One Horn Too Many

He opened his eyes slowly, throughout the painful agony his head was inflicting on him.

His senses were still a blur, a strange combination of strong scents and faint noises, all mixing together over what little light he could make out in this place.

It was not the crypt. This place was much too different. For starters, he could feel a breeze brushing against him… strangely.

It was… wrong. The sensation registered differently. The wind should have been a caress directly against his skin, or over his clothes. This felt like neither.

Like wind on hair. All over his body.

Wrong.

The wrongness grew within his mind and his daze started to fade away. What had happened? What had happened when the Frenchie had touched the statue?!

In a frenzy, Edward’s lifted himself on his hooves, in the hopes of getting a better view of his surroundings and his current situation.

But he froze midway through, then slowly looked down. A flurry of thoughts pounded at his addled mind.

Had he finally gone completely mental, were the Hindu right in assuming death involved becoming something else entirely?

“...What?”

He brought the flat appendage against his face and found that it felt very different from his actual body. Slowly, he twisted his neck around, allowing him to see the rest of himself, of a grey color not unlike the stone structure they were in.

The idea wormed itself through his thoughts. He had recognized that scenario. The concept had been enunciated by others before him. Bloody hell, they had been wished for by some bronies he had talked to before.

Turning into a pony.

“No, you’ve got to be kidding me, this is impossible...”

“E-Edward?”

Surprised, he turned in an instant, coming face to face with a pony he had not seen before. Not in the show, not ever. Rather, he had never became aware of ponies with two horns in the My Little Pony universe, though now that he saw it… there were two strange weights on top of his own head. He had the same attributes.

The voice… It had been Pierre’s voice, coming from the body of this unknown reddish stallion. Just next to him, there was a marble object looking down on them both.

Everything clicked. There was only one way this could have happened.

He struck, pushed against the statue with all his might, as best as he could. But the stone would not move. It remained cold and still under his hooves and indifferent to his growing despair. Whereas it had enthralled one of them before, transported them both here and changed them, it was now nothing more than the realization of a terrible nightmare.

It could not be real. It simply could not.

“Un rêve… un rêve… un cauchemar...”

He had known Pierre enough to know the meaning of the words, despite his lack of knowledge of French. He would have to be blind and deaf not to when the former human looked blankly to the ground muttering to himself.

Feeling sorry for himself.

For a reason he couldn’t completely explain, this only fanned the flames of his rage harder.

“What are you acting sorry for?!” He stomped, glaring at his companion. “This is all your fault!”

Pierre’s eyes widened while his jaw dropped. The tone he used next was even higher pitched than usual. “Excuse me?!”

Some distant part of him thought he was being unfair. A bit. Perhaps. But there was such burning anger running through his veins, it felt as if the edges of his sight would blur.

His hoof pointed straight at the Frenchie’s chest, and he growled in accusation, “If you hadn’t spontaneously developed a horse statue fetish, we wouldn’t be here!”

“Pardon?! I could have sworn you were the one that led us into the crypt! Maybe I hallucinated that part, along with you leaving the group when we were visiting the Acropolis!”

“Says the guy who can’t keep his hands to himself. You can lead a horse to water, but it takes a real git to turn that water into a labyrinth of death.”

“I didn’t turn anything into…! I... ” Pierre’s breath hitched up, and he looked down, his eyes wide with a haunting terror. “I don’t remember… You were saying something and the statue was there… The light...”

For a moment, Edward remained silent, frowning. He had noticed the dead look in his friend’s eyes then. In retrospect, he would call it his natural look, but no, this was indeed very strange. Pierre hadn’t reacted to his shout. There truly had been a trance of sort involved.

Yet, right now, neither he nor the silent stallion before him felt any attraction to that thrice cursed block of marble. It was just that, a statue.

Shaking off his head and the most of his fear, Pierre looked up to him. “...What’s going on, Edward?”

“Do you really believe I have the faintest?” he asked bitterly.

“...Okay… t-then, what do we do?” Pierre’s voice was quiet, subdued… defeated. “If… if this is real, what can we do about it? I… our families will wonder where we are, what happened to us! No one will know where we went!”

“I know all that, Pierre!” Edward growled. “Believe me when I say I realize that we have apparently become weird ponies in a castle in the middle of what I assume is the Everfree Forest, which is clearly not on Earth! The consequences are not lost on me!”

His last words echoed in the ensuing silence, reverberating with a strange tone, distorted as their bodies had been. The sound slowly faded away while the two stared at one another, one in anger, the other with a light appearing in his gaze. Finally, it seemed to sink in for the French stallion, and he stood up.

“Alright. We’re going blind. So what do we do?” he asked again, but with a bit more strength.

Edward’s eyes narrowed on the statue. “I believe we can agree this thing is useless to us. I’ve touched it, yet nothing happened, nor did it try to enthrall us as it did before. Thus, we need to move out of this place to find a solution. If I am correct, this is the Castle of the Two Sisters, in the Everfree. There should be a path for us to follow all the way to Ponyville. We’ll decide the rest once we have reached it and spoken to Twilight. Agreed?”

“O-okay, we can try that.” Pierre nodded.

“Then let us go. There is no time to lose. I do not wish for this experience to last.”

And with that statement, Edward turned on his hooves, heading on the path he felt would lead to the exit. They were in a great hall of sort, with a pair of thrones on one end that seemed vaguely familiar. It had been a hint to their location, he had reasoned earlier, though now that he thought about it, he could not help feel a nagging sensation at the back of his mind.

It was neither the time nor the place to ponder that sort of things. They needed to get to Ponyville as quickly as possible. Thus, with Pierre in tow, he headed straight for the first staircase he saw, intent on getting to ground level and leaving. However, just as he would have taken the first step inside it, a powerful shiver ran up his leg to his shoulder.

He skidded to a halt, his companion too slow to meet his action and resulting in a pair of groans.

“What the…?” Pierre asked, rubbing his chest. “Why did you stop?”

He did not answer right away, as he tried to mask his unease with the way his body had reacted. Somehow, pink came to mind. What-?

In an ominous rumble, the ground shook before their eyes. A stride’s distance away from them, the stone floor gave out, collapsing, and the darkness of the newly made crevice suddenly seemed to be reaching out toward them. Had they continued...

“Self-preservation instincts, what else?” Edward replied smugly to break the ensuing silence.

“That was… lucky,” Pierre finally said.

“I’m not ready to call anything about our current situation ‘lucky’, snail slurper.”

Holding in a sigh, Pierre followed in his hoofsteps as they decided to take another route through the ruins. Hopefully, they would be able to solve this problem soon.

Throughout the cracks in the broken windows, one could see the darkness of Luna’s nights claim its hold over the Everfree Forest.

--

Ponyville’s market buzzed with activity during the afternoon. Ponies of many trades would gather daily for the sales of their goods, others, weekly, making their arrival a good occasion for shoppers that wanted the freshest of produces. Dozens would simply trot between stalls to exchange money and gossip to their favorite sellers, bringing life to Ponyville’s center with them.

Amongst the many passerbies, a small group of three trotted without much interest for the stalls. Two of them happened to be bicorns. An observer would be quick to think they were having the time of their life, as their progression was loudly punctuated by the sound of their shared laughter, Fortune leaning against Pierre for support. Her legs were shaking and she was all but ready to double over, tears shining in the corners of her green eyes.

Yet her mouth kept moving and words were spewed to form one more silly story from her foalhood and her teenaged years.

”–a-and then… then Cornucopia pointed at our sleeping grandfather, but her face was covered in soothe! We could barely even recognize her!”

“Fortune, you’re pulling my leg!” Pierre mock stomped, demanding for the ‘real’ version.

“I swear to Celestia, she really did,” she pleaded, completely unable to sound or even look the slightest bit serious.

Her task, albeit commandable, failed on every level, as neither bicorns could not stop themselves from giggling.

“Fine,” Pierre finally admitted, grinning despite his ‘repentance. “I believe you,” he said as Fortune nudged him.

Then, before either could start on a new topic, somepony jumped on the occasion to cut in. “Would you like to buy some flowers for your date, sire?”

Startled, Pierre turned around at the voice calling for them. Behind a large wooden stall, a brown stallion sat, waiting, surrounded by more bouquets than he could count. His eyes were on the two of them and his sly grin was not lost on Pierre, who proceeded to blush under his fur.

This isn’t a date… I really need to remember that.

“W-well, Fortune,” he cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his head with his hoof, “would you like some flowers?”

He had not expected her face to light up, nor her eyes to shine so much.

“Oh yes!” Fortune clapped her hooves together, practically brimming with anticipation. “That would be wonderful! I haven’t been able to afford tulips in ages.”

“See?” the vendor asked. “Your lady clearly desires my product and I can guarantee you that, at five bits the flower, they’re a bargain.”

At the mention of money, Pierre felt with an acute accuracy the complete lack of anything on his person that would allow for the transport of bits. He winced, feeling his ears flatten with embarrassment.

His clothing may have been the fanciest thing he had ever worn, that didn’t mean he actually had money to pay with. On another day, and indeed another world, this would be mortifying and a point of shame. However, as the fur on his skin and so many other things reminded him, he was in Equestria.

And he had two horns on his head. According to the locals, that meant everypony else had to look over their shoulders and help without asking for input.

Predictably, Fortune’s bodyguard moved closer to him, to his left where she could not well see. Seconds later, some bits found their ways into his pockets.

“Thanks,” Pierre whispered, but the pony had already backed away.

Feeling no other choice, he put on his best smile for Fortune and, somewhat clumsily, paid for the tulip. The bits clattered on the wooden planks as he cupped his hoof to lift the flower. With as charming a gesture he could muster, he presented his gift to her, his blush mostly hidden by his reddish fur.

On Fortune, the color was much more noticeable. Under both his and the sellspony’s grins, she took the treat with great care and carefully nipped at its petals.

“Delicious,” she said, her eyes glazing over as her traits turned peaceful. “It’s just like I remembered. Maybe… maybe even better...”

The rest of her words faded, as her natural timidity prevented her from sharing more. She seemed briefly lost in the contemplation of her memories, doubtlessly recalling the last time she had been allowed to eat a treat like this one. However, she soon realized that all three other ponies had been staring, even if unintentionally.

“W-w-would you like a bite?” she squeaked with a reddened face.

Gently, a maroon hoof pushed the flower back to her, just enough to brush against her forelegs.

“It’s yours, Fortune,” Pierre said softly. “Enjoy it. You’ve certainly done a lot to make this a good afternoon spent together. I’m happier seeing how much you like it. Alright?”

Still fighting a persistent blush, Fortune acquiesced, “Alright, Pierre. I p-promise I will enjoy it… for you..”

Beneath his smile, Pierre felt his chest grew warmer. “Great. I think we can keep on our journey then. Let’s see, what else is there to do in Ponyville? I haven’t been here for long, unfortunately. I can’t really be the tour guide, but I’d love to accompany you on a bit of discovery.”

For a short moment, Fortune looked pensive, her eyes darting over the rest of the market for inspiration. Then, as she took another bite of the tulip, her eyes widened. “Oh... oh! We have to go to Sugarcube Corner! I’ve heard about this place in the newspaper! It won a cake-making contest judged by Celestia herself!”

Pierre could not help but chuckle at her enthusiasm. “Well, that rumor is not exaggerated, but the story behind that is a bit longer. But hey, I know where that bakery is and their reputation is surely not built up on air, right?”

“T-then,” she stumbled on the words, “it is decided?”

“It is,” Pierre agreed, taking the lead.

Still not a date… he told himself, and almost believed it.

--

He breathed in once more the atmosphere of old ink and dusty paper, letting a few precious memories come back to him. For the shortest instant, he could have believed himself back on Earth, brushing the fragile parchment with the palm of his hand. But too abruptly, the memory faded into wisps of smoke, and he was a stallion in a pony bookstore.

His ears flicked once, but no other sign showed his disappointment.

“May I help you?”, asked an old earth pony with an inkpot cutie mark.

“Ah, yes, I was looking for books about bicorns, my good sir,” Edward said, stepping inside to admire the vast selection. “Something global, I didn’t quite have a more specific subject in mind yet.”

A look of understanding passed on the old clerk’s face, gears turning before his eyes. With a smile, he motioned for his client to follow.

“It has been some time since a client has come for information on your fellows. Well, beside Princess Sparkle herself, a few days ago,” he chuckled to himself, navigating between the shelves with ease. “I can see why, now.”

“Yes, well, Princess Sparkle isn’t the only bookworm around anymore,” Edward declared with a challenge to his voice.

The boast sufficed to amuse the old stallion, for his smile widened, and under his breath he whispered ‘ah, youths’ before taking a suitable volume out of the shelf. It was an old thing, a relic of the past, but one still widely used as a reference by teachers all across the country. Its circulation had been personally approved by the Princess herself, back when he was still just a colt.

Appreciative of the obvious history carried underneath its bound cover, Edward accepted with a grin that was a touch too vindictive. “Please, send the bill to Princess Sparkle. She will be delighted to know I have started to take interest in my species’ history.”

The elderly clerk nodded. “Of course, sire.”

“Excellent. Thank you for your help. Now all that’s left is to find a nice quiet place to read,” Edward mumbled to himself.

“Ponyville isn’t a big town,” Chainmail added cheerily, reminding his charge of his presence. “I’m sure there are a few places we can go. If nowhere else, we can always go back to the library.”

Blinking a few times, Ed turned to his companion confusedly. “Are you really going to spend your day watching me read?”

Clanks of metal rang to his ears as Chainmail shifted in place and his mood seemed to drop.

“It’s my job, Edward. No matter how unpleasant you try to make it,” the bulky stallion replied.

“Good, then I promise not to disappoint. You’ve never known hell until today.”

Chainmail rolled his eyes, following closely behind while his unwilling charge made his way to the exit.

The door jingled as the two stallions made their way from the small bookstore and into the bustling streets.

Taking a deep breath, Edward surveyed the nearby area, pondering what to do next as the townsfolk continued their routines. The fenced off border of the towns park caught his eye, striking off at a jubilant pace he followed the path into the center of the inclosed haven.

The Mysteries of the Fourth Tribe Revealed, by Field Study.

Taking a comfortable place under a shady tree, and placing the tome he acquired in front of him, Ed couldn't help but recall the first scene of the show he was not stuck in.

It seemed like it always ended up being an ancient tome that held the answers a good protagonist needed.

“Once upon a time,” Ed said, flipping the book to the first of countless pages.

The very first contact Equestria had with the fourth tribe as a whole happened shortly after the end of Discord’s first reign. One hundred years of madness, ended by the hooves of the princesses with the power of the Elements of Harmony. It is safe to say that the whole world breathed a sigh of relief back then. However, many were not satisfied with the transition between the rulers being so bloodless. Their sufferings were asked to be put aside so that the country could be put back on its hooves.

Many could not follow the greatest preaching of Harmony. When messengers first arrived on the site of what had been the unicorn settlement of Gallopfrey, they found that save for a few elderly unicorns, the entire population was that of two horned ponies. Rather than question knowledge that had gone through an entire century of Discord’s influence, it was idiotically assumed that the bicorns had invaded and wrestled control of the city away from their previous owner.

For the following decades, bicorn settlements moved into seclusion, somehow evading most threats that would show up at their doorsteps. In those times, it regrettably meant that those threats would come at the hooves of other ponies. A shameful, disgraceful disharmony reigned between the bicorns and non-bicorns, through no faults on the part of our twin-horned brethrens, of course.

The wisdom of those first nomadic bicorns was reinforced by their unique biology and their own brand of magic. Sometimes dubbed as ‘luck magic’, a bicorn’s horns serve as focus for an internal magical sense toward danger and hardships. An entire village composed exclusively of bicorns could detect most threats that would ever befall it well in advance, allowing the species to bravely survive unassisted for almost a generation.

After settlement had been completely established for the remaining three tribes, contact soon became inevitable, and the unjustified persecution of bicorns began anew. However, this time, it took a more subtle form of discrimination, as Princess Celestia had already begun her watchful reign over us ponies and refused to let such disharmony fester.

During this period of fragile cohabitation, more knowledge started to be leaked about the ones that had been so unjustly treated before.

Far Sight was the first recorded bicorn to have clear visions of the future. Albeit rumors had indeed reached many ears before, including those of the famed Starswirl the Bearded, this was the first time a governmental institute had kept extended notes on a bicorn. The unsightly prejudices of the Post-Unification era still had some black roots into the hearts of ponies. By the laws of Princess Celestia however, the Gallopfrey Hospital for All Equines had no choice but to attempt to treat Far Sight with every considerations a patient deserves.

This capacity has been shown to be extremely rare, only accessible to individual with high magical potential not unlike those measured in unicorn archmages, earth ponies druids and pegasi stormmasters. A bicorn with this capacity will generally be taken under Princess Celestia’s wings and receive the title of Oracle.

Oracles have since then greatly contributed to the prosperity of Equestria as a nation, further showing the folly of our ancestors when they let hatred take hold in their hearts. Helping stop an assassination attempt on our allies’ commander, Minotean High Commander Redbull, and cementing a hundred years trade agreement is but only the most recent of their extraordinary contribution.

Giving a sharp whinny, Edward moved away from the book, taking a solid gaze across the rolling foliage around him. “You have to wonder why the Oracle didn’t predict this meaningless existence his race would partake in. Curious, no?”

“Perhaps they didn’t consider the bicorns’ lives to have become meaningless,” Chainmail said from his seat nearby.

“Yeah, because clearly bicorns were and are treated with dignity, right?”

“Yes,” Chainmail replied bluntly. “You’re protected, cared for and paid by the state without any need for debasing stuff. That’s pretty dignified to me.”

“Being treated like handicapped children is dignified?”

Slowly, the bodyguard turned to look at Edward with raised eyebrows. Scoffing, he replied flatly, “Like celebrities would be closer to the truth.”

“Celebrities are not forced to live in reserves and have fifteen children each.”

“Gotta do what you gotta do so your race doesn’t die out.”

“Except if we factor in the ratio of births to children gender, it seems astronomically improbable that we aren't in equal standings with the other races already.”

At this, the bulky stallion shrugged. “I’m sure there’s a reason for that. Beats me what it is though.”

“Yeah, it’s called the governing body likes having a pool of lucky prophets to use at their leisure,” Ed scoffed, returning to the pages, a sour look on his face.

Once upon a time, when ignorance and jealousy guided our ancestors toward intolerance, there were vile rumors about bicorns’ biology, implying that they were not true ponies. ‘Goats’ and ‘Chaos spawns’ were amongst the kindest words associated with bicorns in those dark times. Through their delusional prejudice, it was believed that they lacked average intelligence, that they had violently chaotic instincts, that they worshipped evil entities and kidnapped foals, everything but the kitchen sink was said of them. This kind of attitude plagued the scientific communities, delaying common studies for decades. Once they were completed however, the results ashamed the worst gossips and revealed crucial details about our noble brothers and sisters.

Beside the horns on their heads and the magic they granted, the most peculiar fact of their biology was first noticed by nurses and midwives, then brought to the attention of the rest of the medical community. Across the unified territory, registers were examined closer and the thesis was first formulated (and later confirmed by the works of eminent researcher Double Helix). Thus, records show that couples made up of two bicorns only produced bicorn foals as well. On the other hoof, if either parent belonged to a different tribe, the foal would almost certainly not be a bicorn. The rare exceptions were noticed when the grandparents were bicorns as well.

As a race, bicorns are the least dominant phenotype, only apparent when every other phenotypes are absent in a pony’s genetic code. This, amongst others, is the most important reason for the bicorns’ endangered status. Despite centuries of coexistence, any attempts at integrating into equestrian society puts them at risk of assimilation within the population and the disappearance of the race as a whole.

“Well, that explains something, but only leaves another hundred questions unanswered, feels like real progress,” Ed said. Before he continued however, the distinct sound of feathers and the beating of wings caught his attention.

Peering up, to his annoyance, he saw that Ponyville’s premiere flyer was headed straight for him.

“Oh, hey pal,” Rainbow Dash said in a more subdued tone than usual. “What are you reading?”

“The latest Playcolt, what else?” Edward jibed, his eyes never leaving the pages of the worn tome.

Instead of laughing as he had expected, she cringed. “Ah, huh, right,” Rainbow Dash agreed, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly. “Look, the other day, during lunch, I didn’t mean to offend your friend like that.”

Ed waved dismissively, pretending to be enthralled by his book. .“Don’t worry about that, Pierre is liable to forgive you.”

A heavy silence fell between them while she digested the meaning of his words.

“That’s cool, but… what about you? Are you mad? My mouth moves a bit faster than my brain sometimes. I was just trying to joke around, help you feel more like part of the group, you know?”

“Right, don’t worry. I don’t get mad, that would imply I expected more from you.”

His dismissive tone apparently struck a nerve, as the humbleness started to fade away from Rainbow Dash’s body language. Straightening up, her eyebrows furrowed together, she called out in annoyance, “Okay, look, I get it, jackass move there! I do that sometimes. But I’m sorry, okay! It wasn’t cool of me, and it won’t happen again. That’s what I wanted to tell you colts.”

“Oh no, you misunderstand, you were totally right, all us bicorns are, are giant rabbits…we mate, we eat, we sleep. It’s not like we have anything better to do, right?”

“I get it!” Rainbow Dash stomped. “I get it, okay! I’m sorry, what more do you want?!”

“Can you free my people, or maybe world peace, can you do that?” he asked evenly, as if her annoyance was even not worth his time.

“Oh for buck’s sake! If you didn’t want to forgive me, you could have just said so in the first place!”

“I didn’t think I’d need to spell it out so obviously, my bad.”

Rainbow Dash snapped. The insult made her blood boil, melding everything together under the sudden burst of adrenaline through her veins. Seething, her wings flared as she prepared to lunge, but her attempt was nipped in the bud when one orange stallion moved with surprising speed between the two of them.

“Step away,” Chainmail said in warning. “You do not want to get the guards on your case for assaulting a bicorn.”

Rainbow’s face twitched, her whole body itching for a fight with the arrogant stallion talking her down. Gears turned in her head, as she fought herself to stay calm and remember the guard’s stern words. In the end, she could not even swallow the bile rising in her mouth long enough to speak. In one blurry take-off, she took to the air.

“Looks like I won, I think, though with her it’s never quite clear.”

“You know, Edward, you are probably the biggest jerk I have ever met. This including any of the nobles,” Chainmail grunted, watching the fleeing prismatic trail of the furious mare.

“Yeah, I know,” Ed whispered.

“Farewell, Fortune...” he said with a hint of melancholy. “I hope you enjoyed the experience as much as I did.”

“I...” the mare paused, seemingly wanting to say more. Her mouth first opened, then closed. “Y-yes, it really was fun spending so much time with you, Pierre. I think today is going to help me the next time it comes to meeting new bicorns.”

His ear ticked at that. A little twitch twisted a nerve in his neck, making things uncomfortable despite his most affectionate smiles. Why did the thought bother him? It was a great ending to what had potentially been a disastrous idea. They left on good terms, and he at least had a better grasp at how bicorns lived.

Unaware of his worries, Fortune leaned forward with a little smile and placed a kiss on his cheek. Then, her natural timidity coming back in full force, she moved away from him, her face completely reddened.

“Well, goodbye and… hopefully, we’ll see each other again soon.”

On that note, Fortune followed her bodyguard away from them, only sending a cursory glance toward Pierre before disappearing between two houses. The stallion stayed in place longer, one hoof weakly waving after her. It was only when there were no more doubts about her being gone that he finally dared to turn around and go back inside.

It should – and would – be the end of that. They’d stay friends if possible, but his primary goal had to remain finding a way home.

Yet his hoof brushed against his cheek, and he found that spot warm. If he focused, he could still feel the softness of her lips just there, lingering. In spite of himself, he found himself smiling.

And the thought disturbed him. He… knew he wasn’t supposed to. How did it even work? Had his preferences changed in a matter of days stuck as a stallion?

Okay, that was both more pleasant than I thought it was gonna be and scarier.

It couldn’t have been so fast, right? He still had no trouble remembering some of his previous girlfriends back on Earth and they still looked attractive to him. So how could he have any attachment beyond platonic levels with Fortune? Not that he had any...

“Stupid stallion hormones...” he muttered, tugging at the collar of his clothes to take them off.

Doing so, he passed by their living room, his suit falling onto the arms of the couch in a clicketing of rubies.

“Ah, the lustful male returns to his den once he has satisfied his lower instincts,” Edward quipped from behind an ancient-looking tome.

“Oh just shut up, Ed...” Pierre retorted miserably. “It’s bad enough feeling this way without you adding on to it.”

“Well, then prepare to feel a whole new level of fatigue.”

For a moment, he was tempted, very tempted indeed, to completely ignore what Edward was about to tell him and just go to his room straight away. Truly, he did not feel like getting another bombshell getting dropped on him. Yet..

Sighing, he started to trot toward the couch Edward was occupying. “Let me guess… Bicorns are all required to have stupidly huge families?”

“Not quite, how much did your date tell you of our past?”

At that, Pierre’s gaze fell downward, his hoof scraping at the ground. “Huuh… well… we weren’t really talking about the distant past. More like, the immediate present, sometimes the close past and… future.”

The book slammed shut, the groan that followed suit holding a grand orchestra of anger, sorrow, and worry. “You really are ten levels of hopeless, aren’t you, lad?”

All his bravado and self-confidence was gone, Edward stood, tired, looking ten years older than his form would suggest. His eyes were lined with dark rings, his body shaking with the internal strain. The tides of the world around him eroding away everything he knew.

“While you were playing house, I dabbled into our new past. Come take a look,” Ed said, tapping the tome beside him wistfully.

Wary, his eyes never leaving his friend’s form, Pierre placed himself beside the old volume. “What’s this?”

“A grand summary of our entire worthless existence. Going from history of being treated as the spawn of evil to the helpful fact that we can see the future sometimes.” Edward’s eyes grew weary, showing a greater burden on his spirit than ever before. “Here, if you want an example of what kind of prophecies bicorn oracles have come up with, well… do the words ‘The stars will aid her escape’ ring a bell?”

One could have heard a pin drop. The silence had come that fast, striking as soon as the words had registered with all the strenght of an explosion.

“Oh… oh putain...” Pierre blanched, his voice weak. “A bicorn predicted Nightmare Moon’s return?”

Edward sighed. “Yeah, yeah they did.”

“W-we’re screwed! Royally fucked over! Celestia’s never going to let us go if THAT’s the kind of help bicorns have been to her!”

“Yeah, I know. We can’t stay here, we don’t have a chance.”

The book slammed shut, and Ed stared at Pierre with a restless look. Layers of paranoia and fear mingled with so many thoughts invaded his mind. The noose had started to strangle them. They were well and truly trapped.

Pierre met his gaze without faltering. He had understood, fully understood, the depth of their trouble, and that of his friend’s worries. “...When?”

“Time slows for no man.” Edward shook his head. “Waiting will only cause the problem to worsen. There’s no time.”

Sighing, Pierre glanced outward, to their window and the orange light filtering through. “Tonight?”

“The sooner the better.”