

(1): Untranslatable breezie curse. The best analogue would be to say that it calls both the subject’s lineage and ability to reproduce into question.

“Schmerdeflerven!(1)” Seabreeze swore. “Soo that’s whoot the creep wunted.”

Seabreeze rolled his head to look at his wife. He flicked his eyes at their son. She nodded, gathered Crisperfall up, and fluttered away.

“He came to me in the hallway,” Seabreeze said. “He said he needed to borrow the ambrosia. I told him et woosn’t mine to geev, and asked him whoot he wunted it foor. He wouldn’t say. We started shouting at each oother.” He chewed his lower lip and peered over at Megan. “I doon’t remember after that.”

Applejack nodded. “Ah guess it’s outta mah hooves now.” She rested her forelegs on Megan’s bed as the girl’s eyes drooped. “Ain’t there anything else ah can do?”

“Et’s already entered her bloodstream.” Seabreeze rested his head on a marshmallow-sized pillow. “She’ll fight it, oor she wun’t.”

Applejack nuzzled Megan’s shoulder. The girl was out cold.

“You two,” Applejack said with an icy glare at the nurses, “what’s yer problem?”

The cows bumped up against each other for comfort. One of them cleared her throat. “We, ah, didn’t know if the grumbleroot would be even more toxic to the Sapi—”

“Stop! Lying! To me!” Applejack rose up on her hind legs to meet the cows eye-to-eye. “Ah’m sick o’ bein’ lied to! You wanted her dead, didn’t yah!?”

The cow that hadn’t spoken choked on tears. “She’s dangerous!”

Applejack pressed her hooves against the cow’s shoulders and pressed her against the counter. “She’s a little kid, you dummy!”

The first nurse pushed Applejack away. “Aspen explained it very clearly! She’s going to wreck our way of—”

“Look at her, you cud-chewing sack of milk!” Applejack roared. She gripped the cow’s face with her forelegs. “Look!”

Megan shifted beneath the blankets. She mumbled something as her cheeks took on a gilded glow from within.

“But—” The other nurse shook herself. “But the griffons, and the minotaurs… and war!” She clutched her head. “Aspen made complete sense when he talked about it. I don’t…”

Applejack felt an icy claw grip her heart. “How many others did he talk to?”

“I don’t know,” the nurse said. “He just came to us and said not to treat the Sapience.”

The other sat down. “He was so convincing…”

“Oh mah gosh.” Applejack stumbled back. “The guards…”

She swiped her hat off the nightstand and pressed it over her messy mane. “You two, ah’m leavin’. If y’all do anything, ah mean anything, to Megan, ah’m gonna hear ’bout it.”

She bared her teeth. “If’n that happens, jus’ try an’ run.”

The cows looked at each other, their hearts in their throats, as Applejack galloped away.

Applejack charged down the hallways, searching for a guard station. She found a few guards protecting a doorway and waved them over. “Hay, you! Yeah, you!”

One guard flexed his arm, causing the tattoo that designated him a lieutenant to dance. “What’s your beef?”

“You guys seen Crumplezone?” she asked. She kept her legs bent, coiled in preparation for a quick getaway. “Ah needed to speak to him.”

“He should be outside the Sapience’s door, shouldn’t he?” the other said. His tattoos designated him as a slightly lower rank. “He volunteered for it, anyhow.”

“Ain’t there.” Applejack watched the guards’ eyes closely. “Where else could he be?”

The lieutenant shrugged. “In the guard quarters? Maybe?”

The second squinted at her. “Why do you wanna know?”

Applejack scowled at the second minotaur. “’Cause ah need to talk tah him ’bout a real jacka—”

The minotaur bent down and lunged for her, fingers outstretched to grasp her mane. She jumped back, spun on her front hooves, and sent Bucky McGillicuddy and Kicks McGee plowing into his snout. He slumped to the side and bumped his chin on the floorboards.

“Whoa!” The lieutenant held out his hands. “Whoa. Let’s calm down. I don’t know why he just jumped at you, but I’m sure we can work it out if we just stay cool.”

“So Aspen got tah yah, too, huh?” Applejack snarled in the fallen guard’s face. “Where’s Crumplezone keepin’ him?”

The guard who had not gotten schooled tilted his head. “Wait, the advisor? Isn’t he under lock and key?”

“He already got away,” the other said through what was sure to be a broken snout. He wiped at his nosebleed. “Crumplezone had a ship waiting.” He glared up at Applejack. “The Sapience is already dead, anyhow.”

“Her name”—Applejack pressed her hoof down on the guard’s nose—“is Megan.”

“Whoa, wait, dead?” The lieutenant wiggled his fingers. “Like, ‘dead’ dead?”

“Not if ah can help it!” Applejack ran down the corridor towards the entrance. “You get him tied up an’ see if any of the other guards are with him!”

The lieutenant looked down at his partner. “Wow. That pony kicked your butt.”

“Shaddup.”

“Of course it weren’t just Aspen,” Applejack mumbled as she ran through the city streets. “Of course it weren’t that easy.”

The sky was black, devoid of stars. Applejack stumbled over unseen potholes and loose cobblestones as she raced for the harbor. “Of course it has tah be a whole conspiratorial hootenanny!”

One ship was lit with lanterns. It was a smaller vessel than most of the boats gathered for the meeting with the Sapience. Applejack could just make out its silhouette against Celestia’s Buttercup’s Folly. It was snug in the harbor, but a few cows could be seen tossing ropes and clambering up the mast.

Along with a single, towering minotaur.

Applejack clomped her way across the docks and ducked down beside the gangplank. She peered around, getting a good look at the white stripes tattooed to the minotaur’s shoulders. “Captain Crumplezone.”

She grasped a nearby rope and wrapped it around her shoulders. She stepped noisily onto the gangplank and waved at the captain. “Aye, aye, Captain! Permission to come aboard?”

Crumplezone turned to her. “Huh? Who’re you?”

His eyes widened when Applejack stepped into the light of the lantern.

“Ah was lookin’ fer Aspen,” she said. “Ah figured you’d seen him.”

Crumplezone pressed his palms together. “Why would you figure that?”

Cow sailors scurried away from the vicious staring match. One particularly buff cow gasped and hid her head in a rope bundle.

“’Cause you were the last person that saw him.” Applejack walked up to Crumplezone. She stopped when her face was mere inches from the minotaur’s knee. “Since he didn’t have any guards, ah figured that you’d be escortin’ him back to his room.” She looked around at the deck. “Not his cabin.”

When Crumplezone said nothing, Applejack sighed. “Why’d you do it? Why’d you help him try an’ murder Megan?”

“Because he understands,” Aspen said.

He stood in the door to the main cabin, framed with the light from several lanterns. His purple tunic was ruffled, as if he’d been carried, or as if he’d slept in it. “He understands that this is exactly what Andean Ursagryph wants.”

Applejack backed away from the captain and sneered. “This ain’t about Andean. It’s about Megan.”

“It’s all linked, Applejack.” Aspen blinked tired eyes. “Andean wants war. He’s going to find any excuse he can get to have it. The Sapience is that excuse!”

“Her name’s Megan!” Applejack snapped. “And she’s a person! And you tried to murder her!”

“Whoa, wait,” one of the sailors said. She turned to Crumplezone. “He what? You didn’t say anything about harboring murderers!”

Crumplezone lifted the cow with one hand. “Whatever you say, boss,” she gulped.

“Andean is looking for anything to destabilize the world, to destroy the status quo!” Aspen stomped a hoof. “What’s more destabilizing than a new Sapience?”

“Ah don’t know,” Applejack said. “But ah don’t see how it all adds up to war.” She lifted the rope and fiddled with the end, crafting a makeshift lasso.

“Look at our people,” Aspen said. “Did you see how they fought? Did you see how they hate each other? Those arguments were sparked by the presence of one new Sapience.” He shook his head. “We couldn’t handle one, how could we stand against an entire nation?”

He lifted his hoof. “At that point, the balance”—he let it drop—“tips.”

“So that prompted you to kill her? Is that supposed to make it okay?” Applejack clamped her jaw tight. “Andean wants war with Equestria, not you.”

“And who do you think,” Aspen said, “his armies will roll over to get to you!?”

He sucked in a breath. “Lightninggale is a small country. With little-to-no armed forces and small supplies of resources. We are nothing but a blob on the map. A potato-shaped blob.”

Applejack glared up at Crumplezone. He shrugged. “When Equestria is gone, Beefland’s next.”

Applejack shook her head. She backed away from the two of them, her hat resting on the back of her head. “That don’t make it right. It ain’t.”

“The needs of the many,” Aspen said with a shrug, “outweigh the needs of the few.”

“You tried to murder a child!” Applejack said. “You’re sick! The both o’ you!”

She lowered her head. “An’ now, ah’m takin you in.”

Crumplezone jumped at her, his fist swinging through the air. She stepped to the side and let his hand slip through her rope. She gripped the other end in her mouth and raced around him. She made several laps before he could regain his balance. With a quick tug at the rope, his legs were tangled. He fell to the deck with a mighty thoom.

She turned to Aspen but stopped short. He had come to her, a spear gripped in his shaky forelegs. He aimed at her chest, though he had to keep correcting it. “You can t-take me in, but it won’t ch-change anything.”

Applejack stood still, her mouth tight and her eyes dark. “You could try an’ kill Megan, but that won’t change aught, either.”

“She’s already d-dead.” The spear jiggled. “Ambrosia works fast.”

“She ain’t gonna give up,” Applejack said. “An’ neither am ah.”

Aspen licked his lips and jerked the spear towards the shore. “Off my boat. Off.”

“If the path tah power is walked on stupid people,” Applejack said, “how dumb do you think ah am?”

Aspen squinted in the light of the lanterns, which seemed to get brighter with each second. As he watched Applejack’s face, his eyes widened. “Flying feather...”

Applejack looked over his shoulder as the sun rose over the horizon. “Stallin’ much?”

The ship lurched to the side, sending rolling waves into the harbor. Shardscale sat on the bow, her claws digging deep into the woodwork. Aspen spun, coming face-to-face with the large, green-scaled dragon. He twisted to point the spear at her, his face contorting with terror.

A moment later, it contorted with pain.

An ice arrow zinged across the harbor and struck him in his rear-right thigh. He screeched and fell to the deck as the ice spread across his entire leg. He swatted at it, scratched at it, bit at it, but it froze solid as a rock.

Applejack walked over to the ship’s railing and leaned on it. On shore, she could see King Andean lowering his bow with a satisfied smirk. “Always a little to the left. Still, not bad,” he said.

(2): An unexplored region seen by few save for the Princesses of Equestria. They were perhaps the only ones who knew where the sun and moon went when not overhead. Many explorers wished to travel there, but had little in the way of knowledge on how much luggage they would need. So the mystery remained, as the princesses were a bit tight-lipped about it.

There was also that little legend that anypony who returned from there went mad. Call them cowards, but these scientific explorers valued their minds.(2a)

(2a): Baseless accusations. The princesses were perfectly sane. Please ignore that Nightmare Moon incident.

Celestia stood beside him, her horn flaring bright as she lifted the sun. She lowered her head and returned it slowly to where it was supposed to rest: The Far Side of the World.(2) She looked at Andean with a frown, but neglected to say anything.

Mangle marched his way onboard the ship. He looked down at the captain of his guard with a scowl. “Aw, Crump. This ain’t you.”

The restrained minotaur refused to meet his president’s eyes. “Tried to protect Beefland. Like always.”

Applejack rested her hoof as high on Mangle’s shoulder as she could. “You okay?”

“He's my cousin, the one that got his legs tied together.” He shook his head as Crumplezone was carted away by guards. “I always figured he was made of sterner stuff than that.”

He snorted as he followed them down. “Maybe he’ll be able to tell us how deep this thing goes.”

Applejack stood beside the fallen Aspen, waiting for the next group to come aboard and remove him. She locked her gaze with Celestia’s for a brief moment. The princess gave her a brief smile, then turned to Izod, who was busy making himself a nuisance asking what was going on.

“I was wrong about you,” Aspen wheezed.

Applejack frowned at him. “Not surprisin’. ’Bout what?”

Aspen looked at her hat. He shifted his frozen leg, which was beginning to turn black beneath the ice. “You care about appearances. You care a—” He winced as tears poured out of his eyes. “You care a lot about appearances.”

She shifted her legs to a more relaxed stance. “How so?”

“You—” He ground his teeth together with a groan. “You care that the outside shows what’s—augh!—inside!”

He flopped limply on the deck and glared at her with one eye. “It’s a poor position for a politician to take.”

Applejack sat down as cows walked up with a stretcher secured to their backs. “Maybe ah ain’t a politician.”

Izod poked his head around the cows. His mouth dropped open when he caught sight of Aspen. He sat down hard.

He quietly watched them disembark. Applejack took notice that he wasn’t wearing his oversized hat. She walked past him with the intent to pay him no mind.

“He was my best friend,” Izod whispered, “and I never told him.”

Applejack pulled her hat over her eyes and plodded on.

Seabreeze paced across Megan’s bed. Slowly and painfully, but he was walking.

“How is she?” Celestia asked for the fifth time. She leaned forward and examined the girl. “Will she pull through?”

“Not eef eyew keep breathing her air!” Seabreeze said. “Keep eyewr distance!”

Zipporah rubbed her eyes. “I wish there was a magic brew, but that kind of thing would harm her, too.”

“Harm to her,” Andean mumbled, “or harm to you?”

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

Andean sighed at the magic bubble floating beside him. “You don’t have to record that, you know.”

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

Andean frowned. “This really isn’t of any historic value at all.”

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

“If’n there’s one thing ah’ve learned,” Applejack said, “it’s that y’all can’t get nowhere arguin’ with dragons.”

“Ooh,” Shard said. “I’ll have to remember that one.”

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

Mangle sat to the side, his hands cupped over his chin and his eyes contemplative. His ears perked up when Aida walked into the room. “Crumplezone gave me a list,” she said. “We’ll have them gathered up tomorrow.”

Mangle thanked her and turned back to Megan. “One less conspiracy to worry about.”

Celestia walked over to him and touched his arm with her wingtip. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“No.” Mangle shrugged her off. “But it happened in my house, so it’s my responsibility.”

“Hold on!” Applejack said. She waved her hat to get their attention. “She’s wakin’ up!”

Megan stirred, a small smile on her face. She opened her eyes.

The smile disappeared when she saw Celestia.

Megan muttered something and looked to the side.

Celestia also looked to the side. “Perhaps it is time to get her home.”

Mangle cracked his knuckles and stood up. “I think I can hook you up with that.”

Author's Note

One chapter left, I believe. We'll wrap a few things up next time.

Barrows and Wights * Carriages and Wagons * Hi and Bye * No and Never * Voyages and Destinations

An eternal fog lay over the barrows. The hills were dotted with mossy mounds; some were pony-sized, but others were as large as a house. Applejack walked slowly between them as she followed Mangle. She barely resisted the urge to walk underneath Celestia like a filly with her mother. There was an unmistakable sense of unease as they journeyed deeper into the graveyard.

“Each of these mounds holds a Minotaur Lord of Old,” Mangle said. “Buried deep with his most precious treasures. And his personal weapon.”

“Great warriors, each of them,” Celestia said. “And a few good friends.”

Megan clutched Care’s mane as she rode on her back. Her expression was a mix of recognition and sheer terror. Caution looked over at her, his lips pursed. “She’s been here alright,” he said.

“You say she came from a barrow?” Zipporah said, Za’rapha close beside her. “What brought her here? What causes her sorrow?”

(*): Wights are odd parasites that spawn in dark, wet graves. They have not been thoroughly studied due to their aggressive, violent nature, but it is known that they take the form of whatever creature was buried in the tomb. Their transformation reflects the original body’s decayed state, leading to wights being (falsely) assumed to be undead.

It is suspected that they are either offshoots of the changelings or the windigos, due to their shape-shifting capabilities and their ability to feast off of negative emotions. They will often haunt the grave of a well-loved being, terrorizing any well-wishing visitors. They have been known to eat meat on occasion as well, and don’t care overly much where they get it.

“An old caretaker found her running from a wight (*),” Mangle replied. He stumbled over a shallow dip in the ground. “Ouch.”

“Wights?” Andean pressed past the zebras, his guards flanking him. “You do know that such infestations are highly preventable.”

“Lemme stop you right there,” Mangle said. “Now, yeah, we haven’t had a Minotaur Lord since Vertibreak. But it’s still our history. Can you imagine the stink my people would raise if I just went and cremated five-hundred sacred Minotaur Lords?”

Izod took up the rear, his single guard carting the large hat on his back. Izod lifted his head just long enough to speak. “People don’t like it when you set fire to things that are important to them.”

Celestia craned her neck around. Her jaw hung loose as she examined the tombs as she passed. “Some of these barrows… They’ve been here since before I started visiting Beefland.”

“The oldest one is where we’re going.” Mangle twitched an ear in the direction of a barrow, searching for sign of wights. Finding nothing, he pressed on. “Records point to Lord Wrathshield ruling before the First Hearth’s Warming. Maybe even longer ago than that.”

“Ah. Wrathshield.” Celestia chuckled. “He was a legend in my time. I can’t imagine most have heard of him nowadays.”

They came to a tall mound. Bits and pieces of stone broke through the moss and lay scattered around the base. A hole in its side, much like one dug by a rabbit, led deep within the barrow.

“This may sound funny, Yer Majesty,” Applejack said, “but ah think ah’d feel safer if we had a dragon with us.”

“Bad idea.” Mangle motioned Care and Megan forward. “Shardscale wouldn’t be able to take two steps without crushing a barrow.”

Applejack stood alongside Care. “You ready for this?”

Care nodded, but kept her jaw clamped tight.

Applejack felt Megan’s fingers run through her mane. The sound of a rock falling caused the fingers to tighten their grip. Applejack turned to the girl on Care’s back and patted her shoulder. “It’s gonna be alright, Sugarcube. We’re getting’ you home.”

Megan licked her lips. “Upplejock,” she said, and then nodded.

“Wait.” King Andean walked forward and extended a wing to indicate one of his guards. “I want you to take Crested Barbary with you.”

“What for?” Applejack said. “Care’s one of the best, and ah ain’t no slouch.”

“Safety in numbers, for one thing.” Andean gave his wing a flap and folded it. “Have I mentioned he can fly? Highly useful skill, in my experience.”

Celestia’s nose twitched. She snorted. “He’s right. You’ll be fine.”

Applejack adjusted her hat. “Sounds like you come highly recommended, Mister Barbie.”

“Barbary,” the guard said. “Captain Barbary.”

“Cap’n.” Applejack bowed and pointed at the opening. “After you.”

The guard ducked beneath the overhanging greenery, and was soon followed by Applejack, Care, and Megan. Care lit her horn, bathing the cavernous barrow in a pinkish glow. The room was built out of stone, individual blocks stacked atop each other. Webs hung from the ceiling, tangled up in roots from the plants above. The echoes of dripping water plinked somewhere deep inside the chamber.

“If ah get cobwebs in mah mane,” Applejack muttered, “these spiders have had it.”

Crested’s eagle-like eyes glinted. He rested his talon on the rapier secured to his side. “Cobwebs may be the least of our troubles.”

The shine around Care’s horn intensified. “Wights?”

“Just one.” Crested drew his sword and pointed into the darkness. “Have you noticed the shadows shifting?”

Applejack squared her hooves. “How bright does that bonehead of yours get, Care?”

Care shot Applejack a frustrated glance. “Bonehead? Really?”

“Can we work on political correctness in a couple minutes?”

“Eh. A few more lumens, but it gets hard after that. Why?”

“Ah think we might need ’em all.”

As the horn brightened, Care’s frown became a gap-mouthed gasp. “Sweet Celestia’s Sun-kissed Butt.”

A Minotaur Lord sat before them. Kinda. It was missing most of its skin, and what little it had was loose and leathery. Its empty eyes glared at them as its bony hands lifted a massive, sharp-edged shield.

Applejack swallowed. “Lord Wrathshield, ah presume?”

The Minotaur Lord said nothing. Unsurprisingly.

Crested pointed his rapier at the lord’s chest. He poked it. “Maybe it isn’t a wight.”

Care shifted as Megan’s face was buried in her neck. “It could have moved to a different burrow.”

“Barrow,” Crested said. He poked the body again. “Over two-thousand years old. This place must be enchanted to keep him from turning to dust.”

Applejack took Megan’s hand. She pulled her gently off Care’s back and motioned around the tomb. “Home? You see home?”

Megan seemed to catch the drift, judging by the way she examined the room in the light of Care’s horn. Now that Applejack wasn’t jumping at shadows, she took notice of the piles of coins scattered along the floor, and the occasional gemstone sitting on a pedestal. Rumpled strips of cloth were nailed to the walls, which had once held beautiful patterns and images.

“Rarity’d be ticked,” Applejack said.

Megan lifted a hand. Her outstretched finger pointed to the wall next to Wrathshield. She said something in her language and took a hesitant step.

Applejack followed her. The wall was just as covered with strips of cloth as the others, but on that one there was a sheen not present in the others. She drew her face close.

A cloth leaped out at her.

Applejack jumped half the length of the barrow. Her yelp echoed long after she had stopped screaming.

“Are you alright down there?” Celestia said.

Applejack stared hard as the cloth fluttered around. “Uh… uh, maybe?”

“Look,” Crested said. He sheathed his sword and touched the shiny wall. “It’s a mirror.”

His talon sunk into the glass. He pulled away with a stutter. “I—went right through.”

“A magic mirror.” Applejack joined him at the wall. “A doorway to another world. Of course! Just like Twilight said!”

“Twilight Sparkle?” Care said. “The princess? She’d dealt with magic mirrors before?”

“She visited a whole other world,” Applejack said. “She don’t talk much about it, but this might be a similar thing.” Applejack held her cheek next to the mirror. “Ah feel a breeze. That’s why the cloth is flutterin’.”

“And that is why the shadows shifted.” Crested nodded. “Are we going in?”

Applejack rolled her shoulders. She looked back at Megan and stretched out a foreleg. The girl took hold. “Ah don’t see why not.”

They walked through the mirror, one by one. The enchanted glass felt like water as they touched it, and it rippled around their bodies. Applejack kept her eyes shut until she felt the hairs on her tail finally settle to the ground.

She opened her eyes and found herself in a shallow cave. The mouth was mere feet away, through which she could see blue sky. She looked back at where she’d come and saw a giant formation of green crystal.

“Well…” Applejack cleared her throat. “That was somethin’ else.”

Megan’s eyes opened wide. She brushed past both ponies and the griffon as they gawped. She left the cave and spun around, taking in the sights and sounds of her own world.

Applejack left the cave and stared. Just stared. Mountains loomed high, their peaks white with snow. The stone felt cool beneath her hooves, alternately smooth and craggy where it had been worn away with rain and wind. A breeze ruffled her fur and drew her attention towards her left.

Green plains stretched for miles on end. Tall grass waved to and fro as hulking herds grazed. The sky turned purple as the sun set behind her, and fluffy clouds flew by overhead.

“It looks a little like Mustangia, but…” Care tilted her head. “It’s so big.”

Crested Barbary tapped a stone with his talons. “My family mines the hills. These mountains seem… a bit like home.”

Megan put her hand on Applejack’s back and ran her fingers through her fur. Her mouth quirked in the beginning of a smile, but it disappeared as she turned towards the mountains.

Applejack looked around until she found a pass. “We’ll head that way. Cap’n, you circle around overhead an’ see if you can see any like her.”

The griffon flew off, and the ponies set forth.

The stone darkened as the sun hid behind a lofty peak. Applejack and co. found themselves between two high walls of rock, a narrow pass through the mountains. Megan had taken to riding on Applejack’s back. Her soles were bruised and bloody from the harsh ground.

“Ah guess it’s taken me ’til now to notice she don’t have no hooves.” Applejack frowned at Megan’s feet. “Or pads. How do these things even get around?”

“Carriages,” Barbary said as he descended. “Carriages and wagons. I found one up ahead.”

Applejack’s ears perked up. “People?”

“Bodies,” Crested Barbary said through a clenched beak. “Two equines secured to a wrecked wagon. There’re signs of other travelers, so it seems they were left behind when they tumbled off a narrow ledge.”

Applejack jerked her head back. “Two bodies? They just left ’em? How could they—”

She blinked. “Oh. Animals. Oh.” She dipped her head down. “Were there any like her?”

“No. I searched the entire wreckage. It looks like they left most of their belonging behind.”

Care grimaced. “Including their beasts of burden. I’m not sure I like this new world.”

Applejack thought for a moment. “Can you track where the others went? How far could they have gotten?”

“I can’t assume anything about their rate of travel, especially in these mountains.” The griffon shrugged. “In the week or so she’s been in our world, they could be miles away, or they could be stuck in the mountains.”

“Keep circling around,” Applejack said. “We came here to get her home, so that’s what we’re gonna do.”

Crested looked up at the dimming sky. “They’ll most likely send somebody in after us if we stay until tomorrow.”

“Good. They can help search, too.”

They traveled on for another hour. The stars appeared in the sky, first one at a time, then in clusters. Applejack found herself staring. “They look like they go on forever.”

Care nodded her head slowly. “How different do you think this place is?”

“Ah can’t even begin to speculate,” Applejack said. “It’s just so… big.”

Care tapped her horn. “Kinda empty, too.”

Applejack lowered an eyebrow. “Howz’at?”

“I can’t feel any magic.” Care shut her eyes and concentrated. “I don’t feel anything except my own. You—can you feel the land like you earth ponies always talk about?”

Applejack looked down at her hooves. “Nah, but ah never felt much through rock anyhow.”

Care lit her horn with its pink glow as the shadows grew. “I don’t like this world much.”

They found the narrow ledge shortly after. Megan gripped the edge with her fingers while Care sent a flare downwards. The girl cupped her fingers over her mouth as the saw the wreck. Tears threatened to spill out over her cheeks.

Applejack put a hoof on her shoulder. She smiled at the girl and pointed further down the path. Megan’s gaze shifted rapidly between the wreckage and the pony, her mouth open. After a nuzzle from Applejack, she climbed back onto her and rode away.

They carried on for another hour through the darkness, before Crested Barbary landed beside them once more. “The good news is that I see a campfire roughly fifteen minutes away from you.”

“And the bad news?” Care asked.

“They are very clearly armed.” Crested rested his talon on the hilt of his sword. “If we are to approach them, it must be with extreme caution.”

Applejack shivered. “Ah’d like to wait ’til mornin’, but it ain’t fair for Megan.”

“Very well, then,” Crested said. “How do you plan to do this?”

Applejack rested her chin on an outcropping. Several wagons rested nearby in a circle, their bodies forming a perimeter around the camp. A dim campfire burned in the center, and tall, bipedal creatures wandered around the outer edge. They all carried wood and metal tubes of some kind in the crook of their arms.

Applejack’s green eyes met Care’s pink ones, and she gave her a nod. A burst of pink light shot into the air, illuminating the surrounding area. The Sapiences around the camp spun on the light, and one of their tubes flashed. A shorter creature—a little older than Megan, judging by his face—backed away from a taller one who was shouting at him. The tall creature grabbed the tool away and sent the short one into the camp. The elder lifted a hand and waved the others forward.

“Okay,” Care breathed. “Okay. They’ve got boomsticks.”

“They’re too heavily armed,” Crested whispered. “You had best let me go in first.”

“They see you, they’re liable to shoot.” Applejack gulped and pressed her hat firmly down. “It’s gotta be me.”

“As your personal guard in this case,” Care said, “I’d like to once again advise against this.”

“As your Lord Mayor,” Applejack said, “ah’d like to say ah don’t give a hoot none.”

Applejack slowly, carefully stepped out from behind the corner. She lifted her hooves one at a time, her head raised, extremely careful not to look like she was about to charge. She waved a hoof and called out. “Hay! Hay!”

The armed creatures turned to her as if they were one. One brought his “boomstick” up to his eye, but the elder put his hand on the barrel. The tall creature called out to Applejack with a whistle.

Applejack frowned. “What? Does he think ah’m a dog?” She sighed. “Of course he does.”

She lowered her hoof and took another step. “Ah’m just here to return a little kid. Ah think she’s yours? Maybe?”

She turned to the side, showing them her profile and the girl laying on her back. Applejack nuzzled Megan, who looked up with dreary eyes. “Time to wake up, Sugarcube. Time to start headin’ home.”

Megan rubbed her eyes and sat up. She said something in her language, but was cut off by the sight that met her. She slid off Applejack’s back and stood there, her face having the appearance of one who was lost.

The elder dropped his “boomstick” to the ground and marched forward. Another creature placed a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to hold him back, but the resistance was met with a shove. The tall creature’s pace quickened to a run.

Megan sucked in a deep breath. She looked at Applejack with her jaw hanging loose.

Applejack grinned. She pushed the girl forward with a hoof. “Go’on, then. Scoot.”

“Megan!” the tall creature said.

Megan yelped something in reply before bolting across the stone. The two met in the middle, between the camp and Applejack’s crew. The elder fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around the girl, holding her tight. They shook as they held each other, and Applejack couldn’t quite tell if it was with sobs or laughter.

“Maybe it’s both,” she mused. The grin never left her face as she turned around and headed back the way she came.

“Come on, let’s get back to Beefland,” she told Care and Crested. “Ah think they’ll be happy to hear we’re startin’ on good terms.”

The griffon and the pony nodded. Care glanced up at her flare, sent a spark flying from her horn, and caused the ball of light to poof out.

The last thing Megan and her father saw before darkness enveloped the mountainside were the outlines of two ponies and one griffon as they crested the pathway.

Megan reached out her hand. “Upplejock!”

When she received no answer, she settled for waving goodbye.

Applejack poked her head out of the barrow. “Celestia, ah get the feelin’ you’re gonna like what we got to say. It’s a magic mirror, just like what Twi—”

She found herself facing down about a dozen stone-faced minotaur soldiers. She paused before sliding the rest of the way out of the tomb. “Hay, fellas. Just about to send in the search party, huh?”

Celestia appeared out of the fog with a small smile. “Something like that. I take it your mission was successful?”

“Megan’s safe an’ sound with her family.” Applejack looked around. Most of the party that had accompanied them to the barrows were still there, save for Izod and the zebras. “How long’ve we been gone?”

“About six hours.” Celestia pursed her lips. “And was time the same in the other world?”

“Yeah. Six hours for us, too.” Applejack turned around and helped Care climb out of the tomb.

Crested Barbary climbed out next. He bowed to Andean and presented him with a small bag. “I found what you described, King Ursagryph.”

Celestia’s wings extended. “Found what?”

“A souvenir,” Andean said as he hefted the pouch. “A small piece of the other world. I’m thinking of starting a collection.”

“Do not, do not, do not lie to me,” Celestia said.

“Fair enough.” Andean glared into her eyes. “It is gunpowder.”

Celestia wet her lips. “You have mountains to blow holes in?”

“Actually, I do.” Andean tucked the pouch into a bag clung over his back. “We griffons must mine the hills for iron to survive. I can only imagine good things coming of this.”

“And does anybody else see the irony?” Celestia muttered. “I don’t suppose you’re willing to share the formula?”

“I don’t suppose I am.” Andean pulled out his two smooth stones and held them a few inches apart. “Although I think the breezies might be interested. For trade.” He grinned. “Do you have anything worth trading, Princess?”

Celestia pressed her teeth together. “I think we could work something out.”

“Oh good,” Andean said. He let go of one stone and watched it jump over to the other. They clung together. “Wouldn’t want relations to sour, would you?”

Celestia ground her hoof in the dirt. “Of course not.”

Mangle walked up beside Applejack. He rubbed the bridge of his nose as he knelt down to roughly her level. “You said that it’s a magic mirror?”

“Yeah. It’s like the whole back wall,” Applejack said. “Why?”

Mangle turned to the soldiers. “Break it down.”

“What?” Celestia said. “What!?”

The soldiers picked up a carved cedar trunk and moved to the barrow.

“No!” Celestia gripped the trunk in her magic and met Mangle’s gaze. “No, you can’t destroy the mirror! What are you even thinking?”

Mangle’s lips trembled. “We can’t do it, Celestia.”

Celestia’s grip faltered. “What?”

“We can’t do it.” Mangle shook his head. “You saw how we acted. You saw what we did when it was just one. There’s whole nations out there.” His throat bobbed as he fought down the dryness in his mouth. “What’ll we become, Celestia? How would we handle it?”

A mighty crash rocked the barrows. More minotaurs appeared out of the mist, carrying battering rams of their own. They assailed the barrow of Wrathshield, each blow cracking it further.

“What did we become?” Mangle said. “We almost had a war break out over dinner! Aspen attempted murder, and so did my cousin!” Mangle clenched his fists as the barrow crumbled. “We can barely hold together now, let alone with a whole new species to shift things. We just aren’t ready for them!”

The sound of glass shattering punctuated his next statement: “And I don’t think we ever will be.”

Celestia dropped her grip on the battering ram. She brought her face close to Mangle’s and hissed, “But we might have. We might have, Mangle. Now we’ll never find out.”

Mangle nodded, his head low. “I can live with that.”

Celestia stumbled back, the skin around her eyes tight. She bowed her head and spoke with a whisper. “Applejack, we are leaving.”

She lifted her eyes to Mangle. “We’ll gather our things from the Egg and be on our way.”

Mangle shivered where he stood. “That’s—a good idea.”

Celestia, Applejack, Care, and Caution walked off into the fog.

Mangle stood alone.

Applejack stood on the docks, her saddlebags at her sides. She decided to put a little distance between her and Celestia, and had made her way to the harbor early.

She certainly knew the way, now.

She flinched back as flapping wings blew wind into her face. Andean Ursagryph waved his guards up the gangplank to their vessel before sucking in a deep breath of the salty air. “Do you like the ocean, Lord Mayor?”

“Don’t feel strong about it one way or t’other.” Applejack rested her back against a pile of ropes.

“I find it comforting.” Andean held a talon over the side of the docks. “Though one will travel far and wide, still we know that there is but one ocean. We are never far from our own shore.”

“Ah tend to see the world like an earth pony,” Applejack said. “Ah look at the mileage.”

“Do you intend to spoil every good mood you come across,” Andean said, “or do you merely dislike the way I smile?”

“Maybe if yah didn’t look like you were gonna eat me when you smile.” Applejack scowled at him. “Ah don’t think you have a friendly bone in your body.”

Andean pondered her words for a while as they listened to the waves crash against the docks. “Do you have children, Lord Mayor?”

Applejack stared at him out of the corner of her eye. She licked her front teeth. “Never took the opportunity to have any of mah own. Mah brother an’ ah raised our youngest sister since she was a toddler, though.”

Andean tilted his head back. “What of your parents?”

“Ah don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“It’s not,” Andean said. “I have two daughters who absolutely love bedtime stories. I have a feeling that the new one about a girl from a strange new world will be their favorite for a while.”

“Oh yeah,” Applejack muttered. “That sounds like a hoot. Gonna mention how you were gonna start a war in the middle of a diplomatic dinner?”

“Hmm. I might leave that part out.” Andean unfurled his wings halfway. “I don’t want war, Applejack. I want growth.” He tilted his head towards her. “To reiterate a previous point, you can’t have growth without conflict.”

Applejack shut her eyes and pulled her hat from her head. She set it down beside her and raised her head to the sky. “Maybe not.”

She opened one eye. “But ah do know that you can have conflict without growth.”

Andean rubbed his chin. “Ah, thus your speech on resolving.” He stood and turned to his vessel. “Much like the new trade agreements that will no doubt be popping up.”

Applejack let out a gusty breath. “Well, more power to yah, ah guess.”

“Precisely.” Andean lifted his massive frame into the air with a sweep of his wings. “Keep pondering, Applejack. Perhaps one day you shall stand tall as one of the great sages. Someday.”

The ship’s bell sounded as the griffons embarked on their return trip to Felaccia. The ponies’ journey home began soon after, as Celestia and her entourage marched up the gangplank. Applejack followed at a sedate pace.

It was a quiet trip for the first two days. Celestia stayed in her cabin, and Applejack wandered around the ship aimlessly. The third day brought choppy water, leading to Celestia requiring a few minutes outside to relieve her troubled stomach. After a particularly rough lurch, Applejack pulled alongside Celestia.

“Ah’m sorry about what ah said.”

Celestia wiped her mouth. “About what?”

“About wishin’ you were only hidin’ yer laughter inside.”

“I wish that, too.” Celestia leaned on the railing and stared at the waves. “I told you I hid things, back when we first arrived at Beefland.”

“Yeah.” Applejack blinked back the sea spray. “Ah guess ah didn’t really get it.”

“Sometimes you have to look like you have it together. You have to present a proper face.”

“And when people find out that what’s on the inside don’t match up?”

Celestia and Applejack fell silent.

“Aspen…” Applejack shook her head. “Aspen said ah care that what’s inside matches the outside. An’ he was right. But…” She bit her lip. “But that means that what’s inside me shows. It shows real well. I’ve been…”

She sucked on her teeth. “Ah ain’t been real nice to some folks. Ah been downright nasty to a lot of ’em. An’ they don’t really deserve it. Not really. If that’s what ah’m showin’ outside, what’s that mean about who ah am inside?”

Celestia took in a deep breath as bile rose in her throat. She swallowed it down, held it back, and smiled. “I think… it makes you a person.”

Applejack’s brow furrowed. Celestia extended a wing and wrapped it around her shoulders.

“You’re a person. A person who needs love from her friends and family. A person who wants good things for them. A person who has good days and bad days. A person who can be as sweet as an apple pie one moment, and as bitter as an apple seed the next. A person who’s met hardship head on and defeated it.”

Celestia lowered her head to Applejack’s level. “A person who’s fallen to hardships, but always had her friends to dig her out. You’re a flawed, beautiful, stubborn, brilliant person.”

Celestia grinned. “And not to brag, but so am I.”

Applejack met her grin. She reached forward and wrapped her forelegs around Celestia’s middle. “Thanks, Princess.”

Celestia hugged her back. “No, thank you. Without you, this meeting would not have gone as well as it did.”

“As well as it did?” Applejack said. “What, are you crazy? This went terrible!”

“Well, you know…” Celestia tapped her chin. “At least nobody died this time.”

“‘This’ time?” Applejack drew back in horror, but stopped when she caught the twinkle in Celestia’s eye. “Are you teasin’ me?”

“Princesses do not tease,” Celestia said. “They jest.”

Author's Note

So, planned sequels:

Scootaloo Will Fly
[Slice of Life][Romance]

This'll take place in near-future Ponyville, when the Cutie Mark Crusaders are in their late teens (the same time period as this story, actually). It'll feature Applejack acting as Lord Mayor of Ponyville on a number of occasions, and ambrosia will be quite plot-relevant indeed. It'll be roughly the same length as this story.

That Proverbial Step--Working Title
[Adventure][Romance]

The Aftermath

Fork in the Road

President Mangle of Beefland sat down hard at the head of the large carved table. He stared into the middle distance as servant cows and minotaurs attended to him. A bib was wrapped around his solid neck. A fork and a knife were levered gently into his clenched fists. A plate was placed before him, piled high with candied fruits and steaming vegetables. He didn’t register any of it.

“Sweet Udders of Goldie Calf, I said no.”

Izod lifted his head, a lettuce leaf hanging from between his teeth. His hat wobbled back and forth as his lone guard nudged it forth and back. “What?”

“The—the danged thing I said. It was no.” Mangle tried to prop his chin up on his hand, poked himself in the cheek with the fork, and settled for resting his chin on a flexed bicep. “I said no to Celestia.”

“Oh, that.” Izod munched on his lettuce leaf. Its crisp green skin crinkled and crunched before he swallowed the resulting mush. “What about it?”

“I said no.” Mangle’s chin threatened to slide down the side of his bicep. “I said no to Celestia.”

“That vhas three days agoo,” Seabreeze muttered. “Ponies have beelt castles in less time.”

The little High Pariah of Breezy Bastion limped his way across the table and snatched a sugary blueberry from Mangle’s bounty. “Doon’t wunt to let it goo to waste.”

Izod stared at Mangle’s plate for a second before he, too, absconded with a candied strawberry. “He’s taking it pretty hard.”

“I said no,” Mangle said, “to Celestia.”

The sunroof overhead creaked. Shardscale stuck her head inside. “To date, I have three pages worth of Mangle’s ‘I said no’ speech.”

“I said no.”

Shardscale scribbled. “And baby makes four.”

Izod grimaced as his hat dragged him over the side of his chair. His head popped back up sans hat, his robes fluttering. “Well, how do we snap him out of it?”

Seabreeze waved a hoof. “Slap him oontil he cooms to his senses!”

“Dunk his head in ice water?” Shardscale suggested.

“I said no.” Mangle’s expression changed. Rather than his thousand-yard stare, he had a raised eyebrow and a cocked lip. “I said no?”

His lips pressed together. “I said no to Celestia?”

Shard gritted her pointy teeth. “Oop. Hold on to your Houyhnhnms, folks. Here comes the storm.”

Mangle’s eyes lit up. “I said no to Celestia!” He grinned. “I said no to Celestia!”

He pumped his fist. “Oh yeah! All hail Prez Mangle, Beeflander supreme!” He pointed his index fingers at Seabreeze, who stumbled back at the force of the sudden change. “Mooyah! I said no to Celestia and she had to listen! Who’s the boss of the world now!?”

Izod ducked his head beneath the table. “Ahuh. Now he’s scary. When did Mangle get scary? When did he get scarier than Andean?”

Seabreeze glared up at Shard. “Now can I slap him, eyew oovergrown gecko?”

Shardscale stuck her long, snaking tongue out. “Give it five minutes, pipsqueak. He’ll run out of steam.”

“Steam?” Mangle stood up, sending his chair tumbling backward. He placed his hands on his hips and gave them his most heroic grin. It was maybe a little bit cheesy. “I’ll bet Celestia was pretty steamed when I gave her what-for! Ain’t nobody can tell ol’ Mangle M. Mangle what to do!”

Izod frowned. “Is his middle name Mangle, too?”

“No,” Shard said, “it’s Moocow.”

Seabreeze leaned on his tiny pair of crutches. “I’m gooing to slap him, now.”

Shardscale snarled. “Leave him alone.”

“What?” Seabreeze flicked his bushy tail. “Et’s noot like I can hurt him!”

“It’s the principle of the thing,” Shard replied. “He’s going through something right now.”

“Gooing through soomting?” Seabreeze’s eyes widened. His snout scrunched up. “Gooing through soomting?” He picked up a crutch and waggled it at Shard. “Loosing a looved oone is gooing through soomting. Facing an eelness is gooing through soomting. Puberty is gooing through soomting!”

Seabreeze spread his slightly wrinkly wings before Mangle. “Megalomania is noot gooing through—huh?”

Mangle had fallen silent. His grin was frozen on his face, his teeth grinding together. His well-toned muscles trembled beneath the skin. His eyes gazed at nothing and everything.

Shardscale cleared her throat. “Five… four… three… two…”

“I said no. To Celestia.”

Mangle folded like a cheap lawn chair.

Seabreeze walked to the edge of the table and looked down, his eyes lidded. Izod followed close behind, having returned his magnificent hat to its rightful perch on his head. Shardscale nodded sagely.

Mangle rolled himself into a ball. His hands clutched his knees tight, while his tail was tucked firmly between his legs. He shivered all over. “By the third and fourth stomachs… I said no to Celestia.”

“That.” Shardscale pointed a claw. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

“Hayeeeeeee,” Mangle screamed quietly. “She’s gonna drop the sun on us.”

“Um.” Seabreeze put his forehooves over the edge of the table. “Um…”

Izod tiptoed up to Mangle. After a second of silent contemplation, he placed a hoof on the minotaur’s shoulder. “There, there.”

He blinked up at Shardscale. “Am I doing this right? Should I be promising him candy if he shuts up?”

“He might be a little old for that,” she said.

“Oh.” Izod’s hat tilted forward and almost collapsed onto Mangle before the donkey caught it. “It always worked for me.”

“Oond oonce again, Izod becoomes the perfect moodle oof hooves-ooff parenting.” Seabreeze motioned to Aida the aide, who carried him down to the floor. He hobbled toward Mangle, his bandaged rear hooves thumping on the floor. “Now eyew leesten here, President! Celestia is noot gooing to drop the sun on eyew, she is noot gooing to sever ties with Beefland, and she’s noot gooing to stoop sending eyew birthday cards!”

Mangle lifted his head, his eyes bulging. “B-but I said no!”

“Eyes, eyew deed.” Seabreeze thumped a hoof. “Eyew said noo to Celestia. Eyew’re proobably the first person to say noo to Celestia in five-hundred years!”

Izod wobbled. “Well, Andean said no a lot—”

“Shut oop! I’m trying to make a point!” Seabreeze climbed up onto Mangle’s nose. “Eyew’re oone of the few to say noo.” He crossed his forelegs. “Maybe she needed it.”

Shardscale’s scaly eyebrows came together. “Hay, now.”

“Eyew can shut oop, too!” Seabreeze said. “Noopoony is willing to tell her when she’s goot a bad idea, oor when she’s stepping oover the line between caution and controol! Andean was right, she’s the oone who rules this world! Everypoony is afraid of her!”

Seabreeze chewed on his lower lip. His eyes fell to his hooves. “She’s noot infallible, and she fergets it. Vhee all ferget it. Maybe thees can help us remember.”

Scribble, scribble, scribble. “I think he was wrong to destroy the mirror.”

“That’s noot the point eyew insufferable, nitwitted cauldron!” Seabreeze bopped Mangle’s nose. “Eyes, that was a rideeculoosly stoopid moove. But the point is that maybe vhee can actually stand oop to Celestia when vhee need to!”

Mangle sat up, Seabreeze still balanced on his nose. He looked at the breezie cross-eyed. “I guess that’s—”

“But—” Izod raised a hoof and fell over backwards. “Oof! But when have we ever needed to do that?”

“She’s not especially a tyrannical dictator, you know,” Shard said.

“But she’s steell joost a poony.” Seabreeze tugged at his tight collar. “Joost like all oof us.”

He shrugged. “And vhee all make mistakes.”

Mangle’s shoulders drooped. “Some bigger than others.”

“Well, that goos without saying.” Seabreeze smirked. “After all, soompoony had to elect us.”

“I wasn’t elected,” Izod said.

“Me either,” Mangle said.

“Yeah, count me out on that one,” Shardscale said.

(*): Untranslatable breezie curse that accuses the target of distasteful moral standing and brings up its offensive halitosis.

Seabreeze’s teeth ground together. “Heffershuffer (*) democracies.”

Mangle let Seabreeze walk onto his finger and set him on the table. He set his chair upright and leaned on the armrest. “So, are we willing to take that kinda responsibility? Are we willing to be ready to tell Celestia no if we think she’s wrong?”

Izod blew a snort through his nose. “You already did.”

Mangle lowered his eyelids. “Yes, we discussed that.”

“Well I am!” Seabreeze plucked a raspberry off Mangle’s plate. “Vhee’re all leaders oond deeplomats for a reason! Vhee know how to run the world!” He nodded, his fluffy mane bobbing along. “If she wunts to advise us, she can advise us! If we doon’t think she’s right, we ignore her advice!”

Shard scratched her neck. “Ignoring advice is a bad, bad thing, even if you don’t agree with it. Take it from someone who hangs around dragons.”

Seabreeze dropped to his rump and held his hooves skyward. “Are eyew deleeberately ignoring all my points!?”

Shard’s teeth glinted in the light of the lanterns. “I take issue with the little details.”

“Alright, alright,” Mangle said. “Quit being pedantic. The fact remains.” He sat in his chair and touched one of his horns. “Can we agree to tell Celestia no when we need to? Can we agree to only do it when we know it’s important?”

The quiet extended to every corner of the room, save for the sound of Shardscale’s pen.

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

“No,” Izod said. “I can’t.”

When all eyes shot to him in surprise, he continued, “What right to I have to say no to somepony with her experience and wisdom? She’s been there since almost the beginning of everything. I’ve just been…”

His hat tumbled to the ground. He didn’t notice. “I’ve just been living under her shadow and doing what people tell me to do. It’s all I know. And that’s that.”

He rubbed his hooves together. “She’s not infallible, but she’s still amazing.”

Mangle rubbed his eyes. “And the roadblock materializes. Beefy.” He peered between his fingers. “You’re willing to make Lightninggale essentially an Equestrian protectorate?”

Izod squirmed. “Equestria does well with her in charge.”

Seabreeze popped his lips. “True. But it dooesn’t change anyting.”

Mangle looked up. “What about you, Shard? Or is telling a leader no against some kinda chronicler’s creed?”

“No such thing,” she said. “But if you ask me, I’m staying the heck out of this.”

Seabreeze squinted up at the minotaur. “Soo it’s joost eyew and me?”

Mangle sat back and looked around the room. “Unless the zebras suddenly decide to head back to Beefland and visit, looks like.”

Seabreeze spat on his hoof and held it out. “Then let’s doo it.”

Mangle raised an eyebrow. He mirrored Seabreeze with his fist and held it close to the breezie. The hoofbump was performed, and the promise sealed.

Izod blinked as their saliva mingled. “Ew.”

“Yeah,” Shardscale said, “definitely not getting in on any of that action.”

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

Biblical Truths

“And the Lord opened the mouth of the ass, and she said unto Balaam, What have I done unto thee, that thou hast smitten me these three times?”

Megan read over the passage again. Her eyes tracked over the entire story, how a prophet’s donkey had fallen out from under him to prevent an angel from slaying them both. How the donkey had gained the ability to speak and argue, even for just a brief moment.

“Pa, you said that everything in the Bible is true.” Megan peered through the cloth covering the wagon to stare at the man driving their oxen. “Right?”

Jeremiah Williams pulled his pipe out of his mouth. “I believe it is, darling. Why do you ask?”

Megan closed the Bible and placed it atop another book she’d been reading, a collection of Aesop’s Fables. Another book with talking animals. “Because that creature that brought me back, that pony, she spoke to me.”

Jeremiah turned his head. His long, scruffy beard was coated with dust. His skin was dark and dry from the hours of direct sunlight. His nose was crooked from younger, wilder days.

His eyes sparkled. “So the good Lord still opens mouths, then?”

“I think it was my ears that were opened.” Megan twiddled her thumbs. “If that makes sense.”

The prairie schooner jolted. Jeremiah put a hand on the side of the wagon to keep from tumbling over. “What did the pony say to you?”

“She said her name is Applejack,” Megan said. “She said she was gonna get me home, no matter what.” Her fingers traced along the cover of Aesop’s Fables. “And then she did.”

Jeremiah frowned. His eyes scanned the terrain which was just starting to level out. “You died, Megan. You were dead, gone over the cliff with the horses. I think I about died with you.” He blinked rapidly a few times. “But now you aren’t. Now you’re alive again. I get the feeling that I’m liable to believe that a horse can talk, too.”

Megan wrapped her arms around her legs. “There were others, too. Some of them spoke. Big creatures with wings. Tall men with horns. A… donkey with a big hat.”

Her father blew a smoke ring. He watched it float away across the fields. “Sounds like angels sent to protect you.” He squinted. “Except for that last one.”

“They weren’t angels.” Megan ran her fingers through her hair until they got caught in a tangle. “They… made mistakes. They argued. They fought. They acted like…”

She watched her father closely. “Like our neighbors back home.”

“Is Megan seeing things again?” her brother said from beside the wagon. “Is she delirious? Does she need more water?”

“I’m not delirious!”

“She’s fine, Daniel.” Jeremiah kept a tight grip on the reigns. “Go see how Ma’s doing, okay?”

Daniel grumbled as he walked away.

“I believe you, Megan,” Jeremiah said. “But other folks don’t know what you went through. What we all went through. Do you understand?”

Megan rested her chin on her knees. “They’ll think I’m insane.”

“And you aren’t.” He reached a hand back and gripped her shoulder. “You’re the nicest, smartest, prettiest little lady in the west, you hear?” He returned his hand to driving. “But people… can be mighty hard to come to understand.”

Megan pulled herself through the wagon to sit by her father’s side. She rested her head on his shoulder. “I have to keep it inside, don’t I? I can’t tell anyone.”

Jeremiah kissed her on the top of her head. “There’ll come a time when you can talk about it. There’ll come a time when people will see what you’ve got to say is true. Maybe this year, maybe a few years down the line, the truth ’ll come out.”

He sighed as the sun dipped towards the horizon. “Until then, just be careful, darling.”

“I will, Pa.”

They continued towards the sunset at the sedate pace of the oxen. Their new home waited for them, a land of fertile soil and lush greens. Away from the grime and soot of the towns. Away from everything they’d ever known. Their guide, Bartholomew, waited up ahead, having picked out a camp for the night.

“I’m gonna find Applejack again someday,” Megan said. “Even if it takes me years. I’m gonna find her and I’m gonna thank her.”

“Be sure to thank her for me, too,” Jeremiah said. “I owe her a lot.”

Megan laced her fingers around his. “I’m just not sure where to start looking.”

“I got one idea,” Jeremiah said. “And that’s that you aren’t gonna go back the way you came.”

Megan frowned. “Why’s that?”

“Things might happen twice, sure enough,” he said, “but never in exactly the same way.”

They reached the campsite and dismounted the wagon. Jeremiah tied up the oxen while Megan put supper together. Her mother, Elyse Williams, walked up with Daniel in tow. She carried a few edible plants in a basket. “Here are some herbs for supper, dear,” Elyse said. “Bartholomew says the roots make for good soup.”

Daniel sat next to Megan as she mixed up the ingredients. He wrinkled his nose. “Hardtack again?”

“It’s hardtack or rocks, Danny.” Megan snapped a piece of the hard cracker in half. “Although, the rocks probably aren’t as hard.”

Daniel laughed. He watched their father build a fire for the middle of the camp. Wagons rolled all around as they formed a protective circle. “Are you alright, Meg?”

Megan focused on the soup. “You keep asking me that and I keep answering the same.”

Daniel popped his knuckles. “I want to hear it from your mouth. Are you alright?”

“Quit popping your fingers, you’re distracting me.” She added a bit of precious water to the mixture. “And I’m fine.”

He drew in the dirt with a finger. “Are you sure? You keep talking about what you saw, but none of it is possible.”

“No. All of it is new.” She pouted. “There’s a difference.”

She lifted her pot and carried it over to the fire. “Besides, you saw Applejack, too. Was she just my imagination?”

Daniel sighed. He took off his hat and mussed his hair. “No. She wasn’t.”

Sometime after supper, the sky was dark and starry. The fire burned bright as rifle-wielding men kept watch on the camp from without. Elyse brought out her hammer dulcimer and played a tune as the pioneers sang. Megan snuggled herself in her blankets beneath the wagon, guarding against the coming morning dew.

She giggled when Jeremiah pulled Elyse into a dance. They gave Bartholomew the dulcimer to play. Several others joined in the merry twirl, despite the aches and pains of the day.

Megan rolled over to face away. They had cause to celebrate. They were mere days away from the land they’d purchased. She herself couldn’t wait to start building her new home.

She stared out into a darkness that held who knew what? Natives, mountain lions, rattlesnakes, any other number of things that could kill them. And also, another world with more things that wanted to kill her.

But also friends.

Malevolent Medley

A wight crept out of a tomb. The fog covering the barrow downs of Beefland acted as a perfect cloak for its approach. Its malformed nose twitched, directing it to an intruder.

Or perhaps a meal.

It had taken the form of the legendary Minotaur Lord Spearpoint, and had appropriated his namesake trademark for its own use. His bared ribcage, in reality his disguised belly and chest, whistled in the low wind. His gangly, white limbs reached out and gently pulled a scraggly bush to the side.

There was a quadruped creature covered in a long, hooded cape. A pony, then. Or a zebra. Or a donkey. The wight slobbered; all of those choices sounded delicious.

It crept around the crumbled barrow of Wrathshield. That used to be its home, before a whole gaggle of intruders assaulted it and sent it crumbling to the ground. It had served the wight decently over the years, and it was a shame to see it go. Still, there were plenty of barrows in the downs. Plenty of places to hide. Plenty of dark places from which to spring.

The wight’s prey stood before the demolished tomb. The four-legged something stuck a hoof out and dug through the debris until it found a hole leading downward. It nodded in satisfaction and crawled through.

The wight drooled. Nowhere for the good eats to run!

It stretched and morphed like rubber as it followed the pony into the heart of the demolished tomb. It left its spear outside after finding it would not fit. It slithered and slunked and snarled. It squinted its black eyes and caught sight of its target.

It was for sure a pony, judging by the size and shape of its hooves. A delicacy. It lifted its forelegs aloft as it pushed stones aside, searching for something. Its tan coat was covered in dirt and dust.

The wight moaned as it staggered out of the mist, looking for all the world like a half-decayed zombie minotaur. It reached out its hands to grasp the trapped pony.

There was a flash, a snap, and the wight felt lightning course through its limbs. It screamed in agony as it fell to the ground, shivering all the while.

“Ahh-ah-ah, ahhh-ah.”

A voice sang out from beneath the hood. The pony shook its head. It was then that the wight’s eyes were drawn to the glowing orb floating before the pony. It was attached to the pony’s neck by a golden chain, forming a sort of necklace. Magic energy flowed from the orb to the wight, giving it a jolt every time the pony hit a note.

“Ahh-ah-ah, ahhh-ah.”

The pony lifted the wight aloft in the magic currents. It turned around, leaving the monster to wiggle helplessly. The pony returned to its previous task of digging through the rubble.

“Me and you, you and me,” the pony sang, “it’s plain to see who is better.”

The pony tapped a hoof against the ground. The magic dropped the wight on its face and moved to hold a small glass fragment up. It reflected the yellow light of the orb.

“Equestria thinks we’re one and the same thing.”

The pony pulled off its hood, revealing a gray mane to go with its tan coat. She took the glass in her hooves and admired her reflection. The glass was formed into a perfect triangle, all sides and angles equal down to the minutest fraction.

“But what’s so wrong with a magical reflection?”

Miss Merry Mare, former Lord Mayor of Ponyville, gave the wight a wink.

“’Cause with this thing, I’m winning an election!”

Author's Note

Surprise!

I hope this is a good surprise and not a "Hay, didn't you already end this you jerk?" surprise. This is the result of a few months of flip-flopping on whether or not I liked the ending much. I mean, I liked the ending, I just knew there was a lot left to cover.

The problem was that the rest of the story was written from Applejack and Celestia's perspective, so to suddenly switch to Mangle, Megan, and Ex-Mayor Marey Mare was a big break in perspective.

As you can see, I settled accounts by making it a slightly separated epilogue thingy. And I think it's pretty neat.

Mangle's story was adapted from my idea for the Outside Insight contest from a few weeks back, a story about ponies from another creature's perspective. Megan's scenes showcase a bit more of her character and illuminate why she acted the way she did (a little). Marey Mare, well, what good story starts a series and doesn't leave a sequel hook?

I hope you've enjoyed this story. I promise there won't be any more chapters... until, you know, the next story in the series. :ajsmug:

I've also edited the first chapter to make it a little less... out of character for Celestia. She's not constantly bursting at the seams. In my defense, I wrote that when I was ill. In my anti-defense, I edited it when I was better. Take a look.

The Caliber of a Hat * The Bounty of a Meal * The Limitations of a Father

You could tell a lot about a person from the hat they wore.

Izod the Immense’s hat said four principle things. The size of the hat practically shouted: “I am important! Pay attention!” The materials used within the hat—plentiful gold, platinum, and jewels—said: “I am rich! Very, very stinking rich!” They way it constantly swayed back and forth in the air as Izod strained to lift it with his scrawny neck muscles said: “I don’t trust you to understand how very rich and important I am if I don’t wear this hat.”

The way the hat shimmered in the lamplight said: “Don’t pay attention to that last one.”

Applejack paid attention, however, to both the hat and the way Aspen the Alliterative hovered behind Izod, muscles tense to catch it should it fall.

“Ah, Izod.” Mangle popped one last knuckle and proffered his fist. “Good to see you again.”

“Where is it!?” Izod said. He ignored the fist and moved his head around Mangle’s bulk. “I want to see it!”

“Surprises never cease,” Celestia mumbled. To the donkey, she said, “See what, Izod?”

“Dooon’t you play games with me, Princess!” Izod hopped, rattling the gemstones in his hat. “President Mangle called us here to show us something! I want to see it!”

“I suspect you shall get your turn soon enough, my Lord,” Aspen said. He sighed softly through his nostrils and tugged at his purple tunic.

Applejack lowered an eyebrow. She cast a glance to the rear to see the creature’s reaction to the hullabaloo. It had jumped behind the chair the instant the donkeys had barged into the room. It looked at them over the lip of the seat, eyes wide.

(*): Meaning that Izod got about waist-high on Mangle. Bipeds and their verticality, I tell you what...

“Well? Where is it?” Izod trotted up to Mangle and pushed his face as close to the minotaur’s as possible (*). “We don’t have all day!”

“No,” Mangle said, “but this might take all week.”

Izod mashed his lips together in a frown. He looked from Celestia to Mangle with the air of someone who had finished a puzzle only to find the last piece stolen. He then looked at Celestia with the air of discovering who had stolen that piece. “Why is this going to take that long?”

Since the question was directed at her, Celestia really couldn’t avoid answering. She set her jaw on edge as she addressed the donkey. “It’s a new Sapience.”

“A what?” Izod tilted a little too far to the right. His hat aided him in a sideways dance, at least until Aspen caught it in his hooves. With a little help from his advisor, the Lord of Lightninggale was righted. “What’s so important about hay pence?”

“Sapience, my Lord,” Aspen whispered into his ear. The advisor’s voice wasn’t completely lost in the folds of Izod’s ear, and managed to drift across the room. “It’s a creature with the ability to reason. The capacity for knowledge and wisdom both.”

Izod the Immense nodded. He soon regretted it, as his hat tumbled forward over his eyes. “Like donkeys, then.”

“Very much like donkeys, my Lord.” Aspen lifted the hat off of Izod’s head with an audible “plunk.”

Izod turned his glare to Mangle. “So where is it?”

Mangle valiantly kept his face straight as he pointed wordlessly to the other side of the room. Applejack resisted the urge to place herself between the donkeys and the creature. Instead, she slid herself a little closer to Celestia’s side.

Izod hobbled forward under the watchful gaze of Aspen. The advisor raised an eyebrow as he passed Applejack, running a scrutinizing eye along her legs, flanks, cutie mark, head, and hat. He lingered on her hat, and Applejack met his gaze unwaveringly. He nodded and proceeded on his way.

Izod glared at the eyes that peered over the chair. “Well, speak up! What’s your name?”

No answer came, except that the eyebrows above the eyes lowered slightly.

“We haven’t been able to figure out its language,” Mangle said.

“Then find a way to teach it our language!” Izod said. “When are the zebras coming?”

Celestia’s muzzle scrunched up as her ears twitched.

“What’s wrong with the zebras, Yer Majesty?” Applejack asked.

“Nothing at all,” Celestia said quickly and quietly. “Nothing at all.”

“I’m sure they’ll get here.” Mangle coughed into his elbow. “They, um, they have a really beefy distance to travel, you know?”

Izod spun back on the creature. “Well, let’s get a look. Come on, get out here!”

The creature, unsurprisingly, didn’t budge.

“I’m waiting!” Izod snapped.

“Hay!” Applejack snapped back. “If it couldn’t understand yah before, what makes you think it’ll understand yah now!?”

Izod turned. Slowly. Painfully. Wobbly. He gave Applejack the same notice he might give a slice of cheese on the sidewalk: Something to be walked around. “Celestia.”

Celestia tilted her head up. “Izod?”

“Reign in your help.” Izod turned back to the creature. “They’re getting a little uppity.”

Applejack opened her mouth to speak, but then chanced a glance at the princess. Celestia’s frown wrinkled the sides of her mouth, deepened the corners of her eyes, and pulled the tips of her ears down. She looked at Applejack and shook her head.

“Aspen,” Izod said, “bring it out here.”

“That… may not be wise, my Lord.”

Izod whipped his head around. He did it so quickly that the momentum gripped his hat and continued pulling him in a circle. He spun on his hooves, his legs twisting beneath him. He dropped to the ground, but not before Aspen plucked the hat off of his head.

“Thank you, Aspen,” Izod mumbled through the carpet.

“You are quite welcome, my Lord,” Aspen replied.

Izod stood and stuck his head into the suspended hat. He frowned at the creature and beckoned it forth with a hoof. The creature shook its head.

“Well,” Celestia said. “Perhaps body language is the universal language.”

Izod walked around the chair, and the creature went around as well, keeping the seat between itself and the donkey.

“Don’t think so,” Mangle said. “I got a cousin who got in trouble when he moved south. He waved his fingers, like so”—Mangle held up three fingers—“’cause that’s how we say ‘hey’ up here.”

Applejack tilted her head. “What’s it mean down south?”

“Turns out he’d been calling everybody a cripple.” Mangle snorted. “They tied his legs together and sent him back here.”

Applejack pushed her hat further up on her head. “Kinda harsh.”

“Not really,” Mangle said with a shrug. “I’d have broke their leg, personally.”

Applejack’s green eyes widened. “Whoa, Nelly. Remind me not to get you grumpy, okay?”

Mangle smirked. “I think Celestia would bring the sun down on my head if I even thought about it. Right, Princess?”

Applejack looked up at the princess. Celestia kept her eyes on Izod’s chase, as if she hadn’t heard the president.

Applejack decided to leave her be. “Seriously?” she asked Mangle in a whisper.

He shrugged. “Sure. You don’t rule a kingdom for a thousand years without some serious beefsteaks.”

Applejack sucked on her bottom lip. “How long’ve you been in office?”

“’Bout five years, give or take.” Mangle counted on his fingers. “Yeah. Five. Got a ten year term before they shuffle me out.”

“Kinda like Equestrian mayors, huh?”

“Maybe.” Mangle chuckled as Izod tripped on the hem of his robes, causing a chain reaction with his hat that sent him tipping towards Aspen. “We don’t got an election like you, though. We got a contest.”

“Contest?” Applejack asked. Aspen and Izod crumpled to a heap on the floor, but Celestia had managed to snag the hat in a wave of golden magic. “You chose your presidents in a contest? Really?”

“Eh.” Mangle wiggled his thumb and pinkie in the air. “Each city chooses a rep, then the reps have a bunch of tests to go through. Feats of strength, historical exams, that kind of beef.”

“Weird.” Applejack blinked. “Sorry, ah mean—”

“That’s okay.” Mangle smiled. “Ideas are weird things. You’re supposed to think about them. You’re supposed to question them. Then you can decide on them.” His smile disappeared. “If you’re worried about insulting me, just ’member one thing: A minotaur’s body is a temple, and you don’t go insulting a minotaur’s temple.”

Applejack eyed the way his muscles flexed when he said “temple.” “Got it.”

The creature ran from Izod as the donkey got to his feet. “Aspen! Grab it!”

Aspen sighed and made a half-hearted lunge towards the creature. It jumped away from his reach, surprisingly agile on two feet. Its blanket, wrapped around its shoulders, billowed out behind it as it ran past Celestia.

Izod stood and ran beneath the hat that still hovered in midair. “After it, Aspen!” he roared. “Catch it!”

Celestia stuck out a hoof, barring the Lord of Lightninggale’s way. “I don’t think that will be necessary, Izod.”

The creature had taken refuge amongst the cow-friendly cushions. It once again peered at the assembled dignitaries, its head wrapped in its blanket.

Izod bared his teeth and shot Celestia a glare. When his eyes met the princess’, however, his gaze softened. Chilled. He took a few steps back, and Applejack suspected that, under his robes, his tail was tucked between his legs.

“How long’s Izod been… Lord of Lightninggale?” she asked.

“Since he was three,” Mangle replied.

“Makes sense.”

“Yup.”

Celestia “plunked” the hat down on Izod’s head. “Perhaps you would like to take a rest after your long trip?”

“Perhaps,” Izod said.

“Should we retire to lunch?” Celestia asked with a dagger-point-keen look at Mangle.

“We probably should, you know,” Mangle said. “Been a long day.”

President Mangle led the way out of the room, and Care and Caution fell in behind the procession. They had been joined by a donkey guard, who hefted a gilded spear across his back.

Aida, the cow aide, stayed behind as they filed out. Applejack looked back at her and noticed a tray of fruit balanced on her back. She placed it inside the room, made a tisking noise at the creature, and then closed the door.

Applejack also noticed the heavy lock Aida fastened to the door.

“Hay,” Applejack whispered to Celestia, “you’ve really got these guys’ number, huh?”

Celestia said nothing for a moment. She bent down until her head was level with Applejack’s. “‘Speak softly and raise the sun,’ so they say.”

“Princess Celestia carries a lot of respect with her,” Aspen said in a low voice. Applejack hadn’t even noticed he was slowing down to walk beside her. “She has ruled for far longer than most of us have been alive.”

Celestia gave him a small smile, then pulled ahead to stand between Izod and Mangle.

Aspen watched her go, and then tugged at the gold band around his tunic. “She keeps the peace at these meetings, more often than not.”

Applejack snorted. “Like some kind of playground monitor or somethin’?”

“That’s a very… interesting way to look at it.” Aspen tilted his head towards her. “And I won’t say you’re wrong.”

His ears tilted back. “You strike me as very different from the usual mayors that Celestia brings on these trips.”

“How’s that?”

Aspen’s eyes drew across her hat once more. “You don’t care much for appearances, do you?”

Applejack’s jaw dropped. She whipped her hat off and snarled. “Now just what in the hay is that—?”

“Not physical appearances,” Aspen said in a clipped voice.

Izod glanced back at the raised voices, scoffed, and then turned his attention back to keeping balance.

“How others see you.” Aspen lowered his voice to nearly imperceptible levels. “You are not as eager to please as most others.”

She returned her hat to its proud perch atop her mane. “Should ah be?”

“Maybe.”

Aspen looked around the hallway. Applejack hadn’t paid too much attention, but now that she did, she realized that the walls were sparse. There wasn’t so much as a single painting, and there were no windows this far inside the oval building.

“You’re not the type these people usually associate with,” Aspen said. “I would tone it back quite a bit. Some of the leaders will not appreciate your lip.”

“Like ‘His Immenseness,’ huh?” Applejack blew a breath between her lips. “Ah think ah can handle somep—somebody not liking me.”

Aspen frowned. “Let it be your funeral, then, Lord Mayor.”

He hovered in behind the Lord of Lightninggale just in time to tilt the hat’s balance a little more to the fore. Applejack watched as he slid this way and that, giving the hat just enough of a nudge to correct its wobble.

Celestia looked back at her and gave her an encouraging smile, a smile that tried to say that there was nothing to be worried about. Applejack had a sneaking suspicion that Celestia’s smile, if not the princess herself, was lying.

The table was decoratively carved, similarly to the chairs in the sitting rooms. In fact, it put many sculptures back in Equestria to shame with sheer intricacy. It stretched nearly all the way across the long room. It was also, much to Applejack’s astonishment, carved from a single block of wood.

“If that don’t beat all,” she gasped. “Ah didn’t even know trees grew that big.”

“You gotta wait a long, long time,” Mangle said. “This tree here was about a thousand years old and big as a mountain. It took Ripshred the best years of his life to carve it.”

Applejack’s brow furrowed. “Don’t tell me you took down a whole tree just for this table.”

(1): It was either provocative or constipated. Probably both.

(2): One was a chimera, which Applejack knew was not at all mythological. Another was a hippogriff, which may or may not be genetically possible. The last was a platypus, which was both completely silly and utterly terrifying.

“Nope.” Mangle pointed to the four corners of the room. One held a carved minotaur in a strange pose (1), while the other three contained mythological creatures (2). “See those sculptures? Ripshred originals, all of them. The chairs, too. His ancestors planted the tree hoping for a master sculptor to come somewhere down the line. That was his tree, you see.”

“I am ready to eat!”

Celestia, Applejack, Mangle, and Aida looked across the room. Their eyes fell upon Izod and his advisor. Izod sat tall, his hat almost meeting the same height as the back of his chair. A fork was clenched between his hooves, which he tapped against the table.

Aida gave Mangle a strained look. He shrugged and nodded. She sighed and walked out a side door, behind which Applejack heard the telltale noises of a kitchen at work.

“Um, go ahead and sit wherever,” Mangle said. “Plenty of seats. Right?”

“Sure thing, Prez.” Applejack kept close beside Celestia as the princess slid down the length of the room.

Celestia took a seat across from Izod and smiled at him. Izod blinked, continuing to tap his fork against the table. As Celestia smiled, his fork-tapping slowed. He stopped, put the fork on the table, and looked away.

Applejack guffawed, even as Aspen gave her a disapproving glance. Before she could think of something to say, the food was brought out on rolling trays. Apples were sliced and stacked into towers of fruit. Peaches were quartered and arranged in blossoms on plates. Strawberries were dipped into chocolate, and everything was served with optional brie.

“Shoot,” Applejack said. “This is lunch?”

“It’s a big deal, us coming to visit,” Celestia said. She accepted a plate of mixed fruit from the minotaur server with a nod. “Don’t you bring out your best china when family comes around?”

“No, ’cuz it’d be broken by the end of the day.” Applejack smirked. “Ah get what yer sayin’ though. Guess we are kinda special ponies.”

Celestia sucked some of the residual juice out of a peach quarter before popping it into her mouth. “Mm. I’ve always known you were, Applejack. I just hope you realize it from time to time.”

Applejack chewed an apple, made a face, swallowed hard, and then focused on the strawberries. She was about to pop a chocolate-covered delight into her mouth, when she felt Izod’s eyes on her. She looked up at the donkey just in time to see him not-look-at-her-at-all-whatever-do-you-mean. She watched as he ate the inside of a peach quarter and left the skin sitting on the side.

She shrugged and went back to enjoying the bounty.

Care trotted in from her flanking position at the door. “President Mangle? I’ve been told that the swarm has arrived.”

Mangle’s lips did a silly little jiggle. “Buh-bwah… You’re gonna have to be a little more specific.”

Care’s nose twitched. “Breezies.”

Applejack felt the least bit prepared for the new arrival. She had actually met him before, years ago. Though Fluttershy had spent much more time with him than anypony else.

Yes, Seabreeze was a “him.” The breezies were an astonishingly androgynous species.

The small—minuscule, really—pony flew around the dining hall on gossamer wings. His curly pink mane, much like Pinkie Pie’s, puffed out like a tuft of cloud. The black, form-fitting suit he wore clamped tight around his blue coat, and displayed his insect-thin legs for all to see.

“Whoot the heck is everypony munching on greens fer?!” he shouted. “Vhee hev a crisis on oor hooves!”

“Pariah Seabreeze,” Celestia said, “wouldn’t you like to have a bite to eat?”

“No I whood not!” he snapped. “If there is indeed a new Sapience, then vhee need to figure it out now!”

“The Sapience is comfortable and contained,” Celestia said. She held a peach quarter beside Seabreeze’s head. It was almost as big as his whole body. “And we have plenty of time for pleasantries. Sit. Eat. Talk.”

“Don’t eyew try eyewr alicorn mind tricks on me, Princess!” He pushed the peach away with a spindly hoof. “I can’t joost sit and watch while the world goos to gale in a hailstorm!”

The peach floated back with an insistent look from Celestia. Seabreeze crossed his forelegs and turned his head away. “Are eyew gooing to joost wave the food around, oor are eyew gooing to do something aboot the Sapience?”

“Both.” Celestia drew the peach to her mouth and munched on it. “Can’t we do both?”

“No!” Seabreeze shouted. “Maybe!”

Celestia smiled. “Strawberry?”

Seabreeze sneered. “Shoor. Why not?”

It took all four of his legs to hold the chocolaty confection. He settled down on the table and sulked as he ate.

Applejack leaned over the table. “Howdy, Seabreeze.”

His eyebrows dipped down until a faint spark of recognition entered his eyes. “Eyew are froom Ponyville, ja? Woon of the ponies that led us back hoom?”

“Eeyup.” She grinned. “Applejack’s the name. Been a while, huh? You’re some sort of leader now?”

“High Pariah of Breezy Bastion,” Seabreeze said. He pressed his lips against the strawberry and nodded. “Eeyes. That’s me.”

Applejack saw Mangle sitting at the far side of the table. He had a couple of breezies perched on his shoulder. They were mumbling back and forth in the breezie language.

“Doesn’t ‘pariah’ mean outcast?” she asked. “Or somethin’ worse?”

“Eeyes,” Seabreeze said, a bit more forcefully than the last time. “That’s me. That’s whoo I am. I am separated froom my people, only so that I may bring us closer to the outside world.” He shrugged and bit a chunk off of the strawberry. “Soomtimes I think that’s a bad idea.”

Applejack glanced at Izod out of the corner of her eye. “Better the draconequus you know…”

“Bah.” Seabreezie waved a tiny hoof. “A draconequus proobably won’t kill eyew by sitting doon.”

The image of a breezie splattered across Discord’s butt flashed through Applejack’s mind. She banished it like a nightmare to the moon. “Naw. He’d make it a lot more… crazy-like than that. Convoluted, that’s the word. Like a big old funhouse of pain, or somethin’.”

Seabreeze’s eyebrow shot up. “Whoot? Eyew know a draconequus?”

“Discord’s… kinda a friend?” Applejack shrugged. “Maybe?”

“A friend.”

“Eeyup?”

“With a draconequus.”

“Eeyup?”

Seabreeze’s butterfly-esque antennae twitched. “Eyew’re dribbling on my garden.”

Applejack blinked. “Beg pardon?”

“Eyew…” Seabreeze pointed at her with a strawberry-stained hoof. He let it plop down on the table. “Eyew’re serious.”

“Yeah.” Applejack bit down on a peach to give her mouth something else to do.

Seabreeze sat for a moment, before calling out to the breezies on Mangle’s arm. A cute, light orange girl-breezie fluttered over with a teeny-weeny, turquoise boy-breezie in tow.

“Lord Mayor Applejack”—Seabreeze pointed at the orangeish girl—“allow me to introduce my darling wife, Dandelion”—he wrapped his foreleg around the little boy’s shoulders—“and my bold son, Crisperfall.”

Applejack grinned. “Howdy, Dandelion, Crisperfall. Pleasure to make yer acquaintance.”

Crisperfall spoke in a voice that made Applejack desperately want to coo and make baby noises. “Can I grow that beeg when I grow up, Papa?”

“Ah…” Seabreeze turned his head away and gritted his teeth. “Maybe if eyew always eat eyewr wheat.”

“Dang,” Crisperfall said. “I guess not.”

Applejack snorted in her efforts to hold back a snicker. “Ah always had trouble eatin’ wheat myself.”

Crisperfall glared at his father accusingly. Dandelion rolled her eyes, gathered him up in her legs and started to fly away. “Meen pargden. Kerby gersg whipperdin.”

“Ma-ma!” Crisperfall wailed as he was dragged through the air.

Seabreeze sighed, his entire body drooping in midflight. “Thank eyew kindly fer making my hoom life that mooch moore difficult.”

Applejack’s eyes darted between Dandelion and Seabreeze. “Sorry. Ah didn’t mean nothin’.”

Seabreeze returned to the table and sucked a bit of juice out of the strawberry. “Noo. Noo, eyew did not. It’s not eyewr fault.” He growled into the fruit. “It’s joost that Crisperfall is at that age where he’s watching everything I say and doo to see if I’m ever wrong.”

He pointed a hoof at Applejack. “And joost guess how often that is.”

Applejack sucked in a breath. “Ah hesitate to say ‘probably a lot.’”

Seabreeze nodded.

“Ah went through that with mah lil’ sis, Apple Bloom.” Applejack pushed her plate a few inches away from her spot at the table. A minotaur scooped it up before she could blink. “Girl had a stubborn streak a mile wide.” She tapped her hooves together. “A lot like me, ah guess.”

“Hmm. There’s the problem.” Seabreeze took to the air and flittered around. “He’s got too mooch of his papa in heem.”