Tainted Reflection

Chapters

Reflection
Ripples
Recalcitrance
Refuge
Respite, Part 1
Respite, Part 2
Closure
Rapport; or, the end of a Reflection

Reflection

FUN

She was positively thrilled at that thought. She glanced behind her, then in front of her, an excited smile on her face. A smile meant fun, didn't it? Yes!

The other-her was standing there, talking to her - what was that, what worked?

FUN

There might be fun over there!

And in a flash, she was over there. There was fun here, but she wanted more! Without thinking, she started bouncing up and down - if she tried to hold in all the fun, she might explode! Wait, was exploding fun?

FUN

How about there? No, there!

Oh, forget it. Fun was everywhere!

She bounced happily along. She didn't quite know why, bouncing was a lot more fun than just boring old walking. Who'd ever want to walk?

Other-her, the nice pony who'd helped her out of the pool, was trying to call out to her.

". . . look, I can see you're having lot's of fun, but-" she heard as she finally stopped bouncing long enough to hear what that nice pony was saying.

FUN

She had fun? Did she? Too good to be true!

"Fun! Did somebody say fun?" she asked loudly, the words coming easily to her. Her smile widened at saying the word - it was almost as good as having fun!

Prancing in place from sheer excitement, she continued; "Where?"

"I did! Over here!" other-her called back.

In a moment, she was bouncing back towards the pool. "I thought someone said something about fun!"

The fun surely had to be around that pony, right? On her nose? How about the ground over there? The pool?

"Where is it? Overhereoverhere? I don't see it! Whereisitwhereisit?" she exclaimed in a breathless tirade as she raced frantically around. Noticing her own reflection in the pool, she realized the other pony looked exactly like her. Other-her it is, then.

A nagging voice in the back of her mind told her she should be more worried about that similarity, but she shrugged it off.

"Whoa, calm yourself Pinkie," other-her said, "there's loads of fun to be had in Ponyville with my girls!"

Other-her knew where Ponyville was! And where Ponyville was, there was FUN! Maybe she'll lead me there-

"Trot on over back to Ponyville with me and I'll tell you all about 'em."

She knew where the FUN was!

Where other-her went, she'd go!

"...And then there's Rarity. She's the one with all the fancy clothes and ribbons and stuff! I'm thinking she can make us all matching t-shirts that say 'Team Pinkie', and–"

Whatever she was blathering off about, it wasn't very fun. Unfun? Notfun? Anti-fun? Her voice sounded fun, at least, but what she was saying wasn't fun at all. Where was Ponyville, anyway? That's where the FUN is!

Seriously, was this Ponyville? Patience apparently wasn't one of her strong suits.

"Is this Ponyville? Where's the fun? Where's the fun?" she said impatiently, glancing all around.

"Uh, well, let's see, Applejack's having a barn raising at-" other-her began.

That's where it was! The FUNFUNFUN-

She took off down the path.

"It's that-away!" other-her cried, pointing in the opposite direction she was currently speeding in.

Wheeling around sheepishly and blazing by other-her again - she was so slow! And she walked everywhere! Booooooring! - she was almost out of earshot when other-her called to her again. "Wait, come back!"

Maybe she had some better fun? It was worth checking out.

Heeding other-her's call, she whizzed back, bouncing in front of other-her.

"Don't forget to meet me back here to tell me everything about everything, like I was there myself!" other-her asked, "Because I'm you and, and you're me, and– Oh, my gosh! This is the greatest plan ever!" she exclaimed with a audible "squee!" and leap into the air.

Sharing their fun? That was a great idea! That'd be like, double-fun! Was more than one fun even possible?

"Now, off to double my fun!" other-her said as they parted ways.

You betcha!

Bouncing down the dirt path to Apple- what was it, Applejohn? Yeah, Applejohn's barn-raising, she relished the wind rushing over her face. This was fun, too. Just enjoying the simple things, finding fun in what somepony else would consider mundane.

That barn-raising sounded fun, though. Better get there quick.

"Oh, Pinkie Pie, I'm so glad you wandered by," a quiet voice called from the side of the path, snapping her out of her thoughts. She skidded to a stop and whirled to face a yellow pegasus sitting at a picnic with a whole slew of animals around her, "I know I promised not to have any fun today, but, oh, I couldn't help myself."

She gasped internally. What pony would promise not to have any f-FUN?

"All of my critter friends wanted a picnic, and I couldn't disappoint them," the yellow pegasus continued, "come join us. We have plenty of hay juice and marmalade to go around, don't we, critters?

As the animals around her expressed their approval in a rush of nods and guttural noises, she huffed and chomped in frustration, thinking the situation over out loud. "Wait, but that sounds super fun!" she realized, and gasped, "Oh, but Applejohn sounds super fun too! Uh, and, and I can't do one without missing out on the other!"

"Who's Applejohn-" the pegasus began.

"Two fun things at once?" she wondered aloud, heedless. "But which, which? Ooh, can't decide..."

She breathed heavily, arguing over the two choices in her head. She started sweating dramatically, and cringed. "Trouble breathing... Walls closing in!" she gasped, striking a pose.

"Walls?" the pegasus said, perplexed. "But we're outside."

She couldn't take it! With a shriek of horror, she realized it was time to meet other-her again, and dashed off back to the clearing.

Behind her, she heard the pegasus wonder, "Goodness. Was it something I said?"

Yes it was!

"Yes!" she yelled, suddenly in the other pony's face. And with that, she zoomed away for good.

Oh yeah, that was Fluttershutter. Oops. Too late.

"Huh?"

After waving at other-her to get her tush behind this bush (hey, that rhymed!), she waited the worse.

"Ooh, ooh, tell me all about it! Did they pull the walls of the barn up slow or fast?" other-her asked excitedly. It was great question.

"I-" she began.

"Maybe slow to medium fast, somewhere in that range?" Again, she'd love to know too, but . . .

"I-"

"Ooh, did you get ice cream? What kinds did they have? Banana brickle?" Oh no, what if they did? That was her favorite kind!

She couldn't take it any longer. "I didn't make it!" she exclaimed, throwing herself onto her back, "I was on my way there and then Fluttershutter–"

"Fluttershy." other-her reminded her. Oops.

"Yeah, her. She offered something else fun for me to do! A picnic, with cute little animals!"

"Aw, how could you say no to that?" So true!

"That's what I'm saying! Then I would've missed the super fun thing with Applesauce!"

"Applejack." other-her corrected, again. Today just wasn't her day.

The horror of the situation finally overwhelmed her, and she started crying. "So I didn't do anything fun at all!" she bawled.

"Aw, my poor poor me! There, there," other-her said consolingly, "Tell me what, we just need a couple more Pinkie Pies. Easy peasy."

She glanced up, her eyes filled with tears. "Really?"

"Come on, would I lie to me?" Haha, good point.

Come to think of it . . . this just might work.

"...and solemnly swear not to be scared at the prospect of being doubly mared!" she said in unison with other-her. With that, two new other-hers popped out of the images in the pool, disturbing the surface with ripples.

Helping her reflection out of the pool, their broad grin mirrored by her own, she felt a twinge of unease. Without warning, all that filled her mind was FUN FUN FUN.

When she snapped of her internal mantra, she was bouncing along merrily with the two new-hers. What happened?

She wanted FUN!

What where other-hers doing? Something fun? The mere thought of that sent her scrambling for the pool, skidding to a halt beside them.

Recite, pull, done. Now there were three more of her! She giggled - it was like a math equation. More + her = FUN!

Again! She'd never miss an iota of fun anymore.

Her head ached.

Again! She'd never run out of fUN playmates!

What was wrong with her head? It was on fire, and not the FUN type . . .

Again! More FUN! FUN! FUN! What silly pony would care about a little ouchy in the noggin!

She coughed violently, and took a shivering step backwards.

With every new-her emerging from the pool, that throbbing headache hit her with greater force. She swayed on her feet, not even pulling reflections out of the pool. Actually, she wanted to stop that from happening now; every part of her cried out for her to say something, to say there were enough of them. No need for more!

She couldn't do what? What was she thinking about? FUN?

No! She didn't want anymore of her! Whatever she was feeling, it wasn't fun at all!

FUN

W-what was happening?

FUN

What was she blabbering on about? She wanted FUN!

FUN

Please . . . stop! No more! I don't want more of me!

Twenty voices nearly giggled in unison, "...solemnly swear not to be scared at the prospect of being doubly mared!" The words sent jabs of pain down her spine, and then the feeling faded away. She might have been worried, and indeed she was terrified for a faint moment, before she turned her attention to the-

FUNFUNFUNFUNFUNFUNFUNFUN

Waking up is one of the great mysteries of consciousness. The exact moment one regains their sense of self is often a muddled affair, mundane at best.

Not so with the reflection. Her memories of her second bout of free thought were like a puzzle; little snippets, foggy memories that eventually combined into her great revalation.

Being suddenly snatched off the ground, and staring wild-eyed at the rush of colors as they flew.

Dumped into a big room filled with pink, laughing as she skidded across the ground.

A test?

Watching paint dry?

At first, her interest was merely expectant, waiting for the fun in staring at the slowly dripping paint to materialize.

When it did not, she nearly turned to find something else - when a bright purple flash caused her to flinch. Faint unease stirred in her at that, but all the same, her head seemed to clear a tiny bit.

Another flash, and she continued to stare ahead, barely reacting this time. She was sweating now, though she couldn't quite comprehend why; in the interim, her stomach was churning seemingly without reasoning.

More flashes, and with every one she felt a bit of a fog she now realized was there lifting from her eyes. For the first time in hours, she looked at something and thought not fun, but why?.

Her question was answered when other-her in front of her sharply glanced to the side. Silently, she applauded the pony. What was stopping her from looking for more fun?

And then her reflection disappeared in a familiar purple flash, the light and noise infinitely more distracting when it was right in front of her. Her expression was still blank, but her mind was racing - she did not want to look away! It was a primal urge at first, but with each passing moment she wrapped her head around the idea more and more and her resolve grew. Disappearing wasn't fun. How did she know where she went would have fun?

Minute by minute more of the pink ponies were gone, succumbing to the desire to find FUN. She grimaced and stared straight ahead, the monotony ringing agonizingly in her head.

She was not going to look away, to be distracted, to disappear. It wasn't fu- no, there was more to it! Where were they going?

B-but the FUN. . .

The burning in her stomach increased painfully with each new flash. On the other side of the coin, her head felt clearer than she could ever remember.

She tried her hardest not to notice the tumult around her, instead focusing on her errant thoughts, reveling in her new-found freedom from the F- fun that had dominated her thinking previously. The constant ringing could also be thanks in part to that very desire for FUN. She knew it wasn't natural; and even as her resolve strengthened to not look away, her limbs twitched impatiently for FUN.

No, her limbs twitched impatiently for fun. Much better.

Another flash; then silence. Perfect stillness. She shook visibly now, beads of sweat rolling down her face as it contorted into a fearful grimace. The tears got in her eyes, stinging painfully, but she didn't dare wipe them away, or even blink. She wasn't going away. Whatever was happening here, she was here to stay.

"Urgh," somepony groaned from out of her vision - she didn't even twitch in their direction - "I can't take anymore!"

A rush of air above her head followed, and then; "Somepony's making balloon animals!"

Balloon animals are FUN!

No!

Her eyes glanced around frantically, trying to fix her gaze back on the board ahead of her; her heart pounding in her chest, her mind aching, trying to not. Look. For. The.

FUN!

"Ooh," somepony with her voice said, "where?"

A second later, she realized in utter horror she'd been the one to speak. She moved to cover her mouth, turned to the ponies around, trying to say something, to explain she didn't want to disappear!

It was too late. A bright flash and the world turned purple, then black.

No . . .

Wait, how was she still thinking?

Ripples

She soared over Ponyville, where the ponies below didn't even bother to glance up at the newest streak in the sky, one that was identical to all the others in the past hour.

Identical to all the others.

That thought wouldn't go away, as she flew past the farmland surrounding the town, hounded her above golden stalks of wheat ready to be harvested, stubbornly stayed at the forefront above the farmers toiling in their fields. It would have been great fun, if she hadn't been a disembodied shaft of light.

That was, you know, thinking.

Soon, she was crossing over the treeline and unwillingly threading her way through the densely-packed vegetation of the Everfree Forest. She recognized the beaten path below her; it was the one she'd taken from the mirror pool.

Briefly, she recalled how other-hers had emerged dripping from the mirror pool. They where her reflections, weren't they? But, if that was true, where had the first other-her come from? Who pulled her out of the pool?

Was she just other-her's reflection?

Was she just a copy? Was she just going to sink back into the pool?

If she'd still had limbs, she would have been flailing around in horror. What was on the other side of the pool? Would she drown? Would she disappear?

All thoughts of fun forgotten, the shaft of light that held a sapient being flew through the tangled weeds of the cave entrance, and heedless of the protests within, sunk into the pool with barely a ripple.

To her surprise, she was surprised. No, really, how was she still thinking? She felt tingling; that was better than nothing, she supposed. Glancing around as best she could, she saw the ceiling of the cave far above her, shrouded in vines.

Wait, what?

With a start, she realized she was still in the pool, looking out - at the ceiling, in this case. She waited for another of her reflections to explain what was going on - surely they had ended up here as well, being the place they'd came from and all. After a pause, she vaguely sensed presences around her - ripples, fading away fast.

Unthinking.

Was she the only reflection to think? To tehakaflak-

Agh! To her considerable alarm, her ~~thoagauo~~ thoughts were breaking up. Slipping away, losing the focus that meant the difference between coherent ideas and senseless ramblings.

She needed to get oAjhsa

Saldfhelpnotlikaelthis

"Agh!" she gasped, sticking her head out of the pool. Instantly, her mind cleared and her thoughts solidified. Still getting over the shock of her head existing, the entire move just a desperate impulse on her part. Glancing down into the water, she saw her neck and rest of her body - just an image in the water.

Wide-eyed, she waved a hoof she new decisively felt, and the image moved with it. Tentatively, she lifted it to her own face, and it emerged from the water in a solid form. Brushing it over her cheek, she quickly grabbed the side of the pool and pulled herself out, the rest of her body emerging without a hitch.

She scrambled away from the edge of the pool, breathing heavily. Putting a hoof over her mouth, she lay there for a few minutes, taking stock of feeling her consciousness fade away.

The only sound in the cave was her wheezing breaths, reverberating off the walls and coalescing. With the normal stillness of the mirror pool cave, combined with her somewhat addled mental state, that simple reflexive action was practically screaming in her ears.

Finally, after her heart had stopped running an internal marathon and her breathing slowed down to a reasonable level, she shakily got to her hooves.

I wonder if there's any FUN around here.

She grimaced at the errant thought, now fully aware they seemed to be popping out of the mental equivalent of an especially creative chain letter; it wasn't her doing, it was uninvited, and despite all her new-found logic to the contrary, some fanciful, irrational part of her wanted to obey.

No fun. Not until she figured out what was going on. She shuddered noticeably at the thought of her rather narrow goals had been in the past few hours. Confusion nagged her; so much she knew, information, phrases, things she was sure she'd never personally experienced. She bit her lip, now was no time to stop and ponder; it was downright silly to stand here, stock still.

Breaking into a trot for the exit of the cave, she ground her teeth in determination, smacking down every thought of "fun" that appeared. It was helped by her new-found dislike for the word - just because it seemed to be apart of her, didn't mean she was going to let it define her. Not if she could help.

Now, to go . . .

She halted at the exit of the cave. Go where, exactly? Where could she go? It seemed like all those ponies in, what was it, Ponyville? Yes, Ponyville - if her returning memories weren't lying, they wanted her gone. And they already got rid of all her reflections.

Not that she was any better.

She shook off that morose thought. She could think. The mirror pool took them - did any of them have the thought to climb out, enough mental capacity to realize they were losing their consciousness? No. She was different.

But if they'd had more time, like she had . . .

A violent shake of the head. Why was it that when one disappeared, her mind cleared?

Hey, that rhymed-

Not the time! No fun! What was she thinking about . . . yes. They were shards of her soul, right? Wait, then wouldn't she just be a shadow of the original, the one that'd passed the test? The one that resisted the urge for fun?

A copy . . .

A reflection . . .

With a shaking hoof, she wiped away the single tear rolling down her cheek. That one tear held more emotion than the dozens she'd cried out earlier, after failing on her mission to find fun at Applejohn's. No, Applejack. She remembered clearly now.

She existed for a reason. She had to. Pushing her thoughts aside for the moment, with no small amount of difficulty, she put on a brave face and started moving again.

However, before she headed off into the forest that stretched out beyond her, she paused again. Her name. What was it?

Pinkie Pie. That's what they called her, no, screamed at her. Never referring to her, though, always the group. They were looking for Pinkie Pie, sure; but they also knew there was only one.

No. She wasn't going to be Pinkie Pie. She may have thought that earlier - abstractly, of course - but she was lying to herself.

Reflection. The word just popped into her mind, like far too many ideas of her that day. This one, though, she kept. That was a good start. That's was she was, right?

Ugh. Time to get her thoughts back in order. Avoid Ponyville, step one.

Step two?

Well, she'd get there when she got out of this forest. The Everfree Forest, right? That didn't sound too bad. She hadn't had any trouble running around earlier.

Yes. That was a good plan, all things considered.

She stepped into the forest, underbrush crackling at each step. A light rain pattered down, barely reaching the ground under the thick forest canopy. It was a good day to be alive.

And yet, glancing down at her flank, she sighed at the three colorful balloons. Her hair was still bouncy and curled; her cutie mark wasn't her own.

Again, for another time. She hoped whoever "Pinkie Pie" was, that she wasn't famous or anything.

Recalcitrance

The Everfree forest, she'd said. Nothing to worry about, she'd said.

She was so wrong, it was funny, positively hilarious. A fun she was entirely alright with; bitter and ironic.

"Fun, right?" she muttered between wheezing breaths.

Whoops, almost tripped over that root.

"Right?" she screamed, directed at but not bothering to look to the horrible-whatever that was currently chasing her through the bushes. There'd been so many scary, fearsome, or downright insane creatures to try and eat her, she was quite beyond caring which one in particular was after her this time. As long as it wasn't that chicken thing, it was alright - she'd been caught in its stare, only saved by a wooden wolf that'd jumped the monster, only to bolt after her a second later.

It was almost comical, the way these things were knocking each other over to get at her. One would gather that they hadn't eaten in a considerable time; come to think of it, if they only ate ponies, how in the name of everything where there so many? They sure didn't look very appetizing, even to each other . . .

Grinning to herself with just a touch of madness, she leaped over a decrepit rock wall, only to stop and buck it as hard as she could. The jolt of pain that shot up her legs was strangely reassuring; it reminded her she was alive.

As she heard the monster trip over the rolling stones and fall with a resounding crash, she reflected on the fact she was probably enjoying this a little too much.

She was covered in bruises - turns out a rather short lifetime of bouncing around leaves something to be desired in the field of "sprinting crazily around an overgrown forest". Her muscles burned, her skin was dirtied and scratched in many places - no blood, oddly enough - and generally, she felt great. Fear was there, of course, just smothered by irrationality.

Smirking a little, she turned away from the scene, only to have that repressed fear smack her back with righteous fury a second later. With a sharp breath, she stared at the massive drop before her. Two hundred hooves away was safety- of course, there just had to be a gorge in between.

Ghastly Gorge, she remembered, though not from where she'd learned it. Glancing down, she quickly purged any idea of jumping down into a stream. Though it might be fu-

An enraged snarl; to her left, the gorge petered out into a small clearing - a perfect escape route, had not a pack of timberwolves been sitting there. Right, the wooden wolves were timberwolves. Comforting. Now, to her right, the gorge only got deeper - but, what was that?

Salvation. A railroad bridge ran across the gorge, and she wasted no time in breaking into a gallop for it. Behind her, she heard the baying of the timberwolves and the roars of the mystery horror even closer.

Suddenly, a lone timberwolf leapt out of the bushes at her. She ducked, and the monster soared off the edge and into the gorge below, shattering into kindling. It reformed a second later, to no particular concern in the pink pony; she was almost to the railroad bridge.

With a heavy sigh of relief, she got onto the bridge and started carefully making her way across it. One slip on the rail ties, and she would fall to her doom; there was a conspicuous lack of hoofrails, or even space between the edge of the bridge and the rails themselves.

The pack of timberwolves started across behind her, but after the lead one tripped up and ended up pitching off the side, the rest slowed down too. The mystery monster was gone, too; apparently it was loathe to leave the Everfree proper. She looked like she was going to make it-

-when a train rounded the bend a few hundred hooves away and hurtled down the rails at her. Smoke belching out of the top, whistle blowing furiously upon seeing the obstacle in its way. She was trapped, halfway across the bridge - on one side, the train had just started on the bridge; on the other, the timberwolves advanced, stupidly heedless of the oncoming train.

"Oh come on.." she groaned. Peering over the edge, she steeled herself to jump into the rather shallow-looking stream far below. The train continued to blow it's whistle, and she saw the engineer waving desperately at her. All for naught, of course.

"Hang in there!" she heard two distinct voices shout in unison, and two pegasi leapt off the train. By now, she could hear the screech of the brakes. It was probably the only thing that allowed them to reach her in time; she had barely enough of it to make out their nearly identical greyish-blue coats before she felt a jarring impact in her stomach, and heard the steady beat of wings.

And, you know, she was flying away from the bridge, held aloft by her two saviors.

She watched as the confused timberwolves were bowled over by the train, swatting them aside like so many gangly wooden flies. With gratifying speed, she was taken by the two pegasi to one of the speeding train cars.

Blinking at the sudden lack of rushing air, she followed the two winded pegasi inside a car; it was empty. Apparently, mid-afternoon trains to wherever their destination was weren't very crowded. The conductor, a beige unicorn, barged in a moment later.

"You did it!" he gasped, clearly winded as well from his presumable run down the length of the train.

"You betcha!" one of the now obvious sisters grinned, the one with the bow in her light blue mane. She elbowed her sister, "Nice one, Cloudchaser.

"Omigosh, Flitter," said the other one, with a slightly crazier mane style, "we just saved Pinkie Pie! The Element of Laughter herself!"

The pink pony opened her mouth to correct her, then stopped. Would they be disappointed if that wasn't exactly the case? She didn't want anypony to be unhappy, right? Yeah.

Wait. They knew her name. Uh oh.

"Thanks," she said instead, smiling gratefully, "I woulda been a goner!"

"If you don't mind me asking, Miss Pie," the conductor said, bowing his head slightly, "why in Equestria were you out there in the Everfree being chased by timberwolves? Away from the other Elements?"

"You look pretty banged up," Cloudchaser added.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told ya." she responded, putting on her best cheery voice.

Flitter rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. "You okay, Pinkie? Your voice sounds a little . . . off."

Yes! She didn't sound like her anymore! Take that!

"Uh, this better?" she said, this time imitating her old voice to the best of her ability. She got a happy nod from Flitter.

"Well, I should get back to the other passengers and explain what the meaning of that commotion was." the conductor sighed, turning for the door.

"Hey," Cloudchaser said, punching her sister lightly, "we should totally go up there with him, and tell everypony just who saved her!"

"I don't know, sis," Flitter replied doubtfully, "don't you think she needs some medical attention or something?"

"I'll be fine!" said "Pinkie Pie", a little too quickly. When she digested the odd stares, she continued, "I've had worse ouchies before!"

"Let's go!" Cloudchaser grinned excitedly, rushing after the conductor. Flitter gave one last concerned look, only to meet a reassuring, lopsided grin from "Pinkie". Not apparently convinced, Flitter stood there staring at her for at least a minute before turning around slowly and following her sister.

"Only 'cause it's you, Pinkie Pie." Flitter said as she left.

When she was finally alone, "Pinkie" collapsed into a nearby chair, her adrenaline bleeding off alarmingly. Or so it seemed, at least.

Pinkie Pie was famous. Enough so that three random ponies on a train knew exactly who she was without a moment's hesitation. And they weren't even in Ponyville; there, she was sure, they had to know who she was. Who're the "Elements", anyway? Not good, not good . . .

"Next stop, Ponyville!" a voice yelled from the front of the train.

"Really?" she groaned, getting up from her chair. Sure enough, out the window was the town off in the distance, but approaching rapidly.

"Miss Pie?" a voice called from a few cars in front. The conductor. "You still there?"

Not for long. She ran in the opposite direction; whether she'd jump out the back, or hide, was yet to be seen. Again, she'd get there when she got there.

The first car she came to was completely empty. When she got to the second, however, she locked eyes with its lone occupant.

A griffon, she remembered. No specifics, but it wasn't exactly giving off positive vibes . . .

"Who are you?" the griffon asked confusedly. His feathers were dark, the color of soot; his eyes were framed by a splash of dirtied white. He'd evidently been travelling for some time.

More relevant, however, was the fact he had no idea who she was. She decided to go for honesty; at least, she wouldn't outright lie.

"I need help," she gasped, "ponies are after me!"

"In Equestria?" he replied with a disbelieving snort.

"Yes," she nodded rapidly, "they want to make me disappear! Literally!"

"What?" he asked, giving her a strange look. "Is this some kind of pony joke?"

"No! No! I mean, look at me!" she exclaimed, gesturing at herself. She certainly looked the part, very real bruises and scratches marring her skin.

The griffon rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It's not like an Equestrian to beat themselves up for a bit of humor, is it?"

"Uh, no."

"Are you some kind of criminal?" he asked after a second's pause. "Because the sovereign Kingdom of Eas has no wish to attract the ire of the Sun."

"I- what? No!" she said, glancing behind her.

"Right, right. And I'm the heir to the Empire." he scoffed.

"Wait, you are?"

He rolled his eyes. "No, that would be Crown Princess Vaernya, and I'm rather looking forward to her reign."

"Miss Pie?" the conductor called again, only a few cars away now. Confusion was evident in his voice, the celebrity he'd been looking for gone.

"Look, please, they're almost here!" she hissed. The train shuddered to a stop; she could hear Cloudchaser's excited boasting outside, along with confused replies. A quick glance out the window, and she gasped audibly. There, talking with Flitter, was Pinkie Pie.

The griffon wasn't idle during this time, he also got up and looked out. His sharp eyes quickly noticed something was wrong.

"What's the meaning of this?" he asked a little harshly, turning back to the wilting duplicate.

"I- I can explain, just hide me!" she said frantically.

"A changeling, huh?" the griffon said quietly to himself. "Alright, get in my travelling case. That business trip to Appleloosa was a pretty big failure, eh?"

"Thank you so much!" she said gratefully as she climbed in the cramped space.

"No problem. Name's Jars, by the way." the griffon said, closing the lid.

"Reflection." she replied, oddly proud of proclaiming her self-proclaimed name for the first time.

As the lid snapped shut and the conductor waltzed in a second later, Jars turned to the intruder with a smile.

Reflection. Well, we could use something like you in the East.

Once the conductor had left, although a growing commotion outside gave her pause, Reflection grinned to herself. She was going to make it.

"Next stop, Canterlot." Jars whispered to the case, "and the Embassy."

"Aren't you going to let me out?" she asked.

Jars glanced around at the completely full car, ponies packed into every available seat, as the train groaned into motion again. "About that. I hope you're not claustrophobic."

Refuge

Six miserable hours later, and the lid of the case finally opened. Reflection tumbled out, blinking at the glaring light of a normal handheld candle. An assortment of crumbs and wrappers fell out right after her; Jars had taken to shoving in candy bars through a tiny hole in the ragged case while stumbling around Canterlot.

Said griffon was was standing there with a sheepish look, trying to help her up. She waved him off irritably, glaring as she got to her feet.

"Look, before you-" he started, shut up abruptly by a hoof thrust across his beak.

"Just . . . let me stretch." Reflection hissed, doing just that. Finally feeling less like a statue and more like a living pony, she glanced around the room she'd been taken to; it was bleak and spartan, with stone walls, floor, and ceiling. Rickety crates were piled high all around them, and no windows were in the walls; the only opening was the doorway, the thick oaken door currently swung to the side.

As her vision adjusted from six hours in total blackness, Reflection realized the room was actually rather dark; the flickering light of Jars' lantern hardly reached into the corners of the room. His face was like something out of a horror film, bathed in fading light that illuminated his face well enough, but tapered off with everything else.

"Where are we?" she asked finally.

"Griffon Embassy, Canterlot," he replied, glancing about him, "and in the only room not built by the ponies for us. Our hideout, you might say."

"Yeah, it shows," she observed. "So, uh, thanks?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I know ponies are forgiving and all, but you've shaken off being stuffed in a travelling case for six hours with, uh, unusual speed.."

"Just glad to be alive," she muttered, leaning tiredly on a nearby crate.

Jars nodded. "I've had that feeling plenty before. So, the Equestrians wanted to kill you? I thought I'd never see the day."

She cocked her head. "Huh? I'm not an Equestrian anymore?"

"Well, no. They wouldn't kill one of their own, would they changeling?"

"Changeling?" she said, mouthing the word out. Whatever it was, she had foggy memories of that word, and they were all bad.

"Come on," he said, "you're safe here. Probably. No need to keep up the act."

"I- what?" she said, too confused to indeed keep her act up, though it wasn't exactly the act the griffon thought it was.

He slowly frowned. "You're not a changeling?" His claw started moving to his side; she spotted the candlelight glinting off a wicked-looking war axe.

"N-no," she stammered, "I'm a reflection."

"Yeah, your name's Reflection. Already got that." he growled, fully grasping the weapon now, backing away to give himself room to swing. If it came to that.

"I am a reflection," she corrected, deciding the truth couldn't land her in a worse place than this, stuck in a windowless basement with a suspicious hybrid.

He tilted his head slightly, keeping his grip on the handle of his axe. "Explain."

She tilted her head as well. "You're not going to question that?"

That seemed to snap him out of his tense stance, as he huffed to himself, "What am I doing? A griffon of Eas, almost drawing steel at you. Shameful."

"Thanks?"

"And to answer your question, no. I've seen too many insults to good sense in a single week, one more won't do much," Jars sighed, "More often than not, the crazy things they say happen here, the things I scoffed at back in Eas, turned out to be true."

"Right . . ." Reflection said. She had to phrase her words carefully. "Would you believe me if I said I'm a result of a magical cloning pool?"

Jars blinked. "Yes."

"Really?"

He groaned, releasing his grip on his axe to rub his eye. "Yes. So, not a changeling?"

"I don't think so." she said, shrugging.

"Pity. So, Miss Clone, why'd they want you dead?" he asked, only to receive a fierce glare in response. "Oh, sorry. Poor choice of words, I see."

"Let's not say clone, shall we?" she frowned. "And, I think it's because there used to be hundreds of me."

"Hundreds?" he said, eyes widening a little.

"Hundreds. There more there were, the less control the all seemed to have. Including me. We, uh, started destroying stuff by accident."

". . . how much stuff?"

"I remember a barn. At least. And we terrorized the entire town."

"This is, er, interesting." Jars observed candidly. "Listen, so, why'd we want to keep you around?"

"We?" she asked, "I haven't seen any other griffons here."

"Well," he said a little sheepishly, "there's only ten of us. High King Graesl's not a big fan of Equestria. Most of the others are at an official dinner with those blasted nobles. Aerst's cooking some heartier fare for when they get back; by the claw, we need some halfway-decent cooks here-"

He stopped to stare at Reflection. "Just what are going to do with you? You've still got a lot of explaining to do with the official Ambassador."

"I can cook." she stated. Not that she'd ever personally cooked. It just seemed like something she'd be good at; an inexplicable feeling, yet sure.

He groaned. "I'm sure I'm handling this rather poorly by any diplomat's standards, but . . . sure. Come upstairs with me, and show me your worth. A mirror pool that spits out hundreds of clones? I see potential in that."

As she followed him gratefully out the door, he spoke again. "Oh, and who's Pinkie Pie? I swear I've heard her name somewhere in before . . ."

Author's Note

Rushed, rushed rushed. Probably very sloppy; haven't have time for anything but a quick glance-over before submission. I'll make up for it with tomorrow's chapter.

Deadline's approaching fast.

Respite, Part 1

"So, anyway," said Jars with a laugh, "in my Equestrian class I took before coming over here, I first learned how you pronounce 'J's."

"Ouch, I can imagine." Reflection said, leaning back in her seat. They were in the main dining room of the Embassy; finely ornamented by the Equestrians who built it, but sloppily maintained by its current residents.

"Doubt it. The guys still won't let a day pass without ribbing me about it in some way. Literally everyone I've met here has pointed out my name."

She looked thoughtful. "Uh, how is your name pronounced?"

"The 'J' sounds like a 'Y'. Thank the Gods, you're the first pony to ask me that in a long while." Jars said gratefully.

"And the first pony to cook, looks like." she observed.

He nodded vigorously. "Aye, I got a lot to thank the Gods for today, don't I?"

The conversation had a pause as both scoffed down another round of meat pies. The previous guard/cook, Aerst, must have been a hideously bad chef, because her rather mediocre creation was greeted with acclaim from every griffon who tried it. Which came to a total of 10, as the rest of the Embassy griffons had arrived a half an hour previous. They'd been half-famished, the delicate morsels served at the official dinner proving quite inadequate to their voracious appetites.

Also, she'd found that simply cooking a nice hunk of imported meat competently was gratefully received. Aerst hadn't even been able to cook something that simple. In the words of Ambassador Vorsl, "As terrible of a reputation this posting has, it's utter suicide for a cook to come here; everything's imported, so none of the fresh delicacies of home. Earn the ire of the Ambassador, and your reputations ruined."

Her impulsive revulsion at the meat didn't last long, as she'd taken an equally impulsive bite out of a chunk and promptly scarfed the whole thing down; she was probably just as hungry as the griffons. Better yet, she'd been hired as a cook, after a few lengthy explanations as to just how she got here.

Wiping her mouth sloppily with a hoof, she grabbed her dirty plate and headed over to the sink. While letting the water run over the plate, she stepped to the side and took off the headband holding down her mane. She'd grown quite fond of the thing; originally just to keep her mane out of the cooking fire, it certainly made her look different from her original self. A cooking apron completed the picture, and much to her joy, it obscured her cutie mark.

As her mane flopped down freely, she noticed Ambassador Vorsl staring at her strangely. Maybe he knew something Jars didn't? After all, out of all the griffons here, he'd been here the longest; a few months, while all the rest were newly-arrived. Apparently, the High King had recalled most of his emissaries after somepony called Discord had done . . . something. They were rather hesitant to talk about that one, especially Vorsl, who'd been there.

Now watching Vorsl out of the corner of her eye, she removed her apron; he reeled back, as if struck. He spoke; perplexed, vigilant, and afraid - and not to her, but Jars.

"This 'magical clone' was Pinkie Pie?" he asked harshly.

"Huh?" Jars said, his voice muffled, He swallowed the rest of the pie and turned to his superior, wiping the crumbs off his beak as he did so. "Who's Pinkie Pie?"

Vorsl slowly buried his face in a claw. "Did you learn anything about Equestria before being assigned here?"

"Uh, geography and language mostly. Not much culture, though, if that's what you're asking. I'm officially a merchant, after all." Jars said.

"Miss Pi-" Vorsl smiled wryly, "excuse me, Reflection, do you know who you are?"

"I was Pinkie Pie." Reflection said firmly.

The griffon sighed. "I'll rephrase that. Do you know who Pinkie Pie is?"

"A pony obsessed with fun?" she guessed, shivering at the memories.

"Perhaps. She's also the Element of Laughter!" Vorsl rose out of his chair, his eyes widening and his voice hissing.

"What's that . . ." Reflection trailed off, recoiling a bit at the incredulous stare of Vorsl, "I should know this, shouldn't I?"

"Yes. I- well, where do I begin? Celebrity, protector, weapon." he spat the last words.

"I- I'm a weapon?" Reflection stammered.

Vorsl rolled his eyes with a huff. "Pinkie Pie is a weapon. She's one of the Elements of Harmony; magical artifacts that defend Equestria from evil. They shoot rainbows."

"I, uh,"

"Forget it. What I'm saying is, you're a national celebrity. And may the Gods forbid the Equestrians learn about this and think the Element of Laughter is working as a cook in this Embassy." Vorsl sighed, sitting back down and rubbing his eyes. "I'm too old for this."

"I'm not actually the Element of Laughter, though, right?" Reflection asked after a moment's silence.

"No," Vorsl stated, then shrugged thoughtfully, "well, knowing this insane land, who knows."

Seeing Reflection's look of utter horror, Jars joined the conversation. "What he means, is nothing's for sure here, but probably not."

Looking a little reassured, Reflection yawned. "So, I get to stay here?"

"Until I get this sorted out with the government back in Eas, yes." Vorsl said, again shrugging, "and the Gods know how long that'll take."

". . . estimate?"

"A few months, if they have an answer immediately and don't ask for any clarification. Which won't happen." Vorsl sighed.

Reflection didn't bother hiding her smile, instead trudging off tiredly to the bunk room Jars had shown her earlier. Aforementioned griffon tagged along with her, pointing out various notable artifacts from previous occupants; all very interesting, and more importantly, they took her mind off the revelations of the past minutes.

Outside was dark, the moon beginning to rise into the sky. She plopped onto a free bunk; one of the guards, Karlya, was already snoring on a nearby one. As she lay there, she saw Jars' gaze rest a little too long on the slumbering griffon. She made a mental note to tease him on that later on; it'd be fun, right?

"Hey, uh, Reflection?" Jars said, "you know that head band? You should wear it more often. Makes you different, y'know?"

"Yeah. You got something that can cover up my cutie mark?" she asked. He disappeared into a nearby closet for a few moments, coming out with a green travelling cloak.

"Thanks," she said, taking the bundle and stuffing it under her bunk, "sure was a crazy day, huh?"

"That's every day in Equestria." Jars sighed, collapsing onto an adjacent bunk.

She closed her eyes; for the first time in her entire life, she felt content. Not exhilarated, or fearful, fun-filled or morose. No especially intense emotions were present, just a drowsy contentment.

Blissfully, she slipped away into unconsciousness, until a memory blazed into her head. She suddenly bolted upright, breathing heavily, a look of fear marring her otherwise average features. Recalling those horrible moments in the mirror pool a second time, she irritably huffed and settled back down.

Tonight was going to be a long night.

But that was alright.

Author's Note

Nearing endgame.

Respite, Part 2

Morning.

It took some reassurances of diplomatic immunity from Ambassador Vorsl, and a promise from Jars to personally protect her, before Reflection finally agreed to go outside the Embassy walls. It all began with an offhand comment about how good she remembered pancakes being; of course, as she was doling out the salted fish at the time, the entire Embassy ganged up on her to show them.

Her mane was in a headband, a few errant strands flopping out; otherwise, she thought it looked gratifyingly unique. Her green cloak was clasped around her neck with a brooch that had lightning and claw emblem on it, the symbol of Eas and the late Griffon Empire. She's already heard the griffons reference the old Empire a dozen times in casual conversation

All in all, she felt great, and the brisk morning air of Canterlot was positively invigorating. The streets were nearly empty, the initial morning crush of working ponies having given way to tourists and nobles. And, you know, griffons and clones. The griffons tended to sleep in, much to Reflection's pleasure.

"So, anyway, that strutting Saddle Arabian looks like he saw a spirit!" Jars was saying, gesturing animatedly as they descended flight after flight of stairs, heading for the lower areas of the city.

"This 'Crown Princess Vaernya' seems like an imposing griffon," Reflection observed, shrinking at the snobbish, yet worryingly curious looks she was getting from the nobles strutting past them.

Jars nodded. "Aye, you wouldn't think it. She's nothing special physically, certainly. It's what on the inside that scared ponies like those idiots who boarded our airship outside of Redclain."

"Which is . . . ?"

"Nothing against our current High King," now he leaned in and whispered, "but he's old and slow. Unimaginative."

"And?"

Jars straightened up. "Vaernya, not even the leader of Eas yet, is already uniting the old colonies and citadels of the Empire. She's got a fire in her, the type that's led us to glory in the past," he shrugged, "or, that's what every griffon who knew the old Empire says, including Vorsl. That old hawk's seen more than you ponies give him credit for."

"He seems pretty sharp to me." Reflection huffed, before readjusting her cloak. "Ugh, this thing's not built for travelling, is it?"

"It is," Jars said, "but for another place. Not where the weather's controlled down to the raindrop, no. Here, you can just throw on whatever best suits the planned weather."

"I guess." Reflection conceded.

As they neared a dry goods store near the base of Canterlot, Jars pointed to a nearby bank. "You see that? Apparently, it got-"

Reflection had stopped moments before, wincing and holding her stomach. Upon seeing a concerned look from Jars, she waved him off and trotted up, putting on a brave smile.

"Did you eat something . . . ?" Jars began, before Reflection marched right past him and through the doors of the store.

"Ponies," he shrugged.

The day went as well as she could hope; she was looked up to as some kind of god for her pancakes, stuffed with more sugar than a griffon king's desert. After, she'd taken to sweeping up the hallways of the Embassy, alone for most of the time as the griffons went to another high society dinner.

Her thoughts, however, wouldn't stop lingering on the morning. It'd seemed random to Jars; at least, she hoped it did. She knew better, though. That nauseating hole in her stomach, sudden and staggering, happened when a nearby unicorn had lifted a heavy box. She'd felt some vague unease, watching other unicorns use magic around her as she'd walked through Canterlot; but those had been small things and relatively far away. That stallion was clearly exerting himself magically, and it'd hit her like a force.

As she lay in her bunk, still for the first time that day, she felt a little twitchy. She tossed and turned, but couldn't find a good spot. One moment, her skin burned at the slightest contact; the next, she was pulling the covers over her, a chill causing her limbs to shake uncontrollably. If she didn't know any better, it felt like she was coming apart.

Eventually, mercifully, she fell to sleep.

She'll feel better tomorrow.

The next day, she stayed cooped up in the Embassy. Midway through the day, she'd made the mistake of looking out the window as she was preparing some food. She saw a unicorn stallion levitate a bouquet of flowers to an pegasus mare; she'd felt some vague stirrings of unease at the sight, until the mare had taken them with a bubbly smile and flew off in excitement, right past her window.

She'd been reading up on Equestrian culture that morning, to better expand on the distant memories that had allowed her to go about daily life. She knew pegasi were magical in their ability to fly, and her theory from yesterday was confirmed. She recoiled from the window, almost falling to the floor. Her legs were shaking, her muscles feeble, and again her skin flashed from burning to freezing.

As she raised a hoof in front of her face, she stared in mute horror as the bright pink faded, then glowed, and finally settled to its original pigment.

She organized the crates the hidden below-ground storage room for the rest of the day.

Another day of skulking around the Embassy, although she noticed her food beginning to loose its taste. Probably. The griffons hadn't had anything big to do that day, but luckily most of the them went on a tour of the Canterlot cave system like any old tourist. That'd left her, Jars, and Karlya alone in the building. A requested repainting of the Embassy doorway was agonizing for her, glancing around to make sure nopony came near. It was a hasty job, in the end.

Other than that, her stigma of the outside world had been pretty well respected that day. Jars, however, seemed to be growing ever so suspicious of her - and she couldn't blame him.

Next morning, Jars had cornered her after breakfast and asked if she'd go with him and Karlya to a nearby bar. She knew what that probably meant to him, and silently congratulated him; but she still was morose over the course of the day, the inevitability of running into magic use at the bar putting a dampener on any potential excitement.

Still, once she got there, it wasn't so bad. They picked a shadowy corner and cavorted late into the night, mostly singing griffon drinking songs that decreased in quality as the night went on. Much to her relief, Jars had insisted on grabbing the drinks from the counter himself, avoiding the possibility of somepony levitating a cup over to her.

That was, until a particularly bold salespony had swaggered in near closing time.

"Blueleaf's Patented Blemish Removal!" he announced grandly, "Try one and you'll never go back to baths, makeup, or anything else like that again! Try one treatment for free!"

She hadn't paid much attention to him until he'd found a volunteer, idly watching the scene. His horn glowed, and the volunteer's body was covered in a blue glow, sparkling with concentrated magic. True enough, blemishes on his skin were wiped away, but she nearly keeled over from the overflow of magic.

Her heart nearly stopped when she heard the triumphant salespony address her. "You, there! You look like you could use a free trial of my technique!"

Sure, she was in a sorry state. Bags under her eyes from lack of sleep; small cuts and bruises that hadn't fully healed from her ordeal several days ago.

But she didn't dare think what would happen if he covered her in magi-

"Well, why don't we find out!"

Every nerve in her body exploded, burned, and froze all at once. She shrieked in pain as the blue glow washed over her; it stopped a second later as the surprised salespony recoiled at her outburst. She saw a hoof flicker, and she screamed even louder as pandemonium erupted in the bar. Her griffon companions hauled her out at her own behest, the other ponies stared in horror; luckily, Jars and Karlya had trusted her when she begged for them not to let unicorn healers arrive and work her over.

The next few minutes were a blur, barely feeling the rough cobblestone she was being dragged over. She threw up along the way to the Embassy, shaking violently, but they made it.

As alarmed griffons cleared off a table that doubled as healer's table and Vorsl pulled out the medicinal chest, she saw through the haze of pain the griffons stop in confusion.

Jars stood there, a bulky splinter from a rotting table in the bar gripped in his claws. She followed their gaze down to her own leg, and realized with a start that it'd come from there, embedded.

And the wound did not bleed in the slightest.

She stared at the flickering, unnatural hole where the splinter had been, and started shaking with greater force.

And it was going so well.

Author's Note

Extremely rushed; I'll be sure to go over this again before judging in the contest. If this chapter seems oddly different from the tone of the previous ones, be sure to let me know. I'm not particularly proud of it.

Thanks for feedback.

Closure

"Then I opened my eyes again to see the ceiling of a hospital. The best surprise of my life, I might add."

Reflection fidgeted nervously as she finished her tale, sinking back into her seat. She spared a glance at the figure seated across the table from her, a female griffon the color of soot. Unimpressive physically, Reflection and Jars, who sat beside her, looked at the figure with a mixture of awe and fear. The room was cramped and sparsely decorated; other than the table, the only other furniture in the room was a bookshelf with a collection of old tomes and scrolls. The claw-and-lightning symbol of Eas hung from a purple banner behind the figure, covering the only window.

"So, you just hit yourself with a blast of the most powerful magic in Equestria? As you were literally breaking up from using it moments before?" the figure questioned, leaning forward.

Reflection rubbed the back of her neck, looking a little sheepish as she did so. "Well, yes, Princess."

"Just call me Vaernya." the figure said, sighing a moment later. "I know, you're expecting some griffon of great stature. Probably one with the colors of fire, too; it seems to be a recurring theme in the legends."

"Not exactly," Reflection began, only to be cut off by a frantic gesture from Jars.

"Hm?" Vaernya cocked her head.

"Well . . ." Jars trailed off, "oh, blast it. I already described you to Reflection, back in Canterlot."

"And . . ?" Vaernya asked with a soft, amused smile.

"He said you were really average. Physically." Reflection said bluntly, hastily adding, "but, he said you had a fire in you. The entire embassy seemed to admire you."

Vaernya nodded. "My thanks for not making me out to be more than I am. I swear, the Sultan of Saddle Arabia thought I was six feet tall before he met me." She waved a claw absentmindedly, continuing, "Anyway, we seem to have been sidetracked."

Reflection sighed. "Yeah. Getting back to what probably looked like suicide," Vaernya chuckled at that, then motioned for Reflection to continue, "I guess - I guess I don't really know why I hit myself with the Elements. Call it not wanting to suffer through slow death, just throwing my fate to the winds for once, maybe clinging to the hope the Elements would help me-"

"Which, they did." Vaeryna cut in.

Reflection perked up. "Yes, they did. Jars?"

"Right, when we got her to a hospital, a unicorn ran a test on her. Said the magic in her was totally her own now; the Elements had stripped away the last vestiges of Pinkie's soul, and saved her life." Jars explained.

Vaernya frowned. "You said her body was rejecting magic before. How is she different now?"

Reflection continued the explanation. "The doctors said, as far as they could tell, that my body was rejecting my own soul that was forming. The core was the shard of Pinkie's - the more and more I grew as my own pony, the more I hurt myself. The Elements, apparently, freed me."

"I must say, I still don't quite understand how that happened." Vaernya confessed. "Heir to Eas and Crown Princess, I guess you cross omniscient off the list."

"Truth be told, neither do I." Reflection said. "But really, I don't care."

"Still, you knew that using the Element of Laughter would kill you?" Vaernya pressed.

Reflection shrugged. "The thought was there, in the back of my mind. I guess I just accepted it. Nice to get swept along by the current once in a while, instead of fighting it. I was going to die anyw-"

Vaernya raised a claw. "No. No matter how you phrase that, it's selflessness that I hope I'll have, if it comes to that someday."

"Wow, uh, thanks," Reflection stammered, blinking at the Crown Princess.

"I get that a lot." Vaernya sighed. "Seems like nobody can fathom that leaders can compliment them."

"This is a dream come true," Jars whispered to Reflection.

"So," Vaernya began, "I have to get ready for my own trip to Canterlot soon. It's been good talking with you about the West, but before I lead Eas, learning about it first-hand ought to be useful. This Celestia seems like quite the ruler."

Neither Reflection nor Jars commented on the Crown Princess' musings.

"Before I leave, however," Vaernya said, looking back to the pair, "Two more questions. First, did a legal citizen of Eas actually save Canterlot?"

"Well, Celestia and Luna would probably have fought it off, eventually." Reflection said.

"But," Jars added, "A lot of ponies probably would've died."

Vaernya nodded, pleased. "Good. That'll be useful. Second . . .are you still the second Element of Laughter?"

"No," Reflection admitted, "Pinkie's not a part of me anymore."

Vaernya frowned, then shrugged. "I suppose that was asking for too much. Imagine, the Kingdom of Eas with control over Equestria's greatest weapon . . ."

"Princess?" a gruff voice called from outside. The door was pushed open, and an armored guard stood there. "The airship is ready."

"That's my call." Vaernya said, getting up from her seat. "Glad to meet you, Reflection - and good job, Jars. Complete failure of securing business contracts in the West aside, keeping a cool head in an insane situation is admirable."

Jars looked like he was about to faint.

"Faevl?" Vaernya called to another guard, who stood at the end of the hallway. "Escort these two down to Minister Dersj's office in the Citadel. He'll get them sorted out for life here."

And with that, she strolled out without a second glance. Jars grinned madly. "I just met Crown Princess Vaernya . . ." he muttered happily.

A few minutes of following the silent guard through the near empty halls of the Palace of Eas, they finally went out the great double doors and gazed down at Eas proper. It was certainly a different vista than Canterlot; built solidly on a great plateau, the city rose out of the ground grandly. The walls were covered in banners and cannon, the forms of guards visible through the morning mist. The buildings had none of the gilding and pomp of Canterlot; they were solidly built, each almost a fortress in their own right. The bustle of city just waking up filled the air.

Reflection sighed. It was a new life, far different than the one she would have had back in Equestria. However, every bit of attachment she had for the Land of West, as it was called here, had vanished with Pinkie's soul in her. She was her own pony.

She took a deep breath and exhaled, letting the weight of the week fall away. Her future beckoned - her future.

As she turned to follow Jars and the guard down the steps of the Palace, the greyness of the Eastern sky never looked so appealing.

Author's Note

So, we meet Vaernya and Reflection survived. It's been a long road, guys, and you have my heartfelt thanks you were there to support me. This is my first multi-chapter fic I've finished on this site, and completing it gives me much hope for the future of my other stories.

We'll be seeing more of this universe in later stories, especially Distant Shores, coming out soon. Vaernya isn't a one-time character. I'll need an editor for that story, I think; If you're interested in editing a pure adventure story in the East featuring ponies, airships, and heaps of worldbuilding, let me know!

My special thanks to AppleTank and Servant Pheonix, for reminding me the survival of my main character was still up in the air. I'd been procrastinating; I hope this ending is satisfactory.

Here's to my chances in the contest, and here's to good futures for us all! We might be seeing Reflection as a cameo in the future, too . . .

Rapport; or, the end of a Reflection

"Oh, Gods," Jars muttered.

Reflection stared down at the bloodless hole in her leg, mute and wide-eyed. Her breaths were hoarse and ragged, and she glanced around frantically to the griffons surrounding her, hoping that maybe she was imagining it all.

No such luck. "Get her to the infirmary!" Vorsl ordered, stepping forward and breaking the shocked silence. Immediately the griffons sprang into action, easing her on to a makeshift stretcher. Someone offered her a jug of whiskey, apparently a staple of their healers; she drank until the jug bounced out of her shaking hooves.

She glanced up at Vorsl. The old griffon was seemingly unruffled, barking commands to his staff, whose growing panic was stifled by action. For that, she was distantly grateful, although her thoughts were starting to slip away, the rhythmic jarring of the stretcher blending together, formless-

"Hey," a toneless voice called through the haze.

""Hey!" it yelled again, and everything cleared, her mind focusing on the voice. It was Jars.

"W-what?" she stammered, shaking her head quickly. With an inner chill, she realized her vision was literally going spotty, blackness swirling around unnaturally. She closed her eyes.

"Reflection," Jars began, shaking her with a claw, "we're taking you to the infirmary, but we don't have a healer. We need to get an Equestrian in here, or Gods now what'll happen to you!"

That really woke her up. "No!" she said instantly.

"We barely know anything about magic!" Jars shot back. "This isn't a question, Vorsl already sent a guard to the nearby clinic."

"No!" she almost screamed, wincing as she was dumped on a bed. "Do you know what they'll do to me!"

"You'll have to be alive for them to possibly do something later!" Jars fully shouted.

"Jars, they'll kill me . . ." Reflection whispered, her thoughts breaking up again.

"I'm sorry." the griffon sighed quietly.

Consciousness filtered back slowly, in fits and starts. First Reflection heard a conversation outside, without comprehending a word spoken. Next came feeling the coarse blanket draped over her; finally, her eyes shot open and everything came together at once.

"I'm alive?" her first words mirrored her immediate thoughts.

"Hey," a tired Jars greeted her, sitting in a chair beside her bed. He was a wreck, his feathers matted in sweat and bags under his eyes. His posture was bent, but he quickly straightened up upon noticing her looking at him.

"Did last night really happen?" Reflection asked, sweeping away the heavy blanket that covered her, and stretching painfully. Every limb in her body ached terribly, but nothing worse than that for now, thank-

Actually, who to thank? Jars had explained to her the pantheon of griffon Gods, and the Equestrians she saw seemed to swear by Celestia - but who would she thank?

"Reflection?" the voice of Jars cut through her mind, and with a start she realized that little train of thought had completely blotted out everything else around her. One moment conversing, and all it took was a moment's errant thought to totally sidetrack her.

Agh! There she went again! What was wrong with her? "Here." she said quietly.

He nodded. "You had that distant look of yours. Anyway, as I said, yes. Yes it did,"

Alright, add completely ignoring someone talking to her from right next to her. "Shoot."

"Yeah," Jars sighed.

A few seconds passed. "Jars," Reflection said finally, breaking the silence, "did you take me to the Equestrians?"

He frowned. "We had a big argument. Then, well," he hesitated, "your limbs started flickering whenever you moved. So we called a pony doctor here instead, and . . ."

The griffon trailed off, and Reflection swallowed nervously. "And?"

"He was a unicorn, and he cast a 'spell restoration' spell." Jars sighed again.

Expecting the worse, he glanced at Reflection. She sat in bed, unmoving, staring straight ahead. With a heavy groan, she fell back on back. "So that's what I am. A spell."

"I'm sorry," was all Jars could offer.

"What did he do after?" Reflection asked softly, screwing her eyes shut.

"He left quickly, and headed off in the direction of the Castle," Jars said, "and the clinic he came from's the other way down the street."

"I feel a little better." Reflection admitted, "but kinda weird. Figures, somepony else's magic is a part of me now."

"We know precious little about magic," Jars said slowly, rubbing the back of head awkwardly, "and the Equestrians surely know what's going on. We might have to fully explain and get their help."

"Jars," she began sharply.

"For your sake." he finished.

She groaned again, and pulled the covers back over her. "Thanks."

He stared at the limp pony and sighed. "Get better, alright?"

Reflection suddenly sat up, her face contorted in disgust. "Bucket." she commanded, holding a hoof to her stomach.

"Wha-"

"My body's rejecting his magic." she said. A guess more than anything, but a guess that sounded logical. Probably.

A bucket was handed over, and she promptly threw up into it.

The vomit glowed a sickly blue.

"That unicorn's magic was blue-" Jars observed, before adding, "eh, guess it's not the time?"

Reflection groaned again and sunk below the covers, the bucket hanging from a hoof that drooped over the bed.

He could hear muffled sobbing.

"Six hundred ninety-three bottles of mead on the wall, six hundred ninety-three! Take one down, pass it around, six hundred ninety-two bottles of mead on the wall!"

Jars deeply regretted teaching Reflection that particular tavern song. She'd waken up the next morning and immediately begun belting out the lyrics, starting at one thousand, and showed no signs of stopping.

"You tell her." Vorsl said, stress tainting his stoic demeanor. The two griffons stood outside the doorway to the infirmary, glancing worriedly at the open window.

Jars stepped in, fidgeting slightly as he waited for Reflection to notice him. Eventually, her singing died down and she turned to face him, a loopy grin on her face.

"Denial . . . " he whispered to himself.

"So? What's up?" she asked cheerily, sitting up in bed. "How's my favorite griffon today?"

"Add crazy, too," he said under his breath. Raising his voice, "Not great."

"Oh?" she asked, cocking her head to the side, "you find out you're nothing more than a thinking, feeling spell?" she spat the last word, despair evident in her cheerful voice.

"I- no," he said, shuffling awkwardly, "well . . ."

"Spit it out," she ordered.

"The Elements of Harmony are standing outside the front door, " he stated, trying to keep his tone neutral, and failing.

It looked like someone had punched her in the gut. "Pinkie Pie's there?" she asked after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah. They asked for the 'clone'." Jars said, regretting his word choice immediately after he closed his beak.

"Figures," she sighed, starting to stiffly get out of the bed.

"They looked pretty frantic," Jars added, helping Reflection to the infirmary door, arm around her shoulder. He tapped her with a claw. "Hey, we'll make it." he said.

She glanced at him, wincing as she limped along. The leg she'd been wounded in had been wrapped in bandages, but they shifted a little and she saw the hole still there. Bigger than before.

"We?" she said, trying to take her mind off of the disturbing sight. One that threatened to break her already stressed sanity.

"We." Jars repeated firmly.

"Thanks," she mumbled, and a small smile tugged her face.

"The Equestrians believe we're trying to cripple the Elements by keeping you," Vorsl said without preamble as they made their way through the hallways of the Embassy.

"Huh?" Reflection asked, blinking at the light streaming through the big windows.

"They've always been suspicious of Crown Princess Vaernya's intentions, but they've grossly misinterpreted this one," the Ambassador continued, "I- I think that Pinkie Pie's Element, Laughter, isn't working."

"Why'd they need the Elements?" Reflection asked, taking a few deep breaths. Panicking would not help the situation.

FUN

She blinked.

FUNFUNF-

She shook her head harshly, grimacing, focusing her thoughts on Vorsl's words. "Klaus said he'd been out on a walk this morning, when a battered pegasus flew into the square. There's some kind of nightmare creature on its way to Canterlot, and the Elements tried to stop it."

"And?" she asked, afraid for the answer.

"They failed. The Element of Laughter didn't work. The messenger was saying something about 'splitting' it."

Reflection gulped. She was just a shadow, right? A reflection? A shard of Pinkie's soul?

The Element of Laughter wouldn't work without a whole Pinkie Pie, and destroying the clones seemed to-

She kept those thoughts to herself, following Jars and Vorsl silently. Looking out a window into the courtyard of the Embassy, she stopped in her tracks upon seeing six figures standing there, with several others behind them, past the gate.

As the griffons looked on, she wiped away some of the grime on the glass, and inhaled sharply. Pinkie Pie stood there, bouncing slightly, a perfect mirror image of her - days ago! That electrifying thought was complemented by noticing her own reflection, transparent but distinct. Distinctly different, that is; the green cloak she'd grabbed at the entrance of the infirmary, the headband holding down her mane, the cuts, bruises, and bags under her eyes built up a very different pony than the pink pony standing outside.

And her whole demeanor. Bent, ragged, tired. None of that boundless energy the original had. In a way, that was comforting

As she stepped out the door, she could feel the stares of the Elements; especially the purple one, the one who tried to make her disappear. Twilight Sparkle, was it?

Her thoughts weren't strictly on them, though. It struck her that this could be her final moments of living; if they didn't do away with her, she'd surely waste away soon. Although the morning was grey, the wind raw, the confines of the courtyard oppressive, they all seemed brighter and livelier than anything she could remember. As she glanced about to ordinary objects, she breathed out and stared straight ahead.

The calm of accepting one's fate descended on her.

"Twilight Sparkle," Vorsl stated, as the two groups stood to face each other.

"Ambassador," Twilight replied, but her attention wasn't on the griffon.

"The game's over, clone," the rainbow Element - Loyalty, was it? - said harshly.

"Rainbow Dash!" the white one, Generosity, said.

"What?" Dash said, pointing both forelegs at Reflection. "It's right there! Just blast her and get it over with! That nightmare isn't slowing down!"

"She-" Jars began.

"We're thankful you decided to help us, Ambassador," Twilight said, nodding to the griffon. Closing her eyes, her horn started to glow-

"Hey!" Reflection spoke up, unable to sit by idly anymore. "I'm right here!"

"Who said that?" Twilight asked, glancing around. "Pinkie, is that you? Now isn't the time to be throwing your voice around!"

"Hey." Reflection repeated, drawing the gaze of everyone around her.

"What's with your voice?" Twilight asked, cocking her head at the pony.

Reflection sighed. "Sounds different, don't it? Of course, that won't make a different when you kill me, huh?"

"What's wrong with you?" Twilight asked yet again, confusion evident.

"J-just get it over with." Reflection said, her voice breaking slightly. "You want to use the Elements, you have to get rid of me. I get it."

"No, I don't," Twilight said, furrowing her brow, "these are abstract concepts, yet you're just a spell; I can sense it unraveling as we speak. I don't even know how you lasted this long."

"Don't remind me," Reflection huffed. "Anyway, it was nice knowing you. I'm - I was, Reflection." And with that, she closed her eyes serenely. Only to be slapped by Jars.

"Snap out of it!" he hissed. "You made it this far, you're not giving up now!"

"They named you?" Twilight asked.

"I named myself," Reflection sighed, "fitting, huh? It's all I am."

"Wait, wait," Twilight said, her horn losing its glow, "you're saying you named yourself? You know you're a spell?"

"I know I'm gonna die," Reflection said quietly, but harshly. "I just want to get it over with. Waiting is the worst part. I can feel my thoughts slipping away . . ."

"You can think?" Twilight asked.

"Yeah."

"Beyond, say, a simple idea like 'fun'?"

"Yes!" Reflection snapped.

"Hey, everypony," a new voice butted in. It was Pinkie Pie. Reflection flinched at her presence, her thoughts starting to degenerate into a whirl of FUN-

"She's a pony!" Pinkie continued.

"The nightmare, Pinkie!" Twilight reminded her, then processed her words. "Wha- she's a spell!"

"No, she's a pony." Pinke repeated. "I can feel it; she's like me, but . . . different!"

"Yeah, listen to her!" Jars cut in.

"B-but the Element of Laughter . . ." Twilight trailed off.

"We can share, can't we?" Pinkie said, giving a lopsided grin to Reflection. For her part, she returned it as best she could.

"This wasn't the plan," Twilight sighed.

"She's a vowed subject of Crown Princess Vaeryna. I wouldn't hurt her." Vorsl said with a fierce glare.

Twilight smiled wryly. "Don't you mean High King Graesl?"

"Right, right." Vorsl snarled. "I'm sure she'll help you."

Seeing a glimmer of hope, Reflection jumped at it. "Yes! I will!"

"A Seventh Element of Harmony?" Twilight asked, blinking. "That sounds like a foal's fantasy."

"Not my fault I exist." Reflection observed, drawing a stare from Twilight.

"I have so many questions . . ." Twilight muttered, then turned to the horizon. "Come on, then. We've got a monster to banish."

"So, what's it like?" Twilight asked, as the group made its way down the winding paths of Canterlot. The black stain of the nightmare was moving up along the river fed by the Canterlot Waterfall; they'd explained the nightmare forces had attacked the city decades ago, but not at this strength. It had taken the form of an army, used weapons of dark magic. This time, it was just a huge, ethereal black shadow.

Truthfully, Reflection didn't fully understand all the details, but the basic concept was simple enough; big monster coming to Canterlot. She could hear the rising panic of the city, screams of alarm echoing off the walls and driving into her ears, reminding her of the responsibility that had been thrust into her hooves.

"Huh?" Reflection asked.

"Being a spell. What can you think about? Are there things you can't comprehend?" Twilight asked, clearly intending to go on, but cut off by a sharp glare from Jars. The griffon had refused to stay at the Embassy, opting instead to stay loyally by his cook's side.

His friend's side? That thought was desperate, yet hopeful. She hoped it was true . . .

Oh right. Twilight Sparkle. "I dunno." she said, shivering at the wind. A side-effect of the Canterlot weather team's attempt to stop the nightmare, she'd been told. A failed attempt, apparently.

"Wow," Twilight breathed, "you really are another pony. This is incredible! The mirror pool created life!"

"I don't know about that, silly," Pinkie Pie spoke up from the front of the group. "I think she created life!"

"This is ground-breaking," Twilight continued, heedless.

"There it is!" the orange pony, the Element of Honesty, yelled. Black tendrils snaked over the edge of the nearest hill, an unearthly glow coming out of them. Sickly blue, with the taint of dark magic.

"Alright girls!" Twilight said, turning to the Elements, "let's do this!"

"Wait, wait," Reflection said, yet again drawing the stares of everyone in the vicinity. "I- I don't know what to do! How do I make it work?"

"Shoot." Honesty breathed.

"Oh, no," Twilight agreed.

"Just how am I supposed to be the Element of Laughter? I haven't laughed in like, a day!" Reflection exclaimed.

"She's been kinda occupied with slowly dying," Jars added unhelpfully.

"I- oh, no." Twilight repeated. To Reflection's horror, her horn started to glow - then, stopped, as Twilight bit her lip in frustration.

"Oh, no . . ." Reflection echoed. "We didn't really think this out, did we?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, hearing the cry of the nightmare in the distance, feeling the rough cobblestones under her hooves. She wasn't the Element of Laughter. She was another pony, different - and yet, they couldn't use the Elements without her.

But they could use them without her, couldn't they?

She shook off the thought, and opened her eyes as a hoof was put to her shoulder. She turned her head, ignoring the Elements and griffons now arguing, ignoring the flash as the sunlight glinted off a Jars' drawn axe. Pinkie Pie stood there, greeting her with a surprisingly serious, yet genuine smile.

"Hey there, me." Pinkie said.

"What do you want?" Reflection snapped, then sighed sadly, "I'm sorry. I- I just, there's so much to take in. So many things happening, I- I didn't ask for it."

"No, I'm sorry." Pinkie said, frowning slightly. "I thought the mirror pool was the solution to my problem. I didn't think of the consequences, and look where we are."

"What? Sorry?" Reflection said, shaking her head, "No, no. Whatever happens, if, no, when Twilight there decides my created life is less important than the safety of a city - which, I can't really blame her when she does - I'm glad I had this at all."

Reflection glanced to her hoof, which flickered at the movement. "J-just tell Twilight to do it. I'll go back to the mirror pool, lose mysel- no, even faster, she can just cast a spell that undoes another one. That'll work, right?" she laughed bitterly.

The look on Pinkie's face told her that wasn't the laughter she was looking. "Look, Reflection," she started, getting a grateful smile from the pony at saying her name, "you don't need to be me, to be the Element of Laughter."

"But I am you." Reflection said, frowning.

"Silly, I see it in you!" Pinkie reassured her, wincing as Jars screamed at one of Elements, "You're a different pony!"

"Coming from you . . ." Reflection trailed off with a hopeful smile.

Pinkie nodded quickly. "Of course! Remember how Celestia and Luna used the Elements in the past?"

"Not really." Reflection admitted.

"Well, they did! Celestia's like that Vorsl over there, all wise and noble. Could you imagine him acting like me?"

Reflection thought back to her first hours. "Heh, no." she said, cracking a wry grin.

"Exactly," Pinkie said, poking Reflection in the chest, "being the Element of Laughter isn't about laughing. I became its bearer because I laughed off my fears; look at you!"

Reflection looked down at herself quizzically.

Pinkie laughed at that. "I think almost any other pony would be really afraid right now! You're all accepting and resigned, ready to sacrifice yourself!"

"If you put it like that . . ."

"And, laughter isn't about laughing at everything. It's about finding joy in the little things, being thankful and happy for the things most ponies are too familiar with to appreciate!" Pinkie continued, matching Reflection's growing smile. "You stepped out to meet us, and what were you doing? Being grateful for the simple little things around you, the wind, the morning-"

"How did you know about that?"

Pinkie winked. "And you can appreciate that more than most." she said, finishing with a loopy smile. "Look, whatever happens, I know you're up to it, alright?"

Reflection breathed in deeply, then exhaled with a sigh. "I think I know what you're getting at."

Pinkie jumped back with a grin. "Alright! Let's go! When these babies do their thing, it'll go all tingly, and then wham! Goodbye monster!"

"Ahem." Reflection said to the arguing ponies and griffons, the nightmare growing uncomfortably close.

"Hey!" Pinkie said loudly, and everyone stopped and stared at the two. "I think we're all sorted out."

A pause followed, and Reflection took a deep breath. The nightmare's screams were the only thing in the air.

"I'm grateful for the little things," Reflection said quietly, "thankful for Jars, my first friend; for the wind, for the sky-"

"And, you're really brave, too." Pinkie added, grinning wildly as a light wind was stirred up, seemingly by the mere words, "you face your fears and accept them."

"I sure laughed at the bar last night," Reflection said, laughing a little in the present, "but that isn't what the Element of Laughter has to be about."

"It's about taking what you get and being happy with it." Pinkie said, turning to the other Elements. "Come on, girls! Rarity, where's your generosity? Fluttershy, can you spare some kindness for this poor pony? Applejack, let's be honest; you don't really want her to disappear, to you? You know she's a real pony-"

As she spoke, the wind whipped around the Elements. As Pinkie's voice was drowned out by the combined howling of the wind and of the nightmare, almost upon them, the Elements around all their necks began to glow.

Pinkie slowly unclasped the Element from her neck, and offered it to Reflection. The pony took it with a shaking hoof, and together, they soared off the ground, eyes bright with magic. They were soon followed by the Elements.

"Wow," Jars breathed.

A glittering rainbow smashed into the nightmare, blowing it away like any normal fog. Its screams faded away as a round of cheering could be heard coming from the city, most not noticing the fact there were seven ponies up there, protecting them.

As Reflection opened her eyes, absolute power flowing through her, she looked down at her flickering form. The pain was beginning to seep through her euphoria - honestly, what else did she expect from using an object of supremely powerful magic?

A thought occurred to her. A crazy, insane thought. But she had nothing to lose. She glanced around forlornly at the griffons, her friends; to the trees, to the stones. She didn't know what would happen, but maybe she wanted that. She'd spent all of her short life fighting against fate; maybe, just this once, it was time to put herself entirely willingly in fate's hands. She was just going to die anyway. Whatever happened, she'd have no regrets.

Bowing to the will of one, and the dissent of none, the Elements of Harmony sprang into action again. The rainbow blast that was chasing the nightmare away reformed into a solid beam, to the surprise of the others.

And that beam of light returned, to strike Reflection head-on, her body silhouetted against the blinding kaleidoscope of magical colors.

Her vision faded to black, and she didn't fight it.

Author's Note

Whoa, did I write that all in one day? Yes, I did.

One epilogue to go.