Twilight stepped out of the train car and onto the busy platform of Canterlot's Grand Central Station. The vast structure was the first thing newcomers saw when they arrived, and yet it looked nothing like the gilded ivory towers throughout the rest of the city. This terminal was more like a warehouse: a single open space enclosed by a curved roof of glass and steel latticework. The concrete floor was paved with marble pathways and divided into shallow pools by short, winding stairwells.
There had been complaints from the upper class about the structure's modern, mechanical design. But when crowded, it was a picture frame: the colorful occupants vibrant and bright against the steel gray backdrop. The air carried the perfumes and spices of foreign lands. The cold metal girders did nothing to dampen the warm embraces of friends and families on the verge of being united or divided. Canterlot's “soul” was most resplendent in its theaters and galleries, and its “mind” was evident in its libraries and universities. But here, the lifeblood of an entire civilization pulsed. There could be no argument that Grand Central Station was anything but the beating heart of a thriving city.
"Isn't it amazing?" Twilight said, walking through the main archway. "It's only four years old: the first example of modern architecture in the city!"
There was no response.
"Rainbow Dash?" She said and glanced to each side. She was alone in the crowd.
She turned back and scanned the platform. A constant stream of arrivals and departures were parading past each other. Even in such a diverse herd, Rainbow Dash's wild and colorful mane was easy to pick out. She was gliding low to the ground with her nose nestled in a hardcover novel. She blundered past a number of ponies that were struggling with their luggage, and her leisurely pace was backing up the crowd behind her.
Twilight went over and tapped her shoulder. “You need to clear the platform. And for goodness sake, stop flying!”
“Uh huh.” Rainbow Dash continued to glide a few inches above the floor.
Twilight heard a sharp whistle. She glanced to one side and saw a station attendant in a crisp blue uniform waving at them sternly from the archways.
“Dash!” Twilight said and yanked her down. “Four on the floor!”
“What’s the big deal?” said Rainbow Dash. “I wasn’t that high up!”
Twilight pointed at the nearest of many large red signs covered with bold block lettering: Danger: Absolutely no flying on the platform.
“Sorry,” said Rainbow Dash, returning to her book. Her eyes widened. “Dude... snake people!”
Twilight continued on towards the station. “Haven’t you read that one already?”
“Only six times. Today.”
“Six?” said Twilight. “The whole book?”
“Nah. Just the last part of the last chapter. It’s the best part of the book... maybe even the whole series!”
“But you’ve already read it; You know how it ends.”
“Yup. And it’s still good.” Dash gasped. “Dude! Snake people with arms! Six arms!”
“You might want to put it away for a little while; We’ve arrived.”
Dash flipped to the next page. “We’re at the university?”
“No, but we are at the Canterlot station,” said Twilight with a smile. “Grand Central Station in fact! Don’t you want to see?”
“Eh. Let me know when we’re at the university.”
Twilight set her hoof on the top of Rainbow Dash’s book and slowly tilted it down. Dash looked across the elegantly arranged hall and up at the slanted glass-and-steel roof that enclosed it. Crowds of ponies rushed back and forth, and attendants in bright blue uniforms answered questions or offered directions. A number of attendants were pulling long trains of luggage trolleys and calling out cabin numbers. One attendant pulled a long train of high-school colts and fillies, giving a speech she’d long since memorized. Even their schoolteacher gazed at his surroundings with childlike wonder.
“Isn’t it amazing?” said Twilight. "It's the first example of a modern—”
“It’s okay,” Dash said and went back to her book. “Let me know when we’re at the university.”
“Okay!?” Twilight walked inside and began scanning the various luggage trains. “It’s a historic building, and the first of its kind! I thought you’d at least take a minute to appreciate it. It’s one of my favorite modern structures. It symbolizes the progress of industry and transportation, and serves as an homage to the unity brought about by the Trans-Equestria railroad.”
“Haven’t you been here before?”
“Oh, yes! I visit it whenever I can. I have a royal pass that’s good for one free personal trip every month, but I also get summoned for the occasional project. I’ll take any excuse to go!”
“But you’ve already seen it. You know how it ends.”
“That doesn’t make the architecture any less amazing. In fact, it’s even more impressive each time I—”
Twilight’s lecturing tone came to an abrupt halt. Dash kept her mischievous smirk half-hidden behind the book.
Twilight rolled her eyes with a good-natured smile. “Point taken.”
“Luggage for cabin twelve! Luggage for cabin twelve!”
“That’s us! Come on!” Twilight ran to the long line of trolleys and picked out a pair of suitcases. “Do you see yours anywhere?”
“I’m good.” Dash lightly slapped the back of her hoof against the page. “How is she supposed to survive this, anyways? Sure, snakes are scary. All ponies are scared of snakes—except Fluttershy, I guess—but snake people? Giant, immortal, snake-people mummies with six arms and six magic swords?”
Twilight’s horn glowed and a pair of suitcases and a set of saddlebags lifted up from the stack. “Very exciting I’m sure. Do you see your luggage anywhere?”
“Nope. I bet they used to be kings or queens or something, what with all the gold jewelry they wear. Hey, that would be a great title for a book! Daring Do Versus the King of the Snake People! I’d totally read it.”
“Dash, please. Did you even look?”
“Nah. Didn’t bring any luggage.” Dash flipped to an earlier bookmark. “Daring Do is terrified of snakes. Even just regular ones.”
“No luggage?” said Twilight, ears twitching. “You didn’t bring anything?”
“I got my carry-on. Toothbrush, some cash, and a couple books.” Dash lifted a tote bag that was packed to the brim with hardcover novels. “We’ll only be here a day or two, right?”
“That was the plan, yes. But you never know.” Twilight took out a letter. “The university offered to pay for lodgings and expenses, but that only covers the bare essentials. If something unexpected were to happen, we’d have to deal with it ourselves.”
Dash rolled her eyes. “You’re pals with Celestia, aren’t you? If something comes up, we can just ask her for help.”
A mare beside them dressed in a stylish, extravagant dress sputtered at the mention. “The Princess!?”
Twilight pulled Dash close and lowered her voice. “The university’s Department of Ancient History has a project in the works. They requested help from the Princess, and she sent me here on assignment. She’s trusting me to take care of this for her; If we immediately turn around and ask her for help, we won’t seem very competent.”
“You could ask for a little favor, right?”
“I already did,” said Twilight. “I let you come with me.”
“Oh. Yeah.”
Dash followed Twilight at a low glide as they passed through the streets of Canterlot. The station was only a few blocks from the academic district, and Twilight had been eager to see some old and familiar sights. Dash spent the entire time with her nose in a book. She knew they were following a cobblestone path with bright-green grass on either side, but that was about it.
“...So then the Edge Beasts from the World of Beyond finally used the jade idol to break into the World of Light. They aren’t strong enough to do that on their own, especially since the secret Saffron Society uses their sorcery to prevent new portals from opening. But the society can’t close a portal that’s already open!”
“Dash?”
“So now that the Edge Beasts have finally opened a portal, you’d think they’d swarm all over the World of Light... but they don’t! And it’s never explained why! You wanna know what I think?”
“Dash!” Twilight waved a hoof in her face.
“Okay, already! Sheesh. What is it?”
“Don’t you want to see what the university looks like?”
“Oh, right. Just a sec.” Dash stepped next to Twilight and held the book up so they could both see it. She flipped to the inside of the front cover to reveal a double-page ink illustration of a large campus. “Okay, so there’s three buildings arranged in a triangle with a courtyard in the middle. See that building on the left? That’s where—”
Twilight set her hoof on the top of Rainbow Dash’s book and slowly tilted it down. Dash watched as a nearly identical scene met her eyes: the lush, cultivate courtyard of Canterlot’s oldest university had come alive with color and motion. There were three buildings arranged in a triangle: massive, brown-brick mansions with rows of ornate window sills. Portions of the walls were overgrown with curly ivy and bright red blossoms. Great banners hung from the balconies and rippled gently in the breeze.
They walked along the smooth pathway that curved through the courtyard and under the crowns of blossoming cherry trees. A thick carpet of pink petals covered the manicured lawn, and groundskeepers with wide brooms worked tirelessly to sweep the paths. The trees were more than mere ornaments. First year students on folding ladders harvested the dark-red cherries, to be sold by the basketful at a nearby stand.
The light crowd of scholars and professors ignored Twilight and Rainbow Dash as they passed. Even the youngest students carried themselves with a dignified and professional air. The uniforms here were crisp and clean, but old in spirit: dress shirts and suspenders, long coats with tails, or gray sundresses and parasols. Formal attire included bow-ties and ascots instead of neckties. Younger foals—couriers rather than students—rushed about at a full gallop with messenger bags slung across their chests. They wore miniature button-down shirts and newsboy caps.
Dash glanced between the campus and the illustration. “I don’t believe it! It’s almost exactly the same!”
Twilight nodded and walked through the double-doors of the central building. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the author used this university for inspiration. It’s a very well known campus, and a lot of other places copied the architectural style.”
Dash followed Twilight into the central building and stared at the grand hallway. “But it looks so real!” She tapped a nearby coat rack.
“Probably because it is real,” Twilight said.
“No, I mean... I feel like I’ve been here a hundred times. I can picture it when I close my eyes.” Dash looked up at the grand mural of the night sky that adorned the ceiling. “Daring Do grew up in a university just like this one. It’s the only home she’s ever known... and now I’m there!”
“You know,” Twilight said, “the author could have attended this university. It would certainly explain the level of detail.”
“Wow... you think so?” Dash hovered higher and peered at a painting. “Nopony actually knows who the author is, he uses a pen-name and everything. Big mystery. Could you imagine meeting him in person?”
“Excuse me, miss,” said a distinguished, elderly stallion in a black suit. “I’ll have to ask you to keep your hooves on the floor. The university has a strict no-flying policy for non-employees.”
“Oh! Right.” Dash lowered herself to the floor and folded her wings. “So, are you a tour guide or something? Can we get a tour?”
The stallion looked at Twilight. “Is she...?”
“Yes, she’s with me.” Twilight performed a flawless curtsey. “Thank you for greeting me in person, Dean.”
“Dean?” Rainbow Dash said. “That’s kind of a funny nickname. How’d you get it?”
Twilight bit her lip. “Professor Sandstone is the Dean of Social Sciences and Hippology. He sits on the board of directors.”
Sandstone nodded to Dash. “Will she be contributing to the project directly?”
“Oh, no. She’s my plus one.”
Sandstone arched an eyebrow. “Your what?”
“My... ancillary. Of a sort.”
“Ah, yes. In that case, I believe this is for you.” Sandstone took out a passcard on a necklace and gave it to Dash. “This will grant you access to the university’s archaeological branch. You can enter just about any room that isn’t locked.”
Dash grinned and hung the passcard around her neck. “Thank you so much! This is, by far, the coolest... thing... ever!”
“Quite,” Sandstone said. “But please try to be as quiet, and as careful, as possible.”
Dash nodded. “Sure thing, Dean!”
“My preliminary analysis shouldn’t take long,” Twilight said. “We can meet up an hour from now, in the café. Do you know where that is? The one in the foyer?”
“Are you kidding? I could find it blindfolded!”
“Really?” Sandstone said. “Have you been here before?”
“Lots of times!” Dash said and skipped away. “Just not in real life.”
Sandstone watched her skip down the hall, then turned to Twilight.
“Sorry,” she said. “She’s a big fan of the books.”
“Ah. The centennial photographic anthology, you mean? Or the newsletter compilation?”
“No, the ah... story books,” said Twilight. “Haven’t you heard of them?”
Sandstone offered the slightest sniff. “I don’t read fiction.”
Dash skipped down the main central hall and glanced at the pictures on display. The hall’s wood panel walls were two stories high, and some of the pictures were way up high. The ones near the front foyer were all paintings. She moved further down the hall and spotted a few ink prints and black-and-white photographs... and then the ceiling.
The curved ceiling wasn’t just a mural of the night sky. It was a star chart: a painting of a midnight-blue sky filled with stars, with silver lines that linked them into recognizable constellations. These diagrams had been overlaid with rich illustrations of mythical beasts and legendary animals. It was the sort of wood-print line art you’d find in an old storybook: The Scorpion, The Weigh Scales, The Hierophant, The Fox and the Hare, The Gryphon. Dash gasped as she recognized a few other real animals as well.
How old is this mural? Did they copy it from something even older?
Dash strolled along with her neck craned up. A bright glimmer caught her eye. The lines between the stars weren’t painted on at all. They were metal bars set against the gentle curvature of the ceiling. She spread her wings and drifted up for a closer look.
Is that real silver?
“No flying, miss!”
“I wasn’t—!” Dash dropped back to the floor. “I wasn’t really gonna fly.”
The custodian leaned on his mop and gave her a stern look. “Just don’t let it happen again.”
“Sorry. Really. I just wanted a closer look, is all. That’s a really cool painting you got there!”
“Well if you like it so much, you can admire it the same way you admire the real night sky.”
Dash straightened up. “Really? How’s that?”
“From the ground,” he said and went back to his mopping. “And try not to scuff the floors. Don’t you have any indoor shoes to change into?”
“I didn’t... pack any. Didn’t think I’d need any.”
He grunted and went back to his mopping.
Dash looked at the floor, bashful at first. Her eyes widened as she saw what the custodian was mopping. The floor was set with a mosaic of stone tiles in varying dusty shades of blue, green and brown. The tiles were cut into the shape of mountains, forests and seas. The resulting textures were criss-crossed with the curving black lines of roads and borders, all labeled in flowing cursive script. Great care had been taken to make the mosaic resemble an old-fashioned map, complete with faded patches and splatters of ink droplets, all in carved stone. The only exceptions were a small number of metal plates set into the floor at various locations. They were engraved with the names of cities and towns, and the names, birthdays and job titles of professors and researchers. Dash gasped as she caught sight of a particular place name.
“Alamar Knot... no way! It’s a real place!?” She knelt down on her front knees and examined the engraving. “It’s even right next to a river and everything!”
The custodian glanced her way. “Well it is a real map, after all.”
“I totally have to go there after I’m done here! Do you know how I can find it? Is there, like, a smaller map I can have?”
“You can’t,” he said. “It doesn’t exist anymore... used to be a mining village. It disappeared after the aluminum rush petered out.”
“That’s not fair!”
He shrugged. “The map on the floor is a hundred years old. A lot can happen in a century.”
“That’s kind of dumb. Can’t you keep your floors up-to-date?”
He glowered at her for a moment and returned to his task without a word.
Dash looked back at the floor and watched the lines leading away from the nonexistent township. “Hey, there’s Alfalfa Pass... and there’s Blue Roan Bridge, right across Bascule Gorge! It really is like in the books!” Dash glanced around the hall and saw only a few other ponies in view.
Come on, Gear Box! We’ve only got three days to reach Coffin Bone Gulch, and you’re the only airship pilot with the guts to get us there! I knew there was a good reason I broke you out of prison! Dash lowered her head and followed one of the lines with her nose pressed to the floor. I know you don’t give a darn about saving the world, but can you resist the chance to set a world record?
Rainbow Dash hunkered down and flexed her shoulders. All right, Daring. You may be crazy, but you’re my kind of crazy! Dash spread her wings and pounced forward, slowly gliding a few inches above the map. She ticked off the miles as lines and labels passed beneath her. She could almost see a bright red line following in her wake and a faint layer of clouds drifting between her and the map...
“Miss! No flying!”
“Sorry! I wasn’t...” She dropped down and planted her hooves on the floor. “I wasn’t gonna!”
The main foyer ran all the way through the building with three smaller hallways branching off each side. Dash strolled through the first one to her right and passed by a dozen little lecture halls and offices. Instead of paintings and prints, the walls here were lined with glass display cases. She peered at the shelves full of awards and accolades; she saw articles from newspapers and journals that had been clipped out and framed. Many were accompanied by black and white photos of students and professors shaking hooves with more important ponies.
She skimmed the associated news clippings and examined the faces in the pictures. She didn’t recognize any of them, but they looked very important. Some of the photos were smudged and blotchy, but not through neglect: one of the Daring Do books had mentioned an older style of photography where pictures were developed entirely by hoof. These days, darkrooms had all sorts of machines to help improve quality.
After only a minute, she reached the end of the long hallway. She turned around and went back, looking through every door she passed for anything interesting. One led to a small lecture hall, with a massive chalkboard that was covered with diagrams and writing. She went in and stared at the indecipherable script. After awhile, she went back to the front foyer and searched the next hallway. The rooms there were all the same: offices and small classrooms. The display cases here were filled with yearbook posters and graduation photos. The awards and trophies were all related to scholarships and honor students.
Dash glanced down the hallway and saw only one other pony who wasn’t busy. She went to the stallion and cleared her throat. “Ah... excuse me?”
“Yes?” he said.
“So, there’s a whole lot of displays here. And that’s totally cool. But where’s all the artifacts?”
He arched an eyebrow. “Beg pardon?”
“Artifacts. You know, the ancient stuff. Like jewelry and carved urns and haunted sacrificial daggers. Where do you keep those?”
“The university doesn’t retain evidence for display.”
“You don’t?” said Dash, eyes wide. “Then what do you study? You’ve gotta study something, right?”
“It’s not really my area of expertise, but I’m fairly certain the research teams are content to examine reports and photographs.”
“Well, okay. But who writes those reports? Who takes those photos?”
“Whoever’s at the excavation site, I imagine. They collect data and send it to the university team. They examine the data and send back requests for more specific information.”
Dash frowned. “You mean you don’t actually look at stuff here? That’s dumb.”
The stallion bristled. “And what if they need to study a grave site or a ruined building? We can’t very well bring back an entire excavation site.”
“Well yeah, but... you could bring bits and pieces.”
“And wouldn’t that destroy the site we’re trying to study?”
Dash swallowed a lump in her throat. “Well, I guess, maybe—”
“You could check the cataloging rooms.”
Rainbow Dash and the stallion turned to look at the young mare who’d paused while walking past. She was dressed in a long white lab coat and knee-high rubberized socks. An air-mask and a pair of goggles hung from her neck.
“The what?” said Dash.
“The cataloging rooms. It’s where we start the post-excavation analysis. Once the archaeologists have finished their fieldwork, they pack up as many interesting fragments as they can. They send them to us with a report on the stratigraphic sequence.”
The stallion quirked an eyebrow. “The strati-what?”
“The... I know that!” said Dash. “Stratigraphy is the study of, like, layers of rocks and dirt and stuff! You can tell how old something is by how deep it’s buried!”
“Right,” said the mare, “but that’s only a small part of it. We do all sorts of post-excavation work here. I’m a palynologist, myself.”
The stallion frowned. “Wh—”
“Pollen!” Dash said. “You study pollen, right?”
“Pollens and spores, mostly.” The mare tilted her head. “You actually know about it? My own mother can barely remember what I do for a living.”
“Nevermind that. Where’s all the artifacts? Why aren’t they on display?”
“Because we’re not a museum,” said the mare. “We only keep evidence long enough to clean it up and categorize it. It can take a long time, though.” She nodded further down the hall. “I heard we got a shipment from the O-Mok-See Pas-Kan dig site. They might still be sorting things.”
Dash’s eyes glittered. “Do you think they’d let me watch?”
“Probably,” she said. “You’ve got a royal attendant’s pass. You’d have to be polite, though. And very quiet. The lead professor is a bit of grouch.”
The stallion pointed at Dash. “She’s a royal attendant?”
Dash hopped in place. “Thank you so much! I better hurry before I miss anything!” She took a couple long strides down the hall and flexed her wings.
“No flying, miss!” the stallion said.
Dash’s gait slowed. “I wasn’t gonna. Geez!”
Dash ran down the hallway and looked through every door but none of the rooms looked anything like a laboratory. She walked to the end of the hall and came to one of the building’s side entrances. She glanced out through the window of the door. There in the parking lot was a large, unmarked shipping carriage.
She opened the door and peeked outside. This part of the campus wasn’t nearly as cultivated as the central courtyard. The parking lot and roads were made of smooth pavement and surrounded by a wall of huge trees. There was nopony else in sight. She stepped outside and went to the back of the carriage. She gasped as she saw stacks of wooden crates covered with labels and stamps: judging by the postage, they’d come a long way.
She leaned further in, but flinched back as she heard the heavy side-door slam shut. She ran to the far side of the carriage and hovered high enough to hide her feet. She slowly rolled in mid air until she was upside-down, then peeked under the bottom of the carriage. She could see the legs of a pair of burly stallions dressed in heavy overalls.
Oh-mi-gosh... they’re coming this way!
She dove into the nearby wall of trees and shrubs and peered out from behind the foliage. The two laborers went to the back of the carriage and carefully moved a crate onto a four-wheeled moving dolly: a low metal framework with springy supports. The workers were gruff-looking and filthy with sweat and dust, but they worked with extreme care. These were no ordinary laborers.
Thought you could move ’em without being noticed, eh? Dash glowered at them as they moved the box. Not on my watch!
She waited for them to enter the building before bursting out of the shrubbery and racing for the side entrance. She lifted the handle and, ever so carefully, opened the door. She slipped through and kept it from slamming shut.
The laborers were still rolling the crate down the hallway. Dash sidled along the wall and hid behind each of the display cases in turn. She watched as her quarry went through a pair of reinforced metal doors.
Time for our intrepid adventurer to find out what’s really going on!
She took a running start but slid to a halt.
Oh, yeah. No flying. A smirk crept over her face as she flexed her right wing. I can’t fly anyways... not after a crash like that. Looks like I’ll have to do this the hard way!
She ran ahead and skidded to a halt as the double doors opened wide again. She glanced about the hall: no nearby display cases, no shelves, no boxes... nothing. She dove through a doorway and held it open a crack to listen for hoofbeats. A pair of ponies approached the door—heavy-set and wearing outdoor shoes—and passed by. Dash released a sigh of relief and went back into the hall.
She ran to the double doors just as they began to swing shut. She leaped over a drinking fountain and dove under wall mounted fire extinguisher—Poison gas traps! What kind of amateur do they take me for?—and dove the last few feet. She slid across the floor and thrust a hoof between the doors just in time to wedge them open. She stood up, opened the door, and slipped into the dark room beyond with her back to the wall.
All right, Daring. Time to blow the lid off this entire—
Dash yelped as the room flooded with light. This room had none of the fine marble or hardwood finish that decorated the rest of the building: it was clean and white. On the right half of the room were rows of large metal shelves filled with tiny boxes and sealed bags. The far wall was one giant bookshelf packed with huge, messy binders. The left wall of the room had a long white countertop that was clean and empty.
“Excuse me, miss.” An elderly pony in a long white lab coat approached from a side door and fixed her with a steely gaze. He had a bushy, distinguished mustache and spoke with a thick, foreign accent. A pair of similarly dressed subordinates followed after him: nameless and faceless under their masks and goggles. “Just what do you think you’re doing here?”
Dash stamped the floor. “That belongs in a museum!”
The professor glanced at the crates. “But it was the museum that sent them to us for authentication. Was there a problem with the paperwork?”
Dash sighed. “Geez, you guys! It was a joke! Did you even bother to read the books?”
The elderly stallion glared at her for a moment. He waved at his assistants, who began marching towards her.
“No-no-no wait, lemme just watch!” They grabbed her from both sides and began pushing her back. Her hooves scratched against the floor as she struggled to stay put. “I just wanna see what’s in the box! Just a quick peek! I swear I’ll be quiet! You won’t even know I’m there!”
They pushed her out into the hall and went back inside. Dash shot to her hooves and hovered by the door as it clicked shut.
She lifted up her necklace and held it towards the soundproof metal doors. “I’ve got a royal pass, you goobers! Show some respect why don't cha?”
Dash trudged through the aisles of the main library, glancing dully at the endless rows of encyclopedias. The shelf to her left contained multiple copies of the same set of reference books, over and over. The only difference was the year in which they’d originally been published. She tugged a book from the shelf and flipped through it. The text was too tiny to read without a magnifying glass: eight hundred pages about irrigation tools.
This isn’t like in the stories... not at all.
Dash tossed the book back on the shelf and continued down the aisle. The whole library seemed to blur together into one giant, tedious maze. She turned a corner and nearly bumped into another pegasus.
“Sorry,” Dash said. “Didn’t see you there.”
The mare gave her the briefest of nods. “S’alright.” Her voice was slightly raspy.
Dash continued down the aisle. After only a few steps, her daze lifted. She came to a halt and stared straight ahead, at nothing in particular.
Wait. What?
Dash peered around the bookshelf. There, browsing the encyclopedias, was the pegasus she’d nearly bumped into. Her coat was a faded mustard yellow, and her mane was a gradient of grays... yet she was still a young mare. She wore an old-fashioned blouse and skirt—both olive colored—and a pair of official-looking saddlebags.
No way... she looks just like her!
Dash stared, dreamlike, as the mare took a book from the shelf and flipped to a particular page. She took out a small, timeworn journal and jotted a few notes.
Unbelievable... it really is her! Dash looked her over, scrutinizing her closely. Except for the threads. I just can’t imagine her wearing a...
The pegasus’s head snapped around, alert. Dash gasped as she locked eyes with the stranger. She recoiled out of sight and pressed her back against the end of the bookshelf, reared up on her hind legs. She held her breath and kept silent. Her pulse was loud in her ears.
Intense!
Dash swallowed, hard, and forced herself to relax. She took several deep breaths and strolled back around the corner.
“Hey! D’you...” Dash froze as she saw the empty aisle. She scrambled back and searched the other bookshelves. The pegasus was in the next aisle over, tucking a book into her saddlebag.
Dash walked over, whistling to herself. “Oh, hey!”
The pegasus turned to look at her, sedate. “Hello.”
Dash rocked back and forth for a moment, mind racing.
The pegasus gave her a slight frown. “...Hello?”
“Hey! Yeah. So... do you come here often?”
The pegasus watched her for a moment. She then looked at her book bag, embroidered with a gold shield that was framed by a pair of unicorns on each side and a latin motto across the top. It was the same heraldic emblem that was prominently displayed throughout every room and hallway of the university.
“Yes. Yes, I do.”
“Oh! Right... you’re probably working.” Dash peered at her. “Are you working?”
“I was.”
“Yeah... yeah. I’m probably...” Dash turned away, rolling her eyes. “I should probably... let you get back to it.”
“Thank you.”
Dash spun back to her. “This is probably a really weird question. You probably hear it all the time... and I know it’s weird.”
The pegasus stepped back, warily. “I’m a little busy.”
“Right, right. Sorry.” Dash stepped closer. “Listen, do you read a lot? You look like you read a lot. Do you read? A lot?”
The pegasus’s eyes flicked over the bookshelves. “Some, yes. Why?”
“Cause I read! Like... a lot! I figured, you know... we might like some of the same books. What kinda books ya read?”
“References, mostly... scientific journals.”
“Yeah, yeah. I figured you were an egghead. But what do you read for fun?”
“References. Scientific journals.”
“Right... right.” Dash said. “So are you, like... what do you do here? Are you studying something? What classes are you taking?”
“I’m semi-retired from teaching.” She turned back to her book. “I’m a professor, but I spend my summers on research and fieldwork. Sitting behind a desk was starting to drive me up the wall.”
“Wow! That is so awesome!”
“Thank you... I think.” She turned to face her. “Miss Dash, is there something I can do for you?”
Dash’s eyes widened. “You know my name!”
“It’s on your identification card.”
“Oh... yeah. Right.” Dash gave a nervous giggle, punctuated with a snort. “Can’t get anything past you, can I?”
“So you have a royal attendant’s passcard. Are you here on royal business?”
“Nah. My friend is taking care of something. I’m just here to see the sights.”
“A tourist, then.”
The pegasus turned away for a moment and took another book from the shelf. Rainbow Dash took the opportunity to grimace in agony and mime punching herself in the nose. When she looked up, the pegasus was walking away.
“Hey, wait a sec!” Dash said. “Wh-what’s your name?”
“Daring,” the pegasus said, glancing back at her. “Daring Do.”
Dash gasped. “I don’t believe this... it’s unbelievable! I’m such a huge fan!”
“You are?”
“Oh, yes! Your biggest fan ever!”
The pegasus arched an eyebrow. “Yet you didn’t know I was a professor?”
“Yeeee... eah.” Dash bit her lip. “Could we hang out? Maybe? Sometime?”
Daring nodded to the exit. “I’m going to leave now. Please don’t follow me.”
“Right... right. It’s cool.” Dash said. “We’re cool.”
She watched as Daring Do walked away.
“Dash? It’s been an hour... Are you in there?”
Twilight opened the door to the café restroom and heard loud sobbing. It was raspy and raw, like a violent coughing fit.
Twilight went inside and ran to the only locked stall. “Dash! What happened?”
“She thinks I’m a loser! A total loser! The worst loser in the history of losing!” There was a series of sharp, brutal bangs as Dash slammed her head against the door. “I called her an egghead... an egghead! Her!”
“An egg...? Dash, what happened? Did you get into an argument with somepony?”
“The one time in my entire life that I have to keep my cool... the one time it matters the most... and I choke! I choked big time, and now she won’t even talk to me!”
“I’m sure it can’t be that bad,” Twilight said. “University ponies can be a teensy bit sensitive about their intellectual status. Whatever happened, I’m sure we can sort it out.”
The door swept open, and Dash thrust her head out. There were dark rings under her eyes, and her face was clenched. “Don’t you get it? I blew it! I didn’t even know she was real, and I blew my one chance to meet my greatest hero!”
Twilight stared at her friend in shock. “The Wonderbolts were here!?”
Twilight Sparkle sat at one of the cafe tables, searching through the pages of an enormous registry book. “But it’s a fictional series. She can’t be real.”
“I was talking to her! She was right there! She was just like the book said she was, except she was wearing a dress!” Rainbow Dash bonked her face against the table, now more frustrated than distraught. “I giggled... I giggled and snorted!”
Twilight looked up from the registry book for a moment. “I don’t doubt that you spoke to a real pegasus. She may have looked like Daring Do, and she may have been named Daring Do... but that doesn’t mean she’s the same person.”
“You shoulda seen her eyes... she was sharp as a tack! You could see it! I was peeking at her, and she looked like she was ready to flip out and kick me in the face.” Dash leaned back with an exasperated sigh. “I bet she gets spied on all the time. She probably can’t go to the grocery store without fighting off a horde of crazed cultists!”
“Real archaeology isn’t like that at all!” Twilight said, “she’s probably just a regular professor.”
“You should have seen her! She was exactly like—”
“No, Dash!” Twilight said, “if you want to make a good impression on her, you need to set aside everything you’ve read. You need to approach her like she’s just a regular pony.”
“But the author! You said he could have used this university as a setting for the book, right? What if there was a real Daring Do, too? What if he based the character off of a real pony?”
“If he did, then she still isn’t the same Daring Do you’ve read about. She’s her own person, and you don’t know anything about her. You can’t just push yourself into her life.” Twilight continued searching through the registry book. “In any case, I don’t think she was being honest with you. I’ve looked through every department, and there’s absolutely no mention of a Daring Do.”
“But I saw her! She was right there!”
“Maybe she wasn’t being truthful. Maybe she was dressed up like the character.”
“But why would anypony do that?”
“How should I know?” Twilight paused as a waiter came to their table with a wheeled tea cart loaded with drinks and pastries. “Regardless, I think you need to calm down a little. You’re blowing this way out of proportion.”
“This is the worst!” Dash said, leaning back in her chair. “I finally get to meet the real Daring Do and not only do I act like a total idiot, but my best friend doesn’t even believe me.”
The waiter paused and looked back at them. “Pardon, but... who?”
“Do. Daring Do.” Dash sat forward. “Only the greatest archaeological explorer in the history of ancient history! Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of her?”
“I have, actually. She has an office in the central archives.”
Dash shot upright in her seat. “Are you kidding me!?”
“No. No, I’m not,” he said, and pointed at another table. “She orders a coffee and a cinnamon bagel every morning.”
Twilight leaned forward, alert. “When you say ‘Daring Do,’ who do you mean?”
“She’s an archaeology professor. She did a lot of fieldwork when she was just a filly. She spent eight years as a student and another five as an professor. These days, she’s more of an archaeologist than a teacher... I heard she couldn’t stand grading papers for days on end.”
“She’s a professor?” Twilight said, agape. “Then why isn’t she listed in the registry?”
The waiter pointed at the index Twilight had been searching through. “She is. You were spelling it wrong.
Twilight set a hoof on her hip and pursed her lips. “A spelling mistake? Me?”
“No, you were spelling it right... but there’s a variant spelling. It’s under D.E.R. And there’s a hyphen.” He flipped to the next page and pointed at an entry. “There you go. It’s a very common mistake, and no end of trouble for the colts in the mailroom.”
Twilight stared at the entry, complete with a black-and-white photograph of the mare in question. “Professor Derring-Do. Archaeology and prehistory.”
Dash looked at the picture, then pointed at Twilight’s face. “Ha!”
“This entry is from a year ago...” Twilight said and skimmed the page. “She has two master’s degrees. She’s been on sixteen expeditions into uncharted territory and helped excavate over thirty ancient ruins. She’s published eight reference books and wrote over a hundred articles for scientific journals.”
“What’d I tell ya? Isn’t she amazing?” Dash looked at the waiter. “She has an office, right? Where is it?”
“It’s just down the hall. The registry book should give directions.”
Twilight shook her head. “This is unreal. Why didn’t I know about this? Why doesn’t anypony know about this?”
Dash looked at the waiter. “Yeah! Shouldn’t she be totally famous?”
“A little, I suppose. But only in certain circles. Archaeological research gets very little media coverage. Too dry and boring for the public eye.”
“But her books!” said Dash. “Don’t you know about them?”
“But of course,” he said. “We have a complete collection of everything she’s published.”
“Not those. I mean the books about her!”
“She doesn’t have a biography. Not that I know of.”
Dash rolled her eyes. “The story books. There’s over a dozen of ’em!”
The waiter shrugged. “I don’t read fiction.”
The walk to the office was short and uneventful. Twilight spent most of it with her nose in a binder. They came to the third door on the left and stared at the window’s bold, block lettering. Derring-Do. Assistant Professor. Archaeology and Prehistory.
“Assistant Professor?” Twilight said. “Well, I guess that would explain it.”
Dash frowned at her. “Explain what?”
“You don’t just become a full professor overnight. They make you work for six years and then evaluate your abilities. She probably does all the same work as a full professor.” Twilight glanced back at her binder. “If she’d been granted tenure, I’m certain I would have heard about her.”
“Psssh!” Dash said, rolling her eyes. “Derring-Do doesn’t care about being famous or popular. She’s in it for the discovery.”
“Maybe, but have you seen her academic record?” Twilight tapped a page. “She’s been on sixteen expeditions, but she only led one of them herself. She’s written a lot of articles, but the reference books she published weren’t heavily cited.”
“Who even cares about all that!? She’d do her job even if she knew she’d never publish anything!”
Twilight frowned at her. “Dash, seriously... I’m sure she’s accomplished a great deal in her life, but she’s starting to look like just a regular pony. She’s certainly not a superhero.”
“So what if she isn’t?” Dash said. “She’s still my regular hero!”
Twilight’s face softened. She closed her binder and put it away.
“Are you sure you still want to do this alone?”
“I’m...” Dash choked, and scrunched her eyes. “I’m fine. Really.”
“All right,” Twilight said, and gave her a gentle pat on the back. “Just remember. She’s a regular pony and a real person. Don’t act like you know her.”
“I know... I know.” Dash shook herself and calmed her voice. “I just need to play it cool and be honest. I need to speak for myself, and I can’t do that if I have somepony covering for me.”
“All right, then. I have to get back to my own duties. I probably won’t be finished until later tonight, so I’ll see you back at the guest quarters.”
Dash nodded to her, but gasped as she looked further down the hall. Derring-Do was walking towards them, looking through her journal.
“Oh, cheeze-it!” Dash pushed Twilight away, frantically. “She’s coming this way! Go-go-go!”
Twilight left, walking past the young professor without event. Dash took a deep breath and flexed her shoulders. Derring-Do walked to the door of her office, nose firmly in her journal.
“Hey, Professor.”
Derring-Do flinched and looked up from her journal. “You again?”
“Yeah. Look, I’m sorry about before... I didn’t mean to geek out on you that bad.”
“Rainbow... Splash, was it?”
“Dash. Rainbow Dash. I know you probably have a lot of really important work to do, but I just had to say hello.”
Derring looked her over with a dubious eye. “Why?”
“I’m just such a big fan of your work. Archaeology, I mean... I’ve never met a real-life archaeologist before. I guess I got a little over-excited.”
“I see,” Derring said. “So you're an amateur, then?”
“Amateur!?” Dash’s feathers ruffled. “I’ll have you know I’m a professional!”
“...A professional archaeologist?”
“Oh. Well... no. Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Forget about it,” Derring said and unlocked her office door. “Amateur researchers do all the real work anyways.”
Dash peeked inside the tiny, hardwood-paneled room. Most of the space was taken up by a large desk covered with neat little stacks of scrolls and a single wicker basket of dark cherries. Short shelves along one wall held over a hundred small red journals, identical to the one she’d just been reading. There was a large bay window opposite the door, framed on each side by a pair of tall bookshelves packed with newspapers. The rest of the walls were covered with picture frames that contained newspaper clippings.
Dash watched as Derring-Do threw the curtains aside and opened the window, allowing the scent of cherry blossoms to waft in. “Amateurs? You really mean that?”
“No competition for grant money, no useless paperwork, no review board breathing down your neck... university researchers have their legs tied before they even leave the gate. But an amateur...” Derring gazed at one of the black-and-white photographs on her wall. “The word is Fancy for ‘a lover of.’ In turn, taken from the Latin ‘amator.’ ”
“Whoa! You can speak Fancy?”
“...Aucun possible n'est beau; le réel seul est beau. I was born in Paris, Prance. I didn’t grow up there, but I visit as often as I can afford.” Derring quirked one eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re my biggest fan?”
Dash stared at her. “Wow... I never knew.”
“Well, now you do.” She turned away from the photograph and began rummaging through a filing cabinet.
Dash peered in, but didn’t enter. “So... what are you working on?”
Derring glared at her. “Why?”
“I just wanted to know. Curious.”
The glare faded. “At the moment? I’m studying a series of Gryphonic ruins from recent history. They’re not even a hundred years old. Very interesting.”
“Recent?” Dash said. “Wouldn’t you rather study ancient history?”
“Not at all,” Derring said. “Most ponies think recent civilizations are easier to study because they leave behind a larger body of written records. All you need to do is translate it and you’re good to go.”
Dash nodded. “Right.”
“Wrong,” Derring said and pointed a hoof at her. “Cultures censor themselves all the time. They don’t even realize they’re doing it, but they color the truth with their own opinions and beliefs. Written accounts are almost always biased and incomplete.”
“Whoa... really?”
“The gryphons were particularly bad about it. Their written records almost never match up with the real evidence they left behind. We’re only now learning about what their civilization was truly like. It’s turning the entire field upside down. Very exciting.”
“That’s amazing! Do you do this sort of thing often? Major discoveries, I mean?”
“Once in awhile, yeah. But it hardly ever comes up.”
Dash stepped into teh office and glanced around. “Have you ever been to a dig site?”
“Plenty. I practically grew up in a desert.”
“What was it like?”
“Hot. Hungry. Tired. Fascinating.” Derring lifted up a sheet of paper. “The usual.”
“Have you ever explored, like... ancient ruins and stuff?”
“...And stuff?” Derring gave her a dull look.
“I mean exciting stuff. You know... adventures.”
“Look, Splash—”
“Dash.”
“Dash. If something exciting happens, it’s because something went wrong. I like it when my job goes exactly as planned: nice and boring.”
“But it doesn’t always, does it? I bet you have some amazing stories!”
Derring sighed, exasperated. “There was the time a two-tonne block fell on my wing, trapping me alone for two days without food or water. That was neat.”
“Hey, I remember reading about that!” Dash said. “How’d you really get out of it?”
“I didn’t!” Derring shouted. “A rescue team found me and had to cut me loose. I spent the next eight months in a hospital.”
“Eight months!?” Dash said. “It took you that long to get better?”
“I didn’t get better.” Derring lifted her wing up. It was physically intact, but the feathers were limp and lifeless. There was no flex to it. “They didn’t cut through the rock.”
Dash slapped a hoof over her mouth. “Oh-mi-gosh, I didn’t know! I’m so sorry!”
“Sure you are,” said Derring. “You and everypony else I meet. I don’t need your pity, and I don’t want to talk about it. I’m not a bloody cripple.”
“But—”
Derring-Do advanced on her with a stern glower. “I’m sick to death of hearing about this! My first and only lead role on an expedition, and it ends in total disaster! Well I’ll have you know I’ve done plenty of good work since, and I’ve never once let it hold me back! I don’t need your pity!”
Dash struggled to walk backwards and bumped against the doorframe. “I never meant to! I just—”
Derring fixed her with a steely gaze. “You just. What.” Her voice was a raw hiss.
Dash worked her jaw for a moment. “Sorry. I’ll leave you alone.” She turned to the door.
Derring watched her go. Her posture settled, and the fire faded from her eyes. “Hey. Were you serious about your love of archaeology?”
“Well... kinda... yeah,” Dash said, turning back. “I mean, I don’t really know anything about it. At all. I guess I must sound pretty stupid.”
“You can learn the facts in a school or in the field,” Derring said, “but nopony can teach you to love it. And if you do, nothing can hold you back.”
“Really?” Dash said. “You’re not just saying that, are you?”
“It didn’t hold me back.” Derring raised her crippled wing a few inches. “If you are serious about this, I could give you a few pointers to get you started. You game?”
“So game!” Dash tried to keep her grin reasonable.
“All right then.” Derring closed the filing cabinet. “I have to give a presentation in an hour, but we can have lunch together. Do you know where the Perfect Pepper is?”
Dash bit her lip. “No idea.”
“You can’t miss it,” Derring said. “It’s the only pizza parlor on Twenty-third Street. Be there at eleven-thirty. My treat.”
“Cool... cool.” Dash nodded. “Do you think... maybe... you could autograph a book for me?”
Derring gave her a tentative smile. “I think I can manage that.”
Derring took her book bags and left the office. Dash stood in the hallway and waited until she was alone. Only then did she rear up and pull the lever of an invisible train whistle.
Dash sat at a patio table, tapping her hoof. She glanced around at the restaurant's other patrons, all dressed in expensive finery. She tried to ignore her own utter lack of wardrobe... and the incredible prices on the menu.
“Hey,” Derring said, and sat across from her. She was wearing hiking boots and an olive vest covered with pockets. “Sorry I was late. The presentation ran a little long.”
“No prob!” Dash said, keeping her voice down. “I just thought, y’know... you might be too cool to be on time.”
“Are you kidding? This is my favorite part of the job.” Derring nodded to an approaching waiter. “Two plates of garlic bread, with coffee for starters.”
“You guys have any soda?”
The waiter shook his head.
“Just an iced tea, then.”
The waiter nodded and left them alone.
Dash looked back to Derring. “Your favorite part? What part is that?”
“Recruiting,” Derring said with a smile. “I spend most of my free time meeting with amateurs and writing letters. Most university folk can’t find their flanks with both wings tied behind them. We need ponies who can actually go outside.”
“Wait a sec. You mean me? You really think I could be a real archaeologist?”
“Why not?” Derring said and rummaged in her book bag. “Isn’t that what you wanted to talk about?”
“Yeah. I mean... no. I mean...” Dash shook her head. “That’s not what I thought. But it’d still be great!”
Derring took out a book and set it on the table. “Well this should help you out. It’s a reference book, but it’s aimed at total beginners. It should give you a good head start.”
Dash turned the book around and looked at the cover. “Won’t I have to travel a lot?”
“Depends. Where do you live?”
Dash shrank back in her seat. “Sorta... Ponyville.”
“You live in the country?” Derring’s eyes widened. “Isn’t that near the Everfree forest? That place is a bloody goldmine!”
“It is...?”
“You can’t take ten steps without tripping over some sort of ancient ruin. We haven’t even scratched the surface of it—far too dangerous for most cultured folks.”
“It’s not that bad,” Dash said. “I’m in and out of there all the time.”
“You’re tougher than you look, then.” Derring gave her a sideways smirk. “Do you mind if I add you to my correspondence list? Something tells me you’ll be a very interesting pen-pal a few months from now.”
“You can totally do that!” Dash leaned an elbow on the table. “Wow... I swear, you’re just as cool as you were in the books!”
Derring looked away, with a slight blush. “I don’t like to make a big deal out of it. But thank you.”
“Did you actually write them yourself?”
“Oh, yes. I hire an editor, of course, but I do all the research myself. I try to make them easy to digest, but they’re still too technical for most readers.”
“Too technical...?” Dash looked down at the beginner’s guide on the table. The author listed on the cover was ‘Derring-Do.’ “What about the other books?”
“Which ones do you mean?”
Dash smiled brightly, and took out her hardcover copy of Daring Do and the Quest for the Sapphire Stone.
Derring stared at the novel in silence.
“I’ve got the whole series, and I’ve already read it a million times!” Dash rummaged in her own book bag. “I’ve got all the others with me, too. It was a really long train ride.”
Derring slumped back in her chair. “I’ll bet.”
“Hey, do you think you could autograph the whole series for me? I know it’s kind of a lot to ask, but it would mean so much to me!”
“Would you put those away, already? I never wrote any of them.”
“But you said...”
“I don’t write fiction. I write reference guides for the scientific community. I publish reports on my excavations. That’s all.”
“Really? But you’re just like in the book.”
Derring leaned forward. “I am nothing like in the books! None of it’s real, and none of it’s me!”
Dash recoiled, leaning back in her seat
Derring sat back down. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”
“It’s cool,” Dash said. “But if you didn’t write them, then who did?”
Derring rolled her eyes. “Can we please talk about something else now?”
“But it can’t be a coincidence. Nopony knows who the author really is... he uses a pen-name and everything. If somepony stole your life, wouldn’t you want to know who did it?”
“I know exactly who it is, all right? It’s not a legal problem. I just don’t want anything to do with it.”
“You know?” Dash leaned close and whispered. “Who is he?”
Derring spoke through clenched teeth. “My attorney has advised me not to respond to such questions.”
“Whoa. Are you that scared?”
“I’m not scared, you featherbrain! She’s my sister, and she—”
Dash gasped. “The author’s a mare! I knew it!”
“Would you shut your mouth!?” Derring said, waving for her to sit. “She wrote those stupid books when my wing was crippled. She wanted me to have something to read in the hospital, and she asked if she could write a story about me. I said ‘sure, whatever,’ and she went ahead with it. If I’d known how famous those wretched books would become, I never would have agreed to it!”
“What do you mean? Those books are awesome!”
“They’re a complete farce! Every single page is riddled with errors, and the main character is a ludicrous, pulp-action heroine! A flat, dull, generic idiot who exists only to spout broken jargon and tired clichés!”
“That’s not true!” Dash said. “Those books are a great read! They’re why I got interested in archaeology in the first place! You said before that you needed more newbies... well isn’t this a good way to get ponies interested?”
“You think I’m happy somepony constructed a ludicrous fantasy life for me!? I like my life just the way it is! I’ve been doing this for twenty years, and this story makes an utter mockery of my accomplishments!”
“Oh-kay, then.” Dash’s eyes darted about the room. Every set of eyes in the room was focused on their table. “Maybe we should—”
Derring continued, heedless. “And here I thought you were actually interested in the genuine article! Real discoveries and real adventures! Instead, you just sit around daydreaming like a retarded ass!”
“Retar...!?” Dash struggled to speak in spite of the sickening tremble in her stomach. “You... you can’t just call somepony that! Do you even know who I am!?”
“You are a retarded ass!” Derring shouted as she shot up from her seat. “And by that, I mean you are a mentally deficient imbecile! You claim to be my biggest fan and yet you haven’t read a single one of my books! You can’t even pronounce my bloody name properly! I still hold some doubt as to whether or not you can read! I have neither the time nor the patience to waste on your frivolous antics, and you ought to be embarrassed and ashamed of yourself!”
Derring snatched her book bag and stormed away from the table, knocking her chair onto its back.
Did that... did that just happen?
“Pardon, miss.”
Dash’s neck trembled as she looked at the waiter. He held a pair of plates, each loaded with a six-inch cheese-and-garlic bread. “Will miss be paying for both of these entrées?”
“I don’t... have any... money.”
The waiter glanced at the main door through which Derring had stormed out. “Not that I wish to pry, but who was that?”
“My... hero.”
The waiter set the plates on the table. “I think this will be on the house.”
Twilight opened the door to their guest suite and dragged a heap of papers inside. “Hey, Dash! Sorry I took so long. They asked me to—” Twilight stopped and looked about the empty room.
“Dash? You here?”
No response. Twilight set the heap of papers on a table and looked around. Dash’s book bag was still on the couch. She walked to the bedroom and saw Dash lying on the upper bunk.
“I heard you had lunch with somepony. How’d it go?” Twilight approached the bunk and saw an unfamiliar book on the end table: The Beginner’s Guide to Amateur Archaeology. She flipped it open. On the inside of the cover, written in pen, was Derring-Do’s flowing signature.
“Wow... ‘To my biggest fan, Rainbow Dash: I can’t wait to read about you in the history books.’ Looks like your second impression went better than the first!”
Twilight looked at Dash. She was facing the wall, with her tail hanging off the mattress. “Dash? Is something wrong?”
“Just leave me alone.”
Twilight watched her tail flick back and forth for a moment.
“Do you want to talk about anything? Anything at all?”
Dash sighed. “How could anypony be so mean? Her sister worked really hard to lift her spirits, and she doesn’t even...” Dash trailed off.
“What do you mean?”
Dash pulled the blanket over her head. “Never mind.”
Twilight glanced around, then ran back to the main room. She came back with a colorful cardboard box. “I know what’ll cheer you up. I got you a present! It’s the Daring Do board game! It just came out last month, and it involves strategy and storytelling: the players build a map out of tiles as they explore and draw cards to see what kind of adventures take place. It’s like a different game every time!”
“I don’t wanna play a game,” Dash said, flicking her tail. “Just leave me alone.”
Twilight watched her tail for a moment. She left the room and closed the door, gazing at the unopened box.
Dash followed Twilight off the train and onto the deck of Ponyville’s modest station. There were hardly any passengers: most of the cars were hauling cargo and mail. Twilight walked over to the loading area and searched for her luggage. Dash glanced around, utterly bored. She’d been silent throughout the entire ride.
“I still have that board game,” Twilight said. “We could go back to the library and try it out.”
“Nah. I should get back to the weather. There’s probably a huge backlog by now.”
“We can play it later if you like. Whenever you’re ready.”
“Daring’s stupid,” said Dash and marched away.
Twilight rushed to catch up with her. “You can’t mean that! You love that series!”
“The series, yeah. But none of it’s real.”
“There’s nothing wrong with fiction. It’s okay to enjoy yourself!”
“It’s not just fiction, okay? It’s a lie!” said Dash. “Forget it... forget I said anything.”
Twilight walked ahead of Dash and locked eyes with her. “A pony’s mind is like a book. It only works when it’s open.”
“What am I supposed to do about that? How do you open somepony’s mind?”
“I meant you, Dash,” Twilight said, and brushed a lock of her hair aside. “Keep your own mind open. Don’t let one bad experience shut you out.”
Dash simply stared at the ground.
“I’ll be at the library if you need anything. Or if you just want to talk.”
Dash trudged away. After a few long moments, she looked back at her friend.
“Hey, Twi! Wait up a sec!” She turned back and ran after her, but slammed into another pony. They both fell in a tangle and a stack of packages spilled to the ground.
“Sorry! Oh, I’m so sorry!”
“Wouldja watch where you’re... Derpy?” Dash stood up and saw a familiar wall-eyed pegasus hurriedly gathering up the packages. “Big surprise, ya spazz. What’re you doing here?”
“The mail car arrives every Friday.” She nodded to the train. “I’m really sorry about all this! Please excuse me!”
“Forget it. Next time, just watch where you’re...” Dash looked around and realized she’d already left. She looked down and saw a single package on the ground. “Hey! You missed one!”
“Missed what?” Twilight said and walked over. “I heard my name. Were you calling for me?”
“I did, but... never mind.” Dash lifted up the torn package and saw a stack of clean white paper. The corner of the stack was ripped and muddy. She looked at the name and address on the label.
‘Ditzy Doo.’ That’s her real name, isn’t it? Everyone just calls her Derpy.
“Wow... a whole stack of eight-and-a-half by eleven!” Twilight poked at the torn corner. “I didn’t know anyone in Ponyville actually owned a typewriter. They’re really expensive.”
“Yeah,” Dash said as she scanned the crowd.
“Do you know who it belongs to?”
Dash held it close, covering the name and address. “Dunno. It doesn’t say.”
“That’s too bad, I guess. You want me to ask around?”
“It’s no problem. I’ll take care of it myself. It shouldn’t take long.” Dash glanced around. “Hey, Twilight? Do you know anything about pen-names? Do you know why ponies use them?”
“There’s a few reasons. It’s usually a legal issue. Sometimes the author just likes their privacy, or they want to avoid embarrassment.”
“Or they don’t want to embarrass their family.” Dash looked at the damaged package. “I guess those are all pretty good reasons.”
“Usually,” Twilight said. “So why did you call me over?”
“That board game sounds like it might be fun after all. Wanna hang out?”
Twilight grinned. “Definitely! See you at the library?”
“I’ll be right over. I gotta take care of something first.”
Rainbow Dash stood in the middle of Ponyville’s main road, directly in front of the post office. It was a small, narrow building, pressed between two other storefronts. She stared up at the second-story apartment’s only window.
She glanced back at her book bag and peeked in at the ruined package.
What if it’s really her? It wouldn’t hurt to ask, would it?
Dash stared at the front door for a full minute. Eventually, Derpy Hooves—Ditzy Doo. She has a real name. Use it—walked out of the office. She must have been off work: she wasn’t wearing her delivery bags or her hat. Dash watched her glide down the road humming to herself. A pair of fillies giggled after she passed, making funny faces at each other.
Dash chucked the damaged package into a nearby wastebasket and caught up with her. “Hey, Ditzy!”
“Oh, hay Rainbow Dash! I’m really sorry about before.”
She sounded cheerful. She was always cheerful. She was always sorry. Dash had simply grown accustomed to it... like a word spoken so often it loses all meaning.
“It wasn’t your fault, Ditzy. I was the one that bumped into you. And even if it was your fault, I shouldn't have called you a spaz... I’m really sorry about that.”
Ditzy looked at her, confused. “Oh... kay?”
“Hey,” Dash said. “Do you wanna hang out sometime? Just for fun? I got a new board game as a present.”
“Hang out? With you?” Ditzy’s eyes widened. “But you don’t even know me that well!”
Dash rolled her eyes. “In all the time I’ve lived here, we haven’t talked for more than ten minutes... and you’re still nicer than some ponies I know.”
Ditzy Doo’s face brightened up with a smile.
Author's Note
This story was the subject of a review and discussion by a group of panelists including ObabScribbler, Reverb Brony, BrainedBySaucepans, and WebShoter, with Goombasa acting as moderator. You can listen to this discussion on Scribbler's Youtube channel.
After listening to Reverb Brony's excellent comments, I decided to make a very small but important edit to the story. My response to the discussion, and my reasoning for the change, are explained on my blog. Just to clarify, his comment was completely accurate when he made it.
