Be Human: the All-American Girl Sidestories

Chapters

Sing Swan Song
Broken Heartstrings, Part One
Broken Heartstrings, Part Two
Broken Heartstrings, Finale
The Busker
Mythomania
Hazy Jane II
Chemistry, Finale
Welcome Home, Part Two
Welcome Home, Finale
The Stallion and the Girl, Part One
The Stallion and the Girl, Part Two
The Stallion and the Girl, Part Three
The Stallion and the Girl, Part Four
The Stallion and the Girl, Part Five
The Stallion and the Girl, Finale
Memories
Redemption Song
The Ballad of Bob, Part One
The Ballad of Bob, Part Two
The Ballad of Bob, Finale
обман
Of Fathers and Daughters
化け物, 第1章
化け物, 第2章
化け物, 第3章
化け物, 第4章
化け物, 第5章
化け物, 終局
The Stepmother, Part One
The Stepmother, Finale
Naon
Love, Hope and Acceptance
COMBS: Could Our Mother Bemoan Sybaritism?
COMBS: Can Obsolete Marriages Be Salvaged?
COMBS: Cranky Ostracized Mage Blames Society
COMBS: Cause of Minty's Blues - Sandalwood
COMBS: Champagne's Old Memories Become Stifling
Interrupted Cadance, Part One
Interrupted Cadance, Part Two
Interrupted Cadance, Finale
HALLOWEEN SPECIAL: Six Minutes, Five Seconds
The Archmagus' Lament
Chemistry, Part One
Welcome Home, Part One
CHRISTMAS SPECIAL: Guess Who's Coming for Christmas?

Sing Swan Song

The room was dark, save for a single lamp. On the desk by the bed was a tray, the bowl of cream of mushroom soup cold and untouched. On the stereo in the room, the same song played that had been going for nearly a week now. In the bed, curled up into a near fetal ball was a young woman, hair covering her face and refusing to move from the spot on the bed, as if her very life depended on it, well deep into a depression. There was a deep symbiosis at work: the droning, rolling psychedelic song fed into the mood of the young woman, and in turn she let the song play, thus continuing the cycle. She was shattered beyond imagination, possibly beyond repair. It was only upon inspection that one would find the young woman was anything but human. She was an alien, something other to this world, the only one of her kind.

But just a few days ago, she found she was no longer alone – and now she wished she could roll the clock back to the day before, when she thought she was, and just leave the clock there forever. She was what people facetiously labeled a pony, both because she was somehow distantly related to horses and from that show from decades ago, My Little Pony. But now she knew there were others of her kind – and every moment she thought of that truth, it filled her with pure, blood-freezing terror. She could feel the rough hooves of the creatures that looked like pegasi ripping off her clothing, trying to pull her away from the tree even as she started screaming for help, demanding that she stop. She saw her father, her best friend, her brother, and her boyfriend, all four slammed to dust by the others of her kind below. The shouts of her neighbors demanding they let go of her. And then that sickening, rocking motion, where all she could see was the love of her life as she was being….

She couldn’t finish the thought. So instead she shut down again, letting the song carry her into oblivion once more, as Daisy Jo Hikaru Martinez, freshman at Winchester Christian High wished that the end would come.

“DJ, don’t do this to yourself!” She opened her eyes and stared at the face of a friend, skin the color of tupelo honey, hair as black as sable, and eyes filled with so much worry. Erica McAllister, one of the two people who were her best friends in the world, the first two outside her family that had seen beyond the horse-like body and into the normal person below. “Everyone’s worried about you, and we can’t help you if you won’t let us. Don’t shut us out.”

“Erica, he doesn’t love me anymore,” she said in a soft, wilted tone. “I’m unclean now. He saw. I’m dirty.”

“Yeah, I won’t lie about that unclean part, girl – you haven’t taken a shower in days, and you only leave this room just to run to the bathroom across the hall. This place is going to need some serious airing out,” Erica replied. “But do you really think that would ever cross Mike’s mind? Honestly, I thought you loved him!”

DJ’s head lifted. “I do!” she gasped. “More than I can ever say!”

“Then why don’t you trust him enough to believe he won’t leave you? You didn’t do anything wrong, DJ, and it certainly wasn’t your fault. Let me repeat that again so you get that through your thick skull: it wasn’t your fault. Besides, Mike’s special – you said so yourself, no one has ever looked at you the way he does.”

“Things can change,” she said, sadly. “Plants die. Pet dogs die. Love dies.”

“True love doesn’t, and I think you two have that. Certainly more than I did with Paul, that creep,” she said bitterly before realizing it wasn’t helping. Finally, she settled on the music to change the topic. “Look, can we at least change the music? Listening to the same song over and over for five straight days can’t be healthy. Fuck, I don’t even know what this is – and what the hell does ‘drunky hot bowls’ mean?”

“‘Sing Swan Song’ by Can, from their album Ege Bamyasi. They were a Krautrock band from the 70s. That particular song was recorded in 1972 – and before you ask, no, after fifty years no one knows what the hell Damo Suzuki is singing.”

“Krautrock? 70s? Girl, you are so weird.” She turned on the computer screen, then hit stop on the song before flitting through the songs on the computer. “The Cure, Flying Lotus, Alan Parsons Project, Yes, Cocteau Twins, REM, David Bowie – is there anything in your music collection that isn’t older than you?”

“Well, there’s the Cibo Matto reunion album. That came out the year after I was born.”

“Not what I meant, but glad to see your sense of humor is still intact,” she said before commenting, “Is there anything modern, like Hey Ocean?”

“No thanks. Ashleigh Ball can’t sing her way out of a paper bag so I stay away from Hey Ocean like the plague. Heck, Lady Gaga can sing better and I don’t care for her, either.”

“Someday, I’m going to force feed you music that doesn’t require an AARP subscription to listen to,” Erica muttered before finally choosing an album by some group called Quiet Village, hoping it sounded a lot less depressing than this Can shit. “Well, here’s the plan: I’m going to take this food out, go take a shower, and then you’re going to take a shower while I carpet bomb this room with Lysol and then afterwards you’re going to go kiss Mike, tell him you love him and then we’re all going to go visit Carlos. In case you weren’t aware, he’s fucked up more than you right now.”

“I know. It’s my fault.”

Erica threw her hands up in frustration. “DJ, none of this was your fault, dammit! It’s not like you woke up that morning and said ‘I’m going to meet people today from wherever I come from and then they’ll maim my family, attempt to rape me and take me back to wherever if not worse.’” She sat down on the bed again and embraced her friend. “I know you. Despite how you look, despite your tail and fur, you’re human. Dad and your parents fought Uncle Sam for five years to prove it, and no amount of pegasuses or whatever—”

“That’s pegasi.”

“See? You were paying attention,” Erica said triumphantly. “In any case, no one’s going to take away who you are or those who love you. So, at worst case you finally found out you’re not the only one of your kind and that all the others are evil bastards. No biggie, we’ve got your back. Plus, you’ll find out what your species is, and no one will call you a ‘pony’ anymore, like you’re some sort of toy.” A thought suddenly crossed Erica’s mind. “What if they call themselves ponies as well? Wouldn’t that be just fucked?” There was no answer to that, DJ apparently deciding to stew in her own mind again.

Sighing, Erica went and grabbed the tray and left the room. She needed a shower and a way to break her best friend out of the funk she was in. Ironically, this wasn’t much different than what DJ went through when Erica herself was in the hospital late last year and Carlos was taking his parents’ deportation out on DJ. Stepping out of the room, she went to the dining room, where six adults, one teen and one pre-teen sat. “Well…I managed to get her to agree to change the song,” Erica offered as an encouraging sign.

The people at the table looked at her with wan smiles. “Thank you, Erica,” Tyson McAllister said, looking at his daughter. Both he and his wife were here to check up on his friends; so far, things did not look encouraging. Neither of DJ’s parents looked as if they slept anytime recently, and Mike’s parents, also present, were less than happy as well. Mike himself couldn’t tear his eyes off the door, and as for DJ’s younger brother Sam, he was bored as all ten-year-olds tended to be but understood this was too important to break out the Xbox Mobile.

A few more minutes went by before someone said something. “This is just stone cold shit, Matt,” Carl Hengst said. “I was against Mike and DJ dating at the beginning, but now…hell, I regret anything I ever said then. I think he’s the only thing keeping her sane right now.”

“Thanks, Carl,” Matt said, adjusting his eyeglasses.

“Well, now that everyone’s here, I can talk to you all. I’ve already told Beverly,” he said, gesturing to his wife, “and she agrees this is incorrigible.”

“Why am I getting a bad feeling about this?” Anna asked, reaching down to grab her husband’s hand. Their world had been turned upside down in the past few days, and their daughter had been seriously wounded in and out. The two had never cared what their daughter looked like or that she wasn’t human, only that she was theirs – and that now she was hurting.

“Mac, just put it on the table,” Matt said. “We already know it’s probably going to be a world of crap.”

“That’s a good way to put it,” McAllister said. “I found out the day after the attack that the administration has known and been negotiating with DJ’s people for several weeks now. They come from a parallel Earth in a kingdom called Equestria, and they call their species ‘ponies’ – pony is the singular, I’m guessing.”

“Seriously? Oh man, DJ’s not going to like that. She hates being called a pony,” Erica said. “We were just talking about it in there a couple of minutes ago, but I was joking when I said that they called themselves ponies.”

“My Chief of Staff attended a meeting between Secretary of State Patel and members of their delegation a couple of days ago. Their ambassador is a….” He paused, searching for the right word, was it woman or mare? “Female,” he decided, “named Twilight Sparkle. During the meeting, it was revealed that the ones that attacked you were members of their military, and that it was an unauthorized attack.”

“Why don’t I believe that?” Mike muttered.

“There’s more, and this is where it gets ugly. Twilight Sparkle is apparently a very powerful unicorn—”

“Unicorn? You’ve gotta be shitting me.” Matt asked, not sure if he believed this. Of course, his adopted daughter was apparently of equine heritage, so it wasn’t impossible, but even still, it sounded ludicrous – even for someone who wrote fantasy novels for a living.

“Hey, I didn’t believe her either, but Keisha’s never steered me wrong,” Mac answered. “Anyway, she’s supposedly strong enough to do a Greetings from the Death Star through the side of a mountain in just a blink of an eye, and that she’s not the strongest magic user they have.”

“Okay, so now it’s passive-aggressive threats. And Mendoza is negotiating with them? Remind me why she’s president again?”

“Because Romney couldn’t run for a third term, Rubio lost to Patterson, Patterson died in office and left his VP Mendoza as president,” Mac’s wife Beverly quipped sadly. “As to why she was elected to a second term, well, that beats me.”

“Folks, I hate to say this, but even if we had a Republican in the White House right now, we’d still be doing this – a first contact isn’t exactly something you can brush off,” Mac replied. “But I’m not done yet, and this is the part that’s going to hurt: apparently this Twilight Sparkle is DJ’s aunt – apparently DJ’s real name is Sandalwood – and that she’s been searching fifteen years for what they call ‘the Lost Foal.’ Moreover, the Equestriani are offering the administration the chance to reveal the existence of Equestria and the other nations on that parallel Earth, but in turn they want the return of the Lost Foal.” Mac grunted. “If they get their way, Millington can ride this all the way into the Oval Office on the next election.”

“Mac, I don’t care about that,” Anna snarled. “You’re telling me the government, after all that time we spent fighting for her, they want to take away my little girl?”

“I won’t let them, Anna. I’ll do everything I can to stop Mendoza. Fortunately, I have friends on both sides of the aisle, and I guarantee I can get John Miller and Ted Rodriguez to back me off the bat and they’re both Bluesiders from very liberal states.”

“That’s all well and good, but I get the feeling you’re not telling us everything.”

“Because I hadn’t gotten to the worst part of all: Ambassador Sparkle has requested via my office that she be allowed to meet with Sandalwood – that is, DJ – and Keisha already told her that it was dependent on you. Now, I’m sure you very much want to say no, and just want to send Sparkle to wherever she came from and you wouldn’t be the only one. But I recommend that you allow it. The ambassador might have a stake in this, but at the end of the day you’ve raised DJ for fifteen years and she is your daughter. She’ll probably tell the other ponies to go pack sand. Keisha already thought ahead and told them that it would be at least a couple of weeks until DJ feels comfortable enough to do so and they’re willing to go with that.”

Mike rose from his seat, frustrated. “I’ve got to talk to her.”

Erica looked at him. “There’s no guarantee she’ll let you in. She’s afraid you don’t love her anymore.”

“What? How…?” he said, stunned by that. “No. That’s not right. Never. I…I can’t even….”

“‘What is this I don’t even?’” Matt helpfully supplied.

“Er, exactly,” Mike said, wondering just where adults came up with their weird slang.

“Then go, rescue your damsel in distress – because if I hear that Krautrock crap one more time, I’m going to break her computer.”

“Krautrock?”

“118 hours and counting.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” With that, he went over to her bedroom and knocked. “DJ? It’s me. Can I come in?” Silence. “Dee, hon, please don’t shut me out.” More silence. Finally he said, “DJ, I’ve had my left arm broken in two places and it’s in a plaster cast instead of an air one. If you don’t answer I’m going to break down the door with it.” There was a muffled answer that sounded remotely like come in, and that was good enough for him.

As he walked in, the smell hit him. Kinda stable-ish, a definite horse smell. Well, humans start pumping out musk after a few days, so we’re no better, he reminded himself. And then he looked at the girl, huddled into a ball on the bed and wearing Hello Kitty pajamas. Her fur was matted, her hair disheveled. Her violet eyes were streaked with the red of someone who has been crying nonstop for hours. Her tail, of which he could only see a little, looked as if it had snarled into knots.

Seeing that, for the first time, made him truly realize what his girlfriend was. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he knew: after all, they never held hands; instead, he always pressed his against her hoof. She had no separate nose and mouth, but instead a snout. Her ears weren’t on the side as humans were, but instead the pinnae were at the top like any other animal. She had an exterior tail, which no human had unless a birth defect was involved. Her eyes were larger than his, and though the eye color could be found in humans, it was also freakishly rare. Her hair, though covering her head as much as a human’s would, was actually and technically a mane – though, anatomically, so was a human’s. And there was the fur – all that fur, whereas humans had so very little of it that they could technically be called hairless. The blinders came off, and now instead of seeing Daisy Jo Martinez, his girlfriend, he saw Daisy Jo Martinez, an alien not of this world.

And yet…

“Is something wrong?” Her voice was nervous, frightened. Her voice had been the same when he’d first met her, and he’d been partly (some would say mostly if not entirely) responsible for bring back the smile to her face and the light into her eyes. He never wanted to see her like this again, and yet here she was, once again not through any of her doing.

“I guess…I guess I’ve never seen you as who you really are before,” he said, sitting down on the bed next to her. “On some level I’ve always known, but there’s a difference between just knowing…and realizing.”

There was an awkward silence before DJ spoke. “You should have dated a human, Mike. You would have been happier.”

“Do you really think I would?” he asked.

“Isn’t that what you’re thinking?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m so glad you seem to know what I’m thinking, because I’m apparently clueless enough not to be able to think of it myself.”

“Isn’t that the job of a girlfriend, though? To think for you until further notice?” she teased, a smile coming to her face.

It was like water to a parched man. “It’s good seeing you smile. I’ve missed that smile.”

A spark lit in her heart, and it showed on her face. “You mean that?”

“Do you really have to ask that question?”

She turned away, unable to look at him. “Mike, I…I had a very bad realization the other day, one that frightens me. As much as I act like one, as much as I feel like one, I’ll never be human. Never. I’ll always have these ears, this snout, this tail. You’ll always have to walk slower to match my speed because I was never meant to be on my hind legs all the time. I’ll never have hands you can hold, feet to rub, a hairless cheek for you to caress,” she said, and it was clear each word was breaking her heart. “It means you were meant to be with one of your kind instead of me. It means that I should be with my own kind…even if they terrify me.”

More awkward silence ensued, and it seemed like a small eternity before he spoke again. “DJ, do you remember what I told you when I asked you to be my girlfriend?”

She nodded. “That you didn’t see me as the horse girl, the alien thing that looks like a pony. That you saw me as a wonderful girl, one that you wanted to be with and that had your heart.”

He looked at her plainly. “What makes you think that’s changed?” He looked down at the bedspread, if for a moment, to compose his thoughts. “Yes, I didn’t see what you really are that day. And I won’t lie: now I can, now I do. But you know what? I still also see that wonderful girl, the one I want to be with and still very much has my heart.”

That spark lit up again. “You mean it?”

“No, I was only about to break your door down because I wanted to come in and listen to Krautrock for over a hundred straight hours.”

“Oh, she told you then.”

“Yup. Personally, My Chemical Romance is so much better for sitting around in a depression, if you ask me.”

She laughed, and it was music to his ears. He asked, “So, do you still want to be with me?”

Her response was to scoot over and lean into him, snuggling against him for all she could. In turn, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. Then the two teenagers looked at each other, alien to human, and then they kissed. Gently at first, and then passionately, with the love of two souls cut apart mending once more by the power of adolescent hormones. As they reluctantly broke apart, mainly because breathing was a necessity for both of them, she looked at him with a loving smile. “Does that answer your question?”

He nodded silently. “DJ, you’ve been through a lot in the past few days. All of us have, and it’s been a nightmare. But I want you to know something: what happened to you was not your fault. It’s going to hurt for a while and things may never be the same again for you, but we’re all here for you, regardless of where you came from, we are your people, not them. Your parents, my parents, Erica’s parents – they’re all worried about you. Hell, Sam’s been freaking out, and he’s just a kid. Plus, there’s Carlos, too….”

“Is he going to be okay?”

“Doctors stabilized him, but he’s going to need some extensive surgery. Cracked skull, broken jaw and nose – if it wasn’t for luck, the thing that hit him would’ve killed him. Your uncle’s trying to get word to his parents down in Mexico, but it’s not easy and who knows if they’ll even be able to come back to see him.”

“My fault again.”

“No, no it’s not. You are not the same as they are, DJ; maybe if you’d grown up there you might have ended up that way, but you didn’t. As far as I can tell, they’re brutal. You’re beautiful and kind. Look at me: I’m a human just like Hitler or Charles Manson, but I’m definitely not like them.”

“He’s got a point, furball,” a voice said at the door. She looked up and saw her parents standing there. Matt smiled and looked at his daughter. “Did you know I’m distantly related to Pancho Villa? Brutal bastard, but it doesn’t make me that way. Our ancestry makes part of who we are, but not what we can be. You share the same blood as those that attacked you, but you’re not them,” he said, suddenly wincing.

She saw. “Dad, you okay?”

“Just the rib. It’ll take a bit to heal, doctor already warned me about that. But Mike’s right. You’re one of them, but you’re not the same as them. We’d never raise you that way and we obviously didn’t.”

“Oh, sweetie, we’ve got news for you. The doctor just emailed over the results of the test.” Anna didn’t have to tell her daughter what test it was; DJ had been obsessing over it the past few days. “Not only were there no signs of…anything, but no indicator of penetration. It might have felt like it, but thankfully, you weren’t raped. I know it still hurts and you were humiliated, but the skies are clearing for you.”

“No they won’t. I already heard – they want me back. Back to whatever hell they’re from.” When Mike and DJ’s parents stared at her in surprise, she wiggled her ears in response. “Remember, I’ve got…well, these.”

“We’re not letting you go, DJ,” her mother said, a fierce look in her eyes. DJ knew that look in those eyes very well, but usually she saw them when she was in trouble. “You’re my little girl, and no one gets between me and my family.”

DJ looked at Mike, and taking the hint, he let go. She walked over to her parents and hugged them fiercely. “I don’t want to leave! You’re my Mom and Dad! I love you both!”

Both parents embraced their daughter, and briefly smiled at each other. “You were a gift from God, DJ,” her father said. “You’re our little girl. You’ll always be our little girl.” The three stood there forever, a family.

Mike grinned and blinked his eyes; he must have suddenly got some dust in them. Going over to DJ’s computer, he turned off the music currently playing then found her favorite song. The soft, soothing ballad, a song from a Japanese television show from twenty years ago played over the speakers, the lyrics flowing into DJ’s ears:

“If I could just be more human,
I would see every little thing with a gleam in my eye
If only I was more human,
I'd embrace every single feeling that came in my life”

She turned around to face him and whispered I love you sotto voce as she continued to find shelter in her parents’ embrace.

But as all things end, so did the hug and Matt Martinez looked down into his daughter’s eyes. “DJ, sweetie?”

“Yeah, Dad?”

“Shower. Now.”

Not even bothering to ask, DJ headed for the bathroom. Seeing that, Erica reached into a bag her mother had brought with her, producing several bottles of Febreeze, Lysol and other cleaning gear. Seeing that, Mike chuckled. Things would hopefully be on the mend, and after DJ told that alien ambassador she wanted to stay, the problem would be over, wrapped up and solved simply.

Broken Heartstrings, Part One

The car pulled up in front of the house in Leesburg, Virginia. A flagpole in the yard flew the flag of the Principality of Equestria, and the as the car stopped in the driveway, the driver, a human, got out of the car and opened the back door. “Ambassdor, we’re here.”

Lyra blearily opened her eyes. “Huh…wha?” She looked – but they just left the embassy just a few seconds ago! She was going to do some paperwork on the way and…Oh, who am I kidding? She hadn’t been sleeping well in the past few weeks. She hadn’t been doing much of anything the past few weeks.

She grabbed her briefcase, fished keys out of her pocket and got out of the car. “Thanks for the ride, Terry. Got plans?”

He smiled. “Oh, absolutely. Wife took the kids to see her parents in Chicago, so it’s just me and the Nats. They’re playing the Cards this weekend, and I can’t wait to see St. Louis get stomped – they don’t deserve to win the World Series again this year.”

“Go Nats,” she said dully. “Hope Alonzo hits one out of the park.”

“So do I, so do I.” As Lyra made her way to the door and Terry went back to the car, he stopped. “Ambassador?”

She looked up. “Hrm?”

“I know it’s not my place to say this, but…cheer up. She’ll be back. I’m sure of it.”

Lyra gave her chauffeur a smile, the kind of smile that said she appreciated the little lie. “You have a good weekend, ‘kay?”

Not wanting to deal with the lies any longer, she went into the house, shut it, locked the doors and just fell apart.

The house still smelled of sugar and vanilla, of lavender and roses – of her. Lyra slumped to the floor, not sure whether she wanted to laugh or cry. Everything lost, everything gone. Her love, her life, her Bon-Bon…gone. Getting back to her feet, Lyra made her way to the kitchen, where the phone was. There was a message, and Lyra clicked it.

“YOU HAVE TWO MESSAGES. FIRST MESSAGE:”

“Bon-Bon? Hi, I’m Susan Chapelle, the wife of the New Zealand Ambassador. Just took over the presidency of the Wives’ Club, so I’m looking forward to meeting you. We’re having our monthly get-together at Wildfire in Tysons Corner next Thursday; so I’m sure you’ll have a great time. Please give me a call back at 240-555-5494 when you can. Talk to you later.”

“NEXT MESSAGE.”

“Hey, Lyra? Just arrived in Nashville, and it’s just like you described. Really going to enjoy living here, the people are great and very accepting of a pony – it helps that I’m a studio musician. As soon as I get my phone hooked up, I’ll pass you the number. I’m really, really proud of you, little sister. Give my regards to Bonnie, and I’ll catch ya later. Bye!”

“END OF MESSAGES.”

She put down the phone and restrained herself from throwing it against the wall. The house felt so cold now, so empty – no longer a home, but now merely just a house, another house in the Embassy Row district in small town 25 miles west of DC. Technically, she didn’t even own the place; it actually belonged to the embassy, for use by the ambassador and his (or her, in this case) family. She and several other diplomatic families lived together on the cul-de-sac at the end of Meadowside Way; her home was situated in between the Italian and Swiss ambassadors’ homes.

She trudged upstairs to remove her business suit and slip into something more suitable, like jeans and a t-shirt. It always drove Bon-Bon up the wall that Lyra dressed so casually when not on the clock; but then again, it really bothered Bon-Bon to be dressed outside of formalwear, period.

Bonnie…. Lyra just wanted to throw herself on the bed and collapse into a heap, but it still smelled of her. But that was the problem. Everything smelled of her. Pulling off her suit and just slipping into a pair of jeans and a DC United t-shirt, Lyra threw herself on the bed anyway, just falling into a slumber filled with deep dreams and sorrowful memories.

“Lyra, I can’t take this anymore!” Bon-Bon said, looking at her with wild eyes. “First it was agreeing to this post far away from our kind. Then you turned on Rarity – she’s been a friend of mine forever!”

“Sweetheart, leaving that filly with her human parents was the right thing to do.” Lyra couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Even you said they looked like they belonged together.”

“But you didn’t have to tell Rarity she was wrong! Couldn’t there have been a better way?” Before Lyra could continue, Bon-Bon continued her accusations. “But after that it was all these other things. You don’t walk like a pony anymore. You wear clothing all the time, like you’re ashamed to be one of us!”

“Bonnie, there are nudity taboos on this planet, just like holding your tail up all the time is one on ours.”

“STOP CALLING ME THAT!” she snapped. “Bonnie’s a human name, my name is Bon-Bon.”

“You’ve never let it bother you before. Why now?”

She continued her litany. “You’re always riding in a car, or that motorcycle you bought. Worse, you’re trying to make me learn how!”

“Hey, I like the motorcycle! It’s cool, and you’ve never complained about riding with me before!”

“I don’t have friends here! I have to hang out with humans!”

“But I thought you and whatshername…Sharon…were getting along great! And what’s wrong with hanging out with humans?” A thought crossed her mind. “Bonni…Bon-Bon, I’ve never known you to be speciesist.”

“I’m not! But…I miss just having pony things! I miss walks to the market, lunch at Sugarcube Corner, that stuff! But here I am, human supermarkets are cold and devoid of life, all the restaurants here feature meat, and I just can’t take it anymore. And then there’s you! It’s like…it’s like I don’t know you anymore.”

“Huh?”

“Lyra…you’ve changed since you were vindicated. You were always so determined to prove humans were nice, despite all the nasty comments and looks ponies gave you, despite losing your job at the Canterlot Orchestra and having to move to Ponyville just to be a music teacher at the school. But look at you now! You’re always so busy. You’re never home at a decent hour anymore and half the time you leave even before I wake up!”

“Bon-Bon, that’s because the Washington embassy is one of only two embassies our country has on this planet right now! You think AC’s having any easier of a time at the UN? Add to that the fact that we’re having to speak for the gryphons, the zebras and the rest because they haven’t even started up their diplomatic corps, and—”

Bon-Bon covered Lyra’s mouth with her own, but there was no warmth in that kiss…no love. “Lyra, I love you, I love you more than anything, but…I can’t take this anymore.”

And then she said the words Lyra never thought she’d hear. “I need…I need some space to myself to think things out. Some time alone to just try to comprehend.” She then looked up at Lyra, and there were tears in her eyes.

“I’m leaving.”

At first, Lyra thought she was just overreacting, but then when she got home from work the next day…and no one was there. Lyra raced upstairs to find all of Bon-Bon’s clothing gone, trinkets and personal items disappeared from the home. Lyra raced down to the kitchen, and that’s when she found the note on the table.

Ly,

Bon-Bon asked Twilight to bring her home. Since Twilight was busy, she opened a gate so me and Tavi could come get her. She’s currently staying with Tavi and her husband in Canterlot. I recommend you stay away right now and not make things worse.

Tavi and Ivory will try to straighten things out between you two. It’s probably just a misunderstanding. What you’re doing there is important, and you gave up your music career for that. As your oldest friends, Tavi and I are just amazed and proud that you found that courage. Bon-Bon will see that in time, I promise.

I’ve got a gig next month at the 9:30 Club in DC. If things don’t straighten out by then, I’ll stay the weekend and we can talk.

Your bud in bass,

- Vi

That had been three weeks ago. Since then, Octavia had sent a note to let her know that Bon-Bon had moved back into their old place in Ponyville…and that she was considering divorce.

Lyra,

I’m sorry. Ivory and I tried, we really did. But she’s scared and despondent. She’s thinking about filing for divorce. Ivory says he’s got a friend that’s a marriage counselor that he can get her to talk to hopefully, but that’s only if she will. Since she’s moving back to your old place, Vinyl says she’ll keep an eye out.

I don’t know what else we can do.

I’m so sorry.

- Octavia

Lyra needed to get out of the house, go somewhere. Looking at the clock by the bed, she noticed it was nearly ten in the evening; she’d apparently fallen asleep. She needed to get something to eat and most of the restaurants in the area were closed. Fortunately, there was one the German ambassador and his wife showed them that would still be open by the time she got there and was just perfect for the moment.

Twenty minutes later, she was at Döner Bistro. A place that Dieter and Caroline said reminded them of the “bad old days” in West Berlin in the 70s (Lyra would have to ask about what that meant someday), the restaurant was good food, good music (they played a lot of German pop music) and something that Lyra had grown to enjoy since her arrival on human Earth: good beer.

“Hey, Nathan, pour me another Köstrizer!” Lyra shouted to the bartender on the other side of the tiny, cozy restaurant, while she drained her stein. Setting it down she took another bite of her falafel sandwich while she was watching the mesmerizing game on the screen: soccer (or football, as they called in Europe, an entirely different game from the football they played here in North America.) Right now she was watching FC Augsburg tear apart Hanover 96. To say it was an evenly matched game would be an understatement.

An idea came to her head: what if she had the game introduced into Equestria? The rules were simple, it was played in much the same way as hoofball, and it’d be a great way to foster relations between Equestria and Germany. She’d have to talk to Dieter and see if he could get some German teams to do some exhibition games and teach a couple of camps.

The bartender set the beer by Lyra, then picked up the empty stein. “Hey, so where’s Bon-Bon? Haven’t seen her around lately.”

The good mood she was slipping into just got kicked away as quickly as the striker slapped that ball towards the goalpost. “Uh, she had to go back to Equestria for personal reasons,” Lyra lied, hoping Nathan couldn’t read her face. “She’ll be back soon.”

“Cool – those chocolates she made for me? A couple of friends had some and were wondering if she could whip up another batch. She could make a killing off that stuff, you know.”

“Yeah, it’s what she does for a living. Confectioner.”

“Wow, that’s seriously cool. Hey, I gotta get back to the tap. Let her know I said hi, okay?”

“Yeah,” Lyra muttered under her breath, “will do.”

She continued to nurse her beer and watch the game, when someone sat down on the seat next to her. “If Augsburg gets to the top of the Bundesliga, they’re gonna have a hard time against Bayern Munich.”

“Naaah, near as I can tell, no one can touch Oehrl. Well, maybe Russ over in Wolfsburg, but they’re already out of the counting.”

“Wow, you sure know a lot about German soccer for an alien.”

She looked at him sadly. “I dislike that term – it’s too dividing. You can call me a pony, which is what I am; or a unicorn, which is the kind of pony I am; but I’d much prefer it if you called me by name.”

The guy grinned. “And that is?”

“Lyra. Lyra Heartstrings.” She offered a hoof.

He shook it. “Paul Phillips.”

“So, what brings you to a tiny German dönerhaus in Leesburg, Paul?”

“I could say the same about you,” he laughed. “As for me, I just graduated with my law degree from George Mason today.”

“Congratulations!” She toasted him and their beer steins clinked. “Well, in my case, that’s easy: what does just about any foreigner do here in DC?”

“Kinda figured that.” Paul finished off his stein and then held it up to signal for a refill. He set it down and said, “Man, Hanover’s weak sauce today.”

“Eyup. Wouldn’t be surprised if they get bucked down to the 2nd Bundesliga after the season’s over.”

“Think Augsburg will get to the Champions?”

She grinned. “Yeah, they’ll get there – and then they’ll get destroyed by some serious competition, like Real Madrid or Milan, maybe Liverpool.”

He looked at her appreciatively. “You know entirely too much about European soccer for a…foreigner. Ever watch any local sports?”

“Yeah. The ‘Skins are okay, not really into the Caps, I’ll watch the Wizards and the Nats occasionally, but my real passion is United.” The pointed to her shirt. “Red-and-Black all the way!”

“You really are a soccer fan. Interesting, you don’t see many in this country. It’s growing, but it’s not as big as the Big Three.”

“Yeah. I’d like to see it established in my home country. I think it’s something the colts and fillies will like.” Lyra drained her stein and ordered another, as she and Paul continued to watch the game, downing beer after beer, eventually singing along with the crowd on television as the soccer games continued.

The next morning, Lyra awoke with a headache. She’d had way, way, way too much to drink, probably to drown out the pain she was feeling an—

Waitaminit…this isn’t my house. The room was smaller than her bedroom and…decidedly male in décor. She looked down, she was wearing nothing as usual; she was still a pony after all and ponies lived their lives without clothing, so sleeping sans attire was normal for her. But the sheets…. And the bed was smaller…. And….

Oh, sweet Celestia, what have I done?

A soft snore beside her confirmed her worst fears. There he was, sleeping soundly in his bed shirt off. She looked under the sheets….

Close Encounter of the Seventh Kind.

Lyra half-leapt out of the bed, slamming against the wall. She was shivering, shaking. Oh, Bonnie, what have I done what have I done? She looked at herself, then at the still human on the bed – in his home. She’d always liked humans, always found them charming…but not like this. Never like this! She had a mate – they were married, for Celestia’s sake! But Bon-Bon had left because she accused Lyra of destroying their marriage. And now Lyra had proved it.

“Lyra? What are you…oh, fuck!” Paul was awake now, the realization just hitting him. “Did I? Did you? Did we?” He looked under the sheets, and then akin to her with something of utter…she couldn’t tell whether it was fear or despair.

Wordlessly, she nodded.

“I mean, I was drunk last night and you were and….oh crap oh crap Lyra I’m sorry I….shit….” The look on his face was utterly apologetic. A sudden look of panic settled on his face and he blurted, “Did we use protection? Do we even need protection? I mean, I’m human, and you’re an alien…I mean, pony. Unicorn? Uh….crap. I give up.” He flopped back on the bed, but reached down over the side to grab his boxers, slipping them on underneath the sheets.

“I….” A pause. “I’m…I’m not going to get pregnant, if that’s what you’re worried about. We’re two different species, and it just doesn’t work that way. Humans have 46 chromosomes, and ponies have 62 chromosomes, so….”

“Oh, God, Lyra, I…I didn’t mean for this to happen! You were drunk and I was drunk, but I just figured I’d let you crash on the couch, and….” He shrugged his head. “Shit.” The two sat there in silence, not knowing what to say next.

Finally, he spoke. “Are…you hungry?”

“Famished,” she admitted.

“Lyra, look, I—”

“No, it’s my fault,” she said. “It takes two to dressage. You didn’t do anything to me that apparently my beer-soaked mind didn’t want. I’m just…I’m just surprised that I apparently wanted it, is all.”

“Why? Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m sure you’re a beautiful young…uh, woman? for your species.”

She chuckled, but it was a self-depreciating one. “No, you don’t understand. I’m a filly-cuddler.”

“A what?”

“Mare-lover.”

“Sorry, not familiar with the term.”

“Hold on, trying to remember the human term—ah, that’s it.” She paused for a second and added, “I’m a lesbian.”

“Oh.” He was quiet for a second, before realization kicked in. “Oh. Shit, now I’m really sorry. I know it’s an old joke for guys to bag the carpet munchers, but really, I’m not like that.”

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I was clearly looking for comfort and didn’t know it.” She shook her head. “I’m married, but my mate left me three weeks ago. I….” Lyra trailed off, not knowing what to say. She picked herself off the floor, going to sit on the bed again. “I…I was just so lonely, and….”

“Listen…you’re not the only one. I graduated yesterday, but I went to Döner to drown my sorrows. You see, I had a fiancée once, a beautiful woman named Kendra. Kendra was the only girl for me, and I loved her very, very much. And then six months ago, I lost her.” He looked out the window, watching a bird dance in the sky. “Were you here for the big accident on Route 15 down by Aldie back in October?”

“Yeah. Truck jackknifed, caused a multicar pileup that pretty much clogged the only way out of that village. Someone I know that works at State lives just outside of Middleburg. He was caught in the accident and hospitalized for months.”

“Kendra was in the forwardmost car when the truck jackknifed. She drove this antique 1983 Datsun 280ZX that she used to tinker with in her spare time. But that antiquated piece of shit wasn’t strong enough to block all that metal coming her way from both directions. The coroner told us she never felt a thing. But I did. I felt my heart ripped out of me forever that day.” His eyes started to water. “Today was supposed to be our wedding day.”

“Oh, Paul, I’m so sorry to hear that. Marriage is something so special and precious that—” She stopped, laughing bitterly. “Like I’m some sort of expert on marriage. I just flushed mine down the toilet, and I just don’t know what went wrong. Bonnie…Bon-Bon and I have been together for nearly twenty years. She’s my life, and now, now I….” She just fell back on the bed. “I just don’t want to feel anymore.”

“I’ve been feeling that way for months now. All I lived for was that diploma. Now, what have I got left?” He flopped down on the bed as well then turned to look at her. “I’m just a shell now.”

Lyra looked up. “I…I feel like your ceiling. Blank, empty.” She turned to look at him. “Just like you.”

Lyra wasn’t sure who started it, but suddenly they were kissing, holding each other. He was kissing her, caressing her, not caring that she was an “alien” anymore. She was kissing back, her preferences forgotten. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew it was wrong; that she was a married mare; that she still loved Bon-Bon and this was so damn wrong. But another part of her was lonely and that part just. Didn’t. Care.

She craved this. She needed this. She wanted this. And despite it was so wrong, so much a betrayal, she kept going.

She gave a soft whinny of pleasure, even as she whispered, “Bon-Bon, forgive me.”

Hunger of one kind quickly gave into another.

Lyra? Bon-Bon swore for a moment she heard her lover’s tender sighs. But that was impossible – Lyra was a reality away, back in the house in Leesburg. Or probably in her office, Bon-Bon sighed. That’s how things were now between the two, and that’s probably the way things would always be now.

But it wasn’t as though she didn’t love Lyra. They’d been together for seventeen years, married for most of that. There was no one else Bon-Bon would ever want in her life. But they’d become two very different ponies now, and sometimes that ended marriages. Here, back in Ponyville, she could start over, restart her business. She’d never look for a relationship again; she didn’t think she could ever love somepony like she did Lyra, but leaving, starting the process to file for divorce and starting a new life here was the answer. It was definitely the answer to her needs. No more worrying about if they had anything at Bloomingdale’s that came in her size…or clothing at all, for that matter. No worrying about driving, because a year after first contact there were only a hoofful of cars in Equestria. No more worrying about having to make friends with humans; all her friends here in Ponyville were normal, well-adjusted ponies. Or as normal as one could get for Ponyville, in any case.

So if this was perfect…why did she feel as though she was about to make the biggest mistake of her life?

She didn’t have time to answer that as her door was suddenly kicked in. Before she could even react a hoof slammed hard across her face, as a familiar voice screamed, “You NAG!” A gray blur leapt in towards her, ramming her and slamming her into the nearby wall, knocking the wind out of Bon-Bon. She felt bruises come, tasted the sudden splash of blood as she bit her lip.

Bon-Bon turned to see who was hitting her, and when she saw, she gasped. That gasp didn’t last for long, though, as she took another hit to the stomach and crumpled to the ground.

Trying to make sense of what was happening, Bon-Bon blinked away the pain, not believing who her attacker was. She was suddenly being beaten up by, of all ponies….

…Octavia.

“TAVI, THAT’S ENOUGH!” Bon-Bon suddenly heard Vinyl’s voice as she felt a protective spell wrap around her. “How is this going to help Ly?” Bon-Bon didn’t have time to figure out why Octavia was out of control and Vinyl was being the calm one, but it didn’t matter.

“But she…!” Octavia wheeled to face her old friend.

“I know. But you didn’t answer my question: how is this going to help Ly?”

Octavia slumped on the floor, defeated by mere words. “She needs some sense bucked into her, Vinyl.”

“Tavi, get out of here before you embarrass yourself further – that’s my job, remember?” she said with a grin that held no humor.

Octavia looked at her with frustration, then huffed a noise of displeasure. She then walked out, head held high, pride on her face as if she’d just performed a solo concerto in front of thousands.

Vinyl offered Bon-Bon a hoof up. “Here.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me, Bon-Bon. Don’t let how calm I’m feeling right now make you think that I’m any less disgusted with you.”

“I didn’t think so. What I’m thankful for is that you weren’t the one that went nuts.” Bon-Bon crawled over to the couch and just dropped on it. “I don’t think Octavia could have stopped you.”

“She could have stopped me, just as Ly could have if the situation were different. You see, that’s what comes from the three of us having grown up together – we’re kinda like sisters, in that way. Which is why both Tavi and I really hate you right now.”

Bon-Bon gasped as her eyes grew wide. “You…hate me?”

“Okay, hate is probably a strong word,” Vinyl said as she removed her shades. As Bon-Bon looked in them, she could see rage, hurt and sorrow. “But you hurt Ly. Do you really think Tavi and I were going to be all sunshine and daffodils?”

“I guess not.”

“I want to know why,” Vinyl demanded. “I won’t tell Ly, but if you’re not in love with her anymore, the—”

“No, you’re wrong. I do love her,” Bon-Bon responded. “But I can’t…I can’t be her who she wants me to be. Because it scares me.”

“Huh?” Vinyl went to get something to drink; Bon-Bon probably needed something as well. “Mind dumbing that down so I can understand?”

Bon-Bon’s eyes started to tear. “Because I’m afraid of becoming like them.”

“Humans?”

“Sort of – like some of the idiots in the Wives’ Club. You see, the wives of all the ambassadors get together and talk about our husbands – I’m the only one who’s married to someone of the same sex – and while I haven’t attended any of the formal meetings yet, I’ve attended enough of the informal gatherings to know that some of them disgust me. For example, Maxima Laurent, the wife of the ambassador to Belgium? She’s bored and sleeps around with anyone she can find – she even hit on me once, just because she could. And then there’s Maria Ramos, the wife of the Honduran ambassador. She deliberately tries to get in legal trouble, just so she can waive diplomatic immunity. Oh, and let’s not forget Fortuna Calibrisi, the wife of the Italian ambassador – she’s a drunken fool who makes Berry Punch look good.”

“Um…Berry doesn’t really drink. I mean, she’s a winemaker, but she got really drunk once, just once, and got pegged with ‘town drunk’ ever since. That’s not fair to her.”

“Nevermind,” Bon-Bon growled. “Anyway, the only friends I have are Sharon – Sharon Guilder, she’s the wife of the Canadian Ambassador, and Lin Li-Hui, the wife of the Chinese ambassador. But Sharon’s always flying back between Ottawa and DC, so I almost never see her; and Li speaks very little Equestriani…I mean, English to understand what she’s saying. And…I just can’t take the loneliness anymore.”

“So abandoning Lyra was the answer? Despite the fact that Lyra needs you right now, you just up and left? She’s got one of the toughest problems a pony could ever have, and you just bailed on her?”

“Lyra doesn’t need me. She’s always been so strong.”

“You bucking idiot.” Vinyl sat in the chair across from Bon-Bon, but the gap between them seemed like a chasm. “How could you be with Ly for as long as you have and not know that she tends to hide her problems? How could you not know that? It’s when she acts like she doesn’t need anypony that she needs somepony the most!” Vinyl rubbed her forehead; she was trying to be the rational one right now and for her, it wasn’t very easy. “So let me see if I get this straight: you’ve been a taker in the relationship this whole time, and when Ly needs you, you up and bail?”

“I never…that’s not fair to me, Vinyl!”

“Maybe not, but from where I’m standing…well, sitting…it’s the truth. Look, I’m the one who’s single, and even I know that spouses are supposed to support each other. Tavi and Ivory have been through thick and thin. I’ve never married because, well…I’d like to say that I’m just too much of a wildmare to settle down, but the truth is that I just don’t have the courage that Tavi and Ly do to be married. And I thought that you did when you and Ly got together. But you’re nothing but a fair-weather filly.”

Vinyl got up from her chair. “If you really do love her, then make a choice: do you love her enough to stay and change? Or do you love her enough to let her go? Don’t even ask me for what you should do – that’s up to you. I’ll still be your friend no matter what your choice is. But if you don’t make a choice and let Ly suffer? I will never forgive you.” She walked to the door. “I’ve got a rave I’m performing at in Fillydelphia, so I’ve gotta get going if I’m going to make it there by tomorrow. But I hope you choose the right thing – for both you and her.”

As Vinyl left, Bon-Bon cried in silence. She loved Lyra, but she didn’t have the strength to continue this. She looked at the kitchen counter, where the divorce papers were, then to the wall nearby, where there was a picture of Lyra and Bon-Bon on their wedding day. She looked so beautiful to Bon-Bon then, and years later, nothing that changed about that – nothing would ever change about that.

In the end, Lyra had changed – and Bon-Bon hadn’t, which, she now realized meant that despite Lyra’s foolish attitude at times, it had been Lyra that had grown up – and Bon-Bon hadn’t.

Lyra, I love you. I need you. But I can’t take things as they are. What should I do?

Dinner that night had been a pizza. Fortunately, as Paul mentioned, Kendra had been a strict vegan, so he was used to dealing without meat. And as he looked at the unicorn sitting at the kitchen table, eating a slice, he wondered how he’d gotten himself in this mess – and dragged someone else into it, no less.

As for Lyra, somehow she instinctively did what every woman seemed to have ever done to a guy she was staying with: slid on her panties, then dived in his closet for a long-sleeved something or other. In Lyra’s case, it had been one of his dress shirts. Strangely enough, she looked good in it.

“So, what happens now?” he asked her, pouring himself a glass of Dr. Pepper. He could’ve used a beer at the moment, but that was how he got into this mess in the first place.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, drinking from her glass as well – water, in her case, as she was taking the same precaution. “Well, I’ve gotta go back to work Monday, or else the world goes to pot.”

“Yeah. As for me, I’ve got an appointment with your ambassador on Monday. I work for Lincoln & Lincoln – the criminal law firm – and now that I’ve got my diploma, Abe Lincoln – my boss – wants me to start working more on that case until I pass the bar. Once that’s done, I’ll be taking it over full-time – it’s a headache, from what I understand, and Abe’s told me that if he knew it was going to be this involved, he and his wife would’ve steered clear of it. But yeah, Abe and I will be meeting with him at 8:30. Do you know anything about it?”

“Well, I know for starters that the Equestriani ambassador’s not a he,” she snickered.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” For some reason she laughed. “You’ve been in bed with her for the past few hours.”

The look on his face was priceless. “Fuck, I just get into all the stupid situations, don’t I?”

“Well, let’s just meet now over this, shall we? It’ll get our minds off of…what’s been happening the past few hours. March last year, a bunch of our guardsponies went rogue and tried to foalnap – and rape – DJ Martinez, the pony that’s been living here for all her life.”

“Yeah, read about her case in law school. Fascinating stuff.”

“She’s a sweet kid. Just turned sixteen, as I understand; and now has a car, so she’s probably responsible for all the speeding tickets over in Winchester. Hopefully, she’s forgotten all the garbage she went through in the custody case last year.”

“Saw that on the news. It was enough of an issue over here that it dominated the news cycle all over the world for months. But seriously, I got the impression that it was causing Equestria to go to the brink of civil war. A civil war, just over a kid?”

“A lot of people honestly think so. DJ’s special – she’s lived over here most of her life, but she’s also the daughter of a duchess and potentially a future Knight Elemental.”

“A what?”

“A Knight Elemental – that’s the official title. More often than not, we just call them Bearers of the Elements. It’s a long explanation, but the short of it is the whole situation is like if King William and Queen Catherine of the UK’s oldest child was whisked off to Equestria and raised as a pony – and wanted to stay there. And the some members of the Royal Marines supposedly went on their own to rescue the kid, and—”

“Okay, I get it. So this is some serious world-class Watergate stuff for your government.”

“Well, I don’t know what Watergate is, but from your tone, yeah, it’s that bad. Anyway, the ponies that did the deed claim over and over again that they had no intention to rape her and that they thought clothing was some sort of mystic bondage. But then they pled guilty and refused to say anything else. They’re hiding something, and we’re afraid they’re covering up a conspiracy of some kind in our government. They refuse to say anything more than – and I quote – Human Nature.”

“So it’s a Voodoo Shark, then.”

“A what?”

“A Voodoo Shark. One of my law professors, Dr. Fossile, explained it: it’s a hole in an explanation that leaves a bigger hole in the original issue. Usually it’s a sign that they’re desperately covering for someone but not smart enough to cover their tracks entirely – it’s like flashing a giant neon sign that says ‘Don’t Look at Me, I’m Invisible.’ As for the term, I’m not sure where it comes from, but Dr. Fossile’s a huge movie buff and quotes from old films all the time, so it’s probably something like that.”

“I was afraid of that – the covering, I mean. Archmagus Sparkle – she’s the head of the advance team, went to a lot of effort to ensure no one would do something like this, and for someone to steal the intel from her, well…. Twilight – that’s her first name – suspects that it’s someone from the guard who got it, and the only ones who could potentially have access to that information are both high-level government ponies…and in many cases, are personal friends of hers.” Lyra looked at Paul, a sad look in her eyes. “If somepony, say like Sky Hunter, Blossomforth or Scootaloo did it? There’d be hell to pay.”

“So if someone, say, like this Scootaloo did it, it could cause a serious issue in your government?”

“Honestly, I was just throwing Scoot’s name out there as an example. No way in hell would she ever be involved – she and Twilight are very close, and to do that – it’d be utter betrayal. I may as well say Rainbow Dash planned the whole thing, while I’m reaching for things that just wouldn’t happen.” A part of her winced as she said that – she was here, now, betraying Bon-Bon…so nothing was sacrosanct any longer.

“Well, thanks. I’ll look for it.” A pause. “Should I meet with you Monday?”

“Yeah. I’ve got some extra paperwork back in my office you’ll probably want to look at. But I’ll probably have you meet with Wing Wishes – she’s my Deputy – because I’ll have to recuse myself from this.”

“Yeah, sleeping with your attorney tends to do that,” he chuckled, but remembering their situation, immediately shut up. “But that opens the question again: what about us?”

“I don’t know, Paul. I don’t know.” She yawned. “I seriously need some sleep. I haven’t been sleeping very well as of late.”

“I see.” He was quiet for a long time, then said, “Um, I can’t believe I’m asking this, but…would you care to stay here?”

“I…why?”

“I don’t know. I have no idea why I’m asking,” he said. “Honestly, you’re married and a lesbian to boot, and I’m still in mourning. And yet…well, I just don’t know.”

Lyra thought about it and had every reason to walk over to the room, grab her clothes and leave, so it surprised her as she said, “Yeah. I’ll stay. Where are we, anyway?”

“We’re in my apartment, unless you mean the town, in which case we’re in Vienna. I didn’t know where you lived, so I figured I’d just let you crash here on my couch.”

“All the way over in Vienna? She laughed as she shook her head. “I live within walking distance of Döner, over on Embassy Row.”

“Well, Ambassador, I didn’t exactly know that at the time.”

“We might have to remedy that later.”

“What was that?”

“…nothing.”

Monday morning came, and as Lyra walked into the embassy, she had a smile on her face to beat the band. It was enough that everyone, both human and pony, stopped what they were doing to look at the happy, nearly-skipping ambassador as she walked in. But she didn’t get far before she ran into her Deputy. Wing Wishes stood there, a serious look on her face. “Morning, Lyra. How much salt have you been licking this weekend? It’s the only reason to explain why you’re…well, you’re looking better than you have the past few weeks.” She stepped in close and whispered, “Look, I know Bon-Bon’s leaving hit you hard, but…hey, I’m a friend and if you need to talk, I’d rather that than you hitting the bottle.”

“I’m fine, Wing,” Lyra assured the pegasus. “So what’s on the agenda?”

“Well, I was going to take your 8:30 with Mr. Lincoln. He’s bringing over the new lawyer that’s going to be handling the case from now on. After that, well, your whole schedule’s clear – I took all your appointments today.”

“Yeah, about that, I was going to ask you to take the 8:30—wait, what do you mean you’re taking all my appointments?”

The look on the other mare was crestfallen. “You…have some paperwork to fill out. They just arrived this morning. Lyra…I’m sorry.”

The celeste unicorn immediately rushed to the stairs; waiting for the elevator was going to take too long. Racing to the fourth floor, she went towards her office, blew past her secretary without saying hello and dived at her desk.

There, sitting on a stack of papers, was a single letter.

Lyra,

I love you. I love everything about you. You are the only one I could ever love. But I can’t be the mare you want me to be.

I’m sorry.

- Bon-Bon

Underneath that was the first page of the divorce documents.

Lyra just sank at her desk and watched her life fade to nothingness.

Broken Heartstrings, Part Two

She grabbed her briefcase, fished keys out of her pocket and got out of the car. “Thanks for the ride, Terry. Got plans?”

He smiled. “Oh, absolutely. Wife took the kids to see her parents in Chicago, so it’s just me and the Nats. They’re playing the Padres this weekend, and if San Diego wins, it’s going to make things dicey for us in the second half of the season. We’re barely just ahead of the Mets.”

“Go Nats,” she said. “Maybe Bradshaw’ll shut ‘em down tonight and the Mets’ll lose bad to Oklahoma City.”

“That would be just beautiful.” As Lyra made her way to the door and Terry went back to the car, he stopped. “Ambassador?”

She looked up. “Hrm?”

“Congratulations. You of all people deserve this weekend.”

Lyra gave her chauffeur a great smile, the kind of smile that said volumes. “See you in a couple of weeks!” She raced into the house, happy as a lark.

The house still smelled of roses and candles, sandalwood and other delicate scents, just a few of the changes that had occurred in the past five years. She’d made some changes to the house, some things she didn’t like now gone and some things her ex-wife had put in the house…well, Lyra was pretty sure Goodwill made the best of them. The house had undergone such a radically different look, it almost seemed as though a different couple lived there now. Which wasn’t too far from the truth.

That being said, she went over to the phone.

“YOU HAVE TWO MESSAGES. FIRST MESSAGE:”

“Ambassador Heartstrings? St John Colmes. I’m the new ambassador for the United Kingdom, and I was hoping to meet with you sometime. I understand you’re somewhat busy this weekend – my congratulations – but when you return I’m available whenever you are. Please give my office a call – I understand you’re well familiar with the number from your conversations with my predecessor, who I understand will be at the ceremony. Again, my congratulations to you, and I’ll talk to you soon.”

“NEXT MESSAGE.”

“Hey, Lyra? It’s me, DJ. Just got in yesterday from LA. I’m really touched that you want me to be part of the bridesmaids – or is that bridlesmaids, ha! Anyway, I’ll drop my stuff at my parents, then meet you at your place. By the way, I’m seriously jealous – Mike and I have to at least wait until we finish college before we think about it. Well, I’ll let you get back to being Bridezilla. See you when I get there!”

“END OF MESSAGES.”

“Hey, sis – glad you’re home.”

Lyra turned and dived at her older brother. “You made it, Harper!”

Harper Heartstrings laughed. “As if I’d miss this mess you made for the world.” Big brother looked down at little sister, and it was amazing in the similarities between the two; even though they were two years apart in difference, they looked almost like twins. “I’m proud of you, Lyra.”

She let go of him and sat down on the couch, he beside her. “I’m so nervous, I feel like a little filly – like I’m getting married for the first time all over again.”

“Well, in a sense you are: first marriage between a pony and a human; or as they’re seeing it, a human and a non-human.”

“Yeah, and you’re going to be meeting the ‘loser’ in that race – at least for some reason, she thinks she is, even though I keep telling her it’s not a contest. DJ will probably complain up a small storm, but she means well.”

“Well, we’ll just have to give her some grief about it then, won’t we?” a familiar voice called from upstairs. Lyra leapt off the couch and raced towards the stairs, squealing like a schoolfilly when she saw who it was.

“Paul, I thought human tradition said you’re not supposed to see the bride the night before the wedding.”

“Um, that’s in the bridal gown, gorgeous – and that’s probably a Christian thing…I think. I’m Jewish, so it’s not like I keep up on that stuff.”

Getting up from the couch, Harper looked at his soon-to-be brother-in-law. “So, you ready for the bachelor’s party?”

“Yeah, Adam’s got it all planned. I just don’t want you to get any grief, Harper.”

He shrugged. “There’s only two unicorns with my coat color here on human Earth, and only one is a male country singer popular on the Billboard country charts right now. I don’t have much chance to hide, so I’ll deal.”

The two males continued to talk as Lyra made plans for tomorrow. Her friends would be here soon, and the last minute details settled. She still had to call to make sure that the honeymoon was all set up – Germany was going to be great, though Paul joked that only she would want to spend their honeymoon watching soccer games. And then there were all the rest of the hundreds of details that needed to be dealt with before tomorrow, not the least of which was the dozens of guests that were invited.

She wondered if one in particular would come. She wondered if even sending the invite was a good idea.

In the five years since, the house was as broken as its owner. At first glance, a pony couldn’t tell, but upon closer inspection, that’s where the cracks in the foundation were seen, both in the house and the pony that lived in it.

“Are you sure you’re not coming?” Twilight asked. “She’d be happy to see you again.”

“Twilight, just leave me alone,” Bon-Bon moaned. Tomorrow should have been just another day. Instead, it would be the worst day of her life.

“Leave her alone, Twilight,” Octavia said. “She did this to herself.”

“That’s a pretty harsh thing to say to a friend, Octavia.”

“Not really; I don’t consider her a friend anymore,” Octavia huffed. “If she hadn’t been such a coward five years ago, this would be just another day for her – instead of her worst nightmare.”

“Tavi, that’s enough,” Vinyl said. “We’ve gotta go, so let’s get going. We’ll see you later, Bon-Bon.” As they walked out of the house, Vinyl looked at Twilight. “Please tell me you’ve got someone keeping an eye on her. It’s going to be hell for her this weekend.”

“I had Sweetie Belle set an alarm spell on the house. Anything out of the ordinary happens, it’ll notify just about everypony in the area that Bon-Bon knows, and Sweetie’s staying at a nearby hotel just in case.”

Octavia was surprised; Rarity and Sweetie Belle were once as close as sisters could be, but things had changed far more than anyone had ever expected in the past five years – and the former fashionista wasn’t the mare she was twenty years ago. “Not at her sister’s?”

Twilight sighed in frustration. “Between Sweetie Belle being my apprentice and me taking over Cinnamon’s education, Rarity’s accusing me of stealing our family’s foals. I’m ignoring it – it’s just Rarity being Rarity, but Sweetie Belle was seriously ticked. They’re not as close as they used to be way back when.”

“Well, get that gate open, Twilight,” Vinyl said. “We’re running late as is.” At that, the purple unicorn’s horn lit up with arcane forces, and the very fabric of reality tore apart in front of them, leaving nothing but a soft blue shimmer. The three ponies walked through the gate, and it disappeared as if it never existed.

Watching from the window, part of Bon-Bon wanted to go, wanted to see her again, wanted to kiss her again, hold her, tell her she was so, so sorry and to beg to take her back. But with that portal shut now, that avenue was closed forever. Tomorrow, Lyra would remarry, and Bon-Bon would forever be alone. Just as she deserved.

She regretted that choice she made now, that choice she made five years past. She thought she could live with the choice; that it would only be temporary and Lyra would come back to Ponyville and they could go back to the way they were, back to the days before humans and the return of a human-raised pony long thought dead. But that was naïve, foolish – time never rolls back, it just keeps going forward and dragging everything along with it.

It was a year after she moved back that she found out Lyra had moved on, had fallen in love again – with a human…shockingly, a male. When she found that out, she knew their relationship was truly over and Bon-Bon tried to start a new life: she dated a couple other mares, but nothing ever stuck, and each failed relationship always ended in the same way, each paramour accusing her of turning them into twisted versions of Lyra.

And how could she not? That’s what was in her mind every night and nearly in her thoughts every day. Those beautiful eyes, that sleek coat, those tender sighs that she once knew were for her and now belonged to someone else. It became so bad she fantasized about Lyra all the time, at night, in the sheets when she was so cold and alone. She could almost feel her former lover’s forelegs around her as she cuddled, feel her breath on her neck….

Bon-Bon was slowly driving herself mad with her memories. And it showed in many small, barely noticeable ways: there was no more light in her eyes, and she developed a false grin humans referred to as a “Pan Am Smile.” Her confectionary still did wonderful business, but long-time purchasers noticed something different about it, as though the love in Bon-Bon’s craft was gone and everything was being done by rote action. The paintjob on the house began to peel, left untouched; the furniture inside no longer quite as taken care of as it used to be. By the time the fourth year came around and the news that Lyra was to marry her boyfriend, the unicorn’s ex-wife was nothing more than a shell of herself.

Bon-Bon knew the house was being watched, that even if she wanted to end her life nopony would allow that. And so Bon-Bon sat in a hell of her own making as reality came down on her.

Celestia smiled. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.” To the side of the alicorn princess, Paul’s father, a rabbi, gave the traditional Jewish blessing for a happy marriage.

Lyra and Paul kissed as the crowd clapped in applause. Watching from his seat on the bride’s family’s side, Midshipman 3rd Class Mike Hengst, USNA, watched the happy couple…and his girlfriend, DJ, standing as one of the bridesmaids. DJ had expressed frustration that they weren’t the first pony/human married couple, to which Mike had pointed out they had been the first human/non-human couple, period, to which she then admitted that she’d been joking and she was really happy for Lyra and Paul.

As the newly-married couple walked down the aisle and headed towards the reception, DJ walked up to her boyfriend. “They look so wonderful. When are you going to make an honest woman of me?”

“Isn’t that honest mare?” he joked. In turn, she gently slugged him in the arm – gently being a relative term, as with her being an earth pony with significantly increased strength as compared the average human woman, it hurt like hell. As she looked at him with that pout she’d long mastered that weaseled into his heart, he sighed. “We agreed that we’d do it after you finish college and I graduate from the academy and get commissioned,” he reminded her. Ever the gentleman, he offered her his arm, which she of course took as they headed towards the reception.

“I know, but...you said they’ve been stationing more personnel in the Fifth Fleet and NAVCENT, and if you get assigned there, we’ll have to wait until you transfer somewhere else.” That was true, and that was a problem: many of the Middle Eastern countries refused to accept the ponies and denounced them as demons; one of the officers at the Academy told him about a editorial in an extremist newspaper talking about “the unnatural bestiality of infidels consorting with demons” – and then lengthily discussed DJ and Mike by name. The lieutenant in question who told him about it was a Muslim himself and told him that “normal members of my religion don’t care who you marry – it doesn’t affect them. But as I’m sure you know, things are different over in Batshit-istan.” But it unnerved Mike that they knew so much about both his life and hers – especially DJ, who longed to be nothing more than a normal “human.” Mike had told his parents and asked his father to tell DJ’s parents about it; everyone in turn agreed this was something DJ didn’t need to know about.

“Mike, is something wrong? You’ve got that lost in thought look in your eyes again.”

“Yeah. I was just thinking about what you were talking about. If something like that happens, would you wait for me?”

“Do you really have to ask that? I knew a long time ago you were the only man for me, and that will never change.” She leaned into his arm. “I am always yours.”

“I know,” he said with a soft smile, and as he looked at the happy couple by the wedding cake, he said, “and someday, love, someday that will be us.”

The next day, the newlyweds were on a plane to Munich. Paul was asleep in the chair next to her, while she read the latest issue of Cycle World on her iPad – she promised him she wouldn’t bring work along while they were on their honeymoon, and she kept to it. Well, almost to it: while in the airport, she chatted with a couple from Japan who had been in the US for fertility treatments, only to have them fail. They had told her since that happened, they were thinking about adopting. Lyra found that sweet and just off-handedly mentioned that orphans in Equestria rarely if ever got adopted, something that the Crown hoped they could someday improve. When the couple expressed interest, Lyra pointed them in the way of the Honolulu consulate; as there was no embassy in Japan yet, the Honolulu branch was in charge of Japanese issues along with Blossomforth, who had been tapped to be the ambassador to Japan as soon as relations were set. They sincerely thanked her and went off.

Lyra smiled; it was nice to know that she’d helped someone along. She didn’t know if the adoption would go through, but considering the War of the Elements was now six years in the past, hopefully things had changed. She would have to pass Blossomforth the name of the family…Umega? Uema? No – Ueda. That was it.

At her side, Paul woke up. “Oh, we there yet?”

“No, we’re over the Atlantic right now.”

“Ah. I hate flying, personally. Always afraid I’m going to die in a plane crash – yeah, I know the chances are infinitesimal and there hasn’t been a plane crash in the US in three years now, but it’s always something that’s just nagged me since I was a kid.”

“Well, I like it.”

“It’s also your first time on a plane and we haven’t hit turbulence yet,” he said. “What are you reading? Hope it’s not work.”

She smiled. “I promised you I wouldn’t. I’m reading Cycle World. My MRX is getting long in the tooth, and I was thinking about replacing it with a new bike, maybe a Fischer GRF Special or a Buell 1125R Renaissance.”

He grinned. “Or you could suddenly become sane and get yourself a Harley softail like mine.”

“Uh, sweetie? Buells are made by Harley; they’re just sport bikes, not hogs. And personally, I prefer sport bikes.”

“Well, what about that Ducati you had your eye on last month?”

“Read the reviews,” she said, rapping a hoof on the tablet screen. “Breaks down too often and the reviewer says it’s not worth it.”

“Well,” he said whimsically, “just make sure you get something with adequate horsepower.”

“Ugh – that joke is as old as DJ’s ‘pony with a ponycar.’”

“Just as long as I get to keep making bad jokes with you for the rest of my life, Lyra Heartstrings.”

“Nope,” she said as she leaned in to kiss him. “Lyra Phillips.”

A bunch of ponies pointed and laughed at a gaunt, solitary figure as she walked through Ponyville. She looked utterly destroyed, and it was clear the mare had seen better days.

“Hey! Stop that! That’s not nice!” a young pegasus filly said. She was just five years old, and surprisingly, she was here, standing up to the bullies.

“Whatever. Who do you think you are, brat?” the oldest colt said.

“I’m Cinnamon Star!” the filly proudly proclaimed. “My Mommy’s Fluttershy, the Element of Kindness!”

“Yeah, but you aren’t,” one of the other colts, said, taking a threatening step towards Cinnamon. The young filly suddenly realized that maybe standing up to defend the mare, who hadn’t noticed and was still walking on, was not a good idea after all.

A figure rounded the corner – a pegasus, majestic and yellow in color. Her outstretched wings flaring in the sunlight, the sun obscured her face; but the colts knew who the pegasus was. “Is there a problem, gentlecolts?” the pony said in a mild, even voice tinged with unassailable authority. The three colts responded by running in the opposite direction as if their lives depended on it.

“Try that again!” Cinnamon said to their backs, unaware her mother had been the one to stop them.

“Sweetie,” Fluttershy said to her daughter, “I’m proud that you stood up for that mare, but you need to be more careful, okay?” Before Cinnamon could answer, Fluttershy placed the filly upon her back. “Now, we’ve got to get going for Canterlot – you’re late for your studies with your aunt.”

“Yay! I get to see Aunt Twilight today!” Cinnamon smiled; Aunt Twilight was bestest pony, and Aunt Sweetie Belle, who was also there often, always gave Cinnamon candy. Once in a while, she’d get lucky and Uncle Spike or Cadance would be there and things would be even better. But a thought crossed the filly’s mind and she asked, “Mommy? Who’s that mare?”

Fluttershy turned and looked at the wreck of a pony that was once Bon-Bon. It hurt her to see the earth pony so destroyed, but there was nothing anypony could do: Bon-Bon had just about cut everypony out of her life, closed her store and nowadays only left her increasingly dilapidated home to get food from the market. Ponies were now calling her the recluse and crazymare; enough so that even Berry Punch’s undue reputation had been redeemed.

“She was somepony,” Fluttershy diplomatically told her daughter, “who was happy once. And I hope that someday she’ll be that way again.”

“Happy Anniversary, love.” Lyra felt absolutely spoiled; Paul, in addition to his myriad other talents, was also a good cook. In her previous relationship, Bon-Bon had done all the cooking, and so Lyra had never really learned. Now, she was trying, and while she was nowhere near her husband’s skill level, she was learning. Fortunately, she did pick up a few extra things here and there, as evidenced by her put the finishing touches on the chocolate cake.

“Has it been two years already?” he asked, lovingly running fingers through her mane and then caressing her horn. “It just seems like yesterday that we had a rude awakening in my apartment in Vienna.”

“Yeah,” she said, taking his hands in her forehooves and kissing them. “Seven years, two of them married.” She smiled at the man she loved with all her heart. At first, their relationship didn’t go well; both of them were using each other and they knew it. But in time, they stopped and became friends, real friends, true friends – and when that happened, genuine love had taken hold. It was a nervous excitement for both the first time they made love, truly made love as a couple instead of just being “friends with benefits.” And then three years ago, while at an exhibition match between United and Barca, he popped the question – via the jumbotron screen, of course. There was no other answer she could give, no other answer she wanted to give.

It had helped much that his parents had adored her from the very start; Paul’s mother Joan was a painter and for most of her life, much to Lyra’s chagrin, the subject of her paintings had been unicorns – not real unicorns like Lyra, but human Earth’s mythological horse with a horn, goat’s gruff and lion’s tail. Paul’s father joked that because Lyra’s hooves weren’t cloven she wasn’t kosher to marry, but they’d make an exception since she was so nice – that, and like Lyra, David Phillips was a huge soccer fan.

But the other help in her life had been, strangely enough, DJ. The human-raised pony helped Lyra through a lot of things that the so-called pony authority on humans knew nothing about; the older mare learned as much from the younger one as did vice versa. She was there to help DJ when her heart had been broken; her fears had come true and Mike had been stationed at Fifth Fleet HQ in Bahrain as part of the UN’s constant watch over the powder keg that was Somalia.

As Lyra understood it, the area had once been three prosperous African nations, but starting in the 1970s, decades of neglect and corruption had turned army against army and turned everything into a perpetual warzone. With the addition of piracy and terrorists attempting to carve their own nation out of the ruins, the United Nations was left to piece together an international coalition to deal with the problem. Unfortunately, every attempt to rectify the situation, whether through diplomatic or military means, ended in brutal failure. With chaos now a way of life in the former countries of Eritrea, Ethiopia and Somalia, international politics had essentially merged them into the latter “nation”, just for convenience; in the “Greater Somalia Conflict Zone”, human politics were far more diverse and troubling than those from Alter-Earth had ever expected. The only country left in that part of Africa that remained stable and free was Djibouti and that was only due to the constant presence of peacekeepers from the Netherlands and Turkey, later backed up by Draconia, Griphonia and Gazellis.

“Hon, you’re thinking about work again, aren’t you?”

“That obvious?” she asked, to which he nodded her head. “Sorry. I just can’t stop thinking about the Somalia situation, and how sad it is.”

“It’s been that way since Pop was a kid,” Paul murmured as he snaked his arms around his wife. “Something…just happened there in 1979 and the country descended into chaos, and it was exacerbated by the famines in Ethiopia, then the civil war that split Ethiopia and Eritrea, and then after the assassination of the Somali president in 2004, everything completely went to hell. But why are you thinking about that?”

“I was talking to AC the other day. The UN’s asking if REA troops would be willing to take over the Dutch part of the peacekeeping mission once their mission ends at the end of the year.”

“This world is crazy, Lyra – we humans aren’t very good at keeping the peace.”

“You’re better than you realize,” she said to her husband. “This world could have been destroyed a billion times over with all the weapons mankind has at its disposal, yet it hasn’t happened. A small nuclear-armed country like Iran could easily defeat all the militaries of my Earth, and yet that hasn’t happened either. Humans might be chaotic, but they’re also very peaceful. I should know – I’m married to the best one of them all,” she said with a smile.

“Well, this might not be the best Earth in the world to raise our children on, but it’s the only one we’ve got. Okay, well, yours too, but that’s not the point,” he said, tenderly kissing her.

Lyra immediately caught what he meant. “You…you mean it?”

He nodded. “Of course, we can’t have children of our own, but I’d have no problem adopting. There are tons of children out there that could use parents, and if I remember what you said once, the situation’s even worse on your Earth.”

She gave him a wide smile. They were going to have a family.

“Redheart,” Twilight said to the doctor standing by her side, “thank you. I really appreciate you going to the trouble.” Twilight’s face was stoic, but for anyone looking at the anguish in her eyes, it was too much to see.

“No need to thank me, Twilight,” the doctor said. “This was going to happen sooner or later, and I’m glad we did this before it was too late.”

Vinyl turned to cry into the chest of her coltfriend. She’d met Licorice Pizza, the lead singer and guitarist pegasus of the rock band HUFSTOMPR shortly after Lyra’s wedding, and though they’d never tied the knot they were clearly together for life. The stallion held his crying fillyfriend to his chest, whispering, “She’ll get better, Vinyl. She’ll get better, I promise.”

Octavia, held by her husband, couldn’t look anymore and turned away both in sorrow and shame. She now regretted everything she’d ever said, wished she could pull back every nasty comment. She never wanted this to happen, never.

The group was at Elysian Fields, Equestria’s top mental health care center in the center of the country, a hundred miles north of San Caballo. The grounds were well-kept and beautiful and the staff was some of the best caretakers in all of Equestria and Redheart had joined them when she got her doctorate in medicine. She was an old friend from Ponyville, and it was nice to catch up on old times. But that wasn’t the reason they were here.

The reason was the pony sitting on the bench, alone save for the nurse that hovered nearby just in case. She was catatonic, her mind gone to wherever those afflicted with mental illness went. She bore the wounds from her suicide attempt; it had been sheer luck that Sweetie Belle had forgotten to remove the alarm wards that had alerted everyone in time. But Bon-Bon was now gone, never to return. Instinctively, the earth pony curled into a ball, clutching a doll that looked disturbingly like a plushie version of Lyra.

“Should we tell Lyra?” Twilight asked as she continued to watch what was left of her friend clasp the last memories of her shattered mind.

“No. I don’t want her to know about this, not like this,” Octavia said. “Ivory and I have a guest performance with the New York Philharmonic next week. We’ll leave a day or two early and visit Lyra. She should know about this, but…this would only hurt her if we were blunt about it.”

It was a month later when Lyra and Paul visited Equestria. Both of them were already hurting: the Equestriani adoption commission had turned down their request to adopt a foal due to the “instability of a pony raised by a human”. Meanwhile, on human Earth the couple had been turned down because of Lyra’s age; though she didn’t look it, she was in her fifties now and that raised a concern to the various adopting agencies they’d worked with. But now the news of what had happened to Bon-Bon nearly tore Lyra apart. It wasn’t her fault and yet she felt so guilty. She could never thank her husband enough for agreeing to go with her.

And so there they stood, in front of the broken earth pony. Lyra looked at her old love; she looked so frail and fragile, so devoid of life. And yet she grasped a strange plushie that no one knew where she got from, that looked eerily like the celeste unicorn mare. Bon-Bon stared straight at Lyra, and yet nopony knew who she looked at, as her blank face gave no sign.

“Bonnie,” Lyra whispered, as she brushed Bon-Bon’s mane. “It’s me. It’s Lyra. Please, come back to us. You don’t deserve this, you deserve so much better. Live your life, Bonnie. Live it for yourself.” And then, the heartfelt admission: “Live it for me.” Leaning forward, Lyra kissed Bon-Bon as he had so many years ago. A part of Lyra’s skin bristled; standing not too far away, there was no way her husband hadn’t seen that.

But a miracle occurred: for once, there was a flicker of life, of recognition in Bon-Bon’s cyan eyes, and just as quickly it was gone again. But for the first time since she’d been admitted to the facility, there was a soft, fillyish smile on her face, as if she’d received the greatest gift in the world. Lyra whispered, “Live and be free, Bonnie.” Looking at the nurse, she said, “Please take care of her.” The nurse nodded and Lyra went off to join her husband.

As Lyra joined up with Paul, he scratched the back of his head. “Well…that was interesting.”

“Please don’t be mad at me, Paul. She just looked….” Lyra had no words she could say.

“You’re still in love with her, aren’t you?” His tone was not unkind nor was it an accusation.

“Yes.” Lyra couldn’t deny it: after all this time, her heart was still there. “Do you hate me?”

He looked at her, surprised. “How could I? You’re my wife and I love you. You still love me, don’t you?”

“I married you, didn’t I? Of course I love you, with all my heart.”

“No, not with all your heart,” he said. “And there’s nothing wrong with that. Love is a very human thing – excuse the term – and it doesn’t always make sense. Would you be mad at me if I told you I still cared about Kendra after all this time?”

“Not at all. Had circumstances been different, you would be married to her.”

“Then why would I deny you your feelings? Lyra, we are together forever, but I know that Bon-Bon was a larger part of your life than I’ve been. That just doesn’t go away, and you wouldn’t be the person you are if you let it.”

She leaned into his shoulder. “You’re the best man in the world, Paul Phillips.”

He grinned. “That’s because I have the best wife in the world, Lyra Phillips.”

“Lyra, I’ve got great news!” Twilight chirped.

“Look, I hate to break this news to you – I realize this might come as a shock to you, but your niece just got married,” Lyra said with playful sarcasm. “It’s her day today, so you might just want to pay a teensy bit of attention to the happy couple.” Lyra and Paul sat at the table with Twilight and…whichever guardspony one (or more) of the princesses insist escort the unicorn archmagus to the wedding. Twilight wasn’t much for relationships. On the other end of the room, the happy couple were cutting the wedding cake together, a dozen years since they’d first met and went through hell and back for this most joyous moment.

“That’s what I’m talking about, goofball,” she said with a smile. “I’ve spent the past year or so working on improving Star Swirl’s amniomorphic spell.”

“So? It’s an incredible spell, but all it does is just let us assume a human form down to the organic level,” Lyra said. When her husband looked interested, she said, “I never mentioned it because it doesn’t go all the way – I still couldn’t get pregnant. And you don’t seem to mind me being a unicorn instead of human at night, so….”

“Oh.” Paul was downcast. All avenues of adoption had failed, either because of his being human or her being too old. They both wanted a family, and now that chance was gone.

“Ah, but you didn’t let me finish,” Twilight said with a smile that made her look like the cat that ate the canary. “I’ve improved the spell so that it goes down to the genetic level.”

That caught Lyra’s attention. “You did…what?”

Twilight held up a sienna-colored rock with spikes of a chartreuse mineral jutting out from it; the rock pulsated with magic energy. “DJ and Mike had been discussing having children for the longest time, and I wanted to do something for my niece. But then I realized there’s another couple that could benefit from this. Now, this stone is for DJ; she’s just an earth pony with no ability for magic manipulation, so this should help her cast the spell. But a unicorn trained in basic spells, well, anyone like that should be able to keep the spell powered for about twelve hours at a time, though it might exhaust the user’s magic for a few days.”

Lyra looked at Twilight, then at Paul. The sudden smile on her face was absolutely beatific.

“Twilight, you’re my new best friend for all time, did I ever mention that?” Lyra said as tears of joy started to water in her eyes.

“Are you ready, hon?” Paul asked.

Lyra removed her clothing. “Here goes nothing. Remember: don’t touch me until I say so. I’ve never tried anything remotely like this,” she said, her voice nervous with both anticipation and worry.

“You’ll do fine, love,” Paul said. He was also nervous. He knew nothing about magic, but a lifetime of wild guesses and complete clueless explanations by human creative artists had him completely worried.

“Okay. Here goes.” She closed her eyes, and her horn began to glow with power the shade of newly sprouted leaves.

And then she exploded.

Paul freaked at first, but the motes of light surrounded him, caressed him, let him know everything was okay. He grinned; it was her, somehow. The lights flitted like a small universe of butterflies, then centered on a single spot before coalescing into a human shape, and then into a young human woman not visibly older than he.

“Lyra?” he asked, wondering if it was really his wife. The woman stood 5’6”, looking to be the average weight, with a lithe build. She had green hair with a broad white stripe down the middle; her hair cascaded down past her waist. Her hair was the same colors in other parts that had hair, he thought for a brief moment, as she opened her eyes with those familiar golden eyes.

“Did it…?” the woman spoke, his wife’s voice ringing clear. It had a softer timbre to it, probably because she didn’t have a muzzle now.

“Lyra?” he asked again.

“Paul? You look so…different,” she said, rising to her legs and then tripping while she tried to gain her balance. He moved forward to catch her.

“You look beautiful,” he smiled. “You’ve always looked beautiful to me, but…well, your human form is as beautiful as you normally are.”

She looked at him and the love in her eyes shone. “Oh, Paul….” She sighed as she leaned into his chest, feeling the warm touch of her skin against his chest, hearing his heartbeat from the side of her head instead of the top, feeling her hands hold him….

“HANDS!” She bounced back, lifting the appendages to her face, feeling them on her skin, wiggling her fingers. “I have hands!”

“Yes, you do,” Paul said, chuckling.

“No, you don’t understand: hands!” It was as though this was a breakthrough for all of ponykind. She was giddy as a schoolgirl.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Hungry.”

“Let’s get you some food, then,” he said, slipping a bathrobe around her. “You’ll probably need your strength for tonight.”

“But…. But…. Hands!” she said, as though she’d just discovered the all-important thing about being human.

In turn, he kissed her. The feeling was intense, electric, like nothing she’d ever felt before with anypony in her life. This was the big secret of humanity: their emotions were far stronger than those of ponies, and it was what drove them even as they mastered those emotions. The feeling threatened to overwhelm her when he stopped.

“Wow….” she said, giving him a smile that said volumes.

“Hands?” he asked.

“Screw the hands. Let’s get some food, and then let’s explore the other things that make humans what they are,” she said with a tone that indicated there’d be much experimentation tonight.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Phillips,” the doctor said. “They’re both healthy children.”

“Can I see them?” Lyra said, exhausted. She’d just gone through an extremely painful birth, not to mention the fact that she had twins, which was extremely rare in ponies…but not so rare for humans, of which her children were half. She was also extremely jealous of DJ, who had gotten pregnant at the same time and had an easy delivery of her son, Stuart, the week prior.

Her fur matted with sweat, she grinned like a lunatic. She looked at Paul, who had been there for the delivery. “How do they look, honey?” She heard the cries of two newborn children, and it was music to her ears.

“Here they are,” the doctor said, passing the two children to the jubilant mother. Lyra took her children in her arms and just cried for joy as she held two little pink things, softly yawning and so, so very tiny; her son and daughter. One had a shock of green hair with a white stripe, while the other, with Paul’s black hair, briefly opened her eyes, revealing Lyra’s own golden ones.

Colby and Orchid, both named after Lyra’s parents – a cheese sommelier and a florist, she’d told Paul. It was pure luck that both just happened to match human names, much to her pleasant surprise. She’d expected a battle with him over the names; human names were, despite not being tied to cutie marks, much more stringent than she expected.

“You’re special, you know that?” Lyra said to her children. “You’re the true children of love, of two people who did everything to bring you into the world.” Both children yawned again, and she looked at her husband.

“They’re as beautiful as their mother,” he said softly.

“They’re as wonderful as their father,” the unicorn replied.

“Now, Mrs. Phillips, I don’t need to remind you that your children will need checkups for the meanwhile,” the doctor said. He conferred with a colleague – a unicorn doctor brought in from Canterlot just for the delivery – and he continued. “Your children, while human in appearance, are technically chimeras – human/pony hybrids. I strongly recommend bringing them by more than the usual scheduled visits for human children. Dr. Hearthealthy and I will work out a schedule for you.”

“Thank you,” she said with a depleted but triumphant grin. “Thank you so much.”

In her new apartment in Manehattan, Bon-Bon sighed. She’d finally started over, after having been declared back to normal health. It had been a horrific time for her, having spent two years in a catatonic state. But one day, she dreamt Lyra came out of nowhere to kiss her and beg her to live again. That was impossible, of course; Lyra had her own life with her husband now, but that fantasy was enough to pull Bon-Bon away from the edge, towards the long road to normalcy. The scar she bore on her chest now, an ugly gash that the doctors could not completely fix, reminded of her of the dark times and how close she’d come. Her doctor had told her that human medicine could remove the scar with a technique called plastic surgery, but she refused. She’d keep the scar forever as a reminder of where she’d been and to never venture there again.

Her friends helped her move to a new city to start a new life: Vinyl had found her the apartment; it was cozy and inexpensive and perfect. Octavia, apologizing for all the things she’d said, paid for the furnishings for the home. But it had been Twilight who had given the best gift of all: through Pinkie, they’d gotten in touch with master chocolatier Mulia Mild and got the earth pony a job at Mulia’s confectionary. Mulia, recognizing a fellow talent that had fallen on hard times, put Bon-Bon in charge of the new store she was opening in mid-town, just a stone’s throw from Bon-Bon’s home. Bon Bon had even met an extremely cute mare the first day she’d started managing the store; Bon-Bon would have to ask her out as soon as she had the opportunity.

The earth pony sighed in contentment. This was her life now and Bon-Bon was finally at peace, finally free of her demons.

Bon-Bon had just settled down to read a new book – a fantasy novel from human Earth called The Rimefrost Sword – when there was a sudden knock on the door. “Just a moment!” she called out as she set a bookmark in place and set the book down on the coffee table. She went to the door, and found Twilight standing there, gasping for breath.

“Twilight? Are you okay? What brings you here to Manehattan?”

“Just…had to…teleport…hundreds of…miles,” Twilight said, clearly exhausted. Bon-Bon raced to the kitchen for a glass of water for her friend. One glass later and a chance to catch her breath, she said, “On the bright side, no one’s ever teleported that far. However, I don’t think I’ll want to try that again anytime soon.”

“I wish you told me you were coming,” Bon-Bon said with a smile. “I could have taken some days off from the store so we could go around town.”

“No time,” Twilight gasped. “This is an emergency. We’ve got to go to Washington. Lyra needs you now, possibly more than ever.”

Bon-Bon gently waved it off. “She doesn’t need me anymore. She has her husband now, and from what I understand, he’s perfect for her, a far better spouse than I could have ever been.” She wasn’t beating herself up over that; it was realization. Bon-Bon hadn’t been ready for marriage when she’d tied the knot with Lyra and the unicorn had suffered for it. She hoped to someday make it up to Lyra, but perhaps living a full life with a chance to finally move on was that way.

“No, you don’t understand,” Twilight said forcefully, looking at Bon-Bon, and there was worry in her eyes.

“What’s going on?” Bon-Bon said, seeing that worry and suddenly feeling a lump rise in her throat.

“It’s about Lyra’s husband,” Twilight said, sorrow coming into her voice. Bon-Bon heard that, and braced for the worst.

“He was killed in a plane crash two days ago.”

Broken Heartstrings, Finale

DJ came walking through the door of the ambassadorial home; the first thing she saw was Harper, sitting on the couch, looking over some documents. “Hello, DJ,” the older unicorn said. “Don’t mind me, just going over the various documents we’ll need for the funeral. Even after all these years, I’m still really not good with the way humans phrase documents.”

“I’ll help you with that later, after I see her,” the humanized pony said, looking at the unnaturally quiet stallion; like his younger sister, Harper was loud and boisterous and seeing him like this just underscored the tragedy. “How’s she doing?”

“Truthfully?” he asked. “When our mother passed away fifteen years ago, she was hurting. Right now? She’s destroyed. Doctor gave her a sedative to sleep, and Paul’s parents are currently watching the kids.”

“Do they even know what caused it?” DJ asked as she sorted the documents.

“Not really. Adam – that’s Paul’s best friend; you may have met him at the wedding – flew out to Bozeman to get some answers from the NTSB. Unfortunately for Lyra, as she’s a senior foreign diplomat, they’re really worried about politicizing the whole incident. Wing sent a couple of embassy staffers with Adam, but they don’t want Lyra anywhere near Montana right now, and frankly, I don’t blame them.”

“Yeah, I saw article on CNN’s website. She doesn’t need to be there at all.”

“Do me a favor? Go peek in on her. You’re probably the only one on either Earth who understands what she’s going through.”

“No offense, but I hope I’m not. I’d be a complete wreck if I ever lost Mike. But I get what you mean.” She looked a little more at Lyra’s older brother before asking, “Have you gotten any sleep?”

“No, not really. But tha—”

“Go. To. Sleep,” the younger pony commanded.

“Fine, it’s not like I do late night sessions because I’m a country musician,” Harper grumbled. “But keep an eye on her. She’s never been like this before – not when our mother died, not when Bon-Bon left her. I’m really worried.”

“I got it, don’t worry,” DJ said as the unicorn headed towards the guest room. As he closed the door, she said a soft, “Well, I hope so, at any rate,” then went upstairs. Seeing as the bedroom was closed, she knocked softly and went in.

Sitting there with her was both Vinyl and Octavia. Both looked like they’d aged a million years from this. Vinyl, who looked as though she’d been crying, went up to DJ. “Hey, thanks for coming.”

“I’m the only person in the world who would have the same problem she does, and I pray every day I don’t,” DJ responded. She walked over to the bed, and there, held in Octavia’s grasp, nearly catatonic and looking like 93 million miles of bad road, was Lyra.

DJ sat on the bed. “Lyra? I’m sorry. Paul was a wonderful person, and we’ll be poorer for his absence,” DJ said, looking at Octavia worriedly.

“She’s just been staring into space all this time,” Octavia said, voice hoarse from anguish. “We can’t get through to her.”

Lying on the bed, the sheets still had his smell. She could distantly hear someone talking to her, but it didn’t matter anymore – nothing mattered except the call of death. The last time she was like this, she thought she’d lost the love of her life – she was wrong, and now, she was learning just how very wrong her earlier melodrama had been: her Paul, her husband and the love of her life, gone; the father of her children, gone. Gone, gone, gone.

In her head, her Cartesian theatre had a gruesome show for her, repeating a tragic drama over and over again, something she could not remove her mind from.

“Ah, Ambassador Dupree, it’s such a pleasure to meet you!” Lyra said as she welcomed the newest member of the diplomatic community. “Have you settled into Bethesda yet?”

“Thank you, Madame Phillips,” the French ambassador said. “Quite so, actually. My wife loves the Embassy Row there, though from what I understand, the community in Leesburg is much larger.”

She nodded. “It is, but Bethesda is much closer to the District, so your commute will be much easier than ours. In any case, those of us in the diplomatic community always find ways to get together – in fact, the Summer Picnic should be upon us soon enough; it’s usually prepared by the Spouses’ Club.”

“Ah, a dozen foods from a dozen lands and everyone just ends up eating the hamburgers,” he chuckled. “But I think Clarise would love to assist in preparation, if that’s possible.”

“That’s wonderful! I’ll give you my husband’s cell number, then. He just took over presidency of the Spouses’ Club, and I’m sure he’d could use another set of hooves…I mean, hands,” Lyra said, correcting herself. “But enough of the small chit-chat. How may I be of servi—”

The doors to her office suddenly slammed open as Lyra’s secretary, Scented Letter, burst in. “Lyra!” she shouted. “Channel 3! Hurry!”

“Scent? What’s going on?” the unicorn asked as the earth pony rushed over to the remote control and turned on the TV.

The television showed a very somber man, standing in front of a small town. “Thanks, Brad. I’m Aaron Wheeling, coming to you live from Belgrade, Montana at the scene of the crash. Details are sketchy right now, but from what we know is that TWA Flight 307, having departed Seattle to Washington DC, has crashed in downtown Belgrade, just a few hundred yards short of Bozeman Regional Airport. Rescuers are on-scene right now, but from what we’ve been told there were no survivors onboard the plane and few have been found in the buildings impacted. The plane, a Sukhoi Superjet 100-D7, has been under investigation since last week’s crash of a similar jet in Houston, and at this time, the NTSB has ordered all 100-D7s grounded. We’ll continue to report on this tragic incident as more details come in. Back to you, Brad.”

Lyra’s mind suddenly rocketed to a conversation she’d had with Paul two weeks ago: “Yeah, the ABA wants me to give a lecture on the differences between US and Equestriani criminal law at the Annual National Conference in Seattle. Jurisprudence was nice enough to help me prep the lecture; you oughta bump that stallion’s pay up, he’s worth every bit. I’ll be out there a couple of days, nothing big. Here’s the flights – TWA Flight 518 out to Sea-Tac, and then Flight 307 back. You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

Her knees buckled without warning as she collapsed to the ground. She could feel Ambassador Dupree moving to help her, and Scent calling for the embassy’s medic, but it didn’t matter to her. This was a nightmare, right? Some stunt Discord pulled, or maybe that practical joke TV show that was currently playing on TNT. It had to be it, right? Because if she really lost Paul….

“Lyra….” A soft voice said, an all-too familiar voice. The unicorn turned her head to look in the direction of the sound.

Twilight stood there, faced etched in sorrow at seeing her old friend like this. But it was the other pony there as well, the one in a gray sweatshirt and slacks almost the same color as her coat that was the surprise. For the first time in twelve years, Lyra and Bon-Bon faced each other in the house they once shared together.

Bon-Bon saw her old flame and realized how very much things had changed. Lyra had always been the more tomboyish of the two of them, very much taking after Harper. But she looked so feminine now, so beautiful and elegant, the result of over a decade of being the ‘mare’ half of a relationship. Bon-Bon looked around and saw no more signs of her life with Lyra; instead, there were signs of Lyra and Paul, including a very odd picture of Paul with two human children and a green-and-white-haired human woman who the earth pony guessed was Lyra, having somehow used some sort of transformation magic for a reason she couldn’t comprehend.

She’d set Lyra on this path, she realized. For better or worse, for all the pain Bon-Bon had suffered and all the pain and joy Lyra had experienced, it had been Bon-Bon’s failure that had put Lyra on a path more human that she’d ever expected. Lyra had always had an affinity for the strange bipedal race, but now she’d joined Rarity’s estranged daughter just on the other side of the line separating ponykind from humanity.

Bon-Bon once knew Lyra Heartstrings, but she’d been gone for ages now, just as much a memory as the self-destructive mare Bon-Bon had once been. But Bon-Bon had never known Lyra Phillips, and wasn’t sure how that person would react as their eyes met.

Once the pair’s eyes met, none of those assembled in the room knew what was going to happen. Maybe they’d embrace and cry together. Maybe Lyra would just snap and start bucking the hell out of her former lover. Maybe she’d just completely lose it and start making out with the earth pony. None could accurately gauge what was about to occur.

But they hadn’t expected this.

Bon-Bon approached Lyra as they saw each other. “Lyra, I’m so sorry. I’ve heard your hu—”

A sudden panicked “No no nononononoo…” before Lyra suddenly shrieked, flailing in Octavia’s surprised forelegs.

Bon-Bon approached. “Ly-Ly,” she said, using the private nickname she’d once given the unicorn. “It’s me. It’s your Bonnie.”

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” Lyra screamed, shaking and hyperventilating. She forcefully tried to pull Octavia in front of her as a shield, so much so the gray earth pony’s shirt started to tear. “STAY AWAY!” The screaming was such that Harper thundered upstairs to see what the commotion was.

“But Ly-Ly,” Bon-Bon began and stopped as she looked – and gasped. Lyra was looking at her with fear and horror. Lyra wasn’t just panicking; she was terrified of Bon-Bon.

“Stay away….” The mare’s voice shrank as she curled into a ball and tried to crawl under the sheets of her bed at the same time.

“Lyra….” Bon-Bon said, reaching out to the unicorn and then withdrawing a hoof in shock. Her Ly-Ly, her former love, was deathly afraid of her.

“Hey!” DJ snarled, reacting before anyone else and getting in-between the horror-petrified unicorn and the stunned earth pony. “What is your major malfunction? What, come here to expect a pity fuck?”

Vinyl immediately stepped between the two earth ponies. “Filly,” she said to the younger one, “let me handle this. Bonnie, I think we’d better go downstairs to talk.”

“Yeah,” she said, shaken by Lyra’s reaction. “Octavia, please take care of her.”

Octavia nodded. “I will,” she said, whispering to her friend, “It’s okay, Lyra, you’re safe. I’ll protect you.”

Once they were downstairs, DJ nearly attacked Bon-Bon. “Who the fuck do you think you are, you cunt, scaring Lyra like that?”

“DJ, that’s quite enough,” Twilight interceded. “Your parents taught you better than that, I’m sure.” DJ muttered something under her breath, but a wilting glare from her aunt got her to quit.

“I don’t think any of us expected this reaction,” Vinyl said. “I know I sure as buck didn’t.”

“I was,” Harper said, sitting down by the table. “I hoped it wouldn’t happen, but it did. Bon-Bon, you were responsible for calming her down when our mother died, so a part of her learned to rely on you. Then you pulled the rug out from under her with the divorce.”

“I know,” Bon-Bon said in a self-accusatory whisper. “I regret handling it like I did.”

“What’s done is done there, and that won’t change. But that led to Paul coming into her life, and now he’s gone – and you’re back.”

Twilight, ever the scholar, put it together instantly. “And now she’s blaming Bon-Bon for all the pain in her life, like she’s some sort of harbinger of death.”

“But I would never!” Bon-Bon cried. “I didn’t even come here to try to win her back! We’re two different mares now, and it probably wouldn’t work even if I wanted it to.”

“I know,” Vinyl said, “and normally Ly would know that. But she’s so broken over losing Paul that she probably thinks you’re after the last thing in her life – her kids.”

“Speaking as the only other person with the kind of kids she has,” DJ offered, “I’d just about shit bricks if I were in Lyra’s situation.” She looked at everyone else and said, “If there were a way to bring Paul back, that’s what she needs. If what you’re saying is true and she’s already been at the gates of hell twice, this third time might just break her permanently.”

Twilight mused. “There might just be a way to bring him back.” Everyone gasped at that remark.

Vinyl and Harper looked at each other, then at Twilight. “What are you talking about, Twilight?”

“Back when I was younger than DJ, I found a forbidden spell created by Star Swirl. It let me jump back in time for about a minute – I used it foolishly to warn myself about something that never happened. But the spell does work.” Seeing the look of hope in everyone’s eyes, she said, “But there are huge caveats here, and I do mean huge. For starters, it worked on our Earth because of the huge amounts of magic there. This Earth, on the other hoof, is all but magically dead, and that’s a concern when navigating through the timespace continuum. Secondly, if we were to rescue Paul, it would require some kind of charm to bring him back – merely holding on to the pon…I mean, person in question isn’t going to cut it. Lastly, we’re talking about breaking causality here, and that’s bad.”

“Yeah, but if I recall anything about causality from school,” Harper said, “you’d already done that the moment you made contact with yourself.”

“I got very lucky: I created a loop the moment I touched myself and that stabilized everything, but I might not in truth be the same Twilight that departed with that spell and might have instead been pulled from an alternate reality where I tried the same exact spell. I mean, to me, everything seems the same, and I feel like I’m myself, but I can never be 100% sure.” There was a sudden hitch in her voice as she said, “I might have lost everything I loved and come to a world where everything’s similar, but not the exact same.”

“Well, we like ya anyway,” Vinyl said with a grin, “and if it’s similar, it’s you regardless. You’re you, and that’s all you can be.”

“That’s…rather deep, Vinyl.”

“Tell me about it. Was songwriting last month with Laura Darlington and Andreya Triana. Having them sing on my next album.” She pulled a notebook out of thin air due to her magic. “I have all the lyrics here – I can sing them if you’d like.”

“Ah, no, not necessary,” Twilight said with a soft smile. “But to continue, to prevent breaking causality, the individual in question has to switch places with Paul.”

“You mean they’ll have to die in his place, is what you’re saying,” Harper said, as the truth sank in and everyone became quiet.

“Well, that settles it. Twilight, let’s get started,” Bon-Bon said, her tone firm.

“Uh, Bonnie, are you—”

“Yes,” she said in a soft voice, cutting Twilight off. “I failed Lyra once, and while it turned out great for her, I’ve now realized just how unimportant I am in the grand scheme of things.”

“Don’t you dare say that,” Octavia intoned as she came downstairs. She’d borrowed one of Lyra’s shirts to replace the ripped one and she heard everything. Walking over to embrace the mare, she said, “You’re important to us, Bonnie. You’re our friend.”

“Tavi’s right – you shouldn’t think of yourself as somepony to just be tossed in the trash,” Vinyl added. “How’s Ly doing?”

“I called the doctor, he said it was okay to give her another sedative, so she’s finally sleeping. But she’s falling apart, Vinyl – our sister is falling apart.” Octavia began to tear and turned to cry into Vinyl’s shoulder.

“And that’s why I have to go,” Bon-Bon said, her voice finding its strength. “I realize you all care, but Lyra’s one of the most important ponies doing one of the hardest jobs ever, so I was told once,” she said as she gave Vinyl a smile at the memory of her words. “I couldn’t be there for her, and she found someone who could. And now she lost him and she needs him back. Their children need him back. And Equestria needs her back and the only way to do that is for him to come back.

“I am but one mare that the world won’t miss – that the world won’t miss,” she repeated. “Twilight, let me do this one last thing for her. I once promised to be there in better times and worse times, in wealth and poverty, in health and illness. Let me keep that vow I made to her.”

“Okay,” she said resignedly. “Let me get started; the spell only allows for a very defined window.”

“Okay, it’s ready,” Sweetie Belle said as she handed the necklace over to Twilight. “And for the record, Twi? I’m heavily against this. If I didn’t trust you so implicitly, I’d be out that door as fast as my four hooves could carry me, you know that?”

“I know,” Twilight said with a nod. “But this wasn’t my decision to make.” Twilight took the necklace and attached the massive black obsidian jewel to the front. The thing looked gaudy, like the ceremonial regalia that the three princesses all hated wearing during formal events, or as Twilight once read about, a human poet and musician who jauntily wore oversize things like this and took the nom de plume of “Flavor Flav.” In any case, the thing was gaudy, enough so that a fashionista like Rarity or Hoity Toity would have declared it an utter glamour disaster. Which was fine, it was built for function, not looks.

“Well, unless you have a problem with it, I’m going to take a few days off. Pip’s been itching for me to take some downtime,” she said with a loving smile. “I think he’s going to propose.”

“Congratulations!” Twilight said, nuzzling the younger unicorn. “Have you told Rarity yet?”

“When I get around to it,” Sweetie Belle said absently.

“Go ahead and get going, and I’ll see you in a few days,” Twilight said.

Sweetie Belle headed for the doors, pausing long enough to say, “And give a hug to DJ for me if you see her!” before leaving.

Twilight watched bittersweetly as the white unicorn mare departed. She should have shared her secret with Rarity first, but now the chances of that happening were nil. The battle thirteen years ago had caused a terminal break between the two and while they were still civil to each other, the magic of sisterhood between them was now gone; Sweetie Belle had instead transferred that affection to her mentor, making Twilight the older sister figure in Sweetie Belle’s adulthood that Rarity should have been.

It wasn’t entirely Rarity’s fault; the younger mage unicorn was just as much to blame as her sister, and the bickering between Sweetie Belle and Rarity’s daughter Minty hadn’t helped much either. But Twilight had been there when Sweetie had discovered her special talent had been magic instead of singing as everyone had suspected; and through the years, the younger pony had taken over Spike’s position as her assistant, even so far as to stay on when Twilight had pronounced Sweetie to be a fully-trained mage in her own right, capable of taking her own apprentice. And yet she stayed, and there was only one reason that made sense: that she was filling the doting younger sibling spot in Twilight’s life that the oversize dragon couldn’t anymore, a spot Sweetie was well-familiar with from year younger years staying with Rarity.

But unlike Twilight, Sweetie couldn’t put off her feelings forever; she and Pip had an on/off romance for most of their adult lives, and now it was finally coming to fruition. But this should have been something that Sweetie Belle told Rarity first, not cryptically indicating to the purple mare that she had no interest in telling her sister and that Rarity would probably find out from Twilight, thus creating another crack in their continually patched-broken-patched friendship over the years.

But none of that was important right now. Putting the necklace in her saddlebags, Twilight went upstairs to slip into some clothing for the trip to human-Earth.

“Remember, once you take off the necklace, you only have ten seconds to slip it around Paul’s neck before it starts the return sequence,” Twilight said.

“Got it,” Bon-Bon said, putting it on herself. She looked at everyone present, those that had showed up to say their goodbyes. “Well, I guess this is goodbye, then.”

“We’ll miss you,” Twilight said, embracing the earth pony. There was no talk of trying to convince her otherwise; the last few days had ensured this was Bon-Bon’s decision.

“You’re braver than I’ll ever be, Bonnie,” Vinyl said, adding to the embrace.

“Yes, far braver than I could ever be,” Octavia murmured as she embraced her friend. “I wish we had more time so I could make it up to you.”

“Take care of Lyra for me; that’s more than enough, you three,” she said to the trio as she looked at DJ.

“Look, I….” the humanized pony started.

“I forgive you,” Bon-Bon said. “Just…if you want to make amends, watch over Colby and Orchid. They’re in the same situation as your son, so they’ll need everyone to watch over them.”

“Absolutely,” DJ promised. “So,” she said to the rest, “so now what?”

“She has one last person she has to say goodbye to, and that’s best if she did it alone.”

Bon-Bon walked up the stairs one last time, the weight of the necklace jangling with each step, as if indicating the severity of the situation she was about to undertake. As she reached the top of the stairs, she saw Harper. “I would trade places in a heartbeat with you, if you’d let me,” he said.

“No, Harper. She needs her B3F2,” Bon-Bon said with a smile. “This is my weight to bear.”

“She’s asleep. Go to her,” he said, as he walked down stairs.

Bon-Bon walked into the room, noticing the figure asleep on the bed. She looked so impossibly beautiful and fragile, and for a moment, she looked so much more human than pony. Maybe that was always meant to be Lyra’s fate.

Maybe if I’d buckled down more, Bon-Bon thought to herself as she approached the bed. But no, in the end she was never meant to be mine. We were just two, passing on the road to eternity, only keeping in step together for a short while. But oh, what a time that was.

Sitting on the bed, she stroked Lyra’s mane, saw that Lyra had cried herself to sleep once more. “Well, this is it, Ly-Ly. In a few minutes, you’ll be reunited with your husband, and I will be part of the dustbin of history. I wish we’d had more time together, more time for me to make amends for how much I hurt you and tell you how proud I am that you kept moving on.

“So when he’s back, love him like I should have loved you. Love your children. Live your life for them, Lyra,” she said, and a memory came to mind, she was sure that it was just a fantasy and not truly Lyra, but maybe miracles were more common than hope. “Live it for me,” she said, giving her old flame one last final kiss that seemed to last forever.

Bon-Bon stood up and walked away from Lyra, then took the obsidian gem in her hands. Focusing on it, she spoke the words that Twilight said would start the spell. “Tempus frangit!”

Bon-Bon exploded in a shower of silver sparks and blue jags of light, and a couple of seconds later, Lyra was alone in the room once more.

Bon-Bon appeared in the jet, and all was chaos. She didn’t have time to react, however, as gravity and inertia kicked in and she was slammed into an empty seat. Wincing from the pain, she looked around and found Paul, of all places, seated next to her. His eyes were closed and he was praying, knowing that he wouldn’t survive this.

She had to act fast. “PAUL!” she screamed as she ripped the necklace off her and slammed it round his neck.
Paul looked to his side, felt something placed on him like a lei. He saw Bon-Bon in what had been an empty seat just a second ago, and she was looking at him with a teary-eyed smile.

“Love her for me, Paul,” Bon-Bon said. “Love her like I couldn’t.”

Paul was about to respond when he suddenly disappeared. Bon-Bon smiled, triumphant in her desire. “I’ve done it, Ly-Ly,” she said to herself as she cried tears of joy. “I finally kept my promise to y—”

Nothing more was said by Bon-Bon as TWA Flight 307 crashed into the ground at the intersection of Broadway and Main, plowing through the brick buildings as if they were paper. The plane skidded for two more blocks, destroying everything in its before coming to a stop at Broadway and Central, turning into a deadly blossom of flame and twisted metal, the ignited gas turning everything for a square block into an inferno that was a funeral for hundreds of innocent people – and one victorious time-traveling pony.

“No, my little pony, you’re not allowed to break the timestream like that.”

Bon-Bon woke up in a room of white…or perhaps a tunnel. She felt great; better than she ever had in her life. The room had no corners, no edges, and no indicator that it even had an end, nothing more than a pure white that reminder of Princess Celestia.

“That was very brave of you. Very foolish, but extremely brave, nonetheless,” the voice said, coming from all directions and no directions at once. “Very few individuals would give their lives for their loved ones. Fewer still would give it for ones they had no obligations to.”

Bon-Bon got to her feet, trying to find the source of the voice. “But I did have obligations to her. I failed those obligations once, and I couldn’t bear to see her the way she was.”

“Very commendable of you, but you did not. You walked away from that marriage and ended your obligations.”

“No. Just because I made a mistake does not mean Lyra has to suffer for it,” Bon-Bon said. “I made her suffer for so long, and now I can make it right.” She fell silent in order to compose her next thoughts and said, “I fulfilled my vow to her, and I will go to the Great Pasture armed with that knowledge.”

“I’m sure you think so, young Bon-Bon,” the voice said. Bon-Bon wondered what she meant by that, as she was approaching her late fifties. As if expecting that, the voice said, “Everyone is young to me, whether they know it or not. So…is this what you truly desire? To allow a human to remain in your stead, ever with your true love? This could be a chance to win her heart back.”

“No. She was never mine. I had never truly earned her love, not truly worthy of it, because I was a coward. Paul has been there in every way I could never be. She might be my true love, but he is hers. Human or not, they were meant to be together.”

“I…see. Once again, very brave of you. Many have failed this final test and fewer still have made the decision so effortlessly as you have. However, I must deny you your wish. You cannot be allowed to change the timestream.”

“No! Please, let me take Paul’s place!” Bon-Bon said, frantic. “She needs him!”

There was a soft laugh, not cruel but one of joy. “No, you misunderstand, my little pony. You are not allowed to change the timestream. But one such as I, well, I have a little more leeway.”

Bon-Bon couldn’t reconcile that. “Who are you?” she asked.

A figure seemed to walk into the space where Bon-Bon was, as if the endless white was fog. The figure was an alicorn, larger than Celestia by far, as large as an elephant. The unicorn had a coat of pristine white, moreso than the princess as it were purity itself. Her head and tail were the color of carmine, as if the very blood of life adorned her body. On her flank was a glowing cutie mark, a quill and ink pen. The alicorn looked at Bon-Bon with kind eyes, and in those eyes the earth pony could see eternity reflected in them.

“I’m just a mother,” the alicorn said with a joyful smile, “watching her daughters from afar and hoping our family will be made whole once more someday. But until then, I remain just a muse.”

And then everything went black.

“Ah, Ambassador Dupree, it’s such a pleasure to meet you!” Lyra said as she welcomed the newest member of the diplomatic community. “Have you settled into Bethesda yet?”

“Thank you, Madame Phillips,” the French ambassador said. “Quite so, actually. My wife loves the Embassy Row there, though from what I understand, the community in Leesburg is much larger.”

“Ah, a dozen foods from a dozen lands and everyone just ends up eating the hamburgers,” he chuckled. “But I think Clarise would love to assist in preparation, if that’s possible.”

The doors to her office suddenly slammed open as Lyra’s secretary, Scented Letter, burst in. “Lyra!” she shouted. “Channel 3! Hurry!”

“Scent? What’s going on?” the unicorn asked as the earth pony rushed over to the remote control and turned on the TV.

The television showed a smiling man, standing in front of a small town. “Thanks, Brad. I’m Aaron Wheeling, coming to you live from what seems to be nothing short of a miracle. TWA Flight 307, having departed Seattle for Washington DC has made a crash landing in downtown Belgrade, Montana just a few hundred yards short of Bozeman Regional Airport. According to airport authorities, the plane, a Sukhoi Superjet 100-D7 reported losing all power in mid-flight, but thanks to the incredible skills of the pilot and co-pilot, the plane made a safe belly landing. Though the plane and several buildings in town have been destroyed, authorities are cheering over the fact that there are no fatalities and only minor injuries. The NTSB, concerned with this incident after last week’s crash of a similar jet in Houston, has ordered all 100-D7s grounded. We’ll continue to report on what they’re calling the Miracle in Belgrade as more details come in. Back to you, Brad.”

Lyra suddenly lost her footing. Paul had been aboard that flight…and she’d come so very close to losing him. Was he okay? Was he one of the injured, and if so, how badly?

Dupree was suddenly at her side. “Are you okay, Madame Ambassador?”

Tears of joy and worry started to form in her eyes. “Yes. I am now,” she said as she heard her smartphone go off, the ringtone exclusively set for when her husband called. “I’m perfectly fine,” she said, as she got back to her hindhooves and went to answer her phone.

“So…” the unicorn said nervously, “would you like to go out on a date?”

Bon-Bon stood at the counter of her chocolate shop, the one she managed for Mulia Mild in mid-town Manehattan. She suddenly wondered how she’d gotten there; hadn’t she been dead just a second ago? She was just ecstatic at the realization of what this meant, and then she looked forward at the pony at the counter.

She was a unicorn, like Lyra, but that’s where the similarities ended. If anything, she looked superficially more like Twilight, with a similar hairstyle and similar facial features. But the unicorn was aqua in color, with a mane and tail of dark turquoise, highlighted by a blazing stripe of orange in both mane and tail. She looked nervous, pensive, as if she’d just taken the chance of her life by asking Bon-Bon that question.

Bon-Bon didn’t know why, but she just giggled like a schoolfilly and grinned. “Sure.”

“Okay!” the unicorn chirped. “I’ll meet you here at 8!” and with that, skipped out of the store, practically bouncing with a gait not unlike Pinkie Pie.

“Wow, boss,” Bon-Bon’s coworker, a stallion named Chocolate Mousse, said. “She’s a real cutie. Hey, do me a favor and find out if she’s got a sister, okay?”

Bon-Bon laughed. “Absolutely, Choc. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to use the little filly’s room.” Before he could answer, she rushed to the restroom, locking the door.

She looked in the mirror to make sure she was herself, feeling her face to make sure. Impossibly, she was herself, she was in the store and she was somehow alive.

Her name’s Waterfire, a familiar voice sounded by her ear. She’s a mage by trade, and she’s had her eye on you since the first day you moved to town.

Bon-Bon had never noticed her before. How did that happen?

Because sometimes you have to lose something before you notice it, the alicorn’s voice whispered. And speaking of which, one reward done for a faithful promise kept, you’ll see in just a moment. Oh, and I have a favor to ask before I go. The alicorn whispered it to Bon-Bon and though she didn’t seem as if she’d been in the room, Bon-Bon knew the moment when she departed. Farewell, Bon-Bon and always smile. You, of all ponies, have earned it.

As bid, the earth pony looked down and noticed her scar was gone, healed and no remainder left. She was now finally, truly and completely free.

There was a knock on the door. “Hate to rush ya, boss, but we’ve got a line building out here and I could use a little help!”

“Sure thing, Choc!” she called back with a laugh. “Be right there!”

“Wow, that’s just incredible,” Lyra said to Bon-Bon. “Congratulations!”

“Thanks,” Bon-Bon said, draining her beer stein; she’d never really liked the drink but it was growing on her. “Both at the same time? It’s paradise.”

Both sat in the Döner Bistro, finally a chance to talk after thirteen years of trials and tribulations. Waterfire and Bon-Bon had gone to Leesburg for a weekend a year after Paul’s crash, with some very important news. The reason for the visit was the double whammy that Bon-Bon had received during the week. The first was that Mulia had decided to retire from the business; she was getting old, she said, and it was time for the other pursuits in her life to take precedence. The chocolatier had sold Bon-Bon the whole business for a ridiculously low price and a share of the profits, and Mildbon’s, as Bon-Bon had renamed the chain of stores, was doing incredible business; indeed, the first human-Earth branch of the chain had opened up right next door to the Döner.

But the other thing was that after a whirlwind romance of a year, Waterfire and Bon-Bon decided they were going to tie the knot. Waterfire had been everything Bon-Bon had wanted in a mate, moreso than Lyra had been, she now realized. When she told that to her former lover, Lyra had pretended to be hurt for all of a second before congratulating the earth pony on finally finding happiness.

At the moment, Waterfire stayed behind with Paul and the kids in order to let the two former lovers work out any last issues between them, as there were likely things unspoken between the two that needed to be cleared.

“So, Waifu and I are deciding where we should take our honeymoon, but we thought we’d ask you and Paul if you had any suggestions,” Bon-Bon said.

“‘Waifu’? You call your fiancée ‘Waifu’?”

“Well, she’s the daughter of the Equestriani ambassador to Inari, and that’s what the foxes nicknamed her in their language,” Bon-Bon explained. “Something wrong with that?”

Lyra laughed. “You have no idea what waifu means here on human-Earth, do you?”

“No. Should I be worried?”

In response, Lyra pulled out her phone, went to the internet and brought up the definition on an online dictionary. “Here – look for yourself,” as Bon-Bon read the screen.

“Oh.” Bon-Bon blushed. “Well, I am a bit obsessive when it comes to her, admittedly. She’s, uh….” A wicked smile flitted on the earth pony’s face. “She’s great in bed, I’ll admit.”

“Better than me?” Lyra said and instantly regretted those words coming out of her mouth.

“Well, I’ll just have to compare notes with Paul sometime, is that all right by you?” Bon-Bon said impishly and drained her glass. “Billy! Can you get me another Warsteiner?” The bartender nodded.

“But seriously. You’re happy now, and I’m glad for you, Bon-Bon,” the unicorn said.

“Probably because this was the way it was meant to be. No, don’t look at me like that, it’s the truth and you know it. I wasn’t ready for marriage when we got together and you ultimately suffered because of it, and I spent a decade in the wilds before I realized it. Even if this Earth hadn’t been discovered and you hadn’t found Paul, we would have ended up in divorce anyway,” Bon-Bon admitted. “Now, I’ll admit, I’m still very much in love with you and that won’t ever change.”

“I love you as well, and I don’t intend to ever stop, Bon-Bon,” Lyra answered.

“But we belong with others. We always have. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.” Bon-Bon realized what she said, and laughed softly. “I guess this is the real break up, then.”

“Ah, but we’ll always have Paris,” Lyra replied. When Bon-Bon looked at her strangely, she said, “It’s apparently something humans say when they break up.”

Bon-Bon took up her glass. “To Paris, then.” Lyra nodded and their steins clinked. After a few seconds, Bon-Bon asked, “So, I’m guessing Paul and Wai…Waterfire will be joining us for dinner here then?”

“Actually, I made reservations at the Greentree a block away; it’s a more kid-friendly restaurant for my children. But Paul knows I like to sit here on Saturdays occasionally and watch the games. Oh! And speaking of which, looks like Liverpool’s playing Arsenal today. Should be good, Arsenal’s got that hotshot Brazilian striker on their team now.” The two friends sat there, as one excitedly explained the game on the TV and the other one good-naturedly tried to keep up with something she wasn’t really interested in.

Dear Princess Celestia,

I don’t know if you’re still accepting friendship reports, but as one of your subjects, Twilight felt that I should fill one out for you.

Thirteen years ago I walked out on my mate in cowardice, because I was too afraid to be there for her when she needed me. She recovered from that, I didn’t. I took all those years before I had the chance to make it up to her and finally found true love, a mature love that the younger me could never have conceived.

Lyra’s husband told me that as humans see it, love is, to quote him, “a very human thing.” I think I know what he meant by that: love is a power that we don’t really understand and probably never will as a species, just as humans don’t truly comprehend it either. And yet it is a part of them just as it is a part of us.

Lyra suffered because of our love. Lyra found a new life because of her love. I went mad and tried to kill myself for that same love. And now, because of that love, I have a wonderful fiancée and a great friendship with the same mare I once selfishly betrayed. On the human end, Paul suffered because of love when his fiancée died. Paul and Lyra used each other in a parody of it, then finally found its true form and have a life together because of it. And most importantly, in the name of love I did something that would not be believed and I cannot explain here, both because it happened – and yet it didn’t.

Love doesn’t make sense, but maybe that’s the point. Love isn’t meant to be comprehended – it just is. And what it is, is the feeling that lies at the center of our reality, the humans’, and maybe so many, many more.

Your devoted subject,
Bon-Bon

PS – your mother told me to let you and Princess Luna know that she misses you both.

The Busker

It was a decent enough gig: play the summer in Equestria, that fantastical land that had just been announced about two years ago; a whole new world of non-humans who had apparently built a culture similar to mankind. It would be his last year of freedom, he knew, so the decision was easy.

So off he went to New York with dozens of others like him, all of them desiring that glance at that incredible new world, for dozens of reasons. His? He just wanted that last taste of freedom to do what he wanted to while he still could. Tomorrow would be drudgery and depression; here now was the sun in all its glory even as it faded and it was something he couldn’t deny.

The group met in the Equestria Mission to the UN, a small office in one of the Twin Towers. There had been a plot to destroy them back in 2001 but thankfully a combined team of Federal agents in the US and police from other countries managed to tear apart a small terrorist group named Al-Qaeda. It had been their “bid for the big time,” so the President at the time had said, and now that they had been soundly defeated, the remnants of that group had slunk back into the shadows. He remembered it well: after meeting with the President, a senior Saudi general by the name of Bin Laden had told the world, “No sensible soul will ever stand for the darkness of terrorism. The world may have its legitimate issues, but bloodshed is the last option, not the first method.”

In any case, thousands of people from around the world had applied for the hundred slots available and he hoped that each day his name would be amongst those selected for the trip. Sure enough, each day it was, and a glimmer of joy appeared in his eyes. Finally, the day of the final hundred came, and lo and behold, there he was amongst them.

“Wow, and I thought there were others so much better than I,” he admitted.

“Yes,” a pegasus that had been in charge of the final selection process had said, “there were better from a technical standpoint, to be honest. But you showed the sort of honest humanity that we’re looking for in this mission. We want to show the best of your people to ours, and you, sir, fit the bill. Plus, there was your secret weapon – nice touch.”

“Secret weapon?” he asked.

“Yes – Ambassador Apple is a huge fan of Fleet Foxes. She’s been a total fan since she heard them when we first arrived on human-Earth and I think that was the deciding factor,” the pegasus said with a grin.

And so Robin Skyler Kirkland, 25 years of age, was selected as part of the Human Ambassador program to Equestria for the summer of 2029.

Robin arrived in Equestria the first day after graduating from his final year at business school. He was already marking time until his freedom was over, and from the first moment he stepped through the portal in the UN mission and crossed over into the Foreign Ministry building in the capital of Canterlot, he knew his time was ticking down. Time flowed the same here – literally the same here; Canterlot’s location and space on this Earth wasn’t far from the eastern seaboard on his own – and each second slipping by was another reminder of the cage that held him in the end.

As he walked into the main hall, he looked around; the place was magnificent in a way that made Buckingham Palace in the UK, which he’d toured as a child, look positively dowdy in comparison. The place also had a solemn, sacred feel, as if he were in St. Peter’s Basilica. From the opulent carpets and drapes to the veined marble walls, from the priceless antiques to the tastefully arranged plants and flowers, to the guards, all decked out as Roman legionnaires in outfits of silver and gold, this place spoke to an opulence few humans could comprehend.

“This place is just incredible, isn’t it?” he spoke aloud, his thoughts suddenly given voice.

“Oh, I dunno, humankind has come up with things of marvelous and beauteous equal, if you ask me,” a voice said to his side. “The Louvre, the Vatican, the Empire State Building…Disneyland.” There was an impish catch at the end of those words and Robin turned to face the speaker. The speaker in question was a beautiful blonde woman his age. She wore a white t-shirt, Capri pants and slip-on shoes. A guitar was strapped on her back and she had a pleasant smile on her face.

“Well, I’m not sure they’d include Disneyland with the Eight Wonders of the world, miss…?” he fished for a name.

“Skye. Skye Hanover,” the woman said, with an earnest smile. And this is my sister, Cyndi,” she said, hooking a thumb behind her. Behind her stood a slightly younger woman, who looked to be Skye’s opposite. Glistening raven-black hair and deep blue eyes framed a beautiful face; the woman wore a soft gray blouse and a long blue skirt.

“Um, hi,” Cyndi said, clearly not much of a talker. “And you are?”

“Robin. Robin Kirkland,” he said with a smile. “You know, Skye, I think I swear I’ve seen you before…wait, don’t tell me…Carmel, am I right? Carmel by the Sea, August last year. You were playing guitar by the carousel.”

“Good memory,” she replied, “and now I remember you. I recall seeing you a couple of weeks before…San Francisco…the Embarcadero, right?”

He laughed. “Small world when it comes to buskers, I guess. So, what got you interested in the program, Skye?”

“My sister, actually. I’ve always enjoyed things like this, but my sister wanted to try it for the first time – she has an incredible voice, you should hear it sometime. But as to the program itself, why would anyone miss an opportunity to experience new sights and sounds in a situation such as this? And what brings you here?”

“Freedom,” he said with a satisfied sigh. “The chance to give and receive it.”

“Funny, these…ponies, is it? They don’t seem like they’re in bondage,” Cyndi said with the barest hint of a smile.

“Perhaps not, but you’re confusing liberty with freedom. The beings here are obviously not slaves – no slaves could create this culture. But being free? That feeling about leaving your life behind and traveling on the open road with no end, that feeling you get when you sit in a pasture and there is nothing to do, as you planned? That feeling that you’re not bound to the physics of coffee and rush hour? That is freedom and that, regardless of Earth and regardless of species, we probably have too little.”

“Perhaps you’re right in that sir,” Cyndi said with a playful curtsey even as she favored him with a smile.

“Okay, looks like they’re starting now,” Skye said to the other two as the attendants started to fill into the small room.

The humans filed into an opulent room. As they took their seats, Robin found himself seated right next to the two women, as well as a few other fellow buskers he’d known from his many summers of travel: Joao, a Brazilian-born juggler; Esteban, a well-traveled Spaniard who played a Spanish guitar with incredible skill; and Kumiko, a young woman from Hawaii who often performed tricks of skill and daring with a samurai sword. There were many others that were there, and for a moment, it seemed like a kinder, gentler version of half the displays at a Burning Man festival.

As they sat, one of the beings of this world walked to the podium. She was a unicorn with a mane the shade of amethyst and beautiful blue eyes; he’d once dated a girl with eyes the same shade of blue and it always caught his attention. The unicorn stood before something absolutely amazing: a soft pink alicorn, sitting on a throne before them, looking as serene as a Buddha and exuding calm and class, enough so that the murmurs in the crowd died down.

“Greetings,” the unicorn at the lectern stated. “My name is Rarity, and I am the Minister of Arts and Sciences for the Principality of Equestria. Behind me is her highness, the Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, though Princess Cadance will suffice. The reason you are all here is because of a program undertaken by my Ministry; the United States Smithsonian Institution; the United Kingdom Ministry of Media and Sport; and the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization. The reason these organizations have bonded together to form the “Friendship is Magic” Program – FiMPro for short – is because of the events of two years ago that occurred when our realities were introduced. The events of those years have left mistrust between the nations of human-Earth and the various nations on what humans refer to as Alter-Earth.” The unicorn paused for a long time as she seemed to be fighting something, something personal.

“Two years ago?” Cyndi whispered to Robin, even as Skye had a sympathetic look in her eyes for the unicorn. “Can you explain that?”

“Sure, though I don’t know how you managed to miss that since that was just about everything the news talked about that summer. There was an alien girl who grew up on our world, supposedly originally from this one, abandoned by her family. She was raised as a person like us, but then two years ago her people – these ponies – found our reality and demanded her back. Her adoptive parents fought them in court – here in Equestria, of all places – and apparently won the case, as far as the media said. Seemed a bit short for a custody case – those tend to run forever since custody battles tend to be brutal – but it went from mid-June to late August of ’27.”

“Ah,” Cyndi said. “Skye and I had some problems in our family that year so…we sorta had more important things on our mind than what’s on the news, y’know?”

“Oh, I can hear you on that. But what kind of family doesn’t have problems?”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

Meanwhile, the unicorn looked as though what she was struggling through was too much, so the alicorn descended from the throne, whispered in Rarity’s ear and the unicorn walked out as in defeat. The alicorn waited until Rarity had completely left before continuing. “Fillies and gen…excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, she is the reason FiMPro exists. Ponies like Rarity have an intense mistrust of humanity after the events of two years ago, an event we on this Earth refer to as the War of the Elements.

“The member governments of FiMPro believe that had ponies been on Earth and humans in Equestria before the events, we would all find that we’re not that different as various people. We eat, we sleep, we love, we live. We love music, reading, and all the various pursuits in life. If humans and ponies understood that prior to the trial two years ago, we would not have had such a rough time between our peoples. There would not have been riots in Manehattan or massive protests in Washington. There wouldn’t have been mass threats against humans in Fillydelphia or rallies for war in New York. We would have understood each other a little better, and we would have realized that this was a conflict between two families for a child than an excuse for near civil war amongst my people and calls for invasion on yours.

“FiMPro hopes to achieve that. You hundred will be sent to the various cities around the globe – Manehattan, Ponyville, Drake City, Quaggaton, Gryphondor, and others – to put your species’ best feet forward. In turn, hundreds of ponies have been carefully selected to do the same in your world – Washington, London, Moscow, Sydney and the like. It is hoped that dragons, zebras and the other races of this Earth will also join the program, so we can find out that despite how different we may seem, in the end we’re not different in the least.

“Now, I’m sure you have questions, so, please, feel free to ask them.” A person from the back raised his hand, and Cadance pointed at him. “Please, name, home location, occupation and question.”

The man stood up. “Merritt Jenkins, Hobart, Australia. Firedancer by trade. My question: are you single?” Both the crowd and Cadance laughed; it was clearly an icebreaker question and nothing more.

“Sorry, but you’re a little too late for that one,” Cadance said saucily. “Very much married. Next question?”

“Pedro De La Cruz, Oaxaca, Mexico. Mariachi singer and guitarist. My understanding is that Equestria is led by two princesses other than yourself; and if so, are there any lese majeste laws we should worry about?”

“I’m glad you asked that, sir. Her majesty Princess Celestia, as well as her sister Princess Luna are away on other business at the moment, and I am filling in their stead; I hope that they will return by the end of the program so that you will meet them. As for lese majeste laws, we don’t have them. We feel it’s important for the commons to speak out if necessary. That being said, I can assure you I am not having an affair with a minotaur, despite what the Canterlot Times-Herald says,” she joked with a smile, and the crowd warmed up to her.

“Oh, she’s good,” Robin said with a grin.

“Beg pardon?” Skye asked.

“Well, politicians throughout the world tend to be, to quote Catcher in the Rye, nothing but a bunch of phonies. But this Princess Cadance seems to be very real and genuine.” He brushed the hair out of his eyes as he turned to look at her. “If it’s an act – and I’m getting the feeling it’s not – it’s a damn good one.”

“I get that feeling as well,” Cyndi responded. “Maybe that’s another thing that makes us all the same: politicos who are honest are extremely rare.”

“Sadly, I think you’re right,” he said as he raised his hand.

“Yes, you sir,” Cadance pointed to Robin.

He stood. “Robin Kirkland, Seattle, US. Guitarist and singer. My question is: do you have a plan as to how we’ll be touring?”

“I’m glad you asked that, Mr. Kirkland. The plan is to optimally put you in groups of two or three. Some of you, like Mr. De La Cruz’ mariachi group already come pre-packaged, but others might find the best group to work together, and I’m sure there’s a few of you who likely work best solo. We’ll leave that to you as to how you’ll best distribute yourselves.”

The princess took a few more questions before breaking everything up and inviting everyone to stay for the after-meeting refreshments. Robin enjoyed a few, talking to several of his friends and making a few new ones; there was one particular cute girl, a mask-opera performer from China, who he thought was particularly alluring.

“There you are!” a voice called out and he noticed both Skye and Cyndi walking towards him.

“You were looking for me? I’m charmed,” he said with a smile.

“It’s because you’re so charming,” Skye said affably while Cyndi just blushed.

“So what can I do for such wonderful ladies as you?” he asked.

“Well….” she started.

“Do you mind if we travel with you?” Cyndi suddenly piped up. “Some of these others…they make me nervous. Like that Spaniard, for example.”

“You have nothing to fear from Esteban, I assure you,” Robin said with a smile. “While he seems the ladies’ man, it’s not ladies he’s after. Now, Rheinhold, the Austrian cellist there,” he said, “he is one to watch out for if you’re one for keeping your virtue.”

“You seem quite familiar with many of them.”

“I’ve been busking for many a summer now,” he said with a sad smile, “and I know so many of these folks, both the good and the bad. Fortunately, none of the bad are here.”

“Seems all the more reason we should stick with you,” Skye replied.

“Well, the thought had crossed my mind,” he admitted. “Besides, from what you said earlier, your sister has a lovely voice, and I would cherish the chance to hear it.” At that, Cyndi blushed even more than the last, and Skye laughed, placing a hand on her sister’s shoulder for comfort.

And so it was settled. The three went up to the organizer, a dragon named Spike, and he marked the trio down together, though he looked at both women and said, “For some reason, you two seem familiar. I can’t put my claw on it, though.”

“Maybe we just remind you of some female dragons whose hearts you charmed?” Cyndi replied.

The dragon laughed, a deep bassy chortle. “I wish – don’t know many of my kind, since I was raised by a pony. But, hey, those are the breaks. Anyway, you three have a wonderful time here on our Earth, okay?”

The next day, itinerary in hand, they were on a train to Ponyville. The three sat there, just chatting, ignoring the stares they got from all the ponies around them – they’d been informed that this was going to happen, and so they were well prepared for such.

“So, my primary influence is Fleet Foxes,” Robin said, “though I have a little Blitzen Trapper, Great Lake Swimmers and The Sea and Cake in there, too. From the classic stuff, CSNY, obviously, plus some Dylan, Tom Petty and Yes. You guys?”

“Oh, a little bit of everything here and there,” Skye replied. “Mainly Death Cab for Cutie and Iron & Wine, some Sufjan Stevens, occasionally some Davendra Barnhart.”

“As for me, a lot of everything,” Cyndi replied. “My tastes in music run to the eclectic.”

As they were talking, dozens of ponies came walking up to them, disgusted looks and angry glances in their eyes. There were murmurs and whispers of “foal stealers”, “family destroyers”, and “warmongers.” There were a few that gave the would-be provocateurs sad and disapproving glances of their own, but no one really came up to step up defense for the three humans.

“Warmongers?” Robin wondered at that last one.

Cyndi shook her head. “The day we left, I got up early and I just happened to run into Princess Luna the morning before she departed Canterlot. It was a nice conversation; she’s a real pleasant person to talk to. Anyway, while on human-Earth there were calls to break off relations with Alter-Earth and declare war, over on this side the custody battle almost did start a civil war – apparently Princess Cadance wasn’t exaggerating. Ponydom blames humans for that, which is why they call it the War of the Elements.”

“Yeah, makes me wonder what the Elements are,” he said.

“Maybe ‘the elements’ involved in the battle, i.e. the plaintiffs and defendants?” she replied.

“You know, that sounds both odd…and plausible,” he replied in turn. “Well, time to start doing what we’re getting paid for: making peace. Skye, pass me my guitar, if you would.” She did as requested, and after quickly getting comfortable with the seats, he started playing:

“In that dream I'm as old as the mountains
Still is starlight reflected in fountains
Children grown on the edge of the ocean
Kept like jewelry, kept with devotion
In that dream moving slow through the morning”

It worked. Between Robin’s calming voice and fingers on his guitar, he had the ponies’ rapt attention – the rabble-rousers included. He continued to sing along, and as he switched from one song to the next, he briefly stole a glance. Skye had picked up her guitar and had joined in, improvising in bits and pieces for accompaniment. Cyndi, on the other hand, looked at him and the moment he noticed, turned and blushed. Blushed? Well, now….

By the time they’d arrived in Ponyville and ended their impromptu set, the ponies were applauding, either clapping outright or stomping on the floor. Even one of the ones attempting trouble had apologized for her earlier comments and wished them well on their time in Ponyville. As they debarked the train, they were met by their contact, a young stallion named Snails. He was an entomology professor, he said, and was on loan from the University of Canterlot to FiMPro as a research fellow; he was initially assigned to travel to the human world, but had been requested by none other than Princess Celestia herself to remain behind to assist some of the humans, as he was married to one of the particulars in the custody battle. He admitted that he’d been one of the ones that hadn’t done anything to stop them – but his reason was to see how the humans would handle it.

“That was incredible! I’ll be honest, if you’d been in trouble, I was given arrest authority by the Crown, but you dealt with your oppressors so very smoothly. If you don’t mind, I’ll have to talk to you three to record some documents for a few of my homonologist colleagues back at CanterU. Nearly all of them are involved with the FiMPro project, but they needed extra hooves, and I’ve always been the curious sort, which is why I volunteered.”

“Homonologists?” Skye asked.

“Homonolgy? Study of humans? Don’t you have a study of your own species, like equinology applies to us?”

“Oh, that’s anthropology, on our world,” Robin answered. “My older sister, in fact, is an anthropologist. I’ll give you her email address, if you’d like.”

“What’s e-mail?”

The following morning after a wonderful overnight stay at an inn in the center of town, they prepped for their performance in the town square by the fountain. As they were discussing sets, they found a few songs that they all agreed would work well in English and weren’t likely to offend the ponies. So, with that in mind, Robin and Skye played their guitars, while Cyndi sang:

“You would come to me then without answers
Lick my wounds and remove my demands for now
Eucalyptus and orange trees are blooming
In that dream there's no darkness a-looming
In that dream moving slow through the morning time”

Robin almost lost concentration the moment she started singing. Cyndi’s voice was incredible – and that was an understatement. It was beautiful, angelic, rapturous, as if she were a siren herself. It commanded the attention of all who heard it, and ponies who were within earshot, and the square became filled with dozens of very interested ponies.

As they performed during the day, Robin put his guitar case out there, and ponies started throwing bits in it. By the time they’d stopped for lunch, Skye looked surprised and Cyndi looked annoyed.

“Isn’t that kind of rude?” the younger sister asked. “The Equestriani government’s paying us a lot of money to perform around the country, so collecting tips seems really gauche, if you ask me.”

“Only if it was for me,” Robin answered. “You see, I really don’t need the money, but what I do is at the end of the year, I gather all the money I collect and then throw in some of my own money, then donate the whole thing to a local charity. I’ll probably do that with the FiMPro money this year as well – it’s not what we earn that’s important to me, it’s the freedom.”

“You must be quite well-off to be able to do this,” Skye inquired. There was a questioning look in her eyes, and for just the fraction of a moment, Robin felt as he was being put on the spot.

“Then why not say you’re donating all the money you’re collecting for charity?” Cyndi asked.

“Well, tell me this, then: do you know the names of any charities here in Equestria?” Cyndi looked as if she were about to say something, then thought better of it. “See?” Robin said, not unkindly. “If you just put up a ‘FOR CHARITY’ sign without a specific one mentioned, people think you’re just scamming them, but if you look like the money’s for you, well, to them, that’s a sort of charity they’re donating to and leaves you free to turn the money around and donate it to someone else who really needs it,” he pointed out.

“That’s just fascinating!” Snails said as he walked up to them. He’d picked up lunch for them from a local eatery, and apologized for the vegetarian fare, as he knew humans were omnivores. “That’s quite a unique way of looking at it, Robin.”

“It’s just human nature,” he shrugged, taking a bite of a watercress-and-cheese sandwich supplied to him. “If we’re all the same as Princess Cadance states, then it wouldn’t surprise me if ponies acted much the same way.”

“Well, let’s put that to the test,” Snails said, “a gentlestallion’s wager. “I’m willing to bet that if we try putting up a sign, ponies will contribute more. If I lose, I’ll throw in a hundred bits into the whole collection, and if you lose—”

“I’ll throw in a hundred bucks,” Robin said instantly.

“Well, I wasn’t going to make you, but….” Snails offered a hoof. “Deal?”

Robin took and shook it. “Deal.”

The afternoon performance came, and it was an entirely different set of ponies than had come by in the morning. Snails had supplied a generic FOR CHARITY sign and the trio performed for several hours. Sure enough, Robin had been right, and they’d made hardly even a fraction of what they made earlier.

“See?” he said, as he recorded the amount of money they’d collected in a small notebook he used for such purposes. “You can’t say that it’s general mistrust of humans, because the ones from earlier today gave a lot. It’s just human nature – in a sense – at work.”

“That’s very intriguing,” Snails said as he finished writing down everything before he magicked both pen and papers into his saddlebags. “It’s late, and we should break down for the day. Tomorrow we head to Rockton. As for me, I’ve got to file my daily report, and then let my wife know how I’m doing – she’s a bit nervous about me being with humans, though I told her I’d be fine.”

“Well, if you don’t mind, I’m going to look around the town,” Skye said.

“I’ll take your stuff back to the inn if you’d like, sis,” Cyndi offered.

“Tell you what: let’s both do that,” Robin replied, “and then we’ll go grab something to eat at that ‘meatery’ I saw on the other end of town. I dunno about you, but I could really go for some protein right now.”

She blushed slightly, but recomposed herself quickly. “Sure, let’s.”

Half-an-hour later, the pair were at the Meatery, a restaurant that catered to the few carnivores that lived in town. To his surprise, they’d scored a free meal, both because the gryphon who owned the place loved their music and because Robin had just introduced the owner to a new, exotic type of meal: the cheeseburger.

“So, tell me about yourself,” she asked. “From what Skye tells me, buskers usually don’t have much money, so the fact that you can just collect it all and spend your own is rather interesting.”

“Well, if we were around other humans right now, I wouldn’t be admitting this….” he began.

“My lips are sealed,” she replied.

“Thanks. My Dad’s Bob Kirkland, CEO of Kirkland Industries,” Robin admitted. When that was met with a blank stare, he said, “Sometimes people are familiar with the name, sometimes not. Kirkland Industries owns a lot of factories around the world – well, our Earth – and we contract with a lot of the major companies to build stuff for them – Sony, Microsoft, Apple, Dalek-Ix, Samsung, you know, all the names. But the big thing about Kirkland Industries is that most of the people we hire are disabled, because they’re entitled to a life too. It started way back when my great-grandfather’s sister was born blind and he vowed to ensure that she and others like her had normal lives. It’s in our family blood, and that’s why I donate all my busking funds to charity – people who have one foot in the disadvantaged bin deserve to be treated as people, not locked away so no one can see them.”

“That’s really admirable of you,” Cyndi said, taking a bite of her salad. “Is that why you’re always talking about freedom?”

“More than just that, to be honest,” he sighed. “I just graduated with my master’s from Harvard Business School this year, and this is my last summer to do the things I want to do; I promised Dad I’d join the family business after that. Don’t get me wrong, what my family’s business is doing is important and I’m pretty good at business, but…well, even being from a wealthy, privileged family, a gilded cage is still a cage.”

“I know how you feel,” she said. “My sister and I…we live in cages, too.”

“Really?”

“You might laugh at what I’m about to tell you, but it’s true nonetheless.”

“I promise I won’t laugh,” Robin said, raising two fingers. “Scout’s honor.” When she looked at him oddly, he grinned. “Yeah, I was in the Boy Scouts for a while and so it stuck.”

“Ah, I see,” she commented. She paused for a second, and admitted, “Well, Skye and I? We’re…we’re princesses.”

“Oh,” he said. “Really?”

“Yup. I’m not allowed to say where we’re from – I promised I wouldn’t – but if you think about it, you’ll figure it out. After all, most of the princesses on Earth – human-Earth, that is – are in their twenties this year. For example, Princess Aiko of Japan? She’s 28; Princess Isabella of Denmark is 22; Princess Alexia of the Netherlands is 24; and the Princesses of Monaco….” She shut up and left it at that.

“You’re from Monaco?”

“I didn’t say we were,” she said enigmatically. “But there’s at least fifteen more princesses left that I haven’t mentioned, and we could be one of those.”

“Okay, I get your point. But neither of you act like princesses.”

“It’s because, like you put it, when we’re away from everything, we’re free, no longer in the gilded cage. I can be me, instead of pretending to be a princess that’s me.” She took another drink from her glass of lemonade and then said, “I’d really appreciate it if you kept it quiet. I’d appreciate it even more if you just treated us like regular people instead of, well…you know.”

“Well, we’re both used to gilded cages but we’re free right now, so how could I even think about putting you back in?” he stated. “Mum’s the word. But,” he laughed, “for a moment I thought you were going to say something goofy.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, something outlandish – like you and Skye are the missing princesses who rule this place in disguise.”

“Maybe I am,” Cyndi said haughtily. “Should I show you my horn?”

“Funny.”

“I thought so. But they’re not missing – you heard what that other princess, Cadance, said; they’re just on other business – and the fact that I ran into Princess Luna before she departed. Being a princess myself, I’m guessing they’re on goodwill tours of the human nations, trying to defuse the anger. That’s what Skye and I would be doing if the situation applied to us.” A sudden look crossed her face and she said, “But if you ask me, I feel sorry for them.”

“Sorry? How so? Every bit of information I read about them says they’re goddesses! How do you feel sorry for a goddess?”

“Because that’s an even bigger cage than you or I have. And what if they’re not goddesses?”

“How could they not be? The documentation says both of them are thousands of years old.”

“Well, sea turtles and sequoia trees live for hundreds and thousands of years, respectively, and you don’t see anyone worshiping those.”

“But they’re alicorns! They’ve got to live on a whole other plane of existence than we do.”

“Well, so do we as compared to, say, ants, and as far as I know, they don’t worship us,” she said. “I’ll bet if you were to ask someone like Princess Celestia, I’m going to bet they feel the same way as just about every royal does: trapped, unhappy, wanting to break free of their cages. Maybe their ‘business’ is actually a vacation for them, an actual way to escape the cage for just a brief moment.”

“Just like you?”

“Just like me,” she said with a sad voice, “just like you.”

“I never thought about it like that before,” he admitted. He looked at her, and it suddenly clicked. “Cyndi. Cynthia. Kirkland Industries has a factory in Andorra, whose ruler is King Enrique…and whose daughters are named Ciela and Cynthia…and whose mother is a former American Olympic ice skater named Jillian Hanover.”

She looked at him, saying nothing.

“I’ll keep my mouth shut, Cyndi. I won’t go back on my word.”

“Then let me offer you an extra incentive to do so,” she said as she leaned across the table and kissed him.

It was a few weeks later, in the city of Las Neighgas, and Skye woke up in the middle of the night – and found her sister’s bed unslept in. Again. By now, the three humans and stallion had become good friends and the princesses’ secret was known to the two males, who kept it quiet, as was Robin’s secret, which was kept quiet as well. It was also obvious to Skye and Snails that the other two members of their small group had fallen for each other.

Skye smiled as the empty bed next to her, and then got up and knocked on the door of the hotel room across the way. Sleepy-eyed, Robin answered the door. He found Skye standing there, arms crossed, an accusing look in her face.

“I know she’s in there, Robin,” Skye accused.

“I…uh,” he said, realizing what was going on.

But the smile that then lit on her face was sympathetic. “You know this won’t last, and that it can’t. Both of you live in different worlds,” she said. As the old saying goes, ‘the princess is in another castle.’”

“My feelings won’t change,” he said, his tone firm.

“I know. And hers won’t either, which is why it will be so painful when the end comes. But until then, love each other like no man and woman has. After all, to paraphrase another old saying, what happens in Las Neighgas stays in Las Neighgas.”

“Then a question for you, your highness,” he said, indicating he wanted her opinion as a royal figure and not as the average person. “If you could just walk away from it all, would you?”

“Well, the very first thing I would walk away from is being called ‘your highness,’” she said with a laugh. “But if given that chance…Cyndi and I would run as far and fast as we could and never look back and go to a place where we could be free – and she could have a boyfriend that very much needs a shave.”

“Yeah, Cyndi said the same thing,” Robin said, running his hands over his stubble. “I’ll get to it in the morning. Anyway, you have a good night, Skye.”

As he went back to bed, he found Cyndi, sitting up, looking at him with sad eyes. “I hope you feel I’m not using you,” she said.

“Do you think I’m using you?”

“Of course not. But….” She couldn’t finish her words, instead just pulling Robin back to the bed and holding him. “I wish I could be normal,” she said softly.

“You are normal,” he replied. “You just wish that you didn’t have your cage, just like me. And you know what? While we’re here, we don’t.”

“You’re right, we don’t,” she said with a sudden smile. “So, for the rest of our time here, we’re just Robin and Cyndi?”

“That’s the way I think it should be,” he said, kissing her tenderly.

Skye wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but she managed to hear what they were saying anyway, and she smiled. They could never be a true couple, but for their short time here in the FiMPro, it was what they both deserved: to be free from their cages. She was about to go back into her room, when she heard some shouting down the hall. Curious as to what it was, she went.

“Snails, Ah’ve always trusted yer judgement,” a female voice said, “but Ah think y’ shouldn’t continue this. It’s hertin’ Rarity real bad, an’ she is family.”

“Bloomie,” he heard Snails’ voice, “I want you to think about something: how much pain could have been averted if we ponies knew humans better than we do? I’ve been with these three for the past few weeks and you know what? They’re just like the average stallion and mare. I’m even watching a pair of them fall in love right in front of my eyes, and apart from the homolo…I mean, anthropological aspects of it, they’re no different than when you and I were first dating. Or Scootaloo and Featherweight, or Diamond Tiara and Snips, or Silver Spoon and Inkspot, or….”

“Yeah, Ah know whut yer gunna say next,” Apple Bloom said with a smile. “Like Sweetie an’ Pip, if they c’n ever figure it out.”

“Exactly,” Snails said to his wife.

“Excuse me,” Skye popped in. “I didn’t mean to overhear, but it’s echoing through the halls.”

“Oh,” Apple Bloom said, meaning to apologize before she realized she was speaking to a human. “Look, Ah got nuthin’ to say t’ a bunch o’ people that took someone Ah love from me.”

“Skye, this is my wife, Apple Bloom. Apple Bloom, this is Skye Hanover, one of the humans I’m working with.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Skye said, offering a hand.

Apple Bloom didn’t reciprocate. “Wish Ah could say th’ same, but Ah can’t.”

Giving his wife a disappointed look, Snails said, “Skye, what Bloomie is referring to is the Sandalwood case – the pony raised on your Earth as DJ Martinez. She’s our niece, so it’s somewhat personal. My sincerest apologies for not telling you that part beforehand, Skye.”

“I quite understand, Snails,” Skye said a sad look on her face. “So, Apple Bloom, you’re blaming my entire species because of something that happened between a couple of humans and a few of your people?”

“Y’ humans took mah niece! Whut am Ah s’pposed t’ think?” she snarled.

“That maybe it was her choice?” Skye replied. “I’ve read up on the case, and everything I’ve seen – on both sides, since Snails was willing to give me the pony perspective – and everything I can see ultimately said that it was her choice, that she loved her human family and she considered herself a human and wanted to live amongst her ‘people’, quote unquote.”

“But she’s not!” Apple Bloom replied. “She’s just a…Ah wouldn’t ‘spect a human t’ understand what it’s like havin’ sumthin’ taken away from ya.”

“I’m watching my younger sister build a relationship with a man she can never have at the end of the day,” Skye said. “And it hurts me to see that. So don’t think I wouldn’t understand.”

“An’ why should Ah believe ya?”

Skye immediately revealed why.

Apple Bloom suddenly felt shame, shock and embarrassment. “Ah…Ah understand now. Ah’m sorry, Princess.”

Finally and regrettably it was the last week of August, and the FiMPro was winding down. At the exit conference, Princess Cadance pronounced the thing a smashing success, but the proof was Rarity herself, staying in the room the whole time and even managing a “thank you” to the humans assembled.

“And as a special reward, each of you is to meet with her majesty Princess Celestia and her highness Princess Luna, who arrived back in Canterlot just recently from their business away from the palace,” Cadance said. “They wanted to meet with you all individually to thank you for your efforts. Thank you once again, and fare you all well in your future endeavors,” the alicorn said as she and Rarity departed the room to applause.

“Damn, this was fun,” Jennifer, a Canadian street mime and a friend of Robin’s, said to him, “I should do this again next year. Hey, Robin, where’s your pals? You know, Skye and her sister – you two started dating while you were here, right?”

“They left already, had to go back home early,” he lied. He knew the truth, and it ached in his heart: this past week, Skye had forced her sister to start withdrawing from the relationship. Skye tearfully apologized to Robin personally and begged his forgiveness; if there were another way, she said, she would never have started forcing them apart. But they were a princess from another land and a scion with other responsibilities, the intersection they met at through destiny now had them pointing in different directions. But how could Robin be angry? He’d tasted both freedom and love in his last chance out of his gilded cage; and besides, as he told Skye, how could he blame her for giving them both a brief moment of love together? It was like blaming the sun for its life-giving light and warmth.

“That’s a shame. Well, I’m sure you’ll be seeing her when you get back home, right? As for me, I hooked up with Merritt, that hunky Aussie, and I think I’ll be spending the summer – their summer – at the bottom of the world with him.”

“That’s great, Jen,” he said. “Best of luck for both of you.”

An hour later, he stood before the Solar Throne Room, where he’d meet with the two alicorn princesses in private. As he stood there, Snails came up to him. “So, this is it, then. Gonna be dull not having you around, Robin.”

“Hey, gonna miss you too, Snails. Keep in touch, okay – especially since I gave you my regular address for, as the saying goes, snail mail.”

Snails grinned. “That’s an interesting way to call it, but yeah, I will. Oh, and I found a local charity that I can give the money to: the Home for Disadvantaged Ponies. It’s a place where the blind and deaf go, since we have so very few of them, where they can live in dignity.”

“Couldn’t ask for anything better than that, my friend,” he said. “I’ve asked Princess Cadance to give you the pay she was going to give me so it can go to that donation.”

“And don’t worry, Bloomie and I have agreed to add to it,” he promised. “Anyways, gotta get going; I’ve got a 2pm class to teach. So I’ll talk to you later okay?” Snails offered a hoof once more.

In turn, Robin man-hugged his friend. “Yeah, see ya soon, Snails.”

As his friend walked off, a guard by the door caught his attention. “Mr. Kirkland? Her majesty and her highness will see you now.” The guard opened the door, and Robin Kirkland walked in.

Robin walked into the room, looking around. It was incredible, beautiful, very much solemn…and more like an altar’s nave than a throne room, like the one he saw in Buckingham palace so long ago. That one had been designed for kings and queens. This one, this one was designed—

“For an alicorn worshipped as a goddess-queen, one who would rather not be,” someone said from the front of the room. Robin looked forward and up on the dais, seated before him was large, horse-sized white alicorn and a younger, navy-blue one next to her. Princesses Celestia and Luna. Both of them smiled serenely at him, but it was the look in the eyes of both that betrayed them.

“For alicorns that would rather spend the summer as humans, isn’t that right, Skye? Or is it Celestia? Or Princess Celestia, your majesty?” he said, somewhat angry.

“You knew?” Luna suddenly said, shocked.

“I was just looking up something on my phone, which I haven’t used in months,” he said, a sad smile on his face. “Did you know, this close to the portal you use to get to my world, I can get cellphone signals? Anyway, twenty minutes ago, I looked up info on Andorra, hoping to find some way, any way to convince King Enrique of my love for his 24-year-old daughter, with his older daughter’s words as proof. Except King Enrique doesn’t have two adult daughters. The information packet Dad once showed me apparently had typos, and Wikipedia confirms Princess Ciela was born in 2021 and Cynthia in ’25…making them eight and four years old, respectively. After that, I put two and two together – Ciela means sky or heaven, as does Celestia; and Cyndi is short for Cynthia, which is another name for the moon, as is Luna.”

“I never lied to you,” Luna said. “I couldn’t!”

“You didn’t,” Robin said, “not technically. But misdirection is as dishonest as lying, Cyndi…Luna. I mean, Princess Luna, your highness.”

“Don’t call me that,” she said, looking at him with eyes on the verge of tears. “Please don’t separate me from you, Robin.”

“Then why the subterfuge? Why lie to me? God, it’s not like I haven’t read The Last Unicorn or anything like that. I could have dealt with the fact of who you are!”

“Because we live on a higher plane than you, my love,” Luna said, “but we are not goddesses any more than the Emperor of Japan once claimed to be.”

“Robin, Luna didn’t lie when she said what she did,” Celestia said. “She does love you and if there was a way, I would let her go. But our ponies – not only won’t they change their minds like the Japanese, but they refuse to. They need to believe in us as goddesses, as they did with our mother before she abdicated. But if we abdicate, Cadance takes the throne and she’s not ready. It would be disastrous for both Equestria and Cadance, and I wouldn’t do that to her.”

“So when is fair? Thousands of years from now, when I’m dead and gone, Luna?”

“The…the amniomorphic spell works both ways, and there are ways to infuse a body to extend life. I…could make you one of us. You could stay with me, and we could be together.”

“Now, that would be great, but it’s also a pipe dream,” he said with a sad smile. “I wasn’t lying when I said I was in just as much a gilded cage as you. The reason I have to join the family business is because Dad really does need me; believe me when I say if he had his way, I would stay here with you.” Robin looked down. “But Dad’s dying of cancer, and if I don’t take over the business, CEO goes to my cousin Jake. Jake’s an asshat who already has said that he’d do strategic liquidation – by the way, if you’re not familiar with that term, it means that he’d fire every blind, deaf and disabled person who works for the company because it would save the company cash he could use it to pad his salary. We place our factories where there’s a need for jobs, not where it will save us the most bucks, and Jake’s nothing but a ruthless pirate whose side of the family owns a minority but sadly influential stake.”

“So you’re just as trapped as me,” Luna said, tearfully. “I’m going to lose you anyway.”

“Like your sister said, it was just a brief time, but for that time I loved you like no man ever loved a woman.”

“And I you like no mare ever a stallion,” she said, shifting to her human form as she approached him. The moment it was done, she leapt forward and kissed him with all the love in her heart. Celestia turned away, both to give them privacy and to once again curse herself for this. Unlike the last pony and human couple she saw, this one could never be.

She let them have as much time to say goodbye as she could, until she knew Luna’s heart was breaking. “Luna, it’s time to say goodbye,” the sun princess gently said.

Cyndi…no, Luna, he told himself, looked at him with heartbroken eyes. “I will always—” she started, but he silenced her with a finger to her lips.

“I know,” he said kindly, “and so will I. Always.” Nothing more to say, he nodded to Celestia and left, not daring to turn around, knowing if he did, he would break his promise to his father. But he had his cage to return to and it was time to her to return to hers as well.

As he left, Luna broke out in song, forcing herself to sing:

“I know someday the smoke will all burn off
All these voices I'll someday have turned off
I will see you someday when I've woken
I'll be so happy just to have spoken
I'll have so much to tell you about it

In that dream I could hardly contain it
All my life I will wait to attain it
There, there, there”

She kept singing as she couldn’t take it anymore, collapsing to the floor as she transformed to her true form, the night alicorn completely shattered in heart, Celestia moving to her sister’s side, feeling guiltier than she ever had in life.

Robin walked through the doors and as he did, dared to steal one final glance at his love in her true form, looking at the crying dark eyes, eyes meant for him and him only. And then the golden doors were shut, and all was ended.

“Hey, Dad, can we go on the Ferris wheel?” a young girl asked.

Robin Kirkland, the 40-year-old CEO of Kirkland Industries looked down and smiled at his daughter. “That sounds like a plan. Let’s go get tickets,” he said with a laugh as the pair walked on the Santa Monica Pier. The place had changed since the last time he was here fifteen years prior, and the restoration of Pacific Park had made it even more a jewel of the beach.

Of course, this meant visitors and visitors meant buskers, students in their college years as he had been, performing for various reasons whether it be love, life, adventure, or in his case, freedom. And so many young men and women were there, performing for the onlookers who threw them cash…

…including, as he saw now, one raven-haired beauty who looked so very familiar. Too familiar.

Robin led his daughter down to the part of the pier where the buskers were. Sure enough, dressed in a gray T-shirt and deep blue jeans, strumming away at a guitar was a beautiful young woman, the image of a woman that had lovingly haunted his dreams for the past fifteen years.

She looked up. “Oh, hello to you, sir!” she said with a smile he knew from so long ago. “My name is Selena. Don’t mind me, I’m just a performer.”

“I was once one so long ago,” he said, wondering now if it was really her. She had her guitar case open, and he opened his wallet to add some money to it, as had others already.

Once he did, she said “Thank you, but I don’t need it. Truthfully, at the end of the summer I just take all the money I collect and donate it to a local charity. Someone I knew once did that and I thought it was a wonderful idea.”

“Then why not put up a sign saying so?” he said. Luna….

“That wouldn’t work, sir. People think you’re scamming them otherwise, but if they think it’s for you, well, then it’s a different sort of charity and one you can turn to donate at your desire.” She looked at him and her eyes spoke of her love.

“So…what’s the song you were performing, if I may ask?”

“It’s a song about two birds in love, living in cages next to each other. The birds loved each other passionately, but then one day they were separated, and the remaining bird sings about her love the day as strong as the last time they were together, so very long ago. I admit, it’s a sad song, but it speaks from the heart.”

“I know a little thing or two about the heart myself, miss,” he said. “I used to be a busker myself, once.”

“Really? And now?”

“Now, I’m just the CEO of a company that does great good for others, but as for me? I never know. I fell in love once with a woman that I could never get out of my mind; two divorces later, I’ve given up looking elsewhere and realize I belong only to her. Now, I’m sure she would want me to find happiness with someone else, but…you don’t always find what you’re looking for.”

“I…see,” the busker said, downcast.

“Dad, you know her?” the young girl asked. “I don’t think you’ve mentioned her before. Besides, I thought we were going on the Ferris Wheel.”

He chuckled, tousling his daughter’s blonde hair. “Don’t be so impatient, Luna,” he gently admonished her.

The name caught the attention of the busker. “You named your daughter Luna?”

“Of course. It’s my way of proving to the woman I love that my heart always belongs to her,” he said. “Sure, my wife wasn’t happy about it, but I think she knew I was the marked territory of someone else already. Probably why she’s the first ex-wife now.”

“I can understand that. I no longer date since I feel that I’d be lying to myself,” she admitted.

Robin wanted to say something, but instead let his eyes say it as he looked into hers. Finally, after a few minutes, he said, “Well, time waits for no impatient seven year old, miss, so I must get going. Perhaps…I’ll see you again someday.”

“Perhaps you will,” she said and as Robin and his daughter walked away out of earshot, she watched his retreating form and whispered, “And someday I hope I’ll be free of this cage to be with you, love.” And then he passed into the crowds and she turned away, wiped a tear from her eye and started playing a Paul Simon song as more passers-by stopped to listen to the young busker’s music.

Mythomania

Something didn’t feel right. Sitting at her desk in the Tokyo bureau of her network, Nicole St. Germain just felt…off about that interview she just did with DJ Martinez. She really couldn’t put her finger on it, and with a week left to go before broadcast, she went to talk to someone about it, someone who might be able to give her a better perspective on things: Ray Kitano. The network leased their Tokyo Bureau offices from the headquarters of Fuji Television, and such she had easy access to Ray. As for Ray himself, he was a Fresno-born Japanese-American who spent time working in the wilds of rural California local news stations before he’d had the luck to be hired by Fuji TV as their analyst on American issues as well as the current anchor of their Sunday morning news program Inside America. They’d met back when they were both reporters for KHSL in Chico, California when she was a college student and he was the senior reporter there; as a result, he was an old friend she could trust to give her the straight news while not beating down on her.

So down she went from her office on the 7th floor to his on the 3rd, looking for his office in the labyrinthine forest of desks and such until she came across KITANO, Rei engraved on a plaque on the wall. Technically “Rei” was his first name, but he preferred the English spelling; however, his paycheck dictated otherwise, so the Japanese stuck with that. As she knocked, he called out in Japanese for the knocker to come in and so she did.

He was seated at his desk, looking over some documents on his computer when she came in. “Oh, heya, Cole. What’s up?”

“Need a bit of advice,” she said as she dropped into the seat in front of him. “That interview I was telling you about the other day, the one with the pony raised with humans—”

“See?” he said, his smile wide enough to set off the crow’s-feet near his eyes. “Did I not tell you getting the US Forces base passes would be invaluable?”

“Yeah, and I seriously owe you one for that – turns out after Kramer left, I was the only one who had them,” she said with a grin. “But, now that I’ve done the interview, something’s bothering me. Something I can’t quite put my finger on.”

“Something that you think will cause the heads in New York to kill the story?”

“I was already told they won’t kill it. We got an exclusive with DJ, so to kill something this big would be just inviting the competition to sweep in.” She leaned forward on the desk. “It’s just personal curiosity.”

Ray rolled his eyes. “Cole, I know that look. Didn’t you learn your lesson the last time you had ‘personal curiosity’?”

“Sure did – got the Emmy for local television reporting on catching that serial killer, and it wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t kept obsessing over that picture of bubble gum constantly. Even though you told me not to.”

He laughed, shrugging. “Okay, point. So, what’s the worry now?”

“Just…something about the story. I really can’t put my finger on it. DJ – she’s a nice person, and she’s also a very fascinating one that would rather not be, but…something about the story. Just irks me.”

“You think she was lying to you?”

“No. In fact, she was very straightforward with me in a way that every reporter wishes every interview was like.”

“So that’s what’s bothering you, then,” he asked, looking briefly back at his computer. “The fact that she was open and prepped, unlike just about every other interview out there.”

Nicole nodded. “You got it.”

“I take it you want me to look at the footage,” he said.

“If you would. It’s on my personal server. You know the address. The folder is ‘Martinez interview’, and the footage is the only thing in it.”

“It’ll take me a couple of days to get to it,” he commented. “I’m going to be out of town for the rest of the week as part of the G-8 summit down in Osaka; it should be interesting as it’s Equestria’s formal entry into the group; I wonder how long it’ll take for people to start calling it the G-9. Regardless, though, I’ll get to you first thing next week. Will that work?”

She leaned back in her chair, feeling much better now. “Yeah, very much. I appreciate this, Ray.”

“Enough so that you owe me a beer. I’ll see you later; I’ve got to be on the air in fifteen minutes and need to prep.”

She grinned. “Great big frosty Asahi first chance we get. Promise.”

It was two weeks later when he called her. “Sorry for taking so long to get back to you, but after watching it, something bothered me as well, so I had a friend at UCSF watch it – he’s a psychologist, so he’s agreed to keep this under wraps; he said he also watched the final version that was broadcast on TV and had questions of his own. In any case, what he told me you might find interesting. Do you have time to meet?”

“Sure, I haven’t had lunch yet.”

“Okay, then let’s meet at the usual spot on the Ginza.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea: the owners adopted a pony themselves, and that filly just adores DJ – if she hears anything negative, that just might break her heart. I think we might want to pick somewhere else.”

“Okay, there’s a café in the Tokyo International Center, just outside the entrance to Tokyo Station, about a block north of Yūrakuchō. Meet you there, say, in an hour?”

“Deal. See you then.”

The café was much different than the one she was used to, but it was a better choice in the long run. Unlike the other, which seemed to marry Japanese and French aesthetics, this one had a more generic, IKEA look to it, likely because it was busier due to its location just outside the entrance to Tokyo station and so the owner didn’t have much time to significantly remodel. She noticed Ray at a table by the back of the café, and she went to sit down.

Briefly giving her order to the waitress that came up to them, she then looked at him. “Okay, you’ve got my attention.”

Ray set down his coffee and gave her his most studious look. “How much do you know about mythomania?”

“Never heard of it,” Nicole said. From the way Ray started the conversation, it couldn’t be good.

“Okay, you know what a pathological liar is, right?”

Nicole looked at him oddly. “Look, DJ clearly had PTSD, but she wasn’t a pathological liar. I’ve dealt with enough of those, so I know them when I see them, and I can say she isn’t.”

“I didn’t say she was,” he said. “But according to my friend, in addition to everything else, she’s got involuntary pseudologia fantastica, better known by its old name, mythomania; at least that’s his guess based on the 'eyeball view' since he’d actually need to sit down with her to make any kind of finalized determination. Anyway, Chris – Dr. Hickins, the Dean of the Psychology and Psychiatric Studies Division over at UCSF – explained it this way: pseudologia fantastica has two different varieties: involuntary, which is mythomania; and acute, which is pathological lying. In short, she’s lying, but she actually believes those lies.”

“Okay, that’s the weirdest thing I’ve heard all day – and my current assignment’s on a sumo wrestler who wants to try to be a ballet dancer,” she said with a brief smile.

“Okay, what if I were to tell you repeatedly that I was the secret son of Emperor Hirohito, from his marriage to my mother?”

“Well, I’d know that’d be BS – you told me your parents were both teachers in Redding.”

“So it’s easy enough to prove my real parentage despite my lies. That’s what acute pseudologia fantastica – pathological lying – is. The ‘victim’, so to speak, is addicted to lying; he knows he’s going to get caught, but doesn’t care because he’s so used to lying, it’s habitual. But a mythomaniac would be as if the above occurred, but every time you proved it I was incensed by your quote, unquote ‘lies’, because I actually believe I’m a Japanese prince. Mythomaniacs aren’t really telling lies, in a sense, because they actually believe it’s true even if the real truth is otherwise. They’re not addicted to lying, unlike their acute PF counterparts, because they’re supposedly telling the truth.”

“So, subjective truth at the personal level?”

“Exactly. Think about it: you probably couldn’t remember what you had for lunch this time last month. Even people with so-called ‘photographic memory’ can’t remember everything in their lives. The human brain just doesn’t work that way, and I’m willing to bet pony ones don’t either – and in any case, she’s got a human mindset, so the former would likely apply more. And yet she recalled the past thirty-five years of her life with precise memory, with the exception of her arrival on Earth and some other minor moments.”

“So you’re telling me that instead of telling me her life story—”

“—she was telling you a story about her life, yes. And if that isn’t enough, let me add these extra facts Chris gave me. Creative types are at higher risk for becoming mythomaniacs than the regular population – and she’s a writer, as are her adoptive parents; and from the interviews with her parents and husband – I got those from Max, by the way – her biological mother is a creative type as well. Women are also at greater risk of mythomania, and while the study was done in the early 2000s and Ms. Martinez is not a human, she has a human mindset, so Chris believes it applies. Lastly, when you mentioned the PTSD, he said that vastly increases the risk of other mental issues, mythomania being one of those.”

“Is there proof?”

“Oh, is there. I called in a favor from Fuji’s White House correspondent, Okada Misako, and she went and did the digging for me. Martinez said the family had a Korean Jindo that she cried over when the dog died when Martinez was 14. Except…that isn’t what the record says. Okada got a hold of the people who own the Vet clinic now – apparently Dr. Hilton sold it when he started developing equiniatric medicine – and the Martinez family had a St. Bernard named Monolith, or “Monty” for short, that died on September 8th, 2026. The Martinez family later owned a Korean Jindo named Baekgu, but they didn’t buy that dog until 2031 – after DJ Martinez had moved to Los Angeles to attend college.”

“But why lie about something like that?”

“Because she didn’t lie – not in her mind. She remembers a loving, faithful dog, and Jindos are known for their loyalty. With the dog being a stranger to the US – Jindos are an extremely rare breed outside of Korea – and being a stranger herself, she just ‘remembered’ about her loyal childhood friend and conflated the two.”

Nicole sat and drank her coffee in utter shock. How much of her interview was now invalid? How many lies were about to be broadcast in front of an international audience, even if DJ hadn’t intended that?

Ray saw that look and sympathized. “So, are you thinking of a follow-up story?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. On one hand, if I don’t, it will have a serious impact on my career if this gets out. On the other hand, DJ has clearly been through some serious crap in her life and the least thing she needs is to be dragged through it even more. If she’s got PTSD and this mythomania? She needs counseling, not demonization.”

“Glad to see you haven’t lost the caring side, Cole – too many reporters only care about the words on the screen, not the people behind them.” He pulled out a small notebook, and then scribbled something into it before tearing off the sheet and handing it to her. “This is the email for Devon Barrett, a journalist at the BBC. He was one of only a handful of humans in Equestria covering the trial and he might be able to help you.”

“Because interviewing her birth family will give their side of the story and just make it a “he said/she said.” Nicole commented, figuring out Ray’s unspoken suggestion.

“Exactly,” Ray said, snapping his fingers in excitement. “Plus, by having both sides, you get another exclusive and you get to keep the bad stuff under wraps. Your job’s safe, her dignity’s safe and when you get a chance, then you can suggest to someone about getting help for her. Maybe her husband; from his interview, he seems like he’s very level-headed.”

A week went by before she’d heard a response from Barrett. He sent a copy of all his files and a brief recording of what he remembered, along with a note of sympathy for her – he’d had a friend who was drummed out of the Beeb for interviewing a pathological liar and it had cost the reporter his job for lack of following up, he’d said. But it was the last item that counted the most: an email for a pony named Newsbeat who was the Tokyo correspondent for the Equestria Daily, the largest newspaper in that country.

She emailed him and explained her situation; he, in turn said he’d watched it via satellite news and spotted the discrepancies instantly. They agreed to meet over lunch; he had an apartment on Tokyo Teleport Island and that was just down the street from the Fuji TV building. They decided to meet in a café just across the street from the Tokyo Big Sight and Nicole was treated at first to a comical sight: Newsbeat very much reminded her of one of those hardboiled newspaper reporters from the heyday of newspapers back in the 1940s, a century past. Showing up with a fedora, rumpled suit with loosened tie and a need for straight black Joe, the unicorn stallion however turned out to be as informative and serious at his job as those same reporters of that bygone age.

“Yeah, I saw the lies the moment I watched it – plain as day to anyone who knows what they’re looking for. Mythomania? Naah, I don’t buy that. Sure, I’m certain there’s something wrong with that mare, plain as the muzzle on her face! And! And maybe…maybe she’s got a case of involuntary pseudologia fantastica, but it’s more to it than that. Look in her eyes, the part at 2:06:54. It’s there just for a second – just for a blink – that’s not mythowhatever, that’s just raw hatred.”

Nicole looked at her tablet and ran the time; she recognized it as a point where she’d taken her eyes off DJ. “That’s not…directed at me, is it?”

Newsbeat nickered slightly. “Oh, naah. She likes you, that’s obvious – she wouldn’t have been as open if she didn’t. She had a story to tell, and whether it was her story or a story about her, it was clear that she was going to get it off her barrel, but she needed the right person and you were it. Take someone like Nick Travers over at CNN, Tyrone Campbell at Fox News, or Dana Sterling over at MSNBC – you think any of those high-profile blowhards are gonna get anything out of that filly? I don’t think so; seems to me like she wouldn’t raise a hoof for them. But you, mare, you got the magic touch like you were an alicorn or something.”

“Thanks,” Nicole said. That was a compliment. I think.

“Honestly, I’m just hopin’ that ain’t directed at Luse and his,” he said, glumly.

“Luse?”

Newsbeat shrugged goodnaturedly. “Well…since disclosure is disclosure, I got a confession: one of my good friends is Luse – Elusive, her younger brother. We met in college when we both went to Royal Manehattan U. and we keep in touch often. Married an Apple, good folks them. Then again, heh, so did I – you can’t go anywhere in Equestria without running into someone from that huge-flank clan.” Newsbeat took another drink from his coffee, and then continued. “Luse’s probably the most normal of his family: his mom’s a government bigwig, his dad’s a no-nonsense go-Army type, and then there’s Minty – oh, that mare’s got some serious issues of her own. It’s amazing Luse is as normal as he is, but I’m guessing that’s due to that small army of mares he’s got for aunts. Then again, if I were related to all six Bearers and three princesses, I’d probably make sure I flew straighter than Commander Hurricane, too.”

“I hate to impose, but would it be possible to meet with Luse…I mean, Elusive?”

“Figured you were going to get to that. Well, I’ll put in a good word for you, but obviously I can’t promise anything. Let me see what I can do.” He checked his watch and got up from the table. “Now, I hate to run off, but I’ve got a 1:30 with Maeda Aiko regarding her upcoming album with DJ P0N-3. Personally, I hate working with celebs, but…news is what it is.” Giving a friendly wave, he took off towards the nearby train station.

She finished her own coffee before departing. That had to be one of the most interesting experiences I’ve had with a colleague.

The reply came unexpectedly quick. Nicole had just stepped out of the shower after a long day of her own work – next time a sumo wrestler wants to demonstrate he can do Swan Lake in front of you? Wear earthquake-proof clothing – and was looking forward to dinner, curling up with a good book for a couple of hours and then some well-deserved sleep.

But as she stepped out of her bedroom in her apartment in Suganami, a flash of light suddenly appeared, startling her. The light-blue flash turned into wisps of flame the same color as ash appeared, the ash turning into paper. A scent of vanilla filled the air as the spell completed, turning into a scroll tied with a dark blue ribbon and a golden wax seal. As it landed in her hand, it still felt warm to the touch. Nicole undid the bindings and opened the scroll, a slight smile coming to her face: she’d gotten responses from others many a time in many a fashion, but magically-transported letters were something very new.

Dear Ms. St. Germain,

I just received word from Newsbeat regarding your request. I would like to say that I would be delighted to meet with you; it would also give me a chance to visit my old friend, who’s been insisting for quite some time that my wife and I should come to visit him and my sister-in-law – our wives are sisters, in case he hadn’t mentioned that.

As soon as I arrive in Japan I’ll contact you more directly so we can set up a time. I only ask two things: one, that you not tell DJ about this, as I don’t wish to upset her further; and two, that this be off-the-record, as I’d rather my family history not be raked over the coals once more – DJ’s rather colorful interview was shown on EqTV yesterday and it was, as the news presenters here said, very controversial.

I look forward to seeing you.

- Elusive, Count Lusitano

Another week went by before Nicole got the message: dinner at ANCHORS at the Tokyo DECKS complex, also located not far from work. It was a somewhat expensive restaurant – they’d held Kramer’s retirement there mid-last year – and one where the well-heeled usually went to. A cute little Japanese take on an Italian trattoria, the food was nice and the wine list was good as well – though some of the more exotic dishes on the menu, such as octopus ink pasta with sake-marinated squid, she was never going to get used to.

As she walked in, she noticed dozens of people eating there, enjoying the food and company. Nearly all of them were Japanese, of course, with a smattering of various foreigners here and there. But the truly interesting thing was the four ponies sitting at the table…and no one paying them any heed. Outside of the Anglosphere nations, Japan was the place ponies were most likely found and strangely found themselves very comfortable here.

As she walked towards them, she noticed how comfortable Newsbeat and his wife were in living the human lifestyle; the unicorn reporter was relaxed in a simple black t-shirt and jeans, while his wife Applewine was in a very nice sundress. On the other end, sadly, the other mare, Apple Butter, looked completely miserable in clothing; Nicole later found out it was because Apple Butter was pregnant and approaching the fourth quarter of her pregnancy; it was also exacerbated by the fact that she was carrying twins, a rarity for ponies.

But it was Elusive that proved to be the most intriguing. For starters, Nicole could see that DJ’s brother was very much like she described Rarity. It was clear the apple didn’t fall far from the tree: decked out in a tastefully chosen dark gray polo and ecru slacks with slate boatshoes and matching belt, Elusive clearly had inherited his mother’s fashion flair. He had a certain charm and wit about him and Nicole had little doubt that he charmed mares as easily as he could have charmed women had he been human; he probably could charm ones like her just as easily, truth be told.

The moment she was within feet of the table, Elusive was on his hindlegs, offering his forehoof. The action was, from the few ponies she’d reacted with prior, unusual and if anything reminded her of Elusive’s sister. “Ms. St. Germain, a pleasure to meet you. Thanks for taking the time to come – and, if I might be frank, thanks for keeping this under wraps.”

“This is all merely follow-up, your grace, nothing more.”

He waved off the title. “Please, either Elusive or Luse – I’m not hung up on heraldry.”

“Please, just call me either Nicole or Cole.”

As the four talked, it was interesting to see how little difference there was between everyday pony life and the human world. Yes, ponies had a culture shock of trying to catch up after being essentially decades to centuries behind in technology in many cases, but much of that technology hadn’t been developed because of magic; indeed, in many specialized cases, the tools and resources were comparable to current human gear. But it was societally that ponies had a long way to go. Twenty years in after formal first contact, pony society had gone a long way towards accepting humans as just another sapient species and not the mythic monsters of nightmares, but they had much of a way to go before they were as comfortable as, say, the gryphons, who had taken to human-Earth like a duck to water.

“However, one thing I noticed, quite curiously, is the number of human males who are dating pony females. My sister, having lived her life in no other way, is obviously understandable as is Ambassador Phillips, who had always insisted humans were as you are and not as we feared them to be, so it was natural she would end up with one as well. But others? We’ve always had an overage of mares – our population is 1.7 mares for every stallion, while your male-to-female ratio is almost exactly 1:1 – but more and more mares are starting to move to Earth to find husbands amongst the human population. I know DJ would rather live a quiet life, but it’s very ironic that her attempt to do so resulted in her becoming a trendsetter.”

Nicole leaned forward, whenever she had pointed questions, but then backed off; she’d agreed this was for personal reasons only, not an outright interview. “I notice you call her DJ instead of Sandalwood. I was under the impression that everyone on Alter-Earth still called her by her birth name.”

Elusive shook his head. “Yes and no. Neither Aunt Twilight nor Aunt Sweetie do; they rarely bring up the name. Most of the others alternate between it depending on context. I think Aunt Bloomie, Aunt Rainbow and Aunt Scoots tend to use her birth name the most. As you’ve seen from the interview, she is correct in that my parents and sister don’t talk about her at all anymore and as for me, she was very comfortable with her human name and not her birth one, so it would be unfair of me to force something on her that she didn’t want.”

“So what did you think of the interview?”

“Well, Ah reckon y’ we’re lookin’ mighty smart in yer handlin’ o’ th’ interview,” Apple Butter spoke, shifting slightly due to her pregnancy.

“Thanks, Apple Butter. But I notice you’re being quiet, Elusive.”

The unicorn was silent for a long time, resting his muzzle on his forehooves in much the same way a human would do so with their head on templed fingers. “Truthfully, Cole? I don’t know what to think. I was only seven years old the last time I saw her so I don’t remember much, but what I do remember is the fighting. I remember my mother, just so very hurt and sad; she cried for days after the, ah, ‘visit’, and my father, well…he was never really one to be emotive, so even today he’s still bottled them up. As for Minty, I think she’s been jealous of DJ since day one. With DJ not having existed in our lives for the first fifteen years, a lot of those parental expectations were shifted to Minty. Yet at the same time, strangely enough, we follow Spock’s Rule of Three.”

“I don’t recall hearing about that in Star Trek,” Nicole mused.

“I was referring to the pediatrician – Dr. Benjamin Spock. The rule of three is as such: if there are multiple children in the family, the oldest child will be given too little attention and in many ways, be forced to fend for him- or herself. The middle one will be given too much attention and will drown in it. The third and subsequent children will have normalized, healthy lives. DJ, the oldest, has had to figure out who she is with nearly her entire foalhood and teen years as an unknown alien alone on a world she didn’t belong to – tell me that’s not the first child in action. Meanwhile, Minty has had to bear the responsibilities of her own birth as well as being the de facto oldest, an extra amount of attention that fits the second. As for myself, well, after losing their first and overburdening the second, I think my parents figured out how to raise me correctly – not that I have any right to question how Mother and Father raised Minty.

“I know DJ is lying about what she saw. But she’s lying because that’s all she saw…and that is her only truth. She never saw Mother go through the years of pain that all my other aunts said they saw, watching Mother and Father cling to each final hope. Did you know that had Aunt Pinkie not made a miscalculation that day – she says she tried to divide by zero – we would not have found this world? Had that not happened, we never would have found her, and I once overheard Aunt Celestia tell Aunt Twilight that she would have pushed to have Sandalwood declared officially dead by the end of that year. Our family couldn’t take the strain much longer. Fortunately, that is now moot.”

“Does DJ know about that?”

“No, I don’t think she does, and I don’t think Aunt Twilight nor Aunt Sweetie Belle would ever bring it up. You see, all my sister sees, rightly or wrongly, is that reconciliation with her birth parents is tantamount to capitulation and the need to disavow everypony…sorry, everyone and everything she’s ever loved. She loves her adoptive parents and that’s obvious, just as it’s obvious that she wasn’t just raised as a dress-up pet. No one would ever go the distance like that if they weren’t fighting for their foal…sorry, child – my apologies, I tend to mix the two forms.”

“That’s okay; I think we do on this side as well.”

Elusive sipped from his wine glass and then continued. “At the same time, I think Mother seems to think that it’s necessary for DJ to ‘find her true self,’ as it were. Mother has to realize that DJ already has – she is not a pony, not on the inside. In her mind and heart, where it counts, she’s no less human than you. But DJ has to realize that on the outside, she is as much a pony as I and that body had to come from somewhere.”

Nicole leaned back and emptied her glass; Elusive, ever the gentlestallion, refilled. “Forgive me for presuming, but it seems as though you’ve given it a lot of thought.”

“I have. I’ve also talked often with Aunt Sweetie Belle – she feels my mother had too much undue influence on Minty, which is why even if DJ makes up with my parents, that gulf may never be bridgeable. But my aunt also insisted I think things through rather than just take her opinion, and I’ve had time to formulate that. In a few months, I’ll be a father. My oldest sister is the mother of two quite extraordinary children in the history of both your race and mine – and the way things are, Mother and Father will never know those children. If it were me, I could never countenance that. And I’d like to see my sister overcome those fears, and I’d like to see the same with my parents. In the end, if I may be so bold, mother and daughter aren’t really as different as they seem to be.”

“So, sugarcube,” Apple Butter said, “y’d like t’ have our kids know their aunt, and she know ours. Ah reckoned there’s a reason Ah love ya.” She stretched forward with difficulty to nuzzle her husband, and other than the gesture, Nicole could easily see such a moment between Elusive’s parents, or DJ and her husband.

“Cole, I would very much appreciate it if you did something for me,” Elusive broached.

“Certainly.”

“When you see her again, please tell DJ that I would like to get to know her. That I bear no ill-will towards her, and I would very much love to get to know the older sister my aunts are so proud of. That I would like her to know my children. She doesn’t even have to make up with my parents; I hold no condition like that on her. But even if they don’t wish to acknowledge her, even if Minty would go the rest of her life without knowing her, I cannot do so and would not do that disservice to my unborn colts.”

“Two boys?”

He nodded. “That technology from this Earth – ultrasound? It’s going to be revolutionary in pre-natal care, I can assure you.”

“I’ll be glad to.”

“My thanks.”

The rest of the night was spent just breezily chatting. Elusive, surprisingly, had a thriving jewelry business and many of his creations were now appearing in human stores. He was also quite the shrewd businesspony, talking about various stocks on both Earths and dispensing advice. He especially found touching DJ’s interaction with Tsubasa; he found her generosity towards the younger pony to be very much like his mother, who was the virtual avatar of generosity on their world.

Finally, the restaurant had to close. Elusive and Nicole traded business cards, in the event that they needed to contact one another. As they parted, Elusive said, “You know I’m glad my sister has a friend like you.”

“How so?”

“1:38:06 – look it up on the interview. There’s a look there that says even with her parents’ love, her husband’s love and her foals’, that despite all her kith and kin, she feels all alone in the universe. With the people that she described, our family and you, someday she’ll realize that she’s never really been.”

Nicole didn’t know what to say to that, so she simply bid the ponies a good evening and headed towards the train. Tomorrow would be another day. Plus, she was going to have to figure out how she was going to explain all of this to DJ, anyway.

“Hey, DJ? Cole St. Germain from CBS. How goes?”

“Oh, hi! Haven’t heard from you in a couple of weeks. Earn that Pulitzer for my interview yet?”

“No, mainly because they don’t give out Pulitzers for television news – that’s what the Emmys are for, and yes, I already have one of those.”

“That’s great! Meanwhile, here on base, they showed it on AFRTS. I have to thank you; whoever did the editing managed to make me look like I’m not a total drooling idiot.” DJ laughed on the other end. “So what’s up?”

How do I tell you the brother you never knew wants to meet you? she asked herself. She was quiet for a few more moments before she gave a response – a lie. “Uh, I ran into Tsubasa yesterday. She wanted to know if I could get a hold of you. She, uh, needs advice. I think it’s guy problems this time.”

“I’m surprised – she could have just asked you; guys are guys are guys, after all.”

“True, but I think she probably should hear it from you anyway, if only just to avoid the same mistakes you did – if only so she can make all new ones.” Sorry, Luse – I’ll find some way to tell her. I promise, she said to herself as she and DJ set up a time when both could be there for the teen pegasus.

Hazy Jane II

Hiya, Mister! We don’t see many humans around this part of Canterlot. I know, most humans visiting Canterlot go to Northside, where all the stuff catering to non-ponies are. But I can tell you’re the adventurous type, likes to travel, see the worl—

Hey! Want a muffin? I like muffins. They’re kinda special to me. Really! Especially the blueberry ones. Would you like a blueberry muffin? Okay, here ya go!

See? I knew you’d like the blueberry muffin!

So what am I doing here? Oh, I’m…well, it’s kinda complex. My job’s to take care of the seno…sena…senerta…. Yeah, cenotaph! That’s the word. Hey, you’re pretty smart, Mister, knowing a big word like that. Oh, but what do I do here? Mainly I wash it twice a week, take care of the flowers, bring muffins by for everyone – the muffin part’s the best, let me tell you!

My name? Oh, it’s Hazy. Hazy Jane, but everyone just calls me Hazy. Yup, it’s my job to watch over the cenotaph for the House. Yeah, my house. House Campolina. I’m a nobbel…nohbul…noblemare! Lady Hazy Jane, Daughter of the Steward of House Campolina, at your service!

Would you like another muffin? Try the banana one this time. It’s my favorite!

Oh, my eyes? You want to know a secret? They’re special eyes. I know there’s a name for them…strabby…strawbis…. Strabismus? Yeah, that’s the word. Gee, you’re really smart, Mister! But yeah, I’ve got special eyes, because Mom says I’m just like her. No, not like her, like her her. Uh-huh, the one the cenotaph’s about.

Yes sir, it is shaped like a giant muffin! Muffins are very important to House Campolina! Some people even joke and call us House Crumpet, but I like House Campolina better, not that I don’t like crumpets or anything like that.

Yup, that’s a teslec…teco…telescope by the cenotaph! We put it there so that when you look through it and it’s a pretty day just like this one, you can see the graves from here. Why would you want to see the graves? Because that’s where they’re buried, Mister! House Lipizzan pays for the telescopes and always makes sure there’s some out here. They usually have someone from their House come by to help with the cenotaph or the graves when I can’t make it down there. They’re really nice, and this place is important to them too. Oh! There was this one time that the Duchess herself came down and spent all day with me, just passing out muffins! Duchess Rarity is really nice! You should meet her sometime!

Why muffins? Why not cupcakes or cross-an…croysa…croissants? Because they always loved them, and as a result, House Campolina always keeps the Muffin Promise! What’s the Muffin Promise? Oh, when you make a Muffin Promise and break it, you can’t eat muffins anymore for the rest of your life. It’s really serious, and that’s why House Campolina always keeps the Muffin Promise, so the Baroness Campolina will always have muffins at the grave and the cenotaph.

I miss her. I miss them all.

Who? The Baroness Campolina, of course – my Aunt Derpy. My cousins too: Sparkler and Dinky, both Ladies Campolina. They’re gone now…they’ve been gone for nearly twenty years now, and I’ve missed them every day and Mom does too.

You wanna hear the story?

You do? Oh, that’s great! I always like talking about Aunt Derpy and her daughters. Sparkler was like a big sister to me and Dinky was more than just my cousin, she was my best friend. But I guess I should start at the beginning, huh?

Well, Mom – her name’s Ditzy Doo, in case I hadn’t mentioned that – and Aunt Derpy were born in Detrot. They’re twins, so they looked alike, ‘cept Mom doesn’t have special eyes. Anyway, Gran-Gran always said that Mom got the looks while Aunt Derpy got the brains. Unfortunately, Mom didn’t think so at the time, she told me when she was younger she was always ashamed that Aunt Derpy used to fly into walls and be clumsy an’ stuff. Just like me, really.

But the thing is, Aunt Derpy was smart. Real smart. How smart? Well, one of Aunt Derpy’s friends is the Archmagus, Twilight Sparkle. She’s gotta be the smartest unicorn ever! Wrote lots of books and spells, head of the mage guild, Princess Celestia’s protor…protoss…personal apprentice! Anyway, Twilight said that Aunt Derpy was the smartest non-unicorn she ever knew and that had other ponies understood that, they would have treated her the way she deserved.

I know, that really doesn’t say how smart she was. But let me tell you how smart she was: in her spare time, she invented things. Things like microwaves, portable tape players, computers and stuff. But because other ponies didn’t know how they worked, they just laughed at it, called them junk. It wasn’t until we found your Earth that people started taking her seriously. There’s a computer keyboard – the Hoovesboard, they call it – that’s based on a design Aunt Derpy made. They’re calling her a genius now, but she deserved that while she was still alive.

But no one ever knew at the time. All they saw was how pretty Mom was and how clumsy Aunt Derpy was and that was that. Mom said at the time, she thought it was proof that looks were better, that being brainy didn’t matter if you were nothing but a dumb klutz. But she also told me that Aunt Derpy never paid attention to her, because she always had a smile and sunny outlook on life. They also used to fight a lot because of their differences, and Mom said that Aunt Derpy always forgave her though she never really deserved it; at the time, she just thought her younger twin sister was stupid and weak. It only got worse after Mom decided to skip going to college while Aunt Derpy got a full scholarship to MIT – you know, the Maresachussetts Institute of Technology! It’s almost entirely nothing but a unicorn school just like the Magic Academy, and Aunt Derpy was the first pegasus in generations to go there.

But that’s when things really changed for both of them: Mom met Dad – his name’s Autumn Mist – while working at the Rainbow Factory in Cloudsdale, and Aunt Derpy graduated with honors from MIT, but nobody wanted to hire her because she was clumsy and had her special eyes, so they couldn’t believe that her degrees in science and engineering were real. But Aunt Derpy wasn’t going to give up – she moved to a small town named Berryville and got a job as a mailmare while she worked on her own inventions. I think she was going to try to become an entrap…enterprise…self-made businessmare.

A few years went by and then I was born; I was the third of Mom’s kids. I…I really shouldn’t be talking bad about my Mom, but she admitted it herself: she, well, she said she tried to sleep her way up the corporate ladder, and I think Dad knew that some of my brothers and sisters really weren’t his; he loves them just the same, though. But Mom and Dad fought often, but Dad stuck by. Even with all the things Mom did, Dad stayed there for us. Mom said, though that at the time, she just kept it up because she thought Dad was being a pushover, not because Dad was being strong for his foals – whether they were really his foals or not.

Around the same time, over in Berryville, Aunt Derpy lived next door to this unicorn couple and their older daughter always looked injured or had strange burn marks; supposedly the rest of the ponies weren’t bothered because the unicorns made fireworks for a living. But Aunt Derpy wasn’t going to stand for it; she heard all the fights and like and when she got the chance, she got the town sheriff to investigate. Turned out that the parents were fighting and to calm down, they were abusing both the filly and her newborn sister. Aunt Derpy stepped in and got the mayor to get the court to have their parental rights taken away, while the parents were sent to jail for abuse. And then Aunt Derpy opened her house to them because they had nowhere else to go and nopony else to turn to. And a couple years later, she adopted Sparkler and Firecracker – that’s Dinky’s real name, by the way; Aunt Derpy just nicknamed her ‘Dinky’ because she was so tiny and cute and the name stuck.

Around the time when I was old enough to attend school, Dad got a promotion and became a shift manager for the main Rainbow Factory over in Cloudsdale. At the same time, the Royal Postal Service promoted Aunt Derpy to the Postmaster position at nearby Ponyville – the job paid more and she got the old Postmaster’s home just outside of town. It was just about that time, though, that Mom and Dad’s fights got worse, and eventually the three of us that could fly – me, Flutterwonder, an’ Orange Box – took the two that couldn’t – Morning Dew and Sunset Splash – and stayed with Aunt Derpy a lot. I know that just made Mom that much more angry and Dad said there were whole weeks Mom wouldn’t come home, but he knew where she was. I’ve never asked, but the look of shame and embarrassment Mom’s face has when they talk about it tells me everything.

But it was those times that Aunt Derpy became a second Mom to me. She said I looked almost like her, and I do, kinda: I got my gray coat from her and Mom and those special eyes, while my light pink – Dad calls it ‘dawn pink’ – mane, tail and my magenta eyes come from his side of the family. I think. I kinda get the feeling sometimes I’m one of the foals who’s not really Dad’s, but he’s the only Dad I have and he’s always been there, so even if I’m not he’s still my Dad. But anyway, I spent a lot of time there with Aunt Derpy, Sparkler and Dinky and it became my second home. There were whole weeks at a time that us five foals would live with them, and then Dad would come pick us up and said things were going to get better, but they never did and a couple weeks after that, we’d get sent to live with Aunt Derpy and my cousins again.

By that time, I’d earned my cutie mark and found I’d inherited Aunt Derpy’s skill with tech stuff. It’s funny: though me, Mom and Aunt Derpy all share the same cutie mark, Mom says hers means something way different than ours. Mom said at the time she thought it meant she had a cute and cuddly personality; now she says all it really meant is that she was an airhead. But Aunt Derpy once told me that hers meant that she saw things differently than other ponies and not just because of her eyes: when someone looked at a bubble, all they saw was a ball of soap holding air in temporarily. But Aunt Derpy saw the bubble’s construct, the air pressure needed to keep it in, the circumference, all that. Physics. Science. Albreg…agelbr…advanced mathematics. And she showed me how to do the same.

I have to also thank Aunt Derpy for making sure me and my sisters and brother got our education. Mom always thought education was a waste of time for fillies; after all, everything we ever needed in our adult lives was behind our tails as far as she was concerned. As for Dad, he was so tired from either fighting with Mom or working to cover two households – he maintained the one at home and helped Aunt Derpy with the costs for watching us all – that he never had the time. Fortunately, Aunt Derpy was a kind but firm taskmistress, making sure that we did our homework, studied for school and the like. It was enough to get Fluttsy into art school and now she’s a professional painter.

And then the day came when I was old enough to leave. By that time, Fluttsy left to go live in Seaddle, Orange moved all the way to Hoofalulu and Dewie and Splashie went to live with Dad’s sister over in Whinnypeg, just so Aunt Derpy wouldn’t have to deal with so much. As for me, I’d graduated from high school and decided to take Aunt Derpy’s advice. I applied to several universities and got accepted to San Caballo University. They have one of the few climatology schools in the realm. I mean, most pegasi can work on the weather patrols or the cloud and rainbow factories, but the climate – that’s where all the really exciting things happen. Imagine planning the weather patterns years and decades out, or suggesting to the princesses when a solar eclipse is needed, or a solar flare or the moon coming closer to the world to raise the tide higher than normal…it’s really exciting stuff, and that’s what I wanted to do. And because Aunt Derpy drilled that into me, I got accepted into the program.

And all the time, Mom just kept getting worse. I had another baby brother born, and Dad finally lost it and wanted to divorce her. Fluttsy, Orange and I all agreed that if something happened, we’d all back Dad – it didn’t matter if we didn’t know if he was really our father, we all felt he was. And as for Mom, well…Fluttsy said a bunch of things that I don’t think I should say in polite company, but Orange and I completely agreed with it.

But it was Aunt Derpy’s death that changed everything. Even nowadays, I don’t know the full reasons behind what happened to her. Dad said it was a rogue magic storm that hit their house by accident, but something tells me that there was more to the story. He wrote us all letters asking us to come back, because Mom needed us. At first I didn’t believe it; I don’t think my sisters did either. But we came back anyway. For Dad, and for Aunt Derpy and our cousins. They were always there for us no matter what, and we had to do the same.

The funeral…I really don’t wanna talk about this. No, I’ll be okay, thanks for asking. Mom was heartbroken. Funny that you don’t ever understand what you lose until it’s gone, and now that Mom’s greatest rival and twin sister was gone, she seemed to have nothing left. She kept crying for her sister, for everything that she’d lost. It was a shock to her that for someone who had lived for nothing but her looks and personality it was my Aunt Derpy who had true friends. And not just friends, important friends, VIPs – the kind Mom now sadly admits at the time she would have had sex with a hydra to have.

But it was Princess Celestia who had shocked everyone – in reward for paying the ultimate price to save an innocent, my Aunt Derpy earned a just reward. And at that point, the Princess put a hoof on the casket and announced my aunt to be Baroness Campolina, my cousins to be Ladies Campolina and that when the mourning period was over, the members of House Campolina would have to choose a new baron or baroness. I wanted to scream to the Princess that she could keep that title if I could have my aunt and cousins back and I know my sisters and brothers were thinking the same thing. I almost think that’s what Mom wanted to say to the Princess.

I’m sorry. I can’t help but cry. Thank you, you’re very kind – I appreciate this. I loved Aunt Derpy. She was my second Mom, the one I could always turn to when I could never deal with my real one. My cousins were family, but more than that. And I know I told myself plenty of times that I’ve gotten over it, but it’s still so painful. I don’t think I ever will.

No, after all these years, we’re still in mourning. I think Mom just doesn’t want to face that Aunt Derpy’s gone and that by choosing a new head of the House, she’ll truly be gone. But I think Aunt Derpy’s death had one good side to it: it made Mom realize that there were more important things in life than getting promoted at your job by sleeping with the boss. Since then, she’s tried to be the mother we wanted. It hasn’t been easy. Fluttsy, in particular, doesn’t want to forgive. Orange is trying, but I’m not sure she can. Dewie and Splashie are trying as well, and Firewire is the luckiest of us all – Mom is actually being a mom to him. As for me? I just don’t know what went wrong – between all of us, I mean. But I’ll try, for Mom.

Well, I’ve got to give out more muffins – I have to keep the Muffin Promise! I hope I’ll see you around again!

FROM: “Hazy Jane” hazy.jane@campolina.org.eq
TO: Gartside, Daniel dannyg@theelectronicpostman.co.au

SUBJ: Help

Danny,

I’m sorry I missed our annual vacation together. Things have been so crazy the past few weeks, and I…I just want to crawl into my bedroom and cry my heart out. You’ve been my best friend since the day we first met at the cenotaph, and I…I just need someone to talk to.

Do you remember when I told you that I often wondered if I was Dad’s real foal? That I loved him no matter what and he’d always be my Dad?

Turns out he really is my Dad. My mom, however….

I should probably explain. After twenty-five years of mourning, Mom finally took Princess Luna’s suggestion that it was time to find a new person to lead House Campolina, a true baron or baroness and not just a vague steward. Mom finally pulled all of us together and told us she would not become Baroness Campolina, because she hurt her sister so many times…and that the title should go to the person most deserving of it.

I’m still shaking from the news. After all these years, all those times I spent with her, my real mother was Aunt Derpy. About a year before I was born, Mom pissed off Dad fierce, and while she went off to go have another affair and basically live with the guy for a few months, Dad dropped my older sisters off at Gran-Gran’s and went off to talk to my aunt in the hopes that she could talk some sense into Mom. But it didn’t happen that way. Instead, they spent three weeks together before Aunt Derpy realized she was backstabbing her sister and just couldn’t do it anymore. She loved my father, had always done so from afar and was secretly angry with Mom’s callous attitude regarding him. But at the end of the day, he was still married to Mom, and not her. So she had to let go.

A year later, I was born. Since it was a period that Mom and Aunt Derpy never spoke, Dad had a dumb idea: Mom barely knew how many kids she had from other stallions; one more wasn’t going to hurt, right? But Dad’s stupid idea worked, believe it or not. And it worked right until the day Mom really got a look at me and knew. She just knew. But she couldn’t say anything, because to do so would have exposed all her trysts. So she reluctantly became my Mother.

She told me she was proud of me and that she loves me like her real daughters. But my brothers and sisters aren’t really my brothers and sisters. My aunt, the one I loved like a second Mom, was my real Mom. The times she wanted me to succeed in school wasn’t the maternal actions of a loving aunt; it was the maternal actions of a mare guiding the daughter she could never have.

I’m mad at both Mom and Dad right now. I don’t even know if I should call Mom “mom.” Or do I call Aunt Derpy that now? Were Sparkler and Dinky my cousins or sisters?

I need a friend I can trust, someone that I know will be impartial. If you can take time off from your band, I’d appreciate the visit.

Always your friend (Muffin Promise!)
- Hazy Jane, Baroness Campolina

FROM THE DESK OF
BARONESS CAMPOLINA

Danny,

Last night scared me.

You. Me. The diamond dogs.

I can’t believe they tried to do that. I can’t believe you tried to do that! Why? Are you crazy?

I know why – because they were trying to dig up Aunt Derpy’s and my cousin’s graves for the jewels Spike buried with her as his farewell gift to her. But I wasn’t expecting you to attack those…things…with your guitar! I mean, their jaws alone! They could have snapped you in two like a twig!

Did you really mean what you said? No, not the part about “Derpy deserves better than that!” That meant the world to me, that you’ve never even met her and here you were, trying to protect my aunt…my mother…I’m still not entirely sure how to phrase it. Maybe I just imagined it. Did I?

It’s good having a friend like you. I know, Mom teases me and keeps saying, “that human’s nice, and you could use a consort” but she’s just kidding. I think.

Oh! I wanted to ask you last night if your band would be willing to play at the opening of the Derpy Hooves Memorial Science Institute next month. It’d mean a lot to me. I wanted to give pegasi and earth ponies the chance to be inventors and entrepreneurs, too. The human world is changing us. We ponies have to keep up with our fellow sapients, or else we’ll be nothing but a drag on the world stage – two worlds, in fact. I’m hoping DerpSci (yes, that’s what I call it for short; I know the dean of the institute doesn’t like it, but hey, he didn’t pay for the whole thing like I did!) will let that pegasus or earth pony – even ones with strabismus and are clumsy – be the next Tesla. Yeah, I read about him, and it’s funny how much Nikola Tesla and Derpy Hooves were alike. I think they would have been great friends.

Heh. Fluttsy says if you let her know ahead of time, she’ll bake a huge amount of cupcakes for you all. I told her about the time Eric stole all those cupcakes I made for you, and she just laughed.

Um…Mom says she wasn’t kidding about what she said.

Well, we’ll talk when you get here.

Love always,
- Hazy

I had a dream last night. I dreamt Aunt Derpy told me everything. Funny, in the dream she said that maybe I wasn’t dreaming, that maybe she’d invented a machine that could send a message to my mind after coming up with one that would let her see my future. I know. It was weird.

But in the dream, she told me the truth. That she’d been in love with my Dad since the day she first met him and never told him so. That she was always jealous of Mom and how she treated Dad, when she would have treated him with the love and respect he deserved. And when she finally had him in her forelegs, she had to let him go, because she made a Muffin Promise to herself to treat him with that love and respect – and that meant letting him go and not getting him the cheap way.

She told me that she was proud of me, both as my aunt and as my mother in secret. That she wished she could have told me so while she was still alive, how Sparkler and Dinky deserved to know. And that she was proud that I’d taken in her shoes as Baroness and did what she couldn’t: the school and the patents for the things I’ve made over the years. I…unless it was a dream, how could she know about that?

And then just before the dream ended, she said that you did say what I thought you said: that you loved me. And that I needed to tell you the truth: that I’ve been in love with you for these seven years we’ve known each other.

So, I guess the question is: will you marry me? I’ve heard that with humans, females are usually the ones who get asked, not doing the asking. But, I’m the daughter of Derpy Hooves – so I know I can get away with being a little different.

Now get going on stage and show ‘em how it’s done, science-style. Meanwhile, I’m going to go talk to Scootaloo over there. She and her beau just tied the knot two months ago, so she might have a few ideas.

I mean, it’s not too early to plan, right?

FROM THE DESK OF
DUCHESS LIPIZZAN
MINISTER OF THE ARTS AND SCIENCES
KNIGHT ELEMENTAL, GENEROSITY

Dear Mr. Gartside, Baron Consort Campolina (you should get used to that address)

Thank you for making her happy. Hazy was beautiful up there today in her bridal gown, and I daresay you looked quite dashing yourself.

I’ve always wanted her to be happy. Her mother paid a dear price for me once, one I cannot go into detail about. But I have done my best to watch over Derpy’s daughter (she confided in me about it and made me both Muffin Promise and Pinkie Promise!) both for what her mother did for me and because Derpy was a very dear friend. Today, I am glad to say that my friend’s dearest wishes for her first daughter were fulfilled.

You’ve given me hope for your species. Now go kiss your wife and enjoy your honeymoon – Hoofalulu is quite the experience.

Kindest Regards,
Rarity, Duchess Lipizzan, KE-G
Minister of Arts and Sciences

Chemistry, Finale

Silver slowly opened his eyes. He felt as though he’d been run through the ringer. He couldn’t move certain parts, and the last thing he remembered…he didn’t remember the last thing he remembered. He couldn’t remember anything of the past few weeks. The room didn’t look familiar. None of this did.

“Hello, Doctor.” A unicorn stallion approached him, an older stallion, walking on all fours, likely an indicator that he was back in Equestria.

“Where….”

“My name is Dr. Apothecary. I was brought in to assist Dr. Cavell regarding your situation.”

Dr. Cavell? But then that would mean…. “But you’re…standing regularly.”

Apothecary smiled gently. “Ah, no, actually, I was bending down on all fours to pick up something that rolled under a health monitor when you awoke. It was quicker to walk to you the normal way than upright at that point.” The aged stallion reared to his hindhooves and stood there. “Is that more acceptable, Doctor?”

Silver would have laughed, but it began hurting the moment he started so he instead said, “So I’m still in Scotland? But this doesn’t look like the Royal Infirmary.”

“It doesn’t, because you’re not in Scotland. Due to the severity of your injuries and the need for impartiality in the medical staff, you were flown to London. Currently you’re in Barts…St. Bartholomew’s Hospital. I was sent from the Ministry of Health to assist the human doctors in your care. And I’ll be quite honest – it was a miracle you survived.”

“I just…I don’t remember anything, really.” A pause, trying to recollect something – anything. “I can’t remember anything from the past few weeks,” he finally admitted.

“I know. Temporary mental trauma. I’m a specialist in cranial and cerebral health spells, which is why I was brought in for your particular case. Your fillyfriend…sorry, I meant girlfriend told us all about it. Regardless of how you’re actually feeling, you’d better lie and let her know you’ll be fine, Doctor, because humans can be very overemotional, and she was completely distraught last night.”

“Moira’s here?” Something about that made him anxious, both in the good way and the bad.

“Along with your sister and her husband. They’ve been staying at a nearby hotel and are actually just outside right now. I’ll let them in.”

“Wait…Doctor…how bad is it? And do they know?”

Apothecary sighed. “I’ll be forthright, Doctor: your legs and several of your ribs – they’ve been shattered. Part of the reason you’re at Barts is because they have a state-of-the-art cloning facility here, and are creating a set of bones for ribs and your hindlegs and right foreleg. Otherwise, you would never walk again, on two legs or four. Additionally, part of your skull was crushed and we had to use an emergency healing spell to reduce the swelling and heal your skull; fortunately for you, it wasn’t so bad that it had to be replaced – those, I’m told, are some of the most dangerous procedures in human medicine. But in the process of all the spells I’ve been casting, you’ve had some memory loss due to clean up of brain hemorrhaging and associated trauma. It’s been quite an ordeal these past few days.”

“Past few days?”

“Yes. You’ve been comatose for about a week and a half now. As for your family, we had to tell them, seeing as how your sister is your next of kin; and your girlfriend was at the scene of the incident.”

“Incident?”

“I’ll let them explain.” He walked over to the door, opening it. “He’s awake.” Silver heard several gasps behind the door, sounds of relief. “Please, be cautious – he’s probably still in quite a bit of pain.” He stepped aside and let two females and a male enter the room.

Moira wanted to jump at him, take him in her arms and just never let go; only the touch of his sister kept her from doing so. “You’re alive….” she said, tears of joy streaming down her face. She dropped to her knees, putting her head on the bed,

“I could be better,” he rasped.

“You know, baby brother, if you wanted me to come visit you so badly on human-Earth, you could have just told me about Moira,” Cheerilee said, her green eyes red from crying nearly as much as Moira had been. At the moment, she was wearing a blouse and skirt, one she looked good in – Silver always knew his sister always had good fashion sense.

“Heh, and they call me Lucky,” his brother-in-law said. “Man, when we heard what you went through, it’s a miracle you survived.” Cheerilee’s husband Lucky was a simple stallion who worked a construction job; as a result, he was already used to wearing clothing for safety reasons. As of now, he was in a t-shirt, jeans and boots. “But they got the guy, dontcha worry.”

“Lucky!” Moira turned to admonish the gray stallion. “He doesn’t need to know aboot that!”

“I’m sorry, but Lucky’s right,” Cheerilee said, leaning forward and down to hug her brother’s girlfriend, “I’m sure someone from the authorities will come to ask him about what happened.”

“I saw everything, I’ve already talked to the Grampians,” Moira said. She saw the look in his eyes, then finally relented. “It was a driver, a hit-and-run. The arse-banger was dusted up and ran through several zebra crossings with his car and you were the third person he hit. If the Grampians hadn’t crashed one of their own cars into his….” Moira paused to focus; her love had been cut down, but worst of all was that it was one of her own kind, a human completely flying high on cocaine that had nearly ended Silver’s life. “The Gramps had enough t’ put the bleedin’ fucker down.”

Focusing on her brother, Cheerilee said, “Silver, I won’t lie. You’ve got a long road ahead of you, and Fluttershy took time off from her busy schedule to swing by our house to talk to us about what’s going to happen. The Crown will keep you on the payroll, but as of now your job is to get healthy. Once the operations are done and the doctors give you a clean bill of health, you’ll be able to return to Aberdeen if you’d like to start the healing process there. They’ve sent in another group of medical students now – by the way, you’ve been graduated, so now you’re Dr. Silver Suture, T.H., M.D.”

“Isn’t that great?” Moira said, looking at him. “We’ll get you right as rain in no time flat, love.” She rested her head on the bed, as she planned to cuddle the entire bed while he was on it.

Lucky grinned. “Looks like somepony broke you to the halter, huh?”

Cheerilee grinned; she’d been waiting so long for her baby brother to find someone, but she never thought it’d be a human. Ah, well, humans had been in their lives for nearly ten years now, and so if this hadn’t happened to him, it probably would have to someone she knew. And Moira was a nice mar—er, woman and from the look on Silver’s face, he still felt as if he hadn’t quite realized how lucky he was to have someone in his life.

“Moira,” he commented, “this is humiliating.” His face burned with embarrassment. Just a couple of weeks ago, he could walk, dance, all those things that came so naturally. And now here he was, not even able to get out of bed without her assistance. Of which she was still in his bed, the difference being that he was now there, too.

“Don’ give me that,” she tsked, helping him get dressed and such, then out of bed and into the wheelchair. Having her dress him, well – he quickly learned why human nudity taboos were in place and adopted that habit really quickly.

She smiled as she looked down. “Ah…you’re well-built for a man. I like that.”

Silver blushed; it was far more straightforward than he’d ever expected. “Um…could we talk about something else?”

“You should be proud of your johnny. I’d keep it safe for you.”

“Moira….”

“Well then,” she said studiously, changing the subject if only to ease his burning embarrassment, “Today’ll be my last day at the school. They’ll be giving me the big sendoff, they will.” Seven years of teaching at Aberdeen Grammar, and now she was moving on to the next stage of her life: bartending. The job paid far less, but Miguel’s father-in-law guaranteed the job and it would give her free reign to take care of Silver during the day. Furthermore; with Silver’s comfortable salary, they were still well ahead.

“You don’t have to do this for me, Moira,” he said. “You should do things for yourself. Have your own life.”

“I told you, ya git! You’re my life now. We’re doin’ this together, and I’m not walking up the aisle with you in a wheelchair, got it?”

When did we decide we were getting married? I still haven’t even decided we’re dating!

Completely lost as to his thought patterns, she unfolded his wheelchair. He had an old fashioned hand-dragged one, as it wasn’t expected that he’d been it for long. As she helped him into it, a thought came to him, an honest one. “You know, I don’t know what I’d do without you here.”

She helped him into the wheelchair, then slid into his lap, playfully tapping him on the muzzle with a finger. “Ah, you’d probably win the heart of some other axie, love,” she said. “But I got you first. Property rights, y’know.”

He was still as confused as he arrived for the first day of his physical therapy. He’d talked to the doctor, a human physical therapist, and he went over the regimen that they’d be working on together, both on four legs and two. After a grueling first session, he barely managed to wheel himself out of the facility before Moira was there to meet him. Off together they went to the pub, even if he really wasn’t up to being social, but their friends wanted to see him.

He ended up sitting in his usual corner, sans books for a change, musing over some beers with Miguel. “So, heard you had your first session. I thought you were a unicorn and a doctor – healer, heal thyself?”

Silver laughed bitterly as he took a sip of his beer – he’d gotten used to it and now actually preferred it over the cider. “Just doesn’t work that way. There are plenty of spells I can cast on myself, but one as intensive as healing my legs isn’t one of them. No, I must do this the old-fashioned way.”

“Well, at least you have Moira to help you with it. She’s given up a lot for you. That’s what love does,” Miguel said, watching the barmaid deftly handle the evening’s crowd. “I can tell you she’s picked up running a bar like she was born for it, moreso than I.”

“Yeah, but I wonder if it’s wrong to have her leashed to me like that.” Silver opted not to tell Miguel that he felt nothing for her, and that he’d have to find an easier way to break it to her gently; perhaps the Spaniard could indirectly assist with that.

No such luck. “My friend, I’m guessing you’re feeling…well, nothing when you’re with her, am I correct?”

“Um…well, yes.”

“That’s perfectly natural. Both of you have been through traumatic events in the past year or so, and so it’s natural to feel down – you’re still going through your trial, while you’ve helped Moira through hers already. Let her help you, and you’ll see, el amor florecerá.”

“And you’re sure about this?” Silver winced inwardly, knowing this had been the wrong path to take.

“Of course I’m sure. You see, there’s a natural order to things: the Americans are nearly omnipotent; the French have their food; the Germans their beer; the Italians their sportscars; the Koreans their technology; and the Brazilians, football. But it is we Spanish, ah, yes – we Spanish have the corner when it comes to love. Trust me, you’ll see. When you least expect it, it will hit you.”

“Oi! Keep up, y’ bleedin’ tosser!”
“Nik, ‘sat the only words you know, ya poofta?”
“Kin’ell, Roger, yer hardly better!”

Silver tried really hard not to laugh at his friends’ antics. Now that he was out of the wheelchair after four months, now came the part about regular mobility outside the controlled environment of a treadmill. Unfortunately, there had been some nerve damage and human medicine was not yet at the point where nerves could be completely repaired. As a result, when upright, Silver would need to use a cane for the rest of his life, and when on four, he’d be forever lame. It was a hard reality to take, especially since he’d spent a lot of time running through the Whitetail Woods in his youth.

“Something wrong, duck?” Moira asked. She was with him today in the cold Aberdeen autumn air as he walked on the cobblestones. The cane, a nice oak shaft with a pewter pommel at the end, was perfect for his hoofspace and a treasured gift from his friends. But it was also a reminder that his days had changed.

“Leg hurts,” he mumbled, too conflicted to say anything more. Why did she continue to stay with him? He’d all but voiced that he didn’t want a relationship with her. Maybe he should have, but he just couldn’t say anything that would hurt her; she was still a friend, regardless and one he could never repay for all she’d done for him. Maybe she thought it was payback for when he’d helped her though her problems, but that was never on his mind.

In turn, she kissed him gently; he tried his hardest not to flinch when she did. “That’s for courage!” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

Miguel, standing next to his wife, clapped. “See? Didn’t I tell you, hermano? You’re on top of the bloody world now! Enjoy!” Not too far off, the three barflys continued their amiable jibing and teasing, all at Silver’s expense.

The others, watching, cheered the stallion and wished the couple a happy future as he was helplessly bonded to a girl he cared nothing for.

“Got it!” She ran around the flat like a woman triumphant.

“Got what?” he asked.

She held up a paper as if it were her most valued piece of treasure. “The immigration authority, y’ lug! I’ve got permission t’ immigrate to Equestria so that we can be together when you head back!”

His eyes widened. When the hell did she…? Did I? D…. His mind was swimming. He’d been pronounced all in the clear now, far faster than anyone had been expecting. He’d spent the remainder of the year at the hospital polishing his so-called “people skills” so that he could talk to humans regarding medical issues as easily as he did with his own kind. The Medical Service already informed him that upon his return, he’d be assigned to Canterlot General’s Human Medicine Wing at Northside; it was a new annex of CanterGen that was being built to accommodate the large number of humans that regularly patronized the human district of the capital city.

But first, he needed to clear the air with her, and now, he was going to have to be brunt about it – no other way. It was a shame, he really liked her, but as a pony and a human, it would never work out. Just too different, too many obstacles to overcome.

“Moira,” he started, leaning back in his chair.

“Y’ don’t even have to say it, duck. Of course I’ll m—watch out!”

Silver had leaned too far back and now completely lost balance. He tried to reach out for the table, but it was distant enough to need fingers to catch onto, and possibly too far even for the average human. Down he fell, fast and sure, and by the time he thought of using his magic to right him, he slammed against the floor, even as the wooden chair decided it had enough of its years and shattered underneath his weight, letting the back of his head collide painfully against the floor.
There was a brief spin of black and a flash of red.

--S lv an o hea m ?

--H w an ing rs m ho di up?

--Silv r, sa s eth ng!

His head spun. He could feel blood in his nose, in his mouth. His eyes boiled with a dozen pinpricks of sensation. And in the back of his head, he remembered Moira’s warning that he needed to get the chair fixed before it broke – procrastination didn’t help him in this case.

Silver!

He could hear Moira’s voice, as if she were screaming through ten miles of cotton. He couldn’t see much of anything at first, but then his vision cleared…

…and he stared at the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life. Moira’s face, etched with concern. Her eyes, so filled with worry, yet at the same thing so incredibly, amazingly alluring. He tried to speak and found that he couldn’t quite get the words to come out the way he wanted them to. He couldn’t smell a thing, the blood clotting in his nose blocking that, and he still felt—

She leaned down and kissed him. This time, he joined in, hungrily, eagerly; he couldn’t stop himself. He pulled her closer to him and they collapsed on the floor, sharing love until they stopped.

She smiled at him. “I knew. I always knew you would, someday.”

Someday, what? Then it hit him. He couldn’t smell a damn thing. Including the pheromones. Pheromones that had been blocking his mind, not only turning him off from an obvious attraction to her, but indeed, making him think it was quite the opposite; only his growing love for her, manifesting as a beleaguered friendship was what kept the forces of biology at bay.

“How did….”

“Your eyes. It was always your eyes, they never lie,” she said, leaning against him. “Even when you were denying it to yourself, your eyes always showed the truth. You just had to know it for yourself, beat your biology.”

“Then how do I know that five minutes from now I won’t?”

“Even if you do, five minutes from now, your memory’s there. We can beat this together, love. We can be together.” And with that, they kissed again. He suddenly felt nauseous, wanting to move away, but with everything in his mind, he focused on her instead, going into the kiss, ignoring every command of genetics that his and her biology had imbued in them since the days of their equine and primate ancestors, so many ages past. He ignored those ultimatums in favor of his newly-found heart, and the heart won. The flee-or-fight instincts gave way to nothingness, defeated utterly. Never again would he be held in thrall by chemistry.

He rubbed her cheek. “I love you, Moira,” he said. “So, shall we get married?”

“No time to plan a formal wedding,” she sighed.

“No, but we have friends, we have family, and we have to get it done before we move to Equestria so it’ll be easier for you,” he smiled.

“Oh, the gaffer warned me I was going to be skippin’ out on the vicar someday, and damned if he wasn’t right,” Moira said. Getting up to her feet, she pulled him up to his. “Well, we’ll worry about that in the morrow. For now, we’ve got some catching up to do.”

And with that, the pair – a couple at last – went off to the bedroom.

“Excuse me,” a new voice said. “Are you open this early in the morning?”

“Och, absolutely,” Moira said, as she wiped off the bar, before turning to face the voice. “So, what’ll be your pleasure, Mist—” She looked at the human who walked in. “Your accent, American or Canadian?”

“Canadian – I’m from Swift Current,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting to see a British pub here, especially one with a name like The Meddling Spaniard.”

Moira laughed. “I named it after a friend of mine back home in Scotland. And here in Northside, where most of the humans in Canterlot live, you need a little something of home to remind you once in a while.”

“Sometimes,” he said, grinning. “As for me, I like to travel. It’s why I’m part of his year’s FiMPro.” He proffered his hand. “Marty Robinson. World’s Best Juggler.”

The woman at the bar took and shook. “Moira MacLeish.”

A look came over his eyes. “So, single?”

She grinned. “Sorry, but you’re too late – married to the wonderful stallion buried in the books over there.” She pointed to the table and the well-dressed stallion, hitting the books.

“A stallion? But I thought human/pony relationships only worked between men and mares.”

The redhead feigned modesty. “I’m rather special.”

The juggler sighed. “Day late and a loonie short, story of my life. Ah, but I’ll manage somehow.”

“So would you care for a cider? Got Sweet Apple Acres and Apple Valley Orchards on tap.”

Robinson shook his head. “Oh, that stuff’s a little lot too strong for me. Got anything else?”

“Yup, just got in an import of Guinness on tap and McEwans in the bottle.”

Robinson sidled up to the bar. “A Guinness, if you don’t mind. Nothing beats tap.”

She grinned. “A man with a wise decision. Let me get that for you.”

Watching from his table in the corner of the bar, Silver looked up from this voluminous pile of books and grinned. These last few years, it had been nothing less than magical – originating from human Earth, no less.

He was now casting a daily spell on himself to inhibit his sense of smell; essentially giving him the sniffles on a regular basis. At first his friends and family thought it was weird, but he told them it was the only way to block the subconscious signals coming from the pheromones. Dr. Apothecary, when he heard about it, laughed and said he’d make a request to the Mage Guild that an acetic inhibitor spell be created. In any case, now that he’d cracked the case, he’d given many a stallion hope for a relationship with human women – and, to the discontent of mares not interested in finding relationships with humans, made the odds even worse. But once he was firmly ensconced in his relationship with her, he realized that fondness for her was love all along, and gave the girl who had already been in a relationship a chance, soon finding that it wasn’t so bad having a human girlfriend. And then, two months later, the moving vans came to pick up his stuff for the trip to Canterlot. The last thing they did in Scotland was a quick and short marriage with a justice of the peace. It was rushed and haphazard, and somehow perfect for both of them. And now, here they were, in the land he, and now she, called home.

One big change when they arrived in Canterlot was her decision to open a bar of her own. All the human drinking establishments in Northside to date were of the North American “sports bar” type, distinguished only by if the owner was rooting for an American or Canadian team. Well, it was clear that they needed a proper bar, and with a little help from Miguel and his wife, who spent a couple of months here to help Moira plan for her new endeavor, and the once-unhappy teacher was now a very happy bar owner.

The sex wasn’t bad either, he thought; she was a definite kitten in bed, and she later admitted to him it was the fact that he wasn’t human that had helped her to recover from her trauma. Had he been human, she might have been too afraid to take that step in their relationship, to love each other the way couples did. But her pain was gone now; and now all that was in her life was a love that that they’d have for the rest of time.

Looking at from the bar, she waved at him and he waved back. She then came over and brought him a drink, Sweet Apple Acres Premium Reserve. “Now, don’t drink all our profits,” she said, laughing, kissing his horn teasingly, before nuzzling him – it was something that she was getting used to, but she did it because it made him smile.

“Who has time?” he laughed, holding up a book. “I’m having enough time as is trying to memorize these new healing spells and trying to familiarize myself with the new ICD-17. I thought the spells would be hell – I swear, Archmagus Sparkle must have nothing better to do with her free time than make more spells – but the ICD-17? Adding pony and gryphon ailments and the zoonotic diseases? If I was reading this in my office at the hospital, I wouldn’t be home for a whole week.”

“I’m telling you, you’re going to kark it if you don’t take a break. Stop knackering yourself!”

He was about to comment, when a magic letter appeared; he snagged it out of the air before she even realized it was there. Reading it, he grinned. “There. This make you happy?”

She took the letter and was confused; it was written in spellscript, the odd language that was only known to spellcasters as a precaution against accidental spell misfires. As she was illiterate in it, she was just completely confused. “And this means what to me, y’ radgey git?”

“It’s not a spell; I just used spellscript to hide all the stuff. How’s a vacation to Hoofalulu sound? Think about it: sandy beaches, scenic views, plenty of time away from Canterlot, where we can spend time alone and think about having a family, like you wanted….”

Her eyes widened, and then she gave him a loving smile. Then she got called back to the bar, pausing only to blow him back a kiss. There’d be time to be lovey-dovey later with her stallion, her beloved husband.

She grinned. 1.7 to 1 here, 1.01 to 1 back home. Way she saw it, she’d just pissed off every single mare in Equestria for taking one of their most precious resources. After all, she said with a nostalgic grin, that’s what payback was about, wasn’t it?

Welcome Home, Part Two

In the offices of Lincoln, Lincoln & Phillips, two lawyers sat across from each other, going over paperwork. The first one, a well-kept man in his mid-40s, looked over a bunch of paperwork from the Department of Homeland Security. Seeing DHS paperwork was new; especially from the US Citizenship and Immigration Services. Amazingly, they didn’t have any of the documentation regarding the smoozing either, and briefly considered the town of Ponyville a hotbed of illegal aliens before someone from the Justice Department coughed up the necessary paperwork.

His counterpart, across the way, fidgeted with nervous energy as he seemed to be going over two entirely different sets of paperwork at once. With a long, unruly mop of dark, curly hair and a bouncy personality, he reminded Paul of a Hispanic male variant of Lyra’s friend Pinkie Pie. The fact that the remains of a cup of double-espresso mocha and a box of donuts sat in front of him probably made this more pronounced.

“So, DOJ really didn’t give the paperwork over to DHS when INS got broken into BCIS, ICE and CBP?”

“Okay, that’s a sign you’ve been working in politics too long: when you start speaking more acronyms than English,” Paul accused.

Carlos chuckled. “Yeah, tell me about it. My wife keeps telling me the same thing, but I keep explaining that’s all a part of the disease that’s politics. Then when she really wants to get me in trouble, she calls DJ and Erica and the three of them spend hours on the phone at my expense.”

“Now that sounds entirely too familiar: when I want to get Lyra to do things when she’s being at her most obstinate, I usually call Harper and we just talk about her baby pictures. Amazing how that seems to get her to stop fairly quick.” The two men shared a laugh for a bit before Paul shook his head and said, “You know, when I was a teenager, if you told me that a decade later I’d meet the woman I’d marry, that was odd enough. But for her to be non-human and married to someone else at the time?”

“She was?”

“Yeah – Lyra’s about seventeen years older than me, and she’d been with her prior spouse just as long. I met her just as her relationship was on the verge of divorce. We got together and it was about five years after we met that we got married. Life’s been great since. But I have to admit: it makes me think of those ponies in Missouri and how many connections they’ve missed in their lives because they’ve been trapped here in our world. There’s this one unicorn I met, filly by the name of Lavender Dreams. She’d just gotten engaged the month before they got smoozed and for all this time, she wondered what happened to her betrothed – did he wait for her or not? Fortunately for her, true love won the day and he’s actually been waiting for her all this time, but how many other stories are like that? Not many, I’m guessing.”

“Yeah, that kind of wait is just bad news for folks.” An unpleasant look crossed Carlos’ face. “I just had a horrible thought: do you know what kind of hell this would be for both governments – and the Senator’s campaign, since I’m now involved – if this news got out?”

“Oh, crap – I hadn’t thought of that. If this gets out the wrong way, it’s going to bring up images of Nazi actions and US internment camps – especially since this year’s the 100th anniversary of the end of World War II. I think I’d better talk to some of our public affairs folks so we can keep this under control.”

It was just at that point that the phone built into the table rang. Paul tapped a finger on the table’s surface, cueing the command to answer the phone. “Yeah, Beth, what’s up?”

“I’ve got a couple of attorneys here from Amnesty International here to see you for your conference. Something about the Ellington case – I don’t have that in our docket. You know what that’s about?”

Both men gave each other the same look: Did you call them? I certainly didn’t. When they realized that, they knew someone was playing games. “Um, yeah. Can you get us their names?”

“Sure.” A pause. “A Ms. Zadi and a Ms. Weisberg.”

“Crap, someone put the word out,” Carlos said. “If that’s Sabrina Weisberg, we’re going to have problems. She’s part of Governor Davies’ presidential campaign. She’s brutal, ruthless and out for blood.”

“You must really hate her then,” Paul sympathized.

“Um….” Carlos said sheepishly before admitting, “She’s my wife.”

Before Paul could say anything further, his secretary escorted the two women in. Zadi, turned out, wasn’t a woman, but a mare, specifically a zebra mare, standing there in a business suit, wearing glasses and her mane done in a modern style as opposed to the traditional Mohawk. Next to her in an almost exact getup and hair style was a tall redhead, a knowing smirk on her face.

“Well, dear,” the redhead said sweetly, “had I known you were involved with this, I would have just asked Zadi to meet us here.”

“Oh, I don’t know, I thought we had a productive little chat over breakfast, Bree,” the zebra commented with a smile.

Paul looked at her oddly. “Uh…you weren’t—”

Zadi sighed, rhyming, “If I always talked in rhyme, I’d be annoying all the time.” She smiled before adding, “Sorry, Mr. Phillips, I’m not a traditionalist. My mother’s been in the diplomatic corps for the longest time, so I was born and raised in Canterlot and went to college here in the United States. Let me tell you, it drives my grandmother up the wall that I don’t use the rhyming patois; my grandmother, Zecora, is a noted scholar of zebra magic, Zebrababwean Swahili, and of course the rhyming patois.”

“Ladies, please have a seat,” Paul said, getting the feeling that this was probably going to be a very brutal meeting.

Bree saw that look. “Mr. Phillips—”

“Paul.”

“Okay, Paul, I want to get something out in the air, just in case Carlos hasn’t mentioned it already. Yes, he’s GOP and I’m a Democrat. Yes, he thinks of Senator McAllister as an uncle, and I’m Governor Davies’ granddaughter. Yes, Carlos and I can be very brutal to each other on the clock – and have been. But we leave it at the door when we get home. I can argue just about every point about how much I vehemently disagree with him on, for example, his friendship with ‘the alien girl’, quote unquote. But after the day is over, the mask comes off and we talk about how much I really adore DJ. Think of us as a modern-day Matalin and Carville, and that’s how our life goes, and as long as you understand that, we’re okay.”

Paul nodded. Maybe this meeting wasn’t going to be as bad as it first seemed.

“Now that that’s out the way,” Zadi started, “let’s talk about the concentration camp the US and Equestria have set up in the middle of bum fuck Missouri and if Princess Celestia’s been reading up on how to be the next Hitler.”

“If you gentlemen act now,” Bree added, “you might just be able to convince the Senator to pull his campaign out of this mess before Governor Davies’ campaign decides to completely humiliate the frontrunner’s status.”

On second thought, this meeting’s probably going to be worse, he mentally revised.

“So, Sergeant Roughwind—”

“Mr. Roughwind,” the pegasus said. “I stopped being a guardspony a long time ago, Archmagus. And frankly, I’ve done my time, I suffered for mistakes that I made and ones that I was hung out to dry for. One of my closest friends was killed in this, nearly twenty years ago now. And I am no longer the man – that is, pony – that I used to be. So I’d appreciate it if you’d tone it down a little.”

Sitting directly across from him, Twilight Sparkle huffed. This was one stallion she never wanted to see again and truth be told it was all she could do before she was tempted to reach over the table, grab the smarmy stallion and start bucking his brains in. This was only the third time she’d ever come across him, but she already hated him with a passion she tried hard to keep from her face. She hated him because he’d hurt somepony very dear to her, somepony that still suffered even today. Plus, he was hiding a secret, a secret that could cause more pain and misery. The stallion, like his black coloring, was nothing more than darkness and depravity, as far as she was concerned.

She looked around the diner they were in, briefly. There were various members of the FBI, Missouri Highway Patrol and the Mage Guild’s Law Enforcement Division either talking to each other or standing warily. As Roughwind was not under questioning for any crimes or the like, they met him at his office, the temporary Town Hall area of the diner. That had turned out to be a blessing in disguise, as because she was in a public place, it kept her from exploding at the pegasus several times.

“For the purposes of this discussion you are still bound by your duties to the Crown and your oath to the Guard—”

“What duties and oath? You mean to a government that says I never existed and an organization that no longer exists, at least not the way I knew it?” He paused. “Archmagus, need I remind you this isn’t about me? I know you hate me. God knows it took years for me to stop hating myself. I’ve got a lot to make up to that poor filly, I know, but that’s between me, her and the ambassador, who’s taking care of that.”

“It is my business, Roughwind. The pony in question is my niece.”

“Yeah, well if it’s personal business, then you need to detach yourself from it. That’s what professionalism is all about,” he said, smiling without its positive attributes.

“So, you dragged me out here just so you can sit there and be smug about what you did?”

“Well, for starters, you came out here of your own accord – I had zero interest in meeting with you. Second, regardless of what I did to that girl back then, and I’m not excusing it, what you did to the 37th is nothing less than reprehensible. I was guilty. My teammates were guilty. Even though we were given orders that the Crown hung us out to dry for, we made errors of our own and traumatized a young filly. For that, we paid. But the rest of the 37th? They were innocent and they got hung out to dry just because we were attached to their unit. The worst thing was? My group rarely worked with the main portion of the 37th, because our main job was to be Princess Luna’s guards. Now, if you’re here just to glower at me, we’re done. But if you’re here to help those who really need it? Come back when you actually want to talk.”

Twilight stood and walked away from the table before she decided to shred the thing down to its component molecules with her magic.

“Well, that went smoothly,” Lyra drawled as Twilight approached her. “Is there anything else of my work that you’d like to set back a few decades, Twilight?”

“Not right now, okay, Lyra?” Twilight snapped. “That stallion’s being a complete pain!”

“From what I can see, you’re not helping things either,” the celeste unicorn retorted. “Look, we might not have been the best of buddies growing up, but you forget that we’ve known each other since we were five. And I can honestly say that despite all the good you’ve done, all the aid and prosperity you’ve brought and everything you’ve accomplished, you are not and never have been a master of social interactivity. You are just not a ponies pony.”

“But he—”

“—was ordered to rescue Sandalwood then got creative. And for that, he traumatized DJ, watched one of his closest friends get shot and killed, had the people who ordered them here abandon him then set him up to take the fall. And then he was sentenced to ten years in prison and exiled from his homeland never to return. I’m not defending his actions, Twilight, but the stallion has paid his dues. Granted, Roughwind will never end up on my Christmas card list—”

“Christmas card list?”

“Yeah. It’s a human thing.”

“I know that, but…isn’t your husband Jewish?”

“You’re sidetracking; stop it. Anyway, from I know of talking to people around here, his life has changed since he got out of prison ten years ago. I’ve even talked to DJ and while she doesn’t have the time to meet with him – apparently she, Mike and the kids are leaving in a week to go to Mike’s new assignment in Japan – she sounded like she would have been willing to.”

“Okay, now I know that’s a lie – I love DJ dearly, but she’s not exactly the most forgiving of ponies.”

“You know, sometimes I think you forget that she’s got a human mindset – and trust me, from being married to one for over fifteen years now, humans can be very mercurial and she definitely leans towards the extreme end even for humans. But it also means she can surprise you, and I think this is one of those times. But the end result is, if DJ is willing to give this guy a shot, why can’t you?”

Twilight seemed to deflate at that. “I don’t think you understand, Lyra: it’s not about forgiveness. It’s about catching the ponies that did this to the members of the 37th. They deserve justice for being wronged.”

Lyra sighed. “No, it’s about making sure the former members of the 37th have their wrongs readdressed and solved, not for Crown barristers to rack up accolades. I remember a mare who always used to talk about love and friendship and cared about solving problems that way before thinking about beating the criminals. What happened to her?”

Twilight was quiet before saying, “Adulthood. Being in command. Seeing to Cinnamon’s education – that filly’s nearly as smart as Derpy. Always needing to be the perfect idol, just like Celestia.”

“You’re not an alicorn, Twi. Even you need a break.”

“I take them, occasionally. But let’s get back on track here. And maybe you’re right, that I’ve been thinking of the criminal too much and not enough about the victims. But…I just don’t trust him.”

“And at one time, we didn’t trust Zecora and I don’t think you need to be reminded about the results of that mess. He is not the same pony that committed the crime ages ago and he genuinely wants to help those who were smoozed here. If you ask me, above everything else, we owe them our concern.”

Twilight smiled. “When did you get to be so wise?”

“Being married twice has its learning experiences,” she replied off-handedly. “Now go be a problem solver, O Archmagus.”

With that, Twilight returned to the table. “So, the 37th. You really want to help them?”

Roughwind looked at the unicorn mage as if she were stupid. “Didn’t I just tell you that?”

She leaned forward on the table, resting her head in her hooves. “Then start giving me names.”

“Hey,” he said, shaking an accusing hoof at her, “I said no stipulations and I meant it!”

“Oh, I think you’ll agree with this one: because if I don’t make an arrest first, then that gives the pony or ponies in question time to cover their tracks, and by the time we get whomever from the 37th back to Equestria, they’ll be hunted all over again, with much worse. I don’t know how much you know of what’s occurred in Equestria since First Contact, but we’ve had a general increase in crimes. We had humans on a killing spree the year after your trial. Five years ago we had a serial killer – a pony, no less – who was going after humans living in Equestria. If that can happen, then I assure you anyone who wants it to happen to innocents will ensure that it does.”

“I…I didn’t think about it that way.”

“I didn’t think you would. The Equestria you left behind is much changed place. But we believe in the same things in the end: caring about the innocent, the needy and our loved ones. And if you still believe in all that…and the evidence indicates you do…then it’s up to you to make the decision.”

“I…I, uh….”

“Don’t answer that right now. It’s clear that you need some time and space to think things out. Tell, you what: we’ll start this again tomorrow and see if you’re willing to play ball.”

“Thank you kindly. I’ve still got a business to run. We’ll talk…later.”

The look on Bree’s face was livid. “You…you outmaneuvered me!”

“Well, that’s what happens when you start playing with the big boys, ladies. It tends to give you a new perspective.”

From her chair, Zadi grinned. “Mr. Salazar, if you weren’t married, I’d kiss you.” She looked over at her friend, and realized that was probably the wrong thing to say. “Apologies, Bree. But your solution, gentlemen: I can’t quite speak for my superiors, but I think I can safely say Amnesty International would be very willing to agree to this solution.”

“You know he’s never going to accept this,” Bree accused.

Paul asked, “Why not? It’s a bipartisan effort, it prevents anyone from looking bad…well, anyone not currently in office, that is. Hell, it’ll make both contenders look like problem solvers!”

Bree stood up and slammed her fist angrily on the table. “But it makes the Mendoza administration look bad!”

Carlos shrugged. “How so? It was during the Fitzgerald administration – a GOP one, I might add – that the deal between the DOJ and the Equestriani government was enforced and the 37th Combined Guard Cohort exiled to Missouri…which, if I recall correctly, was also under the leadership if a two-time Republican governor at the time.”

“But our side ordered it!”

“And President Fitzgerald’s administration enforced it, when someone could have just said ‘this is wrong.’ But no one did, and here we are,” Paul answered. “And now, with Oregon Governor Bob Davies and Virginia Senator Tyson McAllister stepping into the fray, well, it puts an end to the conspiracy that several administrations have been lying about.”

“But it’s happening during the Cantwell administration – the one in office right now! That makes the Democrats look bad and the Governor won’t be able to count on the President’s poll numbers!”

“And had this happened eight years ago, during the Jindal administration, would you be as eager to point that out?” Carlos grinned, waiting for an answer. When one didn’t come, he commented drily, “I thought not. Well, look at it this way: he can either get on board, or in thirty minutes – yes, I said ten minutes – the Senator will be reading a slight change to the speech he was going to give tonight to the National Association of Police and Firefighters. Your campaign’s decision will decide which one he reads.”

Both spouses looked at each other, and she looked at him with a withering glance that would have virtually emasculated him had he not been armed with the shield of smugness. Finally, the woman hung her head in defeat; she knew when she was outclassed. “Fine. The governor won’t like it, but I’ll get him to agree to it. At the very least, it will help him to clear out some of the front-runners.”

“Which is why I was willing to give that much. I suspect the Governor likes a fair fight and would even consider offering this to the Senator had the situation been reversed.”

Bree looked at the zebra. “C’mon, Zadi. Let’s go make some calls.”

Paul commented, “Bree, you’re welcome to use my office to call your campaign. It’s just directly across from the break room. Zadi, the office next to the break room is currently vacant but has a phone, in case you need to make calls as well. It’s Star-9 to dial out.”

“Thanks.” Neither her eyes nor her smile had any trace of joy as she walked out.

As soon as they did, Paul looked at Carlos. “You know, if you ever want out of politics, Carlos, you’re welcome to come back here.”

He shrugged. “Naah, I think it’s in my blood now. Besides, I owe it to lots of people – DJ included – to do this kind of job. I think I’d do better here.”

“Yeah, but if Governor Davies wins, you’re never going to hear the end of it.”

“Maybe,” Carlos admitted. “Off the record, Bree’s grandfather likes me, I think. Might ‘hate’ me, quote unquote, on the record, but family life for the Davies is as bad as the Kennedys used to be.” Carlos would have said more, but Bree suddenly rushed in and started kissing him passionately.

“Don’t plan on sleeping tonight,” she breathed, and it was very clear to both men what she meant. Then with a shake of her head, she was back in professional mode and went back to Paul’s office to go make the call.

Paul grinned; he’d had a couple of times like that with Lyra. Reaching over to the phone, he contacted Beth. “Beth, when you get a chance, can you send a quick email to Lyra and let her know I’ll call her later, and there’s big news? She’ll understand what I mean.”

“Sure thing – will do!”

“Thanks.” He broke the connection, then looked at the younger man. “Well, that went better than I expected,” he admitted.

“Yeah, but truth be told, I hadn’t expected Zadi to give in; she’s very fierce when it comes to non-human rights, so I guess she must think I’m worth the chance.”

“That’s an odd turn of phrase.”

A merry look crossed Carlos’ face. “Well, Zadi and I dated for about a year before we had to split up; she went to law school out in Texas, and long-distance relationships never work. I met Bree a few years later, but I didn’t know they were fr—mpph!” To surprise of both men, Zadi then came in and kissed Carlos passionately.

“I knew I shouldn’t have given up on you so easily,” she said, her friendly voice carrying tinges of love and regret. Looking at Paul, she said, “Don’t tell Bree, okay? We’re old friends and I’d hate to have her misunderstand. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I still have to make that call.” Proud as the Queen of Zebrababwe herself, the zebra walked out of the room.

Paul just looked at the younger man as Carlos sat back in the chair, a big grin on his face.

Dinner was at the Ellington Diner, with three unicorns in particular having commandeered three tables in order to get the paperwork done. At the moment, one was on the phone. “And we’ll be sure to keep an eye out for the news tomorrow; it’s going to be hell as soon as the newsvans start showing up in this small burb. Yes, of course. Love you too and miss you –give the kids a kiss goodnight for me. Bye!” She clicked off, and then Lyra looked at her friends. “You know what the hardest part about being ambassador is? Not being there to tuck the kids into bed.”

“Yes, but you’re ensuring a better future for them – they are ponies as well as humans,” Sweetie pointed out.

“I suppose, but I still miss them when I’m gone like this.”

“Wow – I hope that when Pip and I have kids someday that we’ll be as happy as you are.”

“Well, I’m sure Pip’ll be a good father,” Lyra commented. “What do you think, Twilight?” As expected, no answer came. “Uh, Twilight, mind turning off the Surface to pay attention?”

“I was listening,” the unicorn archmagus replied as she looked just over the top of her tablet. “Sweetie already knows my thoughts on it, since we’ve talked about it a billion times since the two of them finally got engaged. As for your thoughts, Lyra…I’m glad to see that there’s still a pony heart in there.”

“You make it sound like I’ve ‘gone native.’ Look, I like using the amniomorphic spell – I’ll freely admit Paul and I weren’t planning on having our third child, though we love little Octavia – but I’m still pony at my soul, and I think my husband would agree.”

“No, you misunderstand: what I meant was that too many politicians in Equestria – especially in the Ministry of Finance – are skilled at being, as Cadance once told me, ‘pony body but robot heart.’ Sorry, I should have been a bit clearer.”

“Sounds like living in the US has inured me from a lot of it.”

“Let’s just say that Cadance has considered recalling you back to Equestria once or twice not because you’re doing a bad job, but because she can’t stand dealing with some of the idiots in the other parts of government and she’d just hand you the Minister’s office. If it wasn’t for the fact that Celestia thinks that you and Cobbler are doing incredible jobs, she probably would have, too.”

“No thank you. Sidwell Friends is one of the best schools in the area, and I would hate to uproot the twins from school,” Lyra countered. “You can tell her highness than while I appreciate the insult-cum-promotion, she’ll have to keep her job that much longer. And before you say anything else, Twilight, I’m being as nice as I am right now because you’re an old friend and I know she’s your sister-in-law.”

“Can we get back to the subject at hand?” Sweetie asked.

“Yeah, sorry. Anyway, I spent the rest of the day on the phone with Princess Cadance,” Lyra explained, flashing Twilight a shit-eating grin. “She told me to mention something about bringing back some Ghirardelli when you get the chance. Care to explain that?”

Twilight rolled her eyes; though it had been sixteen years since the unicorn had been married to Bon-Bon, Lyra clearly still cared about her old flame and was very protective of the chocolatier. “We had some when we were on vacation in San Francisco three years ago and she loved it. It’s not a slight against Bonnie, I promise.”

“Okay, I’ll let you off the hook. Anyway, she’s willing to rescind the ban, but she also pointed out that their guard careers are done. They’re part of a unit that no longer exists that’s part of a guard that no longer exists the way it used to, and they’re woefully out of date for current military training. Of course, I’m not the Minister of Defense, so I can’t comment on that.”

“Great – we’re going to have to get Rainbow involved.” Seated next to Twilight, an equally disgusted look crossed Sweetie’s face.

“Something I should know about?”

“Do you remember when Rainbow decided she’d met her dreams on the Wonderbolts and decided to resign her spot from it and then Scootaloo also followed suit?”

“Yeah, happened just before your brother’s announcement that he was reorganizing the old Guard into the modern services. And I know I said it before, but I’m sorry I couldn’t make the funeral – Shining Armor was a great stallion.”

“You were too close to delivery to travel; I could hardly blame you,” Twilight commented. “As it was, you gave birth two days later, so it’s a good thing you didn’t go. But anyway, that’s what she said, and we all publicly lauded her for that. But it isn’t the truth.”

“But she told me she and Soarin’ were looking forward to being posted in Alabama for a year.”

“No. The truth is Rainbow and Scootaloo were fired by Shiny, ordered off the team. Both of them, along with Soarin’ and Spitfire, were sent off to the US Air Command and Staff College and then to the USAF Test Pilots’ School, officially so they could be the core of the leadership for the new Royal Equestriani Air Force. But the truth was is that Celestia, via Shiny, punished the four of them for their actions in the Foalnapping Incident.”

“It was the four of them? I didn’t know that!”

“Yeah. We’ve kept it under wraps; who knows what’ll happen if it gets into the public. Well, to add insult or injury, we later found out that Spitfire and Soarin’ were both innocent and had nothing to do with it – we essentially pulled them from command of both their guard units unfairly. Soarin’ and Spitfire blamed Rainbow for that and she and Soarin’ almost divorced because of it – if it wasn’t for the two of them getting drunk once night while fighting, or so I was told, they wouldn’t have had that very…unusual…reconciliation, and it would have been the end for their marriage. Plus, it worked out great in the long run: Spitfire took over Chief of Staff of the REAF when Sunny Skies retired, and Rainbow…well, you know about that.”

“As for Scootaloo, we had a rocky time between both of us,” Sweetie admitted. “We didn’t speak for years, and it wasn’t until Shining Armor’s funeral that we patched things up.

“Well, mares, here’s where I make a bad idea worse: Do you think that Rainbow could have had something to do with the 37th getting smoozed?”

Twilight shook her head. “No. I know that for a fact. What Rainbow did was horrific for DJ and her family, but she was doing it out of love and concern for Rarity. She fought us every step of the way during the trial and it took years for her to apologize to DJ and the rest of us, but she did it, again, for the same reasons. Furthermore, she tried to fight the exiling of Roughwind’s centuria – they refused to turn on her, so she repeatedly stood up for them; I don’t know if he knew that. Rainbow might be loyal to a fault, but she is loyal.”

“And if that wasn’t enough,” Sweetie added, “Rainbow didn’t have that kind of authority back then. She was just the second-in-command of the Wonderbolts at the time; that gave her a certain hierarchal authority, but nothing above the head of a cohort. And part of it also was from the part that Scootaloo and Contrails dated briefly before his involvement in the situation and her relationship with Featherweight, and she admitted that’s how she had an in with them. But again, no authority to smooze a whole unit.”

“Then you know who did it.”

“I think I do, and I wish I didn’t,” Twilight said. “The truth is, I think Luna did it. The 37th’s main duties were for the protection and security of Luna and her detail, and Roughwind’s centuria were some temporarily turned into Shadowbolts by Nightmare Moon. To make her feel more at ease, the coats of the members of the 37th were all very dark colors, and I think that instead of serving to put her at ease, it was just that much more of a reminder of the shame of Nightmare Moon. So when they were caught, I think Rainbow went to Luna, confessed and Luna did what she had to do.”

“But why her highness? To get someone that involved would be scandalous.”

“Luna owes us her life,” Twilight said simply. “We’ve never thought of it that way, but Luna is very insistent that had we not exorcized Nightmare Moon from her, she’d still be in the thrall of that creature and the land would have broken out in war again between the two sisters. Luna feels that for that, it’s a debt she can’t pay, and now that we’re all family, she would do anything for us. Anything.”

“Including smoozing a unit she already felt was giving her a guilt trip,” Lyra finished. “What do you intend to do about it?”

“She’s not going to do anything, because I know for a fact the Princess didn’t do it,” Roughwind’s voice rang across the hall. The three mares looked as the mayor of Ponyville strode into the diner. “I’m sure you three know who Prince Blueblood is, right?”

“And we wish we didn’t!” the three mares said in unison.

“Then you know about Blueblood’s father, Campion, correct?” Crickets could nearly be heard. “I thought not. Blueblood has two half-sisters from his father’s, ah, liaison with another mare. That would make his kid sisters princesses, except that Blueblood’s mother found out and forced Campion to practically disown the filies and exile the mother. Thing is, Princess Celestia knew about it and arranged for the fillies to be adopted into other, respectable families; unfortunately, the mother, after giving her foals up for adoption, was never heard from again – it’s believed that she changed her name and moved to Zebrababwe, where there’s a pony diaspora in the capital of Quaggaton.”

“And you know this, how?”

Roughwind sat at the table. “Archmagus, do you think that being a member of the Royal Family gives your family the exclusive right to dark secrets and black sheep?”

“Please, just call me Twilight, Roughwind.”

“Then call me Jim – I go by that now.”

“Fine. And no, I don’t feel any of my family has the monopoly on that.”

“Good. Because what I’m about to tell you is what’s going to rip apart the Solar and Lunar Thrones otherwise, and why me and my centuria kept quiet for so long. But I want to see Indy and the rest get what they deserve. I can’t hold my tongue any longer.”

“Tongue about what?”

“The truth. The 37th were smoozed for two reasons: the first was because they were tied to my centuria and could thus be blamed for knowing the secret about who was guilty in the Foalnapping Incident. But it seems you already know who did.”

Sweetie rose to her feet. “How long have you been standing there?”

Roughwind held his forehooves out to placate her. “Now, now, mage – I just happened to overhear as I walked in. This place is empty tonight and sound carries a bit. If it wasn’t for the fact that I promised Jesse I’d watch the place tonight while you worked so he and Indy could take a night off, no one would’ve heard you at all.”

“I see,” the white unicorn said as she returned to her seat, a hint of distrust still in her voice.

“Please, continue,” Twilight answered.

“Thank you.” Roughwind sat at the table. “Now, I want you ladies’ promise this won’t leave this place. But the second reason is that someone didn’t just try to smooze the 37th…no, they tried smoozing Prince Blueblood’s half-sister, in this case, the older one.” He paused for a second. “Indy loves her mother and father, even though part of her could barely remember vague images of a different mare. Well, about six years ago, she got a mysterious package – she’ll have to tell you about it – and me and Jesse spent a day cheering her up. Turns out she got a package from an Equestriani celebrity, a pop star named Midnight Moondust.”

“I know her. She’s a friend of Luna’s,” Twilight offered.

“Yeah, she’s also an actress, married to some British actor also, if I recall. Anyway, she apparently had an accident on the film Lid…Liddle….hell, I can’t pronounce the damn name.”

“Llwyddiant Tragywyddol,” Sweetie commented. “Final film in the Arddun trilogy. Beautiful movie, too.”

“Not my kind of screentime, truth be told. But anyway, turns out that when the accident happened, something in Ms. Moondust’s mind was knocked clean, and she had a bunch of memories that she’d never had before. Princess Luna was visiting the movie set that day and found out her friend was suffering from an improperly done mindwipe spell.”

“A mindwipe spell? But those are illegal!”

“Not only illegal, but the spell was also of draconic magical origin – meaning someone hired a dragon mage to do it. Anyway, Luna worked in secret to do some digging and that’s when she found out that Moondust was originally Ebon Eve – and that she had an older sister, another pegasus whose name was Nightsky. Anyway, the box Moondust sent Indy was enchanted to hold a counterspell, and when Indy touched it, she got hit with all her memories of when she was Nightsky.”

“You’re saying Celestia did this?”

“Were you listening to me at all? I’m saying a dragon did the mindwipe; I don’t know who did the smoozing. I’m saying I don’t think that any of the princesses were involved in this, but because they know about it, it’s the kind of thing that Blueblood could use against them. It doesn’t matter if he knows, because he could always claim that he had no idea his father was having an affair. But if Celestia knew and Luna found out? There’d be hell to pay.”

Roughwind passed a piece of paper over to Twilight. “Get a hold of our old friend Rainbow Dash and have her tell you everything she knows – and I suspect she knows everything. Tell her I appreciate her standing up for us all this time, but it’s time for a little disloyalty in the name of what’s right. I’ve spent too many years looking into Indy’s heartbroken eyes, and truth be told, she’s kinda like a little sister to me now. I can’t take it anymore. Moondust will be protected by her friendship with Princess Luna, but what about Indy? She deserves better.”

“So you’re doing this for her?”

“Damn me for a fool, but yes, yes I am. My wife has already told me she likes it here and doesn’t plan to go back. When news gets out that the Guard don’t want them no more, and faced with the chance that dozens of cop shops in this state do? I think we’ll be seeing almost all of them stay. But even if that wasn’t the case, yes, I’m doing it for Indy.”

“All the reason I need,” Lyra said, sitting back in the seat. “I’ll call Lorne in the morning and update him on everything. He retires at the end of next month.”

“Oh, yeah, ‘bout that: if he still wants the job, well…I held a town council meeting earlier in the week and let them know I’d be willing to step down to Vice Mayor and they could bring him onboard in a special election. Job doesn’t really pay loads, but then again, you really don’t need much in this town – it’s not like we’re living in St. Louis or Memphis. Basically, if he wants it, it’s his.”

“Well, I got off the phone with my husband a few minutes ago, and turns out both major candidates in the election are going to jointly push to get this resolved. It probably means there’s no chance President Cantwell’s going to boost his poll numbers, but considering he and Vice President Williams weren’t going to bother running for re-election, he’ll just have to take the Nixon path to regaining any sense of respect.”

“Aren’t you supposed to not admit your opinions in public like that?” Sweetie asked.

“Well, yeah, but I think I can trust everypony at this table,” Lyra commented. “And for the record, yes, he is a total douchebag. Man thinks it’s his right to lust after every female on the planet. Least thing this country needs is another sex scandal in the White House – from yet another Democratic president. That makes what…three lechers in the Oval Office now?”

“Lyra, I don’t care about that. I care that someone’s about to do serious damage to the Crown…more importantly, to my family. And I’m going to find out who did it, and when I do? Let’s just say I’m not going to be Ms. Nice Former Librarian.” She held up the piece of paper, as though it was a weapon. “Let’s get this clear: in one month, by Tartarus or by high water, this will be solved.”

Welcome Home, Finale

It had taken five months since Lyra’s discovery to bring a close to the whole affair. The weather had since turned, and the crowd was gathering on an overcast autumn day. The news had made it out into the public about the smoozed ponies and though he hadn’t been responsible, the popularity ratings of the current president were now so low he would have no chance of winning reelection had he chosen to do so; the same with his vice president. Oddly enough, Princess Celestia had somehow escaped blame for everything, as it was believed that rogue elements of the Crown were at fault for this; Potato Chip, the head of the Mage Guild’s Division of Law Enforcement, swore to “spend every resource” at his disposal to uncover the conspiracy, but considering that most felt that fairly or otherwise this would point at the hooves of the Royal Family, the matter was given little concern by the Equestriani public, the commons unsure if anypony would ever stand trial.

One change, heralded in a joint press conference by Senator Tyson McAllister (R-VA) and Governor Bob Davies (D-OR), was that the pair had worked with the Departments of State, Justice and Homeland Security to ensure that the ponies that had been smoozed would be allowed to remain as legal residents of the US or to return home unimpeded as they desired. Both politicians had been so instrumental in their action that it virtually assured that they would both win the nominations of their respective parties and face each other in the election in two years – to have clearly defined front-runners for an upcoming election so early was unprecedented, to say the least.

“How do I look?” Rainbow said, as she looked in the mirror in her hotel room. Youth, where are you now? she thought. She was never really vain, but every time she looked in the mirror, looked at the faded mane that was once a full spectrum of color from which she got her name, she missed the days when she could do a Triple Rainboom in seconds, straight up, without even breaking a sweat. Now, she was lucky if she could pull off a Double and that was usually in a high-speed dive, assisted by gravity. No, nowadays, all her speed came from time spent behind a fighter’s HOTAS whenever she had to fly an F-23A or F-35D to keep up with her yearly flight qualifications so she could keep drawing flight pay. No, the skies were no longer hers or Soarin’’s; those belonged to her similarly-colored son.

But on the bright side, it could be so much worse. As a mare in her early sixties, she could be in much worse shape; Twilight and Rarity, being unicorns, aged slower than the other pony tribes, and both looked as if they were in their forties, as did the younger Sweetie. But Pinkie, Fluttershy, AJ and herself would normally not be so lucky; one only had to look at Bloomie or Scoots to see how a normal pegasus or earth pony aged. Fortunately, the four non-unicorn Bearers were blessed by their Elements and aged as slowly as their unicorn counterparts; though neither unicorn ever mentioned it, Rainbow suspected if Twilight or Rarity used their magic in concert with the power of the Elements, they could restore their youth all the way back to around when they all first met. But they were a matched set, the six were, and as such neither unicorn would unintentionally bring hurt on their sisters by doing that, even if it cost them the opportunity of a lifetime – literally.

“Get over yourself, Rainbow – for cryin’ out loud, you look younger than me!” Scootaloo commented drily.

“I know, I know, I just have to look my best today. It’s been a while since I’ve worn my full dress uniform, so I have to look my sharpest.”

The younger pegasus rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes, the great REAF General Rainbow Dash, Minister of Defense for Equestria, has to look so buckin’ spiffy.”

“Well, somepony has to look totally awesome,” she teased. Scootaloo, also in her dress uniform, looked somewhat nonplussed. “Even you.”

“You’re in an odd mood today.”

“Do you really need to ask why?”

“I guess not.” Scootaloo fiddled with the tie on her dress uniform briefly then adjusted her epaulets. “We’re never going to escape this, are we? We’re going to have to live the rest of our lives making up for a big mistake.”

“Sometimes that’s all a part of being a mare, kiddo,” Rainbow said. “All I wanted to do was bring the smile back to Rarity’s face when I talked Roughwind’s centuria into making the rescue attempt. All I was doing was trying to make you feel that I trusted you when I asked you to steal that intelligence. And all I ended up doing was hurting our family that much more so, as well as shaming the both of us and wrecking several lives. There are days where I think the only reason I’m still standing is because of my duties to the Crown, and because I’m the Element of Loyalty. Other days, I wish I could just give it all up, resign my commission and duties and just go live the rest of my life in the old cave in the Lonely Spire.”

“You still have me,” the orange mare pointed out. “You still have your husband and your son. And at the end of the day, you’re still the Bearer of Loyalty – you bolster everypony’s dreams.”

“Trying to keep my spirits up? Not today, Scoots, not today. Today…today I have to crush the dreams of that unit that got smoozed.” She sighed, leaning against the table, her tie suddenly feeling way too tight. “They’ve wanted to come back for fifteen years now, and when Lyra found out about them last June, she really got the wheels going. But here’s the part where I have to end it for them.”

“I don’t see the problem – why can’t they come back? If the smoozing was a mistake, why can’t they come back?”

“Colonel, what’s easier to train: a fresh new recruit out of boot camp or the officer’s academy, or someone who was trained in a previous style of warfare that’s hundreds of years outdated and been out of the loop for the past fifteen years? Plus, from the briefings I’ve gotten from the Chicago consulate, these ponies are more used to police duties where they’ve been living for the past decade and a half. They’d be more suited to stay there and join the local police departments than to try to get back into a military they’re totally unsuited for.”

“But…we’re breaking their hearts all over again, Rainbow!”

“I know, Scoots,” she replied. “Don’t you think I can’t see that? Don’t you think I hate having to be the bad mare again, all because of Loyalty? Everything I’ve ever done is either because of our family or for the Crown. I’m supposed to be Rainbow Dash, the Heroine of Equestria. What am I really, Scoots – The Schemer, the Backstabber, the Buddybucker. Half the family doesn’t trust me anymore; the other half just wants to see me happy. And why?” She seethed, “All. Because. Of. My. Damn. Loyalty!”

Scootaloo went to nuzzle the other pony. “I’m just as guilty, Rainbow, and I’ve never not trusted you.”

“I know,” Rainbow whispered, kissing the younger pony on the cheek. “And I’ve loved you for that, little sister. You’ve always been there for me.” She paused for a second to right her feelings, before standing upright. “Now, time to go be professional.”

“As if you weren’t before?” Both pegasi looked and Twilight and Sweetie stood at the door, upright as well, wearing business suits. “You weren’t answering the knock, so I came in. I hope you don’t mind.”

“You heard everything then, didn’t you.”

“Yes.”

“Do you think that you two are the only ones who love Sandalwood? Or Rarity? That we don’t give a damn?” Scootaloo snarled.

“We never thought that,” Sweetie Belle responded. “Am I disappointed in the actions you two took? Yes, and you paid for it – more than any of us ever expected, since you almost lost Soarin’, Rainbow. And while I can’t speak for the others, I think I can speak for Twilight and myself, and that we know your hearts were in the right place even if your brains weren’t.”

“What’d you mean by that, Sweetie?” Rainbow growled. “That I was a coward for not stepping in myself? That I should have been the one to lead the rescue? That I should have been the one to hurt Sandalwood?”

“Her name is DJ,” Sweetie replied. “Why can’t you accept that? Is it because Rarity won’t? Or because doing so cements you—”

“Not now, Sweetie,” Twilight said. Walking up to Rainbow, she said, “Rainbow, we are all sisters here. We shouldn’t be fighting against one another.”

“Easy for you to say, Twilight,” the rainbow-maned pegasus retorted a bit too angrily. She realized what she said and was expecting to be bucked in the face.

“Rainbow, how long have you hurt?” Twilight went over and embraced the other mare. “Is it because you saw your son grow up and knew that would never be the way for Rarity and her oldest foal?”

“My fault,” Rainbow whispered. “I failed Rarity. I failed you all.”

“No you didn’t. You were loyal to us, loyal to Rarity to the end. You made a mistake and it wasn’t a small one either, but it wasn’t as though you intended to hurt anypony. And even DJ forgave you.”

A few seconds went by before Rainbow realized Twilight had paused in her speech, not finished. “And you were planning to ask me something else, weren’t you?”

“Who smoozed them?” Twilight asked, crossing her forearms.

“I did. My failure. There.”

“And who really did it? You didn’t have that kind of authority back then, Rainbow.”

“Twilight?” Rainbow asked. “Do you trust me?”

“You know I do.”

“Do me a favor and cut the horsefeathers, Twi. Do you really trust me?”

“Do you remember when Spike went on that dragon migration despite being too young? Who came with me?”

“Well, Rarity, because she kinda felt sorry for the little guy—”

“—and you, because you wouldn’t ever leave someone you cared about in the lurch,” Twilight finished. “And don’t deny it. Even before we all became a family, you knew it in your heart. You knew my little brother belonged with us, not dragons. And knowing you like I do, you wouldn’t be covering for whomever did it unless there was a good reason.”

“Twilight, these are questions you don’t want answered,” Rainbow warned, “and not because you’re the head of the Mage Guild or the Knight Commander Elemental or the Duchess Shetland or anything like that. I’m telling you this because I want you spared the pain.”

“I have to know, Rainbow. The Crown can’t keep covering up this kind of stuff if Celestia or Luna stuff this.”

“Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, please wait for us outside,” Rainbow Dash replied. “This is Knight business.”

“Rainbow,” both younger mares started.

“Trust me,” Twilight told her protégé. “We’ll talk about it later.”

The pair departed the room, standing outside by the car. “What’s with these human motels?” Scootaloo asked.

“It’s set up so they’re close to their car,” Sweetie answered. “No different than Cloudsdale’s floatels – just a different means of locomotion.” After a few minutes, she asked her old friend, “What do you think they’re talking about in there? Really talking about?”

“What Twilight’s not supposed to know,” Scootaloo said, staying silent for a second before answering, “And please don’t ask me about it either, Sweetie. I know it’s your job to, but secrets are secrets for a reason.”

“WHAT!” Twilight’s shout was loud enough to be heard through the walls. A split-second later, the shout was met with another. “Don’t come in, we’re coming out!” A second later, both mares walked out of the room.

“Guess I’m driving,” Scootaloo said, as Rainbow tossed her the keys.

“Yeah, military decorum and all that, Colonel,” she answered.

“We should have brought Blitz,” she grumbled good-naturedly as she got in the driver’s seat. Sweetie Belle got in the passenger’s seat and the older mares got in the back. Both looked in the rearview mirror, noticing Twilight was visibly shaken.

Watching her mentor, Sweetie Belle wanted to ask, to say something to assure Twilight, as the older pony was very shaken up. But Twilight’s eyes connected with her apprentice’s via the rear view mirror and there was nothing else to say as the car drove the short distance from the motel to the recently renovated town hall, where Rainbow Dash would be giving a speech in front of the assembled ponies and humans.

As the car pulled up by the stage, personnel from the Chicago consulate were there to open the doors for the four senior ponies. Standing by the stairs to the stage were Lyra, Paul, Carlos, Bree, Zadi, Loren and a pegasus named Pinwheel, who was the head of the Chicago consulate. “Heya, Rainbow,” Lyra said, hugging her old friend.

“Long time no see,” Rainbow replied. “Diplomatic life keeping you busy?”

“Just as much as running the Ministry of Defense keeps you,” she said, smiling as she brushed a lock of her mane out of her face. Lyra then went over and hugged Sweetie and Scootaloo, but gave Twilight a concerned hug as she added the final embrace. “Twi, you okay?”

“No, I probably won’t be for a while,” she said. A sudden thought came to the unicorn mage, and she closed her eyes as she horn flared with magic. She bent her head down, her horn connecting with Lyra’s. Lyra’s flickered green, accepting the spell, and then the face of the celeste mare was nothing but utter shock.

“Oh, Twilight…I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I’m sorry,” Lyra said, nuzzling her friend.

“I’ll be okay, Lyra, but thanks for the concern,” she said, dully. “It’s something I have to face alone.”

Sweetie Belle felt hurt for a moment – she told Lyra but not me? – but then realized whatever pain it was, it was now Lyra’s cross to bear as well, as evidenced by the look on her face. Sweetie then realized that Twilight was trying to protect her from whatever the secret was; even as it was tearing the older unicorn apart, she was protecting her protégé.

The four took their seats even as Rainbow Dash took to the lectern. By agreement, there was no raising the flags or playing of the national anthems; doing so might be construed as salt in the wounds of the former 37th, and so it was left out. As she approached, she looked out at the crowd, and noticed that all the ponies had very much gone native. All of them wore human clothing, and she’d heard even a few of them, her old friend Roughwind included, had changed their names to human ones. Maybe this was the way things were meant to be; if so, it was cruel.

“Hello,” she started, her voice loud enough to cause feedback from the microphone; a human tech supplied by the town quickly rushed onstage to adjust the volume before jetting back offstage. “I’d like to welcome you all to the last official gathering of the 37th Combined Guard Cohort of the Equestria Guard.” Murmurs started going through the crowd in waves. “Many of you know who I am; for the rest of you who don’t, I am General Rainbow Dash, Royal Equestriani Air Force, Duchess Jennet, Minister of Defense, and Knight Elemental of Loyalty.”

Someone in the back shouted, “Some loyalty you’ve shown us!” and he got stared back into submission.

“I….” she began, before pulling the microphone away from the lectern and just walked away from it. “No, you’re right. Regardless of the fact that I am not technically in charge of your unit – that belongs to ERG Chief Golden Shield, though she couldn’t be present today – I am partly or completely to blame for many of you being here, and there’s nothing I can say to make it better, though…I apologize to you all. I’m sorry.” The crowd remained silent, and she continued. “Some of you are friends, like Roughwind or Nightstreak. Some of you I’ve never met, like Indigo Horizon or Sable Wing. But you are all the responsibility I must bear personally.

“You may not like this, but I brought a decree with me from Director Shield, formally disbanding the 37th Cohort. As of now, all of you may consider yourselves retired from the Equestria Royal Guard, the successor to the original Guard. You will receive retirement pay equivalent to the rank you would have made in a twenty year career with the Guard and ERG or one of the modern Royal Equestriani Armed Service branches. But the fact is, you are all well beyond the age that would be reasonable for you to be retrained in modern military methods and customs, and none of you deserve to start out as lower ranked serviceponies. The only reasonable choice we have is to retire you all.” The crowd broke out into angry murmurs now.

Rainbow raised her hooves, pleading for calm. “However, thanks to the dedication of the Embassy and Ambassador Phillips here,” she said, gesturing to the seated unicorn, “We have not abandoned you. Those who wish to return to Equestria will be allowed to do so. Your name and identity will be restored upon return, and while we can never make up for what you lost during these years, the Crown will in all cases, provide c…no,” she said, pausing. “The compensation will come directly out of my paycheck and stipend for House Jennet. I will ensure you all will receive something.”

Seated in the back, Twilight and the others looked at her in shock – why hadn’t she said anything about this? Hearing Lyra’s gasp, Rainbow turned around briefly, flashing them all a smile.

Scootaloo grinned, whispering, “Now let them have it with the other barrel, big sister,” as everyone then turned their eyes to the younger mare’s words.

“Furthermore,” Rainbow added, “we are setting up a scholarship for the foals and children of those members of the 37th with kids, so that we will continue to provide. Those with college-age students already attending locally will be recompensed from the fund.” She paused. “The funds for that will directly come out of the paycheck of Colonel Scootaloo, Royal Equestriani Air Force and the stipend for House Tolfetano.”

At this point every individual present went quiet. Rainbow Dash and Scootaloo had just publically announced they’d bankrupt themselves for the sake of making things right. To say this was an attempt to make up for things was an understatement. Were it not for their respective husband’s own livelihoods, both would have just committed financial seppuku on stage.

Twilight looked at Scootaloo. “Why?” she whispered.

Scootaloo, as she’d done so often in her life, looked at her mentor on stage with a look of love. Not looking at Twilight, she answered, “Because if nothing else, Rainbow is ever loyal, and I will never let her go into danger without somepony at her wings.”

But Rainbow wasn’t done yet. “I will now introduce Elizabeth Windham, the Attorney General for the State of Missouri. Attorney General Windham has a request for all of you.” With that, she handed the microphone to the woman walking on stage, and then went to walk off it, just needing to get away from it all.

She hadn’t made it as far away as a block from the stage when Twilight, Sweetie and Lyra teleported in front of her. “Rainbow…you didn’t have to go that far,” Twilight said.

“Yes, yes I did,” she said, pulling a pair of shades from her suit jacket pocket and putting them on; it was hazy at the moment, but she didn’t want to see her friends react to her own tears. “I had to, Twilight. I made Roughwind suffer for what he did, at my request—”

“And he forgave you a long time ago,” a voice said behind her. Roughwind walked towards them, a smile on her face. “I could never be mad at you, Dashie.”

“‘Dashie?’” those present gasped.

She nodded. “Who else could I trust to go to lengths for me, and who would I go to bat for more than anpony else than an old flame?” she said, as the stallion put a pair of arms around her; she, in turn, gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’m sorry for everything, Roughie,” she told him.

“You know, either your husband’s going to get jealous about this or my wife,” he laughed.

“Soarin’ already knows about you – I told him a long time ago.”

“Yeah, so does Nocturne,” he told her. “Truth was, Lyra, Twilight, Sweetie, the whole bit about me being under the sway of the old Shadowbolts spell was a lie I cooked up so she would never get in trouble for this. I was willing to march into Tartarus for Dashie here, because I still had feelings for her at the time and couldn’t really abide seeing her with Soarin’, no offense against him or nothing. But I hadn’t expected the 37th to get wrapped up in this, much less Indy.”

“I told Twilight everything,” she told him, and he nodded.

“Wait...wait wait wait….” Twilight said, shaking her forehooves in denial. “When did you ever date him, Rainbow? I think you would have said something.”

“Twilight, you’re a sister to me, but even I like my own privacy at times. It’s the same reason you didn’t know Soarin’ and I were dating until we were very comfortable in our relationship.”

“As for me and Dashie,” Roughwind replied, “she was the day and I was part of the Night Guard, so it never would’ve worked. Didn’t mean I didn’t love her any less; only that I had to give her up for her own good. But my feelings have never really changed, though you’ll have to excuse me if I say I’m more inclined towards my wife now, Dashie.”

“I’d be worried otherwise,” she said, favoring him with a grin.

“So now what happens?” Sweetie asked. “The wrong just get away with it? The guilty party just gets away scot free?”

“It was my brother,” Twilight said, her eyes feeling lost. “Shining Armor gave the order to smooze them.” Twilight looked as though she were about to lose her footing, but Lyra moved to support her.

“Huh?” Sweetie said, not believeing. The stallion she knew would never do something like that.

“I know what you’re thinking, Sweetie,” Rainbow said, “I thought as much when the letter came to me from him, asking me to take the blame should it ever come public. He knew the status of the two missing princesses would rock the Throne, especially with both mares having no interest in their true identities.”

“But there had to be a better way! That wasn’t like the Shining Armor I knew!”

“I know that, you know that – Twilight, most of all, knows that,” Rainbow answered. “But unless he left some explanation behind, it’s a secret he carried to his grave and one he never shared with me.” She took a deep breath. “You know, for the first time in ages, I feel like I can breathe easy. Who’s up for lunch? It’s on me.”

“What about the ceremony still going on?” Lyra asked. “They’re going to wonder why we left.”

Rainbow grinned. “This is between them and Missouri now; no longer between them and the Crown. If what happens happens, I think we can safely say ponydom has given humans its first gift in return for all they’ve done for us. So…who’s up for Whataburger?”

Windham’s offer, made by the Governor of Missouri himself, had been enticing, one that nearly all ponies present had accepted: join a Missouri law enforcement agency, and after five years of service, the Department of Homeland Security would fast-track the ponies in question for citizenship. Given jobs they wanted, were already experienced with, and were sorely needed, the newly-developed “Ponies of the Law” program fielded eight hundred law enforcement officers for various agencies within Missouri, bringing crime within the state down drastically.

In the end, out of the thousand exiled 857 ponies chose to remain in the United States while thirty-four had expressed a desire to return to Equestria. Of those remaining, they were so distrusting of either nation that they appealed to other nations for asylum. So far, the Republic of Donkonia had accepted four, Canada welcomed ten, twelve were headed to the United Kingdom, and the remainder opted for Australia, New Zealand, or Ireland – one, a pony whose cutie mark made him a translator, opted for Germany.

Three months later, Lyra was invited to the wedding of Jesse Stiles, owner of the Ellington Diner, and his bride, Indigo Horizon, Senior Deputy for the Reynolds County Sheriff’s Department, which she happily accepted. To the shock of the bride, the performer at the wedding was Lyra herself, performing with pop star Midnight Moondust, who was happy to reveal that she and Indigo were sisters, separated by their individual adoptions. Indigo cried tears of joy as she was now married and reunited with the sister she never thought she’d meet again. Lyra, watching the scene, thought of another adopted pony she knew and wondered if she’d ever reunite with her biological siblings.

Well, the world’s a magical place, she said to herself, as she played the Gran Valse on her lyre, and miracles are bound to happen.

“You almost did yourself in, Father,” Prince Silver Platter looked at his father, Prince Blueblood. “You opened yourself to investigation by announcing the secret money, then leaving the trail to point right back to you.” The gray unicorn looked shocked at his father’s casual concern. “Aren’t you worried you’ll be arrested for treason?”

“Son, someday you will learn,” the white stallion replied, “the cosmos favors the Unicorn Dynasty to retake the throne from the Alicorns. Why else would I be blessed with such a freak incident of fortune?” His horn lit with azure light, and the aura wrapped around a silver pen on the table. As it jotted down onto the page, it wrote a name, a signature. When it was done, Blueblood floated it over to his son. “See?”

“But this….” Silver Platter replied, “This looks…this looks like Shining Armor’s signature!”

“It does, doesn’t it?” he said. “Out of all of millions of ponies in this world that my handwriting has to be a match for, and it turns out to be the former Captain of the Royal Guard and Minister of Defense, Prince Consort Shining Armor. The world will forever see him as the one who exiled the 37th Combined Cohort to the human world, and none will know it was to get rid of my half-sister Nightsky.”

“I would have still had them killed,” the younger prince responded.

In a rare glance, Blueblood looked at his son with disappointment. “There’s a price to be paid by killing those of royal blood, especially when they’re my sisters,” he commented. “And in truth, I bear them no ill will; but half-breeds like them don’t deserve to sit in a princely house. It was bad enough your grandfather decided to humiliate himself by rutting with their mother; I would not embarrass our house further by bringing them into the family. From what I understand, neither Nightsky nor Ebon Eve have any interest in reclaiming their true identities and would rather be known by their common selves. Thus, they are harmless and are free to rut with disgusting humans as much as they’d like. Not everything needs a strong touch, my son – sometimes all deception needs is a golden breeze.

“No, to the end of their days, everypony will wonder why Shining Armor acted so oddly, and in the end, they will just assume it was the poison in his veins killing him from his wounds at the Battle of the Hive and sadly affecting his judgment. After all, dead ponies tell no tales, especially those they never knew about.”

The Stallion and the Girl, Part One

“I have a scene I haven’t shown you”
- Miho Hatori

“Going to be okay dealing with a new school?”

Sitting in the passenger’s seat, the teen sighed. He was hoping to go to school at Farragut High back on base, but unfortunately, his father retired, and both decided they were going to settle down in his mother’s hometown of Winchester, Virginia, which he already could tell he wasn’t going to be thrilled about. Why didn’t they move to his father’s hometown of Milwaukee? There were probably tons of things to do there in Beertown. Heck, there were probably tons of things to do here, like staring at apple trees, mowing the lawn, staring at apple trees, going to school and staring at apple trees – did he mention staring at apple trees yet?

Yeah, he thought to himself, it’s not like I’m going to find anything worthwhile in this small town.

“Yeah, I think I’ll like it here,” he told his father, a convincing lie. He got out of the car. “I’ll see you later, then?”

“Yeah. I’ve got that interview with the VA and then the IRS both up in Martinsburg, but I should be back in time to pick you up. Good luck, son.”

Well, here he stood. Winchester Christian High School, home of…whatever mascot it was, he didn’t really care. As usual for kids in new schools, he headed straight to the admin office to introduce himself and check in.

“Oh, welcome to the school, young man,” the secretary replied. “Your first period teacher is in the teacher’s lounge; I’ll let him know you’re here and he can walk with you to the first class.”

“Sure, that’d be great,” he commented, not really caring as the secretary walked off. After all, what interesting things happened here?

He got his answer a second later. “Crap crap crap!” A curly-haired girl rushed into the office, looking as though she was trying to stay clear of imminent danger. Seeing him there, she said, “You don’t want to go out there: the War of the Worlds just started up again.”

He looked at her, not comprehending. Some Stateside slang I’ve never heard before? “Sorry, didn’t get that.” In the background he heard several girls screaming at each other, and not politely, either; for that matter, they were using language that probably was best not uttered on school grounds.

“Y’know, the War of the Worlds?” When he stared at her again, she looked at him. “You must be new here.”

“Actually, I am; first day here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Probably hard to believe this, but I just moved here from Spain. My dad was in the Navy but just retired, so we moved here.”

“Really? That’s so cool!” she squealed.

“Well, yeah, I guess. To me, it was just another day at home – this is the first time I’ve been Stateside since I was born. I was originally born in Pensacola, Florida, at the Naval Hospital.”

“That’s seriously awesome. Well, welcome!” She offered her hand. “Marcy Balis.”

He took it and shook. “Mike Hengst.” There was some more screaming, followed by a teacher rushing off in the direction of the vociferous debate. “So, you were saying?” he asked.

“Oh, right – the War of the Worlds. That’s our local term for when the Valerie Squad starts fighting with the Alien Girl. They’ve been going at it since Sixth Grade when I moved here from Hagerstown, and from what I’ve been told, they’ve been at it since kindergarten, can you believe?”

“Alien girl? What, she’s an illegal immigrant?”

“No, I literally mean alien, as in, she’s not human.” He looked at her oddly, as if she’d lost her mind. “No, I’m serious – you really must have been overseas for years not to have heard about this.” When he nodded, she explained: “Okay, Twitter version: about fifteen years ago, a couple found an alien baby in their backyard. Since they had no kids, they adopted her and sued the White House to give her full rights. They won the case, so she’s legally considered the same as a human even if she isn’t one. But she definitely acts like one, that’s for sure.”

“So she’s a she?”

“Who knows?” Marcy replied. “I mean, that’s what she identifies as, genderwise, but nobody’s exactly been inclined to look under the hood, if you know what I mean.”

“So what’s she look like?” he asked, curious. If this girl was telling the truth, where he lived just got a whole lot more interesting. “What, some kind of gray-skinned big-eyed alien like ET or something?”

“You’re going to laugh,” she responded. “Do you know about a bunch of toys from way back when called My Little Pony?”

“I think my mom mentioned about something like that when she was a kid, why?”

“Well, that’s what this girl looks like: like one of those deformed horse toys, only in real life. She stands on her hind legs, wears clothing and such, since she was raised to be like normal, but nobody I know has a tail or anything like that. Everyone calls her a pony now, but from what I understand she hates being called that, especially since she really doesn’t know what she is.”

“She doesn’t?”

“No, as far as I know, no one’s found any existence of any other aliens like her, or at all for that matter. I’ve got an uncle that works for NASA and he told me once that every study they’ve done on her indicates, strangely enough, that she’s from Earth; that she might even be some kind of hyper-evolved horse created by actual aliens.”

The bell rung, and Marcy said, “Well, there’s the first period bell. I’d better get off to class. Hopefully I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah, sure thing!” he said as she scampered off. Looking forward, he saw the secretary returning with another adult in tow, his first period teacher.

Mike went through the introductions with his algebra teacher, his mind on other things at the moment. An alien? A real-life alien? Here, in the middle of Nowhere, USA? He made a note to email all his friends back in Spain to tell them about this.

And I thought not being able to go to school in Rota was going to be dull….

Lunchtime came around and classes turned out to be easier than he expected. Algebra was a cinch, as he’d always been good at math; likewise, English class was also easy, but that had more to do with the fact that the teacher was a busty woman in her mid-twenties who acted as though she was still in high school herself. By the time the lunch bell rang, he was ready for lunch, as it would certainly get his mind off of all that weirdness.

He bumped into a guy on the way to the cafeteria, a Hispanic kid with curly hair carrying what looked like lunch for two. Helping him right the thing before it went spinning off into the messville, Mike apologized. “Hey, sorry about that.”

The guy gave him a cheerful but goofy grin. “Naah, man, I shoulda been paying attention myself, ya know? But thanks for the help. Be seein’ ya.”

Mike watched as the guy walked off, headed towards the far end of the cafeteria. “Weird,” he said to himself.

“Here ya go, DJ,” Carlos said, dropping the lunch tray in front of her. “Cheeseburger, fries and a Coke for you, and pizza and a Coke for me.”

DJ grinned at her old friend as she briefly looked up from her laptop. “Thanks, Carlos, I appreciate it.” She stared evilly at her computer. “Internet’s crapping out again – I swear, whoever said 5G works in our area is out of their mind.”

“Yeah, you should,” he grinned. “Almost got knocked over by this big guy, but thankfully he helped me catch everything before it went all over the place.”

“You okay?”

The teen had a smile plastered on his face. “Heh, you know me: I bounce back from everything, given enough time. So, since I bought you lunch, can you give me a hand on my algebra homework?”

She returned the smile. “You’re so incorrigible, you know that?”

Mike grabbed a tuna sandwich, an apple and water; he wasn’t really hungry, but something light would probably help. As he walked away from the cashier, he noted Marcy waving him over. He sat down, happy to oblige.

“I see you survived the first half of your first day at school,” she said, grinning.

“Yeah,” he replied. “School’s going to be a lot easier than I thought it’d be.”

“Man, you must be an A++ student,” one of Marcy’s friends said.

“Yeah, and those muscles? Jock as well, I’m guessing,” she said, her voice carrying a dreamy tone.

“Down, girl,” Marcy replied. “Mike, don’t mind them. These are my friends. This is Todd Miles, Denise Munoz, and the silent one there is Beverly Stephenson. Everyone, this is Mike Hengst, who just moved here all the way from exotic Spain.”

“Really?” Beverly piped up. “God, I’d love t—”

“Hello, handsome.” Mike distinctly felt a feminine hand on him and the breath of someone on his neck. He looked up and into the face of a beautiful young woman, perfect blonde hair, clear skin and luscious green eyes, all focused on him. “So, when are you taking me out?”

He looked at her, then said nonchalantly, “You know, as far as I know, it’s traditional to at least say hello first.”

She laughed; it was clearly a practiced one. “So cute. Well, they’ll tell you who I am, and when you’re ready to take me out, just give me a call, okay?” She produced a business card – a business card! – from the pocket of a tight pair of pants, and then sauntered off calling out, “And now to put something in its place.”

“Dude! Score!” Todd told him. “Do you realize who that was?”

“Um, should I?” he asked.

Marcy grinned. “You’re just all kinds of special, aren’t you, Mike? That’s Valerie Anderson, freshman just like us, but the hottest girl in school – she’s got seniors drooling over her. And apparently, she’s got the hots for you, not that I blame her,” the girl said, looking at him appreciatively.

Denise sighed. “Some girls just get all the luck.”

Mike shrugged. “Meh, no biggie.”

Todd looked at him as though he grew a third eye. “Dude, you gay or something? Well, if you are, that’s understandable, but…if not, duuuuude – turning down a quality piece of tail like that?”

“Hey, I just moved here from Spain. Entirely different standards than the local girls, not that I did any dating with girls my age on base or off,” he admitted.

Marcy saw that this was uncomfortable for him, so she changed conversations. “So, tell me about Spain, Mike. Where’d you live? Madrid? Barcelona?”

“Little place on the Mediterranean coast called Rota. West of Cadiz and south of Sevilla, er, Seville, in English. That’s where the Naval Base is. We lived out in town, not on base, nice little apartment just outside of the castle.”

“There’s a castle there? Wow, man, you rea—”

There was a crash, and a bunch of students filtered around a group of students arguing.

“War of the Worlds,” Todd and Beverly said at the same time, while Marcy just nodded. Mike looked in the direction of the argument, curious to get a look at this alien living amongst them but all he could see of any of them was the Alien Girl’s tail, a well-groomed tail flickering to and fro in jagged, angry motions.

The lunch bell rang and all the students filed out. Not surprisingly, the alien was lost in the crowds headed out the other side of the room, and with Mike’s locker being on the southern end of the school, he had to head in the opposite direction. Now he was really interested in meeting the girl, if for no other reason than to just get his curiosity going.

Besides, who knows? he told himself. She might be actually fun to talk to.

“DAAAAMMMIIITTT!” a scream came, along with the sound of a locker door being punched. Hard. That caught Mike’s attention. It was already after class, and his father had called to let Mike know that he would have to get home on his own; there had been an accident by the West Virginia border and it was tying up traffic for miles in both directions. As his father was new to the area, it was going to take a while for him to figure out how to get back to Winchester using the roads connecting between the two states.

Mike sighed; he vaguely remembered how to get home, but that also meant that he was going to have to walk home at least. At least it would get him away from the school and from Valerie Anderson. He’d heard a few more things about her from his new friends and the more he’d heard, the less he wanted to deal with her; it turned out that she was probably going to try to use him to get back at her old boyfriend – Dylan, Cameron, or some other generic name like that – and Mike was in no need to be used as anyone’s boyfriend. Truth be told, he wasn’t really looking for a relationship anyway.

As he walked towards the school exit, in the direction of the sound of where the shout had come, he began to hear sobbing and a girl crying, “It’s not fair…it’s just not fair….” As he reached the doorway, there was a hallway to his right, where a bunch of lockers were. Leaning next to them, crying, was a young woman, wearing a coat, as it was an unusually chilly day for early autumn and winter was expected to come very early this year. Her back was to him, and she sounded as though her world had just gone askew.

His choice was to leave and mind his own business, or stick his nose where it might not be wanted and see if she needed help.

He chose the latter.

“Hey, is everything okay?” he asked, approaching her.

“No, it never is,” she responded. “Could you leave me alone right now? I really don’t feel like dealing with further derision.”

Mike wasn’t sure what to say next, so he was surprised by the words that came out of his mouth: “Hey, sorry about that. All I see is a cute girl crying and I have to do something – it’s part of being a gentleman, last time I checked.”

Her laugh was soft and musical; sadly, it was also bitter. “Cute? Me? You must have me confused for Valerie Anderson.”

“No,” he said, “I meant what I said.” My mouth’s clearly running ahead of my brain, he thought to himself. I’ve called her pretty and I don’t even know what she looks like. One thing he did notice: she was short, probably about 5’5” if his guess was correct.

“Really?”

I’ve got to be insane to say this. “Yes, I mean it.” The girl turned around and Mike suddenly found himself staring into a pair of large, purple eyes, the eyes being the most beautiful things he’d ever seen. But the eyes were also red, red from tears, and something deep within him suddenly wanted to reach out and remove the red from those eyes, a primal instinct to protect.

The pair just looked at each other for a moment before the girl was the one to speak. “So, now that you see who I am…you still think I’m cute?”

Of all the girls he had to say that to…it was the Alien Girl. And truth be told, she looked like something straight out of a Disney film. Big eyes, small snout, soft fur all over, and a full head of hair where her mane was supposed to be, framed by two pointy ears on the side of her head like an animal’s. She was wearing the coat, a jersey from some sports team that Mike wasn’t familiar with, jeans, and some sort of slippers over her feet similar to slip-on sneakers. Lastly, her hands were actually hooves.

“Well,” he said with a big grin, “I only see one beautiful young woman here—” That’s what she calls herself, right? “—or am I mistaken?”

She blushed. “You…you actually think so?”

“I know so.”

She laughed; the tone was actually musical and far more pleasant than the laughter he’d heard from the school hottie earlier. “You must be the new guy. I overheard someone saying there was one coming in today.”

“Guilty as charged.” He offered his hand. “Mike Hengst.”

“Daisy Jo Martinez. Just call me DJ.” She proffered hers, and things just stopped. She giggled. “Well, you’d think I’d learn by now. Make a palm.” He did, and she pressed her hoof against it. He felt something like a suction cup grab and shake; whatever she was doing, it had a very strong grip. Suddenly she let go and the pressure disappeared.

“Wow, what was that?”

“Part of what makes me me, I guess. The scientists who studied me named it ‘hoofspace’ for some reason. I have hundreds of micromuscles in my hands and feet – and yes, I know they’re technically hooves – that help me grip things or walk upright easier.” With a natural motion, she reached into the open locker and pulled out a pen; her hoof seemed to wrap around it not unlike a human’s fingers.

“Well, if you ask me, that’s cool!” Mike said, genuinely interested. She didn’t seem at all like some kind of alien thing at all, but more like a normal person, just…well….

“Pony-shaped,” she said, matter-of-factly. When he looked at her oddly, she grinned sadly. “I’m not offended; everyone I meet for the first time has that same thought. Just please keep in mind that I’m a person regardless of whether or not I’m human, and we’ll get along fine. I get enough grief from other people who can’t accept me for who I am.” She reached in her backpack, pulling out a trashbag – why was she carrying a trashbag?

“Like Valerie Anderson?” he asked.

“A lifetime of Valerie,” she said morosely, as she opened the bag and then slipped on some rubber gloves; attempted to, at any rate, as the fingers dangled uselessly on the gloves. “I’ve been dealing with this for years,” she said with a disgusted look as she pulled out a white tube that looked like it had dried blood on it.

Mike blanched. He had an older sister, and when she lived at home back before she went off to college, he’d seen that a few times before.

DJ sighed, her nose wrinkling. “She knows I can still smell this crap. Though I should be thankful; last week it was actual horse dung.” She looked at him, and there was sorrow in her eyes. “Do yourself a favor, Mike. Stay clear of me. Don’t ever be my friend unless you want to get painted with this same brush. Marcy, Denise, Bev and Todd were friends once – all it took was mud and a note shoved into their lockers by Valerie’s bestest buddies to get the point across.” She looked around. “There’s no one here but you and me – you still have time to run.”

She looked at him evenly, and at a casual glance, she looked as if she could care less if he stayed or left. But for those looking right into her eyes, just like he was, he saw the true message: don’t leave me. I need a friend. For a second his mind went to an image of a wounded animal, begging to be rescued, but he shut that right out – she’d proven she was anything but an animal, and if anything was a person in need of rescuing, a damsel in distress. He couldn’t let her down.

“I think,” he started, “that you need help cleaning this mess up, because of you can smell it, it must be bothering the hell out of you, huh? Then after that, I dunno about you, but I could use some coffee. Want to join me?”

If he’d earned a smile from her before, he really got her sunniest one now. “Like you wouldn’t believe. I know just the place.”

“Yeah, I admit, it’s a bit weighty for people our age, but I think it’s really important that we familiarize ourselves with the culture of the past, so that we can continue to grow,” she said, taking another sip from her coffee.

“You are entirely too smart for your own good, you know that?” he joked.

“I know, but my parents love me enough to make sure I got an education; I owe it to them to make sure I value that education. I love them too much to fail,” she said in serious tones before shaking her head whimsically and adding, “Okay, so Mom thinks I shouldn’t bother reading the Divine Comedy, either, but hey, I lost a bet with Dad, so….”

Mike sat there, listening to her, growing completely fascinated by the being in front of him. Apparently DJ was very smart, smart as in “probably would end up school valedictorian” smart. She was well read, voraciously taking in everything from comic books to Milton’s Paradise Lost…and now, it seemed, Dante’s The Divine Comedy. And she did it all, she insisted, because her adopted parents had loved her enough to fight against virtually the whole world to ensure their daughter had a future. It sounded archaic and strange in this day and age amongst Stateside kids, but DJ was very much the dutiful daughter, appreciating everything her parents ever gave her in a time when kids took too much for granted.

She wasn’t without her quirks, though: she had lousy taste in music. Her interest in anything musical apparently stopped right around the time when she was born; by her own admission the most recent album she owned was Telefon Tel Aviv’s most recent album, made back in 2015.

“So you don’t listen to anything modern? My Chemical Romance? The Beat Crusaders? Hey Ocean? Han and the Solos? Lord Winkiebappers?”

“Oh, please – Han and the Solos are just doing the same thing Siouxie and the Banshees did all the way in the mid-90s, and they did it better! And the Beat Crusaders? Hah – give me Flying Lotus any day of the week! And who the fuck names their band ‘Lord Winkiebappers’, for crying out loud, excuse my French – not only do they have a stupid name, they’re clearly trying to be a Duran Duran clone.”

“Well, I won’t argue with you on the name, but Sidney Gustav is pretty awesome, if I may say, in the ‘totally complimenting a guy’s looks without trying to sound attracted’ way. Guy totally has a way with the girls.”

“Eh, you could do better,” DJ said. A second later, she said, “Um…not that I’m…ah, crap. Sorry if that sounded awkward.”

“I’m presuming you meant that as a compliment and not as hitting on me, right?”

“Yeah.”

He grinned. “Well, I’ll take it as the compliment, then.”

“Thanks. I wouldn’t want to make an ass out of myself the first time we met.”

“Naah, from what I can tell, and for the record, this is not hitting on you either, you’re a far better pick than Valerie Anderson. You, at least, have a personality.”

“Yeah, but sometimes I think I’d trade in my personality for some tits and ass,” she muttered. “I mean, look at me! I’m not human, I’m completely into guys, being a female – and yes, I do have girl parts despite what some of the rumors say – but I’m alone. The kind of guy who would fall in love with me has got to be one crazy son of a bitch, you know?”

“You’re selling yourself short, DJ. I bet you’ll meet a guy someday,” Mike assured her.

“Yeah, if he can look past my fuzzy ass,” she said, grinning.

“I just noticed you swear like a Sailor,” he commented. “Very unladylike.”

“Well, that’s because I take after Dad in that regard,” she admitted, “and he’s a former Navy Chief Petty Officer.”

“Really? We just moved here from NAVSTA Rota, where my Dad, who was a Senior Chief, retired from being the second division LCPO on the USS Ross.”

“Wow, small world. My Dad was stationed at PSD Rota when he was just a YN2 in the mid-90s.”

“Who knows, maybe they know each other?”

“I dunno. Dad got out after he and Mom hit it big in their respective careers. I don’t mean to brag – because if anything I need is yet more ammo for people to use against me – but my parents are somewhat famous.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. My Dad’s an author: Matt Martinez. He writes a lot of sci-fi and fantasy. His big work’s the Covenworld Chronicles.”

“The name’s familiar, though I haven’t read the series. Kinda was a Harry Potter fan instead. And your Mom?”

“Anna Van Hoed. She’s the a—”

“181st Meridian!” he said, excitedly, reaching into his backpack and pulling out a printed version of the 7th volume. “So your Mom’s Anna Van Hoed? Wow! Well, yeah, now I can see why you keep it on the downlow.”

“Yeah. With parents like that, you can see why education’s a bit on the important side, plus, well, they’re my parents, and what parent doesn’t want the best for their kid?”

“Yeah, I suppose so.”

“You know, you’re not at all what I thought,” she said.

“How so?”

“Well, when I first saw you, I thought you’d already hooked up with Valerie and just there to give me the next round of insults, so to speak; she’s got her hooks in a lot of people. Thankfully, the majority of the school doesn’t care about this whole ‘War of the Worlds’ bullshit, but she’s got her supporters, and they far outnumber mine.” She looked at him evenly, adding, “I just hope you won’t regret picking my side.”

“Hey, I like smart girls, and my friends back in Rota always said I found new and improved ways to get in trouble. So, you’re stuck with me. I’m just hoping people don’t hold it against me.”

“Oh, they will, if they’re tied to Valerie, I assure you, they will. But,” she said sweetly, “I’m very appreciative that you helped me.” Her eye wandered towards the wall, and then an embarrassed look crossed her face. “Oh, crap – I’ve got to get going.”

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’ve got to take my friend Erica her homework – she’s currently hospitalized – and then I’ve got to get to the church tonight to help with the blood drive. Granted, I can’t donate any blood for obvious reasons, but I can at least help.” She rose from the seat, and then had a sudden thought. Leaning over, she gave Mike a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for everything. You really know how to make a gal feel special.”

As she walked out of the coffee shop, the barista looked at him. “So, interested in DJ, huh?”

“How so? Just met her today. But she seems nice enough.”

“She is, even if she’s an alien. Too bad she’s screwed…all alone in our world.”

“I take it you’ve known her for a while?”

He nodded. “Yeah, her family’s been coming here for years, so I know them pretty well. She doesn’t show it, but I think she’s lonely. She’s got two really close friends, but I think she thinks about the future more than she should; and unless someone finds out more about her kind, well, it’s like being the last dodo on Earth – not a real great place to be.” He passed another latte to him. “Here, on the house.”

“Thanks.” Mike sat there, thinking for a second. “Well, I think she’s nice, in any case.”

“Yeah, but ‘nice’ don’t keep you smiling at the end of the day. Do me a favor: keep an eye on her; she’s had a rough year with one of her friends in the hospital and the other one not speaking to her for a while. I don’t think her headaches are done yet and that’s on top of being what she is.”

As Mike left the café to head home, he thought about what the barista had said. Marcy and the three he’d met today were okay and kind of reminded him of Tommy, Ben and Rachel back in Rota, but…high school was a different game with different rules; the people you were friends with in middle school might be your worst enemy just months later. He was having to learn that game now, in a place with entirely different rules, and yet it was nothing compared to the life the Alie…DJ had to live with.

Poor girl, he thought to himself. Ah, well, I can at least say hi to her tomorrow – what’s the harm in that?

“Heya, Mom, I’m home.” DJ walked into their little home on Meadow Drive, dropping her bags on the floor. She was completely exhausted from working at the blood drive, but hey, she agreed to it, so…. She went over and gave her mother a hug and kiss on the cheek. “What’s for dinner?”

“Heya, furball,” Anna told her daughter. “Making moussaka for dinner tonight. So how was school?”

“Dad still in LA? Need his advice regarding a guy.”

“Your father’s supposed to be home tomorrow night.” Anna’s brow arched. “You have a boyfriend now?”

DJ rolled her eyes. “Please, as if I’d ever get that lucky. No, actually, we just got in a new transfer student. Navy brat from Rota, and I was wondering if Dad might have some advice on what I can do to help ease him into Stateside life.”

“That’s very considerate of you, sweetie.”

“Well, I know what it’s like to be lonely,” she replied. “I mean, I have the greatest parents that God could have ever given me, but…well, you know.”

“I know. Oh, before I forget, there’s a letter for you on the table from a Dr. MacLaren from the University of Canterbury in New Zealand. There’s a questionnaire that they wanted you to fill out for their School of Biology.”

Her shoulders slumped; yet another science school wanting to use her as a virtual guinea pig – she’d had enough years of this. “Do I have to?”

“No, you don’t,” Anna told her, “but it’s your choice, DJ. I know you feel, and if you want to know the truth, I wish all these asshats would just leave you be, but so long as you’re the only one of your kind, it’s something you’ll have to deal with.”

She went over to the table and read the cover letter. “Well, at least it’s just a questionnaire. It’s not like those fucktards at the University of Seoul.” She shivered at their request from back in March; they actually wanted blood and cell samples so they could try to clone her outright instead of just medical cloning of tissue samples and the usual. But she was used to some people just seeing her as a well-trained animal, not much different from Koko the gorilla.

“Language,” Anna scolded her daughter.

“Tell me I’m wrong, Mom.”

“Well…you’re not, but you still shouldn’t be using language like that. Not ladylike.”

“Yes, because the boyfriend I’m never going to have is going to care about how I speak.”

“Sweetie, you’ll have someone to call your own someday, I’m sure. I just think he’d be more interested in a girl who doesn’t swear up a storm like your father.”

“Whatever.” DJ looked at the letter once more. “I’ll do it later,” she decided.

“If you’re sure….” her mother said with hesitation. “I don’t want you to feel you have to do it if you don’t want to.”

“Naaah, it’s just a fill-in-the-bubble. No biggie.”

From downstairs, a shout came. “DJ! I need help with my homework!”

Mother and daughter shared a bemused look before the younger woman said, “Well, I guess I should go help Sam.”

“I’d appreciate it – I’ve got to get back to my office to finish the renders for the next page.”

“Okay, will do.” Pausing by the fridge long enough to grab a Coke, she then went downstairs to help her kid brother.

“And yes, I think I’ve landed that job at the IRS, which I guess would be the Lord’s way of punishing me for all the times I’ve talked bad about them,” Carl Hengst joked in between bites of dinner.

“How was your day at school, son?” Lila Hengst asked.

“Well, I think I’m going to like it here. Far different than I expected.”

“Well, is it true what I heard, that there’s an alien going to your school – a real, live alien?” Hearing that, Carl dropped his fork, looking at his wife as though she were insane. Seeing that look, his wife explained, having heard it from their next door neighbor, whose daughter was a junior at Winchester Christian.

“Is this true?” Carl asked, completely confused.

“Yeah, only one of her kind,” Mike admitted. “I met her, DJ Martinez. She’s a nice girl—”

“How do you know she’s a girl?”

“Because she calls herself one and was raised like a human, so presumably her parents explained that to her.”

“Son, maybe you should stay clear of that alien, lest you end up some kind of pod person or something.”

“Uh, Dad, seriously – people have known her since she was a kid; I think someone would have blown a whistle by now if something was wrong.”

“Carl, you’re worried too much. Jackie says that her daughter has met…DJ, you said her name was, Mike? Anyway, Jackie’s daughter Deidre says that she’s just a normal girl, only that she looks like a pony walking on two legs instead of four.”

“A pony…as in a horse?”

“Actually, she doesn’t like being called that; she mentioned it’s like calling people ‘apes’. She just wants to be known as a person.”

“That’s fair enough,” Lila nodded. “So that being said, if you’re going to be friends with her, you should respect her wishes.”

“I’m still not sure it’s a good idea for him to make friends with something that could put a facehugger on him at any minute,” Carl warned.

Mike rolled his eyes. “Dad, I just met her today, okay? It’s not like I’m going to marry her or anything.”

The Stallion and the Girl, Part Two

“Stop me if you think that you've heard this one before”
- The Smiths

Erica was laughing hard. “Carlos, where do you even pick up this crap?”

He gave his friend a sloppy grin. “4chan, where else?”

Mike looked at him with feigned disdain. “Carlos, you poor, poor pathetic soul – no one goes to 4chan anymore, haven’t in years. You may as well say you hang out with your grandpa on Facebook.”

“Hey, I go there to read the weird stuff the druggies on ‘b’ come up with. Like check this little nugget of info out: officials in Ireland say that United Airlines Flight 3609 from Miami to Copenhagen had to make an emergency landing in Dublin yesterday on account of nearly…and get this…‘running into a pegasus.’ Can you get that shit?” He held his tablet, pointing to the story. “Man, where do they get that stuff?”

“Hey, looks like they got a picture.” Erica took it from Carlos, running her fingers across it until she brought up the picture. “DJ, you might want to see this.”

The humanized alien put down her burger, wiped off her “hands”, then took the tablet. Inspecting it, she then gave it over to Mike, who was sitting right next to her. “Seriously? I’m finding that laughable at best,” she shrugged.

Mike took it from her and looked at the picture. The picture was, as expected, grainy, fuzzy and blurred, despite the fact that it was supposedly taken with a state-of-the-art digital camera, the kind not attached to a phone and used by professionals. The pegasus, for the most part, looked as though it could be similar to DJ, with the same general body shape and size.

“DJ, I’m just saying….” Erica began.

She smiled. “Erica, you know how much I appreciate what you’re saying, but I doubt I’m some kind of pegasus. I’m in puberty right now; I think I would have grown wings or something if I was that. Besides, do I look like I have a neon green and hot pink mane and tail?”

“Uh, maybe the pegasus dyed it?” Carlos said, even though he knew it sounded stupid.

“Yeah, and maybe someone just took some rough images of me, made a CG model, added wings and a weird colored mane and tail, photoshopped the whole thing, and then said it was a pegasus. Next thing you’ll know, they’ll be trying to introduce my parents to ‘my long lost sister’ for ‘a small fee.’” She wiggled her hooves up and down as if making quotation marks in the air. “Trust me, my family’s been dealing with scam artists for years. If I actually had fellow members of my species show up suddenly, I’d hope they’d be advanced enough to not be stupid and nearly get sucked into a jet engine’s intake.”

“Look, I’m sure you’ll find out who your real family is,” Mike replied.

“No offense, but my parents, as far as I’m concerned, are my real parents – they’re my only parents. They found me abandoned in the backyard, which means I was a foundling, dumped by wherever I came from…and there’s no guarantee even on that. Heck, the government gave me a birth certificate, not a certificate of adoption, because no one could prove I’m not from this world,” she told him.

“I don’t think they abandoned you on purpose – your birth parents, that is,” Mike said. “I can’t see why anyone would do that.”

“Well, there’s the theory from the National Academy of Science that I don’t even have biological parents, that I’m just some sort of bioroid put together by aliens who somehow mixed up horses and people. I swear Dad wanted to throttle the person who wrote that report, because that person wanted to repeal my status and place me in petland.” She shrugged and said, “Regardless of what I am, though, I have parents who love me and I’m here to stay.”

He put his arm around her casually. “And we’re completely glad you did,” he said, giving her a casual hug.

“Thanks,” she said, blushing.

Carlos’ nose wiggled. “There – there’s that smell again, like someone farted up the Hershey factory,” he commented.

“Carlos, one, that’s disgusting,” Erica snapped at him. “Two, what the hell are you talking about?”

“It’s that smell of chocolate that’s been going on the past couple of days. Can’t you smell it?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Carlos pled with Mike. “Dude, help a brotha out here: tell me you can smell that!”

“Erica, as weird as he can be, he’s got a point: it does smell like chocolate all of a sudden.” He sniffed the air. “Smells great, too.”

“I’m not getting a whiff of anything.” She looked at DJ. “You’ve got the best nose out of all of us.”

DJ shook her head. “Not in the least. I think the guys are just imagining things.” Then a wicked smile broke on her face as she added, “Then again, Halloween’s next week, so maybe it’s just their juvenile minds at work.”

Mike would have added a retort to that, but then the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. As the students filed out of the cafeteria, Mike and Erica, who had history class together, headed off in the same direction towards their class; as they did, Mike ran into Marcy. “Heya, Marcy,” he said, waving. She, in turn, just ignored him and moved on as if he didn’t exist.

“Man, didn’t DJ warn you about that?” Erica asked, adding, “Damn shame, too – we both thought Marcy was cool, but when push comes to shove….”

Mike couldn’t believe how much changed in the span of a month and a half. When he first got here, Marcy and her friends had been cool and helpful. But as he drew closer to DJ, Carlos and Erica, it almost seemed as though the other four no longer wanted to be friends.

Or rather, they’re afraid of being friends with me, because it would imply they’re friends with DJ again, he sighed inwardly, and then ripe for more attacks. How the hell did a freshman like Valerie Anderson end up with such a lock on the school? Was it because every guy wanted to be with her and every girl wanted to be her? As for the former, he knew Carlos had no interest in her and he didn’t himself – much to her surprise, since she flirted with him on a regular basis. Almost as if she’s trying to rescue me from the “curse” of having a friendship with DJ.

He laughed inwardly at that. I’d rather be “cursed’ with DJ than have “paradise” with her! Valerie’s got what, her looks? Certainly not personality. DJ’s smart, she’s funny, she’s creative, she’s generous, she’s cute, she…. Wait – did I just say she’s cute? At that sudden thought, he blanked momentarily. She’s…she’s very cute, he conceded and then thought about that implication. Am I…?

“Hey, Mike, you okay?” Erica asked, pushing him. Mike looked and noticed he almost walked into the wall, missing the door by a full foot.

“Um, yeah. Thanks, Erica,” he responded. When she looked at him with an arched eyebrow, he said, “Sorry, had something on my mind.”

“Like what?”

“Um…the Safe Halloween party that DJ was holding for kids at the church – do you know if she needs any help still with that?”

Erica gave him a look that indicated she didn’t believe his excuse but was letting him off the hook regardless. “Well, she’s going to be holding a meeting afterschool for signups, if you want to join us.”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll be there.” Actually, I’d rather not, but now that I’ve put my foot in it….

DJ and Carlos, meanwhile, walked off to their algebra class.

“So, when are you going to tell him?” he asked.

“Tell who what?” DJ said, coyly.

“Dee, don’t give me that – you can’t kid a kidder. I’ve known you too long.”

Knowing he now knew, she dropped her guard. “So, you noticed, huh?”

“Well, I don’t want to get into your personal business, but…well, I was gaming with your little brother on Steam the other day, and he said the house smells like chocolate as of late and your parents can’t understand why.” She suddenly turned a shade of red, and he smiled. “I’m guessing it’s you, somehow.”

“Well, someone did pick up traces of PEA in my system, so that might have something to do with it.”

“What’s PEA?”

“I see you slept during science class this morning. PEA’s short for phenethylamine. It’s a major component of chocolate, and I’m guessing I’m…um…excreting it as a pheromone.” She looked completely embarrassed.

“No kidding. So that means you’re, ah….”

She blushed a furious shade of red. “Um, could we, uh talk about something else?”

“Sure. So you think…?”

She nodded weakly. “He’s…sweet and kind, and he doesn’t treat me like I’m some kind of monster, and he’s got a great sense of humor, and…well, he’s a total Alex, I swear.” Her voice was trailing, dreamy, completely lost in her fantasies.

Oh man, she’s got it bad, he thought, but instead of voicing that, he instead rolled his eyes and drolled, “Yeah, thanks for pointing out how completely inadequate I am in comparison.”

She tapped him in the stomach, pulling her punch because she knew she was much stronger than others. “Stop that. Seriously, though…I….” She blushed again before saying, “Yeah, I think I do. And it kinda scares me.”

Carlos stopped, then put his hand on her shoulder. “Why? All Erica and I have wanted is to see you happy, girl. You’ve got a tougher road ahead than anyone else on this mudball in space, so why let it scare you when you’ve got someone that gets you all hot and bothered?”

She gave him a glare. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about that?”

“It’s a figure of speech, DJ, ease off on the throttle. What I’m saying though, is, if you like him, why not go for it?”

“Then you explain to me why you won’t ask Wendy Sinclair out like you’ve wanted to all this time.”

“Uh, totally different set of circumstances there, DJ – in case you forgot, Wendy’s dad works for ICE?”

“Yeah, kinda forgot that, sorry.”

“Yup, that you did. But you have a chance, and if you like him, you should go for it. What’s the worst he’s gonna say, ‘no’? If then, that’s his loss. Trust me, I think you have a shot.”

They met in room 235 directly after school. As expected, there weren’t too many students showing up; most high schoolers, after all, had other things to do with their time than to watch kids. Fortunately, there were several generous – or, considering they were dealing with kids wanting candy, brave – teens that volunteered for that night and DJ managed to snag about seventeen to watch a crowd of five hundred from most of the churches and Christian schools in the area.

As Mike headed towards the classroom, he saw DJ talking to a huge, meaty, football player kind of guy. She seemed at ease talking to him, moreso than with others he’d seen, and laughing and joking with him. Something welled up within Mike suddenly, followed quickly by a sort of sorrow that seemed to blend with that other feeling; it took a second to go by before he realized, strangely enough, it was jealousy.

DJ turned and saw him, then waved. “Mike! Glad you could come!” She turned back to the other guy, saying, “I’ll call you later tonight, okay?” He nodded and walked off.

“So, who’s that guy?” he asked.

“Oh, Paul? That’s Paul Cooper – he’s Erica’s boyfriend,” DJ replied. “Her birthday is next month and he asked me for some suggestions for a birthday gift, but since she’s going to be here I told him I’d just call him tonight and we can talk about it then. Why, something up?”

“Uh…I just wanted to make sure someone else wasn’t picking on you,” he lied. “Didn’t want you to have to deal with another round of Valerie’s antics.”

She positively beamed. “That’s so sweet of you! Thanks, but Paul’s cool – I know he looks tough, since he’s a linebacker on the JV football team, but he’s really just a big pussycat.” She blushed slightly, and then strangely enough, there was that scent of chocolate again, and it hit him like a ton of bricks…something in him just wanted to….

“So, um,” she stammered as she recovered, “you…uh, here to help with the plans for the Safe Halloween Party?”

He nodded. “Yup. I attended something similar thrown by MWR when I was just a kid, so I figured it’d be my way of paying it forward.” Earlier, he’d lied when he told Erica he wasn’t interested, but over the course of the remainder of the day, he’d thought it over and decided it’d be a good idea to help after all.

She would have said more, but Carlos decided to yell from the other end of the hall. “Heya, the party man is here!” He walked over, a grin on his face a mile wide as he saw both standing together. As he got within reasonable volume distance, he commented, “Hey, DJ, remember that article from this morning? About the pegasus?”

“About the fake pegasus, you mean?”

“Yeah, that – well, sounds like you already know, but yeah, it looks like it’s a fake. The photographer swears it’s the real deal, but some guy on my Diaspora feed pointed out this was the same camera guy who was caught doctoring pictures of the Paris riots back in 2019, so naturally even just pictures of trees by this guy are suspect.”

“Toldja,” DJ said. “But I appreciate you looking out for me.” She noticed that Erica and a couple others were now coming to join them, so DJ called into the classroom for everyone to shut up so they could start.

“Okay, so why am I helping you carry your books home from school when you have a perfectly good boyfriend for that?” Carlos grumbled to Erica as they headed home from the meeting.

“Because I think you and I need to talk about our pal DJ and about the guy who’s got the hots for her,” Erica commented. “I think it kinda unnerves him a little bit, but I think our boy Mike is starting to feel a little awkward around her.”

“Really? That would make two of them.” Carlos explained everything about the chocolate scent and DJ’s uncomfortable admission that she might be the origin of them. “So, yeah, pheromones.”

Erica blinked, not believing. “Weird. I wasn’t even aware pheromones could affect humans, since all the science books I’ve read say humans are immune to them.”

“Well, as much as we disregard it normally, DJ isn’t exactly human so maybe the kinds of pheromones she puts out do affect humans; I did some reading on the subject and it turns out that PEA has a definite effect on humans, a euphoric one.”

“See, I knew you were smart on occasion,” she laughed and was met with a definitely nasty look. “But seriously, if it affects all people, then why didn’t it hit me?”

“Maybe it doesn’t have an effect on the XX set,” Carlos theorized, “and that’s not important right now anyway. The problem is gonna be getting them to admit how they feel to each other.”

“Wow…DJ getting a boyfriend,” Erica said, with a whimsical smile. “Our pal is growing up.”

“Yeah,” Carlos said with the same caring tones before adding, “Now, if we can just get you to do so, things’ll be great around here.”

Once home, DJ knew where she needed to go for advice. Dropping her bags by the door, she went to give her mom a hug and ask what was for dinner before racing downstairs to where her parents had their respective offices. Once by her father’s, she knocked.

“Heya, furball,” Matt Martinez said, looking at his daughter. “How was your day?”

She went to hug him and give him a kiss. “Great, Dad, but…I need some advice.”

“I’m always ears for my little girl. What’s up?”

“Um…how do I say this….” She tapped her “hands” together as if she were kneading her fingers.

“You need advice from your old man because you think you might be falling in love and you need to talk to someone but you don’t want to talk to your mother because even though you love her you think she’ll make Another Stupid Mistake like the time she was talking to you about the Birds and the Bees?” When DJ looked at him, completely stupefied, he laughed. “For what it’s worth, when I had this talk at your age, well…let’s just say that you’re going to get better advice than I got and we’ll leave it at that. Pull up a chair.”

DJ went to grab the spare chair by the wall and sat next to him. “Well,” she started, “I’m really not sure how to start.”

“Guy or girl?”

She looked at him oddly. “Guy. I’m straight, Dad.”

He shrugged. “Had to ask. I’d still love you regardless, but there’s different ways of approaching things. So…is it that new kid you’ve been hanging around lately? The one from Rota?”

“Mike?” She nodded. “He…he makes me feel special. He doesn’t look at me like I’m some sort of thing, he treats me like a person. He’s funny, he’s charming, he’s smart.” She sighed tenderly. “I just feel like I’m on top of the world when I’m with him.”

“Well, that explains the pheromones.” She looked at her father with surprise again. “Your mother and I knew about it; it was in that biological report that the NIH did on you when you first started puberty. Just do me a favor and don’t tell your brother about it; he’s still a little too young to understand. But in case he asks, we’ve just been telling him we’re using chocolate-scented incense.”

She smiled in relief; she had no idea how to explain what was going on. “Thanks, Dad.”

“So, does he feel the same way about you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m just too clueless to notice, or he genuinely doesn’t, but he at least likes me as a friend, and he’s been there several times to defend me from the Valerie Squad.”

Matt grunted. “Is that still going on? I thought she’d have grown out of it by now.”

“I think I’m going to have to put up with it until college,” she moaned. “But I talked with Carlos about it and he thinks I should go for it.”

“Well, I think you’d need to find out first before you do anything. You don’t want to scare off a friend because you came on too hard; likewise, you also don’t want to look like you’re throwing yourself at him.”

“You mean like Valerie’s been doing?”

“She’s hitting on him too, huh? How’s he reacting to that?”

Her face contorted into a bemused grin. “Well, from what I can tell, he looks embarrassed. But I can’t tell if it’s embarrassment because he thinks she’s a slut, because he thinks I’m going to take it the wrong way, or all of the above.”

“Well, let’s get something straight right now: if you decide to go that far, protection – I mean it. I’ll buy the damn condoms myself, but I want you protected.”

“DAD!” DJ’s face was a furious shade of red. “That never even entered my mind!”

“Maybe not, but…look, sweetie, I’ll be honest: this is a unique situation for everyone. We don’t know what you’re capable of insofar as hormones, reproduction and the like.”

“I thought I had more chromosomes than humans.”

“Yes, but the researcher also said that he doesn’t know if your body can play chromosomal match or whatnot. In any case, the point I’m trying to make is that yes, we raised you to be a proper young woman, and I know you’ll probably wait until marriage, but saying you’re going to and actually being in that situation are two different things. Your mother would probably not want to talk about this, but I prefer to because I want you to think about the situations you’ll be in.”

“Sounds like you’ve thought this through.”

“DJ, when I was your age, I was an asshole. Slept around with all my girlfriends – hell, in one case, slept with one girlfriend and then slept with her sister since she was available. And no, I’m not proud of that now.” He took off his glasses as he tended to do when he was being his utmost serious with her. “And then I think about all those girls and how things could have been different if their fathers had talked to them about things like this, like when your grandfather talked to your mother, which is why she was a virgin until we got married.”

“And I take it Abuelo didn’t give you the talk?”

“Oh hell no – Dad was a purist about that sort of thing. Unfortunately, my Uncle Salvador was anything but. What I got was the Porn ‘n’ Player lecture, stuff like this.” He leaned forward, whispering something in her ear. She listened at first, and then her face went slack as she went completely white.

“Your uncle told you that?” When Matt nodded, she said, “Um…no wonder you wanted to have this talk with me.”

“Exactly. But ultimately, DJ, I want you to do what you feel is right after you’ve considered all your options. You might end up with a boyfriend; you might end up with heartbreak. But it’s all a part of growing up. I wish you didn’t have to deal with the Sturm und Drang, but it’s part of the process everyone goes through when they go from kid to adult.”

“So it wouldn’t be a problem if I had a boyfriend?”

“Well, whomever you end up with, I think your mother and I would want to meet him. And though I probably don’t need to say this, we still expect you to keep up your grades; I think we can also increase your allowance, just in case. And remember, no matter what, we love you, okay?”

She leaned forward, hugging him. “Thanks, Dad. You’re the greatest.”

He hugged her back. “Only because I have the greatest daughter. Now, scoot; I’ve got to get this first draft done before my editor starts another ‘you’re late’ shitfest.” Matt waited until the footfalls of his daughter walking up the stairs finished before he said aloud, “Did I miss anything?”

“Not that I can think of.” Anna leaned against the door, where she’d been listening the whole time; DJ had never noticed. “Though I still would’ve preferred you didn’t go over the sex part – I still think she’s too young to even think of that.”

“Love, our daughter is a growing 14-year-old woman, and as you well know, that’s hard enough. But she’s the only one of her kind and I won’t let her walk into morally dangerous territory because I didn’t do my job as a father. Maybe if other fathers did theirs, I would have taken advantage of a lot less girls when I was her age.”

He knew he couldn’t turn to his parents for advice. His mother, although supportive, would probably tell his dad; and his dad, for reasons that he had yet to fathom, just couldn’t quite comprehend that DJ was of no harm to anyone – if Carl Hengst was joking, the joke had long gone stale. Fortunately, being the youngest of three kids had its advantages.

“So, Mikey, what’d you want to talk about?” Unfortunately, his older brother Chaz, a programmer living in San Jose, was too busy at the moment; thankfully his older sister Shelby always made time for her baby bro.

“Look, I’ve got girl problems—”

“And you didn’t want go to Dad because he’ll give you the whole ‘when I was a young Sailor’ crap and you didn’t want to go to Mom, because she’d tell him, am I right?”

He laughed. “You know it.”

“So, tell me all about this girl. I’m guessing that since you guys are living in Mom’s hometown, you guys are living in Grandma and Grandpa’s old place?”

“Yeah, especially since they have that retirement condo down in Miami, so they didn’t need this place anymore. Anyway, she’s very special. Well, she’s special to me, but this is one of those occasions where she’s special all around.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense – who’d you hook up with? Some Senator’s daughter?”

“Well, actually, one of my friends is the daughter of a Senator, but she’s just a friend. As for her, well….” Mike took a big breath, then went over everything he could about DJ, what he liked about her, what her positive and negatives were, and the impact of “The War of the Worlds.” He continued for several minutes before finishing with, “And lastly, no, I don’t think this is some goofy crush. I don’t know how she feels, but…as strange as it is I think I’m in love with her.”

“I see.” Shelby was quiet on the other end, clearly composing her thoughts. “Well, this is going to sound stupid, but…are you compatible? And no, I don’t mean in the sex way, so don’t get your jimmies in a rustle. I mean, are you going to wake up one morning and suddenly she’s talking about ‘yellow perpendicular with making blue bisector’ or some incomprehensible shit like that?”

“As far as I can tell, and from talking to her best friends who have known her since she was a little kid, she’s got a thoroughly human mindset. And this is going to sound crazy, but I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who was so, well, human before. It’s almost like she’s trying to be the perfect image of what being a human’s all about.”

“Well, considering she’s not one, that’s kinda understandable. So, next question, if you kiss her, are you going to melt into nothingness?”

He groaned. “Please don’t say that; I get enough of that shit from Dad.”

“Hey, as strange as it is, Dad’s just worried about you. Remember that he was studying to be a marine biologist before he decided to join the Navy, so he’s heard about things that make people freak. You know about anglerfish, right? Male tries to mate with female; he literally gets dissolved into the female’s body until there’s nothing left but sperm.”

“What the hell has that got to do with DJ? She’s not a fish.”

“Mikey, not arguing with you on that; you know by now that if it has nothing to do with the Fleet Dad overreacts. But let me ask you two things, because in the end it really boils down to that. One, are you really sure about this, and that it’s not just some attraction because she’s a kindred soul – I know plenty of guys who like the same things I do, but fuck if I’m ever giving them the time of day. And two, if she were human, would you go for it?”

Mike was silent for what seemed like forever, so much so that Shelby had to ask if he was still on the line. “Yeah, I’m still here; sorry, was just really giving thought to what you were saying.”

“The fact that you are makes me smile, little bro – I’d rather you do that than just jump in and do something stupid.”

“No, it’s not just that. There’s just something about her that makes my heart go wild, and makes me just want to spend…well, I’m not going to say the rest of my life, obviously; that’s too melodramatic and whatnot. And if she were human, yes, I would have just jumped in and done something stupid.”

She laughed. “At least you’re honest about that. But do you know if she feels the same way?”

“Honestly? No, and that worries me. She’s a friend and I don’t want to lose that friendship even if she doesn’t want to be my girlfriend. Plus, there’s something else that I have to think about. I’ll be the first human who has ever dated someone outside the species.”

“Shit, I hadn’t even thought about that. Look, I can’t even begin to help you on that one, Mikey, sorry – as much as I joke that my current boyfriend’s an alien just because he’s from California, you’re about to have me beat by a country mile.”

“No, but you’ve given me plenty of things to think about, so I appreciate that.”

“Look, I gotta go; I’ve still got a crap ton I need to do for my senior thesis, otherwise I’d listen. Tell me how it turns out, okay?”

“Yeah, will do.”

“Love ya, Mikey! Take care! Bye!”

Mike hit the off button on the phone, then lay back on the bed, thinking. In the space of just a month and a half, he’d gone from thinking of how much he’d hate the place to being on the verge of getting a girlfriend quite literally unlike no other. To say she invaded his mind was an understatement: all he could think about were her eyes, her smile and the lips he wanted to kiss.

Before he knew it, he’d drifted off to sleep, mind constantly dreaming about his teen angel, the girl with the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. And in his dreams, and hopefully they mirrored reality, those eyes looked only at him.

“Look, Valerie, just write it off, okay?” Valerie’s best friend told her. “That Mike guy might be a total Alex, but he’s hanging around with the Freak and its buddies.”

The blonde huffed, clearly in command of her little clique. “And that’s why we need to make sure that we save him from the Freaks! I mean, look at the guy: who wants to hang with a stuck-up bitch, an illegal and a…fuck, even after all this time I don’t even know what that thing is.” She sighed. “Look, Brittney, if there was a guy you liked and you wanted to make sure he didn’t make a mistake that he’d pay for later on, wouldn’t you want to do something?”

“Well, yeah, but….” Brittney became quiet, the gears of her mind straining mightily to turn. “Look, all I’m saying is that there are better fish in the road and Logan really wants to go out with you again.”

“Logan made his bed when he said he wanted to take a break from the relationship,” Valerie said haughtily. “I don’t care if he quote unquote ‘made a mistake.’ I’ve got my eyes set on a new guy now and I’m not going to rest until I’ve got my arms around him like I deserve.”

“Look, Val,” the third member of the clique, Serena, spoke up. “How much of this is because you like the guy and how much is because you want to deny the horse another friend?”

“Well, both, actually,” she said. “Humans deserve friends; things like whatsitsname deserve masters – I mean, I don’t care if it talks; parrots talk and no one’s about to let one of those go to school.” She grinned. “Eventually I’ll get my hands on Mike, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think we should let him stay around those freaks a second longer: I mean, what happens if that thing goes into heat?”

“You know, I might have a plan on how to get rid of the problem,” Serena commented. “It means that Mike will temporarily go with someone else, but you can easily steal him from her later.”

“Oh?” Valerie said, her interest piqued. “Do tell.”

The Stallion and the Girl, Part Three

“Que sem ela não pode ser”
- João Gilberto

“Are you sure?” Mike said, completely surprised. He looked at both Carlos and Erica, scanning for some indicator, some sign that this was all a joke at his expense, that what he heard couldn’t be true and he’d just embarrassed himself in the hugest way possible. The three were in Isaac’s Caribbean Café – The Best Little Jamaican Coffee Shop in Winchester! –sans DJ. She was up in Baltimore for the day; the Johns Hopkins Biomedical Research Center wanted to harvest stem cells from her to create replacement organ tissue and bone should she ever be in a position to require them.

Both of his friends sat there, drinking their coffee, not saying a thing.

“Guys, this isn’t funny,” he warned. “If you’re just fucking with me, come clean now.”

“We’re not,” Erica said, finally. “DJ feels about you the same way as you do about her.”

Mike looked at them like they were crazy. “She does?”

Carlos looked at Erica. “Should we tell him?” When she nodded, Carlos said, “You know that Nestle stuff you’ve been sniffing the last couple of days?”

“Yeah. Smells great, though last time it made me want to….”

The Hispanic teen grinned. “Yeah, thought so, boy. The thing is, you were feelin’ it because she was pumpin’ it – those were pheromones you were feeling. Apparently she produces a pheromone, PEA – it’s a natural chemical in cocoa – and it’s tailored to work on people she’s attracted to.”

Mike suddenly felt downcast. “So all I’m feeling is just the need to breed? That’s it? Just because of chemicals?”

Erica shook her head. “How do you feel about her now?”

“I’m still attracted to her because of her smile, her personality, her brains. And though it might be silly to say, I’m not attracted to her because of her looks; she could be human and I’d still feel the same way.”

“And when was the last time you talked to her?”

“That’d be Friday evening, on the phone, when I had to tell her about the stuff I got set for the party. Not since.”

Erica smiled. “And there you go – pheromones only last for a few minutes. You haven’t seen her in three days, so the pheromones have long since worn off. Furthermore, and be honest with yourself: the pheromones make you want to get physical with her…but you’re not attracted to her for her looks.” She reached over and patted his hand. “Face it, tiger: you just hit the jackpot.”

A smile seemed to come onto his face as majestically as a sun rose over the horizon. “So I’m in love with a girl like no other.”

Carlos grinned. “Yeah. Of course it goes without saying that if you hurt her, we’ll beat the motherlovin’ crap outta you.” Erica joined in on that smirk, and for a second, Mike felt as though he were under a microscope.

“Well, that settles it, then. If she’s feeling the same way about me that I am about her, I probably should say something, you know?”

“Why not wait until the night of the party?” Erica suggested. “It’s a casual place, no one’s on the spot and it’ll give you a couple of weeks to think about what you’ll say and give me a couple of weeks to prepare her.”

“Why do you need to prepare her?” both boys asked.

“Guys, it’s a girl thing,” Erica replied. “Falling in love is a special moment for girls, and it’s really going to be a special moment for her. Who knows, might even be special for the both of you, a first step in a life together forever.”

Mike chuckled. “You make it sound as if I’m going to marry her.”

“Well, who knows?” she said. “My aunt Kerri met my uncle while they were in high school, so I can’t see why you can’t have a lifetime of love.”

“Too far into the future to even see,” Mike answered. “Heck, I’ve just barely thought that I have to think about in the relative near future where I’m going for college.”

“Hello, Marcy,” Serena said to the girl as she ran into her at the Apple Blossom Mall.

“Oh…he-hello, Serena,” Marcy said nervously. Of all the people to run into, she had to run into the brains of the Valerie Squad. Valerie’s reputation could get someone in trouble with just a say-so, but it was really bad if you ran afoul of Serena. There was already a rumor that Serena had cooked up something while in Eighth Grade to get a rival girl arrested for shoplifting; whether or not it was true, it had added to her fearsome reputation.

“Easy, I don’t bite,” she said. “In fact, I was going to get a bite for dinner; my parents are out of town and I’ve been dying to try the boulangerie on the other side of the mall. Would you like to join me? My treat.”

“Sure!” Marcy said, enjoying a chance to eat out. Things were tight at home right now and Marcy had to give up her piano lessons because the family couldn’t afford them, instead having to learn the way the first piano players did: by ear.

Then a sudden thought came upon her: why was Serena being nice to her?

As if somehow reading her mind Serena gave her a smile and said, “I must confess, I have a problem as of late and I don’t know how to solve it. I can’t go to Valerie, you see, because…well, she’s my friend and I wouldn’t want to be at odds over this. So I thought I’d just go with a neutral party, someone known around school for being fair. That’d be you, Marcy.”

“I…see.” Marcy was confused, to say the least: she had that kind of reputation around school? It was a first to her.

“I was talking to Jenna Barnaby,” Serena said breezily, “and she told me that the reason she and Doug Summers patched things up over the summer is because you talked to both and helped them get through their problems. Plus, I have to admire your determination: your family life being the way it is, and despite all the stuff you have to do for school and band and keep up those grades.

“How’d you…?”

Serena laughed. “Jenna told me everything; in fact, she couldn’t stop gushing about how much you did to save their relationship. Ah, here we are.” They were now at the front of the Palais du Rose, a Franco-Vietnamese restaurant that had just opened up a few months ago and was already the talk of the small town. The maître d’ showed them to a table and the two continued to talk.

“Oh, okay. Well, I was glad to help Jenna. She and Doug are perfect for each other, and it’d be a shame to see them break up because he went to Winchester City High instead of our private school.” As the waiter brought menus, she asked, “So what can I do for you?”

Serena blushed. “I…well, okay, I’ll be forthright: I’m kinda smitten on Michael Hengst. You know the new kid you and your group hang out with?”

There was a slightly crestfallen look. “I...uh, well, he hangs around the…the Alien Club now more than us, but I know him. Why?”

Serena smiled inwardly. I knew it. There had been a rumor going around that Valerie had threatened Marcy and her group to stop talking to Mike lest something bad happened; in truth, Valerie just didn’t care, since she had her eye on Mike regardless. However, the truth apparently was that Marcy stopped speaking to him because she liked him; she was the kind of girl who pushed away those she liked. She thought about her next words carefully and said, “I’d like to tell him how I feel, but…like I said, Valerie’s a friend and I don’t want to step on her toes. So if I got a go-between, well you know, right?”

There was a look in Marcy’s eyes just for a second, a flicker of an idea. “Oh, I couldn’t do that.” The waiter picked that moment to show up and take their orders; to Serena, it was perfect, because it gave Marcy a couple of extra moments to soak on that idea.

“You might not believe this, but when it comes to guys, I’m rather shy. So I could genuinely use the help.” In truth, Serena wasn’t much for the opposite sex, but that had more to do with the fact that no guy had yet to match her exacting standards. “And I really could use your help.”

“Well….”

“Please?” Serena went into full manipulative mode, laying one thickly on the other girl. “I’d really be in your debt if you did.”

That clinched the deal. “Okay, if you want me to, I’ll do it.”

“Perfect. You don’t know how much this means to me.” At that point, Serena knew she had Marcy hook, line and sinker. As the other girl had more exposure to Mike while “trying to work for Serena’s sake”, natural emotions would take over and Marcy would push for her own feelings. Mike would naturally respond and per the plan, Marcy would have a couple of months with Mike before Serena moved to break them up, setting the stage for Valerie to swoop in and get her man.

After all, Serena thought to herself, that’s what I’m really learning in school, after all – that people are idiots and all it takes is the right nudge to get them to do what you want.

Sam sat next to his sister in the car as they sped down the westbound Interstate 70 on the way back home from Baltimore, their parents talking about business related to their company; DJ wasn’t really interested, so she let her brother command her time.

“DJ, are you gonna help me with my costume this year?” he asked.

“Well, what did you have in mind?” she asked.

“I was thinking about…maybe….” he trailed off.

“Maybe what?” The silence was deafening. “Okay, out with it before you deal with the noogies.”

“Well…I was thinking I could make…um…a….”

DJ crossed her arms, a faux-stern look on her features. “I’m waiting.” By now the conversation had caught the attention of Matt and Anna, and while neither said anything, they were both peeking through the rear-view mirror.

“Iwaswantingtomakeaponycostumesoyouwouldn’tbealone!” he blurted out.

“You wanted to what?”

“I was hoping…you’d help me make a, uh, ‘pony’ costume so you wouldn’t be the only one!” he said, knowing his sister really didn’t like the word and he was probably going to get in trouble for it.

Neither of her parents said anything, so DJ just assumed the ball was in her court. Thus she responded by giving her younger brother a hug, feeling really touched that he cared enough to do so. “You know, normally I really hate that word, Sam, but I know what you mean.”

“So you’ll help me?”

She grinned, giving him a noogie anyway. “Yeah. I can’t promise it’ll look exactly like me, but we’ll see what we can do, okay?” She noticed the brief glances of approval given to her by her parents via the rear-view mirror and she flashed a silent smile in return.

Matt finally spoke. “So, you think you’ll be okay running the church Safe Halloween Party on your own? I know you’ll have some of your fellow students there, but do they have plans in case you get overwhelmed?”

“Oh, yeah. Apparently Father Wakka’ll be there. He told Carlos that he’s making a Maori warrior costume for himself. Also Pastor Bixby from Mt. Carmel Baptist and Rabbi Horowitz from Beth El will be there as well as someone from the local Islamic Society. We should be covered.”

“Do you have other big plans we should be aware of?” Anna asked.

“Um, no, why?”

“I just thought you might want to take the time to talk to your friend Mike about…well, you know.”

She leaned against the back seat, feeling her tail pressed against the cloth and wishing that someone at one of the car companies would somehow get the idea to make seats that took her tail into account; on long enough drives, she ended up fidgeting from the pressure. “I really don’t know. I’m still concerned that I might screw things up, you know?”

“Screw what up, DJ?” Sam asked.

“You’ll find out when you’re older,” she told him. Turning back to her parents, she asked, “Well, do you have any suggestions for a costume? Erica’s trying to get me to join her in her latest costume stunt, but frankly I really don’t want to.”

“Why, something wrong with it?” Anna asked.

“Oh, not at all: I just don’t exactly have the talent for electronics and all that fine-tune precision stuff she needs for her costume. We’re talking LEDs and circuits sort of stuff, the kind of thing that even your fingers couldn’t really deal with. I swear, with those fingers of hers, she’s going to be a surgeon one day.”

“Well, I have an idea, if you want to hear it, furball,” her father commented. “There was a costume party that your mom and I went to in Santa Monica before we got married and I still have some of the stuff for it, if you’re interested.”

“Sure, Dad, I’m so out of ideas right now that I’m willing to do it,” DJ replied.

“Marcy, so what are you going to do?” Beverly asked. “I mean, if you step on her toes like that, Serena’s going to make your life a living hell, the kind of hell that simply getting your parents to send you to another school isn’t going to help – and bear in mind there are only two high schools in the area that you can go to.”

“I know!” she commented. “Don’t you think I know that?” She sat on Beverly’s bed, hugging a plushie close to her; the other girl well knew what Marcy was imagining holding close to herself. “I don’t think she knows how I feel about him?”

“But I thought you were avoiding him now that he hangs with the Alien Club!”

“It’s because I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of him,” she murmured. “But I don’t think I can hide how I feel about him much longer.”

“Then why don’t you tell him at the Safe Halloween Party?” Denise, who was also present, asked. “I mean, he’s helping out at the party and it’d be the perfect place to confess to him, with no stress whatsoever.”

“I didn’t know that,” Marcy told her. “But that’s a great idea!”

“So you’re saying you’re going to this party on behalf of Serena, and you’re going to steal him for yourself? That’s just stone, girl, just stone.”

“Hey, if it’ll get me the guy of my dreams, it’ll be worth it.”

“Icarus, Marcy, Icarus,” Beverly warned her. “You better be careful of what you’re going for, because if you piss off Serena, she’s the worst of the Valerie Squad, and you know Valerie’s going to step in to help her best friend. You’re walking into a minefield, I’m telling you.”

“Plus, if you want to know,” Denise continued, “there’s a rumor – it’s just a rumor, mind you – that Mike’s interested in DJ. Probably someone misunderstood something somebody else said, or whatevs, but that’s the rumor.”

Marcy laughed. “Oh, please – we go to a Christian school! I think Mike knows better than to commit bestiality by dating her!”

“Um…she’s legally a person. If he dated her, it wouldn’t b—”

“It’s not going to happen,” Marcy said, more forcefully. “I’m going to confess to him, he’s going to be mine, and then let Serena come after me, because I’ll have the best guy in school as my boyfriend and she can just suck it!”

Two weeks passed, and Halloween came. The school was filled with costumes both original – someone had spent some serious money and made their own Star Wars stormtrooper costume – and ridiculous, such as the usual bedsheet togas and store-bought outfits. Even a few of the teachers got involved, the principal even going so far as to dress like Frankenstein – the eponymous Victor, not the misnamed monster. The school had a half-day schedule as to allow the community to have fun at Halloween and all the various events of the evening.

“So, are you nervous about tonight?” Erica asked Mike. She was dressed up as Ambika from Claude & Monet; a costume she’d said took forever to make.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Mike replied. His costume was a copy of Rudolf Valentino’s famous Sheik character from a hundred years back. Mike had actually wanted to wear something else, but Shelby had flown in the weekend before just to get him to wear this, saying that it was far more romantic.

“Dude, you’ll be fine, trust us.” Carlos, to the surprise of absolutely no one, dressed as a Venetian jester, with an expensive costume that he’d had Erica help him with. “She was telling me just last night that she was trying to come up with a costume that would impress you. I mean, hell, she’s even trying to get your attention with costumes, dude!”

“I hope not,” he commented. “I love her for who she is, not because she’s flashing skin.”

“You know,” Carlos said, “I have no idea if she can ‘flash skin’, per se. She’s fuzzy, but even we don’t know about the girl parts.”

Erica, with a wicked smile on her face, went up to Mike and whispered something in his ear. The look on his face was stunned. “She does?”

The girl nodded. “Yup. What, you thought she had horse udders? Why do you think she wears a bra?”

“I…never really thought about that,” Mike blushed. “It’s not like I’ve known her for years, you know?”

“Trust me: whatever she is, she’s the human being equivalent of whatever she is, including the anatomical parts,” Erica assured her. “So if you two ever want t—”

“Hey, sorry I’m late!” DJ came running up to them and unlike the three of them it could be said she had the oddest costume. Weird shirt with some sort of psychedelic teardrop designs on it, slacks, beads, and round sunglasses with rose-colored lenses. She even styled her hair into light waves. “Okay, what’d I miss?”

The three of them stared at her. Mike was the first to speak. “Okay, what are you supposed to be?”

“John Lennon, during the Magical Mystery Tour years.” When the inevitable blank stares came, she drolled, “John Lennon, one of the Fab Four? The Beatles? Hello?”

“The Beatles – I think the music teacher mentioned them back when we took Music in Eighth Grade,” Erica commented, still not comprehending.

“Isn’t that the band Bono was in?” Carlos asked, completely lost.

“Yeah, that was music before rock n’ roll was invented, wasn’t it?” Mike said, equally as clueless as the other two.

DJ shook her head sadly. “You poor, poor deluded fools. How could you not know that they wrote songs like ‘Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band’!”

“Wait – I thought that was Led Zeppelin,” Mike said. Once he decided that he was going to ask DJ out, he took the effort to try to learn all the past music that DJ listened to, with a little help from Shelby, who was studying to be a teacher. But apparently even his older sister was stunned by the sheer amount of old stuff that DJ listened to.

The humanized alien sighed dramatically. “All the philistines in the world I had to talk to today and it just had to be my best friend and my boyfr—” She stopped suddenly, catching her Freudian slip.

Unfortunately for her, so did everyone else. “What was that, DJ?”

DJ was turning twenty shades of red. “N-nothing.”

“Are you sure?” Mike asked, somewhat surprised to have heard it from her own mouth.

In turn, she turned and ran as fast and far as she could without going into four-wheel drive. Granted, her speed was no faster than the average person jogging, but she was pushing herself as fast as she could.

As she rounded the corner, Erica told him. “Tonight. For both your sakes.”

Mike was remembering all of what everyone told him as he went to go get the brooms, watching as the kids were being ushered out for the evening, the party over. It had been moderately successful, enough so that the rep from the Islamic Society offered to hold it at their building next year. He also admitted he’d had more fun than he’d expected.

But the best part of it all was the way DJ carried herself. At a couple of points, several people smelled chocolate in the air, and she tried to hide her embarrassment. Her tail also rose dramatically for some reason at one point and she almost had to step on it to get it to go back to normal. It was almost as if it had a mind of its own, something she joked about on occasion – but not today. And for most of today, she seemed to be walking on eggshells, enough so that at one point someone asked if she was feeling okay.

He now knew: she felt about him the same way he felt about her. And he couldn’t deny it any longer. Yes, his father told him that there was a certain melodrama to teen love; his parents had finally figured out that he was mooning over someone but fortunately neither of them put two and two together and Shelby had said nothing about what she knew. However, she did tell him to follow his heart.

Tonight would be that night.

“Um…Mike?” A voice sounded next to him and he looked to his right, seeing Marcy there. She’d come at the last minute, having escorted a few of the kids in the neighborhood that she usually babysat. “Do…do you have a minute?”

“Um, sure,” he said absently, watching as someone brought a ladder out so they could start taking down the streamers and bunting. DJ offered to go up; he wasn’t sure that was a good idea as despite her hoofspace, ladders weren’t exactly designed with ponies in mind and this what he could see from this distance, it was the kind that had round rungs instead of the flat step ones. “What’s up?”

“I…uh, can we go somewhere private to talk about all this?” she asked, noticing everyone in the area and suddenly wondering if confessing her feelings at the party was such a hot idea.

“Um, sure,” he said, worried about DJ. Now that he looked at it a little better, it did have round rungs, and those were a problem even for human feet, much less hers. Well, if someone was there by the ladder to make sure she was safe, he could afford to step out for a second or two.

Impulsively, she grabbed his hand, giddy as she could be; once they rounded the corner and she was able to confess in private, it’d be wonderful. Sure, her mind pictured something out of an anime, but real life in this case probably wasn’t going to be much more different. Besides, there was always a grain of truth in fiction, right?

“DJ! Look out!”

Time froze for Mike as he heard those words. He whipped his head around to find the latter on the ground, broken in two – damn wooden ladders! – with DJ seeming to hang on to the lighting fixtures in the room, something that was obviously not meant to handle the load bearing of anyone hanging on to it.

From that point, everything was instinctual: he ripped himself out of Marcy’s grasp, bolting as fast as he could toward where DJ was barely holding on. “DJ, let go, I’ll catch you!” he shouted the moment he got within reasonable distance. Calculations raced through his head: if he made it to where she was and caught her, from the height and the speed he might just break both his arms, but it was much better than letting her break her head or worse!

At last, he got under her just as her grip gave out and she fell the ten feet from the air to the ground. He caught her somehow and his arms hurt like hell; the force of her fall brought him to his knees and he collapsed, dragged down – and yet he put everything into it that she didn’t hit the ground.

“What were you thinking?” he gasped, wincing from the pain as he held her.

“I know, it was stupid,” she said, followed by an admission he hadn’t expected – or that she hadn’t intended to make. “I just wanted to show you I can do the same things others can.”

“DJ, I don’t care about that!” he said, ignoring the screaming pain in his arms; this wasn’t how he wanted to tell her, but something told him it was now or never. “I care about you. I don’t care what you look like – I don’t see you as whatever you are. All I see is a wonderful girl, one that I want to be with – one that has my heart.”

“What are you trying to say to me?” she whispered, her eyes widening as wide as plates.

“DJ…I love you.”

Instinctively, their lips met, brushed together, then fully connected, sending both into paradise. The room exploded into the full-out scent of dark chocolate, so much so that there was no one who couldn’t smell it now. The two continued kissing until the adults present, confused at two teens of different species making out but realizing that it wouldn’t be a great example, broke them up.

Watching the new lovers from a distance, Carlos and Erica looked at each other, and the two old friends hugged. “Mission accomplished!” Carlos laughed, happy for DJ and her new beau.

Erica smelled the rich scent of dark chocolate in the air; DJ’s hormones had definitely just gone into overdrive. “Good job, girl,” she whispered, watching as the pair dizzily clambering back to their feet.

“So what now?” Mike asked, looking at his girlfriend; it felt so right saying that.

She gave him the sunniest smile in the world; one he knew was meant for him and him only. Holding him close and ignoring the rest of the universe, she wrapped her tail around the two of them as far as it could go – which admittedly, wasn’t much – and then leaned against him, sighing. “It’s a whole new world for us, sweetie,” she breathed, happy as a lark. They looked at each other again, and then this time, mindful of everyone present, kissed more chastely, thrilled to be together as all present saw a new chapter in humanity’s history made.

One girl, watching from afar, didn’t see that in the least. No, instead she was suddenly consumed with a huge hatred. As Marcy Balis watched the guy who was supposed to be her boyfriend making out with the alien, she felt a spike of hate burning within her, mindless rage growing like a tumor within.

At the beginning of the year, DJ had been a friend. And now?

DJ had earned herself a new enemy.

The Stallion and the Girl, Part Four

“When the gales of November came slashing”
-Gordon Lightfoot

“So, what’s she like in bed?”
“Dude! Make her happy, man – if there’s any girl here who really deserves to be, it’s her.”
“So, does she have girl parts or not, man – spill!”
“So, homie, you need to change your name to Tony, man, so you can say, ‘Tony got the pony’!”
“Treat her right, Mike – she’s a total sweetheart and you don’t need to be the one to break her heart.”
“So, since we own a horse farm down in Middletown, I can get you a good deal on a saddle – for when you ride that ponygirl! Gimme five!”

This had been the way things had been for the past couple of days now, with absolutely no hope of it dying down anytime soon. In fact, if anything, it was getting worse. But now, now it was this:

“And I know I can't spend my life here and my heart is truly torn
But tonight, I'll feel alright, I'm gonna fuck that unicorn.”

He sighed; he didn’t know how much more of this crap he was going to take. Wheeling to face the offenders, he shouted, “You do know the difference between a unicorn and an alien, right?” The two guys who were screwing with him just turned up the volume on the tablet and kept playing.

Finally, someone told the other two, “Turn down the music. You’re hurting the poor horsefucker’s feelings.”

Mike stopped on a dime. “You wanna repeat that?”

A huge monolith of a senior stepped forward. “You heard me, Bestiality Boy. You wanna go fuck any girl here, well, that’s your business. But you’re supposed to be a Good Little Christian just like everyone else at this school – and that means no fucking animals, got that?”

Mike, to his credit, stared down the much taller student – Mike was nearly six feet, but this guy was easily 6’5” – crossing his arms as he said, “You have a problem with my girlfriend, you have a problem with me. And I have a news flash for you: talking about sleeping with girls and using profanity is hardly the mark of a Good Little Christian. Now me, I prefer to follow His words. So I’m going to just turn my cheek.” And Mike did so, turning away from him rather dramatically.

And thus wasn’t expecting what came next. The senior swung his fist, connecting with Mike’s face. Mike practically felt the snap of his head as he slammed to the floor from the punch.

“You reap what you sow,” the senior said.

“Yeah, Trainwreck, kick the animalfucker’s ass but good!” Tablet Guy said.

Mike spat a glob of blood out of his mouth, then snarled, “Yeah, and I bet you can’t even remember where that quote came from.”

“It’s from…um…..”

“Try Galatians 6: 7 through 9 – ‘Be not deceived; God is not mocked, for whatsoever a man soweth, so shall he also reap.’” Mike got back to his feet, and then spat, “How about this one, since it’s right up your alley – ‘Father, forgive them for they know not what they do’. That’s from Luke 23:34, by the way, but since you’re going to a Christian High School, you’d obviously know that, right?”

“You stupid fuck!” Trainwreck roared. “I’m going to beat the fuck outta—”

“Nobody,” a female voice hissed, and Trainwreck turned around to see DJ standing there. “You want to tussle with him, Meredith? You can deal with me, instead. Or do I need to remind you of what happened the last time!”

“Meredith?” the guy with the tablet said, laughing. “I thought your name was Alan, Trainwreck!”

“Fuck you!” the large boy snarled, then turned back to Mike. “This ain’t done yet, fucker!” He then stormed out, with the others laughing at him.

“C’mon, sweetie, let’s get out of here,” she said, helping him up and kissing him on the cheek.

“I’m okay,” he said, feeling the tender cheek; it was going to bruise like all hell.

“No, you’re not okay, Mike,” she told him. “You took a hit for me. You really took one. Not that I’m ungrateful, but I really wish you wouldn’t.”

He flashed her a weak grin. “You’re my girl, DJ; I’m going to stand up for you no matter what. So what’s with that guy?”

“Oh, him? That’s Alan ‘Trainwreck’ Muldaur. His first name is actually Meredith and his middle name’s Alan; it’s one of those male names that got feminized back in the 70s and he’s apparently named after his grandfather. Anyway, he’s a senior linebacker on the varsity football team and got a whole bunch of scholarships to universities that care more about sports than academics; I think he’s going to Notre Dame even if he can’t spell it.”

“No, I mean…why’d he back off?”

“Because I kicked his ass when he was a seventh grader and I was just a fourth,” she said with a gleam in her eye. “He was picking on Carlos – Carlos had a lisp when he was younger and he’s not legal, in case you didn’t know – and I’d had enough of it. He challenged me to something; I forget what it was, but when we got there, he started swinging at me. So I beat him up. He doesn’t talk about it and I don’t brag about it, but he knows I’ve never forgotten.”

“He must’ve been weaksauce when he was a kid.”

She shook her head. “No, he’s always been big, beefy and a bully.”

“Then how’d you…?”

She sighed. “I’m much stronger than I look, Mike – much stronger, and in fact I probably would have survived that fall with nothing but a bruised pride, had you not caught me. But I’m glad you did – in both senses,” she said, laughing lovingly. “But now we’re getting that shiner looked at, okay?” She refused to accept his excuses that he could live with it and instead insisted he go get it looked at.

Well, I guess I should get used to a fussing girlfriend, he thought with a smile.

“Okay, Serena, explain to me why your brilliant plan where Mike is now dating the Freak and your brilliant plan for him to date Marcy until I could steal him isn’t fucking working?” Hurricane Valerie was in full swing now and even Brittney was a bit concerned about getting caught in the crossfire.

“Look, I was sure it was going to work! I had Marcy all ready to lay it thick for him! I’ll bet she would have done him on the spot if he wanted it!” she explained. “But I don’t know why he just went for the fuckin’ pony, okay?”

“Um…maybe this is a sign you should go back to Logan?” Brittney interjected. “He’s really waiting for you.”

“Go back with that loser?” Valerie exclaimed. “Why the hell should I do that?”

“Because he’s in love with you?”

Valerie laughed. “Oh, please – he doesn’t care about anything but how he looks. He’s really no different than me.”

Serena looked at Valerie. “Look, I can fix this. Trust me, I’ll get—”

“—some answers as to why he hasn’t approached me yet?” Serena asked Marcy, her eyes on the verge of tears thanks to some well-placed eyedrops.

Marcy shifted uncomfortably; she didn’t want to lie to Serena, but telling the truth would only make things worse. “I…I tried talking to him, but he only had eyes for that bitch DJ.” There was an undercurrent of anger in her words that Marcy couldn’t block off, and she didn’t bother to, as she knew the Valerie Squad’s brains would agree.

“But there has to be something!” Serena commented.

“I’ve…got something I could try…” Marcy said, a germ of an idea forming in her mind. “But you’re going to have to trust me on this.”

“Sure! I’ll try anything at this point!” Serena said, even as she thought, Bingo. Better hope he wears protection.

The Jamaican coffee shop, once again. Mike had noticed a distinct pattern in that when they just wanted to talk, they went to the Village Café coffee shop in the center of the pedestrian mall, but when there were secrets that needed to be quiet, it was off to Isaac’s Caribbean Café, nestled on the corner of Piccadilly and Braddock. Maybe it was because DJ’s parents had gone to the former one longer than she’d been alive and thus knew the owner, or because Isaac, the owner of the this one, had become the teenager’s equivalent of the bartender stereotype, where you could tell him anything and it’d be kept quiet.

Holding her coffee cup in both “hands”, she started, “Okay, so where do I begin…well, I’m afraid I can’t hide this from you, sweetie, but…I’m an alien.”

He chuckled as he held his to his lips. “Really? I never would have guessed.”

“Yeah, I know, huh?” she laughed. “But seriously, that means that means while in most ways I’m like a human, in other ways, I’m not. You already know about some of those ways, but there’s a big one that I wish I didn’t have, one that kinda scares even me, to be honest.”

“What is it?”

“My strength. I’m much stronger than the human average, which is why as just a little kid I was able to beat up someone twice my size, and now that I’m in puberty, it’s much worse. Mom and Dad are concerned that I’m going to lose my temper someday and seriously hurt someone, and I tell them that I won’t. It’s one of the few times since the Supreme Court decision that they treat me as other than human.”

“You don’t seem like someone who would, DJ,” he commented. “You’re always so easygoing, even in the worst of times.”

“Yeah, because I have Carlos and Erica – and now you,” she said, with a blush; no chocolate scent this time as she was getting better at tamping it down. “And I know my parents are warning me because they love me and they can both be hotheads at times, so they’re probably worried I’ll pick that up from them, but I think I picked up Dad’s West Coast easiness instead.”

“But still, I’m sorry, but I somehow can’t believe that you’re stronger than the average person. I mean, no offense, cutie, but you’re nearly a foot shorter than me.”

At this point, Isaac came up to the table and pointed out the window. “Ku ya! I tinks da mon outside, dey nid da help wid da pole, DeeJay. Mebbe dat be d’ way to gi your mon the Pappy show?” DJ looked outside, and noted that several men were having a problem lifting a new landmark sign for the Handley Library; it was being installed and the wrought iron sign easily looked as though it weighed a good ton.

“Yeah, I think I can help then with that,” she said with a grin, getting up from the table.

Mike looked at the five brawny construction workers; if they couldn’t do it…how the hell was DJ? “Um, you don’t have to do this for me, DJ.”

But she shook her head. “I’m doing it for you, sweetie. I need you to see this.” She then threw him the puppy dog eyes, and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to turn those down.

Exiting the café, Mike in tow with that unbreakable grip of hers, she walked cater-corner from the café and onto the library grounds, waving the men over. “Problem with the sign?” They looked at her as though they were imagining things, so she said, “Trust me, I’m real – so what’s the problem?”

“Um…” the relatively quickest-thinking of the group said, “Uh, boss won’t send out a crane to help us lift this sign up, but it’s heavy as all get-out. No way in hell we’re going to get it in there without one.”

She crossed her arms. “Um, how heavy?”

“About 600 pounds, give or take,” another one piped up. “Why, you, uh, gonna lift it?”

DJ paused in thought for a second before saying, “Yeah. Probably going to strain a bit, but I can do it.” Before anyone protested, she went over to the sign and bent down to her haunches, making sure she had a good grip on it. Then, with some visible strain on her face, she slowly but surely got back up to a full stance even as she started angling it towards the hole. The five and Mike went to help, but she looked at them, the strain on her face clear as she rasped, “I’ve got it!” and with a final push, slammed it into the hole as she collapsed, gasping for air.

Mike went to her side and she grabbed him and kissed him passionately before saying, “Okay, I admit it, I overdid it.”

“DJ…you just….” Words escaped him. He had no idea of what to say – what could he say? His girlfriend, a tiny slip of a thing even if she’d been human, had just successfully, even if with some strain, muscled into place six hundred fucking pounds.

The first man, meanwhile, clapped her on the back. “Hey, if you ever need a job, just give me a call!” He handed over a business card. “I’m always looking for good men…er…women…uh….”

“Individuals?” DJ offered.

“Yeah!”

“Well, I’m still just a high school student, but I’ll think about it for the summer, okay?” And with that, Mike and DJ walked back to the café, she leaning on him and he with his arm around her as the five continued to stare in amazement at the now-completed task.

Isaac was waiting with a large frozen toffee mocha. “On de house, DeeJay.”

“Thanks,” she said, sipping away a third of it in an instant. Turning back to Mike, she said, “And there’s my secret. The average horse can lift 550 pounds of strength, or one unit of horsepower, for the technical term. When they tested me at Johns Hopkins a few weeks ago, they found I can lift 570 pounds.” Then her eyes began to fill with tears as she sobbed, “And imagine what I could do to a person with that kind of strength. Even my parents think I’m a monster in that regard!”

Mike instinctively hugged her as she set the drink down on the nearest table and melted into his embrace, crying. “It’s okay, DJ,” he said, holding her. “I don’t think anyone thinks you’re a monster, especially your parents. I’ve met your father, remember? He’s fairly built, and imagine what he can do with his strength; for that matter, I’ve got muscles, and I’m just as dangerous. Any person is; you’re just at, say, the Olympic weightlifter level than as opposed to a regular person.” He ushered her into a chair.

“Y…you really think so?” she said, wiping her eyes with her hooves, the fur around them now getting wet as well.

He leaned forward and kissed her gently. “We are all monsters and we are all saints, DJ. Even with what I just saw you do, could you ever hurt me? Or your parents, or even someone you don’t like, like Valerie?”

“No, of course not.”

“And they know that – and I know that too, which is why you’re not getting rid of me,” he said with a soft smile.

She caressed his cheek, and he could feel the vibration of the hundreds of micromuscles at work. “I love you,” she said, as she leaned forward to kiss him—

—only to have his cellphone go off. “Sorry,” he said and she nodded as she moved back. “Yeah, this is Mike.”

“Michael, this is your mother. Come home immediately,” she said, her voice terse.

Uh-oh. Mike didn’t like the sound of that. “Sure thing, Mom. Something up?”

“Yes. Your father would like to speak to you about your apparently new girlfriend, which you hadn’t told us about.” She hung up and in that moment, he knew he was going to be in for it; his mother was a stickler for etiquette, and for her to just hang up like that indicated that either she was furious or she was desperately trying to calm his father down. Considering she said she wasn’t angry, his father’s concerns had just gone through the roof.

“Something wrong?” DJ noticed the crestfallen look on his face and was worried about him. He loved her for that, even as new as their relationship was, he knew that as long as he’d be with her, it was something that she seemed to be a natural at.

“It’s….” He took a breath, and then explained everything in detail. Seeing her face go from worried to heartbroken within minutes absolutely cut him down to the bone as if he was personally responsible for it. But after explaining, he said, “I don’t care what Dad says, I’m going to fight for us, okay? DJ, you’ve made me feel like no one ever has before, and I won’t give you up.”

“Even if your Dad says so?”

He paused for a second, then said with utter determination, “Yes. Even if Dad makes it an ultimatum, I’m not giving up.”

She leaned forward and kissed him again, but he didn’t know if that was a kiss of love or a farewell kiss – he prayed to God it wasn’t the latter. She then fished out her own phone and said, “I think it’s time to call in the big guns.”

Mike opened the door to his house. “Mom, Dad, I’m home.”

Lila Hengst noticed the bandage on Mike’s cheek immediately. “What happened to you?”

“It was that alien girl,” Carl Hengst said. “She clearly hit him with that monster strength of hers!”

“Dear,” she said firmly, “you’re being ridiculous. Although, Michael, I’m not thrilled that you had to go and hide your relationship with that girl when your father told you to stay clear of her. Now, do you mind telling me what happened?”

“Why should I?” Mike said, going into defensive. “Neither of you know DJ, and all Dad thinks is that she’s some kind of monster! She’s the gentlest girl I know!”

“Don’t you raise your voice to me, young man,” Carl snarled. “I was at the library. She lifted that one-ton sign by herself when no one else could, and you’re telling me something with strength like that is gentle?”

“DJ’s not a thing!” Mike responded. “She’s a girl! So what if she’s not human? She’s a normal girl wanting to live a normal life and what’s wrong with that?”

“I refuse to have my son be used as a guinea pig for whatever she is,” Carl said, his tone slipping out of parent mode and into Chief Petty Officer mode. “You’re not dating that thing and that is fin—” There was a knock at the door, and Carl pointed at his son, saying, “You’re grounded until further notice, you got that?” Carl went to the door—

—and found a teary-eyed DJ standing there, with her father in tow.

Carl looked at Matt, though there was no kindness in his eyes. “Well, well, well. All the assholes in the world that I had to run into, and it’d be you, Martinez.”

“Fuck you too, Hengst,” Matt snarled. “I knew the last name sounded familiar, but I didn’t even think it’d be you.”

“You two know each other?” DJ and Mike said at the same time.

Matt looked down at his daughter, then to Mike and back at DJ. “We briefly served together on the USS Goldsborough back in ’91. I got transferred to the USS Rathburne after that, and I have no idea where he went,” as Matt pointed a finger at Carl.

“West Loch,” Carl replied, “I was due for a shore tour. And as I recall, when we were stationed together we didn’t like each other then, either.”

DJ and Mike had the same thought at the same time: Oh shit.

“So, you want to tell me what the problem you have with my daughter is?”

“You adopted that thing? Man, I knew you were a fucking piece of work, but that takes the Goddamn cake!”

“Excuse me – did you just refer to my daughter as a thing?”

“I’m surprised you refer to her as a daughter instead of a pet.”

Matt’s eyes narrowed in unconcealed rage. “I think you and I better have a talk.”

“Yes,” Carl said, his right eye twitching and a vein rising on his forehead, “Yes, I think we’d better.” He turned to Lila and said, “We’ll be down in the Man Cave. This shouldn’t take long.” Both men strode downstairs, and the door closed and locked. And then the shouting began, loud enough to be heard despite the sound proofing Carl Hengst had been doing to the basement room:

WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR MAJOR FUCKING MALFUNCTION?”

“MY PROBLEM, WTFO ARE YOU EVEN THINKING, PLAYING DADDY TO THAT FUCKING…THING!?”

“SHE’S MY DAUGHTER, NOT A THING, YOU GODDAMN FUCKING ASSHAT, GET IT FUCKING STRAIGHT BEFORE I FUCKING KEELHAUL YOUR ASS, FUCKMUNCH!”

“HEH, AS IF YOU COULD FUCKING DO ANYTHING TO ME, YOU WEAKASS FAG!”

“I DON’T SEE YOU HAVING WORKED OUT, YOU FATFUCK! OR IS THAT JUST BALLAST YOU CARRY AROUND YOUR WAIST FOR MASS FUCKING DISPLACEMENT? TELL ME: DID SOMEONE DESIGNATE YOU AS A REPLACEMENT FOR AN AIRCRAFT CARRIER?”

“I BET YOU CAN’T EVEN SPELL HALF THOSE FUCKING WORDS YOU SAID, YOU FUCKWEIGHT EXCUSE FOR A YEOMAN! MAYBE IF I RIP OFF YOUR HEAD AND SHIT DOWN YOUR NECK, IT’LL CLEAR YOUR MIND!”

“I’M FUCKING SURPRISED YOU CAN EVEN THINK THAT FAR AHEAD, CONSIDERING IT SEEMS YOU ONLY THINK WITH YOUR DICK, YOU LAZY FUCK! THE GUNNER’S MATE COMMUNITY MUST HAVE BEEN DESPERATE WHEN THEY GAVE YOU YOUR RATING BADGE!”

The two teens and Lila flinched. “Oh dear. It seems your father went into Sailor mode,” she told Mike. And knowing her husband, he was just getting started.

“Uh, that would be both our fathers, from the sound of it,” DJ said, a worried look on her face, even as a proud smile crept up on hit. Matt had promised her he would go the limit for her, and he was backing that up. That’s my Dad!

“So, um, DJ, right?” Lila asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” she said, utter politeness.

“Well, this might take a while, so maybe I should order some pizza. Vegetarian okay for you?”

“I can eat meat, ma’am. Sausages, pepperoni, ground and processed meat. Just not outright straight steaks or filets, except for fish.”

“I…see. So, any suggestions? We’re still new here and haven’t really ordered pizza.”

“Sure. 3.14 Pizza – best in town. Number’s 540-667-8088,” she said helpfully as the screaming continued downstairs.

“SO, YOU FUCK A HORSE AND DECIDE TO ADOPT THE FOAL SO YOUR WIFE WOULDN’T KNOW?”

“OH, LIKE THAT’S SO FUCKING ORIGINAL – LIKE I HAVEN’T HEARD THAT A THOUSAND FUCKING TIMES BEFORE! CAN’T COME UP WITH A UNIQUE INSULT, OR IS YOUR BRAIN FILLED WITH TOO MUCH MONKEYCUM TO THINK STRAIGHT YOU LANDLUBBING BASTARD?”

“LANDLUBBING? OKAY, GLOVES COME OFF NOW, YOU PANSY!”

“BRING IT, FUCKWAD!”

“Well, kids,” she decided, “let’s go order it in person then go to the store to get some drinks. It’ll give your fathers time to settle this like…well, I’m going to say Sailors; I’m sure they’re not being gentlemen at the moment.”

“You know, you really shouldn’t be buying something like that at this age,” the sales clerk said. “Hell, if they even know you’re in the store, my ass is toast, got that?”

Marcy grinned, handing the clerk a $50 “tip” in addition to the cost of the items she was purchasing. She’d gotten her cousin, a junior, to drive her all the way up to Inwood, in West Virginia, to visit an adult’s store that wasn’t as picky as to who their clientele was. Rumor had it that if you wanted a little something special and could spare a donation to the “cashier’s special fund,” they’d be happy to oblige.

The man pocketed the fifty, then took the money for the items, and then gave her change. “Thanks for stopping by Little Wonder, Ms. ‘College Student.’ Come again.” She thanked him, smiled then walked out.

As she walked to her cousin’s car, she fished out a box for him. “Here. Here’s the thing that you wanted. We square?”

“You better know what you’re doing, Marcy,” he told her. “You get pregnant, people are going to find out how you got that stuff, and they’re going to put two and two together – meaning they’ll know I drove you up here.”

“Relax, David,” she told him. “We’ve been hiding the fact that you’re gay from your parents for years now and we can hide this. Plus, once I have Mike in my arms, things’ll be perfect.”

“You mean your—”

“Yes, I’m going to ride him like a thoroughbred,” she said, looking in the bag at her purchases. “Is that what you wanted to me to say? Fine, I’ll say it. Now, your boyfriend got everything set?”

“Yup. Jack’s family’s out of town for the month; my ‘best friend’ will sleep over my place that night – and we’re not doing anything, so Mom and Pop won’t figure it out; and Jack says as long as you use the guest room, you can do whatever you want.”

Marcy grinned. “Perfect.” She looked in the bag, pulling out something that her parents would be horrified to see she now owned at her age, but hey, that’s how relationships went – if you played by the rules, you lose out. Mike, soon you’ll be mine.

“Well, well, well,” Erica said, getting Carlos’ attention, “If it isn’t Logan Bradford.”

“Really?” Carlos looked at the door. “Yup. Funny, never seen him here before.”

Sure enough, at the door was Valerie’s ex-boyfriend. He had that young James Dean look going on, and he was the kind of heartthrob that caught any girl’s attention. The fact that he was in Swing’s Ice Cream Parlor, where Carlos had a part-time job was impressive enough, since she’d never seen him in there before, but the fact that he came on a night when Carlos was working and Erica had come just to keep him company in the relatively-empty parlor meant something was up.

“Heya – Carlos Salazar and Erica McAllister, right?” he asked, walking up to the counter. “Oh, and I’ll have a peanut-butter and chocolate malt, please.”

“Yeah, sure,” Carlos said as he went to make it, though he kept an ear out for what was going on.

Erica turned to face him. “Funny seeing you here, Logan.”

“Funny, nothing,” he said. “I came looking for you two.”

“That’s what I figured,” Carlos said, putting a scoop of peanut butter ice cream into the blender container. “So what brings you?”

“Information,” he told them, before chuckling. “Would you believe Valerie thinks I’m getting back together with her? When I told her I wanted a break from the relationship, it was the nice way of saying ‘we’re through.’ But now, I see she’s got her hooks on another guy, and someone in the Valerie Squad is saying that she wants me back with her when that’s just not the case. But that’s not what I’m here for. What I am here for is to warn you guys: the Valerie Squad’s about to drop two big ones on you, and it’s going to hurt you guys bad.”

“Really?” Erica said, giving him a look as Carlos continued to listen even as he added the malt to the milk, chocolate ice cream and peanut butter ice creams.

“Yup. The first part will hurt you, directly, Erica, and I hate to say this, despite the fact that you just got out of the hospital, but you deserve to be told the truth: your boyfriend, Paul? He’s sleeping with a girl from City High named Cheryl Baxter. Reason I know is because I ran into them at the Martinsburg Mall this past Saturday, then I saw you two together yesterday. And then I remembered: Paul’s best buddy is Serena’s older brother Darrien. I suspect she hooked them up just so it could blow up in your face.”

“You’re lying!” she told him.

“I wish.” He pulled out his phone, then brought up a picture of a familiar-looking guy and a very skimpily-dressed girl, making out in front what was clearly the Martinsburg Mall. “For what it’s worth, I think he’s an idiot. You’re much cuter than she is, not that I’m hitting on you or anything.”

The look on her face was one of utter heartbreak, and Carlos caught that from his viewpoint. Firing up the blender, he turned around and said, “And what’s the other thing?”

“This I got from Todd Miles – Marcy Balis is going to make a play for Mike, because supposedly Serena asked Marcy to approach Mike on her behalf. Personally, I know Serena: she’s so far in the closet she doesn’t even admit it to herself, but I know she ain’t after Mike. No, this is meant to hurt DJ just as much as what I had to tell Erica hurt her. I don’t know what the plan is, but Todd thinks it’s going to involve something stupid, and something stupid at our age usually means sex.”

Erica’s eyes were now beginning to tear; there was no way that picture could be denied. “Why are you telling us?”

“Truthfully? I owe DJ. Big time. I would have failed math in Seventh Grade if she hadn’t helped me on multiple occasions, and that’s despite the fact that I was sorta the enemy. She’s a bigger hearted girl than that body of hers shows and I’m wondering if I asked out the wrong girl back then – yeah, I know she’s dating Mike now, but hey, that’s the breaks. In any case, I owe her and this is the least I can do to pay her back…even if it hurt you, Erica. Sorry.”

Carlos poured the malt into a cup, then handed it to Logan. “On the house. Thanks for the info.”

“No prob. Tell DJ if she ever needs an addition to the Alien Club…I’m in,” he said with a smile that he rarely gave anyone – a genuine one. “Be seeing you guys,” he said as he left the store and Carlos to deal with a broken-hearted Erica.

“Dear?” Lila called out. “We’re home.” Lila, Mike and DJ had departed the house about two hours ago, intending only to leave for a few minutes. During that time, Mike had explained where the bruise had come from, and that DJ was actually terrified of her own strength. She’d also talked to the alien herself and found that despite the looks, DJ was just a normal teenage girl was some special things about her; in a certain sense no different than if Mike had dated someone who was blind or in a wheelchair – like them, DJ couldn’t help their circumstances. So with that, Lila Hengst signed off on the okay for Mike to date DJ.

However, as the three entered the house, there was a shout of “Do not rotate or radiate anything on my fucking ship while we’re working on the mast!” The voice was unmistakably Carl’s, drunk as well.

There was, to everyone’s surprise, a second drunken voice, that of Matt’s. “Oh, fuck yeah. Captain Mizzouli, man, what a fuckin’ tightass. Swear, that man had a hard-on to get his star.”

“Yeah,” Carl slurred, “but you heard after the Goldsborough decommed they sent him to command NAS Souda Bay, and he got kicked out of the service there. Turns out he was fuckin’ some little seaman and when she got pregnant the CO of the Naval Hospital found out. Got tossed out by NAVEUR himself.”

“Fucker deserved it,” Matt replied in a slurred voice. “Now, the XO – Commander Swerski – that man knew his shit. He shoulda been the Old Man.”

“Oh, trust me, he got what he deserved: man’s MIDPAC and CNRH now.”

“Two star? Fuckin’ A. Bravo Zulu for him.” It was at this time Matt noticed everyone. “Oh, hey, how the hell are ya! We solved everything.”

Although everyone could smell the alcohol, the smell overwhelmed the humanized alien. “Yeah, Dad, I can tell.”

“Oh, hey, Mike,” Carl said, tipping over, falling on the ground and then laughing. “You can date DJ. But if you get her pregnant – you break it, you bought it.” Carl started drunkenly laughing again as if it were the funniest thing in the world.

“DJ, remember what I said, I want you protected, got it?” Matt said, his head lolling back on the sofa. “Fuck safe, got it, kids?”

DJ turned a shade of red deep enough to be seen through her fur. Dad….

Mike looked equally embarrassed. “Well…at least we can keep seeing each other, right?”

“Yeah,” DJ commented, relieved at least by that much. “Yeah, there’s that,” she said, looking at her completely inebriated father as he started whistling “What Do You Do with a Drunken Sailor”. He was toasted, blitzed, rotated and radiated. By any means a complete public embarrassment if he stepped out of the Hengst home.

DJ was never more proud of her father than at that moment.

The Stallion and the Girl, Part Five

“I love you whether or not you love me”
-Howard Jones

“So you’re absolutely sure it’ll work this time, Serena?”

Serena dusted her fingers off on her shirt. “Let’s just say that Mike will be getting both Thanksgiving late and Christmas early: he’ll get to unwrap his gift and then eat to his heart’s content, if you know what I mean.”

“I still think you should be watching Logan,” Brittney advised. “He’s really got eyes for you!”

Valerie laughed. “Oh, please. He’s a loser! For one, he’s joined the Alien Club, being a part of that ponyharem – sorry, I don’t do sloppy seconds. And even if that weren’t the case, do you know Sarah Brightwell and Jamie Morrisette saw him studying at the Library the other day? Studying! What kind of supposed hunk studies? If I were a guy and had his looks, I’d be flirting up the neighborhood to get every girl to give me the answers to the tests.”

“As opposed to what you do normally, which is terrorize them,” Serena commented haughtily.

“My, aren’t we getting catty,” Valerie snapped.

“Look, I’m just tired of having to deal with your guy problems when I’ve got better things to do.”

“Like what, get a butch haircut and move to San Francisco with all the rest of the lesbians?”

“I’m not a rugsniffer, got that?” Serena snarled. “Now, do you want help with your little Mike problem or not?”

“Yeah, okay,” the blonde said, chastened, and opting to pick up her tablet, bringing up the latest issue of Cosmo. “Just get it done, or you’re gone, got that? I won’t tolerate failure in my group.”

DJ watched as Erica tearfully watched Paul walk past her without so much as saying a word. It had been three weeks now since she found out and he didn’t even have the balls to admit it; they finally got the answer out of him indirectly when Logan went to secretly record the goings-on and Paul admitted it freely, unaware he was being caught on MP3. He gave the copy to Erica, who confronted Paul with it.

“He’s not worth getting broken up over, Erica,” DJ said, embracing her friend.

“Can’t believe that shit,” Logan said to Mike and Carlos. “He’d been dating Cheryl all this time and was only fooling with Erica just to get in her pants and take pictures?”

“Yeah,” Carlos said. “Valerie’s plan was to put Erica under her thumb or else the pictures would end up with whoever was running against her dad in the next election.”

“Okay, so trying to blackmail a senator and his daughter. Playing with explosives much? And this girl wants me?” Mike asked. “What does she think I am, terminally stupid?”

“You really don’t want me to answer that, Mike,” Logan replied. “I mean, I dated this girl for a year before I realized she wasn’t what I wanted, and what kind of girl in the middle of Eighth Grade starts mapping out exactly what future she’d like with you? I mean, when I get my driver’s license next year, she wanted to – and get this – take a scenic drive down the Skyline Ridge, then stay the weekend at the lodge cabin down in Woodstock. A pair of friggin’ 16 year olds, camping up like a married couple, really?”

Erica looked as though she were going to tear her heart out. “Paul said he wanted to do that with me….”

The three guys’ eyes went wide. “Oh, shit – I’m sorry I said that, Erica!”

“It’s not your fault, dude,” DJ assured him. “She was getting played hard and you spared her the pain and humiliation. We owe you for that.” Then she turned her head and saw Marcy walking towards them. “And speaking of playing hard….”

Marcy was wearing a one-piece dress, buttoned in the front. It looked like something an adult would wear to a business meeting. As she approached, she asked, “Mike, do you mind if we talk for a second?”

“Um, sure,” he said. While he’d been prepared for this talk, as Logan had told them for weeks what was going on.

Logan looked at his phone. “Well, that’s my cue to skedaddle; I have Spanish class next period and Mrs. Wilkins wants all of us to meet by the front of the school.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah – gonna head off to the local tortilleria to see how they make tortillas and such. Should be interesting. Catch you guys later.” With that, he walked out.

“So, what’s up, Marcy?” DJ asked.

“None of your business, DJ,” she said with a smile on her face and unbridled venom in her voice; while she thought she was hiding it, it was blatantly obvious to anyone with half a brain and an ear. Turning to Mike, she asked, “Can we talk in private?”

“Um, sure,” he said before she grabbed him by the hand and dragged him off, ignoring DJ’s stares. The two headed off towards the part of the school that was being rebuilt, and so no student was allowed in there; thus a lot of students often went in to do things that weren’t exactly allowed by staff. Somehow the faculty remained oblivious about this and so the antics continued.

“Tell you what, let’s stop in here,” he said, pointing to a particular room. “That should give us some privacy.”

The moment they went in, Marcy attacked him savagely with her lips, kissing him with the passion of the desperate. To her surprise, Mike joined in the kiss, just the way she knew he would. As she pushed him back against the wall, she unbuttoned her dress, and let it open in front of him. “Like what you see?” she said, kissing him again, taking his hand and placing it to her in a very interesting location.

“Now,” she said, whispering in his ear, “I’d love to let you have this now, but I want it to be special.” She produced a small card, scented with perfume and writing on it. “Be there tonight, and you can have all of this and more. I’ll show you what your little horsey girl can’t.” Nipping him sensually on the ear, she then moved away, buttoned her dress and then walked out, proud as a peacock and smiling victoriously.

She had him, and she wasn’t going to let go.

DJ, Serena, he’s mine, he’s mine and I won’t let you anywhere near him!

“DJ, look, I’m sorry,” Mike said.

She looked at him with love. “Mike, for the thousandth time already, I forgive you, not that there’s anything to be forgiven as far as I’m concerned. We all saw what you did – or didn’t do, actually – and you’re innocent, okay? I know what I saw – you didn’t kiss her and she took her hand and put it there; if you’d flinched, it might have signaled something was off.”

“Speaking of seeing, oooooooooh yeah, so did I!” Carlos said gleefully. “Dude, you had it in the hand and you didn’t give a little—”

“CARLOS!” Erica snarled, smacking him on the back of the head. “Think with your upper head!” Turning back to Logan, she said, “But good idea to catch her in the act. I just wasn’t…well, you know, expecting to catch anything else on vid.”

The four had met afterschool at Logan’s house, since he lived the closest to school. Once they knew what Marcy was up to, they set up the cameras in the particular room Mike had led her to. They had expected her to kiss him and proposition him. They hadn’t expected Marcy to go as far as she did.

“But…man, she’s got a body for being a ‘Plain Jane’,” Carlos moaned.

“Carlos, would you like to insult me any further?” DJ said, somewhat irritated about it. Mike kissed her on the ear in response and she giggled. “Well, truthfully, for the most part I’m glad I don’t have to deal with that kind of stuff. I’m going to have an, ahem, ‘athletic’ build for the rest of my life and I just have to adjust.”

“Actually, if you want to know, I’m kind of worried – where’d she get that kind of outfit? That’s some pretty hookerific stuff – like she went shopping in the ultra-slutty section of Frederick’s of Hollywood,” Logan said. “Mike, seriously, this kind of stuff, as far as I can see, is a signal that she’s not going to stop until we embarrass her utterly or she gets what she wants.”

“Not gonna happen,” Mike told him. “Even if I wasn’t with DJ,” he said, putting an arm around her, “I’m a big believer in abstinence until marriage. Call me old-fashioned, but that’s what I’m sticking to.”

“So what’re we going to do about her?” Carlos said, now serious. “All joking aside, you can’t ask me or Logan to be your stunt double, Mike.”

“Well, first thing is that you’re going to have to erase that video file. That kind of thing’s gonna get someone in trouble – the legal kind,” DJ pointed out. “Secondly, someone’s going to have to confront her.”

“I’ll do it,” Mike said. “She’s expecting me, and I need to be the one to do this.”

“No!” DJ said.

“DJ, please. You love me and trust me, right? I won’t leave you. She could offer me everything and anything and it would never amount to a second of being with you.” He kissed her, holding her close. “You have me for the long run, babe.”

“So, we should start planning the wedding then, huh?” Carlos joked, and everyone stared him into silence.

“So…then what’s the plan?” Logan said, erasing the file, then typing some extra commands into the computer to reformat the drive.

Mike grinned. “It’ll go like this….”

In the house, Marcy grinned, doublechecking her corset; the jade green brought out her eyes and accented the parts of the corset that weren’t there. All the assorted “entertainment” was upstairs in the guest bedroom, and everything would go perfect tonight. She had everything set, the perfect way to keep Mike and keep him away from those harpies DJ and Serena: she’d given him a little taste of what was going on tonight and then this evening would seal the deal. Then in nine months, she’d have him and their child, and things would be great.

Sure, there would probably be some complications: they’d probably have to attend school at City High, since a parochial school frowned on pregnant teens or teenage fathers; his parents would probably be mad at him and, truth be told, so would her aunt and uncle – especially her aunt and uncle, since she’d “be repeating the same mistake” her mother did when Marcy was born.

But Marcy knew this wasn’t a mistake: she didn’t know the kind of man her father was, but with the baby she’d have with Mike, she’d know exactly who the father and her husband would be. They’d have a perfect life together, just like the one she was supposed to have. He might be surprised to be a father at first, but knowing him, he’d take responsibility and from that point they’d be a happy couple, with baby to come eventually.

There was a knock at the door and she knew time was ready. Turning off all the lights in the house, she removed the last bits of garments needed, then walked towards the door, opening it. The streetlights gave him an angelic, loving halo. “You came,” she cooed, stepping forward and kissing him. “You came for me, and me alone, and I’ll make you happy forever, Mike.” She took him by the hand, pulling him forward, slipping off his coat while kissing his neck. “So shy, huh? Or letting me do everything. Well, tonight is yours, cutie. Tonight, I’ll be whatever your heart desi—”

Clik

She heard that sound and her heart froze. She looked up at the man she was passionately kissing, her Mike…it wasn’t Mike.

“Marcy, you’re cute, but I won’t have you throw yourself at me,” Logan said, picking his coat off the ground. “Mike, all yours.”

Marcy looked at those who were coming into the house: Erica, who’d turned on the light; Mike, Carlos…and DJ. It didn’t dawn on her that the way she was dressed left quite literally nothing to the imagination. It did, however, the moment Mike took Logan’s coat and covered up Marcy with it, saying, “Don’t do this to yourself, Marcy. You’re better than that.”

“Mike,” she whispered, “Please, take me. There’s still time! Please, make a baby with me!”

Mike looked as though he’d been slapped. “A what?”

“A BABY?” the others shouted. DJ strode forward to claim her boyfriend, only to find Marcy slugging her straight in the face.

“Stay away from him, you bitch! He’s mine!” Marcy said, stepping between Mike and DJ as if she were protecting him.

“Marcy, what’s gotten into you?” DJ said, feeling her nose fill with blood; of all the places Marcy hit and it was a lucky blow. “I thought we were friends!”

“I HATE YOU!” Marcy screamed. “You’ve taken everything from me! The top grades, my friends and now the guy that I saw first! You’re a thief and an abomination and I. HATE. YOU!” She turned to look at Mike, desperate. “Mike, please, stay with me! I’ll be a good wife and mother! I’ll be anything you want me to be but stay with me!”

Mike shook his head, not sure about what she was saying, but knowing he had to say something. “Marcy, I’m with DJ. And I…I don’t love you. I don’t know where you got that idea. I’m sorry, but I don’t.”

“YOU TOLD HIM TO SAY THAT!” Marcy launched herself at DJ, punching the humanized alien repeatedly in the face while DJ just lay there and took it, only turning her head to prevent her eyes being hit. “YOU TOOK HIM FROM ME!” She kept swinging even as Carlos pulled her off DJ, sobbing.

Mike picked DJ up off the ground. “You okay?”

“No,” she said, sadly, looking at the broken wreck Marcy had turned into. “No, I’m not.”

Carlos held the girl as she cried uncontrollably, the wail of someone who had just lost everything, her final shreds of sanity now abandoned to the wilds of psychosis. When the sobbing was done, she murmured silently, “I’ll be a good mommy, Mike. I’ll be a good mommy for our baby….”

“What the hell is going on here?” Erica asked. “This isn’t just some sort of ‘Get Back at DJ’ moment. We just watched her mind snap.”

At that moment, David and Jack raced into the house. “God, I shouldn’t have let her do this,” David said.

Mike walked by Jack as David bent down to pick up his destroyed cousin. “What the hell’s going on?” he asked.

“Marcy stopped taking her medicine a few months ago; doctor said it was okay and that she was stabilized. But I think the problem is that she stabilized by thinking there was someone to stabilize on, namely you,” Jack commented.

“Jack, take her up to the guest room and let her sleep – and throw away all that shit she bought,” David asked. Jack complied and David faced Mike. “Look, I’m sorry about this, but whatever’s going on, I want some answers. My cousin’s like a little sister to me, since Mom and Pop have been raising her since Aunt Sandra abandoned her.”

“If you want to know, someone used your cousin to get back at her,” Mike said, motioning to DJ.

“DJ, should’ve known it was you,” David said. “Look, I know you tried to be friends with Marcy, but what you don’t know is that she’s hated you since Sixth Grade. Don’t ask me why; doctors think it was part of her psychotic episode.”

“Psychotic episode?” Mike asked, his temper rising. The Valerie Squad had just destroyed this poor girl for no other reason than to get at DJ, and that was something he wouldn’t stand for. He looked out of the corner of his eye and saw an equally serious look on DJ’s face.

“Look, you promise to keep this under wraps?” David said, before he added, “Well, yeah, I know you can, DJ. You’ve been putting up with shit your whole life. So maybe you’ll understand what I’m about to say when I mention that Marcy’s life is worse.” He then told them everything and by the time he was done, the five members of the so-called Alien Club were aghast. “That kind of shit makes being gay and hiding it from my parents a walk in the park by comparison,” he said.

“Oh God, poor Marcy,” Erica gasped, turning to cry in Carlos’ shoulder. A second ago, Marcy had been a pawn in a game no one but Valerie wanted to play. Now? She was possibly even more a victim of fate than DJ.

“DJ,” Mike began.

“No,” she said, tense. “I’m going to end this.”

Valerie felt the teeth in her mouth rattle as she was slammed against the wall in one of the empty rooms in the part of the school that was being rebuilt. “DJ, you’re just a little bitch. What can you do to me other than slam me against the wall? I’m the Queen Bee here; I rule supreme!”

“You want to understand power, Valerie?” DJ hissed. “Allow me to show you!” With that, DJ punched the wall – and then punched through it. She grabbed a section of the wall on the outside, then pulled, yanking a bigger portion of the wall apart; it crumbling as though it had been hit by sledgehammers.

“W...what?” Valerie gasped, not believing the little alien had just ripped apart the wall in seconds.

“I’ve hidden my strength for all these years,” she snarled. “I was willing to put up with your bullying for years. But you and your fucking pet dog Serena fucked up Marcy, and that I won’t stand for! I won’t let you bully anyone else, ever again, got that?” There was a look of rage in DJ’s eyes, a murderous glance. “And I’m going to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“What’re you going to do, kill me?”

DJ shook her head, an unreadable look in her eyes. “Oh, no – that’s not what I have in mind for you at all. You see, when I went to John Hopkins, the studies showed I was growing into my true nature. And you know what that is?” DJ at that point very much invaded Valerie’s personal space.

“N-no,” Valerie said, DJ’s face very close to hers, feeling the breath of the thing on her lips.

“There was a novel that came out when my dad was young called The Third Ones,” DJ said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It talked about a race of aliens who had three sexes: male, female and interpreter. The interpreter had an organ that worked with both male and female and was meant to allow the species to reproduce. Well, guess what? Air Force documents were just revealed that showed my species is very similar, and I can mate with men and women to breed the eggs my species needs to survive.”

“E-eggs? You’re going to feed me to your babies?”

“Oh, no,” DJ said in a sultry voice. “You see, I’ve had my eye on you for years, the only female who is a match for me. So there will come a day – probably soon – when I’m ready to have my first spawn. And I’ll mate with Mike so I can collect the first part of that, and then you…and…I….” She sighed lovingly. “Once you and I mate, you’ll be a future mother to thousands of my kind. Yes, they won’t be purebred and will have some human genes, but I’m willing to accept that for the future of my species. So, whenever you’re ready, let me know and then you me and Mike?” DJ whispered in Valerie’s ear, “I can’t wait to see you lay your first clutch of eggs! I hear it’s very sexy.”

Valerie’s mind reached overload at that point and she slumped on the floor, completely in shock. She felt something wet soak her skirt, but her mind was elsewhere at the moment, terrified of being the mother of a species of freaks like DJ.

“Well, I’ll leave you to think about it, Valerie,” DJ said. “Just remember: when the time comes? I’m really turned on by blacklights.” With that, she walked out of the room, leaving the “queen bee” in her growing yellow puddle of embarrassment.

Once outside, DJ took off the mic, handing it back to Logan. “Thanks!”

Mike hugged his girlfriend. “DJ, as much as I love you, I’m not into threesomes.”

She laughed uncontrollably for several minutes, as the rest joined her. “How the hell can she mix up mammals and egg layers?” She then reached over to Mike to kiss him, adding, “I’m a one-man woman, Mike. Trust me: you’re more than all I need.”

Leaning against the wall, Carlos and Erica couldn’t stop laughing. “Where the hell did you get that idea?” Carlos finally asked, once he was able to regain some air.

She shook her head. “It’s actually from a novel that a colleague of Dad’s wrote. Mr. Crenshaw asked me to read it ‘for a non-human perspective’ and honestly? It’s the most whacked-out piece of shit I’ve ever read. Plus, I grew up human, so I have nothing other than a human perspective!”

“And that’s why she underestimated you, DJ.” The group turned around and looked at Brittney. The “dumb girl” of the Valerie Squad now had a very perceptive and shrewd look on her face. “And that’s why she’ll always be nothing more than a queen bee in junior high who doesn’t realize she’s not even worthy to be a drone in high school. And as for me, I can finally stop playing dumb and be myself.”

“So you’ve been faking it all this time,” DJ said.

“Not proud of it, but I wasn’t as mature back then as I am now,” Brittney nodded. “Plus, I’m not taking acting classes so I can have a glamorous career as a porn star. Someday you’ll see me on Broadway. Which is more than Valerie will ever amount to. Oh, and Logan, good job doing what you were doing even while I was telling her otherwise.”

“Wait – you were the one telling her that I wanted to get back with her?”

Brittney shook her head. “No, I was the one telling her exactly what you were up to while wording it to seem on the surface as if you wanted her back. But if she actually thought about it for a second or had Serena do her thinking for her as usual, she would have figured it out. Anyway.” She offered a hand to DJ. “I think it’s time I got myself some new friends. You don’t harm me and I don’t harm you, we cool?”

DJ accepted. “Perfect. So…what about Valerie?”

Brittney shrugged. “She can walk out of there on her own, pissed skirt and all, for all I care. Not my job to fight her battles for her anymore; she’s supposedly a grown woman.”

Mike was at DJ’s house, helping her family set up the Christmas ornaments when David came over. “I just thought I’d come to say goodbye to you guys and to thank you for all the help you’ve offered,” he said, his breath crystalizing in the late fall air. “Really, nobody in my family is Google-fu qualified, so we never would have known about it.”

DJ looked sad. “Will Marcy be alright?” It had been DJ that had found the facility in question, a mental health facility in Wisconsin that specialized in working with mental patients of a particular stripe. “Is she with you? Can I see her?”

“That’s not a good idea, DJ – I know you mean well, but when Pop was talking about a deejay the other day – the radio kind – Marcy went batshit, picked up a knife and tried to stab herself before you ‘stole her soul’ quote unquote.” David shook his head. “I’d be lying to you if I said she was okay after that. Right now she’s in a catatonic state, claiming that Mike’s her husband now. This morning when I went to check on her, she kissed me and said she was ready for our second child.” David wiped a tear from his eye, whispering, “I hate seeing her like this. She’s like my little sister, and I hate seeing her like this.”

DJ went and offered a hug. “If you ever need anything, give us a call.”

Mike offered a handshake as well. “You heard the lady. Give us a call and we’ll do what we can.”

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll be seeing you.” Nothing more to say, he went back to his car, and DJ shut the door.

“Mike?” she asked, worriedly. “If we weren’t together, would you have?”

“Slept with her?” He shook his head. “I meant what I said when I said I’m waiting for marriage. Maybe I would have dated her; maybe I would have even tried to help her when she had her meltdown. But there’s nothing I can do to help her with what she’s going through. She’s got scars that aren’t my destiny to fix – she needs someone else for that.”

DJ nodded; Mike took her in his arms and they just stood there, holding each other for a very long time, not saying a thing but drinking in each other’s presence.

Finally, she broke the silence. “So, waiting until marriage?”

“Yes, that’s the plan.”

She pouted. “But what if we…?”

“DJ, I consider it a commitment. Anyone I’m going to sleep with I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. We’ve only been together for a couple of months, and I’m not changing my mind, not even for you, DJ. Sorry.”

“Oh.”

“But,” he said thoughtfully, “Maybe a long-time girlfriend might change my mind.”

“Long-time as in, years?”

“Yes, years. That is, if you could wait that long,” he said, kissing her on the crown of her head.

She snuggled up to him. “So, what, is this a marriage proposal or something? I think we’re a little too young for that.”

“What made you think I was proposing?”

“You weren’t?” she said, downcast.

“Well…we’ve got years ahead of us. Maybe we will, maybe we won’t. No one can see that far ahead, DJ.”

“No kidding,” she laughed, kissing him. “You’d have to be insane to marry me.”

It was now March, and their fight to keep their relationship going had been a success. By now, most people had accepted DJ and Mike’s relationship or had wisely shut up now that public opinion had turned against them. The Valerie Squad, in particular, was now accepting new recruits, as Brittney started hanging out with the kids in the Drama Club instead and Serena had enough of Valerie and started hanging out with her cousin and some other friends. Valerie now had some new buddies, a Chinese girl named Madison and another blonde named Michelle, but both of them were clearly second-stringers and wouldn’t have been “promoted” to Valerie’s new bestest buddies had the other two originally remained.

Mike grinned, laying on his girlfriend’s bed, laughing with the rest of them, save for Logan, who had caught a bad case of the flu and couldn’t come over to celebrate DJ’s 15th Birthday with them. He’d apologized and gotten her a gift, so all was forgiven there.

“DJ, PM Dawn? Really? PM Dawn? PM Dawn is elevator music, even back when our parents were our age!” Erica teased. “PM Dawn is for people who drink Metamucil to be regular!”

“Hey, I like PM Dawn, okay?” the humanized alien snarled half-angry; DJ was long used to none of her friends having any interest in the same music she did. “Besides, I thought you guys wanted to talk about the quinceañera.”

“Yeah, what is that, anyway?”

“Something that all Hispanic girls turning fifteen go through – yeah, I know Hispanic hardly applies to me, but Abuelita says that with a last name like Martinez I don’t have an excuse not to have one. So anyway, I dress up in this big frumpy dress like I’m some kind of throwback to days of Spanish California and there’s mariachi music and a whole bunch of other stuff. She’s supposed to be here Saturday to go over everything.”

“I hope no one’s expecting me to dress in a Spanish matador outfit,” Mike said. “I love you, DJ, but that’s just a bit on the weird side.”

“No, no one’s expecting that.”

There was a knock on the door, and Anna poked her head in. “Okay, kiddos, 10pm. Time to wrap things up. Besides, the guys’ll want to get home soon before the rain starts again.”

“How’s the weather looking outside?” Mike asked.

“I’ll drive you and Carlos home,” Matt offered. “Kinda foggy out there; nasty weather to be out there in.”

“Well, as for us, we’ll have to stay here and still work on plans,” DJ said, “but we’ll see you tomorrow at school, okay?”

Mike grinned. “Always, sweetie, always.” The teens walked out of the house, followed by Sam, who was still up and Matt, who had the keys. Clicking the car active, he said, “Okay, boy-types and girl-types only get one last chance to kiss each other goodbye for the night.”

“Dad!” DJ pouted before turning to look at Mike. “Thank you,” she said to him, as she leaned against the railing by the steps to her house.

“For what?”

“For being the best gift a girl could ever have: the best guy there is,” she said with a winsome smile. She got on her tiptoes to kiss him once more—

—and two black arms suddenly snaked around her, pulling her towards the sky as she heard a voice rasp out, “Contact Dash – we’ve got the Lost Foal.”

DJ screamed.

The Stallion and the Girl, Finale

“Duniya yaara rang-birangi' naal”
-Daler Mehndi

“DJ, you’re spacing out again.” Dr. Erica McAllister, M.D., Eq.D., looked at her lifelong best friend. “If you’re not feeling well, we can do this later.”

“Yeah, sorry, just…thinking about the past. Never thought this day would ever come,” she said, raising her arm and seeing her “engagement ring.” “Ten years together, and Mike and I are finally getting married.” She squealed in happiness, but then it faded away as she said, “It almost never came.”

“DJ, it’s been ten years now! Princess Celestia sent you back here because she knew this is where you belonged, girl – amongst your people! For crying out loud, girl, you’re finally getting married!”

“Yeah, even if Lyra beat me to it,” she said petulantly.

“She’s going to kill you for saying that,” Erica pointed out. “Besides, your love life has been better than mine as of late. You try being one of the world’s few equiniatric doctors and having the time to date.”

The two women were in the forward room of the Delectable Moments Catering Company in Alexandria, located in the old Torpedo Factory, planning for DJ’s wedding; Erica, as maid of honor, had come along to help start the process. He had just proposed to the humanized pony three weeks ago, but unfortunately his leave was over and DJ tearfully saw him head back to Bahrain, though he’d promised her that when he returned they would be together for good. In the meanwhile, he’d left DJ with planning the whole of the wedding, though everyone she knew offered to help; considering Mike’s problems everything within the Fifth Fleet area of operations, DJ was wondering who had the worse of the two issues.

“So Lyra recommended this place,” DJ commented. “She knows enough chefs, bakers, etc. – Lord knows Pinkie or AJ would have done it in a heartbeat – but she wanted them to just enjoy the wedding. But she said this was the place.”

“Good afternoon and welcome to Del…DJ? DJ Martinez? Is that you?” Both DJ and Erica looked up to see a stately young blonde standing there, looking as professional as can be.

“Valerie Anderson?”

“Well, Valerie Dawson, now – got married about five years ago, in college,” she said, rushing over to hug the other two. “So, who’s the lucky woman?”

Woman? Both DJ and Erica looked at each other – like the hug, Valerie being nice to DJ.

She picked up on that instantly. “Yes, woman. That’s always what you wanted to be, DJ; it was never what I called you when I should have recognized your personhood.” The blonde fell silent for a minute before adding, “Look…DJ…if you want to turn around and leave, I can’t stop you. I was absolutely horrible to you during our high school years and I’ve never had the chance to apologize to you. You humiliated me that one day with your ‘alien queen’ bit and caused my friends to leave me—”

“They’d already left you by that point,” Erica said. “They just hadn’t admitted it. Brittney, especially.”

“Yes, she showed me how stupid I was for thinking she was an idiot, especially when she started hanging with the Drama Class folks,” Valerie chuckled bitterly. “Then you went through that hell regarding finding out who you really were, nearly getting raped by your own kind and nearly losing everything you had. But all I could think about back then is how much you deserved all that – God, was I ever such a petty bitch. How did you put up with me?”

“Truthfully? After the hell I went through, you were just a breeze in the hurricane,” DJ answered.

“I…see. Well, I’m asking your forgiveness now, DJ. I’m sorry I did all those things to you, and I didn’t even realize it until I had my ass handed back to me in college. Not going into that, but it taught me just a little bit about humility just a little lot too late.” Unexpectedly, Valerie got on her hands and knees. “Don’t laugh – I always swore if I ever saw you again, I’d do this to prove I’m serious.”

“Don’t, please.” DJ was feeling a little self-conscious about Valerie’s prostration, while Erica just laughed. When Valerie refused to get up, DJ got down to her haunches and said, “If you don’t, we’re going to talk about that egg thing.”

Valerie laughed. “I can’t believe I was stupid enough to fall for that.”

“Well, no one knew about ponies at the time, so…” DJ shrugged, then helped Valerie to her feet.

“Yeah. After all that time, all the insults about being called a pony…only to find out your species is called ‘pony’. You okay with that?”

“No, but then again, I don’t really care. As far as I’m concerned, I’m a human. I’m just pony-shaped,” DJ said. She then added, “And for what it’s worth, I forgave you a long time ago, Valerie. I have enough problems in my life without holding on to the petty ones.”

“Thank you,” the blonde said, brushing some hair out of her face. “So, then, let’s get back to business, if that’s okay with you.”

“About time,” Erica said as the trio took seats by the table.

“So who’s the lucky one?”

“Me,” DJ said. “You already know the guy – it’s Mike.”

Valerie’s mind nearly short-circuited at that mention. “You’re still with Mike? But it’s been over a decade!”

“Yeah, they know how to bring the drama,” Erica laughed, patting DJ on the back. “But you know our girl here: never does anything the easy way.”

“So, why so long?”

“Both college and then afterwards him being stationed overseas in a very unfriendly place,” DJ said glibly, “But he gets stationed in San Diego next year and we’re getting married just before he goes there.”

“Stationed? He joined the military?” Valerie asked as she brought out the menu lists.

DJ and Erica began to pour over them. “Yeah. Erica’s dad recommended him for the Naval Academy and Mike became a naval officer. He’s currently a lieutenant junior grade for Fifth Fleet in the Middle East.” She then mused, “This seems interesting.”

“I’ll go bring some. We’re always cooking small batches of things to try. Would you care for something to drink?”
“Sure.”

While Valerie went to go get some of the hors d'oeuvres and drinks, Erica whispered, “DJ, are you sure about this?”

The humanized pony nodded. “Yes. Lyra recommended the place, and she wouldn’t steer me wrong. Though I’m sure she didn’t know the backstory between me and Valerie.”

“I figured that. But can you deal with her?”

“I dealt with Rarity and Silversteel and their bigotry for my parents; I dealt with Rainbow Dash and Scootaloo trying to make my life miserable every chance they could while I was in Equestria. I can certainly deal with this.”

A couple of seconds later, Valerie came back with a tray of sparkling cider with glasses and some selections from the menu DJ picked. “The cider’s from an orchard in Equestria, designed to mimic champagne as much as possible – and it’s non-alcoholic, so no worries.” The two ladies nibbled on some of the brie spread while Valerie poured the cider. “It’s just strange seeing you here of all people, especially considering who came in last week. We’re doing the catering for Brittney’s wedding.”

“Really? She’s getting married? Wow. Tell her I said hi next time you see her.”

“Will do; she’s performing with the National Shakespearean Theatre at Wolf Trap this weekend. I can probably get you tickets, if you’re interested. I’m sure she’d love to see you two.”

“Sure,” DJ commented.

“That makes me wonder. What happened to everyone else? Haven’t heard from anyone in years – well, except for Trainwreck; every time the Seahawks play on TV he’s there arguing with a ref. I swear he does it just to keep his rep up in the world of football.”

“Well,” Erica started, “I’m a doctor now, working at the Equiniatric Medicine division at Johns Hopkins. Carlos just passed the bar and is an immigration attorney working for my dad.”

“As for me, well, I started work on my second novel. First one sold okay, nothing gangbusters – I’m hoping that The Frozen Atlas will sell better than its predecessor.”

“You’re an author? Wow – and I thought becoming a party planner was the tops, not that this is a race or anything. What about the others? Logan? Marcy?”

“Well, Logan’s a disk jockey in Los Angeles now. He and I both went to college at different universities there; unfortunately we didn’t have as much time to spend together as we’d have liked but he’s still a good friend. I listen to his show every now and then, since he broadcasts it on the web. Very eclectic mix of world music.”

“World music? Never would have expected that from him,” she admitted, before adding, “but…I guess I really didn’t know him as well as I thought I did. After all, I was interested in having the hottest guy in school on my arm, not about how he actually felt.” She had a bemused look on her face before continuing. “What about Marcy?”

DJ sighed. “We’ve kept in touch. She was hurting for about two years, going to a special high school for teens with serious mental issues. She’s okay now, though she’ll be on drugs for the rest of her life. I have to wonder if any of you knew about her particular past?”

“Well, I knew she came from a home so broken that she was living with her aunt and uncle….”

“Worse than that, and I want you to keep this under your hat.” DJ looked to Erica, who gave her a “your call” look before trying another bite of the duck pâté.

“I wouldn’t have anyone who would understand,” Valerie said, “though certainly I wouldn’t say a thing now.”

“Marcy…she was born with a chemical imbalance in the brain because of who her parents were. Her parents…they were…brother and sister; the brother, Marcy’s father, ran off when he found out and Marcy’s mother abandoned her shortly after birth; according to Marcy’s cousin David no one in their family has ever heard from them again. Marcy’s aunt, who was Marcy’s parents’ older sister, took the baby in, but medical tests showed that she had that imbalance. They’d had her on medicine until high school, when they thought that she’d be fine, but…Mike unintentionally triggered a relapse.”

“How so?” Valerie suddenly felt a thousand times small for what she’d done to the girl; worse, she knew that the person she’d been wouldn’t have cared and probably would have made things worse.

“Marcy sent me and Mike a picture. Turns out that Mike looks very similar to her father and something inside her just lost it. As for how’s she’s doing now, she’s a counselor for RAINN, trying to help others who are in the same situation she is. She lives in South Dakota with her husband and two kids – adopted, since her genes are too messed up to have kids naturally, she said – though she travels around the country a lot when her job requires it.” DJ’s eyes narrowed. “Forgive me for saying this, but for what Serena did to her? I don’t think I could ever forgive it.”

Valerie was silent for the longest time. Finally, she said, “You won’t have to. Serena’s dead.”

The other two women were surprised by that. “What happened?”

“Remember that everyone joked that she was so far in the closet she refused to admit there was a closet? Well, fast forward to the first year of college. She and I had made up by that time and went to a party over in Roslyn. Anyway, she got drunk – very drunk. When all of us found her, she was in bed with two other girls going at it like they were trying to repopulate the entire human race. She was not only tossed out of the closet, she was publicly humiliated: pictures taken as the three of them continued, and I was too drunk to try to stop any of it.”

A sad look came onto Valerie’s eyes as she continued. “When she sobered up, she was devastated. All those years she swore she wasn’t a lesbian only to find out in the hardest way possible. Both of the other two girls didn’t know and actually tried to fight over which one was going to be her lover, but it only made things worse for her, since she was horrified to find out that she was attracted to them both. But she didn’t want any of that, didn’t want to admit the truth to herself and so she took the easy way out.”

Neither DJ nor Erica said a thing, though the looks on their faces said they wanted to know.

“She just jumped off an overpass onto Interstate 66 one day in the middle of full traffic – the bridge by Merrifield Station. Her suicide note was hysterical, swore that she wasn’t a lesbian and that she made a drunken mistake. But we all knew…and we didn’t say a thing. And that, more than making your life miserable, DJ, will be the cross that I will bear for the rest of my life: that I couldn’t help her when she needed it.”

DJ went to say something, but instead, shut up. Suddenly planning the catering for her wedding just got less important.

“I’m sorry,” Valerie sobbed, burying her head in her hands. “Seeing you again just brought everything into the open, every stupid little pathetic thing that I was, everything I’ve lost and everything I’ve become a failure at.” The party planner broke down into tears.

DJ got up, then went over and hugged her. “Valerie, I’m speaking to you – not the person you were,” she said, taking the blonde’s face in her “hands”. “We are all a part of our experiences, so I was told, and they make us who they are. My aunt, Twilight Sparkle – one of my pony relatives – said that without experiences, we are nothing and without friendship, we are even less than that.”

“So, what, you’re offering your friendship?”

“Well, as she’s told me more than once, ‘Friendship is Magic.’”

Valerie gave DJ a wan smile, then the two embraced, letting out the tension of a lifetime, remaining that way for several minutes. When it seemed to have passed, Valerie smiled and said, “Well, before I forget, we have your wedding to plan, don’t we?”

“Yes,” DJ answered, “and those are the words I’ve wanted to hear for the longest time.” The trio then sat down and started looking over the details in full as DJ started to prepare for the next chapter of her life.

Memories

In her old home in Ponyville, Rarity, Duchess Lipizzan, Minister of the Arts and Sciences and Knight Elemental of Generosity seemed to positively flicker with nervous energy. She’d been that way since she’d woken up this morning. “How do I look, dear?” she asked her beloved husband Silversteel.

He chuckled; though he was no less nervous, he at least had the ability to hide it a little better. “Dear, you look positively radiant,” he told her, looking at her with the same eyes of love that he’d first done when he was just a guard who had worked up the nerve to talk to the “unspeakably beautiful” Knight Elemental. His dark gray form leaned into her smaller one, as he kissed her gently. “Just relax.”

“I know, but….” She paused for breath; she’d long grown out of the theatrics of her youth, but today she was positively bouncing with nervous excitement. “Today our Sandalwood comes back to us,” she said with all the love of a mother having not seen her foal in ages. Twilight had sent her a note yesterday evening that she had returned to Equestria and that Sandalwood was with her. The letter said that they would be there as soon as practical.

It was nothing less than a miracle. Twilight and Pinkie had promised her so long ago that she would be reunited with her lost foal, and at today 11am sharp, the culmination of fifteen years of pain, sorrow and hurt would end in glorious triumph.

“Mother,” Minty said, still yawning from having woken up so early, “Would you tell me and Elusive what’s going on and why we had to miss school today?”

“Yes,” the white unicorn said, her face positively radiant, “but we will wait until your aunts arrive, okay?”

At that pronouncement, Minty’s attention was piqued. She knew she came from a large extended family, but it was rare when all her aunts and uncles were in the same place. “So everypony will be here?” she asked.

“Not everyone,” Silversteel replied. “The princesses must unfortunately remain at the castle due to their duties; Spike is on a diplomatic mission to the Dominion of Dragons, so he won’t be back until later tonight. Shining and Soarin’ are searching for the changeling stronghold, and we could not get word to them in time. Noteworthy is on the way back from his performance in Las Pegasas, but he won’t make it back in time. And you know Macintosh is about the farm and Thundermane about weather duty.”

“Fortunately, all your aunts will be here,” Rarity said, proudly. Her closest friends, all present for this most special of moments. Though, in truth, they’ve become to me more like sisters now. Even Celestia and Luna; we have definitely become a family. But there was a time when none of those would have come to pass, when Rarity was just a young mother with a newborn foal and not knowing about the trials she would have to see over the next few years. Closing her eyes, she recalled that time:

“Rarity, what are you doing here?” Twilight asked. “The doctor said you shouldn’t be out of bed right now.”

“I spoke to Dr. Stethoscope, and he said as long as I didn’t go all the way back to Ponyville, I should be fine,” the somewhat exhausted unicorn said, as she released her magic. The aura gone, the pram came to a stop, its contents safe. “Besides, I’ve sent you four magical letters and you weren’t answering.”

“Sorry,” Twilight told her dear friend. “Been working on an important project, and I wanted to get it finished before Soarin’ and Rainbow’s wedding next month.”

“Hi sis!” Sweetie Belle poked her head out from her position under the strange contraption. She held a sextant and a few other things that Rarity had never seen before, but then again Rarity had only the basic level of magic spells and a few lapidimancy spells she’d created on her own; she wasn’t a member of the Mage Guild, unlike Twilight or Sweetie, much less had the expansive understanding of the mystic arts that either of them had. “Is that…?”

Rarity nodded, dragging over a settee for her to plop down on. “I thought Sandalwood could use some fresh air, so I thought I’d take her out to come see some of her favorite aunts.”

Twilight grinned. “I thought Luna was her favorite aunt?”

Rarity, using her magic, gently lifted her newborn daughter out of the stroller, wafting her over to Twilight. “It would be unladylike of my young Sandalwood to play favorites. Besides, what other foal has a panalopy of the world’s most powerful ponies as her aunts and uncles? I wouldn’t want her to be spoiled by her advantages.” Rarity looked at the object. “So, what is this?”

The object in question looked, at first, like a giant doorframe against a huge slab of quartz Twilight had conjured into the room. The slab had dozens of mystic runes and spellscript glyphs across its expanse, and connected to the doorframe was a set of cables that trailed off across the floor, snaking down the length of the room until they headed down a set of stairs leading to the basement where Twilight’s usual workspaces were. Various pieces of machinery, tools and magic artifacts littered the floor here and there; to any common pony, what they were doing was absolutely mind-boggling but Rarity had known her friend to tackle and defy the impossible on a regular basis, from defeating demons and chaos avatars to rescuing princesses – such was the life of a Bearer, the duty that had consumed most of their lives since they met six years past.

Twilight floated a cloth over to her face to dab the sweat from her damp coat before it got into her eyes. “It’s a Panoramic Operational Remote Temporadimensional Access Link, or ‘Portal’, for short. What it should do is to allow us to study other dimensions and understand them, maybe even access other realities.”

“Twilight, dear, I think those Daring Do novels are starting to get to your head. Granted, I don’t have the wealth of knowledge you do, but even I know that other realities are just theoretical. Though I’ve read a couple of them, I assure you Daring Do and the Quest for Queen Faust is not a non-fictional document.”

Sweetie frowned. “Rarity, wouldn’t be great if we could meet other civilizations? What if we found, for example, humans?”

The fashionista laughed gently. “My dear, dear little sister,” she drolled, “humans are nothing but a myth; something some delusional pony bard from a time long gone deliriously dreamed up in a salt-and-alcohol induced fantasy. And I assure you, if the truth is anything like the myth, we very much wouldn’t want them visiting our world.

The unicorn apprentice had a downcast look on her face, but suddenly there was a crash at the location where the wires all met, followed by the cry of “Whoops, my bad!”

Both unicorn mages laughed good-naturedly while Twilight yelled, “Derpy, you okay?”

Derpy came walking up the steps from the basement. She was smudged in various oils and fluids, but she had a smile on her face, the kind that said she was in her element. Her eyes seemed to assume a normal position before they went in different directions. “Twilight, the calculation on the formula for the thaumaturgial restrainer was off by a bit so I corrected it.”

“You did?”

The pegasus grinned; it seemed like the smile of an airhead even though the eyes reflected something far different. “Check your numbers. The correct calculation should be ‘[(-6.5) - (-1.2)]/1500 = -0.0035’, right? You had it at “(-1)”. That could be really problematic.”

Twilight floated a very worn notebook over to her, flipping through the pages until she got to the right formula. “And you did the numbers in your head?”

“Well…you were busy with the other stuff, so I didn’t get a chance to ask you for a notebook to write down with. I hope it’s okay.”

“Derpy, you just prevented the power crystal from being turned into a rocket that would punch through my home and who knows how many different houses in Canterlot!” She willed into existence a pad and pen, floating them over to the pegasus. “If you see something wrong, by all means let me know!”

Derpy took it and stuck both in the tool belt she was currently wearing. “Thanks!” The pegasus then pushed some of her blonde mane out of her eyes as she asked Rarity? “Is that your new foal?”

Rarity nodded. “Very much so. She’s a beautiful little thing and she’s going to be the first in our family.” At those words, a sudden sob came over Derpy and the trio noticed. “Derpy, dear, is there something wrong?”

“Just, what you said. I…I miss her…my first daughter. I see her all the time,” Derpy said, burying her face in her forehooves, tears beginning to glisten in her eyes. “I shouldn’t have done it. I did what was right, but I shouldn’t have done it.”

“You mean you had another foal before you adopted your daughters?” Rarity asked as she went over to Derpy, Sandalwood in her forehooves. She proffered the foal over to Derpy, the two-day old newborn gurgling as Derpy took her into her own cradled forelegs.

“I…I need to talk about this to somepony. It’s eating me up inside, and I feel like I’m lying everytime I say I’m happy knowing I can never really be as close to my daughter as I want to be.”

“Derpy, we’re your friends,” the fashionista commented, nuzzling the pegasus. “Whatever it is, we are always here for you.” And it was true. While, granted, Derpy’s usual nature regularly confounded and confused the fashionista, it didn’t make her any less of a friend.

She nodded weakly. “Thanks. I need to get this off my mind,” she moaned, “but you have to promise me you won’t tell another soul.”

“I’ll Pinkie Promise,” Rarity said solemnly. “We all will.”

“Pinkie Promise and Muffin Promise?”

Rarity was about to ask for an explanation when Twilight commented, “Absolutely, Derpy.” With that, the three unicorns performed the sober yet silly ritual that was the Pinkie Promise, followed by the extra parts of the Muffin Promise, with the fashionista attempting to keep up with the magic users:

“Muffin Promise I thus make,
A solemn vow to never break.
If I cannot keep this wish,
No muffins e’er grace my dish!”

Derpy wiped her eyes, looking at her friends with nothing less than absolute gratitude. “You gals are the best in the world, you know that?” she said, wiping her eyes as Twilight conjured up some drinks and snacks while Sweetie brought seats for them to sit down. Rarity took her foal again, glancing at Sandalwood briefly before looking at the heartbroken pegasus.

Looking over the edge of her cup of tea, Twilight began. “So what happened?”

Derpy sighed; this wasn’t going to be easy by any means. She then went into detail into everything: from how she and her twin sister Ditzy Doo met Autumn Breeze, and how though he was attracted to both sisters, he ultimately married Ditzy; to how her frequent infidelities caused her to have foals with other stallions and pushed him to the breaking point; how he finally went to Derpy for advice, but instead they ended up on a three-week tryst but let him go out of love; how she became pregnant with his foal; how she gave birth to Hazy Jane and eventually followed his suggestion; and how her daughter was being raised (if you could call it that) as Ditzy’s own; to her moving to a new town, adopting her current foals and finally moving to Ponyville the year before Ditzy and Autumn moved nearby.

The three unicorns were very quiet for several minutes before Rarity said, “I suppose that explains why Hazy is so dear to you. I mean, I’ve seen you with your nieces and nephews and you clearly love them all, but everypony that knows you knows that you’ve always had a special place in your heart for your lookalike niece. Now we know why.”

“Why would you do that?” Sweetie asked, unable to understand.

“Because I couldn’t do to Autumn what my sister’s been doing,” she answered, a unusual guilty look crossing the pegasus’ face. “To have Hazy around would have been a reminder of that, something that my sister could use against him. I honestly don’t know if she loves him or not – maybe she does, considering that every time one of her affairs ends she always goes back to him – but just because she chooses to be that kind of pony doesn’t give me the right to be one.”

She looked at her friends, and only Rarity came closest to understanding what kind of bucephalean task the pegasus had done. “Every time I see her, or hear about how Ditzy’s screwed up something again, or when they all get sent from their home because Ditzy and Autumn are fighting, I wonder if I made the right choice.”

“Knowing you,” Twilight said, “I’m sure it was. You never do anything lightly, not that I’ve ever seen.”

“Twilight’s right, you know,” Rarity pointed out. “You’re a remarkable mare and what you did took an extraordinary amount of courage. If I ever lost my precious Sandalwood, I don’t know what I’d do.”

“You never will,” Derpy assured her with the promise only one mother could give another. “If she’s ever in danger and I can do something to protect her, I’ll do everything I can.”

“Hey, Rarity,” Applejack drawled, “you awake there?”

The white unicorn blinked. “Oh…sorry, Applejack. I was lost in thought. Thinking about poor Derpy and what she did for me. I can never repay her kindness for that day.” Her features became etched in sorrow as she admitted, “She shouldn’t have had to die to save Sandalwood – none of them should have.”

“Not’cher fault, sugarcube,” the earth pony said with an understanding look in her eyes. “Derpy lost sumthin’ special, Ah guess. Can’t hardly reckon whut it wuz, but it made ‘er fight them bandits like she wus a dragon. An’ Ah’ll betcha bits t’ bushels that ‘er daughters did th’ same. They all gave better’n they got, Ah’m shure, an’ Ah know Celestia agrees, havin’ given her family that title ‘n all.”

Rarity, of course, knew. Hazy Jane had grown up to be a fine and upstanding mare, and Derpy’s twin sister had changed her ways after the incident. She’d become a mother to her foals finally and had patched up her marriage to her husband, the six fillies and colts between them finally a family at last, though, interestingly, not a one of the foals shared blood between both parents. Perhaps, most importantly, Ditzy had never assumed her sister’s posthumous title of Baroness Campolina, instead insisting on being the Steward to the House until the day came that a new head would be chosen – did that mean that the mare was waiting until the day that Hazy was old enough to know the truth?

“Quite so,” was all that Rarity could say to her old friend. AJ would have to find out the whole story on her own; Rarity had long since given up the bad habit of gossip – and plus, she’d made both a Pinkie Promise and a Muffin Promise, and neither was to be taken lightly.

“Rarity, c’mon! Put a smile on that face! Turn that frown upside down!” A bouncy blur of pink said as she literally waltzed into the room, a manic grin on her face. “You know the rules! Smile, smile, smile!”

Seeing the cheeriness on Pinkie’s face, Rarity couldn’t help but to smile slightly, chuckling as she wiped tears from her eyes. “I’m sorry,” Rarity commented, overcome with emotion for a moment. “It’s just…everypony has done so much for me and I can’t even begin to thank you all.”

In a rare case of seriousness, Pinkie smiled warmly and said, “Rarity, you’re family. Which means she’s family. Which means Twilight and I will do everything to make sure she comes back. And we did! Right? Right?” The party pony threw her forearms around her in a hug, squeezing tightly. “In just a few hours, Sandie’ll be back and we’ll spoil her rotten – we’ve got all those years to catch up with, right?”

Rarity said nothing, not wanting to ruin the moment. After all, today was the culmination of what Twilight and Pinkie had both promised her, and though they’d kept their word, back then it seemed like nothing more than a pipe dream:

Silversteel, his face a mask of pain, stared at Twilight in disbelief. “If this is a joke of any kind, Twilight, it isn’t funny.”

“I’m not joking, Silver. Can I come in?” He nodded slightly and she stumbled as she came into the carousel house, the look on her face bleak; the stallion moved forward to catch her. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Not exactly at my peak.”

The guardspony looked at his wife’s close friend and noticed something: Twilight was a disheveled mess herself, looking as though she hadn’t slept in weeks and was running purely off her magic. “You don’t look good,” he commented.

“No…I’ve been a little…um, obsessed lately with my research,” she said weakly. Silver blanched a little when she mentioned that; he’d heard about Twilight’s legendary bouts of obsession, including the case where all of Ponyville was held under her thrall because she’d abused her magic in one particular case. “I’ve been running on nothing but my magic for the past few days,” she added.

“Are you crazy?” Silver nearly shouted. He didn’t know much about the theory of subsisting on magic save that it had a strange name for the theory – praecan-something or other – and that it was ridiculously dangerous. The magic would eventually start pulling from the pony’s life force and cause them to kill themselves in the long run; for someone as powerful as Twilight, it could be completely dangerous.

“I know. Even the princesses don’t do it, even though they could safely,” the unicorn mage slurred as he helped her to a couch. “But I needed to take the chance while the trail was still hot, so to speak. But please, get Rarity. I want you both to hear this, the full explanation.”

A few minutes went by as Silversteel convinced Rarity to come downstairs into the lower residential part of the home. Rarity looked gaunt, haggard, as though she’d been crying non-stop since the funeral. Both mares looked at each other and then fell into each other’s forelegs, waterfalls of sorry raining down Rarity’s cheeks.

“Twilight, dearest Twilight, I’m sorry that I haven’t been in touch with you as much as I should be, but I’ve been hurting so.” No drama queen theatrics this time; the Element of Generosity looked as though she was ready to die. “It hurts…I just don’t want to go on without my little Sandalwood.” Rarity buried her head in her hooves, crying for the daughter she’d lost just a little over two weeks prior, killed by a destructive lightning bolt from a magic storm. The same storm the brigands were seeking shelter from when they raided Derpy’s home.

“But that’s the thing, Rarity.” Twilight paused as if trying to pull the right words from her sleep-deprived mind. “I’ve reason to believe that Sandalwood isn’t dead. That the lightning bolt transported her somewhere else.” Rarity’s head bolted up from her crying position and Twilight took that as a sign to continue, looking at both of Sandalwood’s parents. “The day after the funeral I went to the site, because I…I needed to say something to Derpy and her daughters. I don’t know why, but I was carrying the testing device that she built with me, maybe because I wanted to leave it with her at the grave. But when I got there, it started to flash and beep.”

“Flash and beep,” Silversteel deadpanned, not understanding how this had anything to do with Sandalwood.

Twilight nodded. “I then looked at the device and noticed it was giving me some kind of reading. The readings match the magic signature given off by my portal device,” Twilight said.

Rarity’s eyes grew wide, grabbing onto Twilight’s words like a lifeline; granted, she was no student of magic but even she understood what it meant. “That means that Sandalwood might not have been killed….”

Twilight nodded eagerly, fighting her exhaustion. “We’re going to start looking into other realities now, Pinkie and I. We’re going to find her and bring Sandalwood back, Rarity, Silversteel. You have my word on that. We’ll bring her back.”

There was a flash in the air, followed by the appearance of a magical letter; pulled back to reality from her thoughts, the fashionista took the scroll and unfurled it immediately. After a few seconds, a grand smile lit upon her face. “Twilight said they just left her place via chariot and will be here in thirty minutes.”

“Are you ready for this?” Rainbow Dash asked, walking towards her with Scootaloo following close behind. Both of them, as opposed to everypony else present, had stoic, unreadable looks on their faces, very much unlike either happy-go-lucky pegasus.

“Ah dunno ‘bout y’all, but Ah got ‘nuf nervousness for everypony,” the farmer pony commented.

“Everything will be fine, I’m sure,” Fluttershy said as she approached; a beatific demeanor on her face as she approached the others. Rarity looked at the yellow pegasus and a slight smile came to her face as she remembered once again how very much her dear friend had changed throughout the years. Of course, it hadn’t been without hardship: Fluttershy and Big Mac’s first foal, a pegasus colt named Butterscotch, died shortly after birth; the pair had tried to have another foal since, but had yet to happen. Fluttershy was probably the only one present who understood the loss of a foal.

“Thank you, Applejack, Fluttershy,” Rarity replied as she gave a smile to her friends. “I’m sure there’s nothing to be worried about. My daughter survived all these years, so it was clear that she was taken care of by a wonderful family, I’m sure. I guess ponies, even in other realities, are as caring as we are here in ours.”

At that, Rainbow and Scoots looked at each other before turning back to Rarity, looks of trepidation plastered on their visages. “Um…you don’t know…about who took care of Sandalwood?”

“Now that you mention it, that never came up,” Silversteel answered.

“You mean they’re not ponies?” A sudden thought flashed across Rarity’s mind, before she laughed, waving it off. “Okay, so perhaps they were zebras, then. If so, that would be interesting, as Sandalwood would learn the zebras’ native language, though it will be difficult to communicate with her if she uses a rhyming patois like our dear friend Zecora.”

“Actually….” There was a pregnant paused before Rainbow spoke up. “Um, based on what we know, she was, uh…raised on a world where ponies don’t exist. Or any equines whatsoever.” Another pause. “So, she, uh, wasn’t exactly raised by zebras.”

“So, who’s been takin’ care o’ th’ li’l darlin’?” Applejack ventured. As she spoke a sudden pit sank in Fluttershy’s stomach as she looked at the fashionista with concern.

“I…well….” Scootaloo began, not sure if she should speak further.

“Humans,” a voice called from across the room. Everyone looked to turn and noted Sweetie Belle walking into the home, Apple Bloom close behind her. “Sandalwood’s been raised on a world populated by humans – and they’re the only sapient species on that Earth.” The younger mare went over to hug her sister, and then her brother-in-law before continuing with, “So she’ll need time to adjust to being back here in Equestria amongst ponies, because she’s been raised as somepony of an entirely different species.”

“Humans?” Rarity asked, eye twitching suddenly.

Scootaloo nodded. “Yeah. But from what we know, they’re not like the myths.”

Rarity was about to say something when Silversteel intervened, looking at all three mares who knew. “How do you know about that?”

The look on Scootaloo’s face was as if she’d been caught with her hoof in the cookie jar. “I…uh, well….”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Rainbow piped in. “Uh, Soarin’ gave us a report a couple of months ago on it; apparently it was hush-hush so there wouldn’t be a public panic or anything,” she commented. “Um…sorry for not mentioning it sooner, but several of us were promised to secrecy. I mean, you know how Twi can be when it comes to government stuff an’ all.”

Silversteel chuckled uneasily; Celestia’s protégé was certainly overbearing when it came to that sort of thing, but he knew overall that the unicorn mage must have meant well; if Twilight had a good reason to keep it under wraps, then there had to be a good reason. Even still….humans?

Rarity’s mind, however, went somewhere else, somewhere much darker.

Rarity was back in Canterlot for her regular duties. It was the day after the funeral for the dead foal Rarity had so heartbreakingly named Toola-Roola. Now buried in a small grave next to an apple tree sapling, that Applejack had planted, the grave would forever be with a family to watch over her, as it was just outside the door to Rarity’s old home. Furthermore, Tom, the old rock that Discord had ensorcelled the fashionista into thinking was a diamond, was appointed to be the filly’s guardian for eternity. Considering the boulder had been there since the day she moved it by her home, she couldn’t think of a better “friend” to watch over the foal.

However, today, she was meeting Twilight and Sweetie for lunch at the former’s place. Unfortunately, she showed up much too early, as she knocked several times only to find no one home. Knowing her old friend wouldn’t mind, Rarity keyed the spell triggers for the door lock and then went in the house.

As she entered the house and plopped down on a convenient settee, she noticed a bunch of reports sitting on the coffee table in front of her. A casual glance at them revealed that they were various reports that Twilight, Pinkie and their respective teams while traveling to these various realities.

Five years now. Twilight and Pinkie and her teams had been searching on a regular basis for five years now and the first sign they came upon was the remains of a dead foal, one that sent Rarity into utter despair. Thankfully, forensic spells had already been cast on the bones, revealing that the foal had been transported to her fate well before the Fall of the Moon, making the bones closer to Celestia’s and Luna’s age rather than everypony else. Rarity wished the young filly would have survived, as Rarity would have taken her under hoof. Even now, with her second foal, Minty, now born to the family, the soft-green earth pony could never take the place of her missing older sister.

A few minutes went by before Rarity became bored with waiting. Before she was about to say something, Twilight sent a flamefax scroll letting her know that both mages were caught in an overly long meeting and would have to miss lunch but could make up for it with dinner. Rarity quickly responded that it would be fine, but that she’d just stay at Twilight’s place until they arrived. Planning to take a nap now, the Knight Elemental was about to lay down when she saw a report entitled REALITY 34156H – Report on discovery of pony posthumously named “Toola-Roola”.

Rarity opened the report, reading the first page:

EXECUTIVE SUMMARY

Location: 47° 3’ 42” N, 104° 41’ 2” W. Series of tents made of animal hide placed over poles by a riverside dividing a grassy plain.

Objects: Bones, pony. Bones determined to have been present for quite some time in the largest tent. Based on structure, determined to be an earth pony, female, approx. 5 months in age.

Location Discovered: Dwelling. Dwelling is primitive, far less advanced than what is used by diamond dogs. Dwelling could be considered pre-historic, but unknown based on history of owners.

Owner: Bipedal species. Plantigrade, two walking limbs, two limbs used as “arms”, similar to minotaur species. Species appears to be primate in nature, similar to that of apes in the Southeastern Continent, near Zebrababwean and Gazellisean lands. Rudimentary clothing, primitive weapons. Attempted to attack party initially, though warned off via guards.

Presumed that creatures are human. While I understand that “humans” refer to a mythical species on our world, these creatures fit the general description. Request that someone with a working knowledge of cryptozoology look the attached pictures over. For the remainder of the report I will refer to them as “humans” for the sake of clarity. Full description of attacker is documented in Appendix B.

Contact: Brief skirmish in retrieving bones. Four casualties on Guard side: pegasus guard, Flying Diamond, seriously injured; pegasus guard, Stormy Clouds, killed by spear to neck; earth pony guard, Deep Forest, beaten to death by humans’ clubs; Beta Team Leader, Pinkie Pie, light concussion and minor injuries. Fifteen casualties on human side: all humans knocked unconscious by mages defending on site, save for spear thrower, whose arm was broken by earth pony guard Deep Forest’s bucking.

Recommendation: Strongly recommending the guard and guild contingents be doubled for further investigations of other worlds.

Harmony Grass
Assistant Team Leader
Project SANDALWOOD Team Beta

cc: Archmagus, Mage Guild

Captain of the Guard, Royal Guard

Office of Princess Celestia

Office of Princess Luna

Office of Princess Cadance

Written underneath the main part of the summary was Harmony Grass’ handwriting: Twilight, we barely survived that mess! I thought Pinkie was a goner, for sure! Next time, if we run into anything like that again and we don’t have protection? I’m going to start ordering the casting of weapons-grade attacks with the intent to kill! Those things were MONSTERS!
- Harmony

Rarity gasped when she read Harmony’s writing, unbelieving. She’d met the unicorn stallion on several occasions, and he was a gruff but caring mage who looked out for everyone in a paternal sort of manner, certainly not the kind of pony that would suddenly fly off the harness and recommend the slaughter of innocent creatures! What manner of beings were these things if they made somepony as calm as Harmony come to such a conclusion?

Rarity’s curiosity got the better of her. Any thoughts of beauty rest gone, she dived right into the report like a madmare. By the time it was over, and having looked at the three appendices, the fashionista wanted to cry and tear out the heart of any of those filthy creatures at the same time. Cut marks on Toola’s bones indicated that she’d been eaten by the creatures, possibly and paradoxically as some sort of sacred animal. The battle had been described in detail in the main report, and what she saw repulsed her; she was by no means a stranger to combat, having faced off against Nightmare Moon, Discord, changelings and other creatures, but still, there was a difference between battle and a brawl – and the humans brought the latter.

And then there were the looks of these hideous, unwashed creatures! Bearded faces, primitive culture and backwards ways, these savages had destroyed the life of an innocent little filly, one Rarity would have loved with all her heart had they found her alive. And somewhere out there, beyond the paries quartum that separated the realities from one another, was her daughter. Was Sandalwood still alive? Was she being cared for by a loving, wonderful pony family, or was she being devoured by savage humans? Or worse?

Rarity cried herself to sleep and morosely picked at dinner with Twilight and Sweetie, feigning illness. Neither of them suspected that she’d seen the report, and it was certainly something that she was never going to voice to either of them.

No, it can’t be true about humans, Rarity decided for herself. Rainbow and the others must have misheard, that’s all. I highly doubt that if my beloved daughter is still alive that she’d have survived this long being raised by predatory monsters. Rarity smiled weakly to the others; so lost in thought was she that she’d missed just about everything that had been said, as well as the note Twilight sent five minutes ago that they had just landed and were now here.

But now, Twilight was opening the door, coming into the home, a nervous look on her face. Rarity picked up on that and moved forward. “Twilight!” she practically screamed in joy. “Thank you! Thank you so much for what you’ve done for me!”

“Absolutely,” Silversteel said, coming up towards them, a wide smile on his face. “I cannot thank you enough for what you’ve done for us.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Twilight said, an unreadable look on her face. “Rarity, before we start, I should te—”

The white unicorn turned. “She’s outside! Places, everypony!” she sang out. “Minty, Elusive, come here, please!”

“Yes, Mother?” Minty said as the teen and her younger brother approached.

“I’ve got a surprise for you both – your sister has finally returned!”

“I’m…not sure I would….” Twilight began, but was drowned out by the squealing of delight of Rarity.

“Our little family will finally be whole again!” she cooed to her husband and foals, embracing them all. “We’ll have our Sandalwood back and she’ll never leave us again.” Looking at the lavender unicorn, she said, “We’re ready!”

“Rarity, I really think we—”

“I’ll just have to get her size so I can fit her for a dress!” Rarity said, absently. “The Gala’s in a few weeks, and that would be a wonderful opportunity to present such a beautiful lady to eligible young bachelors, don’t you think?”

“I think you’re getting ahead of yourself, love,” Silversteel chuckled. “We’ll still need to give her time to readjust to being home.”

“Oh, hush – she’s our daughter! Of course she’ll take to being home again like a duck to water. This is, after all, where she belongs.”

Twilight sighed; she wasn’t going to get through to Rarity like this. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see AJ and Pinkie looking at her briefly; if they caught her hesitation, both seemed to presume that now was not the time to bring it up. Guess we’ll have to do this the hard way. Walking towards the door, Twilight poked her head out the door and said, “Okay, everyone come in.”

To Rarity’s barely concealed horror, several humans walked into the door, males and females, including two probably around the same age as she. And then, last of all, was Sandalwood. And upon seeing her daughter, Rarity felt both sorry, shock and horror: her daughter was walking, probably quite painfully, on her hindlegs, dressed just like a human and carrying herself like one. There was no sign of her cutie mark, as it was covered by pants; likewise, she was dressed in a formal shirt and her hair was done up in a docktail.

The first touches of anger welled in her; she could also feel the same in her husband as she looked at him briefly. Oh, Sandalwood, what have they done to you?

Standing roughly between both groups, Twilight cleared her throat and began, “DJ, in order against the back wall are your aunts Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo. The filly here is your younger sister Minty, and the colt is your brother Elusive. And last, but not least, this is your mother, Rarity; and your father, Silversteel.”

Rarity looked for a sign of the foal she’d spent so many years obsessing over, trying to see if there was any sign of her in the human-like pony before her. Was she nervous about being freed from these humans? Was she anxious to return home amongst her own kind? Rarity’s eyes welled up at the thought. Words came to mind, but she couldn’t find her voice to say anything. Finally, closing her eyes and focusing for a second, she asked with teary eyes as she looked at her daughter, “Are you really my precious Sandalwood, come back to me?”

Sandalwood looked back at the two older humans, as if nervous – was she afraid that they were going to take her and deny her a return to her own people? She then looked at another human, a male, and the look in his eyes…Rarity shuddered at what that meant. How deep had the abuse run? The younger male said something Rarity knew clearly had to be some kind of threat or warning: “Go. We’re here for you.”

Sandalwood stepped forward, cautiously, unsure, before she raised a foreleg like an arm and waved, saying “Um, hi.”

Redemption Song

“Hey, and Good Morning Canterlot! You’re listening to the one and only HPRN 101.5, The Prance, the only place where you get the most rockin’ hits! It’s me, your morning host, Soundscape and I’m joined here in the studio by a very special guest. Speak and be known to the world of ponydom, guest!”

“Hiya, listeners! Logan Branford here.”

“Logan’s from legendary human radio station 94.7 KMET in Los Angeles, where he’s the host of…well, I don’t wanna steal your thunder here, Logan, so why don’t you explain to our listeners?”

“Thanks, Sounds. I’m the host of ‘The Outernational Incident’, a music program showcasing global grooves from both Earths. That stuff that’s just too awesome not to be on the radio, you know?”

“Oh, do I. Anyways, folks, Logan’s here as part of this year’s annual FiMPro – he’s taking over Wax Spinner’s slot from 2 – 6 weekdays—”

“And on Saturdays, from 6-10pm, I’ll be simulcasting ‘The Outernational Incident’ both in LA and here!”

“Wow, sounds like you’ve got your hands full, Logan! Man, I wish I’d gotten that vacation to human-Earth like Waxie did.”

“Ah, but he’s gotta take care of my regular listeners for the next three months, so I’m sure they’ll keep him nice and busy.”

“Well, great to have you here at The Prance. Got a little something to whet our ears with?”

“Oh, you betcha. Here’s a little something for the listeners out there.”

Soundscape cut the microphone, listening in on the music for a few seconds before pulling them off and declaring, “Wow, that’s the wildest stuff I’ve heard.”

“Just a little Bob Marley, not one of his best songs, but probably his most radio friendly,” Logan shrugged, detaching his phone from the feed when it was done. “A little something to get their feet wet. Remind me later and I’ll bring in the hard drives with the good stuff. Everybody thinks that a 40-year-old Madonna song that has Sansrkit chanting is cool, but wait until you hear a master like Marley, Nitin Sawhney or Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. Trust me, my drives have got the good stuff.”

“Well, don’t mind this pony,” Sounds said with a grin. “I’ll let you get with your sound engineer.”

“Sound engineer? Back in LA, we just worked with computer systems.”

“Not here. Boss likes doing things the old way; while he realizes that music has to be stored on modern formats – otherwise we’d be using actual phonographs – he still likes the engineers to be ponies and not machines. Personally, I agree with you; I got to see the computer setup they have down the road at HNZL, but, hey, boss is what boss is, you know?”

“Yeah,” Logan said, glumly. He didn’t care much for working with engineers. Nothing against them personally, of course; they did their jobs and when not working the studio they made sure the equipment was running smoothly. But the kind music he played required pretty much to be tuned song to song, so much so that Logan had written programs for the computer to autoengineer the sound depending on the song played in the playlist that show. An unfamiliar engineer might mistake a Senegalese drum ensemble for a drum and base act and mis-set accordingly; if they were completely unfamiliar, well – he still had his copy of the apology letter he had to write to the Orchestra Nacional de Rock over that little incident.

“But hey, don’t worry – I got you the hook-up. I talked to a friend who works over at our sister station HPGF, the classical station, and they have a sound engineer who might fit your needs. Just an intern, admittedly, but very good with the decks, so I’m told – should be here in a couple of minutes.”

There was a sudden knock on the sound booth’s glass, and Sound’s engineer called over, “Hey, the intern’s here.”

“Cue up the next song and pass on that they can meet in the break room, ‘kay?” When the engineer nodded, the unicorn gave him a smile and said, “Break room’s just around the corner; you can’t miss it.”

Logan sighed. “You sure I can’t talk your boss into letting me have a computer system?”

“Only if you’re willing to pay for the entire rig yourself.” When the human sighed again, this time in defeat, the stallion just shrugged. “It’s only for three months, and I promise this’ll be the three most interesting months of your life. You’re supposed to put your best hoof forward for humanity, right? FiMPro and all that. Don’t start yourself off bad, okay?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“I know I’m right. Now get going and show that legendary style you’re known for. I gotta do a station ID and then an interview with the lead singer of The Polypony Spree.” Logan snuck out as quickly as he could, not wanting to interrupt his counterpart, then closed the door. To his right, the ON AIR sign – an ancient, flip-card style sign – was set to the ON AIR position.

“Now, which way,” he said, wondering aloud.

Two mares started to walk towards him down the hallway, lost in thought. As typical of pony females, they wore no clothing. He was already warned about that repeatedly and it made him somewhat self-conscious; the lone pony he’d known in his life previously always wore clothing, but that was because of her upbringing. But DJ had been through that hell fifteen years ago and it had scarred his dear friend badly, he knew; the bright and bubbly girl he’d known before that year had become sullen and cynical afterwards, though Mike had told him she was slowly becoming her old self again.

Besides, the two were walking past him and that gave him the opportunity to at least ask. But as they approached him, he heard words he hadn’t quite expected.

“So, like, ya, did you see that freak in the break room?” the first mare commented, rolling her eyes as she spoke.

“Yeah, totes thinks he’s like, a skinner or something,” her friend agreed. The moment they realized they were walking towards a human, the two shut up immediately, at least having the good grace to shut up in his presence. As they thought they were out of earshot, the second one said, “OhmiCelestia – a buckin’ skinner! In the building! What is this world comin’ to?”

“Yeah, totally,” her friend agreed.

Logan, however, kept his mouth shut; he was here to make friends with his fellow sapients, not to start fights. Besides, in their diatribe, they did at least point the direction in which the break room was, so he couldn’t complain too much. Remembering to stay clear of the those three in future situations, he continued down the opposite hallway, heading around the corner and towards the turn.

I suppose it could be worse, he thought to himself. During the FiMPro briefing, he was notified that though tensions were down very much from the bad old days of “the War of the Elements” – whatever that was – there were still plenty in ponydom who less than kind towards humans. Thankfully, he hadn’t seen much of that in those he’d met to date, but then again, he was staying at the Marriott Canterlot North, a five-star hotel catering to humans in Canterlot’s human neighborhood of Northside. Were he to wade into the elite portion of Westridge or the poorer areas of Southton, he wasn’t as sure he’d be welcome there. Fortunately, he wasn’t the only one in the FiMPro, just the highest profile one this year.

As he rounded the corner, he heard the shouts coming from the open area break room. And as he got closer, he noted a very fat unicorn reading someone the riot act. He was a very pale orange in coat with a thinning electric-blue mane that looked as if it had been combed over. He wore an ugly tie and he had a huge, stinking stogie in his right foreleg; his cutie mark was that of a radio tower sending out transmission sparks. And whomever he was yelling at right now, he was giving that pony a piece of his mind and more: “…and you come into my station dressed as if you’re the Queen of Humans or something! I’m not paying you to come here and dress like you’re going to the Grand Galloping Gala!”

Logan never liked bullies. He dated one in his early years. He spent most of his high school years protecting his friends from them. And so far in his adult life, he’d been mercifully free of them. But that didn’t mean he was going to put up with them if they made a return in his life. “Um, actually, I…uh, requested it,” he said, ad libbing on the fly. “When Sounds said they were going to send me an intern, I asked that one be dressed so it’d make things easier for me.”

“Yeah, and who the hay a—Oh, the human celebrity!” Funny how the pony’s demeanor changed once he realized who he was speaking to. “Ah, good to meet you. Name’s Fuzzy Warbles. I own several of the stations around the country and was glad to offer them to the service of FiMPro this year. Glad to have you aboard and see what you can do for my station – I mean, furthering human-pony relations!” Turning back to the first individual he was speaking to, he said, “Okay, you’re off the hook. But keep it on the downlow – this place ain’t no fashion show.” Nothing more to say, he offered another greeting to Logan before excusing himself for a meeting and heading off.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, finally turning to see who was getting chewed out. And when he did, he was very surprised.

“I think so, thanks, but I’ve been through worse.” Logan found himself staring at a young pegasus stallion. He had a light gray coat and dark mauve-and-lilac mane and tail, which brought out deep orange-red eyes. He was wearing a green sweater with a white t-shirt underneath and slacks. He also wore a pair of glasses, and his hair was short, crowned by a Lennon cap. His hindhooves were clad in shoes; not the typical Equestriani sandals that went with formal attire, but human-styled shoes, similar to what DJ wore. Logan almost laughed; at least, the pony screamed “Apple corporate employee”; at most, clearly going for the hipster look.

“So, you’re my intern?”

“Uh huh.”

He offered a hand. “Logan Bradford.”

He took the hand, connected with his palm and used his hoofspace to shake. “Dusty Groove. And don’t worry about the boss. He can be a jerk at times, and I’m used to the jokes.”

“What joke? That you’re an intern?”

“Actually, that is my job. No, the part that I’m working with you.”

“Uh, did I do something wrong?”

“Naaaah, not in the least. But as for me,” he said, moving his forelegs to encompass himself, “I’m not the most, er, normal of ponies.” Logan looked at what he was wearing and wondering what was wrong, when suddenly it dawned on him: he was wearing clothing, something ponies never did unless they were visiting a place with clothing requirements, like human-Earth. Then the second thing dawned on him that his forwardmost limbs weren’t being used as forelegs…they were being used as arms.

“I’ll deal,” the pegasus said as he noticed realization crossing Logan’s eyes. “That’s just how things roll in Equestria. You’re either normal, or you’re…well, not.”

“Dude, one of my closest friends has spent a life being not normal,” Logan assured him. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah, sez you,” Dusty commented. “Humanized ponies are still considered weird here in Equestria – especially those like myself or, to give a more famous example, our ambassador to the US…and she went through years of crap before ponies just accepted she was weird.”

“‘Humanized pony?’”

“That’s the nice term,” Dusty commented. “Some of the nastier ones are ‘faker’ or ‘skingraft,’ whatever that means. Basically, it’s a pony that prefers to live like a human – clothing, standing and moving upright, and so forth and so on, kinda like the Lost Foal. If anything, we get it worse than the old human conspiracy theorists of old, because they had no proof of your existence – and now that we do, ponies like me, well…that should be obvious. And since I don’t know of any humans who prefer to live like ponies, we get all the derision.”

“So you’re trying to be something you’re not?”

“Maybe physically – I’m never going to avoid being a pony there. But as for the insides? Well, let’s just say I prefer to wear clothing, galloping is a chore, and I really need to go to New York one day so I can try this one Italian place that supposedly has the best meatball subs in the world.”

“Well, we can chat more about this later, but for the moment, I suppose we should discuss the engineering for tonight’s show. Now, bear in mind, because of the tuning involved in each genre of music played, there’s going to be some radical changes in the setup for each song.”

The pegasus waved it off. “Don’t worry, I got it.”

“But you haven’t heard anything about what I play.”

Dusty chuckled. “Dude, don’t worry about it. Seriously. It’s all in the cutie mark.” When that was met with a blank stare, he asked, “You don’t know about cutie marks, do you?”

Logan shook his head. “Not a clue.”

“Well, I’m not going to drop trou or anything, but…at a certain point in our lives, we find out what our special talent is, that one skill that makes us shine above and beyond what anypony else can do, and that is signified by a symbol or symbols on our flanks called a cutie mark. I’m told it’s like a tattoo, but the difference is it forms on our coats naturally. Now, some cutie marks are fairly clear as to what they mean: for example, my college buddy, Callery Pear, comes from a pear farmer family and his cutie mark is a pair – pun intended – of pear halves; he’s a cider and perry sommelier by trade. And then you have one like mine: an F-clef over a record. Not as clear, right? So guess what it means.”

“That…you’re really into old-fashioned vinyl albums?”

The stallion grinned. “Close – it means I have perfect pitch. Let me hear your playset tonight before we go on and I guarantee, I’ll get it perfect. Better than perfect, even.”

“You think so, huh?”

Dusty offered a hoof. “If I’m wrong, I’m paying for the beers tonight. If you’re wrong, well…I like Guinness Extra Reserve, just sayin’.”

Logan grinned; the guy was confident, if nothing else. He took the stallion’s hoof, shaking. “You’re on.”

Later that night, Dusty was enjoying a beer in his favorite bar. “Ah, nothing like Guinness to salute a victorious soul.”

“And here’s two more beers for you, gentlemen,” the bartender said as she set the beers down in front of the two patrons. “Stone IPA for the gent and Guinness Extra for you, Dusty.”

He flashed the woman a grin. “Moira, don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Nothing of the sort, y’ radgy git,” she said, playfully. “I’m a married woman, I am. Now, back to the counter I go.”

As she walked off, Logan eyed her shrinking form appreciatively. “She’s a cutie.”

“She’s off-limits, Logan,” Dusty said. “First woman to be married to a stallion. Yeah, not as common as mares marrying men, and probably won’t be for a number of reasons.” He finished off his current mug then went for the other. “So, you seemed surprised that I was able to make the tunes sound so sweet.”

“Dude, I’ve been personally tuning the songs – by computer, not manually like you – and I have never heard them sound so beautiful before. You earned those brews. What you did with the soundboard is nothing less than sheer magic.”

Dusty wiggled his ears, saying, “All in the ears. I mean, it came in handy when I learned to play a few musical instruments, but without my special talent being instruments, I’m really not good enough to be a musician for a living. Fortunately, I loved music enough anyway to keep at it, so much so that I learned how to tune a guitar by ear. And when I corrected somepony else whose tone was off, that’s when I got my mark.”

“Sounds weird. My friend DJ told me once about them, but her description was far different from what you said. Hers made it sound like a sort of slavery. Then again, she’s been through a lot of crap, so I really can’t blame her for that.”

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly expect a human to understand it, since we ponies barely understand it ourselves. Maybe your friend heard it somewhere on TV or something?”

“Not really. They probably told her when she came here for…personal reasons and she misunderstood. DJ’s good at that,” he said. “All in all, though, she’s a great friend. Known her since childhood and her husband almost as long. They’re good people.”

“So, where you from?”

“Originally, Richmond, in Virginia. But when I was about ten or so, we moved upstate to a small town called Winchester, where I met all my friends. Went to college at UCLA in La-la-land, got a job at the Mighty Met, and haven’t looked back since. What about you?”

“Well, nothing much, really. Grew up in Seaddle, attended Western Equestria University on a musical technician scholarship, then when I escaped with my bachelor’s last year, got offered a job as an engineering intern at HPGF as the engineer for Sweet Strings and her morning classical show. But she got wooed away by HCLS in Manehattan because they got a computer system, so the boss has been trying to figure out what to do with me since.”

“So how’d you, ah, humanize, if you don’t mind me asking?”

He grinned. “Oh, not at all! Well, I remember one year this one guy from the 2034 FiMPro was playing a bunch of reggae classics. He and I got to talk a lot and he got me hooked on reggae – Marley, Peter Tosh, Slightly Stoopid, UB40, Long Beach Dub Allstars, Mana’o Company and all that. So, based on that, I took a summer to take a trip to human-Earth. Man, was it an eye-opener! I fell in love with the place and culture, and when I got back, I joined the local Hooves and Hands club – it’s a club that espouses human culture here in Equestria. One thing led to another, and…well, here I am.

“But bear in mind not everyone likes the fact that I’m humanized. I mean, yeah, Lovely puts up with it, but my parents hate it, and personally, I think the boss has it down on me because I self-humanized. I suspect he’s a Purehoofer, but that’s just my guess.”

“Purehoofer?”

“How do I explain this?” Dusty said. “Well, best way to call a hobble is a hobble. They’re speciest jerks who think that it’s the divine will of Holy Celestia and Sacred Luna – and for the record, neither of them actually care for those terms even if they’re our goddesses – to kick out all ‘uncleans’ of non-pony blood and to seal the borders forever. Really weird stuff, but that’s what they believe.”

“Yeah, you’re always going to run into extremists. God knows we’ve got so many of them on my Earth, it’s not even funny. But, hey, that’s why I got into the world music business in the first place. If everyone understood we all groove to the same music everywhere, we’d be better off: humans, ponies, and the others, y’know?”

“No kidding, I hear you there. But anyway, I know the boss has got it in for me, but I’m fine with who I am and strive to be the best I can be. Like Bob Marley said, ‘I don’t have prejudice against myself.’”

“Well, here’s to that,” Logan toasted, and the two clinked their beers.

Over the course of weeks, the two became fast friends and very inseparable. Dusty was completely floored when he realized that Logan had grown up with none other than the Lost Foal herself. It culminated in a call that Logan made to DJ one day while they were at the bar and the three of them talked forever and a day, sharing stories and anecdotes. It was also during that time that Dusty introduced Logan to his significant other.

“Hey, Logan, I’d like you to meet my special mare. Logan, this is Lovestruck. Lovely, this is Logan.”

Logan offered a hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Lovestruck.”

“A pleasure as well,” the mare said, offering her own hoof. She was a mare with a pure white coat and a hot pink mane-and tail, both of those colors bringing out her brilliant green eyes. Her cutie mark was that of cupid’s bow and arrow, or rather as Equestrianis called it, the Love Arrow, a mythical bow and arrow infused with the power of a love potion. She was very cute, bright and bubbly, but unlike her coltfriend she wasn’t into the “humanize” fad, but she loved him enough to humor him. Under any other circumstance, Logan would consider asking her out, but stepping on a friend’s tail wasn’t his style.

“So, what do you do for a living, Lovestruck?”

“Well, my special talent’s alchemy, specifically love potions and aphrodisiacs,” she said, blushing slightly. “Unfortunately,” she sighed, “since those kinds of potions are prohibited under Crown law, I spend most of my time working as the Archmagus’ secretary. Don’t get me wrong: Twilight Sparkle’s a great boss, but I’d rather be doing my job as an alchemist rather than firing off emails, you know?”

“Yeha, I can hear you on that one. When I first was doing the DJ scene, I got stuck over at KKGO. The kind of music I listen to and I’m working a country & western station? Not good at all. Fortunately, they didn’t hire me on when I graduated but KMET did.”

“That’s good to hear. I know Dusty’s wanted his own show for the longest time.” The pegasus’ eyes went wide at his fillyfriend’s revelation, and he nearly spat out his drink.

“Well, tell ya what, Dusty: I was planning on playing nothing but reggae for this week’s show, but…why don’t you do the honors? I’ll let you pick out the sets, you can go on air, the works.”

“You mean that?”

“Oh, absolutely. But if you screw up, you are so paying for the brews that night.”

Dusty grinned madly; it was the opportunity of a lifetime. “Deal!”

“And that’s our show for tonight, folks. Tune in next week when we bring you the greatest grooves from both globes here on The Outernational Incident.” Without having to wait for a signal, Dusty switched over to the cutaway music that would play for the next few minutes until the next DJ came on.

“Hey, Dusty, ‘nother great job!” Logan said. He’d enjoyed the three months of working with Dusty, and with his time in the FiMPro coming to a close at the end of the month and his return to LA, an idea had come to him. He talked it over with his boss in LA and if they could get a work visa for the pegasus, they could slot him in as the weekend DJ over at sister station KRTH as a start. Logan had grown tired of seeing Fuzzy Warbles constantly betrate his friend, and frankly if Dusty wasn’t appreciated here, there was certainly room for a talent like him in the airwaves of Southern California, and Logan would happily see to that.

“Thanks, Logan,” the pegasus said as he slipped off his headphones, starting to clean up his station and putting everything in Booth A to passive so the folks taking over in Booth B could start their show with no problem. But as he starting changing the deck over to passive, he winced, his “hands” going to his head.

Logan noticed immediately. “Hey man, you okay?”

“Yeah, just a slight headache. I’ve got a healing charm in my desk; I can use that to get rid of it after I’m done.”

“Excellent. So, we on for tonight?”

Dusty shrugged. “Sorry, man, but Lovely wants to see a film tonight, and I promised her.”

“Well, them’s the breaks. Guess I’ll just have to drink the pub dry of all your beers,” the human laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Oh, I’ve got a few more things to finish up here. Do me a favor and meet Lovely down in the lobby for me, will you?”

“Sure. Just don’t take too long, loverboy,” Logan said as he stepped out the door of Booth A.

Lovestruck gushed as Logan outlined his plan for Dusty; she’d figured out something was up weeks ago, but she knew Logan wouldn’t steer her coltfriend wrong. “Oh, Logan, that’s just wonderful! Thank you; that will make Dusty so happy!”

“Don’t thank me, Lovestruck. He earned it. I see the way Fuzzy Warbles treats him, and my general manager, Wu—”

“Wu?”

“Chinese name; his full name’s Wu Kee Won, but he just goes by Wu. Anyway, Wu says he’ll get him the weekend slot at K-Earth and then on the weekdays, he can have the senior sound engineer slot there. Oh, and before I forget….” Logan reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, handing it to Lovestruck.

She took it in her telekinesis, wrapping it in a field of soft red as she read it. A look of surprise came over her face and she looked at the human in shock. “You…is this real?”

He nodded. “Dusty loves you, and he’s told me several times he’s thought about popping the question. But he can’t do that if he’s there and you’re here, so…I have a friend, biochem professor at UCLA, and he works part-time at a private school in Santa Monica. He told me there’s an opening for a full-time chemistry teacher there at the school, and since you’re a Guild-trained alchemist, you probably know quite a bit about chemistry as well. And, to be honest, it’s far easier to get a work visa for a teacher than it is for a sound engineer, so….”

She leapt up, hugging him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I’m sure Twilight will miss having me as her secretary, but she won’t complain once I tell her! This is just great, Logan! I can’t thank you eno—”

Lovestruck’s words were cut off as the doors to the station were slammed open and several paramedic unicorns raced into the building. One of them stopped in front of them long enough to demand, “Where’s the broadcast booths?”

“Third floor, round the corner and down the hall. First door is Booth A, second’s Booth B.”

“Okay, life’s on the line folks!” the paramedic shouted. “Let’s move, move, move!” With the elevator taking too long, the unicorns thundered up the stairs, racing towards their destination.

“Something’s wrong,” Logan said. “You stay here, I’ll head up.” He turned, only to run into Slow Jams, the overnight DJ. The look on her face was one of utter shock.

“We’ve gotta get going. Canterlot General,” she said, still somewhat shaken.

“What’s wrong, Slow?”

“It’s Dusty,” the deep blue earth pony told Logan and Lovestruck in turn. “I’m so sorry, Lovestruck, so sorry.”

Alarms went off in the unicorn’s mind. “What happened?”

“Dusty…he started having convulsions…. They’re teleporting him directly to trauma care, so we have to go!”

The smell of antisceptic chemicals was something very familiar to Logan. He’d smelled it plenty of times when he was as Special Guest DJ at a nightclub session or whatever. He knew the scent because that’s usually what masked the vomit, sweat and other smells in the clubs. He really didn’t care much for that smell; in fact, his home pretty much smelled like violets and vanilla, something that a prior girlfriend had done, and scents he much preferred as opposed to isopropyl and other disinfectants.

But that didn’t matter right now. What mattered right now was that Dusty was lying on the bed in an intensive care ward, dying. The doctor had jarring information for both Logan and Lovestruck: Dusty suffered from a genetic birth defect called a “unicorn’s curse.” What it was, simply was that during the time he spent forming in his mother’s womb, Dusty was either going to be born as a unicorn or a pegasus. His body, for the most part, developed along pegasus lines, but his head had different ideas. Setting in place an area for a horn without actually having one, his body’s magic tended to course to that spot on his head, causing migraine headaches. But even as it was doing that, it was also creating a tumor within his skull. The tumor had grown big enough now that it was putting extreme pressure on his brain, and had grown too big for Dusty to have it removed surgically. In short, things weren’t looking up for him and the chances of survival were thin to say the least.

What made the whole thing worse was that even as bad as the tumor was, by human standards, it could still be removed. But even twelve years after first contact, Equestria didn’t have that kind of medical technology yet and humanity’s own medical techniques were still filtering over. If they’d caught it sooner, a pace like Johns Hopkins or Cedar-Sinai could have taken care of it in a heartbeat with a total chance of recovery. But this stage in the game, it was too late; the doctor regrettably told both Logan and Lovestruck that it had been nothing less than a miracle that he’d survived the seizure. But that had done terminal damage, and every second more he lived was well into borrowed time.

At Logan’s side, the unicorn fought away tears. She loved him too much to have him see her like this; she’d keep a straight face and a calm heart, even as her mind was roiling and her very emotions threatened to betray the stoic look on her face. He saw that and knew it wasn’t doing her any favors. “Lovestruck…don’t bother with the brave face. You’re allowed to break down,” he said, putting an arm around the distraught mare.

She leaned into his shoulder. “How could this happen? It’s so rare, almost unheard of, and they could have taken care of it if they just found it sooner!” she moaned. “I don’t want to lose him, Logan! I’ll be lost without him!” Logan said nothing; what could he say without sounding foolishly optimistic or lying?

“Please come back,” she whispered, completely breaking down.

Eventually, she cried enough that exhaustion took over and mercifully put her into unconsciousness. It was that time that Logan somehow knew his friend was awake. “She’s out like a light, Dusty.”

“Good,” he said in a barely audible rasp. “Hate seeing her like this.” His voice was so devoid of volume Logan had to sidle up to the bed in order to hear his friend.

“Well, you’re going to get out of this, Dusty. Just be here a while and then right as ra—”

“Don’t lie; it doesn’t suit you,” the stallion said weakly. “I heard what the doctors told you. Plus, somehow, I always knew. I’ve had headaches all my life, but I always thought it was just migraines. Now I know better.”

“Dude, you had better get better. She needs you. Plus, well….” With that, Logan spilled everything about his plans for the two of them, the jobs he’d lined up and even asked DJ herself to see if she could swing up to LA from her home in San Diego one weekend to do some apartment hunting for them near the station.

“Thanks, Logan, but you know as well as I that I’m not going to see that day. But I want you to promise me something, and I mean it. I want you to get her out of here. She needs to leave Equestria.”

“Not without y—”

Dusty struggled to sit up. “No. She needs to. She’s suffering and stagnating in her job, and it’s tearing her apart. It’s the kind of job that no matter where she goes, she’s going to be stigmatized by her cutie mark, and if she can’t ever use her special talent? Well, she’s already seeing a counselor for a couple of CMFIS incidents. And no, I’m not going to tell you what that means; you’ll have to ask the doctor.” He coughed slightly, looking weak and sallow as though his life was rushing out of him. “Promise me you’ll get her out of here. Make sure she gets that life she deserves, Logan.”

“What, you asking me to marry your fillyfriend? Are you nuts? She’s not even my typ…well, she is, to be honest but I don’t screw friends over – metaphorically or literally.”

“No, I’m not saying that – I’m not in charge of her heart anymore. But what I’m asking you is to be the friend for her that she’ll need soon. If not, she’ll go mad, and I’d give up my humanization before I ever let her go through that.” The look in his eyes was one of complete and total determination. “Please, Logan. There’s no one else I can ask but you.”

At that point, a nurse poked her head into the room. “Visiting time’s over in ten minutes, folks.”

“I will,” he vowed to his friend. In turn, Dusty nodded his head.

“Well, I guess that’s it,” Logan said as he rose from his seat. “Lovestruck and I will be by tomorrow, cool?”

“That’d be awesome, thanks,” Dusty replied, but the look in his eyes said what his mouth would not: I won’t be here tomorrow and you know it.

Logan nodded ever so slightly, a silent goodbye to his friend. He then turned to Lovestruck, waking her up and telling her it was time to leave. In turn, she rushed over to her coltfriend’s side, stroking his mane and kissing him repeatedly. “Get well soon, my love. I need you – you’re my best friend and the love of my life and I can’t live without you,” she whispered, voice quavering and tears soaking the fur near her eyes, as her words soon gave way to another round of broken sobbing.

“Please, Logan, remember what I said,” Dusty told him. “She’s taking it hard.”

“I got this,” Logan promised, pulling the mare back to all fours reluctantly. Knowing it was the last time he’d ever see his friend, he gave him a grin and said, “See you later, Dusty.”

“Yeah.” The smile on the pegasus’ face was beatific. “See you on the flipside, my friend.”

A rain-soaked, dreary day, Logan noted. Perfect day for a funeral. While he knew the weather in Alter-Earth was magically controlled – a couple of weeks after the pair met, Dusty had fixed Logan up with his meteorologist cousin Cloud Kicker; she was nice though she seemed to have sex on the brain – the rain had been scheduled for some time now and they couldn’t postpone it, not even for a funeral. One of the various differences between a funeral here and one back home.

As Logan watched the traditional Equestriani funeral and wake, he noted that save for who was invoked – Luna, in this case, as goddess of the night – and some other bits here and there, such as the weather, in the end the majority of the funeral ceremony remained the same: the same loss, the same sorrow, the same pain, the same hope that their loved ones would be reunited in the afterlife. Also, the same black clothing – as a formal event, it was one of the few cases where ponies wore clothing.

And the procession of ponies came: those who gave their condolences to Dusty’s parents and siblings, to close friends, and last but not least, to Lovestruck. Being at Lovestruck’s side for moral support, Logan just thought of how cosmically unfair this all was; even the sky itself, though symbolically, was crying over the loss of his friend. How could anyone have missed it for years? How had it not harmed him before? None of it made any sense; death never did, really, but especially this time.

The pair continued to stand there, Logan in a suit and Lovestruck, wearing a simple black dress, as each of the attendants said their condolences as Logan held the umbrella for the two of them. Finally the crowds thinned and in the end, it was just the two of them, watching as the earth ponies started to bury the casket.

“You ready to go?” Logan said gently. If she wasn’t, he’d wait as long as she wanted.

“I’m not sleeping with you, you know that.” The words came out of Lovestruck’s mouth bitterly. “I know you’re attracted to me, Logan, but I just buried the stallion I love, so, to use a human term, go fuck off.”

“Lovestruck, you’re a friend of mine – and that never entered my mind.”

“I know he told you to take care of me, like I’m some kind of fragile object.” She looked at him, and he could see that her words weren’t meant in malice – she was afraid.

“You’re afraid of living without him, aren’t you?” he asked. She nodded. “He asked me to take care of you, yes, but my thoughts were to have you take that job in SanMo and start anew. And I’ll take care of you. We’re friends. I won’t let you down. But in no case did that ever mean I was planning to sleep with you. Hell, I turned down Cloud Kicker, for Christ’s sake!”

“You did?” she said with some surprise. He nodded. “Wow, nobody’s turned her down before. Look…I’m sorry for accusing you, then. It’s just…I just miss him so much,” she sobbed, hopping to her forelegs and embracing Logan, crying into his shoulder, soaking it in an instant. Logan held her tightly, letting her cry her heart out.

Several minutes later, he asked, “So, do you want what he wanted? Or does being a secretary suit you?”

She sniffed, wiping the tears from her eyes. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“So was he. Moving to another country isn’t exactly the easiest of things, you know – especially when it’s on another Earth filled with an entirely different species. In the end, though, it’s all up to you.”

She gave him a teary smile, but this time, it was one of trust. “So, what’s my part of the rent going to be?”

With Slow Jams doing the sound engineering for him, Logan spoke the final words of his broadcasting career in Equestria: “And I’d like to thank all of my listeners here in Canterlot for keeping me company during these last three months of the FiMPro. Wax Spinner will be back in his usual slot starting Monday and for those of you who visit LA, you can catch me from 2 – 6 weekday afternoons and on The Outernational Incident, which I’m glad to say will still be simulcast between LA and Canterlot.”

The next part was the hardest for him to say. “And for my last song, this goes out to a stallion I met here while on my tour, someone who tragically passed away last week. Dusty Grooves was one hell of an engineer and one hell of a friend, and I’ll be poorer for his loss – and you’ll all be poorer for missing out on one of the great unknowns in deejaying. So with that in mind, my last song’s a dedication to my friend Dusty. See you on the flipside, amigo – for you, here’s Bob Marley’s ‘Redemption Song.’”

The voice of the venerable reggae singer filled the speakers of listeners throughout Canterlot.

“Old pirates, yes, they rob I,
Sold I to the merchant ships,
Minutes after they took I
From the bottomless pit.

“But my hand was made strong
By the ‘and of the Almighty
We forward in this generation
Triumphantly.

“Won’t you help to sing
This songs of freedom
‘Cause all I ever have –
Redemption songs,
Redemption songs.”

Logan signaled to Slow to cue off the internal feed. He took off his headphones, and with that, things were done. “Thanks for all your help, Slow.”

She smiled wistfully. “Gonna suck not having you around, Logan. Gonna suck more without having Dusty here. He was the best of us.”

“Yes,” Logan said, just as sad. “Yes, he was.”

“And I’m going to miss the ratings you brought my station!” Fuzzy Warbles brought his rotund self into the broadcast booth. “Too bad it costs too much to have you humans around. You guys are good, but rough around the edges – just like that skingraft of a pegasus.”

Slow Jams gasped. Logan, however, was a little more forward. Punching as hard as he could, he hit Fuzzy Warbles across the face. The unicorn, not prepared for an attack, went down in an instant.

“You are a selfish, greedy speciest motherfucker, and I’m glad Dusty doesn’t have to put up with another one of your harassing tirades,” the human snarled. “By the way, you’ll be interested to know that I filed a complaint with the FiMPro Office and the Crown Telecommunications Agency. They’ll be looking into the charge that you’ve been discriminating against your employees. I’d say have a nice life…but I hope you don’t.” Hand stinging but feeling triumphant, he walked out of the booth, leaving an unconscious unicorn and a cheering colleague behind.

A few weeks later, he was at his home in Montebello, California, a short drive on Interstate 10 from the station. At the moment, Logan was pulling boxes from a moving van, stacking them around the house. “Mike, thanks for coming up to help me with all this. I owe you.”

Mike Hengst grinned. “Yes, because the thing I wanted to do most the first weekend back after being deployed for six months is help one of my friends move his girlfriend into his house,” he laughed.

“Dude, she’s not my girlfriend; she’s my roommate. Lovestruck will be living here for a little bit until she can find an apartment in Santa Monica so she can be closer to her job.”

“Oh, please!” Carrying a heavy dresser entirely by herself as if it were weightless, DJ teased her old friend. “Logan, you forget that we’ve known you for years. She’s got girlfriend material written all over her! Trust me. By this time next year, you’ll be asking for Valerie’s phone number so she can cater the wedding.”

“DJ, that’s not funny,” Logan sniffed. “She just buried her boyfriend a month ago. They were going to be living with me for a spell until they got their bearings here – and she kept going because he would have wanted her to.”

The look on DJ’s eyes was now one of embarrassment. “Fuck. Sorry, dude. I didn’t know. Just thought she was some babe you hooked up with in Canterlot.”

Mike nodded. “Yeah. Seriously, though, you going to be fine being roomies with a living chocolate factory?” DJ gave her husband a mock-furious stare; he ignored it. “And no, unlike my speaks-before-thinking but loving wife, I mean, will you be able to help her? It’s going to probably be a very hard time for her, and you might have to deal with her heart rebounding – hell, her name is Lovestruck, for crying out loud.”

“I’ll do what I can for her. She needs this time to start anew,” he told his friends. “Besides, I consider her off-limits. That might change in the future, but I don’t plan on it. Dusty was a good friend and I’d be a total dick if I started putting the moves on his very vulnerable gal just after everything that’s occurred.” He leaned against the garage door, adding, “Plus, I can count on you two, since you only live just on the other end of the 5, right?”

Before anyone could say anything further, a cute female voice said, “Hey, I brought some drinks.” Lovestruck came walking out of the house. She was upright now, wearing a black t-shirt and blue jeans. She looked comfortable in them and looked very good.

“Yup, I give it six months,” DJ whispered to Mike. “Nine, tops.” Mike gave her an annoyed look, and she looked back at him, confused. “Jeez, what’d I say?”

“Nevermind, hon,” Mike drolled, rolling his eyes.

Lovestruck passed out the cans of soda to everyone, floating them with her magic over to each person. “DJ, Mike, thank you both for helping me move in. I very much appreciate it. I only hope I can prove myself worthy of the life that Dusty wanted for us.”

Logan put a friendly arm around her, saying, “You will. Trust me, you will.” To his surprise – and somewhat worry – she leaned into his embrace, a comforted, and possibly content, look coming on her face.

“Man, too quiet.” DJ went over to the radio Logan had in the garage and turned it on; it was set to his station anyway. To the surprise of both Logan and Lovestruck, the last refrain of a particular stallion’s favorite song played:

“‘Cause all I ever have –
Redemption songs,
Redemption songs.”

The group was deathly quiet for a moment, unsure of what to say; both Mike and DJ could see the uncomfortable and disquiet look on the other two. Finally, Lovestruck smiled, a tear of joy welling in her eye, and she took the can in her hoofspace, raising it in a toast to the stallion she loved. “To the future.” Everyone toasted the same, and as the four talked, Lovestruck looked at Logan. She regretted having said what she did to him. It was clear he cared about her – not love, at least not in the romantic sense. And that, for now, was what she needed for the moment, for her own little redemption song.

The Ballad of Bob, Part One

Another dreary day, Gunther Greatheights sighed to himself as he had dinner with his parents. Even though he was an adult with his own place in Redmond, he still joined his parents over in Oak Harbor every Saturday for dinner. Tonight it was chicken divan. His mother was a wonderful cook, and yet it always seemed that every time he was home to eat dinner, the food was always bland.

“So, anything wild going on in your life, son?” Gunther’s father Guido asked, bringing a fork to his beak. Bigger and burlier than most males of his species, Guido owned an auto shop that let the older gryphon work on cars to his heart’s content. “Have you had a chance to ask that lovely little gryphoness in your office out?”

Gunther sighed again. “No, Dad – I’m not Giselle’s type. Besides, I think she’s got a boyfriend who works over at Nintendo.” He took a bite of his food, then continued. “See, it’s the guys in the gaming industry that’re getting all the chicks. Those of us trusty programmers? We don’t get so lucky.”

Gunther’s mother Gertrude gave her son an understanding smile – which meant she probably didn’t understand a single thing. “She’ll appreciate you, son. After all, you’ve got a wonderful job over at Microsoft. Project Manager for Pixelsense 2045, son – that’s not some run-of-the-mill job.”

“Mom, it’s not exactly the most exciting job there is. I mean, what, we take the current Windows interface and plug it into Samsung or Dalek-Ix touchscreens. I think a trained chimpanzee could do this stuff. But Trevor? He’s working on Halo 11. And Max? He’s working on the new volumetric interfaces for Windows 16. Now that’s some awesome stuff. Maybe if I was working on Halo 11, that’d get Giselle’s attention.”

“Son, someday she’ll understand. All it takes is time,” Guido said, encouragingly. “After all, you’re reliable and dependable – what gryphoness wouldn’t want that in a mate?”

“The ones who think I’m boring,” he answered.

“You’re not boring, son,” Gertrude pointed out. “You’re a vital and brilliant young mind. A practical rebel, just like your father and I used to be.”

“A rebel?” Gunther tried hard not to laugh at his mother’s ridiculous statement. “Mom, you haven’t done a single rebellious thing since the day I was hatched!”

“That’s because your father and I sowed our wild oats when we were younger,” Gertrude admitted with some slight embarrassment, the feathers on her face flushing slightly.

“Like what?”

“Well….” She looked to her husband for agreement; he took her claw in his and nodded encouragingly. “Well, I wouldn’t tell you this unless you weren’t a grown gryphon already son, so bear that in mind.”

Gunther looked at his parents oddly. Mom and Dad, rebels? His mind suddenly pictured his father as a Hell’s Angel and his mother as a biker chick, something absolutely impossible since they grew up in Grifonica and in fact, hadn’t emigrated to the US until Gunther was seven years old. Even still, I’m guessing there was some kind of rebel culture in Grifonica, right?

“Well…sometimes…” she said, hesitantly, then decided to dive in. “When I was a teenager, I used to write my name in school with a heart over the I in my name instead of the dot. But your father, he was even more daring: he didn’t even dot the I in his name at all!”

Gunther’s eyes narrowed, trying hard not to facepalm. “Wow, you two were a couple of wild and crazy kids just out of control, weren’t you?” he drolled.

“Yes, son, but you see why we had to give it up,” his father noted. “We wanted you to have a good life, a bountiful life, which is why we left Grifonica for America. I suppose in itself that too is rebellious, but that is a small price to pay for seeing our son as successful.”

Gunther grinned, but his heart wasn’t in it. He knew his parents loved him and his kid sister Guinevere and only wanted the best for them. But…he wanted more out of life. It didn’t matter if he was the project lead at a prestigious company like Microsoft, if that meant that he was a sallow ignored fly on the wall every time dear, sweet beautiful Giselle walked through the campus. He couldn’t count the number of times he found himself over by the hardware design studio just so he could see his beloved artist and her incredible talents at creating prototypes for new hardware. She was a sculptor of no small talent and indeed, he knew she was the influential designer behind the new holographic keyboard emitters – he knew her subtle yet exquisite touches. But she only knew him as just the other gryphon who worked there, nothing big.

He sighed; things couldn’t get worse than this.

“Okay, so let’s get this party started!” his mother said, pulling out a box. “Now, how about a rousing game of Chutes and Ladders?”

On second thought…maybe it could.

As usual for the Pacific Northwest, it looked like it was on the verge of raining, so instead of flying from his apartment to work, Gunther got in his car and decided to drive over. His rarely-used car, a SEAT Leon Cupra, nimbly managed to get him from his apartment to the Microsoft campus. After his car was scanned through the employee gate, he parked over by Building 6, where he worked.

As he got out, he was met by one of his best friends, Trevor Girabaldi. He and Trevor were college buddies from MIT and both were lucky enough to land jobs at the Big M, and briefly shared an apartment together before Trevor shacked up with his girlfriend. Still, though, they were the closest of friends and always pulled each other out of jams. “Gunther! Dude, toldja, should’ve come over my place. All the bros and babes were there for the weekend Halo Frag-a-Thon! Coulda hooked you up with this cute little gryphoness from Bioware who came down with some friends in Van-Can – we challenged her to a deathmatch and she stomped the hell out of u…on second thought, maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t come.”

Gunther grinned, or as much as was possible to with a beak. “Dude, you know me.”

“Yeah, and spending every Saturday at your parents’ place and every Sunday in your garden isn’t exactly doing wonders for your social life, man! I swear, Gunther, you gotta get out more!” Trevor got out of the way as a familiar Hummer H1 pulled into two parking spaces. “You keep up what you’re doing man, you’re going to grow old, gray, alone and cranky!”

“He’s right, you know.” A six-foot minotaur tall exited the Hummer. Like all minotaurs, he was big and bulky. Unfortunately, that’s where his own similarities with his species ended. He was bulky and strong…for a human, not for a minotaur, where he would be scrawny. Due to a birth defect, his horns weren’t strong and proud, but shortly cropped on his head almost as if he were wearing them rather than them being a part of his skull. Due to his eyes, he wore eyeglasses, and last but not least, though he appeared to have a reddish-brown coat, anyone who truly knew him knew that was because he dyed his coat out of embarrassment; he was actually born with bright fuschia fur. Combining all that with his above-average intelligence and placed in a society where brawn was valued over brains, and it was clear to see why he moved to the US first chance he got. But such was the life of the minotaur named Maximum Strength, or as his friends called him…

“Heya, Max,” Gunther said, leaning against his car while Max walked towards them. “How’d you know what we were talking about?”

The minotaur rolled his eyes as if in mock-introspection. “Let’s see…it’s a Monday, Trev’s here giving you a ration of shit and, as usual, you’re taking it. Which tells me the subject is, once again, why you aren’t knockin’ paws with Giselle by now, and so unless he told you to go die in a fire, he’s probably correct in his assessment.”

“Well, what about you, big guy?” Trevor asked.

“Guiding Light and I are doing fine. She’s throwing hints that it’s time to pop the question.” Max’s dating situation was a little different: because of his relative weakness, he had no attraction for minotaur cows; due to dimorphism dating sapient cows was out of the question and it freaked him out when he realized that sapient cows did not fare well on this Earth due to their similar appearance to the unintelligent cattle cows here, actual animals who weren’t exactly dating material to begin with.

Fortunately, luck had come his way when he met Guiding Light, a pegasus pony that had been blinded in an accident; the finest medical care in Equestria couldn’t help her, but the University of Washington’s Medical Center had stepped in and after extensive surgery to replace almost all her bones including portions of the skull, she was undergoing physical therapy for the heavily-replaced bones in her legs, ribs, wings and parts of her skull. Max had been there to get his annual physical from his doctor when he came across the mare, just about to give up. Seeing the broken mare, he offered to help her train to get back on her hooves; when time came for her to head back to Equestria, she decided to stay, moving in with her boyfriend. Light, strangely enough, had a specialty with light refraction and as a result, despite her blindness was hired to be a technician over at the local laser tag arena.

“So, going over engagement bracelets?” Trevor said, elbowing the larger guy. “Of course, if you and Light get married, then…I know Tasha’s going to start hinting that it’s time for us to settle down and…dude, you have no idea what you’re doing to our lack of maturity, do you? I’m too young to have kids more mature than I’ll be!”

“Fuck you, you’re just jealous that I fragged your ass on TF5 last night,” Max said with a grin. “And before you ask, I think Light and Tasha are already talking, so you’d better start looking as well.”

As per the norm, Gunther’s two best friends chatted along, their usual banter nothing more than background chatter for him. His eyes had already started to focus on the Toyota Corolla parked one row over. It came to a gentle stop, and out of it stepped the most gorgeous creature that Gunther had ever had the honor to know. As always, his breath was taken away, his heart stopping with the purity of love most overwhelming. And how could he not? Dressed in a simple sweater and jeans, carrying a laptop back slung over her shoulder and gently resting on one golden brown wing, the beautiful gryphoness stepped away from her car, headed towards Building 7, where she worked. Her brown-and-gray headfeathers crested ever so-slightly, giving it the appearance of a tousled hairstyle. She had a sweet smile on her face, the kind of beatific smile that only gryphons knew amongst their kind, and she walked with the effortless grace of a dancer, taking time to wave to each person, human or otherwise, that she walked pass. Her voice called out her hellos in musical, hypnotic tones that made his being focus on her all that much more.

She was, quite simply, the goddess of his heart, and that deity had a name: Giselle Gracewings.

“He’s totally lost again,” Max said, watching Gunther’s daily ritual.

“P-whipped like you wouldn’t believe,” Trevor joked.

Somehow, it was Gunther’s turn, as she saw him out of the corner of her eye and waved. “Hi, Gunther!”

That seemed to break the spell as he approached her. “Oh, h-hi, Giselle. H-how’d your weekend go?”

She seemed to pout, her feathers ruffling. “Well,” she sighed, “I wanted to head up to Vancouver BC for the weekend, but Gavin wanted to stay home this weekend because he had tickets to the Mariners game on Saturday against New Orleans. I mean, I really don’t like baseball, but he insisted, so…. Anyway, I was so tired after all that mess that I just spent Sunday at home just watching the Arddun trilogy. I’d do anything to be like Princess Selene, if I could have a Chester to treat me just like that.”

“And here’s the part where he blows it as usual,” Trevor said.

“Aw, give him a break – I’m sure he’ll get it right this time,” Max assured his friend. In turn, Trevor just gave him a lidded glance, and Max replied, “Yeah, okay, so you’re right. But one day, just one day, maybe he will.”

“I doubt it.” Trevor crossed his arms and watched his pal with the sadness of someone watching a trainwreck happening over and over again.

“I’d treat you like Selene,” Gunther mumbled under his breath.

Giselle thought she heard something. “Uh, did you say something, Gunther?”

“I…um…I was just saying that, uh,” he stammered, scratching the back of his head nervously, “that I thought the series was keen! You know, cool and all that.”

“Wow, I didn’t know you were an Arddun fan. Usually only females like it; Gavin hates it when I watch it, but…well, a girl has to have her own things, you know? But I’m glad to know there aren’t some guys who are stereotypical jerks.”

She likes me! His chest nearly puffed with pride; only the panic of the situation was keeping him under control. No, wait, she likes the fact that I like that series. Note to self: actually watch the series.

“Well, I’ve got to get to my office. I’ll see you later, okay?” She waved gently as she walked off, her tail swishing in graceful, wave-like motions and he returned the gesture, not thinking about the fact that he was waving to her back or that he was completely mooning over her. But then, suddenly, she stopped then turned around, heading right back to him. “Oh, I completely forgot – I wanted to ask you something.”

“W-wh-what?”

“Um…” she said, blushing. “It’s kinda personal.”

“I-I’m all yours,” he said, then realizing that what he said could be construed as a come-on and he practically froze. In the distance, Max and Trevor watched with some pleased surprise, knowing she’d never turned back to talk to him before. Maybe it was time.

“Uh…what size is your shirt?”

Huh? “It’s…uh....GM. Gryphon medium. Why?”

“Well…I got Gavin a Sonics jersey for his birthday, but he wears a GXL. Since you’re the only gryphon I know, and I can’t return it, do you want it?”

Gunther seemed to deflate. In the distance, a man and a bull facepalmed. “I…uh, sure. I-I-I mean, I’m, er, well…I’m not the biggest football fan—”

“Basketball. The Sonics are basketball.”

“See? Not the biggest fan of basketball. But, sure, that’d be nice.”

Her face lit up in a gryphoness’ smile. “Okay. I’ve got it at my desk, and I’ll bring it by your office after lunch.”

Gunther grinned and gave her a thumb’s-up. “Sure, that’d be great, thanks.”

“Least I can do for such a nice friend. But I really gotta go or else my supervisor’ll kill me. I’ll see you later!” Now in a rush, she took to wing, flying over the crowd of employees heading towards the buildings, headed towards her own.

“Dude. Friend-zoned. Death sentence there. Man, I don’t even know what to say,” Trevor commented.

“Yeah. I don’t even know what I can say that’ll take away the pain,” Max said in sympathy.

Gunther could hear his heart practically shattering. Friend-zoned. Meanwhile, that bastard – how could he be anything else, since from her descriptions, he was clearly a boor – Gavin have such dominion over the lovely Giselle that she gave up so much for him? Had it been an arranged marriage? – those were still common in Grifonica, after all. Brainwashing? Or something even more insidious and sinister.

“Look, Gunther,” Trevor said, “beers are on me tonight, okay?”

“Yeah. We’re heading out tonight. Guy’s night out,” Max promised.

Gunther walked numbly towards his office, barely hearing his friends. His world had just fallen apart, his everything destroyed. He would grow old alone, while the gryphoness of his dreams would forever be trapped under the less-than-tender ministrations of that damnable Gavin; even more painful was the fact that she’d chosen Gavin willingly.

By the time he was at his desk, Gunther Greatheights was a broken gryphon.

“Dude, what is wrong with you?” Gunther’s supervisor asked.

“Look, Jason, I…I blew it. I’m sorry. My head wasn’t in the game,” Gunther apologized.

His supervisor, Jason O’Reilly, sighed. “Gunther, you were like shit in that presentation today. You’re lucky I know you better than that or else I’d have said that you didn’t impress me enough to save the deal with STR – and you’re lucky that this was just a practice run for the real meeting on the 25th. I don’t need to remind you how important that contract is: if STR decides to buy from Amiga instead of us, our partners will pull out of Pixelsense, the brass will cut the program and your job will be at risk. I’m sure you don’t want that.”

“Look, I’ve had a lot on my mind lately,” he began.

“I know you’ve been under a lot of stress lately. Hell, everyone does – it’s so blatantly obvious. It’s that gryphon chick you got the hots for over in Peripherals, right? Whatsername…Tabitha, or Tara or something like that. Or maybe it was Andrea. Ashleigh?”

“It’s Giselle,” he said, feeling the sweetness of that name on her breath.

“Ah, should’ve realized. A G name. Gryphon names always start with G. Why is that, anyway?”

“Well, it’s a cultural and religious thing, actually. You see, according to the Guide, the Great Galactic Gryphon reaches out to us in death and carries our souls to the Grand Garden, where we have an afterlife of peace. But we have to follow the laws of the Guide, and the first one is always have—”

“A name that starts with G, I’m guessing. So you’re telling me there’s not a single gryphon in existence whose name doesn’t start with a G?”

“Well, there’s, uh, Gustav LeGrande, but I think his is a stage name. And Gregory DiGrotto, but his is a stage name, too.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, buddy, but if you want to know the truth…Gunther isn’t that good of a name. I know that for some weird reason, gryphons and humans tend to have similar names, but lemme tell ya: Gunther isn’t even remotely a decent name amongst humans.” He paused for a second and then asked, “Have you ever given thought to changing it?”

“Changing it? How could I? I mean…”

“Well, you just said that there’s two examples of gryphons that changed their names, right? Besides, changing your name is no big deal. People do it all the time. Hell, I did it, even!”

“You did?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t born with the name Jason. My parents were stoner hippies down in Oregon. I was actually born with the first name Baba, as in the name of that old song by The Who. But first thing I did when I was eighteen was to march right into the courthouse and change my name. Sure, my parents think Baba is a better name than Jason, but then again, they also think that patchouli is what every house should smell like.”

“Wow, I didn’t even know.”

“And see? That’s the thing.” Jason put his arm over Gunther’s shoulders and as both males looked in the same direction, the human gestured grandly. “What about…Gary Greatheights? Or Gerry Greatheights? Or you could go for broke: Eric Greatheights.”

“Eric?” Gunther said the name over and over again, liking the sound on his mouth. “I like it.”

“Then tell you what: at the end of the day, take a couple of weeks off to think about it – really think about it – and pick your fate. Maybe it’ll be just enough to make that girl of yours go gaga. After all, what sounds better: Gunther…or Eric?”

It was as if the downfeathers had been removed from his eyes. He saw reality for the first time, and he saw hope.

“And I’m gonna do it,” Gunther told his friends over brews. “Gonna get it done. No more Mister geeky Gunther!”

“Dude, that’s just wild,” Trevor told him. “Personally, I like Trevor, so I’d never do that, but you, man, you got it going places. Salud!” He toasted his friend and three beer mugs clinked together as the trio celebrated Gunther’s big change.

“Have you given any thought to a name?” Max asked.

“Well, not really,” Gunther said, “but I’m going to do it, no matter what. I’ll just have to—” He was suddenly cut off by someone programming a song into the jukebox; the sound system, set a little too high, blasted a classic song at maximum volume for everyone present to hear:

“Show me how you do that trick
The one that makes me scream,” she said
“The one that makes me laugh,” she said
And threw her arms around my neck
“Show me how you do it
And I promise you, I promise that
I'll run away with you,
I'll run away with you”

“Man, let’s take this to the patio outside. Song’s hurting my ears,” Max commented, wincing as his hearing was hit by the music full bore.

“Yeah,” Trevor had to shout in order for his friends to hear him. The three made their way outside of the bar and to the external patio, where Trevor laughed. “You know, my mom listened to The Cure when she was our age. She always said Robert Smith could belt them out, but I don’t quite think she quite meant that way.”

Gunther, whose ears were probably better since he didn’t have pinnae to amplify the sound, asked, “Who?”

“No, not The Who, The Cure,” Trevor shouted back. “Robert Smith was the lead singer. Read about him once. Really, really weird guy, but hey, so are all rock stars, right?”

Gunther didn’t hear much of the statement, just the name ringing in his mind:

…Robert Smith…
…Robert Smith…
…Robert Smith…
…Robert Smith…

Dazed, Gunther looked up, and saw as a shooting star crossed the sky. He knew what they really were: just pieces of space rock burning up in the atmosphere, but gryphon legend said that a shooting star was really the Great Galactic Gryphon, blessed be His name, dragging a claw across the firmament of the sky to signal approval for a great deed to come.

No, could it? As if in response, another shooting star went by; this one brighter as if a command delivered from His Clawed Greatness himself.

“Hey, Gunther, you okay? You look a little spacy,” Max asked.

Gunther shook his head eagerly. “Like you wouldn’t believe, guys, like you wouldn’t believe. Salud!” he said, downing the near-full stein of beer in once shot. “Let’s have another round, guys!”

Max and Trevor looked at their friend in surprise: Gunther never chugged, and he was a lightweight when it came to drinking, a single stein would last him the whole night, normally. “Sure,” Trevor said, waving for one of the waiters, knowing something had just happened, but not sure what it was. “Next round is on!”

The court clerk looked at him as if he were mad. “Um…I’m not going to say this is illegal or anything, but…are you sure?”

Gunther nearly gave her a predatory stare; he was never surer of anything in his life. “Yes. That’s what I want. Legal name change.”

“Look, gryphons don’t change names,” she said. “Even when they get married, it’s not like humans, where the wife sometimes takes the husband’s surname. Gryphons don’t change names at all. It’s just how things are.” He continued to stare at her, and she finally gave up. “Okay, okay. Here: fill out Form 336A, then the bottom half of 513D. You’re lucky the judge handling name change cases is in today. Go to Courtroom Five and Judge Rivers will see you.”

Gunther was giddy in filling out the forms, his claw moving the pen over the paper like a madgryphon. Seconds counted; the judge might leave for the day or get tied up with one of a billion other things and he might miss his chance. He practically soared from his spot until a bailiff told him no flying was allowed in the courthouse. With that admonishment in mind, he walked as fast as he reasonably could over to Courtroom Five, on the other side of the building. Once there, he opened the door, expecting a pain-inducing wait for his case to come up.

Fortunately, that wasn’t going to be the case. Sitting in the room was a bored looking judge watching something on his tablet, the courtroom bailiff and court recorder both watching over his shoulders. “Man, it’s amazing how even after all these years South Park is still too crude to show the kids,” Judge Rivers said aloud with a chuckle

“Yeah,” the bailiff agreed before she broke out in a grin. “God, what kind of crack were the creators on? Mecha-Streisand?” A pause before she asked, “Uh, what’s a Streisand?”

“Supposedly some big singer from ages ago,” the court recorder told her. “My grandma listens to her stuff. Honestly? It sucks.”

Gunther, watching the whole thing, coughed politely to get their attention. The three looked up, but the judge didn’t turn off his tablet as his counterparts went back to their stations. “Can I help you?” he finally asked, ignoring the comments piping through the tablet’s speakers.

“Um…I’m here for a name change petition,” Gunther replied.

Rivers looked at him oddly. “Um…you’re a gryphon, right? Gryphons…they don’t change names. Humans, obviously; ponies, sometimes; once in a while a zebra. But out of all the species originally from Alter-Earth that I’ve come across….” The judge removed his glasses and looked at the figure before him. “Gryphons don’t change names.”

“This one is,” Gunther pointed a thumb back at himself with nervous energy. If the world sent legions of beings to counter him, he would prove himself worthy of being a gryphon…well, metaphorically, at least; he had no interest in being a true predator.

Rivers waved him to come closer. “Okay, let me see your paperwork.” Gunther approached and handed the human the forms. The judge put his glasses back on, read the forms and looked at Gunther again. “Are you sure about this, Mr. Greatheights?”

“As sure as I’ll ever be,” he answered.

“I must inform you that once you change your name, it will be difficult to change back. The State of Washington is one of the hardest states in the union to get your name changed in. Yes, I know people in California, Puerto Rico, and the Marianas Islands change their name frequently. But we’re not one of those states. Once you make the change, all your personal files – your driver’s license, your social security number, your general aviation license, everything – will be changed to the new name, and you will be required to keep using that name for a period of three years before you can even consider changing it back, understood?”

The gryphon nodded. “I understand, sir.”

“Then give me exactly one reason why I should approve this. You’re risking cultural embarrassment, young gryphon, and while you are legally entitled to do so, I am asking this on a personal level, just to make sure that you understand what you are getting into. Even for humans, names are something you don’t change lightly. We had this case about fifteen years ago, when I was just a public defender. Human woman, born of Somali descent, changed her name because she wanted to hide the fact that she was from that hellhole. She’d taken great care to obscure her origins: she dressed like an American even though she’d only been in the country for five years, and her English was so flawless I wanted to practically hire her to teach it to some of the slang-infested gangbangers I frequently had to defend. Well, she changed it and was happy as a lamb – right up until her parents killed her for ‘betraying her culture.’” Judge Rivers kneaded his hands together and said, “Now, as far as I know gryphons aren’t as violent, but what I do know is that they place a huge amount of importance on culture. You could be disowned by your family, treated as a pariah by every gryphon you know, even your wife, if you have one.”

That had never occurred to Gunther. What would Giselle think? Would she think of me as some human-faker? ‘Hey, look, there’s that wannabe human who likes me?’ He could practically see her kissing Gavin in front of him, laughing at the former-gryphon, forever doomed to be a pariah. His parents disowning him, his little sister Guinevere embarrassed to know him, his name struck from the history of gryphondom….

“Robaato Sumizu, Robaato Smumizu….” a sound suddenly came from the tablet. Judge Rivers suddenly realized he left the tablet on and put it on pause. “Sorry about that.” Coughing to clear his throat, the human asked, “So, are you sure you wish to do this?”

Gunther suddenly realized what he’d heard over the speakers: truth. Thy will be done, he prayed silently to the Great Galactic Gryphon. Looking right at the judge, he said, “Yes sir.”

“Well, since you’re sure.” He picked up the documents, signing them with a pen, then signed a digital copy with a stylus. “Well, then by the Laws of the State of Washington, the State hereby decrees that Mr. Gunther Greatheights of Redmond, King County, Washington has changed his name to Mr. Robert James Smith. At this time, all legal documents shall be amended to reflect this.” Offering a hand to the gryphon, he said, “Well now, Mr. Gre…I mean, Mr. Smith. Best of luck.”

The gryphon smiled with a twinkle in his eye, striding out of the court room, chest puffed and stride like a boss. Once out of the building, he left his car in place, opting instead to launch himself into the brilliant blue sky. It was supposed to be raining today, the reason he drove to the courthouse. Now, not a cloud in the sky, as if he’d been signaled that he’d proven himself true.

High above the ground, sunlight streaming warmth into his face, he cried out in the booming vocal call that was inherent in all gryphons. “ATTENTION WORLD,” he said with a brilliant smile plastered on his face, “I. AM. BOB!” With that, the newly monikered Bob Smith returned to his car. Today was the first of his vacation, the first of his new life – he had two weeks to prove to the world that while Gunther Greatheights had been nothing more than a weak, nebbish gryphon, Bob Smith deserved to stand amongst the greatest of his kind. Oh, yes, he would.

The Ballad of Bob, Part Two

“Hi, Trevor.” Trevor looked up from his desk and found Giselle standing there, leaning against his cubicle wall. Her tail was flickering back and forth with nervous activity, something he’d seen his buddy do before, so was it common for all gryphons?

“Hi, Giselle. What’s up?” he asked, gesturing towards the spare seat.

“Um…have you seen Gunther lately?” She was holding something in her claws. “I, uh, made some banana nut muffins and Gavin doesn’t really care for them – I completely forgot – so I was going to give them to Gunther.” She suddenly blushed slightly, but then recovered. “Actually, that’s really rude of me, sorry. Would you care for one?”

“Naah, nut allergy,” he said, waving it off, “but I appreciate the sentiment.” It wasn’t true, of course, but it made him wonder why she was carrying a sudden batch of muffins to another building on campus. Wouldn’t it be easier to just share them with the folks in her office? Unless they were made specifically for him…

“It’s a shame he’s not here at the moment,” Trevor commented. “He absolutely loves banana nut muffins.”

“Really?” Her eyes lit up like the sun rising majestically over the horizon. “That’s great!” She quickly calmed down and revised her words with, “I mean…that’s good to know. So, um, is he at lunch or…?”

“Oh, actually, for one, he works on the third floor. Second, he’s actually on vacation for a couple of weeks. Had to take care of some personal stuff, he said. Maybe it has something to do with his family, I dunno. But he’ll be back on the 19th, if that helps.”

Her wings flared out suddenly; she looked embarrassed as she suddenly brought them back under control. “That’s nice. Um, if you if you hear from him, would you tell him I said hi?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks.” She beamed a smile at him; Trevor, knowing his old friend, was familiar enough with gryphons to know how they smiled. “Well, I have to get back to work. I’ll see you later.”

As she disappeared, Max walked in. “So, man, you ready for lunch?”

“Don’t you know it. Eastside Café sound okay?”

“Works for me.” He then leaned forward and asked, “So, what was Giselle doing here?”

“Looking for our little lovelorn buddy, I think. I think there’s something going on between her and her boyfriend and I think she’s starting to weigh her options.”

“Really?” Max rubbed his chin in wicked thought. “This might require some careful watching, you think?”

“Yup.” Trevor leaned back in his chair, looking at the door that Giselle had walked out of. “I just hope that whatever our friend’s doing, he’s doing it with care and precision.”

Bob slipped on the clothing. It looked him, just perfectly. Pirate shirt and tight jeans, with cavalier boots. The tousle of his headfeathers he’d copied from Gordon Grindclaws, the guitarist for the heavy metal band We Hate You All. Of course, Bob didn’t really care for metal, but the featherstyle was just perfect for his looks.

He posed in the mirror, posing to get the best looking angle for him. He was going to become a new gryphon, one that the old Gunther couldn’t have dreamed of. Seeing a couple of loose feathers in his wings, he started primping, something he’d never done before in his life. The old Gunther didn’t really pay much attention to his looks, but Bob was a different animal, a gryphon on a drug called Bob Smith.

Satisfied with his appearance, he looked around his house, figuring there was much more to be done if he was going to make things as right as they should be. After all, who wanted to bring home such a luscious babe like Giselle to a place like this? It looked like an IKEA special, and clearly not indicative of a “Bob” kind of style. So off to shopping he would have to go.

Then there was his car. While he really enjoyed his imported little SEAT, he needed something that spoke a little more about his new style. He’d keep the SEAT, of course; one could never really know when an ordinary car would be needed, though he knew that for a different day and age he’d want something a little closer to his personal tastes…or at least the ones he was formulating.

The phone suddenly rang, Bob slid over to where it sat, tapped the answer icon on the screen and said in a smooth, controlled voice, “This is the Wonderful World of Bob. How may I assist your request for awesomeness today?”

“Um…sorry, I must have the wrong number,” a voice said on the other line.

“Oh, no, hey, wait. Gwen? That you?”

“Oh, hiya, big brother!” Bob’s little sister gushed over the phone. Guinevere was just a couple of years younger than he but already seemed to have her life well in hand. A senior at CalArts down in Los Angeles, she was studying to be an animator, a job she’d loved since she was nothing but a little chick and he a cub not much older. Gunther had always been impressed as to how in control of her life his little sister had been, and as Bob he doubted he’d be any less so. “Um…what’s the Wonderful World of Bob?”

He didn’t think it was something that he could explain to his sister over the phone, so he said, “I’ll tell you later. So what’s up?”

“Um…I was wondering if…you could pick me up at the airport?”

“You’re home for the weekend?”

“Well, yeah! The secret birthday party we’re throwing for Mom, remember?” Bob flinched; he hadn’t remembered that. “Anyway, I’m waiting for you at the arrivals gate at Sea-Tac. Western Airlines Flight 205. See you in thirty?”

“Um…sure. See ya.” Bob grinned slightly; he was going to have to tell his family sooner or later, and he and Gwen got along wonderfully, maybe she could help him in cultivating his new look as well as finding a way to explain it to their parents – gryphons being notoriously traditionalist and his parents being blander than vanilla to boot.

Well, it’s not like I have much choice anyway, he told himself. Reaching over to get his keys, he checked himself in the mirror for a final time, looking to make sure that his…

Waitaminit…. He reached over, picking up the shades, and slipping them on. The limited-edition “DJ P0N-3 Special” Oakleys fit comfortably and easily, and now assured that he had everything well in hand, he headed out the door for the quick trip up to the airport.

“Hey, Giselle, I need a lift to Sea-Tac.”

“Gavin, deal with it yourself. I’m not your chauffeur.” Giselle sighed once again. She was not going to bail him out of this again. She loved him dearly, but sooner or later he was going to….

“Look, you know I can’t. That’s why I need you to—”

“Look…Gavin, take a taxi, okay? You should’ve thought of this earlier. I’m at work right now and—”

“Look, my flight’s in forty-five minutes, it’s gonna take forever for a taxi to get here from downtown and if I miss the trip to E3, my boss is going to have my hide!”

She cawed angrily. “Fine, but you’re finding a way back home, got it?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. See ya in ten.” Saying nothing further, he hung up the phone.

Giselle had to fight instinct to slam the receiver of her own down. Instead, she turned to look into the next cubicle and her co-worker and friend, Linda. “Hey, gotta take off for a bit. Tell the boss it was personal business and I’ll be back in an hour, okay?”

Linda rolled her eyes. “Giselle, sooner or later, you’ve gotta kick that ingrate to the curb. He’s using you and you’re letting him!” After that, she said nothing further; the two had gone over this a dozen times and it had yet to sink into Giselle’s brain.

“We’ll talk about this later, okay? I just…Gavin’s not always like this. You just don’t see him when h—”

“Feed me the line of shit later, k, girl? Now get going.” With her hand, the woman dismissed the gryphoness, wondering when oh when she was going to wake up and join those born with a clue.

As she walked to her car, Giselle sighed, wondering what she’d done to be stuck with Gavin. Oh, that’s right….

Gwen stood by the curb, waiting to be picked up. As usual, the skies overhead were a typical just-on-the-verge-of-raining look. Even still, she just wore a tanktop, jeans and Vans, trying to feel casual and flirty. After all, she was a gryphoness and gryphonesses always wanted to look their best…. She smiled to herself; she wasn’t out to make anyone look bad, and it wasn’t her fault that the Great Galactic Gryphon had blessed her with some decent genes.

She then thought about her older brother and felt bad for him. Gawky, no sense of fashion, kind and friendly but very much a wallflower, Gunther was, as a human friend of hers said, “the kind of guy every woman wants to marry but no girl wants to date.” And it was unfair to him. He was a geek – geeks tended to be obsessed; certainly she understood that even if none of her friends did. And he was loyal and honest and caring…just not wild. And unfortunately for him, any gryphoness – possibly any sapient female, really – wanted something just a little on the wild side during the dating period.

He’ll find someone, I’m sure of it, she thought to herself as she dived back into looking at her tablet. He just needs to update his looks a little. Maybe I can help him with that while I’m here, right?

She was so engrossed in her thoughts and the magazine on the tablet that she barely noticed the freaky gryphon that walked over to her. “Go away,” she said, prepping her obvious lie. “Waiting for my boyfriend.” She looked up briefly and saw something that could charitably be thought of as if a rock star and a pirate merged in a very bad Voltron way. Without sparing a second thought she went back to reading her online copy of Pinfeather: The Gryphoness Fashion Weekly.

“What, not going to say hi to your older brother?” the lunatic asked…in a very familiar voice. At that, Gwen looked up…and stared. And stared. And stared.

“So, whaddya think?” Bob asked, turning around and parading for her. “Do I look hawt?”

Gwen, meanwhile, continued to stare. It was as if she was seeing the Hypnotoad preside over a rubbernecking trainwreck of the century. “Gunther?”

The refugee from a pirate film grinned. “It’s Bob now. Changed my name legally.”

“Y…yo….” Gwen’s head suddenly felt light and she passed out.

“Gwen? Sis?” Bob moved forward, helping his sister back to her feet. Gwen did always have a problem with fainting spells. Ironic, admittedly that someone as easygoing and confident as Bob’s younger sister could easily slip the bonds of consciousness, but then again, it was a medical issue she had throughout her life. Human doctors said that it was treatable with a drug cocktail, and considering how fast she collapsed he guessed she was due for another batch.

Well, best not to leave her here. With a bit of a strain he lifted her off her feet, then grabbed her bag with his tail, thankful that gryphon tails were prehensile. Giving a few passersby a slightly embarrassed grin, he then moved towards the car, glad that no one he knew was there to have seen that moment – it wasn’t exactly a good start to his life as Bob.

Sitting in the passenger seat, Gavin had a look of annoyance on his face. “Man, this is going to suck. I had tickets to tomorrow night’s game between the ‘Hawks and the 49ers! 50-Yard seats, just me and my homies! And now this E3 shit pops up? I mean, what’s up with that?”

Giselle rolled her eyes. “Yes, because you work for a game company and having to attend the largest gaming convention in the world is soooo difficult.”

“Hey, it’s Trainwreck Muldaur’s first time back in the game since he was taken off the D-List! I was hoping to see him smash the hell out of Frisco!” The large gryphon looked as though he was going to cry. “That ticket cost me a fortune….” His sorrow was quickly broken off as he started laughing roariously. “Man, check out that freakamoid! What circus did he escape from? And where’d he get the babe?”

Giselle stared at the weirdly-dressed gryphon walking towards a car, carrying a very attractive gryphoness – so much so Giselle felt a little plain in comparison. She was going to laugh slightly, until she saw a glimpse of the gryphon’s face, and she gasped. No…it can’t be him. He’s just…. Is he? This was compounded by the fact that the couple were going to a car that was very similar in make and color to Gunther’s own.

“Hey, Giselle, what the hell? We’re going to pass my stop!” Gavin snarled. In turn, she slammed on the brakes, swinging her car over towards the curb. As the gryphon got out of the car, he said, “Watch it, okay? You’re losing it, whatever it is.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she said, not really interested in anything he had to say at the moment; her mind was on the mystery that had been placed before her. “See you Friday,” she said, driving off the minute he’d retrieved everything from the car. She didn’t even look back as Gavin receded into the distance, wondering just what was going on with her.

Once off the airport grounds, Giselle made a couple of calls. The first was to her boss. “Yeah, Marty, not feeling good. I think it’s the feather flu. No, no human’s going to catch it unless they suddenly sprout wings; it only affects species with wings…Of course. Wouldn’t want the pegasi down the hall to get it. And I’ll be working from home for the next couple of days, not actually laying in bed sick, per se…Okay, got it. Talk to you later. Bye.”

That should keep him busy for a few, she thought to herself, and then made a second call. “Oh, heya, Wendy, it’s Giselle. Is Trevor in?...Oh, so he and Max went to lunch. That’s fine. Hey, can you have Trevor give me a call on my cell?...Thanks. It’s 425-555-4753…Thanks. I really appreciate it. Thanks again. Bye!”

She then went to stop for lunch. If her hunch was right, Gunther wasn’t the gryphon he said he was…and her heart was going to break for it.

Gwen woke up in a familiar room, coming to on Gunther’s bed. She’d slept here quite a few times when he was helping her on school projects, so she was well-versed with the rather pedestrian look of his room. Just perfectly normal, Gwen. You’re going to get out of the room and Gunther will be baking some chocolate chip cookies, because he always does that when you’re visiting. Perfectly normal, perfectly normal.

“Heya, sis. Feeling better?” Gwen’s eyes slid left and found Gunther sitting on the chair he kept in the bedroom, always predictable and always planned. But…who she was looking at wasn’t him. Instead, she found some wild-eyed goofball sitting in the chair. He had that same tousled creststyle as Gordon Grindclaws – seriously, who would in their right mind wear that in public? – as well as a burgundy red open-chested pirate shirt, very tight tan jeans and a pair of floppy black boots; in his right claw he was holding a brandy snifter…and he never drank! She half-expected him to announce that he was Gisbourne Gustwing, the legendary gryphon air pirate that terrorized Equestria’s skies hundreds of years ago.

“Gunther?” she asked, her voice incredulous.

He chuckled. “Once upon a time, maybe. Now I’m Bob, Robert Smith. Changed my name legally.”

She sat up, aghast. “Gunther—”

“Bob.”

“Whatever! What kind of drugs are you on?”

“I’m high on life!” he laughed. “Don’t you get it? For years, you’ve been trying to suggest that I was boring, dull, needed change. And now, now I realize that. I missed out on the gryphoness of my dreams because of it. But I’m trying to change all that, be the gryphon I was meant to be!”

“How? You planning to go down to Anaheim next week and audition for Pirates of the Carribean?” she asked. She then shook her head, waving her claws. “Look – when I said that you needed a change to your style, I didn’t say dress like you joined the freakin’ Cirque de Soliel, okay? I was expecting you to switch to polos and khakis, a little more preppy. Right now? You look like a wannabe Goth run through a fruits blender.”

“Why are you so down on who I am now?” he countered. Bob was more than a little surprised; he thought his sister if anyone would be more supportive.

“Because this isn’t you! This isn’t Gunther!”

“And I’m not Gunther anymore. You need to understand that,” he said, sighing dramatically.

“Yeah, then who are you? Nightmare Moon?”

He stood up. “Look, no matter what, I’m still your big brother, okay? That’s never going to change.”

A thought suddenly came in. “So who’s the girl?” He looked at her oddly and she knew she’d scored. “You wouldn’t do this out of the blue, and I thought I heard you saying that you’re missing out on the gryphoness of your dreams. So who is she?”

“Did I say that? Figure of speech, really.”

She grinned, wagging a finger. “You’re improving – that almost sounded believable.” She gave him an earnest smile, adding, “Look, whatever you’re doing, you must be serious about it. I just wish you’d told me about it; I could have done something to help.”

Bob shrugged. “It’s something I have to deal with. A second later, something came to mind. “Look – you hungry or something?”

“A little.”

“Tell ya what: let’s go down to the deli on 65th, just like old times. I’ll prove I’m the same gryphon, just…a little different.”

“That sounds wonderful,” she said before she felt woozy getting up. “Sorry, can I take a raincheck? My blood levels must still be low.”

“I thought you were getting that checked out with a doctor,” he accused.

“I am; it’s just that I didn’t have a chance to take the medicine, because it makes me really drowsy afterwards and I needed to be awake. But I think I could use a nap right now.”

Bob nodded. “Tell you what: why I don’t I go get them and bring them back, and you can just lie down until I get back. The usual?” She nodded and Bob went off towards the front door. He might not be Gunther any longer, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care about his kid sister.

Meanwhile, Gwen went over to her brother’s kitchen with her pills, took two of them, and then went and washed them down with a glass of water. She then went and crawled back over in his bed, determined to get at least a quick twenty minutes of shut-eye.

337 58th Street, Apartment 6. Giselle read the text Trevor sent her on the phone. Well, this is the address. Hope he’s home. The gryphoness knocked on the door, with no answer. She then knocked again, and what sounded like a mumbled female voice slurring, “Hold on, hold on, I’m coming, okay?” Giselle then found herself looking at the other gryphoness from earlier, and to her utter dismay she was even more attractive in person than from a distance. Giselle always thought of herself as the pretty sort, but there was a difference between “pretty” and “sexy”…and the other gryphoness had the latter in spades.

“Um…is Gunther here?” she asked to the bedroom-eyed gryphoness.

Gwen looked at the gryphoness that opened the door. She was cute, earnest, and if she’d been human, probably would have had what they called the “girl next door” look. Honestly, Gwen thought the new arrival was better off than her; she had to put up with all the gryphons hitting on her because she always looked ready for mating.

But hopefully, that would work in this case. If this girl was as hot for Gunth…er, Bob as vice versa, it could come in handy, Gwen thought. Besides, I only want the best for him. Leaning against the doorframe, Gwen cooed, “So, what’s your plans for him?”

“Excuse me, but…who are you?”

“What does it matter who I am?” Gwen deliberately lifted her right wing, moving it over so that it was just right below the other gryphoness’ head. It was a territorial move, the kind one made when challenging another for the right to a male – though that sort of thing was now a relic of the past, the gestures were still considered very forward and threatening. “I just want to hear what you have to say.”

“I don’t see how that’s any business of yours,” the other gryphon commented, swatting away Gwen’s challenging wing with a sweep of her tail. She’s smart; using her claws would only leave her open. Again, no fisticuffs were going to come of this, but a little challenge between gryphonesses could be a ritualized thing in many ways.

“I’m making it mine,” Gwen replied. “You see, I’ve got this nice thing going…and I want things to go down exactly as I expect it to, savvy? I don’t need some little miss innocent getting in my way.” Please take the bait please take the bait please take the bait, Gwen said silently. If it worked out, the other gryphoness would openly challenge Gwen by saying how she felt about Gu…Bob…and then Gwen could reveal the truth. It would be a great way for them to then work on getting that little match solved.

Instead, Giselle’s hackles flared and she gasped, “Well, if that’s how it’s going to be, that creep! And here I thought he liked me!”

That was not the response Gwen expected. “I, uh….”

Giselle leaned forward and prodded the younger gryphoness in the chest. “Now you pass this message on to him for me: tell him that if he ever thinks I’m giving him the time of day again, he’s got another thing coming!”

“Look, I think you’ve….” Gwen began before she realized that the other gryphon wasn’t listening. Gwen had successfully pushed her buttons…and they were all the wrong ones.

“He’s all yours – I don’t know why I even believed he….” Her eyes started watering, the heartbreak clear enough on her face to make Gwen’s guilt levels spike. Nothing else to say, Giselle turned and ran; Gwen wanted to follow, but she felt the drugs suddenly kicking in and knew it was too late. She’d just made things infinitely worse for her brother.

When he finally returned, she was lying down on his couch, looking morose. “Got you exactly what you wanted, even with extra mustard like you prefer,” he said, handing her a wrapped sandwich. When she didn’t grab for it, Bob looked at Gwen worriedly. “Hey, are you feeling well?”

“No,” she said, “not at all. It’s one of those…gryphoness sorta things.” Like a little sister that tries to make your relationship better and does the exact opposite. That kind of thing.

“So he’s got a girl on the side and gunning for you? What a jerk,” Linda said over the phone, sympathizing with her friend.

“All this time…I always thought that Gunther was a sweet and kind guy, but I guess I was wrong. I mean…that other gryphoness. She was just….” Giselle broke into a sob again, wisely pulling over her car as her vision was blinded by tears. “I…just….”

“Does Gavin know about any of this?”

Despite her hurt feelings, Giselle said, “Thankfully not – he’d kill Gunther in a heartbeat.”

“Then maybe that’s what needs to happen,” Linda suggested.

Giselle sighed. “No; Gunther might be a two-timer, but he doesn’t deserve to be hospitalized. Besides, he might just sue Gavin, which would make things worse, and in any case, Gavin’s in LA for the week.”

“Well, you need to get out of your blue funk, girl!” her friend said. “Tell you what: you free for dinner tonight? Let’s go to the Refinery. We’re always talking about going there, right?”

“Sure, sounds like a plan. Meet you there at eight. Now, I’m just going to go home for the rest of the day and cry my eyes out. Talk to you later.” Giselle ended the call and just buried her face in her claws, crying for her now shattered heart.

When Guido told Gertrude tonight that he was taking her to the Refinery, the gryphoness matron was practically giddy with excitement. Nestled in Pioneer Square, the famed restaurant was built when a famous inventor from Equestria built an experimental power station in the center of town to see if she could tap a ley line to provide free energy to the Seattle metro area; when the whole plan fell through – mainly due to the fact that the ley line had been shifted westward about ten miles as a result of an earthquake three years prior – the inventor and her husband decided to make the best of it and turned the place into a restaurant, as the facility’s unique geography made it oddly perfect for it. Since then the Refinery had become a hit and the gray pegasus or her rock star husband could be seen there whenever they were in town. Needless to say this only further bolstered the Refinery’s success, making it a choice location for nightlife in the town.

Guido, dressed in a suit, tugged at his collar. He hated suits, but his cub and chick told him to wear one; Gertrude needed no prodding to put on her finest dress. The limo sent to their home to pick them up had been supremely awesome, as had been the flowers. Guido looked at his wife and the mother of his hatchlings; she’d never looked lovelier.

Gertrude blushed. “You didn’t have to do this, Guido, dear,” she said, the awe clear in her voice.

“I didn’t,” he said with a smile as he ushered her to the door. “This was the kids’ idea.” Offering his arm, both gryphons walked towards the Maitre D, who had already been told to expect them and walked them up to a secluded table by the giant plasma ball simulating the power that was once supposed to course through the steel-and-polycarbon facility.

“Hi, Mom. Happy Birthday,” Gwen said, as she rose nervously from the seat, going over to hug her parents. She was dressed in a tuxedo shirt and black jeans, which was normal for her; the nervousness was not.

“Hello, Gwenny,” Gertrude said, holding her daughter. “Is something wrong, dear? And where is your brother?” In response, the younger gryphoness pointed to the figure walking towards them, and both Gertrude and Guido gasped gravely.

Walking towards them, carrying a Melchizedek-sized bottle of champagne with a few glasses. He was dressed in a purple satin pirate shirt, again, open-chested; a pair of tight leather pants and a plum pair of cavalier boots. He dyed his crestfeathers black while keeping it in the Gordon Grindclaws-style, while adding a dash of eyeliner to the whole ensemble. His family looked at him as if he were an oncoming train about to crash, and he smiled. “Momzers! Pops!” Setting down the bottle and glasses, he hugged his mother. “Happy Hatching Anniversary!”

“Gunther?” she asked in shock. “What have you done to yourself?”

He grinned as he shook a claw. “Nope, not Gunther anymore. Now it’s Bob. Well, Robert, technically. Legally changed my name to Robert Smith, though Bob rolls off the tongue better.” His family stood there, three gryphons in utter shock. “Oh, c’mon, folks! Why is it so hard to believe I wanted to turn my life around?”

“Turn your life around or pretend to be someone you’re not?” Gwen accused. “You’re just pretending to be someone you’re not because you want to get with that gryphoness!”

“What gryphoness?” Guido and Gertrude asked simultaneously.

“Folks, what gryphoness?” he asked. “I don’t have a gryphoness in my life and if I did, I probably wouldn’t appreciate her!” The phrase on Bob’s mind had been that he wouldn’t appreciate her the way she deserved, a statement of how much said object of his affection would deserve to be adored. Unfortunately, that didn’t come out quite the way he wanted it.

And then things got worse.

“How was I so wrong about Gunther?” Giselle asked her friend. They’d come to the Refinery in order to get her mind off her just-fresh heartbreak, but instead, it was all she wanted to talk about. “I mean…how did I not know that he was not only dating someone else, but trying to play the field?”

“Well, are you sure she’s not his sister or something? He doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who does things like this.”

“He would have mentioned one if he did,” Giselle said, wiping tears from her eyes. “Besides, no sister would have acted as territorial as that. Even jealous sisters act differently. She issued me a mating challenge, just like old times.” When the human looked completely clueless, Giselle explained, “It’s a traditional challenge issued by a gryphon or gryphoness trying to defend their mate from a potential suitor. In the old days, it was a prelude to a fight that usually ended in death. Nowadays? It’s just considered an extremely rude way of saying that someone’s taken.” She shook her head. “No, that girl couldn’t be his sister.”

“Look, I’m sorry about all that, but there are other fish in the sea, Giselle. You’ll find someone. And I’m sure he’ll think the world of you,” Linda said, reassuringly.

Giselle was about to respond when she suddenly heard a voice cry out, “Folks, what gryphoness? I don’t have a gryphoness in my life and if I did, I probably wouldn’t appreciate her!” She reacted as if shot, wheeling around behind her to see a familiar gryphoness standing there…and a freakishly-dressed gryphon there. This time, there was no doubt as to who it was.

In a move that would have made her hunter gryphon ancestors proud, Giselle leapt from her table, moving to Bob’s side in one move.

“Son…what do you mean you changed your name?” Gertrude reacted with shock.

“Like I said, Mom, it’s a brand new me! Gunther is a thing of the past! Now there’s just me, Bob, and things are going to ch—” He suddenly felt a tap on his shoulder. “Yes, can I hel…Giselle?”

She looked at him, her eyes crying and angry. “You led me on, you lying jerk!” she snarled. “And I though you and I could…but she…but you and she…but you…!”

“Giselle? What are you doing here?”

“What I should’ve done a long time ago, you sorry, two-timing, lying son of a—” That was the last thing Bob remembered of what she said. The next thing was that Giselle, for a gentle and soft gryphoness, had one hell of a right hook.

The Ballad of Bob, Finale

“Ow.”

“How you holding up?”

“Feel like a train wreck.”

“Could be worse. I guess that’s your girl, huh?”

“Was. Now, she’s never going to speak to me again, and I don’t even know why.”

“….”

Bob was now seated on a bench outside, nursing a shiner. Dinner, needless to say had been ruined by the tussle, and Gertrude and Guido had decided to head back home, her special night now turned into an utter disaster. Gwen told her parents she’d take care of her older brother and that she’d be by in the morning to explain everything.

“Look, Gunther, or Bob, or whatever…. I’m going to go over to the store and get an ice pack for you. Then we’re going to drive back to your apartment and I think we need to talk, big brother. This…this isn’t you. I don’t know what you meant to do, but…this isn’t you. Not whatever you’re trying to be. What was so wrong about being yourself?”

“Because I was dull and boring. Because ‘Gunther’ is dull and boring.”

“Well, I think…Giselle? That’s what you said her name was? I think Giselle was sweet on Gunther. And she has no idea who you are.” Gwen sighed. “I think you really need to think about that, because who you’re being right now? Just a phony. And the Gunther, or Bob, or whatever, I know could never could stand a phony.” With that, she walked off, trying to find the closest drugstore.

Bob sat there for a few minutes, not really sure of what to do now. His parents were pissed at him. His sister was disappointed in him. And Giselle? Well, the shiner she’d given him still hurt, and that was likely the last contact he’d ever have from her again. And what had he gotten out of all of it? Nothing. He sighed. He’d gotten a sign from The Great Galactic Gryphon that this was what he was supposed to do. Had he been wrong? Or was he meant to be the example that others were to live by, the Icarus that fell to earth for his hubris?

He leaned over, slumping. Becoming Bob had just cost him everything.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” Bob looked up and saw an old man standing there. The elderly gentleman spoke with an English accent, had long iron-gray hair tied back in a ponytail and wore a suit that seemed well out of place for the nightlife here in the Square.

“Please,” Bob gestured to the seat next to him. “Have a seat, sir.”

“My thanks. I’m afraid my body can’t quite keep up the way it used to,” the gentleman said as he gingerly placed himself on the bench. “In my youth, I was somewhat wild. But now? Well, there’s a reason people such as I eventually retire, if they have any sense. We can’t keep going forever, no matter how eternal my generation thinks itself to be. One day, it’s a full audience in Wembley, the next it’s my garden in West Sussex.”

The gryphon caught the accent as well as the location references. “British? So what brings you here?”

“You, sir, are a gryphon, are you not? I could very well ask you the same,” the man said, a twinkle in his eye. “But since you asked first: I’m in town because the EMP museum is doing a retrospective of the work of my old band. I wanted to sit it out, but my nephew insisted I come out of hiding, one last time for the fans. Personally, I’m surprised anyone remembers my work nowadays since new stars have taken over. But I suppose folks like Chuck Berry and Lonnie Donnegan once said that about me, and someday Midnight Moondust or the chaps with HUFSTOMPR will make the same comments about those who come after them.”

Bob guessed that was his cue to speak. Sitting back up, he said, “Well, I’m sitting here nursing a black eye while my sister went off to get me an icepack. Was planning to throw a birthday party for my mother – we all live in town – but things got out of hand.”

“I can see that,” the old man said, also taking note of the gryphon’s dress. “From what I know of your kind – and forgive me, for I don’t know much – your species is rather staid and plain, aren’t you?”

“Well, not all of us. Gordon Grindclaws, for example, is a heavy-metal guitarist for We Hate You All. And Garrett Glimmerdown is a professional videogame player.” Bob sighed. “But as for me? I’m just a programmer for Microsoft.”

“I’m presuming that pirate attire isn’t commonplace here.”

“Not hardly. But I….” He chuckled. “No, best not say that. You’d probably laugh.”

“I used to be a rock star, young man. That’s laughable in itself at times. You might be interested to know that I made a hit song out of talking about the time I first kissed a girl…and then fainted. And it’s all true, and the whole world knows about it. So your embarrassment can hardly be considered damning.”

“Seriously, sir, I’d hate to waste your time.”

“Show me, show me, show me how you do that trick….”

“Well,” Bob said, “if you insist….” He thought of how best to proceed. He also thought that the old man’s singing voice, combined with the lyric he just sang sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite place where he’d heard it before. “I was born as Gunther Greatheights. Born originally in Eyrie City, Griphonica, but we moved to Seattle when I was seven. I grew up as a responsible but boring gryphon: I might have had a future, but no pretty little gryphoness to call my own. And then I met her.”

“Her?”

“Giselle. Took my heart away, made me go weak in the knees. But…she has a boyfriend, I guess an on- and off- one. And I thought that all she wanted was friendship from me, though I wanted more. So I promised myself to change my ways, change my name and change my style, just so I could win her heart.”

“Changed your name?”

He nodded. “Yup, changed it a few days ago. Now I’m legally Robert Smith.”

“I have it on good authority that’s an excellent name,” the old man said, nodding sagely before continuing. “Forgive me if I find that shocking. Don’t gryphons traditionally keep to G names?”

“We do, but...I had a sign that I needed to change my name, and besides, Robert sounds much better than Gunther, don’t you think?”

There was a chuckle. “I’ll admit, it does. Go on.”

“Well, I felt that after my name change, I needed to do more with my life. I went and changed my wardrobe, fluffed and dyed my crestfeathers, then tried to be a new kind of gryphon. But it turns out that everyone I know thinks I’m just faking it, and Giselle? She’s the one that gave me the black eye – she thought I was two-timing her for some reason I don’t understand.”

“Well, how does your clothing make you feel? Rakish? Debonair?” The old man looked at them once more. “Perhaps like you want to sail on the HMS Victory in support of Admiral Nelson? A pirate ship, far away?”

Bob shook his head. “I thought they made me look great. But I think all they did was feed into a lie.”

The man grinned. “Then I think you’ve learned the crux of your problem. When I started in my trade, I was true to myself, found an original path I could follow. Once I became famous, dozens of others attempted to imitate me in various half-baked attempts at fame and fortune. Some were successful, some weren’t. But the ones that were took the basis of what I’d made and created something new.

“It seems to me that you didn’t want to be Gunther, but that’s who you are. You wanted to be a Robert Smith, but instead of being that, you only pretended to be one. Maybe – and this is just my supposition, mind – you were meant to be a Gunther named Robert Smith instead of a Gunther just playing at being one?”

“I don’t understand.”

“This girl of yours. Who does she want?”

“I thought she’d want a Robert. But…maybe I was wrong. But I can’t go back to being Gunther. Gunther was staid, boring. Gunther was unimaginative.”

“Or maybe Gunther was dependable and reliable and always there,” the man replied. “Sometimes creative and spontaneous are just nice ways of saying someone’s a liar or capricious. Maybe it’s Gunther who you should really be.”

Bob listened to those words…and knew the man was right. He also knew he could never be Gunther again. “But that door’s closed to me. State requires me to keep my new name for at least three years.”

“Then maybe you should give thought about being a Robert that’s just like Gunther, only a little bit different. After all, there’s no rule saying that you have to go to the way you were…but there’s no rule saying that you must continue down the disastrous road you’ve chosen: lost in a forest all alone. Think about it and find the path that is truly you regardless of what you call yourself. I’m sure it will be there.” The man stared to someone in the distance, and smiled. “Ah, there’s my nephew. Time for me to go, I’m afraid. But I wish you the best of luck on your decision, Mr. Smith.”

“Thanks. You’ve given me a lot to think about, Mister….?”

The man grinned impishly as his nephew came up. “Do you have any of those spare tickets left for Wednesday’s event?”

The nephew nodded curiously. “Sure,” he replied, fishing out a pair. “But why d—”

The old man grabbed them and handed them to Bob. “I expect to see you – the real you – there with your ladyfriend, sharp.”

The gryphon looked at the tickets, and a flash of realization came over his face…as well as the realization of who he was dressed as. Looking up at the old man with a mixture of shame and gratitude, he said, “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Glad to hear it. Now then, off we go.” Bob watched the pair wander off into the distance of Pioneer Square, alone in anonymity.

“Gunthe…er, Bob, sorry I’m late!” Gwen shouted from the air as she soared towards a landing. “I ended up having to fly a half-mile to find the nearest open Walgreens. Why on earth the CVS here always closes so damn late I never know.” Handing him the icepack, she asked, “So, feeling better?”

“Maybe. Certainly have a lot to think about,” he said, looking at his sister while covering the injured eye with the ice.

“So, coming back to reality, Gunther?”

“Yes…but not Gunther. For better or worse, I’m Bob now. I just need to figure out who Bob is,” he admitted.

“Well, let’s go back to your place and we’ll pick this up in the morning,” Gwen told him. “Now, let’s just get you home so you can nurse that eyeball, okay?”

Bob woke up the next morning to a very uncomfortable situation, and it wasn’t the fact regarding his black eye: he woke up to find his parents and his sister standing above him. “So, son, I think you owe your mother an apology for last night’s shenanigans.”

He didn’t even argue with that. “Look…everyone: I’m sorry. But I’ve been trying to turn over a new leaf. But I think I may have gone overboard just a little and pushed away Giselle.”

“So that’s the gryphoness you’ve been mooning over,” Guido said with a chuckle. “She’s rather feisty. Personally, I approve.” He paused. “So…what’s with this bit that you changed your name?”

“It’s true. I changed it to Robert Smith…Bob for short.”

Gertrude looked a bit wounded by that. “What was so wrong with Gunther?”

“Mom…Gunther’s a boring name. Gunther’s a name for dweebs and losers.”

“Well, that gryphoness didn’t seem to like Robert Smith much, either. She decked you, then threw you against the table until the bouncers came.”

Bob shook his head. “No, that wasn’t because of my new name. That was because of who I was trying to be. I was trying to be a new person, but instead just ended up being a fake. She liked me for me, not for who I was pretending to be…and I didn’t realize that until it was too late.” A thought came over him. “And I guess now you’re ashamed of me and are going to disown me for my cultural faux pas?”

“Son…yes, you ruined my birthday, I won’t deny that,” Gertrude said, “but it seems you’ve learned from your mistake and are hopefully going to fix that. If you’ve done that much, then that’s more than enough for me.”

“But…I don’t have a G name anymore,” he said.

“So?” Guido looked at his son. “Your point is?”

“But the Guide says….”

Guido sighed. “Son, clearly you haven’t read the Guide, have you? I suppose that’s my fault, not pushing you to do it when you were growing up.” The gryphon elder walked out of the room and then back into the room, carrying a thick hardcover book. Handing it to Bob, he said, “Chapter 7, Quatrain 6 – read it.”

Bob did as bid. “And lo I speak to you of honesty and self-truth: lest your name commit with the seventh and your heart commit with the seventh, so shall you be worthy of the Garden. But lest not you be worthy of the counting of seven, then shall you not be allowed to gavotte within paradise’s demenses.” Looking up from the book, he said, “It’s obvious: I needed to be worthy of the Seventh, to have and keep a name with the seventh letter of the alphabet, the G. I didn’t do that and I’m a sinner and failure in your eyes.”

“Son, what else comes in sevens in the guide?”

“The Grand Goals of Goodness, of course: the main laws we must live by.”

“Don’t you think the Great Guidesgryphon was referring to that when he mentioned committing to the seven and not an arbitrary letter that could mean anything in another language?” Guido closed the book. “You just made the same mistake too many of our kind do – following rules with genuine goodness in your heart. My parents understood it because they truly knew it, which is why they didn’t stick to G names when they gave my sister and I ours.”

“But Dad…your name’s Guido. And Aunt Gina’s obviously starts with a G,” Gwen pointed out.

Guido looked at his daughter. “Gwen…‘Guido’ is a nickname given to me by my employees, because I like working on Italian cars. My actual name is Reginald. And your aunt goes by Gina instead of Regina because when she married your uncle, he was a hard-core traditionalist like your brother was afraid we were.”

Both Bob and Gwen then asked, “Then what’s with the G names for us?”

Getrude smiled. “I liked your names when I chose them. It was a toss-up between Gunther and Eustace for your brother, and Guinevere and Constance for you.”

“I…see. Well, I can personally live with my name,” Gwen replied. “Big brother? What about you?”

Bob was silent for a while. “I need to be me, but I can’t be the same me anymore.” He looked at his sister. “I could use some help in a new wardrobe.”

She fist-pumped a claw. “Now you’re talking! Get up and get ready – we’re going off to breakfast; after yesterday, I think buying breakfast for everyone is the least you can do. Then, off to the mall!”

“Oh, hey, Giselle, I’m glad I ran into you.” Her boss was at the same café she was having breakfast at, and plopped down into the seat next to her.

“Oh, heya, Marty, what’s up?” She took a sip from her coffee, careful to drink it slowly. In humans, it was a stimulant, but in gryphons, imbibed fast enough it was like liquid cocaine – which is why she drank very slowly…and very decaf.

“Hey, I wanted the chance to talk to you about something work related, but if you’ve got time this morning, we could get it out of the way here in a more casual atmosphere.”

“Sure, I’m all ears,” she said, curious.

“You sure you want to be drinking that?” he asked, looking at the coffee.

“Why?”

“Because what I’m about to tell you might just rock your world, little lady,” he said with a grin. He walked over to the counter and ordered her a green tea. “Trust me, after I’m done, you’ll definitely not want that cup of joe.”

“So, whaddaya think?”

Bob stood in front of the mirror at the local Banana Republic, looking at the clothing in the mirror. A dozen things were going through his mind right now and all of them were very conflicting, but two main thoughts lasered through his mind: he had to really find out who and what he was going to be with his new persona, and he had to make up with Giselle before he lost her for good – assuming there was still time to do that.

“Big brother,” Gwen said, looking critically at the clothing, “why didn’t you ever come here before? The clothing here looks really good on you.”

He looked sheepish. “Uh…because Target’s only two blocks away?”

She cawed. “Look – Target’s good for household goods and stuff like that, but for style, you have to go with something that makes you look good. You have a high five-figure salary, for crying out loud – use it!”

He had to admit, the well-defined slacks and purple polo looked good on him, far better than the loose-fitting stuff he’d worn as Gunther or the stuff he walked into the store with. “Yeah, but I want to use it because it fits me, not anyone’s image of me anymore.”

“Well, what does the image say then?” she said, turning him towards back towards the mirror.

“That…I really screwed things up with Giselle,” he said, deflating.

Gwen saw that and sighed. “I…uh, have a confession to make. She came by your place while you were getting us lunch yesterday. I thought since you really liked her, I was going to make her a little jealous so she could put the moves on you sooner.”

“You did what?” Bob said, incredulous.

A guilty look crossed the gryphoness’ face. “Well…I sorta pretended that I was your girlfriend and challenged her to try to take you from me.”

Bob facepalmed.

Gwen blushed. “Look, I’m really sorry that I—” But she was cut off by Bob’s claw.

He gave her a smile. “You were just looking out for me. Yeah, you made a mistake…but I’ve been making mistakes the past few days. I really didn’t ask Mom or Dad about the idea. I didn’t think about how it would affect you. And I thought that trying to be someone I wasn’t was going to make Giselle fall for me.” He put his arm around her, saying, “So you might have made a mistake…but I made mistakes, with an s at the end.”

She leaned against him. “Now that’s the big brother I know and love,” she said. “So, should we keep trying on some clothing for you?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I think what you picked out fits me better than the other Bob stuff.”

“Still gonna be hard getting used to calling you that.”

“Well, it’s me from now on, so you’ll have to get used to it.” A thought came to mind. “You still don’t have a car, do you?”

“No, not really – and in LA, that’s murder. Granted, I don’t mind flying everywhere, but the Santa Anas screw up my feathers harsh at times.”

A thought crossed Bob’s face. “Well…after the shopping, let’s get headed to the car dealership. I was thinking about buying a new car anyway, and then I’ll sign the SEAT over to you.”

She looked at him as though he’d grown a second head. “I thought you said you were done with trying to be someone you weren’t.”

“I am – a couple of days ago I was looking at buying a Studebaker Hydra HexTurbo XT.” He saw the look of utter shock on her face. “Yeha, I know, it’s only a two-million dollar car and all. But I’d been thinking about the BMW F20 before all this started. It’s a little more realistic and I rented one when I had to go to Chicago a couple of months ago. Really nice ride.”

“Oooh – we both get cars out of this!” She gave him a giddy smile. “Let’s get going before someone else buys the last F20!”

“Not likely to happen; they’re a fairly common car.”

“True, but the sooner you get it, the sooner I get mine.”

The following day, Giselle passed by Gunther’s desk one last time, now that she wasn’t going to be here anymore. He was a jerk, leading her on, and yet…. She had a hard time thinking about it. It shouldn’t end this way, it really shouldn’t.

“Giselle?” She turned to see Max walking towards her, waving hi as he did. “Hey, what brings you here?”

“I was…I was hoping to talk to Gunther.”

“Who, Bob?”

“Bob?”

Max nodded. “Um, cha. Changed his name last week. That’s why he took two weeks of vacation, so he could finish up all the paperwork and take care of some other things before he came back.”

Like find a way to hide a girlfriend so I wouldn’t know, she mused sadly. “I guess it’s for the best then that I didn’t run into him. You see, today’s my last day on the job here, and so I—”

“Your last day? On a Monday?” Max asked. “I call bull. And believe me, I know about bull.”

She laughed at his pun. “No, seriously – all the stuff from my desk is already in my car. And for what it’s worth, I’m going to miss seeing you and Trevor.” She went over and gave him a quick hug. “Tell Trev my goodbyes, okay? I’ve got to go fill out some paperwork over at the HR office before everything’s officially over.”

“Yeah, sure. See ya,” he said, watching her walk off. The moment she was out of eyeshot, Max practically dived for the phone on Bob’s desk and called Trevor. “Dude, serious red alert time!”

“Thanks again, big brother.” Gwen had already packed her stuff and was getting ready to leave. She originally had intended to stay until Wednesday, but now that she had her own car, she was going to have to ready for the long drive down Interstate 5 to her apartment in Santa Clarita.

“Don’t forget to swing by Mom and Dad’s to say goodbye, since they’re expecting you to still stay for a couple more days,” he pointed out.

“I will, don’t worry,” she promised, though her words were soon drowned out by a Hummer racing into the parking lot. The SUV screeched to a halt as it came to a stop, sliding and catching the attention of everyone in the apartment complex. The window rolled down and Max yelled up to the third floor. “Bob! We got a crisis! Get your ass down here, bro!”

Both gryphons jumped down to the car. “Hey, Max, aren’t you supposed to be at work right now?”

“Dude, not when your ass is on the line, buddy! Giselle’s last day of work is today – she’s apparently bailing town! It’s now or never.” He then looked at his friend’s new style. “By the way, snazzy duds, homes.”

Trevor, in the passenger’s seat, shouted, “Nevermind that right now, Max. Bob, get in!” As Gwen darted to the other side of the Hummer to get in the other side, the human grinned and said, “Hey, Gwen. Long time no see. Still being a babe?”

She grinned; she liked her brother’s flirty friend. “Just too much gryphoness for you as always. Plus, aren’t you married?”

“Story of my life,” he grumbled good-naturedly as the hummer roared into existence, rocketing towards the address that Linda gave him.

Giselle had just packed the suitcase when the knock came at the door. She went by, half-expecting a pissed Gavin to say that he was kicked out of E3 or something. Instead, she found Gunther standing there, dressed far nicer than she’d seen the night before – in fact, the nicest she’d ever seen him dressed, ever – looking like something had just chased him halfway up from Tacoma. Behind him was Trevor and Max, both clearly having followed him.

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him; it was tempered a second later by how angry she was at him. “I told you I never wanted to see you again!”

“Listen, Giselle, I can explain everything,” he said.

“Look, you don’t have to explain anything, Gunther—”

“Bob,” a female voice said. “His name is Bob. Or Robert, if you want the technical version.” Giselle looked up and saw Gunther’s – Bob’s? – girlfriend.

“You,” she seethed angrily.

Gwen seemed to deflate. “Look…I’m not what you think I am and I’m sorry I made you think that.” She pointed back to the other gryphon, saying, “I’m his kid sister. I know I look slightly different, but that’s because I tend to take after my mom’s side of the family while he takes after Dad’s.”

“And I should believe this because?” Giselle asked; a second later, Gwen produced her California state driver’s license. “Oh, so you aren’t kidding. Then why did you…you know?”

“Because I was trying to help my big brother. I know he would have done the same for me if the shoe was on the other paw. He’s always been there for me and when he needed me, I wanted to help. I just…didn’t think it was going to go south the way it did.”

“But that doesn’t explain why you lied to me!” Giselle snarled, wheeling on Bob. “Have you been playing false with me all this time or—”

He shook his head. “No. And in fact, up until last Monday I thought that changing myself for you was what I needed to do if I was going to compete against your boyfriend. But after last night, I found that the only lie I’ve ever told you was trying to be someone else when you decked me.” He shrugged. “Look, I know I don’t have a chance against you and your boyfr—”

She looked at him oddly. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“But Gavin—” he started before she broke out in raucous laughter. “Something I said funny?”

She gasp in-between fits of laughter, “Gavin…he’s my younger brother. He lives with me because Mom and Dad got tired of him being a slacker all his life – he’s a professional game tester for Nintendo – and hoped I could do something to straighten him out. Unfortunately, he gets on my nerves as well.” Turning to Gwen, she said, “I suppose I should have realized what you said: Gavin looks a lot like my maternal great-grandfather, so he and I have no resemblance.”

There was an awkward pause as the males present all said “Oh,” at once. This passed though as Giselle asked, “So why did you change yourself Gunther? I…well,” she blushed, and then decided to take a chance. “I would have went out with you if you asked me; I’ve been hoping you would. But the other night…wow, did you look freakish.”

“I know. That’s in the past now.”

“I hope so.” A pause. “Look, I’m still a bit irritated with you, but…I guess dinner with you will make up for it.”

“Dinner and a show? Got some tickets for something going on at the EMP on Wednesday.” He fished the tickets out of his wallet, holding them up.

Trevor noticed them immediately. “Holy fuck – dude, where’d you get these? This has been sold out for a couple of months now!”

He shrugged enigmatically. “Some old man gave them to me. Said he used to be a rock star.”

“Rock star?” Giselle had a curious look on her face, wondering what Gunther…Bob?...was up to now.

“Uh, nevermind. But I wanted to make things right with you before you left.”

“Left? I’m not going anywhere,” she replied.

“Um, didn’t you say that your last day at work was today?” Max asked from the back; in the corner of his eye he could see the tickets Bob was still holding up as well as the bewildered look on Trevor’s face. “Plus, what’s with the bag?”

She grinned. “Oh, the job. Marty told me that DigiPen’s looking for a new instructor on control interface design and that the higher-ups decided they’d pay for an instructor position there. I’ll be teaching there on weekdays. Job pays more and it’s a challenge. So I’ll be working for the Big M still, just not in my current job.” She looked down at the suitcase and grunted, “Oh, and the luggage? It’s my idiot brother’s. He went down to LA for E3 this week; packed his XBox Mobile and NeoGeo Heritage with care, but the moron forgot to take clothing. He just realized it this morning and is too friggin’ cheap to go buy some clothing on his own.” She shook her head and sighed. “Maybe it’s time I kick him out, too.” She paused dramatically, followed by a coquettish look as she told Bob, “Unless you’re looking for a roomie of the female persuasion.”

Bob, true to himself, stuttered, “I…uh…well…ohboy…..”

“Just curious, though: why Robert? You don’t strike me as the Robert kind.”

He shrugged. “It just seemed like the right thing to do. Although I know I’m going to hear it from a lot of purists.”

Giselle nodded. “Tell me about it: I use my middle name, both because it prevents people asking and because I prefer it to my first name.”

“It’s your middle name?” Trevor asked.

“Oh yeah – I have no idea why my parents named me Muriel.”

Wednesday came and Bob and his new girlfriend were happily sitting by the stage in the EMP Museum. At the other end of the table, Trevor, his wife Natasha, Max and his fillyfriend Guiding Light were sitting. “Okay, Bob,” Trevor said, “Explain to me how you got a table right next to the stage. You know someone here at the EMP?”

“Sorta,” he said, cryptically. In the past couple of days he’d picked up a teasing aspect that neither of his friends knew where it came from…and they couldn’t be happier.

“Isn’t he just mysterious?” Giselle said, leaning into her boyfriend, then craning her neck up to kiss him on the cheek. Bob grinned slightly, finally in his element. He’d ended up being true to himself, getting the girl and realizing that he could do something for her. Yesterday, she called Gavin to tell him she was planning to move in with Bob and that he needed to find a new place to stay; in turn, Gavin strangely enough admitted he’d been a burden to her and would take over the apartment because he needed to shape up; there was this cute gryphoness who worked up north at Bioware that he was trying to get to know better.

“Mysterious, no; a pain in the ass, yes,” Max said, laughing. Light tapped him on the shoulder and frowned at him; cowed, Max shrugged and said, “But anyway, man, spill! How’d you get the tix?”

“Him,” Bob said, pointing to the stage as the old man, hair still tied in a ponytail but wearing clothing similar to what Bob had been wearing a few days prior, came up to him.

“I see you found your true self,” the old man said.

Bob nodded. “I guess I won’t be saying, ‘Why Can’t I Be You?’” In turn the man laughed, then went back to the microphone and picked up his guitar before nodding to his band.

“Thank you all for coming,” the old man addressed the crowd. “My first song goes out to my friend here and his new ladyfriend. May you never hiss like caged tigers and wonder if you couldn’t get closer than this,” he said as he segued into “The Lovecats.”

Everyone at the table then stared, slack-jawed at Bob – including Guiding Light, as she recognized the voice. Half the song went by before Trevor’s wife Tasha asked, “Uh, how did you…?”

Bob grinned. “Hey, we Robert Smiths have gotta stick together,” was all he said.

обман

It was a breezy day in the district of Kowloon in the tiny-nation state of Hong Kong, and to Millie Farmer, it was opportunity. Natives walked the streets in that friendly manner befitting a former British colony and a current nation in the Commonwealth; wealthy tourists from destinations around the globe wandered its streets, hailing from destinations far and wide. Others, as she watched, got off the Star Ferry and milled down Salisbury St, either turning into Kowloon Park Drive or continuing down the road along the public piers, for a number of reasons.

But Millie’s reason? Simple: opportunity. Her one shot at having everything she always wanted, everything that she’d deserved, everything that she could never have in her former life. As to her former life? Well, if you knew her casually, she’d just say she was just a farm girl from Northwood, Iowa, awed by the big wide world and the chance to see it for herself. If she knew you well enough, she’d admit that she’d done some traveling and was a lot worldlier than her corn-fed, pure-hearted, straight from Worth County appearance seemed. If you really knew her, you knew that she had a knack for accounting, graduated with an MBA from the prestigious Wharton School at the University of Pennsylvania, and spoke English (obviously!), Spanish, French and Russian fluently and German (though she was working on it!) and Chinese (needs more work….) passably.

And if you were one of the very few people who truly knew Millicent Farmer, you’d know it was all a lie. Well, not all of it: she did have a knack for accounting, she did go to Wharton, and she did speak all those languages, but for the rest? Lies, damn lies, politics and an unearthly string of luck. But after today, it wouldn’t be a problem. Millie would be on top of the world for once and for all, never to return to her past…that dark, stinking, past.

But for now, hey, things were looking up. Leaving her hotel, she headed down Kownloon Park Drive, past the empty remains of a now-shuttered Planet Hollywood, and towards a large, weirdly-medieval building a few streets down that stood out starkly against the modern skyline; in fact, it looked like someone stole a Scottish castle and dropped it right in the center of town.

As she arrived, she noted a single brass plaque on the door: LONELY SPIRE PTY. LTD. The door itself was an antiquated wood and metal thing, keeping with the whole Dungeons & Dragons motif of the building. Using the door knocker, she rapped on the door three times, then waited for an answer.

She didn’t have to wait long. A well-groomed gentleman opened the door. “Hello, and welcome to Lonely Spire. My name is Donny. May I help you, miss?”

Time to go into cute mode. Guys like this love cute mode. “Well, I’m Millie, and I have an appointment with a Mr. Basil regarding the analyst position?” She bent over, just slightly enough to show cleavage but not enough to make it obvious.

If he did, however, it didn’t show on his face. “Oh, please, come right in.” Ever the gentleman, Donny opened the door and allowed the young woman to come in. As she stepped in, she found the place looking more and more like a castle: arches, wall tapestries, marble floors and columns; the only apparent appeasements to the modern world were the ornate chandeliers that used AMOLED lights for illumination rather than any candle setup.

She walked down the hall, until she ran into…the same guy again? But that was impossible, even in something as Disneyland-ish as this place! As she approached, she asked, “Didn’t I run into you just a second ago?”

The man laughed, that same smile on his face. “Oh, you probably ran into my brother, Donny. I’m Danny. I take it you’re Ms. Farmer?”

“Um…yes.”

“The man gestured to the staircase. “Right through this way and up the stairs, then through the door at the top, please.” Millie did as she was bidden, up the stone stairs built into the side of the castle itself, towards the second floor. At the top, there was a door entitled BASIL, MANAGING DIRECTOR.

Millie opened the door and went in, walking right into a modern office. The office was decked out in modern furniture, with a TV set to a financial network and magazines on a coffee table and various seats. Across the room was a pair of ornate wooden doors, though these looked more of a Victorian feel than the rest of the castle. Seated before the door was an ornate desk, a secretary’s desk, with a very familiar person sitting there.

“Lemme guess,” she drolled as she approached. “You’re related to Donny and Danny, right?”

The guy at the desk nodded eagerly, flashing her the same smile that she’d seen on that face twice before. “Oh yes, very much so. The other two are my brothers. My name’s Denny.” He stood up, grinning. “I know, people don’t expect to see triplets working at the same place, but we work well together and the boss appreciates our particular talents. Speaking of which, you’re right on time; the boss would like to see you now, if you’re ready.”

Running into triplets took the wind out of her sails; if she kept her cute mode up, Millie knew it’d be spotted as an act in an instant. So instead she adopted a business demeanor. “Yes, please, if you would,” she said, all business.

“Then right through this door, miss,” Denny said, and waved her through the baroque doors before closing it behind her.

To her surprise, Millie found herself in something that looked like it was out of a time warp; in fact, it looked like the private home of Eleryne, the sorceress heroine of that fantasy novel, The Rimefrost Sword. Wood panels, old-fashioned wooden filing cabinets, a large oak desk with a typewriter and an antique granny phone. No sign of a computer, modern cellphones or anything that wasn’t older, than, say, the 1920s.

“I suppose it looks…a tad old fashioned, but I’ve been informed that I have a, how shall we say, nostalgia for these sort of things. I just like the look of them.” Millie turned around and found herself looking at a dragon – a real life dragon. But strangely enough, the dragon was hardly what one would call frightening. If anything, he looked comical. He was red in hue, with his crest spines and chest scales a warm butter tone. He wore a waistcoat, shirt and tie and had spectacles on his snout, though whether these were of actual use or ornamental, she wasn’t sure. At the moment, he held a dainty cup of tea in one claw, and a teapot in the other. All in all, he looked like a collectable Pocket Dragon figurine than an actual scourge of the skies.

“Probably because I look like some doddering old grandfather than someone as young and vital,” the dragon chuckled. Seeing the sudden look of shock on her face, he said, “No, I don’t read minds – but I get that response from just about everydrake I meet sooner or later.” Pouring her some tea, he offered it. “Believe it or not, I’m just in my 130s – that’s barely out of my childhood by dragon standards. But enough of me. Let us go over your CV, shall we?”

She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Well, went to the University of Pennsylvania, then Wharton…impressive. Four years as the regional financial analyst for Wells Fargo in Sioux City – your previous supervisor speaks of you in glowing terms. Can speak multiple languages; apparently very bright, too.” He set down the tablet and nodded. “Based on this all this, you more than qualify for the job, Ms. Farmer. But I have one question remaining.”

She smiled. “Ask away, sir.”

He then asked her the words she never thought she would hear: “I would like to you to tell me why you deserve the job, Ms. Ludmila Farmiga.”

Mille looked oddly at him. “Excuse me, sir, but that’s not my name. My name is Millicen—”

“Farmer, or who you pretend to be,” the dragon said smoothly. “You can lie to your parents…or those who think they’re your parents, at any rate…but you cannot lie to me. Do they know? Of course not – how could you have had your whole life with them if you did? But surely…surely they must have noticed something was wrong?”

“Mr. Basil, I do not like the implications you’re making.” Millie was furious. How dare he?

The dragon leaned over, getting right into her face. She could feel the heat rising from his craw. “I know truth, young lady. I know what it’s like to see lies. I know what it’s like to see someone and stomp them into the ground, only to realize that it was a mistake.” He sat back, drank his tea. “Do you think you’re the only one who’s changed her identity, ran away from her past?”

She looked at him with utter distrust.

“My name is actually Basil Jr., but when I was younger, I went by the name Garble. I was a young punk – ran around with some badflank dragons, and we were tough. Then we picked on a little shrimp named Spike. Turns out that he’s the younger adopted brother of the future archmage of Equestria. I found that out the hard way. I also found out that my father also had a run-in with Twilight Sparkle, so my family was very much on the outs with our own government. We later found the Equestriani Crown did nothing to encourage this, but the Dominion of Dragons pretty much destroyed us.

“My parents…I’ve not seen them since the day we were kicked out of our noble house. With my hoard, I came to human-Earth and started in finance…that’s what my family was good at. I got very lucky, very lucky indeed. Do you know who owns the national debt of Greece? That would be me. Probably never get the money back, but that’s not the point: the point was helping people. The point was being a better dragon than I was to the little drake who grew up to be one of Princess Celestia’s senior diplomats.” He took another sip of his tea. “And when I met him again, he forgave me for everything I did, because he was brought up to be proud of who he was regardless of who he was raised by. It just took me a few more decades to learn that.

“So tell me, Ludmila Farmiga, who’s pretending to be Millicent Farmer: why are you not who you say you are?”

Millie stood there, silent. In all her years, her parents – the ones in Iowa – had never known, had brushed off every difference and coincidence as the trauma of her youth. They never suspected the truth – either of the truths. “How did you…?”

“You can drop the accent, Ms. Farmiga. You don’t have to play the farm girl with me.”

“I prefer to be Millie, because that’s who I want to be. Besides, believe it or not, I don’t have an accent; this is actually my voice in English.”

“Ah, thought your life in Russia as the daughter of a Chechen mob boss gave you an accent. My apologies.”

She’d had enough. “How the hell do you know about me! I’ve spent years burying it all! Hiding who I really am, trying to rise above it all – and you’ve undone everything in a moment! How the hell could you have done that?”

Basil raised his free claw; a red sparkling cloud appeared in it. “Magic, of course. Each species back on Alter-Earth has a particular ability that none of the others have. For dragons, it’s the magic of truth. We know everything when it comes to truth, because it’s so ingrained in us. When you have hoards of valuables beyond imagination, you need to know who you can trust and who you can’t, which is why we developed veracimancy. In my case, all I had to do was use my magic to research things and know that Millicent Farmer is buried in a grave in St. Petersburg, Russia, right next to the person that everyone thinks is her mother. Miss Farmer only lived until the age of 13. Would you care to explain that?”

Millie looked as though she was on the verge of tears. Everything she’d worked for, destroyed. “I….”

“Would you care for a cup of tea? Tea always helps to calm the soul.” A second later, Basil said, “It’s not drugged, I promise. That’s not how dragon magic works and I find that sort of thing distasteful.” He poured her a cup of tea and bade her sit down in the nearby seat. “There’s milk, sugar and honey, if you care for any.”

“No thanks.” Her hands were shaking, barely holding onto the cup. With some difficulty, she brought it to her lips and sipped; as the fluid went through her, it had a devastatingly calming effect, bringing her back to relative ground. “Wow, that’s….” Her mind flashed and she said, “I thought you said—”

The dragon chuckled. “I meant what I said. The tea is a special blend from Zebrababwe, a gift from a client; it’s designed to calm the nerves. And I take it you were nervous, right?” She nodded; there was no use hiding it. “Good. Had you not been, you would be thrown out on your ear in an instant, obviously not proving worthy of trust.”

“Then how do I prove it now?”

“You tell me: how do you do it?”

Several minutes passed as the young woman and the dragon sat there in silence, drinking tea. Though she was calmer now, that didn’t mean she was completely calm; she knew everything she had was on the line at this moment. The dragon had penetrated her defenses and discovered who she really was, and she now had to make sure he never got that information out.

“I was born in St. Petersburg on December 30, 2011. My father was Ruslan Kadyrov, a senior leader in the Chechen Mob. My mother was Rachel Hardy, a former Miss Iowa who fell for my father’s riches and soon found out about what a monster he was, but too late to escape. My mother told me I was born of love but in retrospect I doubt it – Kadyrov is the kind of man who thinks forcing himself on a woman is foreplay. Thankfully, my mother raised me as she was raised, and I grew up very American in the middle of Russia and Chechnya, though my father insisted I bear a Russian name ‘just in case.’

“I won’t bother you with the details save that my mother was killed when I was fifteen; she tried to run away from him and he could never abide by anyone leaving him, since he was the one to do the dumping, not the other way around. After that, I was put in the care of his subsequent playthings, eventually ending up in the care of a zebra mare named Adimu; I was old enough to start being independent by that point, but I suspect Kadyrov wanted me under his thumb no matter what. By nature of being rather cautious, Adimu discovered what happened both to my mother and several of her predecessors and promised me she’d make sure I’d be taken away from Kadyrov as soon as possible – now that I was coming towards adulthood, my father started to make certain disturbing comments and touching me in ways no father should ever touch his child.” There was a look of rage in Millie’s eyes, a dragon’s fire that Basil knew from the times he’d disappointed his own father. Thankfully the elder Basil was never violent…well, not by dragon standards. Angry, she continued. “I only knew Adimu for less than a year, but she loved me for a lifetime’s worth.

“When I turned 19, Adimu contacted an old lover of hers, a zebra stallion named Nkebe; she made him promise to get me to safety somehow. Nkebe was a mercenary and a shaman, so he used a lot of magic I’ll never understand to get me out of my father’s clutches safely. Together, they snuck me out of St. Petersburg, racing towards Moscow and the US Embassy as fast as he could. But he later told me that when Kadyrov found out about what Adimu had done….” Millie’s eyes started to water as he said, “Nkebe said there wasn’t enough left of her for a full casket. I swore that day I’d break Ruslan Kadyrov and watch him burn in hell. I loved my mother, and I loved Adimu – only they loved me enough to care for me.” The rage in her eyes was now predatory.

There was a metallic click and Mille snapped out of her hate-induced reverie. Basil held up a claw and said to no one in particular, “I’m more than safe. Thank you for your concern.” She somehow sensed the disappearance of a presence, and Basil said, “Don’t worry about it. If you were an actual threat, I’d have several different ways of protecting myself. The security guards are just a bit…protective, is all.”

“Protective?”

“Yes. When you looked enraged, you had about five fully automatic rifles pointed at you courtesy of my security team.” The look in her eyes was one of fright, and he shrugged. “That’s just how business works when you’re this high up in the world of finance. But continue, Ms. Farmer.”

He called me by my last name, not “Farmiga.” That’s a plus, she said to herself. “Somewhere just outside of Moscow, it was rainy and muddy on a very dark night. Nkebe was driving with the lights off to throw off some pursuers that my father had sent after us. Nkebe was so focused on ditching the tail that he didn’t see the other car rushing towards us. The last thing I remember was his shout to cover my face.”

“I woke up in a hospital in Moscow a month later. I’d been in a coma for a month, one of only two survivors of the accident. And when the doctors found out, that’s when I discovered by pure luck, I’d had an accident where one of the passengers of the other car, like me, was thrown from the vehicle. She hadn’t been so lucky, though and was killed instantly. But that’s not where my luck was. The luck was that I looked exactly like the dead girl, an American from Iowa named Millicent Farmer. She was nearly fourteen and I’d turned 19 just a few months prior, but by some small miracle I looked younger than my age, so I was able to make the adjustment.

“It had helped that Nkebe had been conscious just long enough to switch our clothing and IDs, then kill Kadyrov’s men. Just before he passed out, he cast a spell on me, something called a ‘genetic amniomorphic’ spell, to change my genetic makeup so that I’d essentially be Millicent’s twin; he then cast the same spell on her to make her the twin of me, sort of switching our bodies in a sense. That, along with some hefty bribes to the medical staff by Nkebe, ensured that my medical documents were doctored to the point of ‘near-malpractice’, ensuring that I was now Millie Farmer.”

Basil templed his claws. “If what you’re saying is right, you were very lucky indeed. That spell was still experimental during the point you were in that accident. It was never designed to be used on humans – still isn’t, as far as I know. That spell could have killed you.”

“I know. Nkebe couldn’t stop apologizing for that. In any case, a few weeks afterwards, Theodore and Susan Farmer came to Moscow to pick up their wayward, runaway child and took me with them, since I’d been identified as her. I lied, said I couldn’t remember the details of my life, and so off I went to Iowa and away from the hell I’d known as a child….” She trailed off.

Basil knew she stopped on purpose. “Go on,” he said, gently.

“…and into a new one. But this was one of my own making, in a sense: as I spent weeks with Mr. and Mrs. Farmer, and getting to know them as my parents, I realized what kind of kind, wonderful, loving parents they were – that they are – and how much they loved their daughter. I also found out how much of a monster the real Millicent Farmer was. That girl needed therapy – no, it was worse than that. She stole. She lied. Ma – that is, Mrs. Farmer – suspected that it had been Millie that had killed their pet collie, Lucky Gal. Pa – Mr. Farmer – said that I, or rather, the real Millie, had been less than kind to her friends. But that wasn’t all. From people at school, I found she’d done drugs, and stole, and cheated and even slept around with boys at a really young age. She was a monster. And then she was dead, and I was her.”

“I’m curious as to how she ended up in Moscow.”

“That’s easy: one day, she stole everything from her parents’ bank accounts and the trust fund. Bank fraud, not sure how she did it. She then bought a fake passport and flew to Moscow, where she was going to meet up with a cute guy she supposedly met on the internet. What she didn’t know is that the guy actually worked for Kadyrov and was going to sell her into sex slavery. Truth is, she got off easy by dying. But now I had to clean her mess.”

“It was then I realized how much Ma and Pa – her parents, now my own – were giving her a second chance to straighten herself out…and though they didn’t know it, was giving me a second chance as well. Nkebe dropped by the summer just before high school started – they knew him as a backpacking zebra who just happened to be there at the right time – and told me that Kadyrov believed me to be dead, so I could live this life safe and free, but he’d watch from a distance when he could, because that’s what Adimu would have wanted. Until now, he’s the only one who knows the truth.” She finished the cup of tea.

“Would you care for another?” Basil asked, getting up to pour himself one. When she nodded, he snapped his clawdigits and the cup refilled itself. “It’s a shame humans don’t have magic,” he said, returning to his seat. “It’s very useful at times. Anyway, please continue.”

“It was during my first year with Ma and Pa that I learned to be their daughter, really be the child they deserved. I threw myself into my studies, and the fact that I spoke Russian fluently got me a few stares until I found that I had an affinity for languages; after that they just thought I was a polyglot. It was during the times that I saw how much Millicent had stolen from her parents – my parents – and how close they were coming to losing the farm because of it that drove me to business school. I stopped caring about revenge against Kadyrov, and about doing everything I could to save the family farm, because I needed to do right by my parents.”

“But you’re not Millicent Farmer,” Basil pointed out.

“With all due respect, Mr. Basil, bullshit – I might not have been born as Millie Farmer, but I became her, and proudly, too. Ma and Pa did everything they could for her and she stabbed them in the back – and yet they still did the same for me, even knowing that the chance that it would happen again. That’s the definition of parenthood – looking out for your kid, even when they’re so far lost you don’t know how they’ll turn out. Kadyrov may have given me my blood, but he was no parent. Rachel Hardy was a parent. Adimu was a parent. Nkebe, to the best he can be, is a parent. And Ma and Pa are definitely my parents.

“Within a year, I’d earned my parents’ love; they loved Millie unconditionally, but there was always that hesitancy. But not anymore. As for everyone else, Millie the Monster, the brat proud to be a straight D student, was making A’s and getting into AP classes and was picking up languages like no tomorrow, pushed her way to the top; no one had any clue this was stuff that I’d learned years prior and much easier to understand being in my twenties, as opposed to supposedly still in my early teens. And while I couldn’t be at the top of my class, I came in fourth and worked my way through University and then Wharton. Then I made sure I got a high-paying job near home so I could be there when Ma and Pa needed me and save enough money to return the stolen funds back to the trust fund and their bank accounts.

“So you’re asking me how I can prove it? Because I want revenge, Mr. Basil. Not against Ruslan Kadyrov, but against Millicent Farmer and what she did to her parents. And only I can provide that revenge in the name of my parents against their birth daughter. You could say in a bizarre sense that I want revenge against myself.”

Basil paused in thought. “I see. So you care nothing about Ruslan Kadyrov?”

“I want to see him pay for his crimes, sure, but I don’t want him dead. I’d truly be his daughter if that was the case, and I’m not that. I am the daughter of Theodore and Susan Farmer now, and though they don’t know it, there’s a Russian girl who is glad she’s finally found someone who loves her.” She set the cup down, and looked at the dragon, Millie Farmer until the very end.

There was a knock at the door. Basil said, “Yes, come in.”

Donny walked in, carrying a tablet. “Mr. Basil? You should see this.” With that he handed the tablet to the dragon, who skimmed its contents, occasionally running his claw across the screen to scroll or bring up new info.

“I see. Thank you, Donny.” The man left and Basil handed the tablet to Millie. “I think you should read this.”

The article on the screen was from Izvestia Online, the Moscow daily news site. She looked at Basil with uncertainty. “Is this real?”

He nodded. “Tablet’s live; feel free to look up any site in the world.”

In turn, she looked at, in order, The London Times, The New York Post, CNN, Al Jazeera, Univision Noticias and Equestria Daily; all, in one form or another, said the same thing: Ruslan Kadyrov, infamous Chechen gangster, had been caught by the Russian Interior Ministry Police. He was being charged with a lot of financial crimes – dozens of them, and was looking at twenty years in jail.

“Now, Ms. Farmer, I want you to understand something: all those embezzling, fraud and other financial charges they’re hitting him with? They won’t stick. I know the financial world too well. He’ll walk. However....” The dragon leaned forward. “If the deaths of Rachel Hardy, Adimu and others were reported, he couldn’t walk away from that. There are too many bodies. But the police won’t know unless there was someone who could report it.”

Millie understood what he said in a heartbeat. “No! It’ll destroy my parents!”

He sighed. “Millie…do you love your parents? Not just the ones in Iowa, but your real mother and Adimu?”

There was no hesitation in her voice. “Yes.”

“Then you need to be a truthspeaker. That, more than anything else, would be your revenge against Millicent Farmer, against Ruslan Kadyrov. When used correctly, truth is a potent weapon that nothing can withstand. And I challenge you to use it.” Basil stood up from his seat, smiling. “You’ve got some things to think about, so I’ll let you go at this time. Have a pleasant evening, Ms. Farmer.”

A few minutes Millie left the castle, headed towards her hotel. The sun was shining brightly on its way towards the other end of the sky, but there was no light in Millie Farmer’s heart, only pain. He’d found her out, but was saying nothing. No, the only way to reveal the truth, to gain vengeance for her loved ones and vanquish the demons…was to pull the trigger herself.

Those thoughts haunted her for the rest of the day and into night, when she called home. “Hi, Ma!”

“Oh, hello, sweetie!” Susan Farmer said to the girl she thought was her daughter. No, I am her daughter! Millie insisted. “How’s Hong Kong? Did you get the job?”

“Don’t know yet,” Millie said, her voice shaking.

Susan Farmer picked up on it immediately. “Millie, is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong, Ma.” A few more seconds went by before she asked, “Ma – are you and Pa proud of me?”

“What brought that on? Of course we’re proud of you, honey – whole dang town is! Why, just the other day I ran into your old third grade teacher, Mrs. Debussy, and she said that she’d never thought that the troubled little girl she taught would graduate from one of the nation’s most prestigious business schools.”

She ran into Millicent’s old teacher, Millie told herself. Mrs. Debussy, though I’ve met her a few times, never actually taught me. “Thanks, Ma. I…I guess I’m just a little nervous.”

“We have every confidence that you’ll get it. Why, after all, you’re a decent, smart, honest girl. Who wouldn’t want that at their company?”

“I guess so. Well, it’s getting late here, so I’ll let you go, Ma. Talk to you later. Give my love to Pa, okay? Night.” As her mother ended the call, Millie looked at the phone in her hand. Never had it felt so heavy before. But in those last words, Susan had given her expectations of the girl she thought was her daughter: You’re a decent, smart, honest girl.

No I’m not, Ma, Millie mused to herself. But it’s time I be the girl you taught me to be.

It was three in the morning when the lone figure approached the Russian Embassy to Hong Kong. The guard looked at her and said in accented English, “I’m sorry, miss, but business hours start at eight in the morning. You’ll have to come back in the morning.”

She shook her head, and in perfect Russian, said, “My name is Ludmila Farmiga. I am the daughter of Ruslan Kadyrov, and I need to speak to someone in charge immediately. I have evidence that he murdered several people, not the least of which was Rachel Hardy…my mother.”

The news exploded the next day about the sudden revelation of a previously hidden daughter of Kadyrov’s, willing to provide evidence that he’d murdered several dozen people and other sapients.

“Now that’s a woman unafraid.” Sitting at his desk, reading from a tablet, Basil smiled, then turned to Danny. “Get me our Moscow office and tell them to hire the best legal team in the country for Ms. Farmer. Spare no expense.”

“So you’ll do everything you can for her?” a raspy voice asked. Basil looked up and saw a zebra stallion standing there, looking very out of place and uncomfortable in a suit. He was scarred and wore an eyepatch over an eye he lost. But his good eye reflected worry and concern.

“We go the extra mile for our clients, sir, and I mean it. Plus, that was an example of an incredibly brave young female, regardless of species. I assure you, we’ll go the distance for her. You needn’t worry, Mr. Nkebe – we’ve got it under control.”

At the trial, speaking with a ferocious grasp of the truth, Ludmila Farmiga told the world about her father and the kind of monster he was, the deals he made, the beings he murdered – and the fact that he’d turned a lecherous eye towards her and would have succeeded had it not been for the courage of Adimu.

In turn, Kadyrov’s legal team turned on her hard, exposing the lie of her life that was Millicent Farmer and the double-life she’d lead. In response, Millie wielded the truth like a lightsaber, bravely admitting that though she loved the Farmers, she wasn’t truly her daughter and that the real Millie Farmer was dead, buried with Rachel Hardy. Subsequent tests proved this, and Ludmila Farmiga was truly exposed to the world.

When the two came face to face, Ludmila gave no mercy whatsoever. She told the jury every sordid detail, from his abuse to his detailed discussions about how he’d killed his lovers, from how much she cried when her mother and then much later one Adimu had died, to her fears that her father would take her in the same way he’d done with his other women. She’d labeled him monster, creature, cretin, and the jurors fell right in line with her assessment.

In the end, Kadyrov was given the death sentence for the dozens of murders at his hand. But for her own crimes, his lawyers found a chink in her defense and had her sentenced to prison for identity theft. In there, it was only a matter of time before he could get his hands on her and get his revenge for having his life turned against him, daughter or not.

For the first time in her life, Millie felt completely afraid – and completely free. She’d told the truth and gained not revenge, but justice – and more than just justice…peace of mind. Whatever happened next, it would be what meant to happen.

A teary Theodore Farmer looked at the girl he thought was his daughter, and didn’t know how to react. He and his wife had flown to Moscow, where Millie was imprisoned, to either get the truth or get their daughter out of jail. They expected this all to be a sham, but this time not of their daughter’s fault. This time, they trusted Millie.

Looking at her on the other side of the transparent aluminum, it was clear she loved them, and he was having a hard time believing her words. “So you’re saying you’re not our Millie?”

“I’m sorry,” she began, “but I—”

The door behind the Farmers burst open, and Basil walked through, a wide smile on his face; he was followed in short order by Denny. “Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Farmer, I presume?”

Susan Farmer looked at the well-dressed dragon. “Yes, that’s us.”

“Good, this will make it easier, then.” He looked at Millie sternly, then said, “You can drop the act now, Millie. I cannot apologize enough that the FSB didn’t extract you sooner. I’ve called the Minister of Justice personally to convey my displeasure with the situation.”

The three humans looked at the dragon as if he were insane. It was Millie who spoke first. “Mr. Basil, I, uh….”

“Well, since you’re such at a loss for words, allow me. Mr. and Mrs. Farmer, your daughter did a very brave thing, I’d like you to know. When we found out about Kadyrov’s fraud against our firm, our investigators worked with the Russian FSB to bring charges. However, we knew this wasn’t going to stick. It was then that one of my private investigators found out about Mr. Kadyrov’s secret daughter. The one that had been killed in the same accident Millie was in year ago, by amazing coincidence – one that is a dead ringer for your child.”

“Is this true?” Theodore Farmer turned and looked at Millie, who looked as though she didn’t know what to say.

“The hard part was faking all those blood and DNA tests to make it look as though she wasn’t your daughter,” Basil continued to say, lying through his teeth. “But I suspect the hardest part for Millie – and the one I think took by far the most courage – was telling the whole world she wasn’t your daughter when that wasn’t true.” Basil looked at Millie, as the Farmers looked at her as well, hoping for a sign.

“I…it wasn’t easy,” she began, telling the truth from her heart, letting it all out. “Denying the parents that have loved me so, have always taken care of me and wanted the best for me. I felt like I’d hurt you all over again.”

Basil leaned forward, and a flicker of magic came into his forepaw. “Mr. Farmer, this is a bloodcharm. Touch the stone, then Millie will touch the stone. If she’s not your true daughter, then the stone will break.” The dragon handed the farmer a blood-red ruby, which glowed a soft purple when he touched it. Theodore then slid the small gem through the window, his breath stalled as he didn’t know what to do.

Millie took the gem…and it didn’t shatter. It glowed even brighter, a sign of truth.

“There, sir, see?” Basil said, with a grin.

“Well, Mr. Basil,” Susan said, “we love our daughter…but the testimony… it seemed so real.”

“Truth can be subjective, madam. I have no doubt that what Millie said on the witness stand was true – but only because she was speaking as Ludmila Farmiga, not as herself. Your child is yours, after all – and Ludmila was never yours.” The two older humans nodded at the sage wisdom of the dragon.

“Now then, you may want to wait at your hotel for a bit; she’s got a ton of paperwork to fill out before they release her to my company’s care. But I assure you, once she’s out, we’ll celebrate. I’ll remain with her to ensure the FSB keeps their end of the bargain.”

“Thank you, Mr. Basil,” Mr. Farmer said, offering his hand, which Basil happily shook. Turning back to his daughter, he smiled. “We’ll see you in a few hours, honey,” he said, never more sure about his daughter than now. His wife blew her daughter a kiss and with that, both left the visitation room.

A few seconds went by before Denny looked at Basil. “Okay, they’ve just cleared the security perimeter, sir. Go ahead.”

“My thanks.” Basil turned to Millie. “I knew you had it in you: the means to shine the truth like a beacon.”

“But I lied, Mr. Basil – I’m not their daughter. How can I ever face Ma and Pa again?”

Basil grinned with a twinkle in his eye. “Did the gem break?”

“Well, no, but—”

“See? The gem says that you’re the daughter of Theodore and Susan Farmer.”

The look on her face was one of utter confusion. “But how?”

“Easy: the gemstone measures truth, not blood or DNA. Millie, your father truly loves you and you him. That’s what the gem measured, and that’s what it says: you’re their child.” He snapped his fingers and a silver chain suddenly appeared attached to the gem. “Now, whenever you wear it, it will always show the person looking at you the truth of who you are: Millicent Sandra Farmer, daughter of Theodore and Susan, and no one will ever doubt you. Needless to say, Ludmila Farmiga no longer exists.”

She smiled, looking at the gem, and what it meant. “So the spell lies. Pure sophistry.”

“Well, we dragons do place a high value on the truth…but I’ve been known to embellish a bit here and there at times,” he chuckled. Coughing to get back to his focus, he said, “So, about the job. You start Monday. Full pay package, benefits and the like included. Plus, I’ll throw in a decent bonus so you can give it to your parents – after all, there is all that money that you need to make up for, right?”

“Well, not me…but, yeah, me,” she said, never so happy in her life to owe a lot of money to someone. “But I do have one question, Mr. Basil.”

“Just call me Garble. Mr. Basil makes me feel old,” he said with a laugh. “Other than that, ask away.”

“Fine. So what’s with the triplets?”

He looked at her, a warrior of truth, someone a dragon could be proud to associate with. “Oh, that’s a long story,” he began, “but I’ll have plenty of time to tell you.”

Of Fathers and Daughters

Author's Note

I "wrote" this during the two month my arm was down, via Dragon Naturally Speaking. I'm putting this up, as is (i.e. without my usual prereading crew) because I felt it had to go up as is.

Of Fathers and Daughters

“Daddy?”

It was funny, Matt thought, that after all these years, he was still getting used to that word. He and his wife had been together for fifteen years now and because of all their struggles to have children, it was a word that they always felt was never going to be used to refer to him in his lifetime.

And now I have two, he thought, a wide smile coming to his face. It was still just a week after he and Anna had brought the young boy they’d named Samuel home from the adoption center. At the moment, Anna was out taking their infant son to the doctor’s for a checkup. Which left the yardwork to be done, something Matt usually avoided like the plague – when it came to housework, the two had always bucked the traditional gender roles: Anna was better with yardwork and car maintenance, while Matt always did the cooking, cleaning and laundry. But now with a family, things were going to have to change a little bit, hence why Matt was outside pruning the pear tree just on the perimeter of their home.

“Daddy!” the young voice wailed.

Matt smiled, looking down at the source of the voice: his older child, young Daisy Jo, a beautiful little girl having just turned five a few months back. In the fall, due to her age and Matt and Anna’s careers, little Daisy Jo would attend school just like all the other children.

Which was just the point: she wasn’t just like other children. Daisy Jo was an alien, a creature that Matt and Anna had found over five years prior and decided to hide from a world that wouldn’t understand. During that time, they found the alien was intelligent – and despite her equine looks and form, nothing more than a scared little girl in need of love and care, in need of parents just as much as Matt and Anna needed a child to still the empty pain in their own lives.

“Yes, sweetie?” Matt said, looking down from the ladder. He watched as his daughter walked towards him, the waddle in her gait far less pronounced than it was when she first tried walking on her legs (hindlegs?). She’d stumbled and fell a lot, probably moreso than other toddlers due to the fact that her feet weren’t plantigrade like that of humans. Eventually she worked out swishing her tail in a contrary pattern to her footsteps and it let her walk, albeit at an uneven wobble. It would probably turn into a normal step as she grew older.

“Can I help?” The large purple eyes looked at him with earnestness and a bit of hope. Like any child, she wanted to prove herself to her parents, especially now that she was a big sister with all the big girl responsibilities that came with it. But Matt knew these were the moments before his daughter’s innocence would be gone forever. A house was being built on the empty lot across the street. Next door, the lot had been sold and eventually a home would be built there was well. This part of Winchester was growing, and the previously empty neighborhood that was called Meadow Row for the only road passing through was now jokingly referred to as “Medical Row” for all the doctors and other wealthy homeowners building in the area.

Soon, there would be no place for Daisy Jo to have her innocence intact. Soon, contact with the human world would come. And Matt and Anna dreaded that day. What would happen if the government declared her a threat or worse? To the powers that presided seventy miles to the east, she wouldn’t be a child to be loved, but instead some sort of creature to be studied. Exaggerations aside, one only had to look at alien depictions in pop culture to know what humanity thought of beings not of this world. And while the jury was still out on where Daisy Jo was from, obviously it wasn’t likely from a location humans were familiar with.

But even still, no matter what, the little horselike thing with the long mane, cream-colored coat, brilliant purple eyes and ill-fitting OshKoshB’Gosh overalls cut to allow her tail to stick out would never be just as he saw her. To him, no matter what, she would always be his Daisy Jo, his beautiful little daughter, human or not.

Matt patiently got down from the ladder, then hoisted Daisy Jo and placed her on his shoulders; she giggled as she settled there. Carefully he got back onto the ladder, handing her the shears and instructing her on what to cut and how to be careful. He could feel the weight of her small body on his frame, the cascade of her tail down his back, and he knew she was a part of him. Not physically – that much he and his daughter would never share – but familial bonds were much more than mere flesh and blood.

Matt looked at his daughter. She was eight years old now, going for her annual physical at the doctor’s office.

Doctor’s. The word burned angrily within him. This wasn’t a doctor’s office, not really. Some doctors refused to touch the “alien creature”; some cited concerns about animals. Finally, to the eternal gratitude of Daisy Jo’s parents, they’d received some help. The first came from the parent of a girl Daisy Jo’s age; Tyson McAllister, a lawyer and the former legal assistant for a Michigan congressman, decided to ply his trade in town – and his first client was the Martinez family. Mac waged a legal battle against the government to have them recognize Daisy Jo Martinez for what she was – a normal girl, even if not human.

But the other was William Hilton, the family’s local veterinarian. Incensed by the treatment of a young child whose birth was no fault of hers, he took a section of his vet office and at his own expense retooled it with hundreds of dollars in human medical equipment and care. Half-jokingly referring to himself as the world’s first “equiniatric medical practitioner”, he chose to treat Daisy Jo not just like another pet in need of medical assistance, but a human patient in need of the healing hands of a doctor.

“Everything okay in there, Will?” Matt asked as the man walked out. To Matt, Will reminded him of a latter-day Errol Flynn complete with the thin mustache, dapper attire and the ever-bright eyes. Perhaps he could have been an actor in another time.

Hilton shook his head. “Just friggin’ disgusting. We were asked for another blood sample, this time by the National Xenobiology Center in Rosemont, Illinois – I looked ‘em up; it’s nothing more than a bunch of UFO nuts with money, so I told them to go pack sand.”

Matt looked at the slightly open door; inside, Daisy Jo sat there, talking to a nurse; another thing that Matt owed Hilton for: that he insisted that Daisy Jo be treated as a little human girl regardless of how she looked and backed that up with hiring a human RN specifically for assistance with the young alien girl.

“Thanks. But I guess you’re not telling me something.”

Will sighed as he nodded. “We got a court order to test her intelligence against baselines for other kids her age. Now that’s not the problem; Daisy Jo is extremely smart for her age. My concern is that the testers will either try to play this off as either she’s a danger because she’s smarter than the average human her age – but big deal, so are a lot of other kids; or that they’ll try to humiliate her by trying to make her play Sparky the Magical Counting Horse.”

“Guess I’ll have to see if I can get a tutor to help her with whatever test.”

Hilton waved a hand dismissively. “Already took care of that for you. My daughter’s in town from college this week. She’s studying to be a teacher, so this would be a great opportunity for her to work with special needs kids, if you’ll excuse the term.”

“Will, you don—”

“Sorry, Matt, but I do. I take huge offense at the medical profession for abandoning your daughter just because she’s a little different from the norm. You and Anna are raising a wonderful little girl and you need to keep on doing that. But as her doctor, I have to make sure what’s best for my patient, and that means proving to the world that the worst thing we’ll ever fear from her is that she’ll catch a normal human rhinovirus and then pass on a cold like every other kid like her.”

Matt smiled. “Thanks. I mean that.”

“No problem – just think of it as payback from all the times I enjoyed your novels. Besides, this experience has taught me a lot about human medicine. Maybe it’s time I hang up the old vet lab coat and head to medical school to do more that way. Lord knows, Daisy Jo will need it as she grows up.”

Those words sank into his mind as they drove home. A lifetime of having his daughter in his life. It was as dangerous as it was promising. Provided they won the case and she wasn’t pulled from their lives, she would grow up with them the same way as Sammy would, growing up, growing older and the like. Would she date? Would she be interested in the same things as others when she grew up? Like any other child, it was hard to tell.

“Daddy?” At the moment, she sat in the passenger seat, Daisy Jo was scratching absently at a bandage where she’d gotten a shot. Due to it being late fall, her winter coat had set in and her fur was now too long to have a simple bandaid as she would during other times of the year.

“Furball, don’t poke at that,” he told her. “You don’t want to make it hurt more, right?”

She nodded, removing her “hand”. She then looked at him and asked the question he and his wife was always afraid their daughter would ask. “Daddy? Why am I different?”

“What do you mean different? You’re just as pretty as your mother, so I don’t see how you’re different.”

She looked at him, a sad look in her eyes. “I mean…you and Mommy don’t have tails. And you have ears that are different. And different nose and mouth, and you have hands and I don’t. And then someone told Dr. Hilton that you and he and Mommy were all human…and that I wasn’t.”

Matt pulled over the car, then looked at his little girl. “Daisy Jo, yes, you’re not exactly like me or your mother. But you know what? Neither is your brother.”

“But Sammy looks like you and Mommy,” she countered.

Matt shook his head. “Not really, because Sammy, like you, was adopted.”

“Adopted?”

“It means that you weren’t born to us like other kids, but that we brought you home because we love you. And let me tell you, princess, you are very special, one of a kind. I know a lot of kids don’t have to go to the doctor like you do, or have special classes like you do, or other things. But your mother and I do all these things for you because we love you. Not many parents would.”

She sat there for the longest time, as if thinking about it. Matt wasn’t sure what was going through her mind: was it the human processes of the only life she knew, or the genetic instincts of whatever species she was? One thing for sure: it was clear that she was thinking, the sign of a sapient mind and not, as a recent report from the Toledo Zoo suggested, “mere repetition on line with a parrot.”

“So…I guess that means you love me more than Valerie’s mommy and daddy love her? I heard they got a divorce.”

A weighty topic there, Matt mused. He answered as best as he could: “Well, I can’t answer either of those, but I can tell you this, sunshine: your mother and I will always be there for you.”

“Promise?” The look in her eyes showed a flash of worry. Not the same kind of primal worry as the dog whenever they left him at home, but the kind of a young heart fearing being broken.

Matt reached over and hugged her. “You’re my little girl. You’ll always have me around.” He felt her small arms wrap around him with no hesitation, the sign of a daughter holding her father and though she couldn’t see it, he had a wide smile on his face. As he broke from the hug, he gave her a smile and said, “Hey, you wanna get lunch?”

“Can we go to Roy’s?” For some reason, she liked Roy Rogers, a regional burger chain. Despite the fact that it was regional, there wasn’t one in Winchester; the closest one was roughly twenty miles north, in Inwood, West Virginia.

“Well…I dunno….” Matt said, a mock-serious look on his face.

“Please please please?”

He faked a sigh. “Well, only because the best little girl in the world wants to go.” She whinnied in joy (another one of the reminders his daughter wasn’t like other children, but still a joy regardless) and with that, he turned left onto the Berryville Pike, headed eastbound towards Interstate 81 and the trip up to West Virginia.

Matt turned away slightly so the cameras wouldn’t record the tears of joy in his eyes. While he was used to some degree of celebrity due to being an author, this wasn’t something he wanted his family to be known for. Regardless, for the rest of eternity, they would be known in both history books and law texts for the events of this week.

It had started off on Wednesday, DJ’s tenth birthday (she’d recently shown a preference for being called “DJ”, because initialisms were the current tween fad and she decided it made her more mature, just like girls at that age always thought) and ended the day with a jubilant call by Mac and the greatest gift a girl like DJ could ever have: the unanimous decision by the Supreme Court that the 14th Amendment, as applied via the modified Turing test batteries DJ had taken over the years and the proof that she was sapient, applied to her as well, thus giving her constitutional legal protections and more importantly, the right of every person in the United States, of which she now joined them in the definition of “person.”

There had been a lot of joyful bouncing and cheering that night and a tired but elated DJ had went to bed that night happy, even if she had yet to understand the full ramifications of the legal decision.

But it was the call the next day that meant the world. “Mr. Martinez? This is the Office of the Governor, down in Richmond. Good morning to you, sir.” Matt stood there slack-jawed as the gubernatorial assistant explained everything: now that DJ was legal, the State of Virginia was now required by law to give her proof of residency and since no one could prove where she was from, the governor had decided to issue her a certificate of birth with an adoption amendment instead of a generic certificate of adoption. What it meant was that DJ was, as far as the government was concerned, a citizen by birth; and though her birth parents would never be known, the decision now made Matt and Anna her parents by law.

There had been a lot of joy that night, followed by shopping for clothing for the ceremony the next day and drive down to Richmond for the signing.

And now, here they were, cameras rolling and the world watching the first “person” of was already being termed Equine-American ancestry. Nervous by all the attention, DJ stood by her parents, holding her birth certificate as the governor chatted on about something, rolling it into his reelection plans, etc. etc. etc. – Matt tuned it out by that point. He’d already heard the words he wanted to hear, and that was simply that no one was going to take his little girl away from him.

After it was all over, he felt a tug on his jacket and looked down to see DJ staring up at him. “Uh, Dad?”

“Yes, furball?”

“Uh, this paper says that you and Mom are my parents now, right?”

He nodded. “That’s right.”

She gave him a smile. “I wonder why they needed to give me a piece of paper to tell me what I already know.” At those words, Matt looked at Anna and saw her smile as she held Sammy’s hand. They’d been a family for years now, but as DJ now well knew, they never needed a paper to know the obvious.

The family – now officially one – smiled for the cameras and the assembly. Tomorrow would be just another day, but for now, there was triumph.

DJ had a very rough look on her face. “Well, that sucked.” She moved the joystick around, slapped a button combo and on cue, Chun-Li blasted out a fireball, the blue projectile rocketing across the screen towards its target.

“DJ, your mother did try,” Matt said, tapping in a sequence of buttons on the control pad. Onscreen, Ken parried the blow, then returned the volley with a hadoken of his own. “And she’s not mad at you, furball. If anything, she’s mad at herself.” He paused the game briefly, nodding his head in the direction of the stairs, where Anna was down in her office working on the latest pages of her comic. “We talked about it last night and she really feels bad about insisting you get an ‘equine’ perspective on biology as well as the normal one.”

“I know. I just…I didn’t expect horses to weird out like that, Dad! Actually, it was kinda creepy – they got turned on by me being around, and then after actually looking at me, they went serious-time whack job.” She made more inputs and Chun-Li lashed out onscreen with a lightning kick, easily blocked by her father’s controlling of Ken, though the hit did chip some life off the bar. In turn, Ken delivered a light dragon punch, which Chun-Li blocked before moving with a jab that connected. “I mean…it made me feel…well, y’know, like a barn animal.”

Matt grinned slightly and said, “And I know that your mother already told you age-old jokes about women and horses, right?”

“No, actually, I heard about all that from other kids at school,” she said, a grin sliding onto her face for the briefest instant before she frowned as Ken slammed Chun-Li hard with a hard hurricane kick. “But it just made me feel…less than human, if that makes sense.”

Matt nodded. “It does. But I hope that you understand that your mother just had your best interests in mind.”

DJ nodded. “I do. And I know it’s hard putting up with me when I’m not as normal as Sammy. He’s a regular human after all.”

“Sweetie, you’re just as human as the rest of us,” Matt answered. “You’re just…well, differently-shaped.”

“You mean ‘pony-shaped.’ God, I hate that word,” she seethed. Her anger reflected on the screen, where she let out a point-blank kikosho, the penumbra of energy enveloping the character as Ken took the blast full brunt. Just enough damage had been done that the character fell, beaten.

Matt looked at his daughter. “I’ve been playing Street Fighter since I was just slightly older than you. How the heck are you beating me?”

She grinned. “I got mad leet skillz, Dad. Gamer grrl, just like Mom.”

He chuckled. “And this is what I get for your mom insisting that I buy Street Fighter 5 SuperMix.”

“So…when do I get it?”

Matt rolled his eyes. “Get what?”

She nickered. “C’mon, Dad, you promised that if I beat you on tournament mode in SF5SM, you’d get me a phone. Personally, I’m drooling over the Nexus RAZR.”

“What about hidden characters?” he asked, coyly. “You still haven’t beaten me using Akuma, Evil Ryu or Charlie.” In turn, she merely crossed her arms and looked at him with a familiar glance that Anna usually used on him when she was annoyed – when did DJ pick that up? Throwing his hands in the air, he said, “Okay, since you insisted,” as he reached around the pillow at his side, producing an unopened Nexus RAZR 5G Plus.”

She squeed in delight as she took it, then went over and hugged him. “Dad! You’re the greatest!”

“Don’t thank me, furball. Your mom actually got it for you yesterday. We figured you were old enough for one.”

“Well, I guess I should go down and thank Mom then,” she said as she scampered away down the stairs. Once out of eyeshot, Matt went over to the options screen, dialing down the difficulty settings for his control to baseline. If he hadn’t dialed it so high, he would have likely beat her, but that wasn’t exactly the job of being a parent. Then again, he doubted that most father-daughter bonding time involved fighting games.

He grinned. At the rate she was improving, soon enough he wouldn’t even need to give her the handicap.

Twilight sighed as she looked at DJ’s father. While they hadn’t quite won the court case, the end result was the same: that DJ would be allowed to return to her human family. But there would be a price to be paid, and Twilight knew she’d be the one who’d end up with that bill.

“I don’t know how everypony can’t seem to understand that she’s nearly a grown mare capable of making her own decisions,” Twilight began.

Matt took a sip from the cider mug Twilight had supplied; Equestriani cider was far stronger than the scrumpy they were used to at home, and could get someone blasted fairly quick. Instead, he looked briefly at his daughter as she spoke with her pony aunts Pinkie Pie, Sweetie Belle and Applejack; even from this distance he could tell her body language indicated she was very uncomfortable seeing what was essentially her own kind constantly in the nude even if it was natural here in this reality – he didn’t blame her for that; he was having problems with it himself.

To get his mind off it, he said, “I think she would beg to differ on your statement.”

“How so?” Twilight’s eyes reflection curiosity and confusion at that statement.

“Because she doesn’t consider herself a mare. She considers herself a girl, a woman, a human and not really a pony, and that’s because of how we raised her. I know that’s hard for a lot of your people to understand, but the truth is we couldn’t have raised her like a pony. You’ve seen equines on our planet; they’re non-sapients just like regular horses are here. Plus, as you’ve said before, your adopted younger brother considers himself more of a stallion than a drake, am I correct?” He nodded his head towards her. “Look at her now: her body language, the way she’s moving and what does that tell you?”

“It tells me humans are really uncomfortable without clothing in public,” Twilight said with a slight smile. She also knew he was, but this was her home and her world; if humans and ponies were to coexist now that they knew of each other’s existence, they would just have to adjust. She just hoped that a certain female individual could do so. And that chance, right now, seemed very remote.

“Sumthin’ wrong, sugar?” Applejack asked, seeing the teen mare, standing wobbily and uneasily. Applejack had observed DJ in the last few weeks to know that it wasn’t due to the unfamiliarity of standing upright and more with the disquiet look on her face.

“It’s…nothing.” Applejack noted Sandalwo…DJ waving a foreleg (or what the teen pony would likely term an “arm”) dismissively. “Nothing at all.”

“Darlin’, Ah know that ‘nuthin.’ Y’ can’t fool this filly,” Applejack said, kindly.

“Yeah! Turn that frown upside down, DJ! You’re going home, you’ll be happy, and you have us!” Pinkie chirped.

DJ sighed. “But how do I know that we won’t be back here again next year, fighting another battle?” Her voice was anguished and the worry clearly reflected in her violet eyes. “Or even six months from now? How do I know that Rarity won’t keep at it until I’m in her claws?”

Sweetie smiled wanly. “For one, neither Twilight nor I would allow that – nor would Celestia. Two, I get the feeling AJ and Pinkie here wouldn’t, either,” the unicorn said, looking at the older mares. Lastly, she commented, “And in the end, one thing was proven at the end of all this: this isn’t your home. You came from here, but you don’t belong here. You belong on human-Earth with your family.”

At that, DJ perked up slightly. “Thanks.”

“Just don’t forget: we’re your family too, DJ.” And with that, the four came together in a hug.

Both Twilight and Matt watched as the four ponies embraced. “You’ve raised a beautiful individual,” Twilight said, choosing her words carefully. “No matter what happens to her, you’ve raised her to be smart, intelligent and kind – and that’s an accomplishment for any parent.”

“Thanks, Twi,” Matt replied with a grin.

“You’re welcome,” she replied, returning the smile.

“So….” Matt said, standing just outside the airport checklines. He was holding his carryon bag, ready for the return flight from Los Angeles to Dulles.

“Um….” DJ looked down, shuffling her feet. It was, needless to say, an uncomfortable moment. A week ago, father and daughter had driven cross-country to LA, where DJ would be attending college. Just the week before, she’d had to bid farewell, to everything she knew, ready for a new life here in the place where her father had come from, and she’d do it almost alone – sure, Logan was attending cross-town rival UCLA while DJ would be at USC, but for the most part, it was time to….

“Grow up,” DJ said the words slipping from her lips. “My God, I’m getting old.”

Matt chuckled. “Gee, way to make me feel good about all this, furball.”

“Sorry.”

“So…you sure you’re going to be okay here on your own?”

She rolled her eyes. “Dad, we went over this. I’ll be living with abuelo y abuela for at least the first year, then afterwards I’ll think about getting an apartment. Your old hometown of Huntington Beach isn’t that far up I-405 from college.”

“The 405, sweetie. They don’t use ‘I’ terminology here. It’s a SoCal thing.”

“Oh, so that’s why Mom teases you about ‘the 66’ and ‘the 81’ instead of I-66 and I-81.” After she said that, the two fell into an uncomfortable silence that lasted for several minutes until the announcement about Matt’s flight. DJ went and hugged her father, tears silently streaming down her face. “I’ll miss you. I already miss Mom, Sam and the rest.”

He reached down and stroked her hair. He noted people stared at the two of them: even after all these years she was still recognizable as the “alien girl” because of her relative ubiquity; after two years of humans and ponies starting to come to terms with their shared existences, DJ was still one of the very few ponies outside of diplomats who lived on Earth…that is, ‘human-Earth’, a disambiguating term people still tongue-tripped over.

“We’ll miss you too, DJ. But don’t forget: you are a grown woman now. We’ll be there for you, always, but it’s time to start taking your own steps. I did it long ago, so did your mother. In just a few years, your brother will as well. And I suppose that there’s some sort of path that your family in Equestria had to take as well. It’s all a part of growing up.”

“Getting old, you mean?” she said, looking at him with a smile despite the tears.

“Damn straight. You know how many gray hairs I’ve got because of you?”

“Probably too many.” She let him go.

“Keep in touch, kiddo.”

“I will – God knows abuela won’t give me a moment’s rest otherwise.”

“I know.”

DJ stood there for a few minutes long after her father disappeared from sight on the other side of the inspection point. Just a few more minutes, and she’d get back in her car for the drive back to her grandparents’ place in San Marino. She knew her grandparents would be understanding of the whole situation and spoil her rotten, but she really didn’t care about that right now.

Right now was about time for growing up and being an adult, and as she now stood alone in an airport, 3000 miles west of where she was from, was probably the first time she felt like one. Childhood departed on the plane five minutes ago, and as she walked towards the parking lot, the young woman had to now deal with the rigors of being amongst people yet not being part of them, and at the same time being amongst those who were young and not part of that world now, either.

“You know, Dad, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in your dress uniform before, except for pictures,” DJ told her father. At the moment, he was in his old Navy dress blues, befitting the current moment.

Matt felt the back of his head, where his ponytail had been until two days ago; since Navy regulations prohibited them and since he needed to be in his old uniform for this, it was a sacrifice he could afford to make. “Well, it’ll grow back someday,” he said to himself, absently.

“I could give you some hair extensions from my tail,” she teased. “Had to thin it out to fit through the tail slot.”

“Your hair’s thicker than mine, furball. Wouldn’t work,” he replied right back, trying to keep his voice from cracking. There would be time to recollect and focus on all of this later; there would be time for him and Anna to think back. But best to keep on the here and now, especially as the minutes ticked down.

“So, Dad, I was thinking,” DJ started.

“I would hope so. Otherwise all of this today would be for nothing,” he replied gently and as a result got a gentle tap – gentle being a relative term – from her in response. “You know you punch like a TLAM?” he said, rubbing his arm.

She merely grinned in response, then said, “Seriously, though: do you remember when I was just a little girl – I must’ve been eight or something – and I asked you why I was different?”

“You’ve asked me that quite a few times,” Matt mused.

DJ pouted slightly and then added, “I think it was after a trip to the doctor’s. You and I then went up to the Roy Rogers up in Inwood. But I remember asking you why I was different, and you told me that I wasn’t.”

Matt nodded; like everything with his daughter, it was a cherished memory. “Maybe,” he said in a teasing tone.

She huffed, then smiled softly. “I know why I’m different. It’s because I’m yours and Mom’s.” She knew he was going to say something, so she waved her arms and said, “Let me finish, Dad. I know you would have adopted me whether I was human, or a dragon or a fairy or whatever. You and Mom are just like that. But,” she said, leaning up to give him a kiss on his cheek, “that’s what makes me yours. I couldn’t be me without having parents who gave everything for me. And I couldn’t be happier.”

“Even now?” he said, a smile wide upon his face and eyes flickering with the first glint of tears of joy.

“Always, Daddy,” she said softly and genuinely. For a moment, Matt saw the five year old girl she’d been, then blurred through the years into the woman she’d become. That she wasn’t a human woman was immaterial. That she was the pride of him and Anna was.

He offered his arm. “Ready?”

She took it. “Just like you taught me.”

The pair walked out of the room, walking down the aisle towards the wedding procession at the other end. Today, Matt would give his daughter to the bonds of marriage and the boy she’d loved for over a decade. But even in loss, there was much to be gained.

化け物, 第1章

Author's Note

The title of the story, 化け物, is read as “Bakemono”.

化け物, 第1章

Ueda Tsubasa stared out the window of her school, watching the cherry blossoms fall off the trees, buoyed by the wind. She then looked down at the baseball field in the distance, specifically at the pitcher on the mound as the team worked to prepare for the Spring Kōshien. She sighed with the complete and total rapture of a young woman feeling the love’s tugging of the heartstrings. And again, she looked at the pitcher on the mound, throwing fastballs with a grace and ease that none of the practice batters could keep up with.

Ryuji-kun, keeper of her heart, the boy that brought life into her eyes, the one who she longed to be with.

Now if she could only bring up the courage to confess to him.

“Tsu-chan, stop staring out the window and pay attention to the club!” a voice practically shouted into her ear. Caught off guard, she yelped in surprise, and the chair she leaned on gave way, slipping and sending her tumbling out the window – from the fourth floor of the school. Someone screamed and there was the tumble of chairs as someone rushed to their feet.

But seconds later the panic proved to be fruitless as the rhythmic rumble of flapping wings sounded from outside. Soft pink wings, the appendages that marked Tsubasa’s nature as a pegasus, flitted her back up to the window. Hovering just outside, a crossed look etched on her features, her lilac eyes showing annoyance. “Ha ha. Very funny, Yuka.”

Her best friend, Matsuzaka Yuka, was helpless in stitches as she pointed and laughed. “That’s what you get for daydreaming at the window, you bug!”

Another voice called out, “Ueda-san, you may want to come in before anyone decides to look up.” Adjusting his glasses, Yoshida Hiroshi looked at her briefly before returning his attention to the tablet he held in his hands.

Tsubasa blushed furiously and bolted through the window before anyone could look up her skirt, an easy feat considering the pony floated four stories above the ground. As she landed, she looked at Yoshida with indignation. “How could you even say something like that? That’s indecent!”

Yuka patted Tsubasa on the back and grinned. “One, Yoshida-san was just being practical; having you floating out the window like a billboard is kinda annoying. Two, yeah, just about any guy’s gonna look up, but all they’re gonna see is your tail and…wait, maybe there are some guys that get into that kinda freaky stuff. Then again, your love life, Tsu-chan.”

Tsubasa screwed her features into a hurt frown. “Yuka, you know that Ryuji-kun’s the only guy for me.”

A fourth person, another girl, called out, “Heh, good luck at getting Ryuji Daisuke to look at you, Ueda-san.”

“That’s just mean, Maeda-san,” Yoshida replied, looking briefly at Tsubasa before going back to his tablet.

Maeda looked at Tsubasa, shaking her head. “No, I don’t mean that at all, Ueda-san. What I meant was—”

“I know,” Tsubasa said, glumly. “Ryuji-kun won’t look at me because I can’t compete with Kanzaki. I don’t have those kinds of looks and I never will.” But she brightened. “But DJ-sempai said if I try hard enough, I can do anything!”

“Who?”

Tsubasa grinned. “DJ Martinez! She’s the first of our kind here, got magically sent to America over thirty years ago. She lives in down in Yokosuka with her husband, who’s in the American navy.” The pink pegasus teen practically gushed as she said, “She’s sooooo cool and nice, and she comes to my parents’ café all the time since I met her. She’s like a big sister I can always count on.”

Yuka shook her head. “You also pointed out that she was raised as an American and we all know Americans are weird. Plus, being sweet and nice only gets you so far, Tsu-chan. Unfortunately,” she said, pointing at her chest, “ya gotta have a pair of these.”

“Um….” she said, rubbing her forehooves together in nervousness, “I…um…I do….”

“Oh, that’s right – equinoids have physiology closer to primates than that of regular equines, so that means you’ve got all the parts in the right places!” At this, Tsubasa only blushed more and covered her face with her wings to prevent further embarrassment.

“Can we start the meeting?” Yoshida said, finally reaching his limit. “Miss President?”

Maeda looked at the door to the classroom and found that nobody was coming in. “Looks like nobody else is coming today, so let’s get started. I’m calling today’s meeting of the Astronomy Club to order….”

An hour later, Yuka and Tsubasa were walking home from school, enjoying the cool spring afternoon. “Don’t you have to work at your parents’ café today?” Yuka asked her friend.

Tsubasa nodded. “But I forgot my yukata and obi at home, so I’ll go, change into pants, grab it and then fly to the café. Shouldn’t take long.”

“I envy you, you know that? You never have to worry about being late or missing a bus or train – you just flap those things and they take you wherever you want to go.”

Tsubasa shook her head sadly. “It’s not always easy. I have to preen them regularly, or else? Pink feathers everywhere. And if they get too wet from rain or snow, they get too heavy to fly with. I do have jackets that have wing slips, but then it’s hard to do anything other than broad flight – can’t make quick course corrections. And, lastly, there’s a trade-off: being a pony – especially a pegasus – I have to watch out so that stuff regular people don’t have, like tails, wings and the like, don’t get in the way of anything. If someone gets their coat caught in the train doors? Embarrassment. If I get my tail caught? Trip to the hospital.” She then frowned as she added, “And I can’t always get the guys I’m looking for to look at me.”

“Oh, c’mon, you’re seriously not listening to what Maeda said, are you?” The look on Yuka’s face was serious, a rarity for the usually genki girl. “Look, Maeda’s just jealous that you like Ryuji as well. Everybody knows she’s been chasing him, which is why she mentioned Kanzaki.”

Tsubasa didn’t know what to say about that. Kanzaki Akane was the school’s “goddess”, a sixteen-year-old girl with looks, money and charm. She had a part-time job as a model, and could get any guy in school that she chose; of course she chose to focus on the guy with the best looks and talent in the school. They were the perfect couple, which meant that any girl vying for the attentions of Ryuji, from Maeda to Tsubasa and who knew how many others, were completely left out in the cold.

As they approached an intersection, Yuka said, “Well, this is where we split, Tsu-chan. Talk to you later?”

Tsubasa smiled. “I don’t have to work tomorrow, so if you want to go shopping, we can.”

“That’d be great! We can go right after school, okay?” Yuka waved to her friend as she departed, leaving the pegasus to walk the rest of the way to her place.

“Otō-san, Okā-san, sorry I’m late!” Tsubasa said as she walked into her parents’ café in the Ginza a half-hour later. “There was a huge flock of birds I had to fly around to get here.”

Ueda Kyoko gave her daughter a smile. “That’s okay, dear. It’s been a slow day. Oh, and Martinez-san dropped off a package for you. She said she’ll be out of town for a couple of weeks, but that you really wanted this and you don’t have to worry about paying her back.” Kyoko pointed towards the corner, where a bag sat on a shelf festooned with Navy Exchange branding. There had been a cute blouse and skirt ensemble that Tsubasa had seen in a magazine once, but wasn’t able to find it in town. Fortunately, DJ had overheard and said it was on sale at the base store. The humanized pegasus had begged the humanized pony to pick it up for her; DJ had apparently done so and even made sure the ensemble had the appropriate wing and tail slots.

“And there’s my beautiful little girl,” Ueda Goro said from the kitchen. “How was school today?”

“The club is trying to raise money so we can go on a field trip, but nothing other than that,” she told her father. “Let me go get into my yukata and I’ll take care of the tables.”

“Not so fast, little bird,” Kyoko said to her daughter. “I need you to take this down the street to Kappabashi-san. She placed an order an hour ago and you know the poor dear is hardly mobile.”

“Oh.” Though she didn’t like to admit it to her parents, old Kappabashi-san scared her. When she was younger, she’d heard the old legends about kappabashi – Kappa Bridges – where kappa, water imps, used to attack and drown children in the river. And to Tsubasa, the old woman looked a lot like a kappa. Part of her wondered if kappas were as interested in eating foals as they were children. Then again, she was a teenager, so she could at least escape that part of the legend. Then again again….

“Tsubasa, are you okay?” Kyoko asked. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past few seconds.”

“Sorry, I was thinking about something. You wanted me to take something to Kappabashi-san?”

“Yes. The teakettle there and the cookies – she apparently is expecting company soon. Don’t take long, though: from the looks of things, it’s probably going to be a busy night.”

“Be careful out there, little bird,” Goro told his daughter. “Remember you’re precious to us.”

Tsubasa gave both her parents a smile, picked up the kettle and cookies, slid them into the delivery box, then put it on like a backpack and headed towards the door. Due to her natural magical field as a pegasus, she could fly completely upside down and the contents within the box would not be affected. And with the evening traffic picking up, it would be easier to fly the package over to the building. The minute she stepped outside of the café and a quick look left and right to avoid hitting any passersby, she unfurled her wings and shot into the air, coming to a quick stop just above the tops of the buildings, then headed forward.

It was in the air that she felt well and truly free, and partly where she’d picked up her parents’ pet name for her, kotori, “little bird”. She enjoyed flying and when doing so at night and armed with a camera, she’d taken some pretty amazing pictures, which was how she got into the Astronomy Club in the first place. Yoshida himself had said those were some of the most incredible photos he’d ever seen, and Yuka had complained about being utterly jealous of her friends’ talents. That was about the time she’d started to worry about not having gained a cutie mark, but to find out that DJ had gone her entire life without one, well, that made Tsubasa worry far less about it now.

A few seconds later, she began to descend towards the building in question. Far older than the other buildings in the area (especially considering that Tokyo was infamous for not having buildings of a considerable age save for the occasional landmark), the brick building stood out like an eyesore against its metal and concrete counterparts. While a bar took up the upper two floors of the three-story building, the main storefront was taken up by a shop that clearly looked like a traditional medicine store as done by the folks at Toho or Shochiku, likely more to be at home in Chinatown in Yokohama than here in central Tokyo.

Landing in front of the store, she went in, wading into a place that assaulted her senses with a dozen different distractions. Scents and aromas, various and unfamiliar, filled her nose; statues, bric-a-brac and various other items, many completely unfamiliar to her despite having lived in Japan since she was three. What she did not see, however, was the old woman who was the proprietor. “Hello? Kappabashi-san? I’m here from the Versailles Café. I’ve brought your order,” the pegasus called out, but no one was there.

After a few seconds of waiting, Tsubasa set down the pack, removing the tea kettle and cookies and set them down by the antiquated cash register. “Kappabashi-san? Are you here?” Now partly worried that something could have happened to the woman and half worried that something was about to happen to her, she walked into the back area behind the counter, looking for the woman, passing through the bamboo blind that separated the front part of the store from the back.

A second later, Tsubasa regretted walking back there. There were dozens of shelves, all filled with traditional Chinese medicines – which was a polite way of saying there were some freaky things back there. Dried spiders and scorpions, frogs and snakes embalmed in some fluid, dozens of herbs and plants she’d never seen before – wait, is that a skull? Suddenly Tsubasa felt very afraid as a shiver of fear crawled up her back and her wings tamped down, caught in the natural fear method of her equine ancestry. It took her a few seconds to remember that she lived amongst humans, and humans were never afraid of just being in weird spaces.

Then again, I’m Japanese and living in the land of ghosts, she thought, remembering her father’s ghost tales now and then. Plus, summer wasn’t that far away, and tradition stated that’s when ghosts were closest to the mortal world….

And that’s when she heard it. The sound. It echoed like a bell in the middle of a windtunnel. There was something seductive, alluring about it. It was enough to make Tsubasa forget her fears and walk towards the back of the storage room, past several spiderweb-covered shelves filled with countless things that could be worse, until she stopped at the very back, looking at a single shelving unit, upon the middle shelf sat the object that sang to her.

Sitting in a glass case on a base of beautiful shimmering silk, was a near-perfect sphere of cinnabar. It was “near-perfect” not because of the sphere itself, which was clearly a perfect orb, but the spikes of pure obsidian that jutted out from it at various intervals. The object glowed with a soft red hue, occasionally putting out a blast of soft energy that dissipated into the air; it was this last effect that caused the musical tone she was hearing.

Part of her wanted to touch it, and before she even realized what was going on, she began to extend her arm towards it, her right forehoof already shaping into the hand-like motions as her hoofspace did what came naturally.

“What are you doing here?” a crackling voice erupted from behind her and nature took its course: her wings rocketed out and pushed her upwards, so much so that she slammed headfirst into the ceiling, coming down painfully on the ground. Her vision swam and it took a few minutes for her to regain her footing…only to find herself staring straight at a monster.

“I asked you, young missie, what are you doing back here?” Kappabashi asked her as Tsubasa looked up at the aged human crone. There were more wrinkles in her face than those of her human grandparents or the elderly ponies that played with her in the orphanage back in Manehattan, and there seemed to be something unnatural about the human woman. Something primal in the back of her mind told her to run, as if she were facing something a horrific danger like a nue, or a mythical monster, like the tales of demonic oni or inhuman noppera-bō, or…

...or a kappa…

Calm down, Tsubasa – you’re letting imagination run away with you. Chastened by her own conscience, she took a breath and finally said, “I’m here from Café Versailles. I…uh, brought your order.”

“I know that; I heard you twice,” the woman said, impatient. “What I want to know is what you’re doing in my back storage?”

“I…when you didn’t answer the first two times, I thought something happened to you, so I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

The woman smiled briefly and that truly unnerved Tsubasa; the rictus seemed to split the woman’s face in two. “That’s very sweet of you, young missie, but remember, I’m an old lady and I can’t move as fast as I used to. But I would like to know why you were just about to touch the object.”

There was no way to lie convincingly, nor was Tsubasa that kind of girl, so she admitted, “It…called to me. I’m sorry, but I can’t explain it any further.” She got up and bowed, hoping to placate Kappabashi. “I’m sorry!”

The woman took out an old smoking pipe; it seemed to be a human enough action and if anything detracted from her creepiness. “Should’ve known. You’re from another world, a magical world, and so magic calls to magic.”

“That’s a magic object?” Other than her own innate pegasus talents, she’d lived on human-Earth for so long, magic was a distant memory. Sure, she’d seen a lot of human “magic”, but those were just prestidigitation and smoke and mirrors; against actual magic from other lands, most performers that once called themselves magicians were more likely to refer to themselves as “illusionists” or “masters of stagecraft.” In any case, true magic was nonexistent on human-Earth, so for her to see something like this…it was nothing less than amazing.

“Here.” The woman held out a bunch of yen. “Here’s for the order, thank you much. I’ll have my assistant return the tray and teapot after the meeting.” The woman then pointed to the door and told her, “I understand that coming from a world where true magic exists, you’re curious about it – being a winged creature, you might even have some yourself. But doors are sometimes closed for a reason, young missie – remember that.”

Tsubasa walked back to the café from the store, curiosity having taken form in her mind. She ended up distracted for the rest of the night, and when her parents finally asked if she was okay, she said that she was tired. The trio went home, had a quick dinner and after kissing her parents goodnight, Tsubasa went up to her room, heading straight for the computer in an attempt to satisfy her curiosity. But despite her best description of the object, she couldn’t find anything at all after an exhaustive search on the internet.

The next day, the less than awake pegasus could barely get up. Sleeping through the alarm, she had just enough time to change, throw herself in the shower, towel and blow-dry herself and her wings, throw on her clothing and race out of the house, stopping just long enough to kiss her parents good morning, grab one of her mother’s handmade pastries and run as fast as her hindlegs could carry her. She’d gotten to the usual location where she met Yuka, but suddenly she remembered her friend had safety monitor duty this morning, so Tsubasa was on her own.

As luck would have it, however, Yoshida just happened to be rushing by on his bike, apparently late as well. He stopped with a skid, turning to look at her and said, “You’re never going to make it unless you fly.”

“Wings are still damp and no way am I flying in a skirt,” she told him. “Plus,” she added with a yawn, “I didn’t sleep well last night, so I don’t want to crash into a tree.”

He pointed to the standpoints on the back of his bike. “Hop on, then.” She did, and he pushed harder as she held on, tucking her wings in more to prevent drag. “So, you didn’t sleep well last night?”

“Not really, no.” She went into an abbreviated explanation of yesterday’s events, leaving out the part about Kappabashi being a scary crone and being admonished about the object. “But it really called out to me. I dunno, maybe if I touched it, I’m supposed to get my talent symbol?”

“Uh, I don’t think that’s the case,” Yoshida said as he rounded a corner tightly onto the street leading towards the school; Tsubasa increased her grip on his shirt so she wouldn’t fall off. “I think it’s a genderstone.”

“A what?” she asked.

“A genderstone. You see, I’ve….” He paused for a second, though she couldn’t see the look on his face – what was he thinking? “Well, the study of magic – real magic, not stagecraft – has been a personal hobby, and from what you described, that sounds like a genderstone.” The pair zipped through the gates just as the school principal started to close them; a few students were caught on the other side and would have to serve detention or some other punishment for being officially tardy, though that was their problem.

“What’s a genderstone?”

To her surprise, he blushed. “Ah…eto…I think you’re best looking that up yourself. Wouldn’t want you to get the wrong idea.” His embarrassment and disinclination to explain what it meant made it clear: it was probably something hentai. Normally, she would have chewed him out for that, but he did give her a ride in, so she blurted a quick thanks and raced off to her locker to prep for the school day.

As she did, she found Yuka there, slipping on her sandals for the day. “So, changed your mind about Ryuji-kun, huh? Well, I’ve known Yoshida-kun since we were in kindergarten, and he’s a nice guy, so—” Yuka said nothing further as she was playfully slapped by Tsubasa’s wing, getting a face full of feathers in an instant.

“You just like giving me grief, don’t you?”

Yuka grinned. “Somebody’s gotta.”

After classes ended for the day, four girls departed the schoolgrounds, headed towards the nearest stop on the Tokyo subway. It was Tsubasa’s day off from work and the four friends were about to enjoy time together.

Saito Riho adjusted her glasses. “I’m jealous of you, Yuka-chan! How do you manage to walk with perfect poise like that? You’re like a model or something!”

Kaneko Junko, the tomboy of the group, laughed heartily and clapped Riho on the back hard enough to nearly knock her glasses off. “Maybe if you tried to get your head out of your books, you megane, you could work on something other than being slouched over a desk!”

Riho was about to say something when a pink wing unfurled between her and Junko. “Girls, c’mon, I want to have fun today, okay? There’s this new chocolate shop at DECKS that I want to try, and then I heard they’re opening a new store there as well that we’ve just gotta check out!”

“Well, sure, of course, Tsu-chan – but you’re paying for the chocolate!” In turn, the pegasus scrunched her face into a frown and the others laughed.

The ride on the rails was a rather quiet affair; normally they’d have problems with chikan – various men wanting to grope the nubile bodies of young schoolgirls. Unfortunately for them, the first few times met with a slap on the wrist from Tsubasa’s tail or in one particular case, an “accidental” unfurling of her wing which knocked one perv off his feet. Shortly after that, pervs generally didn’t try anything like that in the presence of the pony, and Tsubasa’s friends knew they could enjoy the train ride in peace.

“So, how are things going with you and Sonoda-san, Junko?” Yuka asked.

The tea-haired girl sighed. “Tetsuo left for France last week. He’ll be studying at the Sorbonne for the next four years, so I guess that’s the end of our relationship. I wouldn’t be surprised if I got a letter from him in the next couple of months saying he’s dumping me for some Vietnamese-French cutie.”

“Maybe he’ll get with Takahashi Ai, instead,” Riho said in an attempt to be helpful, eliciting a groan from both Yuka and Tsubasa as to how their brainy friend could be so dumb at times. Takahashi Ai was an actress known for her beauty and gracing many a poster in a boy’s bedroom. Three years ago she’d made a film in Paris, and decided to stay there, much to the chagrin of every single male in Japan.

“You’re not helping, Riho-chan,” Tsubasa said, using her wings for a facepalm.

“That’s okay, I get that she’s not smart all the time,” Junko snarked. “But it makes me think: are we always going to be friends forever? I mean, in a few years, we’ll all be headed out to college. I know I’m not very bright, so it’s off to the Shinagawa Beauty College in Meguro for me. But you’re all so much better students than me! I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if Riho here got into Tōdai or Waseda in a heartbeat!”

“Eh, I have my heart on a better school, something overseas like Harvard in America or Oxford in England. If I don’t get into either of those, then I’ll apply to Tōdai or Waseda as a back-up plan.” Her confidence was strong enough that it was clear that she’d get into either of those schools with no difficulty whatsoever. “What about you, Yuka?”

Yuka grunted. “Doesn’t matter what I want. Family tradition is that the oldest granddaughter always goes to Dōshisha down in Kyoto. Since that’s me, it doesn’t matter if I get into Tōdai or Waseda or Yale – Dōdai is where I get to go,” she said, glumly. “But at least you all get choices. Y’know, I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned where you’re planning to go, Tsu-chan.”

The pegasus looked even less pleased. “My parents insist that I never forget about my heritage as a pony, so they want me to go to an Equestriani university like the Royal Canterlot University or the University of Los Pegasas. Personally, I’d rather attend Meiji or St. Paul’s. They’d be close to home and I wouldn’t have to worry about my parents spending any more money.”

“That’s sweet, Tsu-chan,” Yuka said, “but you need to start looking out for what’s best for you in life. We won’t always live with our parents forever – I mean, just because our parents’ generation did, and the ones before that and all….” Yuka at this point quieted down, figuring she wasn’t going to make her point with that line of reasoning. Instead, she asked her friend the obvious question: “What’s the best way to make you happy?”

The pegasus instantly gushed, “Being with Ryuji-kun.” It was so girly and…well, human…that every adult in the railcar seemed to look at her with the understanding and nostalgia of young love.

“Then I want you to picture this,” Yuka said, putting an arm around her friend and gesticulating to a point in the distance – the shopping mall, just a few streets away – just as the train was coming to a stop at Tokyo Ginza station. “You and Ryuji-san, walking arm in arm down the Ginza on a winter day, the snowflakes falling on you both in a symphony of love. It’s just like that movie we saw last week, remember? You and Ryuji-san will be just like Haruka and Kenji in the movie, I promise.”

Tsubasa looked in the direction her friend was pointing and tried hard not to break down at that moment, but instead cursed the fact that she was a pony. Her eyes – well, any pony’s eyes, but especially pegasus eyes – could see far better than that of humans. And what she saw there shattered her heart instantly: there were Ryuji and Kanzaki, arm in arm. And it took all her willpower to prevent her heart from breaking as the two kissed, punctuated by the dancing fountain behind them going off in a cascade of romance.

She stood there for so long, Yuka had to practically pull her out of the train before the train doors closed on her. “Tsu-chan? Hello? Are you okay?”

The look the lovelorn pegasus gave her friend was an answer in and of itself.

Later that night, Tsubasa was back at the computer. She was already completely disconsolate from what she’d seen earlier; Yuka and the others had finally coaxed it out of her and they felt horrible the moment they did. The lone consolation prize in all of that was that Junko ended up buying the chocolate since she wanted to cheer up her winged friend. So instead the four spent the day on “Operation Let’s Cheering!”, designed to bring a smile back on Tsubasa’s face. The rest of the time was spent in lousy karaoke – Tsubasa was never really a good singer – Dance Dance Symphony VR, and having a nice dinner together at the Italian trattoria at DECKS, the place having been recommended by Nicole-sempai, the American journalist who often had lunch at her parents’ café.

The rest of the night proved why they’d all be friends forever, always looking out for each other through thick and thin. Tsubasa smiled at that; she was blessed with so much: friends, family, a life that no other filly could imagine. She was, in nearly every way, shape and form a typical Japanese girl. She had a wonderful future that to look forward to, and since she was growing up as a pony on Human-Earth in a human manner, she could choose to be bound by the rules of her cutie mark or she could forge her own path, just like her mentor.

So why was something nagging her in the back of her mind? A few seconds later, the answer came to her, and it was rather surprising: It’s that “genderstone”, as Yoshida called it, she remembered. She was about to start another search for the object, when an email came up:

TO: “UEDA Tsubasa” littlebird@princessmail.co.jp
FROM: “SAITO Riho” sai2riri@princessmail.co.jp

SUBJ: Did you hear?

Tsu-chan,
Just got some amazing news that I heard from Imae-san. Yes, I know she’s the school blabbermouth, so take this as you will, but…Ryuji and Kanzaki broke up! Supposedly he spotted her with a college student and they had a public fight, so he called it quits with her. Now’s your chance! You know we’re all rooting for you! Do your best!

Take care,
Riho!

Tsubasa sat back, shocked at the news. Ryuji-kun’s single…. Ryuji-kun’s single! She happily fist pumped in her chair while whispering “Lucky Chance!” and whinnying in delight. But that still didn’t solve the question in her mind. So into browsing she dived, searching for results for ジェンダーストーン several hours, only to come up with nothing – nothing on Wikipedia, nothing on Yahoo! Japan or even Baidu Nippon. She even went so far as to brave the wilds of 2CH, but enough taunts requested naked pegasus pictures, she gave up on that rather quickly.

By this time, someone else would have just given up. But fortunately for Tsubasa, she was stuck with obsession and blessed with an alternative method of searching: being born in a different country, her parents insisted that she remain fluent in Equestriani; that is, Equestriani English. So after a quick reboot of the computer with her prize Derptech Ergoflow hoofboard now installed, she began searching in English.

It didn’t take long to find the answer she was looking for. The English Wikipedia site had the information – what little there was of it, regarding the “Genderstone”, which was a redirect to “Amniomorphic Transferrence Stone,” the technical name of the object. It turned out to be a pony magical artifact charged with Star Swirl the Bearded’s Amniomorphic Spell, heavily modified by a team at the Mage Guild. The stone allowed a pegasus or earth pony, as unicorns with level one spell training didn’t need it, to activate the spell. The results allowed the user to turn into another type of sapient being for up to twelve hours. The first known use of the spell had allowed its user, an earth pony, to change into a human woman in order to conceive a child with her human husband. The child, Stuart Charles Hengst, was born eleven months later, the first human chimera. The rest of the article went into the properties of the spell, the type of gemstones and precious minerals that could be used to fashion such a stone and research by dragons to create a similar spell to work on draconid physiology. By this point, she’d completely tuned out the rest of the article, her curiosity satisfied.

So DJ-sempai has a magic stone that she used to have her sons. I wonder why she never mentioned it. The answer came back immediately: it had just never come up in conversation, though in hindsight it should have been obvious. No longer worried about the stone, she turned off her computer and went to get some sleep, wondering what she would do about her real problem now: confessing to Ryuji.

She slept soundly that night, dreaming of being arm in arm with her beloved, walking in a winter paradise.

“I’m sorry,” Ryuji said as he bowed fully towards Tsubasa. “I just…I just don’t think of you in that way. I’m sure you’re a nice girl, but I’m not attracted to umajin.”

Her eyes burning with sorrow, Tsubasa launched herself in the air to get away, not caring who, if anyone, looked up. Tears streamed away from her eyes as she sobbed, her heart broken. She’d waited the week for other girls, including Maeda and a few others, to get shot down by the now very much in demand Ryuji. By Thursday, no girl had captured his heart, and all of Tsubasa’s friends encouraged her to take a chance. How cruel, then, was fate: to think he’d turned down all those girls in the hopes that she would be able to win his affections, only to be dashed by that very same smile that had turned down others.

It was bad enough that she’d skipped meeting with her friends right after and instead sat atop the janitor’s office at the top of the school. Someone had been here previously, the remains of someone’s lunch and an old-style print magazine; the magazine’s cover story was likely about fashion in Equestria and how it translated to the human world; the cover model was an older unicorn mare with a white coat and violet hair sporting a nightgown that in other circumstances the pegasus would have found interesting. Instead, Tsubasa just pushed the stuff out of the way; she wanted to be alone with her grief.

“Funny, I didn’t expect to see you here.” Tsubasa looked up and saw Yoshida, having just climbed up the ladder on the side of the structure. Noting that she was crying, he reached into his pocket for tissues. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, for a girl that had her heart broken,” she said, taking the tissues with gratitude. “What are you doing here?”

He grinned. “This is my special spot for seeing the stars. Usually I come here at nights with the school’s permission to look at the stars, but sometimes I just come when I want to be alone.” He looked at her and said, “I guess you do as well. I’ll just come back later, or I can find Matsuzaka-san, if you’d like.”

“Thank you,” she sobbed, wiping her eyes with the tissue.

Yoshida climbed down the ladder, but not before saying, “Sometimes, all isn’t lost. Sometimes…you have to realize there are just other ways to make yourself happy.” Tsubasa wasn’t sure who he was talking to or if he was saying anything of importance, but the words embedded themselves in her mind, refusing to let go.

He…he doesn’t like me because I’m umajin. Umajin, “horse-person”, the Japanese word for a pony. Because she had hooves and not hands and feet. Because she had a muzzle and not a distinct mouth and nose. Because her ears were weird, because of her useless tail and pointless wings, because she had fur all over her body.

Maybe if I were a person he could hold and kiss, he’d love me, she mourned. Maybe if I were a person….

Maybe if I were a human….

Suddenly, it clicked.

The Genderstone…it transforms ponies for a short time. Maybe I can transform myself temporarily until I win Ryuji-kun’s heart, and when he finally loves me, he’ll accept me as who I really am, just like Cinderella!

The teen mare smiled; it was perfect.

A few minutes later, Yuka came racing up the ladder. “Tsu-chan, have you been here all this time? We’ve been worried about you!” Yuka went up and hugged her friend, pointing down at the fenced-off area below. “C’mon, let’s get out of here and go do something. We’re all with you, okay?”

The pink pegasus smiled softly and said, “Thanks, Yuka-chan. But I need a favor.”

“Of course, anything.”

“I need to borrow some of your clothing, okay? Oh, and those blue contact lenses you have.”

Yuka looked at her friend strangely. “Look, I know we have the same tastes in clothing, but don’t you usually need something with, uh, tail and wing slots? And…well, your eyes are a lot bigger than mine, so I don’t know if the contacts will fit.”

“Trust me, I’ll tell you about it later,” Tsubasa said, a small smile coming onto her face. “I’ve got a plan.”

“Kappabashi-san? I’m here from Versailles Café!” Tsubasa came into the store the next day, carrying her transport case. “You’ve won our monthly drawing for a catered tea session, and I’m here to deliver it!” It was a lie of sorts: Kappabashi had won the monthly drawing because it was the first monthly drawing they’d ever had; Tsubasa’s parents had long thought about doing so as a form of marketing the café but much to their surprise when their daughter had taken the initiative to do so, selecting the old woman first and offering to put the news out about the next month’s drawing out to their regular customers afterwards. It was a pleasant surprise to both her parents, both of which were all too happy to agree.

And now here Tsubasa was, in the “winner’s” store, when in truth the proprietor was about to become a very big loser: minus one magical artifact. Part of her wanted her to turn tail and head right back out the door, but this was her only chance, she realized. If she wanted Ryuji, then she would have to take Yoshida’s advice and find another way to make herself happy. And the only way to do that was to get her hands on the genderstone here in the store. She knew of no other real way to get one.

But…stealing was never right, and she could get in serious trouble for it, she argued with herself. She could embarrass her parents, mortify her friends…and Ryuji-kun? Forget it, he’d never date her then.

But I have to try, she reasoned.

Why not buy it? her conscience asked her.

Because she already knows I was interested in it, so she’ll charge me a fortune! Although Tsubasa was diligent about saving her allowance when she got it, she didn’t have the millions of yen lying in a bank account that she was sure Kappabashi would demand as the price. Or worse, if she knows what it’s for, she’ll tell my parents and then they’ll wonder why I need a genderstone! After all, the ultimate purpose of a genderstone was for compatibility between ponies and other species when desiring children. Even if that wasn’t Tsubasa’s intent, her parents were very protective of her and might wonder why their only daughter needed such a potentially dangerous item.

She shook her head, forcibly ignoring the voice in the back of her head even as that same voice screamed that every one of the dozens of reasons why this was incredibly wrong and not the path to take. And only one reason why to do so – one reason that outweighed all the others.

“Kappabashi-san!” Tsubasa called one more time, waiting patiently for an answer before going off into the back area. It was then that she chose to stride into the back area, hoping against hope that the old lady wasn’t there. She’d walked through half the shelves when she felt something rustle against her back. She yelped in fright, and it took every bit of her nerves to ensure that her flight instinct didn’t take over. Instead, she turned around to face what was looking at her.

A reedy man stood there, his face partially obscured by a strange beaked mask. He looked wan and emaciated, as if breathing on him would slap him in two. With his mask on, he could easily be a noppera-bō in disguise, if not something worse. But instead of looming over her or silently promising violence on her person, he merely stood there, as if a robot awaiting a command.

Tsubasa calmed down, but not by much. “Ah, eto…are you Kappabashi-san’s assistant?” The masked man merely nodded yes, once, then looked at her, awaiting her continuation. There was something about him that seemed unnatural, but then again, there seemed nothing really natural about this shop – and considering she was born on another world, that unnatural definition could extend to her as well. Finally, she said, “I’m from Versailles Café down the street. Kappabashi-san won our monthly drawing for a catered tea service. Since I know she’s elderly, we brought it to her. Is there a place I could put it down?”

The man pointed to a table just across from where he was standing. To Tsubasa’s confusion, she hadn’t noticed it until the moment he’d gestured towards it – almost as if it were conjured out of thin air. Magic. Fortunately, Tsubasa knew that to be impossible; humans didn’t have magic – it was one of the defining characteristics of her adoptive species and one of the reasons they were so technologically adroit.

She looked at the table, then said, “I’ll just set it over here. Will that be acceptable?” He nodded and she took off the pack, setting it on the table and unloaded its contents, a large container of tea and a bunch of cookies. She did quickly, then turned to ask the man something again…only to find that he’d disappeared.

Creepy.

But in any case, this was her chance. Bolting as fast as she could, she raced over to the far counter and grabbed the case holding the genderstone. She tossed it into the delivery box and was just strapping it to her back when Kappabashi-san came in. “I thought I told you not to come back here,” the elderly woman said without fanfare or hellos.

Tsubasa bowed deeply. “Ma’am, you’ve won our monthly drawing for a catered tea set. I dropped it off just a few minutes ago and your assistant asked me to place it here.”

Kappabashi was quiet for the longest time, just looking at Tsubasa, trying to discern truth – or perhaps something else – from the pegasus’ purple eyes. The two stood there like that for an uncomfortable time before that unnerving smile broke out onto the crone’s face. “He did, did he? Well, that’s very nice of you to do so, thank you very much.”

“Well, I gotta get going,” she said, her voice trilling from nervousness. “We hope to see you around the café soon!” With that, she bolted out of the store and immediately took to wing, nearly hitting two people as she unfurled them – it was extremely rude on her part, but a thief always fled the scene.

She rocketed down the street towards an office building that usually bought lots of coffee from the store – she did promise her parents she’d do the notification after all – and began her rounds; afterwards, she would have to get a hold of her friends and have them all meet at one of their houses so she could tell them all about her plan and get their help in pulling off the plan of her dreams, and Tsubasa could start wooing the heart of her beloved Ryuji-kun.

And hopefully by the time all of that went on, Kappabashi-san wouldn’t notice the item was missing.

It was evening when the theft was discovered. The old woman and her assistant stood in front of the empty shelf, the only marks on it being the dust-free area where the case had sat and a slightly cleaned section that looked like a duster had briefly been dragged across the surface. The “duster” was clear as to who had done it.

Kappabashi looked at her assistant; though he said nothing, his posture indicated that he was very sorry for what occurred. “That’s alright,” she said, patting him on the arm, “I hadn’t expected her to be so deceitful, either. A shame: I had really expected her to be better than her peers due to her nature and upbringing.”

The assistant looked at her, silent yet somehow communicating something. In reply, the old woman shook her head and gave him a smile. Normally that rictus would be seen as unnerving, but now there was something outright alien and inhuman about it. “There’s nothing to worry about. This will all sort itself in time. Unfortunately for her.”

化け物, 第2章

“So, this is it,” Yuka said, looking at the weird stone. “Are you sure this is going to work?”

Riho adjusted her glasses, looking at the webpages Tsubasa had brought up on the computer; during the course of the couple of days since she’d acquired the stone, she’d read other pages on it, listing duration, side effects and the like, which she immediately showed to her brainy friend for a second opinion. Like the pegasus, Riho was knowledgeable in English, though not to the degree Tsubasa was, so it had taken her a little bit longer to read the article. “If I didn’t read this page and look at that item, I’d swear all this talk of magic was nonsense.”

“Even with me here?” Tsubasa asked.

“Tsu-chan, no offense, but there’s nothing really magical about you,” Junko said. They were all currently at her home, as her father was a salaryman married to his job and her mother had passed away years ago, leaving Junko to be raised mostly by an older sister that had married and left home last year. “I mean, yeah, you come from a land of magic, but you’re not really magical, if that makes sense. I mean, you have that magi…oh, never mind.”

“Well, magic or not, I know this much: the team is practicing late tonight and won’t be leaving for home until ten this evening. If we have Tsubasa wait for Ryuji in the park just outside the school, the one where the old cherry tree is, it’s sure to win his heart!”

“Oh, I know that one,” Junko said, clapping her hands in excitement. “I’ve made ou…I mean, I met Tetsuo there plenty of times!”

“I’ll bet,” Yuka interjected, giving her friend a knowing glance.

“Well, you’d better do it soon if we’re going to make sure we get something that’ll fit you,” Riho said.

“Well, if you’re ready,” Yuka asked, handing Tsubasa the case.

Tsubasa opened the case, grabbed the sphere and closed her eyes, focusing on her desire to become human, just as the instructions said on one of the pages she’d found. The genderstone began to glow with a brilliant vermilion shade.

And then she exploded, her clothing blasted into shreds, bombarding every inch of the room in fabric. The three remaining girls suddenly screamed, but dozens of motes of lights appeared, encircling the room like a universe in miniature. The sparks then converged on a single location, where the assumed a human form, and a second later a girl fell to the ground, dizzy.

As she got up, her friends took stock of Tsubasa’s new appearance: lithe, fair skin and clearly of Japanese stock, with long white hair and the same lilac eyes, now only in human form. She was also completely exposed to the world as a newborn would be – which she was, in a sense.

It was Junko who spoke first, after a couple of seconds. “How do you feel?”

“Odd,” Tsubasa said, uneasily getting to her feet for the first time, then looking at herself in a mirror. She looked good, like a teen pop starlet, definitely a match for Kanzaki Akane herself. “But I think I look good.”

“Look good?” The look on Yuka’s face was priceless. “Tsu-chan, as a human you’ve got a better body than me! Ugh, I feel so jealous!”

A few minutes later, it was settled; though the other human girls had brought some clothing of their size, Tsubasa fit Junko’s clothing best, so the now temporarily ex-pegasus borrowed a sky-blue yukata and silvery-white obi, as Junko braided Tsubasa’s hair and did her make up. “Now remember, don’t stay out too long. We don’t know how long this spell is going to last since the pages say it depends on the individual’s natural magic,” Riho warned.

“Actually, this sounds kinda funny,” Tsubasa said, “but I can see a timer in the top right of my vision, like I’m wearing VR glasses. Weird.”

“Weird or not, Tsu-chan, we’ll be rooting for you! Now go out there and win your guy!” Yuka said, as the others ushered the newly-minted human out the door and towards her destiny.

His baseball bat over his shoulder, Ryuji Daisuke walked home, tired but grinning happily. The coach had worn them out with today’s practice, but with each day that came, they were getting ready for the Spring Kōshien, the tournament of tournaments. Being the team’s star pitcher, he was sure that his team would climb to the top of the mountain of teams participating and defeat Tokaidai Sagami High, considered this year’s team to beat. He was so sure of it, that nothing would rob his focus of winning the tournament.

And then his breath went away.

Sitting by the pristine pink of the old cherry tree, drenched in the light of a lamppost and what appeared to be a slight halo effect from the lamplight and the reflection off the sakura petals, a beautiful young woman with silvery-white hair sat there, casually looking at the tree. As he approached, he noted beautiful blue eyes and fair skin. Something about her took his breath away; she was hypnotic, alluring.

She looked at him slightly, blushing. Brushing a lock of hair behind her ears, she looked at him and smiled. “Good evening, Ryuji-kun,” she said in a musical voice that wove its way into his soul.

“Who…are you?” he asked.

“Someone you know,” she said, enigmatically.

“I don’t know anyone as beautiful as you,” he said, despite himself. He was utterly bewitched by the beauty seated on the bench. “What’s your name?”

“Umō Kibō,” she said, off-handedly. And it was her name…well, sorta: it was a Japanese translation of her birth name, Featherwishes. She’d been given her human name after her mother’s mother, and in English variations of her Japanese legal name it came up as Tsubasa F. Ueda, a middle name being rare for Japanese.

“Umō…Kibō,” he said, as if tasting the name itself. “That’s an unusual name.”

“I’m…an unusual girl,” she replied; no truer statement could be made.

“So, Umō-san, do you live around here?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I came out here looking for you,” she said, sweetly.

Watching from the other side of the park and hidden behind some bushes, Yuka and the others were sitting there, trying their hardest not to laugh. At Riho’s suggestion, they placed a button-sized remote microphone in the inside of the yukata, so they could cheer their friend on. What they heard, the trio agreed, was a comedy of errors.

“Wow, has she been reading too many shōjō manga,” Junko said, covering her mouth before she erupted into raucous giggling.

“Didn’t we hear that last line in the last episode of Love Love Trouble?” Riho laughed.

“Aw, c’mon, you two! Let the poor girl have her chance!” Yuka scolded her friends. “Although…it is kinda over the top.”

The trio watched their friend as she continued to capture the attention of her would-be boyfriend.

The next day, the school was buzzing with the news that a new girl had captured the heart of Ryuji Daisuke. Some said that she was a student here at Tamagawa Mikami High, while others said she attended any of a number of different schools in the area. One person even went so far as to theorize that she was the spirit of the cherry tree itself, desiring love and a perfect boyfriend so that she could live as a human. Regardless, it was clear that practically overnight Ryuji’s heart was no longer quite his own, having been commandeered by the mysterious girl.

A second rumor also started about Kanzaki Akane. Since the rumored run-in between her, Ryuji and the “college student”, she hadn’t been to school. Of course, that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, since when she had photo shoots she often made the schoolwork up on the road. But she hadn’t spoken to her close circle of friends, and one of those was the older sister of Imae Etsuko, the school’s blabbermouth. Imae had been the one spreading the rumor that Kanzaki was now so distraught at losing Ryuji, that it might even affect her looks.

None of this, of course, mattered to Tsubasa. She was too exhausted and sore to worry about any of that. Barely able to stay awake and feeling like she’d just flown through fifteen straight hours of strong headwinds, she’d almost contemplated not going to school that morning had it not been for the fact that she’d spent the night at Junko’s place. And somehow she’d managed to make it through the morning classes, and now the four were at lunch, seated in their usual location by the gym.

“So – how’d it go?” Yuka finally said, pestering her friend for details. “Did he promise his everlasting love? Did you kiss? Did he tell you that you were his ‘Forever Rose’?”

Junko, however, was a little more observant. “You don’t look so good.”

“I feel like a trainwreck,” Tsubasa admitted. “I feel like I could sleep all day.”

“Well, the page at Modern Magic did say that the side effects could include that,” Riho reminded her. “Just let it rest for a couple of days and then you can use it again. Besides, it’ll give Ryuji-san time to think about you.”

“Yeah, that’s really what you want,” Yuka agreed.

The pitch followed a slow, lazy arc, the kind that could have been hit by a six-year-old with a plastic toy bat, only to lazily flop into the catcher’s mitt. “Hey, Daisuke, you’re really off your game today. It true what they said about you?”

Ryuji looked at his best friend, who was also the team’s catcher. “Which part, Koji?”

Koji gave his friend a grin as he threw the ball back. “Well, not the part about you falling in love with a cherry tree spirit, of course. But do you know who the girl is?”

Ryuji shook his head to answer the question before putting a fastball right down the center. “No, but she claims to be a student here,” he added after. “But I think a girl with white hair would stand out – hell, even the kids with just light brown chapatsu hair stand out.”

“Well, there is one girl with white hair,” Koji noted.

Ryuji rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that umajin girl. Hey, you want her? All you, man – she’s not my type. I prefer my girls RL, not some kemono weirdo.”

“Well, there’s always Kanzaki-chan.”

“Man, I don’t think you understand: I ran into her kissing that college guy – she’s been two-timing me all this time while she sets herself up nicely with some Waseda guy that’d be good for her future prospects. Sorry, I ain’t a stepping stone for anyone.”

“Then what about this girl you were talking to yesterday?”

“Umō-san?” The look in Ryuji’s eyes went misty and far away. “She…she captivated me. I…don’t know how else to say it, but it was like I was bewitched or something. Now she’s a girl worth having. And trust me, if I find a way, I’m gonna make her mine.”

Tsubasa gazed at Ryuji from afar through the window of the Astronomy Club’s room. Her heart ached to be with him…but not just yet. No, she had to win him first as Umō Kibō before she could reveal her true self to him. So as hard as it was, she forced herself to turn away. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Yuka nodding at her in slight approval; obviously her friend knew how hard this was.

Yoshida looked at everyone in the room and asked, “Are we ready to start?” There were no objections, so he continued. “First off, as the Vice President of the Astronomy Club, I’d like to thank you all for coming to today’s meeting. Secondly, I have bad news for you all: Maeda-san, our club president, has resigned from the club effective immediately. As the vice president, I’ll be taking over the presidency, and the treasurer will take the vice president spot. But we’re looking for someone to step up and become the new treasurer. Would anyone care to?”

Sitting next to Yuka, Tsubasa whispered, “Maeda-san resigned?”

Yuka nodded her head. “Not just her – if you’ll notice, half the girls in the club are now gone, too. Apparently those that left used the room for one reason only: to watch Ryuji practice from here.” Hearing her words, Tsubasa winced; while she knew her friend wasn’t talking about her, it made the pegasus wonder: had she been human, would she have joined Maeda and the rest, leaving the club because she stood no chance against the “mystery girl” who now owned his heart?

Meanwhile, Yoshida had just elected a new treasurer, a mousy girl who, like Tsubasa and Yuka, actually wanted to be present. “Well, that’s done and thanks to Saotome-san for stepping up to be our new treasurer.” There was a small round of applause, which died down as Yoshida then asked, “So, what would we like to talk about today.”

“Let’s talk about Subaru!” one guy in the back said, a huge grin on his face.

Yoshida adjusted his glasses. “Didn’t we discuss the Pleiades last week?” he replied, using the foreign name for the Subaru star cluster.

“No, you dork, we’re talking about that mystery babe that Ryuji Daisuke thinks he’s going to get his hands on!” the guy crowed; apparently someone had given the mystery girl the sobriquet of Subaru and that stuck.

“I heard she’s a student over at Holy Cross – you know the all-girls’ Catholic school down in Ōta?” one guy said.

“Naaah, can’t be right. I got a cousin, says she attends Furinkan High over in Nerima,” a second guy did.

“Furinkan?” A third guy shook his head. “Oda-kun, you’ve been reading too much manga – just because there’s a school there by the same name….” The guy laughed. “Seriously, though – I heard she’s actually the daughter of the Chinese ambassador and she attends the American Private School in Akasaka.”

Suddenly dozens of guys started spouting hundreds of ideas, combined with the few remaining girls in the club somewhere between angry at being upstaged by this mysterious newcomer or just hoping that things would get back to normal. As for Tsubasa and Yuka, the two looked helplessly at each other, wondering if they’d created some kind of monster.

“Tsu-chan, you created a monster,” Riho said, just after school. “I think you need to let this all die down for a couple of days before you try to meet with Ryuji-san again.”

“Are you kidding?” Junko interjected. “This so-called ‘Subaru’ is the talk of the school! I had one guy in my class begging me if I had any information on Subaru. Not that I was going to tell him, of course, since I doubt he’d believe me anyway. But you’re a star, Tsubasa! You’re the school goddess now, not Kanzaki!”

Tsubasa blushed furiously at that. Me? The school goddess? The girl every guy wants?

Yuka immediately stopped and got in front of her friend. “Back to Earth, Maetel. Everyone wants Subaru – the mystery girl, not you, Tsu-chan. And isn’t this all about winning Ryuji’s heart, not the spot of school goddess?”

“I know,” Tsubasa said. “It’s just…wow….”

“Yeah, I know,” Yuka replied.

As they walked past the park, there were dozens of guys – mostly from the photography club – setting up cameras. It was as clear what they wanted to do as it was cliché – they intended to take pictures of Subaru and sell them to the “less fortunate”, the guys willing to pay money for pics of the new school diva. Tsubasa saw that and then suddenly had a very different image of what it was like to be the school goddess. Now she didn’t envy Kanzaki anymore; not that she really did, but she was definitely in the other girl’s shoes now.

“Don’t let it get you down, Tsu-chan,” Yuka said, putting an arm around her friend. “Just get some sleep, ignore these morons, and in a couple of days, you’ll be able to woo your beau once more.”

“Little bird, are you feeling okay?” Kyoko asked her daughter that night at dinner. “You haven’t eaten much.”

Tsubasa brushed her hair out of her eyes, hoping she didn’t look too exhausted. “Just tired, Okā-san. Long day at school.”

“I can imagine.” Goro looked at his daughter and smiled. “I was talking to one of your teachers today – he just happened to come by the café for a coffee just before we were closing for the day and he mentioned the school’s going wild over some new girl there and it was making the other girls jealous.”

Tsubasa nodded. “Not me, Otō-san. I’m…happy with who I am,” she said, hoping it sounded convincing.

“That’s good to know. I know it’s hard sometimes growing up with people who are different from you, but if Martinez-san can do it, then I know that my little girl can and can do it better.”

“Thanks,” she said, smiling. If nothing else, she knew she had her parents’ love. The rest of the time was spent eating dinner quietly, doing homework, playing some games on her phone, then going to bed early. She was exhausted beyond compare and she could certainly use the rest.

So it was at ten in the evening that she’d found herself in bed, tossing and turning uneasily. Finally, she opened her eyes. She wasn’t sleeping because she felt so suddenly fatigued. But she’d been in bed for an hour now and usually she fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. Not today, however. After a few more minutes of lying there, staring at the Hello Kitty glowstickers on the ceiling, she dragged herself out of bed. She couldn’t sleep.

Walking over to the TV, she clicked it on. She’d downloaded the latest episodes of Love Love Trouble and Usagi Racer Umi the other day and hadn’t had a chance to watch them; maybe if she sat down and ran a couple, she’d finally get tired. She was powering up her computer to run the episodes when there was a sound, as clear as a bell, calling out to her.

She turned her head. The Genderstone glowed, a warm inviting hue. Something about her reached out to it, picked it up in her hands, the hoofspace settling around the spiky ball. As she did, she felt refreshed. Invigorated. Relaxed.

Divine.

“Looks like you got stood up, Daisuke!” Koji sat on the bench next to his friend. He, like dozens of others from the school, sat by the cherry tree, awaiting the arrival of the goddess Subaru. “Knew she was too good for you, man!”

Ryuji looked at his friend. “For one, you’ve never met her. Second, her name isn’t Subaru, it’s—”

“‘Subaru’ will suffice,” a voice said. Every boy in the area turned around and saw the girl walking towards them. Every jaw owned by a male metaphorically hit the floor as she seemed to glow in the rising moonlight, sauntering forth, wearing a cute camisole and skirt that accented her legs and frame. She walked up to him and, without without further ado, kissed him, and he soon joined in. After several passionate seconds, she pulled away from him, leaving him gasping for breath like a newborn tasting the first gasp of oxygen. As trite as it sounded, she’d taken his breath away.

“Will…will….” Ryuji was speechless. He had never felt this way about any girl, ever. Kanzaki? She was nothing compared to this perfect beauty before him. And the angel before him stood, his Subaru, taking up all of his everything. He couldn’t focus. All he could see was her, all he could feel was her. And with that notion, he knew had to make her his; they were destined to be together.

She sauntered up to him and whispered in his ear, “You want me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he said, absently, knowing only one thing: that he would give anything, do anything for her.

So in turn, she went up to his best friend and kissed him just as potently. As she broke the kiss, she whispered to Koji, “I’d like to see which one of you wants me more,” she whispered.

In turn, Ryuji flared with an uncontrollable rage. “Hey, Koji, what the hell ya doing with my girlfriend?”

“Your girlfriend?” his friend snarled. “It’s clear Subaru-chan wants me!”

“Then what about Imagawa, huh? Ya gonna dump her?” Ryuji’s fists clenched with rage. Best friend or not, no way was Koji going to take Subaru from him….

“You can have her.” He brought a hand around Subaru’s waist and said, “I got all I need right here.”

“No, ‘cause you need this!” Ryuji immediately took a swing at Koji, connecting with his face and sending him staggering back. In turn, Koji rushed and tackled his friend and the two started beating each other senseless, as though they’d had a lifetime of enmity against the other. Subaru merely walked away from both guys and towards another, saying, “Boys,” as if she were amused by what was occurring.

“Hey, what’s going on?” the boy she approached asked.

In turn, she wrapped an arm around his head and whispered close to him, “They’re trying to take me from you. Don’t let them,” before kissing him with as much intensity as she had the other two. As she stopped, the boy looked at her with desire before it turned to rage as he jumped the other two teens, shouting, “Don’t you dare touch my Subaru!”

And so it went. Each boy, wondering what was going on, only to be kissed by the ivory-haired beauty and then rushed into battle to protect his girlfriend. Two boys fighting became four, then eight. Sixteen. Thirty-two. By the time the neighbors around the park had started to wonder what the commotion was about, forty-odd boys were suddenly in a battle royale, all of them out to protect their beloved Subaru from the others that would steal her away.

And as for Subaru? She was nowhere to be found when the police arrived by the dozens, wondering how supposedly one girl could be responsible for causing forty-three boys to beat the hell out of each other.

The next morning, Tsubasa woke up, sore and exhausted to the point she could barely keep her eyes open. Her mouth tasted funny, like she’d been rubbing it against sandpaper all night. Her arms, legs and hips hurt, and she felt nauseous. She stayed in bed both when her parents made breakfast and when they left to go to work; they knew she liked sleeping in on weekends.

There was a sudden knock on the door. “Go ‘way. Wanna sleep.”

The door opened, and in burst Yuka, in uniform. “Tsu-chan, get up!”

“Go ‘way. Satud’y,” the pegasus mumbled. “No school today.”

“Yes there is!” she said, pulling the pegasus out of bed. “School called a special session. We all need to be there.”

Finally, with what could only be referred to as herculean willpower, Tsubasa propped herself up, via her wings. She looked incredibly worn out and was forcing herself to sit up. “Why?”

“Rumor has it that about forty guys got into a fight last night, including most of the photography club and guys on the school newspaper. But get this – they all supposedly said they were fighting because their girlfriend was attacked by the others. And I’ll bet half of them don’t even have girlfriends.”

“Oh.” Her head was splitting now, screaming hard. She remembered when she was about six, she snuck a drink from her father’s beer, and drunk the whole thing to the point she got completely plastered. The hangover she got from it was a lesson, he told her, as to why only adults should drink beer and do it responsibly. The throbbing felt exactly like that.

“Tell you what: we don’t have to be there for an hour, so go take a shower and I’ll make something for you to eat, okay?”

Tsubasa smiled weakly. “Thanks, Yuka.”

“Hey, what are best friends for?”

Ten in the morning on what would’ve been their day off. Four female friends fried by frustrated faculty in the facility. Tsubasa heard various teachers lecture the student body over and over again on responsibility, good citizenship and having a sound mind in sound body. It really wasn’t anything that hadn’t already been drilled into them due to a lifetime in the Japanese school system. After a few minutes, two things became clear: the first was that none of the girls had any real clue as to why they were there. The second thing was that there were a number of injured and battered boys in the crowd, as well as quite a few of them missing.

Finally the principal walked up to the lectern, a stern look on his face. “Over the course of the previous evening, I have received a disturbing amount of reports that several members of our student body were fighting at ten in the evening in the park across the street from the school. Furthermore, I have heard rather…interesting…rumors that it had to do with a several boys fighting for the attention for a young girl.”

Riho whispered to her friends, “On one hand, that’s kinda romantic. On the other hand…at our age, that’s kinda creepy, too.”

“In any case,” the principal continued, “we cannot allow this sort of thing to happen. Now, while from what I understand none of the female students were involved in this senseless act, we are all responsible for one another. So as a result, for the remainder of the year, the cherry tree park will be off-limits to all students during school days. Futhermore, because most of the students involved were from the Photography Club and school newspaper, those two activities will not be suspended but their field trips will be restricted for the remainder of the year.” The rest of the time was spent in how the students were going to work harder at ensuring their fellow pupils would work harder at their citizenship for the sake of the wa of the nation.

As the students were dismissed for the day, the four girls walked out of the hall, headed back home. Well, three of them did, at any rate; Tsubasa stumbled and fell on the ground, completely spent. As the girls rushed to help their friend, Tsubasa looked at Yuka and the others and said, “Sorry, jus’ a li’l tired.”

“Tsu-chan, I think you need to see a doctor. You were feeling bad the other day and now you look worse,” Riho commented.

“I’ll be fine,” the pegasus insisted. “Just need to catch my breath and then gotta go help my parents at the café.”

“Oh no you’re not!” Yuka insisted, pulling out her phone. “Let’s get her home. I’ll call her parents and let them know what happened. Maybe then they can convince her to go to the hospital.” The others agreed and Junko flagged down a taxi while Yuka started dialing the café.

“Okā-san, I’m fine,” Tsubasa pleaded in a half-yawn. “I don’t need to see a doctor.”

Kyoko looked at her daughter with concern. “Little bird, in all the years you’ve been with us, you’ve never been sick before. What if you have the feather flu or something else? I’m your mother and I’m supposed to take care of my little girl,” she said, sweetly. “I’ll get you some broth and then I’ll call Sanada-sensei. He should be able to help you or at least let us know if we need to get you to a hospital.”

“But….” Tsubasa protested.

“I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t care about you, my little bird,” Kyoko said sweetly.

Tsubasa wanted to continue protesting, but she knew that her mother was only doing this because they were worried about her. Besides, she said to herself, I do need the sleep. “Okay, Okā-san,” she said, snuggling into the sheets.

“That’s a good girl. Now get some sleep, and I’ll bring you some consommé when you wake up.” Kyoko rose from the chair next to the bed, trying to keep a smile on her face. The truth was, she was a little worried. In the thirteen years Tsubasa had lived with her and her husband, she’d never gotten sick, and according to Martinez-san, only a handful of diseases in this reality affected ponies (Martinez had also admitted that illness was a rarity for her as well.) But now seeing her only child down for the count, Kyoko’s maternal instincts rose to the fore in a way that they rarely did. Hopefully it was just simple fatigue and nothing else. But if it was worse, Kyoko and Goro would go to the ends of the earth for their daughter. They went that far just to adopt her, and they would go farther still to protect her.

As she stood up, though, she noticed a polished red marble sphere with black glass spikes jutting out of it, seated in a glass case. She hadn’t recognized it before, but considering her recent friendship with the older American pony, it wasn’t out of the question that the object was something from their shared Equestriani heritage. She picked up the case and set it gently on the shelf, giving it no further thought as she left the room.

As she did, the other three girls circled around her, worried looks on their faces. “Thank you, girls, for calling me. Do you know what happened?”

The three looked at each other uneasily: should they tell Tsubasa’s mother about the Genderstone? Finally, Yuka spoke up: “She…says she hasn’t been sleeping well the past couple of days. We…know we should have said something sooner, but we promised her we wouldn’t.”

Kyoko gave the three a smile. “It’s good that you three have been helpful to her, but it’s important that you let the parents know as soon as. I would expect my Tsubasa to do the same for any of you. But thank you for being there for her.” Yuka promised that she’d check on Tsubasa later, while the other two promised to come by as well on Monday to say hi.

As the three left the house, Riho looked at her friends. “I hope we’re doing the right thing.”

Junko looked at the window to Tsubasa’s room. “So do I.”

Behind the school gym they met. Usually this was a destination of love, a place where two hearts would confess and meet. Today, though, it was a place for war councils.

A yankii, gaudy as all get out and wearing a blue tokkō-fuku overcoat sauntered over to the first one. “Yeah, Misuzu, what’s up?” she said between teeth holding a cigarette.

A girl, hair dyed in three tones, got up, hefting a bokken, the wooden practice sword looking well-worn from repeated use. “I just found out what caused the boys to fight: apparently some girl named Subaru is the one behind all of this. Apparently she’s some slut from another school and she’s getting the boys to fight in return for sleeping with her. Now, not only is some girl from another school startin’ some shit at ours, but she even went so far as to get my Hideki. An’ that shit ain’t right. So I think we’re gonna pay this bitch a visit and teach her not to mess with Tama-Mika High!”

Several of the girls present cheered at that, while the first one said, “You got a plan, chief?”

Misuzu grinned. “Yeah, sure as hell do, Akira. Here’s what we’re gonna do….”

That night, half awake, Tsubasa stumbled out of bed. Her eyes were half-closed and she felt as if she were numb all over. She hurt. She felt nothing but sheer exhaustion. She needed something to make her feel better. She thought about going downstairs for medicine, but that didn’t help. In the end, only one thing really did.

So she reached for the Genderstone.

Feeling sore as hell, Ryuji sat by the cherry tree, angry from the previous night’s events. Damn Koji, he rued. His now-former best friend had shown his true colors last night, not only by dumping poor Imagawa – Ryuji had to console the poor girl, his next door neighbor, just a few hours ago – but he tried to steal his Subaru…and then got the other guys from school to join in! Ryuji was a baseball player, not some martial artist out of an anime or a kendo club master, and as a result got beat up hard. It had been a small miracle that he’d been able to get away from the fighting just as the police arrived, and the school was so worried about losing its slot at the Spring Kōshien that they’d hidden the involvement of two of team’s baseball stars. But it had come at a price: he and Koji were now so mad at each other, their rhythm was off.

And the worst of it? In all that fracas, Subaru had disappeared. Of course, he couldn’t fault her for that: any girl would have to be insane to stick around like that, and there had been so many guys fighting that there was no possible way that he could have protected her.

But until he could finally be with her totally, the only thing he could do would be to wait here for her until she returned.

He didn’t have to wait long. Wearing a hapi as a shirt and tight jeans, she walked over to him and the first thing she did when she arrived was wrap her arms around him and launch into a long, sensual kiss. Finally, she broke it off, saying, “Shall we go to a love hotel? I think it’s time.”

“I’ll go anywhere with you, Subaru,” he cooed.

“I guess that means that you can keep her company in the hospital, then,” a sudden voice rang from behind the couple. A girl stood there with her bokken in hand, ready for action. Behind her, another stood with a chain, ready to have some fun. A few girls were behind them, offering support. “Ryuji, since you’re the school sports star, we’ll let you off easy. But you,” Misuzu said, pointing with her wooden sword, “are taking a trip to intensive care for fucking with Tamagawa Mikami High!”

Subaru looked at them, then laughed, her voice musical in the night. She then looked at Ryuji and kissed him, much more sweetly this time, whispering, “Sleep, my love.” He instantly fell to the ground like a stone. The ivory-haired girl then turned to look at the others and her visage was much less pleasant. “Ah, and now to deal with the inevitable distractions.”

Misuzu fumed. “Distraction? I’m gonna….” Her response ended as Subaru went up to her and kissed her. Behind Misuzu, Akira and the others stared with disbelief – then completely went aghast as they soon noticed Misuzu didn’t try to break away.

Well, I always wonder why she started dating Hideki, since he’s a little on the effeminate side. This kinda clears things up, Akira mused.

As Subaru broke off from the kiss, Misuzu seemed dazed for a second. But that soon went away as her indignation kicked in, backed up by a lot of embarrassment. “Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing, freak?”

Subaru smiled. “I always offer a mercy to those I’m about to murder.” And then she grabbed Misuzu’s long hair and threw her against a nearby park bench, face first. The crunch of face against concrete was clearly audible, as was the splatter of blood.

Akira had just enough time for her eyes to widen in shock before the ivory-haired bitch closed the two-meter gap between them in the blink of an eye, an absolute impossibility. People couldn’t move that fast. But before she could even move a centimeter to protect herself, she felt something slam into her face, her mouth move in a weird way, then darkness.

Standing a few meters Misuzu and Akira so they could spread out if the girl somehow knew how to fight, Sumire looked on with shock. In the span of seconds – not seconds as in less than a minute, but seconds as in less than ten seconds – the girl named Subaru had brutally injured both of the gang’s two leaders. She’d destroyed both in a literal blink of an eye.

And there stood Subaru, fist covered in blood, with a beatific smile on her face.

“I would run, if I were you,” she said, smiling as she licked the blood off her hand.

Sumire yelled “YOU BITCH!” while prepping to move forward to teach this girl a lesson. She might be a martial artist, but even martial artists couldn’t fight multiple opponents coming from every direction at once – this wasn’t the movies.

She continued to have that thought as she took a single step, only to see a blur of white move with a speed that people could only do in anime, no way in real life. She then felt a hand wrap around her face and a soft voice saying, “Sorry, not fast enough.”

And then nothing else.

Kappabashi-san sat atop her building, watching the moonlight. The moon seemed much larger than normal tonight, a result of atmospheric conditions causing an optical illusion.

Sometimes. But not tonight. If the familiar scenario played, tomorrow night would start a harvest moon, a yellow hue would come to the moon, and then a week later would come the sackcloth moon, a red moon – and during all this time, the moon would stay, quite impossibly, full and would not wane.

“You stupid girl,” Kappabashi-san said. “Stupid, stupid girl.”

Four in the morning. Subaru heard the gentle snoring of Ryuji beside her; she unwrapped herself from his tender mercies and climbed out of the bed. She then looked at the room with a bit of disgust, the nude anime pictures and the generic “seifuku” clothing she’d been wearing briefly just before they let nature take its course. Of course, that was to be expected: the love hotel four blocks down the road from the school was the one closest to the park, but by no means the best. Junko had confided the classiest one was in Roppongi, mainly because it catered to foreigners hooking up with Japanese girls. Tsubasa had blushed furiously upon hearing that. Subaru, on the other hand….

She walked over to the mirror, gazing at her glorious form. Goddess of Tamagawa Mikami High School – she liked that. Of course, there had been the part about Kanzaki Akane being the goddess…but that wasn’t a problem anymore. By the time they found her, well…. Subaru grinned; Kanzaki’s modeling career would certainly be in the past now; if what happened to her somehow didn’t become public, well, then she’d probably have a mental breakdown once she herself realized what happened to her.

Lastly, she went to the window to look out. Considering the nature of the hotel, these were one-way windows, and only those within could see outside. A shame, that; she’d be more than happy to display her body for anyone to see – proof she was a goddess. But what really brought a smile to her face was the full moon in the sky, starting to turn the slightest shade of yellow. All she had to do was wait a week, and she could begin. And a week after that, it wouldn’t matter anymore.

She would be Subaru, now and forever.

A few hours later, Tsubasa woke up in her bed and had to fight to just get up. She was sore in a way she’d never felt before, this time…she blushed; she was the kind of girl who would never do that sort of thing before marriage, but she’d always heard that the first time, well, hurt. Thankfully, she’d been home, asleep – but it certainly didn’t feel like it.

“Morning!” Tsubasa heard Yuka’s cheery voice; she looked up and saw her friend standing by the door, dressed in normal clothing; it was a Sunday, so of course there was no school. “Your mother asked me to stay here with you today while you stayed in bed. Of course I volunteered.”

Tsubasa smiled feebly. “You didn’t have to, you know.”

The smile fell from Yuka’s face. “Tsu-chan, I’ve never seen you like this. You’re always so strong and so cheery, but the past couple of days – since you used the Genderstone – have made you weak and sick. I think you should tell your mother about it. There might be something wrong with that stone! It might be defective, it might be tailored for someone else – it might not even be a Genderstone!”

The look in Tsubasa’s eyes suddenly reflected worry. She reached out to take her friend’s hands in her own. “If my mother and father find out what it is and what I have it for…I’m in trouble, Yuka. Real, real trouble.”

“I’m worried you’re in trouble now, because it’s making you ill!”

“Yuka-chan, I was bound to get sick sooner or later. I mean, I’m exposed to all kinds of human virii and maybe one just finally hit me. I think it’s coincidental, really. So please don’t tell them about the stone. Please, Yuka.”

“Okay,” she sighed. “I won’t.” There was a knock at the door, and Yuka stepped out for a second, and when she came back, Junko and Riho came into the room as well. “Hey, looks like I’m not the only one who wants to look after you.”

“Always here for my buddies!” Junko said, grinning.

“Tsu-chan, you’re always there for me, so I’m here for you,” Riho replied. She then turned to the others, and asked, “So, did you hear what happened last night?”

“Last night? Hell, did you hear what made the news this morning?”

“No, I was watching the Claude & Monet anime movie the other day – why does Gainax bother with licensing weird foreign comics?” she said. “Anyways, what happened?”

“The Demons got their butts kicked!” Junko crowed. The Demons, of course, were the group of yankii girls at the school who loved nothing more than to be juvenile delinquents. “Ran into Matsui Tomoko, whose mom is a nurse at the local hospital. According to her, the Demons got brought in, heavily beat up. Toyoda Misuzu and Nozaki Akira are in critical condition – they got more than just beat up, they got hurt bad.” Junko shook her head. “And it happened in the park, too, which means we’re gonna hear about it tomorrow at school.”

“No, I think they’re going to cover it because they’ll have their hands filled with this.” Riho produced a tablet set to Let’s! Now!, a gossip website – it was one of her few vices. Junko took the tablet from her and read…and gasped. “Oh, man, I hope they catch the guys who did this to her,” she said, as she passed the tablet to Yuka. Yuka read it, looked at Junko in agreement and gave it to Tsubasa.

Tsubasa read on in horror. Police in nearby Yokohama raided a home in the northern part of town rumored for being a brothel run by college students. While they found that and arrested several men and college-age girls, they also found a juvenile, strung out on some sort of drugs, lying in a pool of her bodily fluids and unclothed as if her previous “customer” had left her as is. Her customer turned out to be someone known to the police as a habitual user of drugs as well as a small-time dealer. But the girl turned out to be none other than rising star model Kanzaki Akane. Though the news had yet to be made public, Let’s! Now! had a notorious reputation for bribing news sources to get the info they wanted…and for all of that news to be devastatingly true.

“That’s crazy,” Riho said as she took the tablet back. “I might not really like Kanzaki, but she would never do that sort of thing, I’m sure.”

“Well, unless they have pictures, they have no proof,” Yuka said, “though yeah, you’re right, if this is even remotely true, the school will want to hide it.” At that point, Yuka’s discussion with Tsubasa regarding the Genderstone was lost as the four discussed the upcoming problems at school the next day and then started talking about other things.

The next few days were the first days in her life that Tsubasa missed school, because she got increasingly worse. She remembered once, just before she was adopted by her parents and lived in Equestria, when she’d had the feather flu and felt horrible. This was a thousand times worse. She’d become so sore and tired that moving at all was a chore, and she didn’t sleep. Plus, she was having horrible dreams she couldn’t explain, monstrous dreams. By Thursday of that week, her parents had called a doctor to check her out. The doctor didn’t have much expertise in equiniatric medicine, but he conferred with another doctor, a visiting one from Canada that had some limited knowledge of the subject and they both agreed that if Tsubasa got any worse, by Sunday she would be admitted to the hospital.

The school, reacting to the strange and sudden increase in violence, reacted accordingly. All school field trips, with the exception of the Summer Second Years’ Vacation, was cancelled, though the baseball team was, not surprisingly, allowed to participate in the Kōshien. The park was now off-limits to students for the remainder of the year and a police presence was in the park around the clock. Lastly, unless they had specific permission from their parents, after-school activities, such as jobs, were now forbidden to all students.

Meanwhile, amongst the students themselves, there was an uproar. There were rumors that yankii from another school had come to beat up the Demons because they threatened their school goddess, Subaru. The baseball team was holding together, but it was clear that all of them were more interested in beating the hell out of Ryuji because he had his dreamy girlfriend, the one he even refused to introduce anyone to and jealously guarded anyone from meeting. It was clear that after the Spring Kōshien, the only way the team wasn’t going to split apart was if they were invited to the Grand Summer Kōshien. Furthermore, they had little reason to be happy with Ienaga Koji, either, since he’d broken up with his girlfriend, Imagawa Ayumi, causing her to quit her position as the baseball team manager.

As for Ryuji, he didn’t care. He was now with Subaru, and every night was heaven. He hadn’t been home but to change and shower, and his parents didn’t care; they were more focused on their own pursuits to notice that their son was an up-and-coming baseball superstar. But Subaru did. Subaru gave him the attention he craved and she showed it with her body. In the past few days they’d spent every night at a new love hotel, only for her to leave in the morning and meet with him at night in a new location. Subaru had even promised him that if he played his cards right, she’d have something special for him soon.

But freakiest of all was the strange meteorological and astronomical phenomenon happening over Japan, an event people in Japan were calling “Eternal Moon.” In Japan – and only in Japan, strangely enough – the moon had never set during the day, and it seemed to be getting larger. Furthermore, it had turned from its normal bluish-white to a yellowing color and as the days grew by was starting to turn redder and redder. Astronomers and meteorologists around the world confirmed this event was only happening in Japan, and scientists from around the world started studying this Eternal Moon event. Equestria had even sent an astronomer of their own who promised to ask the preeminent expert on their moon, but unfortunately Princess Luna was unavailable as she was preparing for an upcoming diplomatic event.

Saturday, a school day. Yuka sat in her chair in the Astronomy Club, who met on weekends during lunch. The chair beside her was empty, and it hurt her so to see that it was. Her parents hadn’t told her anything, but there was something in Yuka that made her fear the worst: that her best friend was somehow dying of a disease, and that everyone skipped telling Yuka in order to spare her feelings.

“How is Ueda-san?” a voice next to her asked; she turned and noted Yoshida walking into the room. It was sweet of him to ask; during the course of the week’s events a few girls here and there had asked, and he turned out to be the only boy who seemed to care.

“Hiroshi…she’s really sick.” Yuka’s eyes blinked tears back; she didn’t have to worry about embarrassing herself in front of him since they were childhood friends. “They’re going to take her to the hospital tomorrow and there’s a doctor there who knows a little more about umajin physiology. But I’m worried about her.”

He adjusted his glasses, then gave her a smile. “Yuka, she’ll pull through. She’s got a best friend like you rooting for her, and I know that Kaneko-san and Saito-san are with you as well. You three will protect her from whatever this is, I know it.”

“I hope she does,” Yuka said, trying hard not to cry as the rest of the Astronomy Club walked in.

That night, watching from a beachside love hotel in Maihama, Subaru grinned as the orange moon became red. “Finally. It begins.”

Poring over scrolls like a madwoman, Kappabashi looked at her assistant. “I know this is rough on you, but please – try again. We need to find that stupid girl soon.”

The assistant stood there, silent, as if asking a question.

“No, I’d rather not involve her parents, because…they’ll be innocents caught in the crossfire. But we are quickly running out of that sort of time.”

There was a knock at the door. “Little bird, wake up. The ambulance will be here in an hour to take you to the hospital,” her mother said.

Tsubasa wanted to vomit. She was sweating now, burning up with a fever and she was now so sore and weak that she wasn’t able to get out of bed yesterday and even just trying to sit up now was taking all the strength she had. She even agreed two days ago that she needed to go to the hospital, and today was that day. “Will Yuka be there?” she asked.

“Your father went to go pick up your friends. They’ll meet us at the hospital. I brought some consommé, if you think you could eat some.”

“Okay.” As her mother started to open the door, Tsubasa forced herself to sit up. As her mother came through the door, Tsubasa finished sitting up and—

CRASH! Ueda Kyoko dropped the food tray, her eyes going wild with terror and she covered her mouth to prevent herself from screaming. She sank to her knees, not once taking her fear-focused eyes off her daughter.

“Okā-san, what’s wrong?” Tsubasa asked, forcing herself out of bed. Something was wrong with her mother and Tsubasa ignored the agony coursing through her body as she raced to her mother’s side. “Okā-san, say something!”

And then that’s when Tsubasa saw it. By the left side of the door, she had a full-body mirror and she could see her reflection as she held her mother.

Tsubasa screamed.

化け物, 第3章

“MOVE!” the orderlies shouted as the pushed the shrouded gurney from the emergency room to the infectious disease room. The chances of the patient carrying a pathogen that would warrant it was nearly impossible, but instead she was placed there for her own safety and privacy. Even though humans were far more advanced scientifically and technologically above their fellow sapient species, there were limits to human knowledge and the patient being brought in quickly brought the realization of how sharp those limits were.

The doctor, a sober-faced foreigner who by the symbol on his labcoat was clearly on loan from another hospital, looked at the couple. “Mr. and Mrs. Ueda, I presume? I apologize, I was informed you speak English.”

“We do,” Goro said, still completely unable to comprehend what his wife said to him. “What’s wrong with my little girl?”

“Mr. Ueda, my name is Dr. Ken Thompson. I’m here on loan to Sanseki Hospital to teach some of the interns some of the latest medical techniques from North America. It is, quite honestly, coincidental that I’ve worked with Dr. William Hilton, the founder of equiniatric medicine. I’ve learned some of it, but I’m not exactly his protégé. So please, understand what I am about to tell you is not set in stone.”

Seeing the Uedas, Yuka, Riho and Junko raced over to the Uedas, only to be stopped by the doctor. “So sorry,” he said in broken Japanese. “Family only.”

“Doctor, these are my daughter’s best friends,” Kyoko said. “I do not mind them knowing.”

“Very well then,” Thompson continued, as Goro began to translate his words. “The fact is, we have reason to believe that whatever is happening to her is magical in nature. We ran a battery of tests on her and per her previous medical scans, she’s reading the same. By all means, she’s a perfectly healthy…uh…mare? Filly? Yearling? Do ponies have a term for adolescence?”

“I don’t know,” Kyoko said, her eyes starting to burn from tears again.

“But even though she scans as quite healthy, even I know that what your daughter is right now is something I don’t know. Please, forgive me but…that’s not a pony. I don’t know what that is. And that’s why I believe the problem might be magical in origin.”

As Goro quickly translated, Kyoko asked, “What's happening to my daughter?”

“I don’t know, ma’am. Only that she’s healthy by what her scans say and that she doesn’t look normal. We’ll keep looking into it, I assure you. I’ll send Dr. Hilton a note and see if he can recommend an equiniatric specialist somewhere on the west coast of the US that can fly here. You might even get lucky and get his protégé herself, though I think Dr. McAllister is a bit busy training others.”

A nurse came up to him. “Doctor, we have Ueda set and sedated. She should be stabilized, but….”

“But?”

The nurse looked nervous, as if something was wrong. “Her heart rate. It’s fluctuating weirdly. Her heart, according to the scan is perfectly fine, but her heart rate…it’s jumping all over the place.”

“Give her 200mg of Cardioscipin and I want a round-the-clock watch on her.”

“Yes sir.”

Thompson looked at the five assembled and asked, “We wouldn’t normally do this, considering the rules for the Isolation Lab, but…would you care to see her?”

A few minutes later, the five were gazing at Tsubasa from behind thick transparent aluminum. Kyoko could only look at her daughter briefly before crying. The three girls wept openly, holding each other, while Goro tried to be the pillar of strength for them all and he wasn’t sure how much more he could hold on himself.

Laying on a single bed in the room, hooked up to a battery of medical monitors and sedated via a mask over her mouth feeding an anesthetic to her, was Tsubasa. But she no longer looked like herself: her face and ears remained the same, but that was about it. Her body was now a deep gray, the doctors explained, because her coat had suddenly disappeared, leaving her as hairless as a human with the natural gray skin of an equinoid. She’d developed the full shoulders of a human and her chest had swelled in the manner all teenage girls wished it would – but not natural on ponies. Her waist, previously uniform, was now more of the rough hourglass that humans had, as well as the larger hips. Her legs flared out underneath to larger than normal size, as if her legs had been restructured for plantigrade motion. Her forehooves had split, becoming hands. Her wings had shrunk to a near-vestigial size, as if they were slowly disappearing.

Though they were keeping her asleep, the pain was enough that tears were streaming from her face. That hurt Goro and Kyoko most of all: their little girl was in pain, suffering something they could not protect her from, and all they could do was to stand here and watch her slip from them.

Goro punched the window, ignoring the sharp jag of pain he got from doing so. “What kind of parent am I if I can’t protect my little girl?” he snarled, the tears finally pouring from his face. “I’m a failure as a father.”

Kyoko hugged her husband. “Don’t say that! You’ve always been there for her when she needed you, anata! We’ll still be here for her. Just like we were when we adopted her. You remember that.”

The unicorn looked over the desk at the Japanese couple in front of him. “Mr. and Mrs. Ueda, while I commend you for your offer to adopt a pony, I’m afraid we must decline your request.”

Goro shifted nervously from one leg to the other on the chair, not only because he was discomfited at the answer, but…these chairs weren’t designed for humans in the least. Kyoko looked at him, equally distraught. “Mr. Rubberstamp, may I ask why?”

Rubberstamp looked at his fellow members of the Equestria Board of Adoptions; none of them looked as though they wanted to speak up. He coughed into a forehoof, and then finally said, “Mr. Ueda, quite frankly, there have been some concerns about ponies being raised by humans. Granted, there is only one historical example, but given her background and your species we feel that—” There was a knock at the door behind the Board and a secretary, a mule, came in, whispering something to him.

Goro looked at his wife in confusion, then back at the unicorn.

“Excuse us just a moment. Our employer is present.” Looking at the rest of the Board, the five ponies marched out of the room.

“Anata,” Kyoko asked, “are we—” She was suddenly cut off by a roaring voice screaming “AND YOU WILL NOT DO THAT AGAIN TO ANOTHER POOR FOAL BECAUSE YOU ALL WANT TO BE MEANIES, GOT THAT?”

Goro and Kyoko looked at each other, then back at the door. Finally, another pony, a pegasus mare, walked through the door. She had a soft yellow coat and a pink mane, and the smile on her face was beatific. Sitting in the main chair, she introduced herself as Fluttershy, Duchess Andalusia, Knight Elemental of Kindness, and the Minister of Health and Family Services. “But you can just call me Fluttershy,” she said with a smile. She looked at the paper. “Now, Mr. and Mrs. Ueda, I’ve looked at your record myself. And I understand that you wish to adopt a little filly named Featherwishes?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Goro said, hopeful. There was something far less bureaucratic and far kinder about this mare than the others, and that was a good sign, hopefully.

“I understand you were just turned down by my Board. Well, I do have final decision authority, and, looking at your records, I can’t see any reason why I shouldn’t approve this adoption – and I can’t see any reason why they didn’t. But you don’t have to worry about that.” Fluttershy’s smile was wide as she said, “Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Ueda. You’re parents now. I will inform the Royal Manehattan Foal Care Center to begin working with you to transfer custody as soon as possible.”

At that point, Goro and Kyoko hugged each other in delight, thanking Fluttershy and holding each other. After nearly twenty years of miscarriages, failed human adoptions and other problems, they finally had a child, one they would love forever….

Goro slumped to the floor. He’d given everything for his little bird and he would give more. He would give everything, including his life, if he could. But he couldn’t protect her from this, couldn’t stop what was happening to her. At his side he could barely hear his wife over the rushing of his own tears. He dimly remembered the saying, No parent should ever outlive their child.

“Ojisan, Obasan,” Yuka said, approaching the pair. She looked back at Riho and Junko and they both nodded. “I think there’s something you should know.”

Goro looked at the object and wanted to break it in half, to destroy it if it would save his little girl – but doing so might make it worse, might destroy her in the process. So instead he let it sit on the shelf where it rested, a blight on the room.

Kyoko, on the other hand, was livid. “Girls! What did I tell you about looking out for one another?”

Riho adjusted her glasses. “Obasan, you have to understand – we only wanted the best for Tsu-chan! We know now we should have stopped her from using it, but we made a mistake.”

Yuka couldn’t stop crying. “No, Riho, it’s my fault. I’ve known Tsubasa since the first day we met in elementary. I should’ve looked out for her.” Yuka collapsed onto the floor, looking up at the stone, the cause of all this pain. “She wanted so much to be with Ryuji-san, but he didn’t want her. So she tried to be something else. And now it’s killing her. And all because I wasn’t brave enough to speak up.”

Goro looked at three girls and said, “You did the right thing in the end, though. And I’m glad that my daughter has such loyal friends as you. Who knows what would’ve happened if she didn’t.” He picked up the case and looked at the evil thing within. “We’ll go to the Equestriani Embassy and seek help tomorrow. They’ll know what to do, I’m sure of it.”

“We’re so sorry,” Junko said. “If any of us can do anything to help her, we will.” Yuka put her arms around her friends; the trio would stick with Tsubasa until the end.

The orderly, a college student, readied to clean the Isolation Lab. His orders were simple: he was to clean, only to do that and never touch the patient on the bed. She was under special protection and at no circumstances was he to approach within ten feet of her.

The reality was somewhat different, as he came into the room to find the patient and an unidentified male, all hot and bothered and looking very much as though they were in foreplay. The girl, a strange thing that looked like some sort of morbid cross between a human and an umajin, moved away from the guy as he was kissing her bare chest. “One moment, my love.” The patient got off the bed, her paramour standing there with a blank, glassy look on his face.

“It’s rude to stare,” she told him as she walked towards him. The intern tried to move, but found he was stuck in place. He tried to scream, tried to flag the attention of those watching on the close-circuit cameras – surely those hentai must have seen all this! – anyone. She walked right up to him and said, “Don’t you know it’s rude to walk in on a couple sharing love?” He looked at her with fear and disgust. Whatever this thing was, it wasn’t human – or umajin or whatever.

The creature traced a finger down his neck. “As fun as it would be to let you watch, a girl deserves her privacy, right?” He was able to nod slightly. She brought that finger to rest on his neck and he flinched. “You’re afraid I’m going to hurt you, aren’t you?” He nodded. “Well, that would be rude of me. Besides, I want my Daisuke to know I’m gentle and would never hurt anyone.” With a flicker of motion, she grabbed his neck with her hand and twisted; with a quick snap the man’s neck broke, and he died instantly – and painlessly – just as she promised.

Subaru looked at the corpse of the intern and figured a mess would ruin the mood, so she tapped the wall. The wall disappeared, opening up into outer space. With a push, she sent the body out, floating amongst the cosmos. If the body somehow managed to last, the American probe to Venus might notice the cadaver sometime next month. With that done – and a quick look at the morning star itself – Subaru waved her hand and the wall reappeared as quickly as it had vanished.

Walking back to Ryuji, she hopped back on the bed and looked at him. “Daisuke, do you love me?”

“Yes,” he said, his stare still blank.

“But I’m not human anymore,” she reminded him.

“But you are you, my Subaru,” he said, his voice devoid of feeling.

“Well, my love,” she said, kissing him. “Here’s the plan: in five days, I will have full control of this body and that stupid little pegasus will be dead. Then I’ll transform this body into whatever you want, and you can continue to love me as we conquer this world together, okay?” To her happiness, he responded by holding her close and kissing her. She wondered if the hospital bed would be strong enough to withstand the rigors of their night, or if she should teleport them to a love hotel.

Or maybe I should just plan for our wedding, she thought, a soft smile coming to her gray lips. Yes, she was a monster, she knew that – but she was a monster in love with one who loved her…shouldn’t she at least have a little bit of happiness in her life?

She snapped her fingers and the room went dark; a second snap produced several candles. Perfect mood lighting for a romantic evening together.

Somewhere and nowhere, what was left of Tsubasa continued to scream in terror.

As Goro and Kyoko approached the Equestriani Embassy, it was a madhouse. Dozens of police officers were in front of the station, and personnel were decorating the building with black bunting, a sign that someone had died. What had happened?

As they approached the building, a police officer stepped up to them. “I’m sorry, but the embassy is closed.”

“Closed? What happened?”

“I don’t have the authorization to tell you why. All I can say is that you’ll have to watch the news. It’ll be on NHK soon enough.”

Goro and Kyoko looked on in shock. Just within the embassy’s perimeter, members of the Royal Equestriani Army were standing there, heavily armed and weapons at the ready. The facility was turning into a fortress and there was no chance of getting in.

“Mr. and Mrs. Ueda?” They turned to their sides and found a white pegasus with a powder blue mane standing there. He was dressed in a sweater and jeans, as if he’d just arrived.

“Hello, Mr. Sprinter.” Cirrus Sprinter, their contact at the embassy. Per the adoption rules, for the first five years of Tsubasa’s life with her adoptive parents, the Uedas were required to meet with their adoptive contact to ensure Tsubasa was being well cared for. Though they spoke to him a lot less now that the period was done, he still came by the café from time to time. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. It was my day off and I got a call from my supervisor and I was told to come in for something important – I wasn’t expecting the compound to be locked down like we were expecting Moonfall again. What’re you doing here?”

Kyoko broke into tears suddenly and leaned on her husband’s arm; Goro looked at him and said, “Tsubasa is very ill. Normally we wouldn’t be seeking the embassy’s assistance on this, but…the doctor believes that it may be magical in nature. And furthermore, her friends have confirmed that she’s been toying with something called a ‘genderstone.’” He unwrapped the package, showing the case and the stone.

“Well, I’m by no means an expert on magic, but…c’mon in. I’ll escort you in. I’ll get you in touch with one of our Guild staffers. Now, bear in mind I may have to attend a quick meeting first, but I hope you don’t mind waiting in my office, do you?”

Goro grinned. “Not at all, Mr. Sprinter. We’re very concerned about our daughter and would appreciate any help you can get.”

“I’m afraid we can’t help you.” The unicorn mare sitting across from them looked at the trio with discomfort. “I’m sorry.”

Cirrus Sprinter was shocked. “Blue, c’mon! We gotta help the girl!”

Blueberry Taffy looked at Cirrus, then at the Uedas and then back to him. “Cirrus, we literally can’t! Trust me, I sympathize with the Uedas, I do – but this….” She pointed at the stone in the case, continuing. “This is above my paygrade. I don’t know if it’s a Genderstone or not – I can’t tell what it is! You need a Guild-trained unicorn for that, and I’m not a Guild member! All I’ve got is level two training skills.”

“Then get a Guildie in here!” he shouted. “What about Cookie Cream? Or Hollyoak?”

“They’re not here, remember?” she looked at him, her eyes filling with sorrow. “None of them are.”

“Damn, you’re right.” Cirrus suddenly looked apologetic. “Sorry, Blue.”

“I know how you feel, Cirrus. I understand.”

Kyoko looked at both umajin and asked, “Why aren’t they here? Can’t the embassy have some sent?”

“I’m afraid I’m not authorized to explain, Mrs. Ueda,” Blueberry said. “Normally we have about five or six Guild members assigned to the embassy, but they were all recalled back to Equestria for an emergency. That means that any unicorn left here on Human-Earth isn’t strong enough to have the training for higher-level skills. Even our guards from the Army aren’t trained any higher than level six, which is simple police and military spells.”

“Can’t the ambassador call them?” Kyoko begged. “Please! We just want to save our little girl! Please!”

There was a knock on the door, and in walked another pegasus, a mare. Her hair was done up in a bun, a manestyle too restrained for her naturally neon-green and hot-pink colors. She sat down in the chair next to them, and the look in her eyes was one of exhaustion. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Ueda. I would have been here sooner, but I just got out of a teleconference with his highness Prince Plothol – excuse me, Blueblood. He’s the acting head of state until one of our princesses returns to Equestria. The fact is, I cannot recall the Guild: a huge emergency has occurred for us and we may be at war soon.”

“Who are you?” Goro asked.

“Apologies – I must be really tired to have not introduced myself. My name is Blossomforth and I’m the Crown’s Ambassador to Japan. I wield a considerable amount of authority, so please understand that when I say I cannot authorize the use of Guild members, I regretfully cannot do so. But I understand the predicament regarding your situation and, quite frankly, you deserve an answer as to why. If his highness the prince would have his way, I couldn’t even tell you that, so I’m glad he wasn’t that forward thinking. Also, please understand that what I’m about to tell you is confidential; it will be released to the press shortly but until we do so, it’s in confidence.

“The fact is, last night, there was an attempt in Singapore on the lives of our three princesses. We know that her majesty Princess Celestia wasn’t harmed, but we also know that one of the members of the Royal Family may have been killed in the attack. Since we don’t have an embassy there, we’re getting all our information second-hand from the British embassy, who runs an interest section for us. As a result, Prince Blueblood has issued a royal edict recalling every one of the Guild members back to Equestria and the only ones who can countermand it are her majesty, crown princess Princess Luna or our foreign minister and princess royal, Princess Cadance. While I believe it is overkill, I don’t have the authority to countermand it.

“We don’t know when we’ll be able to get our Guild members back. And even if we get them tomorrow, I would still need permission from both the Archmagus of the Guild and your government. And if the situation is dire enough for your daughter, we might not have enough time.” She turned to Cirrus. “Cirrus, get a hold of the Draconian and Zebrababwean embassies and ask if they have any high-level spellcasters familiar with pony magic.”

The afternoon was spent with a delicious but anxious lunch. The embassy’s chef was spot on and Kyoko and Goro enjoyed a wonderful lunch of dandelion ramen. Blossomforth, Cirrus and Blueberry attempted to chat about other things and help take the Uedas’ minds off the wait, but they knew that was impossible. As for the Uedas themselves, both Goro and Kyoko couldn’t relax, not while their daughter was in trouble.

Finally, as they were heading to Blossomforth’s office, her deputy, Pokey Pierce, came up to her. “I have Colonel Snarl from the Draconian embassy and Miss Pamoja from the Zebrababwean one. Both just arrived and are waiting in your office.”

“Thank you,” she told him. As the group walked in, they noted a black drake with orange cresting, standing there in a Draconian Defense Force uniform, and a zebra mare in traditional Zebrababwean formal wear. Blossomforth wasted no time in introducing everyone and they sat down.

“Have you been briefed on the situation?” Blossomforth asked.

“Indeed we have, Ambassador,” Snarl responded. “But I’m at a loss to wonder how the girl could have acquired such an object.”

“I too have much been wondering so,” Pamoja replied, “But there’s still more we need to know. Dear sir, do you have the device, so Snarl and I may analyze?”

Goro removed the covering of the glass, grateful that the other magic users were able to assist. Snarl picked it up and took it in his claws, inspecting it. After a few minutes, he handed it over to Pamoja, who also looked it over intensely.

“Well, I can tell you this much: it’s not of pony make,” Snarl said. “Spell-holding minerals require a certain matrix lattice in order to bind to the magic. For example, carbon isn’t very suited to hold magic, so diamonds are almost never used in lapidimancy. Likewise, some minerals are best for spell amplification, which is why granite and marble are usually used for spellstone bases. But this…this isn’t either of them. I’m not sure what this is, but if I had to take a guess, this is cinnabar.”

“Cinnabar?”

“A mercury-based mineral. Furthermore, the spars sticking out of it: that’s clearly obsidian, which is just as useless as diamond for holding spells. If someone set a spell in this, it’s not any of the standard Alter-Earth magic systems. I’ve studied many, so I’m absolutely sure of that. But it might be alchemical in origin. Miss Pamoja?”

“Not alchemical, of that I’m clear,” she said, setting the stone back in the case. “I’m vexed to what I’m holding here. Alchemy is a fluid art; no stones are used, in whole or part. If quicksilver’s used, liquid would be the form – solids like cinnabar aren’t the norm.”

Cirrus asked, “So neither of you know what this is?”

“I’m sure I could get someone from the Dominion here,” Snarl said, “but I’d need that kind of authorization and that takes time. I’ll request Ambassador Jag get someone but if this girl needs urgent attention now, I’m not sure help would arrive in time.”

“I’ll ask my superior what he can do; he’ll try to move the Earth for you,” Pamoja said. “But Mr. and Mrs. Ueda I fear the answer you seek is not quite clear. My nation will offer all the help we can give, but I fear it may not help your daughter to live.”

Goro and Kyoko looked at the two others in shock. The last door to help their daughter had been shut on her face.

“Visiting hours aren’t until nine in the morning,” the nurse told the crying schoolgirl. “Besides, it’s ten in the evening on a school night. Shouldn’t you be home?”

“Look…my best friend is in the Isolation Lab and dying. I may never see her again,” Yuka said, tears flowing. “I want to see Tsu-chan!” She’d heard an hour ago from Tsubasa’s parents the hopelessness of the situation and she raced over to the hospital immediately. She had to see Tsubasa again, because it might be the last. “I just wanna see Tsu-chan,” she sobbed.

“Well…usually I don’t do this, but…okay, you can go back there. If the janitor sees you, though, he’ll probably kick you out and I never said you could go back there, understood?”

The teen wiped her eyes. “Yes ma’am. Thank you,” she said, bowing deeply, then running in.

“Kids these days,” the nurse replied, looking at the clock. She then turned to another nurse. “Hey, has anyone seen Matsuda? I haven’t seen that idiot since last night.”

The other nurse shook her head. “Knowing him, he’s either late for work again because he slept in or sitting in a corner somewhere, playing videogames. Don’t worry, he’ll turn up sooner or later.”

Following the signs and the instructions on going through the first airlock, Yuka then walked over to the observation room. And what she saw burned into her eyeballs. There, on the gurney, was Tsubasa and…Ryuji Daisuke? And they were…they were…. Yuka turned away in shock and disgust – her friend would never do anything like that, much less so out in the open and especially not when she was sick!

And then realization hit her. That’s not…that’s not Tsubasa.

“You’re right. I’m not.” The voice behind her suddenly made a line of ice rush through Yuka’s veins. She turned around to see the thing in Tsubasa’s cursed body standing there, brazen, unclothed and covered in sweat and…other things… from…. Yuka turned again, freaking out.

The thing sighed. “You humans are such prudes.” There was a flash of light and the thing was dressed in a normal t-shirt and jeans. “I’m dressed now.”

“You’re not Tsu-chan,” Yuka said.

“You said that earlier and I’ll say it again, you’re right. I’m not,” the thing said, leaning forward and grinning. “I’d tell you who I am, but you wouldn’t believe it. You can just call me Subaru instead.”

“Give her back!” Yuka demanded.

Subaru laughed. “What, and lose this body? Oh, no – I’ve been waiting thousands of years for this. And your friend was stupid enough to do this. Trust me, she’s getting exactly what she deserves. Tell me: did she tell you she stole what she thought was a Genderstone? Because she wanted my Daisuke there. Greed, theft and lust…oh, and shame, too. Did you know that? She always harbored a secret shame that because she didn’t have human-sized breasts and hands and feet – hell, because she wasn’t human – that nobody really liked her. Clearly a basketcase.”

Yuka refused to believe any of that; she trusted her friend. So instead, she asked, “What are you doing to him?”

“Nothing that he didn’t want. Cute girlfriend with a hard body and a need to…well, you know. And I’m just the girl.”

“But you’re doing it in Tsu-chan’s body! She would never do that!”

Subaru rolled her eyes; Yuka noted that one was still Tsubasa’s pony-sized one, while the other had slowly shrunk to more of a human’s one. “A shame. Women’s bodies are meant to be used. Ah, but there’s that morality thing you have hangups with. I know it’s not in Shinto and you don’t figure for a Christia…ah, you must be Buddhist. Yup, they’re just as prudish. Oh well.”

“Give her back! Give us back Tsubasa!”

“Look – truthfully, I should really kill you. And I’ve already did that to the last person who intruded on mine and Daisuke’s private time. But…this was that idiot’s body and you are her best friend, so I do owe her that much. So here’s the deal: in five days, this body will be mine and your friend will be dead and then Daisuke and I will be out of your hair. But if you tell anyone about what’s going on, I will hunt you down and…well, let’s just say you already know what I did to The Demons, so I’ll get really creative with you.” Subaru grinned, then took Yuka’s hand in her own. “You know, it’s a shame we didn’t meet before. I think we could have been really good friends in Heiankyo…they still call it that, right?”

Heiankyo? Yuka thought, recalling the name from her history class.

“Well, I’ve still got time to spend with my love there and we’re going to just…well, you’re a grown girl, I’m sure you can figure it out. But I’ll tell you what: once I decide on a final form for this body, I’ll invite you to the wedding. I promise.”

“Wedding?” Yuka sputtered. “You can’t!”

“I assure you, I can. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s only so much nighttime in the evening and I’m a girl with needs. So…ja ne!” With that, she snapped her fingers again and Yuka vanished. Another blink of light and Subaru’s body was unclothed once more as she phased through the observation window to approach Ryuji.

“There, problem gone and we can get back to what we were doing – namely, each other.”

Despite his blank expression, Ryuji asked, “You didn’t hurt her, did you?”

Subaru’s brows went up in surprise; she hadn’t expected that. “Uh, no. I was just…repaying a favor. Why?”

“Good.” He smiled slightly. “You’re not a monster, Subaru.”

She looked at him uncomfortably. Not only was he not reacting like someone in thrall, but he…no…it doesn’t make sense. “But I am, Daisuke. I am.”

“No,” he said, dully. “You’re my girl.” He then bent down and kissed her, as passionately as he did the first time they met. And for the first time in ages, a question arose in the mind of Subaru: Why?

Completely soaked, and shivering from the nighttime air, Yuka pulled herself from the school swimming pool. She could have been sent anywhere, she realized, but the monster – Subaru – had kept to her word. But now…Yuka was a bearer of a bigger secret, one she knew she couldn’t keep this time.

Even if Subaru kills me…oh, no! I have to save Tsubasa…but how? How?

“Yuka?” She turned and there was Yoshida, carrying his telescope. “What are you doing in the pool?”

“Hiroshi!” Yuka practically glomped him, blubbering and sobbing and jabbering incomprehensibly.

“Yuka! Calm down!” he said, pushing her away from him and taking off his jacket to cover her. “What’s wrong?”

Several minutes went by as she explained everything, occasionally drinking from a thermos of hot chocolate he’d brought with him. He listened intently before saying, “To be honest, unless she specifically cast a geas on you, she can’t do that. But I can’t believe…Tsubasa….”

“I don’t know what to do anymore, Hiroshi! She’s gonna die and that monster Subaru’s gonna have her body and we have no idea how powerful she is! And there’s no one who can stop her!”

“Calm down. Let me ask some of my friends,” he said, pulling out his laptop.

“Your friends?”

“Yeah. Remember that weird occultist hobby that you thought I have? The one that was going to get me in trouble someday? Well, maybe…just maybe…we can get some help.” And the moment he opened his Chromebook, he went to the International Occultists Chatpage.

YOU ARE NOW ON CHANNEL “Magic Assistance”
14 members online, 4 guests. Moderator present: [=Angryburdz=]

[Batsu!Guy]: I need help.
[MagicMan]: Sorry, man – we’re not a dating service XD
[Hoofdini]: Dude, seriously, get a new joke, Magic.
[JohnDee123]: No, kidding, Hoof – he’s been doing that since he joined.
[Flamelfan]: So what’s up, Batsu?
[Batsu!Guy]: My girlfriend got in trouble and I’ve got no one else to turn to.

“Your girlfriend?” Yuka asked. She didn’t know much English, but she knew that phrase.

Yoshida blushed. “Uh, it’s easier to personalize if I tell them that rather than just a generic friend?”

Yuka looked at him, then said, “You’re a coward, you know that?”

“Whatever.” He then started typing a long explanation while Yuka explained. Once that was done, he read it off for confirmation and she nodded, and then pressed ENTER.

[Hoofdini]: I see. Where do you live, Batsu?
[AbeNoSemei]: Tokyo, if I remember correctly.
[Batsu!Guy]: That’s right.
[LaVoisin]: And you’re not kidding about any of this, are you?
[Batsu!Guy]: No! The Equestiani, Draconian and Zebrababwean embassies said they couldn’t help. Here’s my

phone number 090-1234-5678 if you want to call me for proof. She’s gonna die if I don’t get her help!
[MagicMan]: Man, sorry about the joke earlier, if you’re serious.
[Batsu!Guy]: I am!
[Hoofdini]: I can help. I just started a two-week vacation from my job and I’ve always wanted an excuse to visit

Japan. It’s six in the morning here and I’ll have to check to see when I can get a plane out. But I’ll

come, if you can get me a place to stay.
[JohnDee123]: Hoof, he said he needs a pony Guild person.
[Hoofdini]: JD, I am Guild trained. I never joined the Guild for personal reasons, but my magic levels have been

verified. Level 43D. By the way, the Guild Archmagus herself is a Level 50 – only a few in history have

ever gotten that high. Anything above that, well, you’re probably sporting a horn AND wings. For

comparison, the average Guild mage is probably about Level 27.
[=Angryburdz=]: Fuck. You oughta be mod here, Hoof XD
[Hoofdini]: XD Hold on, gotta get on the Lollercoaster for that one. Anyway, Batsu, there’s a flight from here to

LAX then to Tokyo. Braniff International Flight 7308. I can be there tomorrow afternoon. But I need

your personal word this isn’t a lie.
[Batsu!Guy]: It’s not. There’s my phone if you want to call.
[Hoofdini]: Then that’s good enough for me. I’ll PM you as soon as the flight’s in the air and I’ll see you

tomorrow.
[Rohonc_Codex]: Best of luck, guys!

He closed the laptop. “Well, help’s on the way.”

“Who is that?”

“Oh, Hoof? Dunno, really, other than that he’s a pony that lives in the US, somewhere on the West Coast. But he’s really friendly, really smart and kicks my ass at Magic Battle Blasters on a regular basis – he knows all the tricks on Illusa, even the Secret Ultraspell move.”

“Well, let’s get going and tell Tsubasa’s parents. We have to let them know we got help!” She hugged him. “Thank you, Hiroshi.”

He smiled. “Well, let’s get you out of those wet clothing, okay? You’re pressing really close.”

She looked at him, miffed, but for once didn’t chew him out. “Okay, I’ll let you have that hentai comment just this once.”

The assistant collapsed on the floor, spent. He looked up at Kappabashi, pleading.

“You’re right – you can’t go on. I’m sorry you had to do this. You’re right.”

He looked at her again.

“I’ll talk to her parents. I hope it’s not too late,” the old woman said, worried. “First thing in the morning.” She looked out the window at the nighttime sky and the hugely gigantic moon. It was a deep shade of orange now and turning redder by the day. “Five days left. And if we don’t stop her….” The old woman shook her head and went back in. She didn’t want to think of the alternative.

Blossomforth was furious. “Your highness, we need a Guild staffer here! There’s a pony’s life at stake!”

Over the phone, Blueblood laughed. “Miss Blossomforth, the only reason I’m bothering with this call is because you’re one of our diplomatic staff and my cousin Cadance is still on Human-Earth. But let me explain something: while I am in charge, I am in charge. And I say the Guild staff needs to be here to protect Equestria.”

“To protect you,” she hissed. “Because you’re such a terrified coward.”

“What was that, Miss Blossomforth?”

“Nothing, your highness,” she muttered.

“Good. Now unless you have anything else for the Crown, I have a luncheon I have to attend. Good Day.” The line disconnected and Blossomforth had to fight the urge to slam the phone down on the cradle. She instead, buried her face in her hooves, frustrated that with all the authority and power that she had as an ambassador, she couldn’t save a pony who needed her when that power was needed most.

At Narita the next day, the group stood there – the Uedas, Yuka, Riho, Junko, and Yoshida – waiting. Yoshida held up a sign that said HOOFDINI.

“Isn’t it ‘Houdini’?” Riho asked.

“No, the name’s a play on it,” Yoshida replied. “Since Hoofdini says he’s a magic user, maybe he just liked the play on words.”

“Well, here comes the people from the flight,” Yuka said, hoping against hope that the help would really come and that this wasn’t just a cruel lie. Dozens of people boiled out of Gate 21B, a collection of foreigners and Japanese natives, all human. Finally, a unicorn could be seen, walking upright, headed towards them – and he never would have expected what he saw: “Hoofdini” was a mare, with a light blue coat, pale blue and white mane and her eyes hidden behind sunglasses. She wore a leather jacket, a sports jersey – at least he recalled somewhere that the Dodgers were a baseball team – jeans and sneakers. She was towing a suitcase, and walked with an air of confidence.

Hoofdini stopped in front of the group, looking at the sign. “You must be Batsu,” she said in English. She set the bag down and offered a hoof. “You really weren’t kidding, were you?”

He shook his head, then took the hoof and shook. “Not at all. Thank you for coming. My real name’s Yoshida Hiroshi,” he replied in her language.

Goro bowed deeply as did his wife and everyone in the group. Passersby wondered who the unicorn was, or wondered how severe the situation was for that group that it required such a deep bow.

“Please, get up. You don’t need to do that for me,” she said. To their surprise, it was Japanese.

“You speak Japanese?” Kyoko asked.

Hoofdini grinned. “Magical amplification spell. Speed-read through a Rosetta Stone program while I was in flight. Admittedly, I could have just used a simple translation spell, but those don’t always get the nuances, and I’ve learned from experience that shortcuts aren’t always worth it.”

“Thank you again,” Kyoko said, her eyes watering. “You’re our only hope.”

She removed her glasses and grinned, revealing beautiful amethyst-purple eyes. “Thank Batsu here. I promised him I would. And the Great and Powerful Trixie always keeps her promises.”

化け物, 第4章

Subaru woke up and stretched. Tonight, instead of doing the usual things, she grinned, it’d be a romantic night. Candlelight dinner, watch a movie, snuggle a bit. Part of her wanted to do the usual, but…well, Daisuke was mortal, after all, and if she wanted a consort for a lifetime she needed to take care of him, let him rest and keep his strength up.

Maybe after I have this body permanently I’ll be able to teach him some magic, she thought to herself. That way he can learn how to be immortal and use rejuvenation spells and the two of us can just be together. She giggled girlishly; she’d always wanted to travel outside of Japan and she hadn’t done so since…well, it was a long time. She’d have to discuss with him ideas for a honeymoon though he would probably say Hawaii, she was kinda leaning towards New Zealand.

Getting off the hospital bed, she conjured up a mirror. She was starting to look good, now. The proto-hands she’d had were now hands in full. Her legs had changed, formed feet. Her snout was now gone and a separate nose and mouth were there; she could bring back the snout at any time, but…well, certain things were easier with separate body parts. Oh, and turning around she’d noticed the tail had split into three distinct tails. Not perfect, but getting there. She waved her hand and the tails disappeared, just like normal.

All in all, she was the picture of human beauty. And in four days, she’d have her normal beauty back. And then she could be – and would be anything for her Daisuke. And then they could discuss the future, whether that was as conqueror of this world, or maybe…well, I wouldn’t mind being just a housewife….

Why are you doing this to me? Subaru heard the voice clearly in her head. I know who you are, Subaru – who you really are. But why me? Subaru looked at the mirror again and there was the soul of the pegasus whose body this used to belong to. Ueda Tsubasa.

“Well, I could say this is punishment for theft, but really? It’s nothing personal. If any of your friends had picked it up and tried to use it, I would have taken them instead. And, frankly? You have a lot of issues to work through, missy. I’m just going to give you life as a ghost to do so – being a disembodied spirit isn’t so bad after the first few decades. You’ll get used to it.”

But that’s my body!

“Listen: there are worse things than having someone else in the driver’s seat okay? How would you like to have your own body turned to stone and a ghoul claiming to be your ghost haunt the place while you’re spiritually imprisoned somewhere else for centuries, huh?”

I thought you said it was thousands of years, you liar! Tsubasa said, beating against the inside of the mirror. Give me back my body and let Ryuji-kun go!

Subaru laughed heartily at that. “You lovestruck naïve fool, so believing in fairytales and shōjō romance manga. You want to know how you could have gotten his heart form the beginning? There is a reason they call it ‘riding someone like a pony’, after all.” She could feel Tsubasa cringe at that; after all, at least for a few more days, this was still her body. “Now, I’ve got to prepare for a nice romantic evening between me and my lover. So you get back to being a nice potential poltergeist and…go whatever ghosts do, okay?” With that, she waved her hand and made the mirror disappear.

Now then, where was I…oh, yes. She summoned a small handbell and rang it; a few minutes later, several staff members of the hospital, thoroughly ensorcelled, walked into the room. “Now, I’ve got an important dinner tonight with my betrothed, so I’d like to keep things quiet, understood?”

“Yes, mistress,” they cooed as one.

“Dr. Ishikawa, I need someone from the hospital staff to come up with a nice meal. Something suitable for a dinner for two – maybe, Italian? French? I’m not too familiar with either of those countries, so I’ll leave that up to you. Dr. Thompson, I believe you play violin, right – I think that’s what that biwa-like thing is called, anyway – you’ll be playing that tonight. Nurse Kagawa, I see you have some of those fashion magazines, so I need help picking out formal wear for me and Daisuke. I could wear a kimono, but I’d really like to try one of those dinner dress things. Oh, and Nurse Sanwa, I need this place cleaned and made spotless. Also, some furniture, as well. And is it too much to get a large futon? Hospital beds are sturdy enough for sex, but you really can’t snuggle well in them.”

“Yes, mistress,” the enthralled staff replied in unison.

“Good. Now get going.” And while they all shuffled away, Subaru conjured up that tablet device she’d removed from the orderly she’d killed the other day. She was using it to try to acquaint herself with the modern world; while she had all of Tsubasa’s memories as well as the ones from when she was alive so long ago, there were hundreds of years she had to catch up on. After all, whatever she and Daisuke decided they were going to do next, it wouldn’t do to be so provincial and out of date. And she owed it to him to be as modern and cosmopolitan as possible – a guy like him deserved a proper mate, after all.

Sitting in Tsubasa’s bedroom, Trixie looked at the stone instantly and knew it wasn’t a genderstone – it looked like one, but it wasn’t one in the slightest. And I should know; I helped Twilight make the very first one for her niece, she mused. Her mind wandered off to her old friend and former rival; she hadn’t heard from Twilight in a few weeks now and they often kept in touch. Maybe she’s just wrapped up in work again. I did suggest to her that she come back to Vegas and unwind at my place; maybe I can get Sweetie to drag her. Probably kicking, screaming, and “the Guild will fall apart if I’m not at my desk!” Honestly, Twi, you work too much. Heh. Then again, Entertainment Weekly didn’t call me “The Hardest Working Showmare in the Business” for nothing.

But that was her chosen profession: as a stage illusionist and performer. This, this called upon true magic and also had the life of an innocent depending on it. Now if I can figure out what this is, I’ll have a clue how to proceed next.

“Lulamoon-san?” Trixie turned and saw Yuka standing there, sorrow etched on her face. “Will you be able to save Tsu-chan? I mean, no offense, but….”

“You read up on me and found out I’m a Vegas performer, right?” Trixie asked. Yuka nodded and Trixie gave her a smile. “I’m a very powerful unicorn, but I chose not to join the Guild because the stage is my true calling. My friend Twilight Sparkle, the head of the Guild, told me herself that you have to have a passion to be a Guild mage and if I didn’t, I shouldn’t waste my time joining. And she was right – I wouldn’t have been happy. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have the ability. I mean, look at Daigo Yamada. He used to be a pitcher for the Dodgers, and before that, the Nippon Ham Fighters here in Japan, if I remember correctly. But he much preferred to be a sports journalist instead, so he left baseball and now he’s ESPN’s expert on the LA Vikings – that’s the NFL, an entirely different sport. He could go back to baseball at any time and probably be a star again, but he wants to do what makes him happy. And isn’t that what we all want?”

Yuka started crying again. “But that’s what Tsu-chan did and look what happened to her! I mean…she made a mistake, but she doesn’t deserve to die!”

Trixie reached over and enveloped the younger female in a hug, letting the girl cry her heart out. “I’ll get her back, Yuka-san. I’ll do whatever it takes.” As the girl stopped crying, Trixie looked at her with a comforting smile. “Sometimes we take shortcuts we shouldn’t. Sometimes we’re too impatient and we look for happiness in the wrong way. But happiness isn’t an elixir or a philosopher’s stone or legal contracts with annoying magical critters or….”

…or a philosopher’s stone…

The thought beat a bell in her head. She let go of the girl immediately, turning on her laptop and gunning over to Encyclopedia Mythica:

The philosopher’s stone (Latin: lapis philosophorum) is a legendary human magic artifact said to be capable of amplifying a user’s magic abilities. In the hands of non-magical users, it was said to be an alchemical catalyst capable of transmuting base metals (e.g. lead) into gold or silver via a process known as chrysopoeia. It was also sometimes believed to be able to turn water into an elixir of life, giving the drinker of said elixir perpetual rejuvenation and thus functional immortality.

The stone was proven to be a myth when alchemy was disproven as a science, leading towards the basis of modern chemistry.

Trixie continued to read through the page until she got to the points she wanted: the stone was made of two mythical elements called carmot and alkahest. Immediately she removed the stone from the case and her horn glowed with magenta energy as she cast a quick spell. Spellfire encircled the object, coursing over each portion of its surface until glowing numbers appeared over portions of the stone. She held those numbers in place while she quickly looked over the notes the Uedas had given regarding their discussion with the dragon mage and zebra shamaness. Finally, she punched up Wikipedia on a different tab in her browser, comparing atomic numbers.

He thought this was just a stone of cinnabar and obsidian. But it’s not; the atomic weights are far different. These are carmot and alkahest! This isn’t pony magic we’re dealing with. Holy Celestia on Her Throne…

…this is human magic.

Trixie put the stone back in its case, completely floored as to what was in her possession. Something that shouldn’t exist. Something that was supposed to have been in humanity’s past since the 7th century. It was now common knowledge that humanity once had magic, but that it had died out long ago, forcing mankind to forge a future based on science alone.

And yet, here it was, undeniable. Something that could fundamentally change, once again, everything humanity knew about itself. Something that could change the other magic-using species as well. This was, to use a saying her agent was fond of, “lightning in a bottle”, a disruptive object in the worst way.

Yuka noticed Trixie’s reaction immediately. “Did you find something?”

“I need to know where she got this from,” Trixie told the Japanese teen in a grave tone. “Did she say anything about where she got this?”

Instantly the window to the room exploded as a figure came in. He had just enough time to get his feet on the ground before he thrust his palms at both Yuka and Trixie. The blasts of force that emanated from his palms staggered them back, but nothing else. But it was enough for the man to grab the case holding the philosopher’s stone and dive out the window where he came.

As the glass settled, both Yuka and Trixie looked at each other then at the window their assailant used as an entry and escape.

“Oh no, you’re not getting away from me!” Trixie shouted, leaping out the window after him. She immediately cast a magic spell and as she hit the ground, leapt forward at an incredible height, following him as he leapt from rooftop to rooftop in an attempt to escape his pursuer. As for Yuka, she watched as the other two leapt from rooftop to rooftop, as if life decided it wanted to take a turn for the weird and go into anime physics.

Goro and Kyoko suddenly raced into the room, seeing the shocked Yuka, no sign of Trixie, and the broken window. They then looked out the window just enough to see Trixie leap over a two story home in the distance, in pursuit of some other individual before both disappeared from view.

Goro then looked at his wife, who looked back at him in complete puzzlement.

Lying on the bed, watching Daisuke’s form, Subaru enjoyed lying there in the dark, just watching. They’d had a wonderful dinner – those Italians, whoever invented the food, really knew how to cook! Then there was the movie – Sakura no Hatsukoi, a beautiful film about a girl and her first love; while Subaru had plenty of romances before, there was something different about this time. And dancing with Daisuke – there was something about this “slow dancing” that she didn’t understand, but it was intimate and beautiful. And he’d complimented her in how she looked in her sapphire blue dinner dress, while he wore something called a “tuxedo”, something that made him look elegant and refi—

What is happening to me? she thought, her hands going to her face. When she’d taken over the body the first time, she’d had every plan to destroy Japan, conquer the world and most of all, get revenge on her sister after all these years. Hell, she’d only started fucking Daisuke for her needs and she might as well screw someone handsome. But as each day was going by, the conquering of the world was becoming less important. Destroying Japan was becoming less important. Even getting revenge on her older sister…well that was still important, but Subaru wasn’t as sure she was going to kill her sister, now.

What was suddenly becoming important? Being the best girl for Daisuke. Graduating from college and getting a degree. Seeing the world and enjoying it. And settling down with Daisuke and raising a family.

She shook her head, her eyes growing wide with fright. Something was happening to her, and she knew what: even as she was claiming this body and killing Tsubasa, she was becoming a replacement for the Japanese teen. She’d corrupted Tsubasa by taking over her body, but…Tsubasa, in turn, had corrupted her by making Subaru a normal Japanese girl via the stolen memories.

She looked at Daisuke and suddenly wondered what it would be like to kill him, rend him, tear him apart and soak in his entrails. But if she laid her hand on him in anything other than love, she’d hurt herself far more than he ever would – and she knew it. The only thing she truly wanted to do right now was to snuggle next to him and just play with his hair, and watch him sleep before having to wake him up so he wouldn’t be late for school.

She went and looked at the almost entirely red moon and a tear suddenly rolled down her cheek. When this all started over nearly two weeks ago, she saw this as her chance to free herself from the prison that was the philosopher’s stone. Instead, she’d subsumed her way into another prison, the worst kind possible…

…a prison she now liked and never wanted to leave.

When did my life become an episode of Magical Princess Dancer Mango? Trixie wondered as she bounded from rooftop to rooftop in hot pursuit. Her attacker already had a three-house lead ahead of her and was increasing that distance, simply because he was taller and humans seemed better suited for this strange Tokyo method of pursuit than ponies ever were. That didn’t mean she was going to give up, though.

Part of her wanted to throw some magic blasts at him in the hopes of slowing him down, but she saw the episode where Dancer Mango chased down the Gypsy Emperor on rooftops in…wait, it was around here! she thought, noticing a very familiar building to her left, one she’d seen in animated form last week. But magic blasts in the Dancerverse worked very differently than in real life. In the anime franchise, they’d just create harmless heart-shaped sparkles if someone missed. In real life, someone would have a huge hole in their ceiling, and just that only if they were lucky.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t have plans up my sleeve. Already she was coming up with an idea. It was probably going to hurt; hopefully him more than her if she played her cards right. But he was gaining ground and she wasn’t sure she could keep this up any longer. They were already a few miles – wait, that’s kilometers, this is a metric country – away from the Ueda house and she had no idea how she was going to get back. She just knew she had to stop him while she had the chance.

She closed her eyes and her horn began to flare with the burgundy hue of power – then exploded as her body became a comet. She rocketed forward at a whiplash speed, her body torpedoing into her assailant and crashing both of them into the side of a building, where they hit hard enough to crater its side before falling to the ground, three floors below.

Her head screaming, Trixie forced herself back to her hindhooves. Her vision was spinning and she felt like she’d gone a few rounds with a heavyweight boxer, but she couldn’t give up – there was a girl’s life at stake and Trixie couldn’t afford to give up. Ignoring the pain, she flared up her power once more and unleashed a blast of eldritch fire at the assailant, hitting him square and knocking him out…

…then watched as his form melted away, becoming a very frightened raccoon, holding onto the case for dear life, but at the same time terrified of her.

What the…?

“Take one more step towards Ponpoko-kun and I’ll end your life where you stand,” a voice said behind her in harsh tones, then softer ones as she called out, “Come here, Ponpoko-kun. I’ll make sure the bad sorceress doesn’t hurt you.” Trixie turned around and found an old woman standing there, holding a ball of swirling blue energy in her hand.

Trixie stared the woman down. With a slashing motion, she said, “So the one behind this. I’m going to give you just once chance to undo what you did, and if not, I’m going to get very Nightmare Moon on your plot.”

“Missie, you look to be a strong enough magic-user, but you’re not strong enough to beat me. I’ve got thousands of years of expertise, and no matter how old you might be, I’m betting it’s not enough.” The ball in the woman’s hand grew larger still and brighter. Swirls of fire began to encircle it, giving the appearance of an oversized atom.

“I don’t care,” Trixie seethed, her horn powering up. “You hurt an innocent girl and used a monster to possess her – I already know the story. Now this is your last warning: let Ueda Tsubasa go, or I swear I’ll—”

“Wait, you work for the Uedas?” the woman said, surprised.

“Yes. They requested my assistance and I do not let down those who need my help.”

The woman relaxed and cancelled her spell. “I’ve been trying to save the Ueda girl myself, but I needed to get this back.”

“Then why did your pet raccoon—”

“Tanuki, not a raccoon. And Ponpoko and his family have served me for generations – they’re retainers, not pets.”

“Whatever,” Trixie said, thinking it could be a tamed parasprite for all she cared. “Why do you need the philosopher’s stone back?”

The woman grinned knowingly. “So you know what it is, then. One of the last surviving artifacts of human magic.”

“Yes, yes I do.” There was no use in hiding it, Trixie decided; either this woman was genuine or planning a trap and Trixie wasn’t about to fall for either.

The woman sighed. “Look…I need to talk to the Uedas. I’ve been by their café twice, but they’ve been out since their daughter was possessed by my sister’s spirit. And we only have a few days left to save that poor pegasus girl.”

“Your sister?” Trixie said, incredulous.

The woman nodded. “I told you we need to discuss this with the Uedas. And I think your considerable power might come in handy, Trixie Lulamoon.”

Now it was Trixie’s turn to grin. “So you know who I am, then.”

“Your reputation – your true one, not the stagecraft of your profession – precedes you, Great and Powerful one. My colleagues have been watching you ever since you arrived on their world.”

“Their world? Not yours?”

“You might be interested in what I have to say. But let us talk to the Uedas, first. Theirs is the more urgent matter.”

It was eleven in the evening when Trixie returned to the Ueda house with the old woman in tow. They recognized her as old Kappabashi-san from the traditional Chinese medicine store. She in turn requested bandages so she could care for the tanuki as well as to call everyone involved. Half an hour later, Riho, Junko, and Yoshida had joined Yuka and the Uedas in the main room of their house.

“I think you should start,” Trixie said.

“Yes, I should. You all know me as Kappabashi Utane, but that’s a lie. The truth is…” she said, closing her eyes and pausing as her body started to glow and shimmer. When it was done, it left a woman in her twenties with red hair and a body like that made the three teenage girls jealous. But, to their surprise, she had the black-tipped tell-tale ears of a fox – and nine tails behind her.

She opened her eyes, revealing beautiful leaf-green eyes. “…history knows me as Kuzu no Ha, the Mother of Sorcerers, the Holy Nine-Tailed Fox. But I was something else before that. One of those things I was, and still am, is a sister. And that’s why I’m here. Your daughter is being possessed by the spirit of my sister – Tamamo no Mae, The Murderer of Emperors, The Demon Nine-Tailed Fox.”

The room went silent as the Japanese people in the room were shocked, to say the least. Kuzunoha was fabled as the wife of Abe no Yasuna, the first of the famed onmyōji, Japanese sorcerers who defended the court in Heiankyo – ancient Kyoto – from dozens of threats. And she was the mother of the legendary Abe no Seimei, the greatest sorcerer who ever lived; Yoshida had once participated in an online discussion where dozens of people around the world argued whether Seimei or Merlin was the better mythical sorcerer. But unlike Merlin, Seimei was actually believed to have lived. But wasn’t believed was that his mother, Kuzunoha, wasn’t human, but instead a kitsune, a magical nine-tailed fox.

“You’re real?” Yoshida asked.

“Well,” Kuzunoha said, “it’s not polite to ask a woman her age, but, yes, the famous Abe clan are my descendants. I’ve long since left them go by and forged my own path, but I remember my husband and son and sometimes wish they could be with me. But life isn’t that lucky.”

“But how could you be the sister of Tamamo no Mae?” Riho asked. “She was defeated by your great-grandson Abe no Yasuchika after she murdered the Heian emperor and his court.”

“That wasn’t Yasuchika,” she said, sadly. “In truth, she’d murdered him and I had to put down my sister myself. But I guess I should start at the beginning.” She looked at them all and lastly Trixie. “And that beginning starts on what we now call Alter-Earth, in the nation of Inari.”

“Wait…you’re from Inari?” Trixie asked. “But that would mean you’ve been on this Earth for longer than the Lost Foal was!”

“About six thousand years,” Kuzunoha explained. “And I deserved it, too, as did my sister – punishment for daring to threaten the peace of Queen Faust.”

“Queen Faust sent you here?” Trixie suddenly wished she’d paid more attention in ancient history class, because she didn’t remember this being brought up.

“I guess history has forgotten us,” Kuzunoha replied softly. “I guess that is my fate. In any case, my sister and I were known as the Bandit Queens of Inari, back when it was just a collection of small fiefdoms under warlords who constantly fought against one another. My sister and I thought that it would be pointless to get involved in that, so we sailed East, over the horizon and to the Northwestern Continent, where we came into contact with the Dominion of Equus.”

Trixie suddenly brightened as recollection kicked in. “That was the name of Queen Faust’s realm, the ancient pony homeland before it was separated into the three pony tribes and long before Equestria was founded.”

“Exactly. In any case, our followers followed us right to the gates of the ancient Castle of Equus, where we intended to slay Faust and her followers. She’d had a number of incursions onto her territory and her military was all but depleted. We waged a bloody war for weeks against the Equusites and I honestly don’t remember how many good stallions and mares I butchered, who committed no action other than protecting their homes.” The look on Kuzunoha’s face was sad, and she looked truly repentant.

“Finally, Faust herself entered the battle and the moment she did, my sister and I thought victory was at hand. More fools we – she then produced a set of weapons so powerful I have rarely seen their like. The Elements of Harmony – she hit us with them as hard as possible, and in that moment, we were defeated and not only had tasted the flavor of bitter defeat, but for the first time knew terror as we were about to be killed by the mare we would have had no problem butchering had the situation been different.

“For our crimes, she stripped us of followers – our fellow foxes were arrested and shipped back to Inari. But for us, we were robbed of our magic, with no hope of ever recovering it. She then banished us to another plane of existence, where we would suffer in the most cruel way possible: we would take the form of the dominant creature present and should we ever decide to change back to foxes, we would be mocked by only being able to shapeshift our ears and our nine tails befitting us as Royal Foxes; only once a year would Faust have mercy on us and let us have our true forms for a day.

“My sister and I spent time together, learning the ways of humans and bickering about who was more responsible for our loss to Faust. Finally, one day we agreed to go our separate ways. I chose to wander around the world, learn from it and adjust to my new home, this Earth. I didn’t know what my sister did at the time, but I do now and I grieve for what she became. I wanted to learn, repent and truly prove myself worthy of the second chance Faust gave me. But my sister, well – she has many names. ‘Whore of Babylon’, ‘She Who Lays With Many’, and so many others, none of them good.

“One of the things that I think had been a loophole of being given a human form was that, robbed of my fox magic, I was now able somehow to learn human magic – and while learning it I learned the truth about human magical arts: humans don’t need magic; they’re better off without it. It’s a corrupting influence, and only the strongest – my son, Merlin of Brittania, and few others throughout history – are able to wield it with any kind of true morality. Otherwise, it makes you a monster – absolute power corrupts absolutely, just as it did my sister, though I didn’t know this at the time.

“I had just returned back to Japan, the land where I had first arrived, where I met my husband – he freed me after I’d been captured by a hunter on the day I’d been able to change into a fox, but as a fox I really don’t have access to my human magic, as part of the curse Faust laid on me. I married Yasuna, had a son and once my son was grown I settled down as the priestess of the local shrine.” Noting the confused looks on the faces of the humans, she added, “Yes, I know the legends are different, but I’m telling you what happened. Choose to believe my side of the story or not, history has already made its decision.

“In any case, my grandson had just given birth to his child when I’d heard about the court of a Chinese emperor slain in totality by one of his concubines. That she’d committed atrocities, things that would make you blush even in this modern day and age. And that she disappeared like a fox in the night. I didn’t need to guess who it was and my heart sank; though I’d learned my lesson, my beloved sister was up to her old ways.

“But it wasn’t until Yasuchika was a grown man with his own wife and children that I was to learn of how bad it would be. The emperor had taken a new concubine, a beautiful young girl from a distant town whose name he could not remember. She called herself Tamamo no Mae and once in the court she wasted no time getting into court intrigue. She slept with anything she could: men and women, though stories wouldn’t tell of those days. She beguiled the emperor himself into listening to her and her only. And while she tried to seduce Yasuchika, though he didn’t know who or what she was he was cautious enough of the danger she presented to be wary around her. I am both proud of him for doing that and disgusted my sister would go so far. But even I didn’t know how far she would go yet.

“One day, without warning, she walked through the Rashomon, the Southern Demon Gate of Heiankyo, and proceeded to slaughter anything that she came across and as she kept going she got more sadistic and cruel. Finally, Yasuchika intervened and…and….” At this point, Kuzunoha broke into teary sobs; though this was ancient history for the humans, it was clear it was a wound that had never healed for her. After a few minutes and her tanuki assistant trying to hug her with its small paws, she managed to regain her composure. “I’m sorry. I’ve never gotten over what she did to him and to be honest, I should be glad there was enough of him that I could bury.” The ominousness of that statement made everyone in the room queasy. “But the emperor and his wife she was most cruel. What she did to him was the stuff of nightmares and no horror movie could ever equate what she did.

“I couldn’t stand by any longer. I hunted my sister as far as what is now Tochigi and there we waged a magic battle that scarred the earth for decades. Finally, to stop my sister I committed an atrocity of my own, one for which I hope to be forgiven for someday: using my philosopher’s stone, I literally ripped her soul from her body and imprisoned it in the stone. Before she could attempt to return to it, I transmuted her body into rock – that which we now call the Killing Stone, the Sessho-seki. Lastly, I summoned a guardian spirit to watch the stone and to prevent anyone from approaching it. I named the creature Hōji, and until the day he was defeated in battle, he did his duty to me, though due to the corrupted aura my sister’s corpse gave off, it addled his mind until he believed he was the vengeful spirit of my sister.

“I then left Japan and traveled the world, never settling down, always watching for any chance my sister would try to free herself from the stone. After a century, she stopped and I was free to return to Japan now and then – the second time, back in the 1400s, is how I met Ponpoko’s ancestor, and how they pledged their eternal loyalty to me. Meanwhile, I traveled around the world and documented the strange – and, if I may be truthful, thankful – disappearance of magic from this world until it was a shadow of itself and only a few scattered objects were left.

“I returned to Japan back in 1952 – Japan was just recovering from its loss in the Second World War, so it was incredibly easy to pretend my records were destroyed; the Abes have secret records in case I ever need them – I do keep in touch with a few of my descendants – but far easier just to settle in. Though I have red hair, I could easily claim a gaijin ancestor and if you want to be technical, I am the gaijin ancestor…for the Abes, that is. But I settled down and changed names occasionally until I decided to pretend to be Kappabashi Utane for a few decades. Illusion magic comes in handy, doesn’t it?

“I’d actually planned for Kappabashi to pass away next year, after which I was going to move to a new house I bought in Boston. But then this happened and it’s thrown all my plans to the wind.”

The room was silent as they digested everything they’d just heard. After a few minutes, Goro spoke. “How could you let my little girl get her hands on such a dangerous object? And how did she activate it?”

Kuzunoha’s eyes were hard. “Ueda-san, you may not be aware, but your daughter stole the object from my store. As to how she activated it, well, there should have been no way she really could have, since she’s umajin. But…I failed to consider that since she was raised by humans, in her mind she is one, and thus opened the door for human magic. Had she been raised by her fellow umajin, as Lulamoon-san here was, it would have been impossible, and I’d thought at most she’d spend a few days with a useless trinket before she came back and apologized for her crime. But in mind if not in form, your daughter is human and that was just enough to activate the spell. I never expected that, so I never created a protection against that. If we recover it and save your daughter, that will be an extra dimension I will have to consider in the future.”

“Then why are you here? She’s in the hospital and that thing – your sister – is in my daughter’s body!” Kyoko cried.

“I understand. But my sister has already activated a spell called Shin Seikatsu no Okite, The Law of New Life – that’s what’s causing the strange Eternal Moon effect the astronomers are wondering about. It’s a lunar spell, and…I’m sure you’re already aware of this, but it requires a lot of tantric magic. Your daughter won’t be a virgin once we recover her body, and I think you should be aware of that.”

“She’ll always be one to me,” Yoshida blurted out and everyone stared at him until he realized his Freudian slip and turned bright red.

Yuka grinned, clapping her childhood friend on the back. “Hiroshi, you are such an idiot.”

Kuzunoha ignored the aside and continued. “But if we interrupt the spell now, we risk either ripping both souls out of the body, in which case your daughter will die, or we rip the wrong soul out of the body, in which case the same thing occurs and Tama gets to start mayhem all over again. No, at this point, the safest way to save your daughter is to wait until Tama triggers the final part of the spell. Once she does, there will be a window of vulnerability where I can use a special spell I created for this eventuality, Sanzugawa no Kanmon, The Barrier of the River Sanzu, one devised to kill my sister once and for all. With her gone, the spell will cancel out and Tsubasa will be returned to her body.”

“But are you sure?” Riho asked. “I obviously know nothing about magic, but that seems a little too dangerous to be on hoping the spell will just cancel on its own.”

Kuzunoha nodded. “I agree with you, and normally Ponpoko or one of his family would assist me in this. But they’ve been taxed to their limit searching for you all this time and they’re too drained to do so. Which is why I will need to teach you the spell, Lulamoon-san. That way you can banish my sister for once and for all while I create a spell to ensure Tsubasa’s soul remains in her body.”

“But if it’s a human magic spell, I can’t use it,” Trixie explained.

“I know. Fortunately, we’ve got three days to rewrite the spell so it works with umajin magic.”

Trixie paused, uncertain. Disembodied spirit or not, she was being asked to kill someone. And even when corrupted by the so-called Alicorn Amulet, she’d never wanted to do that to Twilight. Embarrass, sure. Humiliate, oh definitely. Run out of town? Check. But kill? Maybe her grandfather, Presto Lulamoon, the Archmagus of the Guild years before Twilight or Trixie studied magic, would have had the courage to do what needed to be done. But Trixie wasn’t a Guild mage – nor was she a killer.

She shook her head. “I’m…sorry. I can’t. You’re asking me to take a life. And I don’t think I have the courage to.”

Kuzunoha looked at her. “Lulamoon-san, you must. I can’t teach you the other spell – that kind of magic is intricate and I’ll be weaving multiple spells at once. It might even possibly kill me to protect Tsubasa. But it will all be in vain if my sister’s spirit survives.”

“You promised me you would bring Tsu-chan back,” Yuka accused. “You promised me!”

Trixie looked at their faces, some in tears, some in shock, one or two in anger. And she turned and walked away, feeling for the third time in her life like a failure.

“Daisuke?”

“Yes, my love,” he said, dully.

“Are you mad at me?” she asked. In their bed, for a change, he hadn’t wanted sex. And she didn’t want to give it to him. Something in her – and she knew what it was – told her she should save herself for marriage now. And she listened to that voice.

“No, why should I be, my love?” he asked.

“Because we didn’t have sex tonight,” she answered.

He smiled. “That’s not important. Being with you is,” he replied.

To anyone else, that would sound romantic. But to her, she knew it was a lie. She looked into his eyes, seeing how dull they were. He didn’t love her. This was still him in thrall. But she was now hopelessly in love with him, hopelessly wanting to be his. Not just as someone to sleep with, but someone to cuddle with, go on dates with, meet his parents and get their approval to marry him. Spend forever with him, have his children and grow old with…well, that part was going to be a little hard. But her sister had children and grandchildren and a whole line of descendants. She wanted that too. A week ago, the person she was then would have told her she was insane, but now? She would have laughed in that person’s face.

She was tired of being Tamamo no Mae. For the first time in her life, she really wanted to be just Subaru.

“My Subaru, is something wrong?” he asked, looking at her with those glassy eyes and vapid expression.

“No. I just…well, you have to get up to go to school. And I’m going to be unavailable for the next few days. But afterwards, we’ll be together forever. And I want to meet your family and your friends. And we’ll go to school together, okay? I want to see you win the Kōshien.”

“I’ll do it for you,” he said in monotone.

She gave him a smile, then kissed him gently and softly teleported him back to his bedroom so he could get ready for the school day. And once she did, she started to cry. She already missed him at her side. Had this been the old days of Heiankyo, he would be a man and she could just settle down and be his wife – Kuzu’s husband was just 14 when they married, after all. But in this modern, sterile world, he wouldn’t be a man until he was 20 – an old man by the standards of those long bygone days.

She got up and felt her fox ears and noted her nine tails, her transformation now complete. The body was now hers, and in three days, she could exorcise its former owner out of it. Tsubasa would be alone, disembodied, for all time until she either moved on to the afterlife or became a vengeful spirit as Tamamo no Mae did.

“I’m so sorry, Tsubasa,” she whispered. “I’m sorry this had to happen to you. You don’t deserve it.”

Then give me back my body! Tsubasa’s voice said from somewhere beyond.

“I can’t. It’s too late to stop now. You can’t feel my tears, can you?”

No, I can’t. Are you crying?

“Yes, yes I am. And I’m crying because I hurt you and I can’t take it back. And you can’t feel me crying, because I now own this body. It’s not yours anymore. And in three days, the spell I preset will go off and you’ll be gone. But I want you to know…I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. And I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I can’t even ask for that.”

I…I don’t know what to say. I miss my parents and my friends, and…I want to see them again! There was a hint of anger in that last part of the thought.

“No! Don’t do that!” Subaru cried. “Don’t give into anger. All you’ll do is become a vengeful spirit like I did, and make the same mistakes I have. I…I don’t want that for you.”

I see. Could you create a new body for me then?

“I could try, but…it’s the excorism spell. That will go off before I can create a body for you and there won’t be a soul to put in the body. And since I set the spell to go off no matter what, I can’t cancel it.” Subaru slumped against the wall, hating herself for what she’d done.

Don’t cry, Tsubasa told her. I’m going to die now, but just…don’t cry. I…I forgive you. You’ve killed me and…I forgive you.

“NO!” Subaru screamed. “Don’t! I don’t deserve it!”

All the same, it’s the right thing to do. And if I’m going to die, I don’t want to die with regrets and become a yōkai.

Subaru just kept crying, couldn’t stop crying. Tsubasa, in the end was a better person than the nine-tailed fox would ever be. And now it was too late to stop what Subaru had done.

Tamamo no Mae had won this latest battle. And she’d hate herself forever for that victory.

Sitting on top of the Ueda house, Trixie was casting the strongest communications spell she could. “Twilight, if you’re awake I need to talk to you. Please.”

The answer she got was one she hadn’t expected. “Trixie, dear, is that you? This is Rarity. How have you been?”

Rarity? “Rarity, what are you doing on Twilight’s magical call channel?” Magical call channels were something that only Guild members possessed; Trixie wasn’t supposed to have one, but as strong as Trixie was, Twilight authorized one for her “just in case.” But she didn’t know Rarity had one.

“It’s a bit complicated to explain, dear, but the long and the short of it is that I’m handling all of Twilight’s ‘mundane’ issues, as it were, while she tackles our big problem.”

Mundane issues? Why isn’t the Guild…? “Rarity, is everything okay?”

Rarity explained everything, from Nightmare Moon and her return to the second battle between them and the demonic alicorn, and that this time they were on the losing side. “So I’ve been trying to use what little magic I have to handle her current concerns for her while she powers the spell that keeps us alive. I know this is a dreadful thing to say, but with my sister incapacitated, you are now the strongest unicorn standing, Trixie. And if things don’t get better, you’ll be the strongest unicorn, period.”

“No….” she breathed. She never wanted that. Tears started to burn in her eyes. Years ago, when she was overproud and stupid she would have loved every bit of Rarity’s statement but now? She’d throw every bit of her magic away if it would heal them. “Don’t say that, Rarity. You four will stand strong in no time flat. Everypony’s rooting for you, including me.”

“Thank you, Trixie. It means a lot to me that you would say that. But I gather you wanted to talk to Twilight for some reason and she’s asleep currently. Is there anything I can do to assist you?”

“I need some advice.” Trixie then explained everything on her end, in some cases having to re-explain or dumb down things as Rarity wasn’t even remotely versed in advanced spellcraft. She then finished it up with, “And so I’m at an impasse. I either kill somebody or someone innocent dies.”

“I see. Well, it might interest you to know that we went in this last time to fight Nightmare Moon with the intention of killing her.”

Something sounded odd about that. Twilight wasn’t the kind that…none of the Bearers were the kind to do so. “Why? That’s never been your modus operandi before.”

“I know. And before we went into battle the six of us discussed it. Twilight was against it, as was I. Applejack was for it, as was Rainbow and Fluttershy. Pinkie, of course, acted as if she completely missed the point – we’ve always loved that about her.”

“Wait – Fluttershy was for killing Nightmare Moon?”

“Trixie, dear, you have to understand how much parenthood has changed her – or any of us. Applejack was for it for the same reason. But I thought it would only make things worse for my two foals.” Trixie knew the story as to why Rarity only claimed to have two foals when she’d had three, but now was not the time to push it. “Pinkie, of course, is as random as always, mother or no.”

“I’m sorry, Rarity. If you’re trying to make a point, I’m not getting it.”

“I was rambling there for a second, dear; my apologies. In any case, all I can say is that you need to do what you feel is right, Trixie. We are not a species that is prone to fighting; we come from prey animals used to running from our problems. And yet there are some problems you can never run from.” Again, the irony in Rarity’s words was up front and personal, but Trixie knew the Bearer of Generosity had probably been pestered on that several times.

“Well, you’ve given me much to think about, Rarity. Thanks for your time, take care and tell Twilight if she doesn’t get you all out of there soon, I’m going to start doubting in her ability to be better than me.” It was an empty boast; Twilight was much stronger than her even in all the growth in her skills Trixie had accomplished, but the friendly teasing would always remain.

“I’ll be sure to tell her that. Do take care of yourself, dear and I hope to see you soon. Ta-ta!”

The call ended and Trixie felt emptier than ever. She’d counted on the Bearers of the Elements themselves, the Knights Elemental, her friends, to give her advice, only to find they had been in a similar situation and just as confused as she. And it didn’t solve her dilemma, not one bit.

But in the end – in three days, I’ll still be alive. And Ueda Tsubasa won’t. And a monster will be born in her stead. Her own voice echoed in her mind, followed closely by Twilight’s words to her: “Trixie, don’t join if you don’t have the passion for it. I don’t want to see you suffering at something you weren’t made for.”

If I act, I’ll kill a monster. But if I don’t act, an innocent girl will die. This is a job for a Guild mage, a strong one – one like you, or Sweetie Belle, or that Star Swirl kid. Or maybe your fellow knights, or your younger dragon brother. But not me. I’m just a performer. I’m not strong enough.

But sometimes a mare’s gotta do what a mare’s gotta do. With that, she leapt off the roof, landing in front of the house. Not too surprisingly, Kuzunoha was standing there. And if it was hard for Trixie to comprehend, how much worse would it be for the immortal nine-tailed fox?

“So you’ve come to a final decision,” Kuzunoha said, not a question.

The azure unicorn nodded. “I came here because I was needed – and because I’m the strongest unicorn standing. And there’s an innocent girl that needs me. So all I have to ask is this: where do we start?”

化け物, 第5章

Subaru reviewed the culmination of her handiwork for the past three days. It was against everything she’d ever stood for – and for a change, she loved it. Tamamo no Mae would have raged against such an opportunity to commit mayhem…but Subaru wasn’t the same Tamamo no Mae she’d been when Tsubasa had released her from the philosopher’s stone.

“Tonight’s the night,” she spoke to Tsubasa’s nearly-disembodied spirit.

Are you sure this is going to work? the nearly-ghostly pegasus asked.

“I sincerely hope so,” Subaru answered. “I’m tired of all of this.”

Well, if it doesn’t work, I just want you to know that I….

“Please, not right now. I don’t think I could stand to cry again,” Subaru said.

It’s what makes us human, Subaru-chan, Tsubsa replied.

“Subaru-chan”, the nine-tailed fox mused. That started the waterworks up again. “You realize how funny that sounds – neither of us are human.”

Yes we are. We didn’t start out that way, but we became that way – me because of my parents, you because of your love for Ryuji-kun. In the back of her mind, Subaru could feel the pegasus sigh. I guess I’ll have to give up on him now.

“Don’t say that – I’m going to bring you back. I promise.”

No, I mean—

“We’ll talk about that later, promise. But for now,” she said, looking out the window, “it looks like Kuzu-ne’s finally arrived.”

The Nissan Sylphy Presea cut its way through the traffic on the way to Sanseki Hospital. In the car were two women, neither human, though one appeared to be. As they closed in on the hospital, traffic became less and less, and finally once they drove into the parking garage across the street from it, they hadn’t seen a soul for blocks around.

As they got out of the car, Trixie looked at the sky. As if the setting required a flare for the dramatic, a column of burning red energy emanated from the hospital, reaching into the sky where it created a massive vortex of power. Clouds were drawn to it as if moths to a flame, and in concert with the blood red that seemed to fill the sky, it was an ominous, dark portent.

“So you’re sure only magic users can see the column?” Trixie asked.

Kuzunoha nodded. “Well, just active magic users – pegasi, earth ponies and others who use it passively might sense something’s up, but nothing else save for a sense of foreboding. As for people, well…you saw as well as I did: the area’s devoid of life for whole squares of blocks. Thankfully, that will reduce the chance of innocents getting caught in the crossfire.”

“That’s good to know. Anyway, it’s showtime!” Her horn lit with energy and her casual clothing changed into her performance attire: a button up, long sleeve shimmering silk shirt that looked blue, aqua or purple, depending on how the light hit it; black slacks and black oxfords.

Kuzunoha looked at Trixie. “Going for the David Copperfield look?”

Trixie nickered playfully. “While I can just get around in Equestria with a magician’s hat and cape, management at the Aqua Maré prefers something in human modesty and I’m not one for the hat, tie, tails and fishnet stockings. Besides, David was a big help in getting me started in the circuit and he’s a wonderful gentleman to know. Oh, and you should see his private collection of magic artifacts. I thought they were the real thing, honestly.”

“And now?”

The unicorn shrugged as if that was all that needed to be said. She then looked at her counterpart and said, “Shrine maiden outfit, really?” Sure enough, the nine-tailed fox stood there in the red hakama skirt and white haori top emblematic of the Shinto miko.

Kuzunoha laughed. “Who do you think invented it?”

“Touché.” The two walked away from the car, out of the parking garage and walked across the street, towards the grassy area just before the hospital proper. The two could feel the area was alive with magic, so much used that it was practically shimmering in the air like heatwaves. The environs were also heavily scented with the odor of musk, the telltale sign of tantric magic.

“Someone’s been frisky,” Kuzunoha said with distaste.

Trixie sniffed the air and shrugged. “I can’t say I’m not familiar with this scent, but…the life of a showmare doesn’t allow for a steady coltfriend. Or a boyfriend, either. There was this one guy I really liked, lounge singer by the name of James. But he…well, it’s not important, really, and….”

“Do you usually talk this much when prepping for a fight?”

Trixie grinned. “Poor, poor, Kuzunoha, stuck in the old ways of fighting. Don’t you know the good guys are always supposed to quip?”

The kitsune shrugged. “Call me old-fashioned. Anyway, did you memorize the incantation?”

“I did, but is it really necessary? Unicorn magic is just memory triggered.”

“With human magic, it’s vocal triggered. I was never really able to figure out why, but for the first time at least, it has to be vocalized. Afterwards it’s optional, but it’s not as strong if you don’t. I’m sure there’s a reason for it, but I’ll have to consult one of my colleagues sometime.”

A sly look crossed the unicorn’s face. “I’m sure you’re going to tell me abou—”

“Shh,” Kuzunoha said, raising a finger to her lips. “She knows we’re here.”

Sure enough, standing outside the front of the hospital doors, was their adversary. “Hello, sister. It’s good to see you again.” Tamamo no Mae’s white hair contrasted with Kuzunoha’s red, but both had the same unnatural – for humans, anyway – leaf-green eyes. Also contrasting with Kuzunoha’s white-and-red mikogi was Tama’s own gray-and-plum mikogi. Kuzunoha was slightly taller and better built than her sister, but the younger one had the benefit of the cuteness of relative youth.

“Hello, Tama. I wish I could say it was under better circumstances, but I’ve missed you.”

“Have you?” the younger one asked, an eyebrow arching slightly.

“Little sister, even with everything you’ve done, and with what I’m regretfully about to do…I’ve always loved you. Even at my angriest, Tama, I’ve never not cared about my little sister.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Tamamo no Mae said, standing there, somewhat tense, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. “Just…please leave. I…I don’t want to fight you, Kuzu-ne.”

A sad look crossed Kuzunoha’s face. “I didn’t want to do what I did, you know. I cried for years after the fact, and it took me a long time to forgive myself. I never wanted to be in this position again, little sister.”

“Then just leave and let me—”

“Leave? You can’t seriously think we’re going to let you get away with this,” Trixie growled.

Tamamo no Mae looked at the unicorn and then back at her sister. “A unicorn? Faust must have sent her to aid you, I see,” the dark fox told the light one. A dark look crossed her face as she said, “I remember a time when unicorns were barely capable of magic, little more than mewling children hiding under Faust’s apron strings. Let’s see if your tribe has improved any.”

In an insulting manner, Trixie brought out a kerchief, then dusted her hooves on them. Glancing at the dark kitsune slightly, she said in her haughtiest tones, “Here’s the deal. You let Ueda Tsubasa go now, and I will make this painless. If you don’t…well, your sister and I have become good friends and I would hate to break her heart.” Trixie let go of the kerchief and it suddenly burst into flames as she punctuated her statement with, “And believe me – I will make good on my statement.”

“Sister, please…don’t make me do this,” Tamamo no Mae said as she called a ball of burning red energy to her hand.

“Tama, surrender. You’re out of practice and I’ve had centuries of experience since then,” Kuzunoha said, her hands pulsating with blue fire.

“Kuzu-ne, would you tru—” the dark fox began.

“I’m guessing that’s a no, then.” Trixie’s horn flared, becoming a blazing spike of fuschia. There was a huge rumble behind them and without warning, a sizable chunk of the street ripped off from the ground. Pipes burst and wires snapped as the ground around it buckled as the section of earth floated just behind Trixie like a trained dog.

“So be it, unicorn,” Tamamo no Mae snarled as she pulled back, the ball in her hand growing larger and flaring more as she began to release it. She thrust her hand forward and a blast of ruby force ripped from her hands, headed straight towards the unicorn…

…only to impact against a magenta shield that Trixie had brought to bear. Meanwhile, the azure mage had turned her head slightly and the clump of earth responded, acting like a baseball bat and impacting hard against the dark fox, sending her careening into the building. The mound of earth then followed her like a bullet, intending a second, equally as painful impact.

Trixie started to race in, only to have Kuzu grab her arm. “Don’t kill her,” the light fox reminded her. “We need her alive if we’re going to save Tsubasa.”

Trixie nodded. “I know. I just can’t afford to give her breathing space. If she’s even half of everything you’ve told me and what I’ve read in the legends, I can’t afford to let my guard down for one moment.”

“I understand. Just be careful.”

Trixie gave Kuzunoha a wink. “I’ve sparred with the best. And if I can keep up with Twilight Sparkle, there’s no way anyone else is gonna win.” And with that, Trixie sprinted into the building as Kuzunoha started weaving the first set of spells she’d need to stop her sister for once and for all.

With some effort and use of magic, Subaru tossed aside the massive boulder thrown at her. She wasn’t going to lie, both times it hit her it hurt like hell. Either I’m out of practice…or Faust’s followers have truly learned to master their magic. In those olden days – days she would now do anything to forget – unicorns were, at most, capable of levitation, hornlight spells and other mundane, trivial things. To lift something like this would have taken someone like Faust’s right-hoof assistant, Twilight Aurora. Now there was a mage! The unicorn actually managed to fight off several of hers and her sister’s troops until she drew the dark fox into a direct duel, one she barely escaped with her life, victorious.

But she didn’t deserve what I did to her, Subaru mused, sadly. I could have given her mercy…I didn’t. It was so long ago, but…I hope she’s found peace in the afterlife. I hope they all did.

But none of that was going to take her mind off her current problem, which was handling her two opponents. Kuzu-ne was easy: the two knew each other well and that included fighting styles, strengths and weaknesses. Though her sister had centuries more practice since their last battle, Subaru was sure she would be able to deal with her. But the unknown quantity was the unicorn. She was more powerful than expected, she stood upright which meant the traditional strengths and weaknesses against ponies might not count and…

Wait. She’s a unicorn. If I can neutralize her horn, that should be the end of it for her! But then Subaru remembered: breaking a unicorn’s horn would cripple the poor thing and if she broke it off at the base? It would pretty much kill the victim instantly. She knew from plenty of expertise and a morbid collection of broken horns she’d amassed just prior to their defeat by Faust. So I can’t do that. But how can I stop her? There’s gotta be a—

An explosion of energy hit her square in the back, sending her flying. She screamed in pain, both from the blast and the painful impact against the wall. She’d been thrown upwards high enough as well that gravity immediately took over, slamming her to the ground as well. She forced herself up as her vision temporarily blurred; she hadn’t been hit that hard since her fight with her sister.

She has to be their strongest: an assassin, or maybe Faust’s current lieutenant, Subaru mused. There’s no way a normal unicorn could be that strong. At the levels the mare was punching, it was only going to be a matter of time before Subaru fell. She was going to need a way to neutralize that unicorn without doing permanent damage to her.

A voice shouted from the darkness. “Make this easy on yourself, Tamamo! You’re only going to make it harder in the long run and I’m going to beat you anyway!”

Subaru ducked behind a stanchion, hoping she couldn’t be seen from where she was. “Leave me alone, unicorn! You’re not involved in this!”

“You got me involved when you possessed a young pegasus! All you have to do is release her and we’ll figure out the rest! But if you don’t let Tsubasa go, I’m going to be very cross,” the answer came.

“No can do! I own this body now,” Subaru shouted back – and that was true. In less than an hour, the exorcism spell would activate and Tsubasa would be pushed away from her own body, leaving Subaru there. “And I’m not going to give it up!”

The answer to that was a blast that missed the column she was standing behind by centimeters. At first the dark fox had thought it a precursor shot to taking out the column, but another blast, this one far wider afield, made it clear the first one was a mere warning shot in the vague direction of her voice.

“Last chance! Give up or I’ll make you!” This time was punctuated with a blast that hit the stanchion dead on. The support beam, already weakened from the earlier damage, gave way, and Subaru went flying again, this time through a plate glass window and into the administrative area.

Seeing the damage done from the last blast, Trixie quickly set up a barrier to hold it. At the rate things were going they were likely going to total the hospital, but if that’s what it took to save Tsubasa, that’s what she’d do.

She heard a voice in her head. Trixie, I’ve set the first pattern of spells down. How are things on your end?

She’s not fighting back, the unicorn mage responded. I’m pressing my advantage, but I’m trying to not lay it on too thick.

I don’t think the Uedas would be very happy if we end up hospitalizing their daughter in the attempt to get her back, Kuzunoha noted.

So noted. How much more do you have left?

I’ve started on the second pattern of spells. There’ll be two more after that. Be careful; if she’s on the defensive she’ll start laying traps.

Trixie giggled softly. Traps are my specialty. Come to Vegas sometime and watch my show. With that, Trixie ended the magical call and went back to the task at hand. She had to stop Tamamo no Mae before it was too late.

Hang on, Tsubasa. Help’s on the way.

Subaru barely managed to hide in a corner, ignoring the pain from the glass cuts and the bruises. She upwardly revised her assessment of her opponent: the unicorn was very deadly and it was beginning to look as though the former-dark fox wasn’t going to stand a chance in a direct magic confrontation with her. Plus, she was clearly out of practice.

A sliver of fear began to crawl up her spine. She was going to die. She was going to die, there would be no way to…. And then there was Daisuke. She’d never see him again.

Oh, Daisuke… I wish I could see you again.

She felt something suddenly cover her mouth and she screamed, whatever it was muffling the noise. It took a second for her to realize it was a hand and another to her a voice say, “It’s okay, love. I’m here.” She turned in the direction of the voice and instead felt kiss of lips against her own, a hand caressing her face.

“We’ll face this together, Subaru,” Ryuji told her.

“Daisuke? What are you doing here? I told you not to come, that I was unavailable!” she pled.

“You’re in danger. I had to help.”

She was stunned. How? “No! Get out of here, Daisuke! She’ll hurt you!”

He grinned. “There’s a line in a movie I always wanted to say: ‘Nobody can hurt a man protecting his girl.’ Get out of here. I’ll stall the attacker.”

“No,” she pled. “Don’t get hurt over me. I’m not worth it. I’m…I’m a monster. Don’t you understand?”

“I don’t care! I don’t care who you were, that you were once Tamamo no Mae. To me, you’re Subaru – you’ll always be my Subaru.” He reached out and touched her ears and one of her tails. “This is what makes you who you were. But this,” he said, pointing to her heart, “is what makes you who you are.”

She looked at him and suddenly realized: he wasn’t under thrall. She then remembered a magic lesson she’d once received centuries ago from one of her lovers, Ahasver, the man who was only known to history by his epithet, the Wandering Jew. You can’t force someone to do what he wants to do. You can only force someone against his will. And here was Daisuke, sound of mind and firm in his determination to protect his girl. Which meant he wanted to be here, which meant….

Her heart skipped a beat as he kissed her again. “But…how did you…?”

He smiled. “When we slept, I had the most vivid dreams. I had dreams of you telling me who you were, and of a laughing, smiling foxmaiden in a field of flowers. And I saw us settling down, having a life together. I might not be as old as you, but that doesn’t mean my feelings aren’t true.”

“But I’m a murderer! I killed someone just as we were…!” She buried her face in her hands; how could he ever love her if he knew the truth?

“We’ll get through this somehow, Subaru. I don’t really understand, but…we’ll get through this somehow. But for now, you need to run. I’ll protect you, but you need to run.” He helped her to her feet and led her to the door through which he came in. “Go!” he pled.

She in turn kissed him, then ran. It was hard to keep a smile from her face, despite the urgency of the situation. In her long, long life, Tamamo no Mae had only lovers, playmates, playthings. But now Subaru had a boyfriend.

She turned to see him run towards the unicorn, baseball bat in hand.

A second later, all was red.

The ground burned with blue fire, sigils of arcane power filling the area. As she finished, Kuzunoha felt a tug of sorrow for what she was doing. She looked behind her at the first set of spells she laid down; that set glowed a sky-blue, a comforting sign they’d hold. But they were as blue as the tears that threatened to roll down her face.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Kuzunoha mused. Older sisters were supposed to protect their younger ones; younger sisters were supposed to look up to their older ones. Yesterday, Trixie had told the light fox about the world they’d both come from, one that Kuzunoha gave little thought to even two decades past the union of the human world and the kemono one: Most of it she already knew, since in the decades since she’d become friends with Faust, who had done something horrific of which she wouldn’t speak of and for some reason found herself banished from Alter-Earth, little different than the sisters. But there was information that the former alicorn queen hadn’t told Kuzu and she went to look the information up herself; she went to Wikipedia and read the rest: that Faust’s abdication led to the three tribes of ponydom to be split into five nations: Terra, the land of the earth ponies; Pegasopolis, the realm of the pegasi; Unicornia, the kingdom of the unicorns; the Crystal Empire, a land of earth ponies and unicorns who banded together to avoid the wars of their brethren to the south; and Saddle Arabia, a land far to the east of earth ponies and pegasi that even today was semi-independent of the main pony nation. As for the three warring nations, it took an invasion of winter demons known as windigos to get them to trust one another and the rise of an avatar of chaos known as Discord to get the tribes to unite under the banner of Faust’s daughters, Celestia and Luna. Eventually a mad king in the Crystal Empire to the north would cause the end of his empire and its annexation by Celestia’s nation of Equestria; Saddle Arabia, while officially becoming a part of Equestria, remained mostly independent through the rule of its chancellor, a pony hoof-picked by the sun alicorn.

But the thing that should have brought a smile to her face was the fact that Celestia and Luna had a rift between themselves, causing the younger princess to be possessed by a demon and causing the two alicorns to have a bloody civil war that lasted for nearly a century; the war ended only when Celestia turned Faust’s own Elements of Harmony on her sister, causing Luna to be banished to the moon for a millennium and Celestia’s links to the Elements to be severed forever. The irony was delicious and yet…somehow it broke Kuzunoha’s heart. The same thing that had occurred with her occurred to her now-friend’s daughters, and with virtually the same result: the older daughter to be heartbroken, the younger to be imprisoned, nursing a grudge. The story did have a happy ending, though: Luna was saved by the heroic efforts of Celestia’s protégé, Twilight Sparkle.

The light fox could only hope for the same luck, but the chances of that were thin: while Luna fought against the possession placed on her by the Nightmare, Tama had no such compunction or compulsion; her acts were her own. Which meant that unless a miracle occurred, Kuzunoha would have to do the deed and end her sister.

At least I don’t have to be the one to actually do it, she said as she walked into the hospital and started weaving the third set of spells. At least I’m enough of a coward to leave it in the hands of Trixie, who had the courage to step up when needed. Maybe if I’d had that courage to help my sister instead of letting her fall into her nefarious ways…it wouldn’t have come to this.

Stepping forward slowly but carefully, Trixie walked. Every now and then her magic would flare and there would be a small puff of smoke on the ground as traps the dark fox had set were safely defused. There had been far less than had been expected, Trixie noted, so either she hadn’t gotten into the thick of them yet, or—

The answer came as she rocked back, barely avoiding something which whistled in her path. It came forward once more and she blocked it with a magic shield, only to find that the object in question was an aluminum bat, being swung by a teenager, angry as hell. He swung twice more, before she got fed up and held him in a stasis spell.

“What are you doing, kid?” she asked him.

“I won’t let you her near her!” he snarled. “I have to protect her!”

She rolled her eyes. Classic case of enthrallment, especially when tantric magic was involved, Kuzunoha had warned her. Trixie wished she’d known about that in advance, so she could have had time to call Twilight’s former secretary. Lovestruck was now a chemistry teacher at a private school in SoCal, and seeing as her specialty was love potions and nostrums – something that was illegal in Equestria – she could have come up with a legal countermethod to the enthrallment. As it was, that was one area of expertise that the unicorn mage had to admit she was sorely lacking in.

However, there were other ways of disabling an assailant, so that she took: she punched the guy as hard as she could, reinforcing her right forehoof with magic in order to drop him with one blow. She then blasted the baseball bat, watching as it turned into nothing but slagged metal in seconds.

She was so focused on that, that she didn’t see the deep red blast of magic until it was too late. It hit her square in the face, knocking her off her feet and into a set of chairs to her right. She didn’t even have time to get up as two more magic blasts scored her, drawing blood and making her scream in pain. This time, she was able to get to her feet as she saw Tamamo no Mae race towards her at speeds she usually saw from somepony like Rainbow Dash. Trixie threw up a shield to block the blow, but the dark fox’s punch went through the magic shield, shattering it in an instant before the punch connected, knocking the breath out of her.

Trixie staggered back and as she was rushed again, she went on the offensive, blasting a bolt of magical lightning from her horn even as she dashed to her right, readying a second spell. But the demon fox blocked the lightning and redirected it straight at the unicorn mage before she could even get her second spell activated. The lightning blast threw her several meters, bouncing her off the ground and chairs painfully a couple times before she stopped, careening right into a wall.

She tried to scramble to her feet, only to feel something touch her horn. And the moment that happened, she knew she was in trouble as a massive blast of energy – her own – sent a feedback-loop jolt through her body, eliciting her to scream loudly in pain as her magic essentially short-circuited.

Tamamo no Mae conjured a katana into her hands. It had been a simple matter to transmute the air around the unicorn’s horn into Preacher’s Iron, the one substance known to be able to nullify magic. As she’d done it just before the unicorn was able to throw a blast, the mystic energies she was about to unleash were turned back on herself. Judging from the scream and the fact that it had knocked out the unicorn, it was probably going to hurt had it connected with the demon fox.

But now that unicorn was going to pay for hurting Daisuke. Tamamo would rip her apart, spray the walls with vitals, and eat her heart—

No! Don’t do it, Subaru-chan!

She hurt Daisuke! I’m going to make her pay! Tamamo no Mae told the disembodied pegasus.

He’s not dead! Look, he’s breathing! Please, don’t do this! This…this isn’t you!

This is me! I am Tamamo no Mae, the Demon Nine-Tailed Fox, the Murderer of Emperors, Slayer of Millions! I am a monster!

No you’re not, Tsubasa insisted. You’re…you’re my friend. And my friends would never do anything like that.

The word shocked Tamamo no Mae to the core. Why? After everything I’ve done to you? Why?

Because I know your heart. Yes, you’ve done wrong – I saw it, I can’t deny it. But I know you’re a better person than that! I know how much you love Daisuke! And if you do this, you’ll never be able to be with him! You are not Tamamo no Mae anymore – you’re Subaru and Subaru is too sweet a girl to do anything mean!

Tamamo no Mae dropped the sword as Tsubasa’s words echoed in her mind. I have to let go…I have to let go…. Memories bombed her in head as her personality went to war with itself. Slaughter, murder, sex…kissing, cuddling, hugging…orgies, drunkenness and obscenity…loving, smiling and laughing. She was soaked in blood, laughing as she held her enemy’s beating heart in her hand. She was showered in sakura petals, smiling as she held her Daisuke in her arms. She was having sex with anything that moved. She was loving her one true mate. She was casting the darkest, most horrific rituals possible. She was baking the sweetest, most delicious cake possible. All of it made sense. And none of it did.

Subaru! Don’t give up on me! Don’t give up on him! Tsubasa cried.

“I just….” she stopped, unable to say it, unable to make the change that would end her life as she knew it for once and for all. Subaru suddenly screamed madly, completely out of control. She wanted to kill everything. She wanted to love everything. She wanted to murder her lover and bathe in his blood. She wanted to cuddle with him and sleep in his arms. She wanted…

And then the dam broke.

“I just want to be loved.”

A tendril of blue spellfire looped around the dark fox, slamming her to the ground. At the same time, a magic circle of power flared underneath her, locking her into position. A look of shock rose to her face.

Across from Trixie, Kuzunoha came into view. “We don’t have much time,” she said to the pony mage, activating an additional spell to wake the unconscious pony up.

“Ugh, did anyone get the license plate on that kaiju that stepped on me?” she muttered.

“Hold on…let me get that horn lock off you,” Kuzunoha replied, waving her free arm. When the horn sheathe didn’t disappear, she tried again. And again. She then turned to her sister. “What did you do?”

“Spell ciphering,” the dark fox said, folding her arms. “I’m sorry, sister, but I can’t let you do this. I know what you’re trying to do, but I can’t let you do it. You have to trust me.”

“I did!” Kuzunoha shouted, tears welling in her eyes. “All I have ever done is just that and you’ve disproven yourself over and over again. I’m sorry, but I don’t have a choice anymore.” The tears now flowed in full. “You’ve given me no choice, and I’m sorry. But if it makes you feel better, we’ll go together, sister.”

Tamamo no Mae’s eyes widened. “What…are you talking about?”

“I was relying on Trixie to do the deed, but she’s incapacitated by your spell, and it’s not fair to her to do what I should have done. I love you little sister, and I failed you. I should have been the one to watch out for you, to watch out for your Nightmare Moon, which turned out to be your own self.”

“Nightmare…moon? What the hell is a nightmare moon? Have you lost your mind, Kuzu-ne?”

“We’ll die together, little sister. I’ll cast the Sanzugawa no Kanmon on both of us.”

“No….” Tamamo no Mae whispered, looking at her sister. “No, ne-san, no…don’t do it!”

The smile on Kuzunoha’s face was beatific. Walking into the barrier, she had just enough time to envelop her sister in an embrace, whispering, “I love you, little sister. Until the end, I always have.”

“I love you too, ne-san,” Tamamo no Mae said, resting her head on her sister’s chest, leaning into the hug. Subaru realized how much she’d missed her sister, how futile their arguments were, how pointless it had all been. Tsubasa?

Yes?

You were right. And congratulations – you’re the stronger one. In the end, you won.

I didn’t win anything, silly, the disembodied pegasus’ voice replied. In the end, I was just looking out for my friend.

Meanwhile, Kuzunoha looked at Trixie. “Get out of here – you don’t want to get caught in the blast.”

Trixie looked at the light fox as if she were mad. “Are you nuts? Get out of there! I can fix this!”

“You brought me my sister back, Trixie,” Kuzunoha said, tears of joy on her face. “You already did.”

“No, Kuzunoha, get the hell out of there! I can fix this!”

Older leaf-green eyes met younger ones. Kuzunoha kissed her little sister on the forehead, smiling. “Are you ready?”

“Before it’s too late, ne-san,” Tamamo no Mae said, with a soft smile.

And with that, the Holy Nine-Tailed Fox, the Mother of Sorcerers, began to chant:

“闇に惑いし哀れな影よ
人を傷付け貶めて
罪に溺れし業の魂
いっぺん... 死んで見る?”

The world exploded in flames of white.

化け物, 終局

The white faded into nothingness.

Sparks rose into the air, motes of light blending with the sky as they faded away.

Reality came back into view.

Clothing nearly shredded, Trixie found herself coming to in the middle of the giant crater several feet deep. She got up, looking around at the smoldering remains of what had been a Tokyo neighborhood. This section of the city was now gone, and…

How did I survive? I didn’t have time to get away. That would have killed me! Hell, I’m not sure even Twi could have walked away from that one. There was only one real way she could have survived, she realized.

Damn it, Kuzunoha! Why didn’t you just…. The unicorn fell back, unable to stand from the crushing realization of what had happened. She had failed. She’d failed Kuzunoha in trying to help her. She’d failed the Uedas in trying to get their daughter back. She’d failed Twilight and the others in proving she could be a better mare than she was.

Because Kuzunoha wanted to prove to her sister that she’d stick by her, the thought suddenly came, unbidden and unwanted. Trixie was an only foal, so she couldn’t entirely comprehend what it would be like, but she knew what it was like to have someone look out for you. She had an older cousin, Pastel Chime, who oftentimes was the only pony that ever seemed to understand Trixie. In many ways, Pastel was the closest thing Trixie had to a sister.

Pastel, if I’d gone horribly wrong, would you have done the same? she wondered. When Trixie had been corrupted by the Alicorn Amulet, had Pastel been there, would she have gone as far? There was no way to ask; shortly after Trixie had begun her travelling show around the Equestriani countryside, Pastel had been killed in a freak accident. Trixie had never gotten over the wound to her heart, and it was probably why she’d been the haughty, aloof mare she’d been for that period in her life.

The sounds of tears came from behind her. The unicorn turned to see, to her amazement, Tsubasa. She was sitting there, crying her eyes out. As Trixie reached over to embrace the younger mare, the pegasus began sobbing in full. “Why, Subaru-chan? Why? You were supposed to be happy! Why?”

“What happened?” Trixie asked.

“She died!” Tsubasa said, horrified. “Subaru-chan couldn’t live with the shame of her mistakes, so she turned the spell on herself – she exorcised me out of her body…I mean, her out of my body…I mean….” The pegasus buried her face in Trixie’s chest, crying, unable to vocalize the trauma she’d been through. And as the sirens in the distance got closer and emergency workers and police showed up, there was nothing the unicorn mare could say. Even as she was taken into custody, she didn’t know what to say.

“Okay, you’re free to go, Lulamoon,” the officer told her. Trixie sat up in her jail cell, getting to her feet. They’d allowed her to conjure up some replacement clothing, but had an armed guard on her at all other times, since Japan had no real other way to counter magic.

“Thanks,” she said to the police officer.

“Don’t thank me,” he told her. “Your employer is in the lobby.”

Trixie wasn’t too sure by what was going on, so she walked out of the area. As she did, she was met by someone from the Equestriani embassy. “Should’ve known it was you.”

“You’re welcome,” Pokey Pierce told her. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to Japan? Or that you were involved with the Uedas?”

Trixie crossed her arms. “Let’s see…maybe because you don’t run my life, Pokey? Or maybe because we’re not a couple anymore?”

“Trixie, don’t be like that. For what it’s worth, I made a mistake when we broke up. We can’t ever go back to what we had, but I’ll stallion up and admit I made the error. Now, please tell me what you’re doing in Japan. I had to have Blossomforth lie to their Minister of Justice and explain you were contracted to take care of the Ueda situation since we had no Guild members available. I’d like to at least try to not make my boss look like a fraud amongst her peers in the international community.”

She looked at him as though she wanted to cry. “Do you remember what you told me the night before you said we were through?”

“That you’re not critical enough with yourself and that’s why you keep feathering things up,” he replied, regretting it the moment he said it. It had been one of their bigger fights and not one of his better moments.

“Well, it might please you to know that ever since I trained with Twilight, I have quite the opposite problem now…especially when it turns out to be true.” She looked at him, wanting to just rage and snarl at the helplessness of the situation, but he’d nothing to earn her ire and so she had nowhere for it to go. “Look, I need to get to the Ueda house,” she said after a few more seconds. “My stuff is there.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now. Their daughter, Tsubasa, has been rehospitalized. This time…well, I’d call it a case of CMFIS, but she doesn’t have a cutie mark, so I guess ‘outright mental breakdown’ would be more apt. As for the Uedas, they’re with her at the hospital and they’re understandably distraught. We’ve offered a grief counselor and…well, if you want my opinion, give it a couple of days.”

“Okay, okay. Just drop me off at a nearby hotel then.”

“Actually, I was going to have you come to my place. I know you, Trixie. You don’t do well when you’re by yourself and in a bad mood.” He went over to her and hugged her. “C’mon. My car’s outside. Let’s get going.”

She shook her head. “No, Pokey. Because if I do, same old shit’s gonna happen again. We’ll talk, we’ll fight, we’ll get drunk, and then I’ll wake up next to you in the morning wondering about the same problems I had the night before, combined with if one or the other of us wove a contraceptive spell or not.”

He gave her a soft smile. “Trust me – that’s not going to happen. My wife wouldn’t appreciate it much.”

“When did you get married?”

“Trixie, we really haven’t spoken to each other in nearly a decade. Surely you’d think I’d have fallen for someone else. In fact, based on what you’re saying, I’m surprised you haven’t.”

She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You know me: my love life’s always been a wreck. But thanks for offering me the space.”

She stayed at Pokey’s for two days. His wife, Stellar Galaxy, wasn’t very thrilled to find he’d invited his old flame over, but after the three adults had talked Gal, as Pokey called her, warmed up to Trixie, enough so that the two mares started comparing notes, much to Pokey’s chagrin. As for his children, she’d given a quick impromptu magic show, much to their delight. And after everything that had happened to her, frankly, she needed the rest and morale boost. And it turned out, so did they: things had gotten worse over the past few weeks and she was horrified to hear that Cloudsdale had been attacked and all but completely destroyed, Fillydelphia was now wiped off the map and that Equestria was on the verge of war with a Middle Eastern nation. The world was going to hell right now and to Trixie, somehow that seemed too damn appropriate.

Plus, something still felt empty inside. Kuzunoha’s sacrifice still somehow felt empty and incomprehensible. So after telling Pokey that she needed to see the Uedas, he’d finally relented and given her their address and directions. She’d called the Uedas first thing in the morning and found that Tsubasa wasn’t sleeping well. The Uedas had also expressed concern for Trixie as well; after she’d been hauled off in a police car no one had been willing to tell them anything about her situation.

After promising she’d be there for dinner, she went to the Ginza. There was one place she needed to go to, and fortunately, she knew she could get there on her own.

It was an easy matter to get into the shop; Kuzunoha had created a pony-compatible keyspell for her. She went in, hoping that she’d find something to ease her own fears and hopefully those of Tsubasa. But instead, she’d found the place picked bare, as if nothing had ever existed in the space two days ago. The place had been completely cleaned, waiting for a business to move in instead of being the bric-a-brac mess that it had been while Kuzunoha had pretended to be the old medicine maker.

“I knew you’d come.” Trixie turned and found a man sitting there on the steps leading to the upstairs area. He looked Japanese, was in his forties or so with glasses, well groomed hair and soul patch and dressed in a polo and slacks. Probably not the sign of a powerful sorcerer, but looks were always deceiving. “It was only a matter of time,” he said, speaking in perfect English. Japanese-American, perhaps?

“Who are you?” she asked. Kuzunoha had secrets galore as well as that organization she was a part of, and though the unicorn mage knew nothing about it, she’d protect her friend’s memory – the kitsune deserved that much at the least.

But the man smiled, holding his palms forward in the somewhat universal gesture amongst magic users that no harm was meant. “I’d tell you my real name, but I doubt even one in a dozen people in Japan remember it nowadays. But I go by Don as of recent. Donald Ashiya, average everyday real estate agent in Palm Springs, California. I also have a license for Nevada, if you’re ever interested in purchasing any additional property in Vegas, Ms. Lulamoon.”

“Well, you know more about me than I do about you,” she said.

He ignored that and said, “Not only did I know you’d come, I also know why you came. There was an aching in your heart, a refusal to believe that Kuzunoha’s dead. A lack of comprehension as to why she sacrificed herself and for her sister, of all things. Tamamo no Mae – tell me, is it true that she really did have a change of heart?”

“I don’t know. I wish I could say she did, but I didn’t know her. The Ueda girl does.”

“We’ll have to have one of ours talk to her. I can promise you that we’ll protect her, no matter what. She’s a special girl and not just because she’s a pony.” There was something about his tone that made the back hairs of Trixie’s mane stand on end.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It might interest you to know that my colleagues and I have conferred and strangely enough, we may have a human sorceress on our hands.”

“But that’s—”

“Impossible? Like a humanized pony picking up a philosopher’s stone, mistaking it for a genderstone and using it as one – and successfully activating it to act as one? You mean like that kind of impossible? I mean, after all, as a unicorn you’re quite aware that since she’s just a pegasus, it should be impossible for her as a non-unicorn pony to be an active magic user to begin with. But then again, she’s not entirely a pony, not in her mind. Somehow, her mindset and her latent magic have made her into something else. And we intend to ensure she’s protected.”

“You mean controlled.”

“No, I mean protected. If Ueda Tsubasa never manifests magic; or if she does and chooses to deny it, we will not force the issue. In truth, I’d rather not have another human sorcerer to deal with. I’m sure Kuzunoha told you about the inherent problem with human magic.”

She knew this line of conversation wasn’t going to go anywhere, so she went to the next part. “What about her raccoon servants?”

“You mean the tanuki? The little guys and gals are understandably distraught right now – serving the Holy Fox was all they knew for dozens of generations. We had one of our people pick them up an hour ago. They’ll be taken to a farm in Hokkaido where they can live in peace and will be well cared for. Another colleague will be selling this building, then putting the money in a trust fund. Half of that will go towards Ms. Ueda’s college funds. The rest will be used to take care of the tanuki.”

“I see,” Trixie said, unsure of what to say.

“Listen,” Don replied, “I can understand your hesitancy. You only knew her for a few days, but you got to know her in the way all magic users know one another. And you feel you failed her. If it makes you feel any easier, I failed her worse.” He raised his hand, calling a ball of yellow light to his palm. “Once, I was the bitterest rival and worst enemy of her son and her grandson. I made their lives a mortal hell. But when Tamamo no Mae slaughtered Abe no Yasuchika, it was then that I truly understood what evil was. I offered my allegiance to the Holy Nine-Tailed Fox, and in the centuries since, I’ve come to appreciate the difference between the Light and Dark Foxes: Kuzunoha not only genuinely believed in a brighter tomorrow…but she believed in a tomorrow where her sister could be happy.” He looked as his composure was about to break as he added, “And I spent centuries getting to know her very well.”

Trixie knew that tone all too well. “She turned you down, didn’t she?”

He smiled softly. “I made the mistake of proposing on December 7th, 1941. But she didn’t turn me down because of that, or because she didn’t love me – she had grown to do so. It was because she swore she wouldn’t have happiness until Tamamo could. She was willing to sacrifice everything because it was the duty of an older sister to guide the younger. And now she is gone, and I am alone.”

“I am sorry for your loss. I suppose I found what I came for. Or rather I didn’t, but it will have to do. Are you planning to be in town long?”

“Officially I’m here to see to the burial of my grandmother, Kappabashi Utane, who died in her sleep two days ago. Once that’s done, I’m not sure. I’ve been living in California since the 1930s, so maybe it’s time for a change of place. I’ve heard there’s a house available in Boston.” He waved his hand again, and a package enveloped in yellow power floated before her. “Take this. I think she would have wanted you to have it.”

Trixie opened the package and found a short sword in it. The sword was clearly thousands of years old and in an instant Trixie knew what it was: the sword Kuzunoha once used to take arms against Faust. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “I choose to remember the woman I love as a firm believer in peace and redemption. You knew her as a fellow sister-in-arms. It’s only fair that you have that.”

“Thank you,” Trixie said, stowing the sword away in a magical pocket she kept in her clothing for such needs. “Well, it was good to meet you, Don, and if you’re ever at the Aqua Maré, come see my show.”

“Oh, we’ll be in touch,” he said with a smile. “You’ve proven to be trusted and relied upon, Great and Powerful Mage of Equestria. And to find a magic user of honor on our world? There is no higher blessing than that.”

Trixie left the onmyōji to grieve alone. She’d come looking for answers regarding her friend, but there was nothing here but ghosts and regrets.

It was evening when Trixie arrived at the Ueda house. Somehow fittingly, there was a funereal feel about the home, a sense of loss and displacement. Both of the elder Uedas were thrilled to see Trixie again, and over dinner the three adults chatted, though there was a feeling that it was small talk for the sake of trying to avoid the obvious elephant on the tatami. Trixie updated them on the situation regarding Kuzunoha’s effects and the future of the tanuki; this seemed to put the concerns of the two humans somewhat at ease.

And then Trixie decided to wade into the dangerous waters. “How is Tsubasa?”

Goro shook his head. “She refuses to leave her room. Her friends have been over, trying to coax her out, but to no avail. She just…she just shut herself in the room once we returned from the hospital and refused to come out.”

Kyoko looked at the mare. “Is there anything you can do?”

“I’ll try,” Trixie said. “I think I know what’s bothering her.” Trixie took a tray of food over and walked up the stairs towards the girl’s room, finally arriving. Letting the tray float next to her while she knocked, she said, “Tsubasa, it’s me. Can I come in?” The response was silence, as if the pegasus wasn’t there. “Tsubasa, this isn’t healthy, and it isn’t fair to your parents or your friends. Open the door, please.” More silence, as was expected. Finally, Trixie snarked, “You do realize that with just a thought I can make this door go away or teleport you out here, right?” Yet more silence.

Trixie’s horn flashed magenta for a second and the next second later, the door was somewhere else, ripped off the hinges and teleported downstairs. As the azure unicorn walked into the room, setting the tray down by the desk, she noted the disheveled bed, the tell-tale “stablish” scent of a pony that hadn’t showered in a few days, and the window, wide open, the curtains floating in the breeze. To anyone else, that would be a worrisome sign. But for Trixie, it was a worrisome sign for a whole different reason: Tsubasa may have decided to run away.

Taking a chance – her hooves were hardly built for it – she climbed out the window, standing on the barest ledge. A quick teleportation spell, however, put her square on the roof, solving that problem. And that’s when she saw Tsubasa.

She lay on the roof, sans thread, exposed to the elements. Her wings were flat out against the surface of the roof, providing stability, though her feathers were in need of preening. Her mane and tail were a chaotic spray of knots and snarls. She seemed to stare out into the sky, aimlessly, as if she wanted to throw herself to the stars as if they were so many feeding sharks. It was a scene both terrifying and beautiful.

Plus, that Yoshida kid would probably appreciate the view, the unicorn mage mused, as she conjured up a blanket. “C’mon, cover up. That’s indecent even in Equestria.” She didn’t move, and Trixie ended up covering her with the blanket. “You mind telling me why you’re being so damn stupid? Your parents are worried about you. So are your friends. Me too, for that matter.” More silence. Finally, Trixie said, “Look – I don’t care if you’re going emo or whatever the hell they call it here. People are worried about you and you don’t have the right to make it worse.”

Finally, Tsubasa spoke. “Did you ever dream of another world, Lulamoon-sensei?”

“In case it hadn’t dawned on you, both of us come from another world,” the unicorn reminded her.

Tsubasa ignored that comment. “I keep having dreams. Dreams of Subaru as she used to be – Tamamo no Mae. Dreams of how she wanted to be – married to Ryuji-kun. I dream of another world, where we’re all friends, growing up. That she and I were the closest of friends, maybe even more than Yuka and I – not that I would abandon my other friends. That’s the world she wanted. Why didn’t she get that? Why did she have to die?”

The older mare sat down next to the younger one. “I keep thinking of Kuzunoha, and wondering why she had to die. She obviously wanted to save her sister, but at the same time, she couldn’t afford to let you die for that sake.”

Tsubasa sat up, folded her wings, shivering slightly as she finally felt the effects of the cold, wrapping herself in the blanket. “But I wouldn’t have died. Subaru was going to redirect the magic you and her sister used against her to create a new body for me before time ran out.” The look in the pegasus’ tear-stained eyes was stark enough that she believed it to be true whether it objectively was or not.

Trixie shook her head. “Look, that kind of magic is way above my paygrade, kid, but you have to understand that kind of magic is something only one of the alicorns can do, maybe – maybe – one or two others. And while I believe you, I’m not sure Tamamo no Mae—”

“Subaru,” Tsubasa interjected, somewhat harshly. “She didn’t want to be called by her name anymore. She was going to give that up, because she didn’t want to be called a murderer anymore.”

“Fine, Subaru, then. But the end result would have been the same. She would have failed and you would have been the one who died.”

“But aren’t imperial foxes the same as alicorns?” That much was true; the nine-tailed foxes of Inari were worshipped as gods in much the same way as the alicorns were in pony lands. But unlike the constant protests from the Equestriani royal family, the Inarese imperial family had no such compunctions.

“Maybe, but bear in mind that she was also trapped in the philosopher’s stone for hundreds of years, and a spell like that, I’m sure, requires a lot of precise timing and plenty of practice. Even Princess Celestia herself would say that.”

“Then maybe I should have been the one to die and Suba—” The pegasus never finished the statement as she was slapped hard across the face by a blue hoof.

“Don’t you dare say that,” Trixie growled. “Your parents have been through hell these past few days and your only answer to that is ‘I should’ve died?’ Your friends stood by you – one of them is even the reason I’m here in the first place – and you want to throw away everything for the fox that stole your body and nearly killed you?”

Tsubaru rubbed the place where she’d been slapped. Tears came to her eyes once more, but not because of the wound. “Why won’t you believe that she changed? Why? How hard is it to believe that someone wrong can change? I know she did wrong – I was in her body when she killed an innocent man and I couldn’t stop her! I was there when she did things – with my body – that I would never do, not in a million years! But I also saw her fall in love. And I also saw her cry once she realized she’d taken a life again. And I saw how much she loved Ryuji-kun. But all you want to do is just accuse her of being Nightmare Moon.”

“Kid, you don’t understand.” Trixie sighed, then let it all out. Being bullied as a kid because of her lisp. Having Pastel stick up for her constantly, the one pony who meant so much to her. Despite coming from a well-known Guild mage family, falling in love with the performing arts, so much so that it led to her lisp disappearing and revealed her cutie mark. Finally deciding to take her show on the road, only to find out her cousin had been killed by a rogue manticore. Being so sullen and alone that she’d built a persona for herself – “The Great and Powerful Trixie” – and that persona had subsumed her. Being shown the truth of her lies by Twilight Sparkle, only to give into temptation and be consumed by the Alicorn Amulet. Twilight ultimately defeating her again, and this time Trixie taking back to the road, but ditching her title and going back to her roots. Training with Twilight and truly becoming strong, though she never joined the Guild. And as the human world came into their lives, she took to the human roads, opting to reuse her old showbiz title once again, but this time never letting it get the best of her.

“And all this time, I believe if she’d been alive, Pastel would have protected me. Pastel would have never let me get near that damn amulet. Pastel, like Kuzunoha, would have given her life if it meant saving me. That’s the strength of an older sister, Tsubasa. And to want to throw away your life not only insults your parents and your friends, it insults Kuzunoha – and I don’t think Tam…Subaru would have appreciated that.” Trixie reached out and pulled the pegasus into a hug. “I know you’re an only child, but don’t you have anyone you can turn to?”

“I do, but…she’s elsewhere at the moment. Maybe she would have talked me out of using the stone,” Tsubasa mused. Would DJ-sempai have prevented me from doing so? Tsubasa knew in a heartbeat that the older pony would have stopped her; though like Tsubasa DJ considered herself more human than pony, the older mare was also very much about being true to oneself.

“If she cares about you, I know she would have. If I had a younger sister, I know I would have. Take it from me: shortcuts aren’t always worth it – sometimes you end up doing more work just trying to take the ‘easy’ way. And there are too many people who would have been broken if you’d died.”

A thought suddenly came to the pegasus’ mind: “Would you come with me to Tochigi tomorrow? I have to go, but…I don’t want to go alone.”

“You’ve been out of school for nearly two weeks, kiddo. Not sure that’s a good idea.”

“I have to go. And I think you need to as well.”

“I’ll ask your parents – but you owe some people some apologies, got that? Too many people have been worried about you and you need to make amends.”

Tsubasa nodded imperceptibly, but enough so that Trixie could sense it. “Okay,” was all she said.

While Tsubasa’s parents were worried about their daughter’s sudden morbid fascination with the past of the monster that had nearly taken her life, assurances by Trixie that she would use every spell in her arsenal to defend the younger pony was enough to get them to agree. They really couldn’t say no, in any case; they had to reopen the café and it was clear that Tsubasa was going to go even if it meant committing outright truancy from school.

The drive to Tochigi the following morning was a long one, mostly due to the Japanese roadways. While both mares were willing to take a train, Pokey insisted on driving them because he didn’t want his old flame to a) get in more trouble, b) cause more property damage or c) cause another international incident, not necessarily in that order. So off they went in his Mitsubishi Fortis Exoros.

“You know, I could have just driven, if you were that worried about me taking a train,” she told him. For the sake of Tsubasa’s need to remain fluent in English, the conversation was carried on in that language.

He laughed. “I’ve seen how you drive, remember? You treat every car like you need to outrace Rainbow Dash.”

Finally, they reached the ryokan where they’d stay the night. After quickly checking in – courtesy of Pokey’s expense account – they then went off to the Mt. Nasu hiking trail. It was rough enough that the three had to drop to all fours at some points, being difficult terrain for even humans. At last, they hit a fork in the trail. The one on the left led to the volcano station, while the one at the right led to the Sessho-seki, complete with signs in Japanese and English warning people that taking the trail to the stone was at one’s own risk due to the sulfuric gas vents that had opened up in the area after the earthquake mid-last year.

“Well, that’s the last of that,” Pokey said, looking at the sign. “Time to turn around, enjoy the view and just relax, okay?”

“No,” Tsubasa said, determination in her voice. “I’m going on, Mr. Pierce. I need to.”

“Miss, you did read the sign about poisonous gases, right? You do know that ponies are more susceptible to those things because of our biology, right?”

In turn, Tsubasa looked at Trixie, a wordless pleading in her eyes. Trixie noted that and said, “Look, Pokey, if you want to go back, we’ll stay the night and take a train back in the morning. I’m sure Gal would feel a whole lot better if you weren’t babysitting me.”

“You’re probably right. But I like having a job and Blossomforth said if you end up getting in a fight with Godzilla because I wasn’t paying attention my flank is toast.”

“Well, I always thought it was a cute flank,” she teased.

He sighed. “Very much married, remember?”

She rolled her eyes. “Did you lose your sense of humor when you put on the wedding bracelet?” Her horn glowed and suddenly the three were surrounded in protective bubbles. “This should hold us until we get back down,” she advised, “though I wouldn’t push it too much.” The three moved forward on uneven ground until the finally reached a set of stairs with rails, allowing them to go back upright, much to Tsubasa’s relief. A few more steps and then they reached it.

Marked only by a wooden sign in need of replacement was a single stone, weathered and cracked. Roughly the size of a pony stallion curled up sleeping, the site was marked by a long-unattended offering tray – and hundreds upon hundreds of sacred Buddhist jizō statues. There was a distinct sense of unease that came over Trixie and after a few seconds she realized why: the jizō were serving as magic wards, in the event that Tamamo no Mae were ever to get free and attempt to recover her original body.

But that was nothing compared to Tsubasa, who went and hugged the Sessho-seki itself, heedless of the sulfuric fumes emanating from the fissure beneath it. “I miss you, Subaru-chan,” she said, her voice sorrowful. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.”

“Has the girl gon—” Pokey began.

“Keep it up and I’ll buck your plot straight into Low Earth Orbit,” Trixie threatened.

“Look at her, Trixie! That thing tried to kill her and she’s acting like a lovesick filly!”

“No, I think she’s acting like someone who lost somepony very important to her. Just like in the few days I knew her, I really bonded wit….” The azure mare stopped as realization suddenly hit her. She walked over to Tsubasa and said, “I think I know what’s going on.”

That caught the attention of the teen immediately. “Why?”

“I’ll tell you over lunch. C’mon – I think I saw something with a yellow M around here.”

“I’d like to stay here for a while,” Tsubasa said.

“No. We’re near the limit of what the bubbles can handle and I’m sure you’ve had enough hospitals for the year.”

“No!” Tsubasa shouted. “I’m staying! You can’t make me leave!”

“Tsubasa….”

“I SAID NO!”

“Okay, filly, I think we’ve had enough of that,” Trixie said, levitating the bubble. Tsubasa immediately started to beat against it, trying to rip it and even went so far as to try to pop it by pushing her wings out to maximum, but Trixie shrank the bubble to the point that Tsubasa couldn’t move.

“What the buck’s gotten into her all of a sudden?” the navy-blue stallion asked.

Pushing it over to Pokey, she asked, “Can you teleport her?”

“I think I—”

“Take her and get her out of here, Pokey. Now.” There was a steely look in Trixie’s amethyst eyes that brooked no argument.

“Trixie, don’t do anything stupid.”

“If I did that, we’d be married,” she retorted, though he knew it was a joke. Her horn started to flare up and he took that as a cue to leave, wrapping a silver lasso of magic around Tsubasa’s bubble as they teleported back to the ryokan. Meanwhile, horn burning with burgundy power, Trixie growled, “You have seconds to remove that enthrallment on or her I swear I will make you pay.”

The late morning sky suddenly grew as black as midnight as a form appeared before her. The form looked like a grotesque version of her friend. Kuzunoha. The creature had unnatural black eyes and spiky red hair that seemed like tines of blood. It glowed with an eerie yellow aura – the color of sulfur – and the sparse grass died the moment its feet touched the floor.

“It makes so much sense now,” Trixie said. “Why Kuzunoha would rather die than to kill her sister. Why she only had the courage to do so at the last moment. Because she forced herself to do it, because she no longer had the willpower to.”

The creature, still silent, smiled in a threatening manner. The teeth were all razor sharp fangs, all unnatural and sickly yellow.

“You’re Hōji, aren’t you? But you weren’t a creature that Kuzunoha summoned – you’re a part of Kuzunoha’s soul, the one that was bloodthirsty and rapine. The only one you wouldn't dare disobey was Kuzunoha herself, because you were compelled to her. But now that she’s gone, you’re free to take the only thing stopping you from becoming like the fox sisters were: the power that Subaru left with Tsubasa. Because they bonded, Subaru vowed to leave the life she had behind…and left the power with the one person she knew would never abuse it! Tsubasa now has the power of the Demon Fox, but with the virtue of her Holy Sister.”

Hōji flexed its claws, and they burned with the same sickly aura. The sulfurous smoke wafting off them seemed to be a very offense against the air. The creature then spoke, its voice a twisted, obscene parody of Kuzunoha’s. “i want power. i want life. i will take it.”

“You will do no such thing,” Trixie snarled, reaching through the dimensions for her magic pocket. Within seconds, she produced Kuzunoha’s short sword and the sword sang with Trixie’s power, blazing like a star in her grap. “I have no idea how to use one of these things, but I’m a fast learner.”

“i will kill you. i will drink your blood. i will take what is mine!” Hōji vowed.

Trixie laughed. “Maybe you would…if you weren’t such an idiot!” And with that, she let the sword float into the air. Filled with her power, the sword shot of blast of magenta into the air, which split into hundreds of individual beams. Each beam fell down onto a jizō, energizing it. And as the statues became powered, each transformed into miniature magenta copies of Kuzunoha, each brandishing a tiny sword and immediately rushing in to attack Hōji, who screamed as she had to deal with hundreds of copies of her parent soul.

“These guardian statues: they were never here to protect the world from Tamamo no Mae, they were here to protect her body from you. A failsafe, should you ever revert to the bloodthirsty monster you were in the beginning. How many innocents have you killed, or worse? How many souls have suffered your wrath? Well, no more!"

The monster screamed as it was beaten back by hundreds of mini-Kuzunohas…all but one. And to Trixie’s surprise, the lone mini-Kuzunoha turned and smiled at the unicorn mage and mouthed a silent phrase: Thank you, Trixie. Thank you for everything.

“You’re welcome,” Trixie said, a tear of joy coming unbidden to her cheek. But there was still something to deal with. Focusing all of her power into the space between her hooves, she called forth Celestia’s Justice, an offensive spell Twilight had developed and named after her mentor – and, as far as Trixie knew, taught only to a few select unicorns with the skill.

And because she was an otaku by admission, she shouted, “Your passport to Human-Earth is hereby cancelled!” and let the massive bolt of energy rip. The column of power slammed into the creature at full force before tearing apart reality itself with the smell of ozone and a loud snap as air rushed into the vacuum where the creature had been. Its control over the area gone, the sky returned to normal. The sword fell back to the earth, and with the ease of an illusionist in full control with her stagecraft, she caught the blade in mid-air, spun it with a flourish and stuck it back into the magic pocket where it’d be safe.

There was clapping behind her and Trixie turned and bowed. “My, even on my vacation I know how to please a crowd.”

“You certainly do, Ms. Lulamoon.” There was Don and standing next to him, a girl in her twenties. She had ice-blue eyes, which for a Japanese woman only meant one thing.

“You must be the Yuki Onna, if my memory of anime clichés serves me,” Trixie replied.

“A yuki-onna, not the,” the girl laughed. “My ancestress, though powerful, lived a mortal life, despite what the legends say. And I’m just as normal as the next girl…well, except for the adeptness at ice magic. I’m not even a Japanese citizen – I’m from Montana. Name’s Rose.”

“She’s officially here on a JET exchange program,” Don replied. “She’ll be teaching English at Tsubasa’s school. In reality, however, she’ll be giving extra-curricular lessons to one particular sorceress-to-be. That is, if Tsubasa wants.”

“And what about you? Your true love avenged?”

Don looked at her funny. “Um…I really hope you didn’t believe that part about me and Kuzunoha. I mean, she was Seimei’s mother. She’s beautiful, but….” He shook his head. “Uh, no. Just…no.”

“Well, it’s been great and all, but I’ve got some explaining to do to a teen who’s probably very embarrassed about her behavior up here.”

“I can imagine that,” Rose replied. “Being enthralled’s no fun at all.”

“Oh, and Trixie?” Don asked.

“Yes?”

“First Thursday you’re back. Eight in the evening at the Trattoria Venezia at the Bellagio. Sound like a plan?”

She gave him a smile. “Date or a meeting for this Conclave business?”

He grinned. “Depends.”

She laughed and said as she walked down the pathway, “Make it seven and I’ll see you then.” She then walked off, headed back to the ryokan. She was sure someone was due some answers.

Both Pokey and Tsubasa looked at her in surprise. “You’re kidding.”

Trixie shook her head. “No. She gave you her memories and dreams, because she wants you to continue for her sake. Take the role up that Kuzunoha couldn’t and be the person that Subaru wanted to be in the end.”

The pegasus looked at her forehooves, trying to imagine conjuring magic in them. “So…if I’ve got a human mind and pony passive magic and human active magic, what does that make me?”

“A high school student,” Trixie reminded her. “One that needs to focus on that, first. Let the rest happen as they will, or not – that’s for you to decide.”

“And if I want to do it?”

“Then Rose will train you, and I’m sure we’ll get you help afterwards. And if not, no worries. After all, you have to do what’s important to you. And I doubt Subaru would disagree with that.”

Tsubasa looked at herself in a mirror, then at Trixie. She then looked at the afternoon sky and Mount Nasu, looming closely in the distance. There, Tamamo no Mae would remain just a legend. But Tsubasa would always remember her friend. And as long as that happened, Subaru would have her happily ever after. “One last question, sensei: when does it stop hurting?”

Trixie went over and hugged the younger mare. “It does eventually when time heals the wound. But it leaves the memories behind, because if we didn’t have those, we’d end up like the Hōji, enraged and bitter until there was nothing left but hate. And you have too much to live for to do that.”

Tsubasa was about to say something when her stomach picked that exact moment to grumble. “Can we get something to eat?” Trixie just laughed and hugged the girl closer.

“Well, this is all well and fun, but I think you’ve got everything wrapped up here, Trixie. So I’m going to head back. I have a report to fill out.”

“A report?” Trixie’s heart suddenly sunk – she’d never considered the fact that Pokey would have to file a report on this.

He nodded. “Yes. That you dealt with the monster that was possessing Tsubasa and that she’s fine now, and can just go about her business without further issue.” He shook his head slightly. “I wouldn’t even know how to report about a non-unicorn with human magic. Hell, that sounds like something out of a badly-written story, if you ask me.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Pokey. Thank you for everything.”

He paused by the door and turned to look at her. “Trixie, I may be happily married to my wife, but that doesn’t mean I ever stopped loving you.” And with that, he departed, leaving the two mares to their day in Tochigi.

Ryuji Daisuke was never heard from again. Without their star pitcher, the baseball team fell apart at the Kōshien. Koji felt particularly guilty, having pushed his friend to do something stupid, but his ex-girlfriend, sensing he needed someone, forgave him and they got back together.

As the weeks went by, the rumor began that Ryuji had run off with the mysterious Subaru girl. No one knew where she was from or where she went, and as the days went by, the chances of them returning became remote. Considering that she was only seen by the cherry tree in the park, a second rumor started that Subaru really was the spirit of the cherry tree, and the two had returned to within the cherry tree, where they’d spend the rest of their days. In truth, as the police had told his parents, he’d probably made a lovers’ pact with the girl and decided to head off to a grisly end in the infamous Aokigahara “suicide forest.”

Tsubasa returned to school after a “bad case of the feather flu.” Those in the know agreed to keep her counseling secret; she’d agreed to meet with a counselor twice a week to deal with the depression she had from her ordeal. Those who really knew what happened to her, including her friends, said nothing; who would believe it, anyway? The Equestriani embassy, informed that the crisis was now over, quickly forgot about it, especially with a new political crisis on-hoof.

An investigation discovered that the destruction of Sanseki Hospital and the blocks around it was due to a small earthquake having set off a previously undiscovered bomb from World War II. The sole survivors, Ueda Tsubasa and Trixie Lulamoon, were only due to the quick-thinking of the unicorn setting up a protective magic barrier to protect herself and her charge, though Equestriani researchers confirmed there would not have been enough time for the mage to set up a protective barrier beyond the two ponies. Considering the tragedy happened in the same manner manner as the 1993 Funabashi incident, Lulamoon was absolved of any wrongdoing.

As for Trixie, after a couple more days in Japan, she was ready to go back early. She’d been changed during her experiences here, and she had yet to decide if it had been good or not. On the bright side, Tsubasa made it through the wringer, though time would tell what scars the pegasus teen would end up with, physical or otherwise. But Trixie now was a party to the realization that human magic still existed…and in the wrong hands could be horrifically dangerous. And all the money she spent on rarities like the Limited Edition Sakura Flare Seifuku Mystic Warrior Holy Suzume statue and the Collector’s Version of the complete figure collection from Go! Battle Robot Gansizer would never remove that fact. Even though being in the middle of Akihabara, the otaku mecca should have made her bouncier than Pinkie Pie on mescaline, Kuzunoha’s death had taken the fun out of being in what was effectively paradise for her.

And the day later, when she told everyone her plans to return to the US early and spent the day trying to find a flight – after some arguing with a travel agent, she managed to land a multi-leg: Pacific Southwest 2919, Narita to Seattle. From there, she’d catch an Air Cal to Ontario, where she’d catch a taxi to Riverside and take the Desert Express bullet train directly into Vegas. She’d be wiped, but it was better staying here in a place that more and more felt like her friend’s mausoleum than the biggest metro in the world.

At last the day came when they all assembled at Narita to see Trixie off at the airport. Yuka and the others stayed at school, with only Yoshida coming to say goodbye to the mare.

“Thank you for everything, Lulamoon-sensei,” both Goro and Kyoko said, bowing deeply.

“It was nothing. Thank you for putting up with me,” she said, returning the bow.

“Thank you for coming to help me,” Yoshida told her, shaking her hoof. “I appreciate everything you did.”

“See you on the boards,” Trixie told him, “and next time, just tell MagicMan to STFU.”

“Well, this is it. Thanks for everything, sensei,” Tsubasa said, hugging the Vegas showmare. The two held each other for a long time, and the pegasus whispered to the other mare, “I had a dream last night: of both Kuzunoha-san and Subaru-chan. And they said they’d be back someday, just when we needed them most. What do you think?”

Trixie detached slightly and smiled. “It sounds like something Kuzunoha would say. So let’s hope that they come back soon, okay?” the answer to that was Trixie getting hugged again by the pegasus.

“I’ll miss you, Lulamoon-sensei,” Tsubasa replied.

“You’re welcome to visit any time,” Trixie assured her, followed by another round of goodbyes. At last, they called for boarding for Trixie’s flight and with that, she descended the ramp, headed towards her gate.

As she approached the ticket checker, the woman asked, “So, welcome aboard, Ms. Lulamoon. Enjoy your time in Japan?”

She shrugged. “Well, I would say it was…eventful,” she replied as she got onto the plane, ready for the long flight home. Once onboard, she stowed her baggage in the upper compartment, pulled out a tablet and threw on some raw anime – now that her time in Japan was over, likely the only thing she’d use the language for now was to avoid crappy fansubs. She’d just dialed up the latest episode of Magical Princess Dancer Mango, when a scroll flashed into being in front of her. After assuring everyone it was just the magical version of email and nothing else, the unicorn mare opened it and smiled.

Trixie,

Sorry I couldn’t respond sooner, but I’ve been…busy lately. I’m sure Rarity told you when you spoke to her. Anyway, Blossomforth forwarded me a copy of a report Pokey Pierce did regarding some misadventure you had in Japan (when did you and he get back together?) I have to say: I’m both impressed and proud to have you as a friend. You stood up for that girl and proved yourself to be worthy of the Lulamoon family name. Your grandfather would have been proud.

When I get out of this, I promise to visit you in Vegas. We’ve got some catching up to do.

Your friend always,
-Twilight

Trixie closed the scroll and shoved it in her pocket. Too bad you couldn’t come along for this trip, Twi. I met this great person and I think you would have liked meeting her. The unicorn mare then felt the plane move and start taxiing down the runway. As it did, she popped her headphones in and went back to her tablet. It was going to be a long flight home and probably the first time in days Trixie got some downtime.

The Stepmother, Part One

Jack railed. He railed as hard as his life could ever do. How could…how could his Dad do this? All these years, it was just Jack and his Dad. Jack had no Mom, because his Dad had told him that Mom was in heaven with Grandma and Grandpa. And so it was just the two of them, “the Byrd boys,” as Dad had said, just living the life together and enjoying it.

Until today.

Until the stranger that stood next to Dad, with Dad saying that she was going to be Jack’s new Mom. Jack didn’t care much for that; he’d liked things the way they were. But if Dad said to give it a chance, he’d give it a chance.

But he probably wouldn’t like it.

Richard Byrd put his arm around his fiancée and told his son, “Things will work out.” He then looked at his fiancée and smiled. “And you’ll just adore him, Pia.”

Pia leaned him to her fiancé, sighing in contentment. She and Richard had dated for close to two years now, but in all that time, somehow there was just never a chance to meet his son. Well, now that was done and the more time they spent together, the more they would be a family. She bent down to give him a hug, but he squirmed out of the way. She in turn looked back at Richard, somewhat worried.

“Hon, this is all new to him. Give it time; we’ve still got a couple of years until the wedding and all the time in the world after that. He’ll get to love you as much as I do. I promise,” Richard said, kissing her gently.

“I hope so,” Pia replied, hopeful as she went back to join him. “I just want us all to be happy,” she said, moving slightly so her horn wouldn’t poke him, though she curled her tail around his leg in a sign of love.

The A-Frame was, without a doubt, the hottest news site in Atlanta. Formed by a few journalists that had been laid off from the Atlanta Journal-Constitution when they went digital only back in 2031, the A-Frame was now the place to count on when news was now in the Gateway City. And in an office on the seventh floor of the Kirkland Center office complex was a door with what seemed to be a nondescript title: SEPIA TONE, HEAD STAFF PHOTOGRAPHER. The sign didn’t make sense until one opened the door to find a unicorn mare seated behind the desk, half hidden behind a massive computer screen. Her mane trailed around her face in in tones of sepia and coffee-brown, while her coat was the color of desert sand that framed two beautiful eyes of slate blue. At the moment, she was dressed in a polo and slacks and setting down a huge mug of coffee courtesy of a bright orange aura of magic from her horn.

There was a knock at the door and Pia looked up to find an all-too familiar gryphoness leaning against the door frame, grinning wildly: Gladys Gammon, her best friend and most recently, maid of honor at the wedding. “Pia, you’ve been home from your honeymoon since yesterday, it’s your first day back at work and you did not swing by my desk to tell me how it went. I hope you realize that not doing so is probably illegal in this city.”

Pia grinned, giving a toss of her head. “Life sucks, Gladys. You’ll just have to wait for the book.”

“Let’s get something straight here, Pia,” Gladys mock-threatened. “I’m still a gryphon and you’re just a pony – don’t make me go over there and hurt you.”

“Yeah, but if you did, who would sign your paycheck?”

Gladys rolled her eyes. “Well, there is that little technicality….” She took a sip of the coffee mug in her claw and began again. “So, are you going to tell me or should I just suffer in silence?”

“Can you manage to suffer until lunch? Noon at Burnin’ Sherman’s? On me.”

“For that offer? I can suffer slightly,” Gladys said with a smile. “Speaking of which, how’s…?”

Pia sighed, then gnawed on her lower lip. “Richard took the day off to drive to Birmingham to pick up Jack. Nelson and Joyce have been spoiling him rotten, but that’s what grandparents do. The real challenge will begin tonight when we’re all in the same household.”

“Well, from what you tell me, that kid has never had a mother. How’d that happen?”

“I don’t know the full details; Richard still doesn’t like talking about it much. Apparently his first wife, Melissa, was home in Kansas visiting her folks when a freak tornado hit the house. But that was only a couple of months after Jack was born, so, yeah, he’s never had a mother...and it looks like I’m it now. Just don’t know how I’m going to handle raising a human child. I figure it can’t be any harder than a pony foal, right?”

Gladys laughed. “Remind me sometime to have you talk to my next-door neighbor about that. Remember all those stories when we were young about humans being monsters and such? Well, they were partially right: it doesn’t apply to adults, but some kids?” Gladys shuddered. “Best thing I can think about Michelle’s kids – little monsters, completely and utterly. One of them even pulled out a couple of my remiges – those took forever to grow back,” she grunted.

“Jack’s not like that. He’s a sweet little boy, and an absolute dear.”

“Except when he’s around you, I’ll bet,” Gladys countered. All Pia could do was nod sadly in agreement.

Jack squirmed in the seat as the car rushed down Interstate 20. The nine-year-old boy would have rather been somewhere else. Anywhere else. “Dad, do I have to go home? Can’t I stay with Granny and Grampy?”

“No, we’ve got to get home in time for dinner. Your mother has something special planned tonight, she told me.”

“She’s not my mom,” Jack muttered. “You told me Mom was in heaven with Grandma and Grandpa. That weirdo unicorn isn’t my mom.”

“Jack, Pia loves you. She’s adored you since she came into our lives, son. Why can’t you give her a chance?” Richard was exasperated: two years of Pia trying everything to reach out to her now-stepson and Jack doing everything he could to stay two steps distant. He wondered if the family needed some sort of counseling, but he knew she’d want to try all other options first – he loved that about Pia.

“Dad, she’s a pony! How can a pony be my mom? That doesn’t even make sense. Nobody else has a kickstand for a—”

“Son,” Richard said sternly, “You will not talk about her like that, understand? It doesn’t matter if she’s human or not, she’s a person. And like it or not, she’s a part of our life now and you’ll have to adjust.”

Jack instead turned to petulantly stare out the window as all children did when proven wrong, leaving Richard to wonder just how long it was going to take for his son to warm up to his wife. Hell, it was only a hair over four years ago when Richard, no longer grieving over Melissa’s death but still numbed to social interaction, was talking to his fellow co-owners of the A-Frame about hiring a new head staff photographer since their old one had been wooed away by the Chicago Tribune, and one of them said they’d convinced a promising staff photographer from the New York office of the Canterlot Times-Herald to come work for them. That meant, of course, that she likely wasn’t human; and with a name like Sepia Tone she was either a pony or a porn star.

All jokes ended the moment she came in for her interview, however. Her photography was brilliant and her resume and gallery were impeccable. Richard, the business manager for the company, happily agreed to sign her on and even hire her as the senior photographer. But it was during his time talking to her that he got to know Pia, as she preferred to be called, and then they got to know each other much better; since he wasn’t involved with the news side of the business, his relationship with her didn’t cause waves, and the whole office cheered when the two announced their engagement, roughly two years after they first met.

And now, after two years of planning and headaches and the most interesting honeymoon in Equestria – because he wanted to know everything about where she came from, including her hometown of Dodge Junction – they were back home and ready for a life together. And sadly, the only thing preventing that was the last thing he had left from his previous life, his son. And the sooner he could figure out how to tie the two parts together, the better.

As part of her plan to welcome Jack home, Pia had left work early and pretty much slaved over the oven for this one. As his favorite food was pizza, the unicorn had decided to make a couple of them from scratch – one large pepperoni and mushroom pizza like he preferred and a smaller pizza capricciosa for her vegetarian preferences. As for Richard, he’d grabbed slices from both, not only as his own preference but to show that they were all part of one family.

In turn, she took a slice of the pepperoni pizza. She nibbled on it nervously at first, aware of what it was, and actually found it rather – and disturbingly – delicious. She set it down, using her magic to wipe a napkin against her mouth while she cut a slice of hers for Jack. Offering it to him, she asked sweetly, “Would you like some?”

In hindsight, the unicorn should have expected his response: he smacked it out of her hand and shouted, “No!” The pizza sailed backwards and splattered onto her face before she could catch it in her magic; when it fell, the look on her face was one of shock.

Richard noticed and his face contorted in anger immediately. “Jack,” he growled, “apologize to your mother.”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” Pia began, reaching for a napkin to wipe her face off. In that way she reminded him so much of Melissa: always easy to forgive, always looking for the more peaceful option.

“No,” Jack said, pushing the plate aside.

“Son, apologize now,” Richard insisted, his tone growing deeper, a sign that Jack was in for it.

“Hon, it…it was an accident,” Pia insisted.

“No,” the nine-year-old said, challenging his father.

Richard then pronounced sentence, his finger pointing down the hall. “Go to your room.”

“But Da—”

“Go, Jack,” Richard snarled. “You and I will have words later, understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Silent as a ghost, Jack got up from the table and stomped his way to the bedroom, refusing to bend an inch. As he walked past Pia, the mare couldn’t help but see her husband’s quiet strength in his son – hers now as well. Now, if she could only get through to him.

Once the door to Jack’s room was slammed shut, Richard buried his head in his hands. “Sorry, love. I don’t know what I can do to get through to him.”

She continued to wipe the stuff off; the olive oil from the capricciosa slice was getting into her mane, which meant a long shower tonight. “Jack’s just going through a phase right now, Richard. For almost all of his life it’s just been you two, and I represent a very big change to that. He’s bound to find that threatening and I certainly understand that.”

“Not the point, Pia. You are going to be in his life for the rest of it and he needs to understand that. When I asked you to marry me, it was a big step, not only in his life, but mine and yours as well. That’s not to be taken lightly and it is something he has to understand. I’ll talk to him about it, get him to see reason.”

“Please, Richard, let me,” she said, taking his hands in hers. “I want to be there for him, and I want him to know that. So let me, okay?”

He smiled. “The more I know you, Sepia, the more I fall in love with you each day,” he said, smiling and leaning closer to give his wife a kiss.

She blushed. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

He flashed a loving grin. “All the girls? Not really. But only to one very special mare.” They leaned forward, kissed again, and then spent the rest of the day discussing their particular misadventures. Richard, of course, laughed at Gladys’ antics; for a gryphon she seemed to be somewhat spastic. Pia was particularly touched that Richard’s parents absolutely adored her and given their regards, as well as some advice on how to deal with Richard’s own “weird ways.” They also discussed some other things, mostly stuff that Pia would need to know as a parent and some other minor things.

But even as she discussed them with her husband, she couldn’t help but occasionally look down the hall to the door with the Mega Man Hyper poster on it and the child within.

Jack sat in the room for an hour before he heard a soft knocking on the door. Since his father never bothered to knock, he knew who it was immediately. “Jack, I brought you some dinner.”

“Go away. I don’t want any,” he said. He was actually hungry, but he wasn’t about to admit it in front of her.

She opened the door and floated the tray in, enveloped in orange magic. Part of him thought it was really cool, but again, he wasn’t about to admit it. Pia said, “Please eat. You’re a growing boy, and I want you to grow up to be healthy and strong. That’s all a mother wants for her foal.”

“I’m not a foal!” he shouted. “And you’re not my mother!”

“Sorry, just a term I’m used to. Can I come in?” Since there was no argument this time, she opened the door and sat down on the other side of the bed. “Jack, I’m not trying to replace your mother. I’m sure she was a wonderful woman and she loved you very much. But she would want someone to help you grow up to be a responsible adult, and that’s my job. I love your father and he loves me, and I love you too, Jack. So, please give me a chance?”

The response to that was a pillow to the face. Fortunately this time she was prepared and caught it with her magic mere inches from her face…as well as the two other ones he threw. Finally, she dumped them on the floor with her magic, not having moved a single muscle, but her eyes were filled with sorrow.

“Go away!” he shouted. “Just…leave me and Dad alone! We were doing great before you came here! We don’t need you!”

She said nothing to that; instead, a single tear fell from her eye as she left the room. Good, he thought. Maybe if I keep this up I can get rid of her and then things will go back to normal. The smile on his face grew as a plan started to fill his head.

And then his dad walked in.

After a long and bitter scolding of his son as to how completely disappointed he was, Richard went off to talk to the one person who needed it most. He found her, lying on the bed, looking at a picture frame. In it were two unicorn fillies, mirror images of each other, happy as could be. Behind them a strong unicorn stallion in barding; by his side was a beautiful earth pony mare not much different in looks than Pia.

“Sorry,” she said, wiping her eyes as she held the picture in her left hoofspace, reaching over for a tissue on the nightstand with her right. “Jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout Ma an’ Pa. An’ mah sister.” There was a slight twang in her voice as she spoke, something he’d never noticed before. “Pa wuz a senyur Guard, an’ c’mmanded th’ garrison outside Dodge Junction. Ma wuz just a housewife, but sh’ always kept things neat. An’ mah y’nger twin sister, Slate Blue. Ah luv’d them all.”

“I remember you mentioned you were an orphan, but…what’s with the accent?”

“Norm’l talk fer us folks from Dodge Junction,” she said, as her accent disappeared and she gave him a weak smile. “The orphanage pretty much sapped it out of me, but it always seems to come back somehow when I’m thinking of them.”

“What happened, if I can ask?”

“When I was about seven years old,” she began, “Ma, Pa and Blue went to Manehattan for the Summer Sun Celebration. I just caught a case of the hornpox, so I stayed with a neighbor while they went; Pa had to go since he was providing security and Ma and Blue really wanted to see it. From what I was told, they were on one of the first-generation Friendship Express trains, the first built with steam engines.” Richard’s father was an engineer, so he instantly knew what that meant. “I was told it was quick and they didn’t suffer, not that it’s been much consolation to me.

“But since the neighbors couldn’t afford to raise me and no one knew if Ma or Pa had other relatives, I was sent to live with Miss Gray Line at the orphanage in Moorglade. I grew up an orphan, and while Miss Gray did the best she could for me, she was no parent. My accent was forced away by well-meaning but wrong teachers at the school. I was strong enough to try out for the Mage Guild Academy, but without a letter of recommendation, I couldn’t get in. So I turned to photography and got my cutie mark in that. And when I was a legal adult, it was time to bid farewell to the orphanage and make my way in the world.

“I know everypony did the best they could for me, and I don’t doubt Miss Gray wished she could have gotten me a recommendation somehow. And my skill at photography got me here to you, and I can’t complain about that. But it made me think about what I’d be like when I became a parent. And now here I am.”

He reached over and embraced her. “Pia, don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re doing everything for Jack that you can and while he doesn’t see it now, he will. Plus, we’ll have other children as well and you’ll be just as great with them.”

“How’s he doing?” she asked.

“Well, after you left he ate the slices you left him. And I grounded him for a day; no videogames, just books. You could have done the same, you know.”

“I suppose, but I want to reach out to him first. A mother’s first instinct should be to nurture her foal, and I promise you and Melissa that I will be the mother he needs.”

“Pia, you don’t have to compare yourself to Melissa. He was only two months old when the accident happened. And I know she wouldn’t want you to be a copy of her; she’d want you to be a mother in the only way you can.”

She smiled. “I know,” she said, nuzzling his arm, closing her eyes and sighing in contentment. “But I want to be the kind of mother that would make you proud as well, Richard.”

“You already are, Pia. You already are,” he said, stroking her mane and caressing her horn.

“Pia, if you don’t stop blaming yourself for Jack, I swear I’m gonna…arrgh!” Gladys emoted. Usually press conferences were boring affairs, covering some topic neither of them really cared about, from banning nuclear rabbits to an olive oil embargo on Narnia, for all they were concerned. But Fred, the editor-in-chief, told them this was big enough to warrant two shutterbugs: ostensibly, it was about the scandal involving their locally elected senator Moses Lydon (D-GA), who was giving a press conference to declare his innocence. But the real news was the fact that he’d received moral support from Virginia senator Tyson McAllister, a Republican. There had been rumors that McAllister was planning a run at the White House in the next few years, and whether or not that was true, the simple fact that he was here to support Senator Lydon (whose popularity had recently plummeted) was enough to make news. For a redsider to come to Lydon’s aid? Either he was truly innocent or McAllister was laying groundwork for that trip to 1600 Pennsylvania. Maybe both.

Pia aimed her trusty Nikon RQ17, its multiphase zoom lens capable of picking up the pimples on Senator Lydon’s face. Of course, she’d just photochop those out, but it always impressed her the shots she could get with her baby. Focusing for the next picture, she said, “It’s been two months of bliss for me and Richard…and two months of daily fighting with Jack. Honestly, I don’t know what to do anymore, Gladys.”

“Throw him off the top of Bank of America Plaza and then start over?” Gladys said, whimsically. For that she earned a tongue stuck at her by her friend, and the gryphon grinned. “Seriously, though, maybe Richard’s right about boarding school for Jack. Did you think about that?”

Pia shook her head. “I wouldn’t allow it.”

“He’s Richard’s son; it’s his decision, I think.”

“No, he’s our son – Richard himself has said so, and I don’t think boarding school is the best option. He needs a mother’s love, and I am now that mother, so I can’t just give up. Besides, how would it feel for him? He’s lived just with his dad all this time, and then here comes this mare that takes away his dad and then sends him away?” Pia shook her head. “I can’t let that happen to him. He needs me and I just can’t give up.”

“Uh, ladies, y’might want to focus a little more on the conference?” an older man standing next to them and wearing press credentials from the New York Times replied; on-stage, Lydon was being verbally beat up by several reporters; a few attempted to direct their inquiries to McAllister, but the man was as smooth as silk in dealing with it. They were prime shots that both females missed, and would have missed more had not the man brought it to their attention.

“Thanks,” Pia said, sheepishly. “Almost missed it.”

“Distractions in our business are a killer,” he said absently, lifting a Canon of a model she didn’t recognize but was clearly antique and well cared for. Never taking his eyes off the shots, he continued. “But if I may, it sounds like you’re recently married and have a stepchild that doesn’t get along well with you. I know how that is. I married my wife shortly after the Syrian Revolution back in ’13 and her daughter wasn’t very happy to get a new Dad. We sparred for years – well until she moved out of the house. But one day, she got her heart broken by another guy and needed advice bad. I was there for her and that’s when she realized I was always there for her. It might just take a while, but as long as you’re being true to the kid, sooner or later he’ll figure it out.”

“Thanks,” Pia said, getting the money shot of a tear trailing down Lydon’s cheek. That tear, clearly borne of stress, was going to doom him, if history was any indicator. She remembered when the mayor of Moorglade had shed tears after being accused of having an affair with a mare who wasn’t his wife; the truth had turned out to be much more sinister than that, but it had been that tear that doomed Polling Booth and it wouldn’t have surprised her if there had been human politicians who’d suffered the same thing. Shows of equinity – or humanity, in this case – didn’t always play well with a fickle voting public.

“Well, that wraps up the whole thing,” Gladys said as the press conference started winding down. “I’m telling you, though, you should probably let your husband handle this one. You and Richard deserve marital happiness, Pia, and that’s what it’s all about.”

She shook her head as she started to dismantle her tripod. “No, it’s about happiness as a family. And I can’t accept that until Jack accepts me.”

The gryphoness shook her head. “You’re insane, you know that?”

Pia smiled. “No. I’m a mother.”

“So you’re sure about this?” Max, the A-Frame’s CEO and Publisher asked the other members of his fellow board of directors.

“Hey, just think of us as the 21st century Hearst,” Richard commented. “I mean, look: the New York Times is starting local news sites, the Los Angeles Times is starting local news sites and the Examiner papers – Hearst’s old baby – are doing the same. It’s like the age of the newspaper all over again, just on a digital level. And if the A-Frame is going to survive, we’ve either gotta expand or we’re going to get bought out. Did you know the Washington Post has been buying up a lot of local news sites? They just bought up the Highside Herald.”

“The what?”

“Denver-based news site,” Fred explained, adjusting his glasses. “It’s top dog there, nearly forced the Denver Post into bankruptcy and forced them to go all-digital four years ago. Richard’s right: if we go big, we have a chance to survive. But if we end up working for someone else, well, who’s to say it won’t be the AJC cutting us all over again?”

“But didn’t you say that we’ve still got some overhead to pay back from our loan from the bank?” Charity, the Editorial Director, asked. “I mean, it wouldn’t do good for our banksheet if we’ve got a second loan we’ve got to pay off, and I’m sure that’ll start the sharks swimming.”

“Yes, but we have a secret weapon,” Richard commented. “Kirkland Industries, the folks who own this building? A few weeks ago I was talking to the guy in charge of their real estate branch, Brandon Gutierrez, and he says that Kirkland is looking to invest in a few promising businesses, and by the line of inquiry meant they were looking at us. Now, I’ve looked at some of the businesses Kirkland invests in and apparently they’ve historically had no problem with who runs the show; they’re happy to be just junior partners that sign the checks. But with the backing of Kirkland behind us, we could start up news sites in about five cities and staff them almost instantly.”

“You sound absolutely sure on this,” Max commented.

“Enough so that I just bought the rights to some old, defunct names in the newspaper industry that should give us extra credibility if we go live: Los Angeles Mirror, Politico for DC and the New York Sun. I figure with anything else, we can buy a few regional sites in the Midwest for backup.”

“That’s Richard for ya, always thinking ahead,” Peter, the Chief Technical Officer, agreed.

The final vote was 9-2 in favor of Richard heading to Kirkland headquarters in Seattle to talk things over with Gutierrez. That afternoon, Richard called Brandon up and found that yes, Kirkland was still interested in the idea and in fact the CEO was more than willing to meet with Richard himself. So plans were set and first thing Monday morning Richard would head out west to work on getting A-Frame Publications, Inc.’s fame and fortune.

That night the three had dinner. Things had improved, relatively speaking, between Jack and Pia to the point that instead of an argument or food throwing, there was pained silence. At the moment, they were enjoying a nice spaghetti Bolognese with some mycoprotein “meatballs”. Jack had reluctantly talked about his day at school, and that Open House was next week and his teacher, Mrs. Whittaker, wanted to talk to his parents.

Richard sighed. “I guess you’ll have to take that one alone, Pia. I’ve got to travel to Seattle for a business meeting. I should be gone all week.”

“That’s a shame, hon. I think it would have b—”

She was cut off by Jack’s sudden outburst of, “Dad, can I tell them that you can’t make it and we can just skip it.”

Richard looked at his son, shaking his head. “First off, Jack, it is very rude to interrupt someone while they’re speaking. Secondly, your mother is quite capab—”

“She’s not my mother!”

“Jack, that’s strike two,” Richard warned. “Plus, it will be just the two of you while I’m gone for the week and I expect you to be on your best behavior, understood?”

Jack sighed melodramatically. “Can’t I just stay over Jamie’s house? Or Tommy’s?”

Pia was about to say something but Richard gave a her a look and a soft shake of the head. He knew she was going to acquiesce, but not this time. “No. This is going to give you and your mother some time to straighten things out between you.”

“She’s not my mother! She’s just some dumb pony that y—”

Richard had enough. “Go to your room, Jack, and consider yourself grounded for the weekend, understood?” This time, the young boy didn’t acknowledge, simply just stomped away from the table as if he was auditioning to be the Dixie Godzilla and went back and slammed the door once again.

The two adults at the table were suddenly quiet for a second before Richard spoke. “Pia, I wish you’d reconsider about the boarding school. I’ve been looking into some of the local ones. Riverside Military Academy is just an hour north and I’m thinking we should look into it.”

“Richard, please,” Pia begged. “We can fix this!”

He shook his head and sighed. “Love, I can’t take this anymore. He has no respect for you and he’d rather go off the reservation than to listen to me. I’m at my wits’ end as to what to do and if he won’t listen to me, then we’ll have no choice but to do it.”

“Please, Richard, I don’t want him to go away,” she said, her eyes on the verge of tears. “We’re supposed to be a family, and how can you and I have foals…I mean, children, if our son doesn’t want to listen?”

“Okay. I’ll give you the week I’m gone to try to work things out with him; otherwise, I don’t know what else I’ll do, hon.” She rose from her seat and went over to hold her husband, wrapping her forelegs around his shoulders in support, kissing the crown of his head. “But whatever happens, I just hope it’s for the best,” he said, his voice dull and quiet.

“So do I,” she whispered.

Two days later, she wondered if she’d made the right choice. Since Monday, it had been the same pattern. Argue with him over breakfast, a painfully quiet drive to his school, Belmont Hills Elementary, spend a day at work commiserating with Gladys, pick-up Jack from school, get ignored by him while trying to make dinner, end up leaving dinner on a tray by the door and spend the rest of the evening wondering what she else she could do.

And now it was Wednesday. Clouds were setting in; the moon hidden mostly behind the clouds was as beautiful as anything Luna was responsible for. O Sacred Nightbringer, she prayed silently, please help me to get through to my foal. She knew Jack wasn’t a foal, and there was no way to know if Luna had heard her prayer, but even still, she needed all the help she could get.

“We’re here,” she told Jack, who’d been playing with some game on his tablet and ignoring her as usual. “Now I’ll need yo—” The moment the car was parked the young kid all but ripped off his seatbelt and rushed into the school, leaving Pia behind to try to figure out where exactly in the school was the classroom.

As she walked into the school, she was approached by one of the teachers, a middle-aged African-American woman. “Excuse me, ma’am? Is there something I can help you with?”

“I’m looking for Mrs. Whittaker’s class. My son’s a student, and….”

The woman looked at her strangely. “We, uh, don’t have any pony students here at the school, ma’am.”

Pia nodded. “Well, he’s not a pony. Technically, he’s my stepson, but he’s never really had a mother, so I’m it.” Offering a hoof, she introduced herself. “Sepia Tone…Sepia Byrd, sorry, still getting used to surnames. And you are?”

“June Whittaker. Well, I wouldn’t have believed it otherwise, but here you are.” A curious look crossed the unicorn’s features, and Mrs. Whittaker guided Pia towards the office faculty room. “Jack…has been telling what I thought was tall tales as of recent, about a monster at home hypnotizing his father with her evil magic and trying to keep him from being happy. Experience told me that a stepparent was involved, but the magic…well, that makes a little more sense now. Would you care for a cup of coffee?”

“Um…I should see to Jack and….”

“He’s fine, Mrs. Byrd. But I feel that you and I need to talk.”

Twenty minutes later, Pia found herself crying more than she’d ever done in her life. Everything she’d done for him, every time she’d tried to reach out to him, all for nothing. He’d told the other kids at school about the monster with his dad, and none of it was nice; instead, it was heartwrenching: tales of hatred, borderline speciesm, and wishes that she’d just die and go away for good. At the end, Mrs. Whittaker herself felt slightly guilty for revealing it.

“Mrs. Byrd?” Mrs. Whittaker said, reaching over and patting the distraught pony on the back. “I understand this is hard for you, but I thought you should know. I would have preferred your husband be here as well. Please, take all the time in the world that you need to compose yourself.”

She shook her head, blue eyes red from tears. “I just don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” she sobbed. “I’ve tried so much to be there for him – I don’t know why he hates me so.”

Mrs. Whittaker nodded. “Mrs. Byrd, I like to pride myself on being an observant person, and nothing I’ve seen of Jack indicates he’s been mistreated or abused at home. But his anger towards you: as a teacher, I can provide several different avenues of help, from family counseling to medical attention, though I doubt it’s that far.

“My husband has discussed sending him to a boarding school, but all this time I’ve been against it. He’s my son, I…he’s not my son,” she said, admitting defeat. “I’ve tried so much to have him in my life, but….” The tears started fresh again.

“Sometimes parochial schools or other methods of instructions must be done. I’m not a fan of them; I’m a big believer in the public school system, but not every parent is and sometimes those parents are right. Ultimately you two will do the right thing for Jack, I’m sure. But from what I can tell, Mrs. Byrd, is that no matter what happens, you love Jack very much. Whatever has happened, it is not your fault as a parent. I’ve seen plenty of parents who could care less about their children, if even that much. But he’s not only not yours by blood, he’s not even the same species as you. That’s a rare quality of love indeed, and just proves that you’re very much a fit parent.”

The words said were of little comfort to Pia as she drove home that night, Jack sitting in the back seat since he sensed something was wrong, though what it was, he wasn’t sure. As for the unicorn, she was so distraught by the parent-teacher talk that she barely heard the cellphone ring. Answering it via the dashboard, she recognized the number. “Yeah, Gladys, what’s up?”

On the other end of the line, the gryphoness sounded like she’d seen better days. “Oh, glad I caught ya. Randy has an interview tomorrow with an Equestriani pop-star performing in town this week; I think her name’s Midnight Moondust or something like that. Anyway, they need a photographer out there, and with Jim out in DC covering Senator Lydon’s resignation because of the scandal and me having feather flu, it’s either you or Andy – and you know how Andy is when it comes to pop stars.”

“Yeah, I can see how you covering the photoshoot would cause problems.” Feather flu was a unique, possibly magical airborne disease that affected only feathered sapients – birds were completely immune. The disease was messy for both gryphons and pegasi and with someone like Midnight Moondust being susceptible, well, it wouldn’t be good that a pegasus celebrity caught something from an A-Frame employee; the guys at the AJC or CNN would have a field day with it. “Don’t worry, I’ll cover it. But you’re gonna owe me.”

“Fine, lunch is on me when I’m back on the clock. We can go to Southern Belle’s.” Southern Belle’s was one of the more expensive restaurants in town, so it was clear Gladys was serious. “And now, I’m going to go die on my bed until Monday. See you then.”

“Take care and let me know if you need anything, Gladys. Bye.” With that, she shut off the line just as they pulled up in front of the house. Pia said nothing, instead letting Jack wander in without saying anything. She went straight to bed, not worried about Jack for a change. Tonight had proven that despite his teacher’s words, she’d failed both Richard and Jack in the worst way possible. She wasn’t a parent. She was nothing but a joke.

The sky was a sunless iron-gray as the rain fell. Pia woke up groggily, running late; she’d cried herself to sleep and slept through the alarm. She had just enough time to throw herself in the shower and cast a quick drying spell instead of doing it the old-fashioned way. As she stepped out of the bedroom, she noticed Jack had already eaten breakfast – he refused to let her even so much as make him breakfast this past week and after Monday she’d stopped arguing. Looking at the clock, she realized she didn’t have time to brew some coffee and instead threw on a jacket and a rain-shield as they made their way to her car.

The drive to his school was a challenge: he wasn’t talking and the rhythmic thrumming of the rain against the windshield was already threatening to drag her further towards slumber. But she forced herself to stay awake long enough to make it to Jack’s school to drop him off. There was a McDonald’s on the corner of South Cobb and Floyd, and once she dropped him off she could head there, grab a coffee and an Egg McMuffin and make it to the hotel where the interview was being conducted.

On the way, she noticed a bus advertisement for the new Mega Man movie that had just come out yesterday. Jack adored the character, and it gave her an idea. As she pulled into the Kiss and Ride, she said, “Jack, I’ll be here at the usual time. Do…do you want to go to the movies tonight?”

“No,” he said.

Normally she would have just shut up, but the exhaustion and despair had finally gotten to her and her tears began anew. “Jack,” she sobbed, “why do you hate me? All I want for you is the best, for us to be a family. Why can’t you accept me?”

With the instinctive cruelty of a nine-year-old, Jack rushed in for the kill. “BECAUSE YOU TOOK MY DAD FROM ME! WE WERE DOING GREAT BEFORE YOU CAME INTO OUR LIVES! I HATE YOU AND I HOPE YOU DIE, YOU DUMB UNICORN!” Before she could even respond, he jumped out of the car and ran through the rain towards the school.

Completely shocked by his words ringing in her ears, Pia forced herself to pull over and cry for several minutes, completely distraught. Not only would he never accept her, he hated her. She would not only never be a mother to him, but instead he considered her an enemy who deserved to die. She cried for the longest time, until her phone went off. “Hello?” she said, trying not to sound too broken.

“Pia? It’s Randy. Hopefully you’re on the way. Rain’s looking bad, so be careful. There was an accident on The Perimeter down by South Atlanta. Don’t know how close you are to that, but be careful, okay?”

“Yeah, I will. See you soon.” She cut off the call and got back to driving; it was now 8:20 and she was going to be late for the 8:30 interview. Unfortunately, that meant she was going to hustle. Hopefully she could get some coffee at the hotel. Keeping in mind that there was an accident down on South Atlanta, she’d just take The Perimeter to I-75 and get there that way. Now if she could just stay awake, she thought as she turned right and went towards Windy Hill.

She tried turning on the radio, turning it up in the attempt to keep herself awake, but to no avail. She blinked once. Twice. Three times. It was bad by the time she got to the I-75 interchange. I’m going to make it to the interview if it kills me, she thought to herself, opening her eyes as wide as she could and focusing on nothing else but the road. But she blinked again. And as the big rig several feet in front of her suddenly jackknifed and crushed the cars directly in front of her with no time for her to react and barely enough time to register what was occurring, she suddenly realized that her vow had just become very real.

Richard was just getting into the Kirkland building when he saw the rainfall. He vaguely remembered the old story that when rain fell, it was angels crying because someone had died. Chuckling at the nonsense of it, he went in; this was Seattle and the place was like the center of the rainstorm universe, 24/7 – Richard wondered if they’d ever seen a sunny day and what kind of public panic would arise should one ever come to pass.

But as he walked in, he put on his game face. Today, he’d sit down with Robin Kirkland, CEO of the company and offer Kirkland a ten percent share in the company. In turn, Kirkland would bankroll the new sites they needed and all would work out very happily. If they managed to sign it early enough, there was time for a celebratory lunch, and he could catch a red-eye back to Atlanta. He’d be exhausted, but it’d be worth it just to be with Pia and Jack again.

“Mr. Byrd?” Kirkland’s secretary, a woman named Maria, approached him. At first he thought she was going to offer the usual coffee and scones she’d done every day this past week. Instead, she ushered him to a private elevator, saying, “Sir, this way, please.” She was unusually businesslike and far less chipper than she’d been in the past few days – something was wrong.

“Is there something wrong, Maria?” he asked, but she remained quiet until the doors to the elevator closed and they couldn’t be heard by the public.

“There is, Mr. Byrd,” she said, the look on her face, uneasy. “We just got a call from the Atlanta Police Department. Your wife…she’s been in an accident.”

Author's Note

No, I didn't abandon another BH story for this one; the Zadi/Zecora one will be coming out right after this one. It's just that at the beginning of last week, some of my prereaders and I were discussing an idea, and then the next day at work, I overheard a conversation about a new stepmother not getting along with her stepdaughter. Both that and the conversation prior jelled in my mind and I came up with this story that rather compelled me for the whole week. Don't worry, once it's over I'll get back to the other ones.

The Stepmother, Finale

The aircraft climbed into the sky, racing towards its destination at best speed; the jet, a 6th generation Hondajet, was the latest in over-the-wing engine technology. Now that technology was being pushed to its limit as it cut through the clouds and approached its cruising altitude.

In the cabin, two men sat, both bound for the same direction. The first one was a bundle of nerves, jittery, nervous, slumped over in a chair, looking like his world had just ended. The second one, while not as anxious as the first man, still understood his sorrow and sat in a silent sympathy. After a few minutes, the second man got up and poured a drink, scotch, neat. He then went over and handed it to the first man saying, “You look like you could use one. I’d offer something else, but somehow in all this time I never seemed to master bartending.”

Richard took it and gave the man a wan smile. “Look, Mr. Kirkland—”

He waved it off. “Robin, please. Anyone says ‘Mr. Kirkland’ and I start looking for my father.”

That brought a smile to the first man’s face. “Fine, and I’m Richard.” Richard offered a hand to the other man.

Robin took and shook. “I would have hoped to have met under better circumstances, but don’t worry. We’ll get you to Atlanta in no time flat. And don’t worry about the contract or anything; as far as I’m concerned it’s a done deal. All you need to do is focus on your wife.”

“Thanks,” he said, though the confidence was gone in his voice. Burying Melissa was bad enough, but if Pia was now gone…. He forced the thought from her mind, dismissing it immediately. Pia would be okay. She was a unicorn, after all, and that meant a number of spells she could use aside from her natural talent of telekinesis – like shields, for example. He’d seen her use a shield in lieu of an umbrella plenty of times.

And then a thought crept into his mind. But what if she wasn’t? What if she blinked at the wrong time, or she got sideswiped, or…. His eyes went bleary as a shudder roared through his body. He’d just married her a couple of months ago. They had a whole life together ahead of them, right? She couldn’t be gone, not now…

Robin saw the look on the man’s face and knew he had to say something. “So, tell me about your wife. I’ve heard Pia – it is Pia, right? – is an amazing photographer.”

“She is. I’ve never seen anyone as talented as my Pia, and she lives up to her cutie mark.”

Robin’s brows rose. “Cutie mark? You married a pony?”

Richard sat back up, his mind removed from his cares for just a moment. “Yes, a unicorn mare. Pia’s short for Sepia Tone. Something wrong?”

The smile on Robin’s face widened. “Nothing at all. It just took me back to when I was younger. I dated a mare myself; beautiful gal from Canterlot. It didn’t work out; our lives were too different,” Robin said, nostalgia coloring his memories of his beloved, a beautiful young woman hiding the truth of a beautiful midnight-blue alicorn. “But while we were together, I loved her like no man ever did a woman and she loved me like no mare ever a stallion.” He looked back at Richard and his smile was wide. “You are a truly blessed man, Richard. You have the love of a life unlike no other. They say it’s humans who are overemotional, but it’s ponies that are filled with pure joy – and I’m sure your love for your wife is true.” Robin poured himself a drink and toasted his counterpart. “Here’s to your wife. May you two be happy forever.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Richard said, his mind grateful to have focused on something else.

Emory University Hospital was considered by far and away to be one of the finest medical care centers in all of the southwest, if not the nation. But despite all its lauds and accolades, there was a large gaping hole in the medical knowledge and experience at Emory, and as Pia was wheeled into the trauma center, that lack of knowledge suddenly became paramount.

The first doctor to see her immediately looked at the nurse and said, “What have we got in terms of EqDs in town?”

Nurse looked right back and him and said, “Already did; we’ve got nothing, nor does anyone within driving distance. But Johns Hopkins up in Baltimore has a ton of them and we’re getting word to them now.”

The doctor looked unnerved by that. “So we’re going to have to play the waiting game until one gets here? Okay, let’s get the patient stabilized and do what we can, we’ve got a few others coming in.”

Meanwhile, Richard’s parents had driven like the proverbial chiropterids out of chthon. Arriving at the school to pick up their grandson, they immediately rushed to the hospital. When Jack asked as to what was going on, while at first they both feigned as if it were a surprise, after a while they chose to tell him the truth. Both Nelson and Joyce knew of Jack’s dislike of his stepmother, so they were both prepared to have to scold him if necessary. What they got instead was rather surprising – nothing, not a peep.

Maybe Jack was starting to realize the magnitude of what was going on, they reasoned. Or maybe he just figured out that now was not the time to bring up how much he hated Pia. Either way his silence was a much-needed relief.

Standing in the hospital next to his grandparents as they tried to get information out of doctors, something suddenly felt very wrong to Jack and he wasn’t sure why. Hospitals were for sick or hurt people, right? The unicorn weirdo was here, which meant that she’d been hurt or got sick. Maybe she’d be here a long time and Dad would forget about her and things could just go back to normal; they hadn’t been that way for over two years now.

And yet…why did everything feel so empty? He won, right? He was getting rid of her. So…why did everything feel so wrong? He had no way to explain that, no method to decipher the cold feeling gnawing in his stomach. And as he stood in a forest of labcoats and sterile, muted colors there was nothing there that could give him any answers.

Finally, his father arrived and the first thing he did was to hold his son, tears coming from his eyes as he murmured, “It’s going to be alright, Jack, everything’s going to be alright.” That confused Jack even more so. If things were going to go back to normal, his father should have been thrilled about it. But instead, he saw his father, as badly shaken as the time Jack had fallen off his bicycle. It was enough to make Jack wonder that maybe things weren’t going to be alright this time.

In a room in intensive care there was the erratic beep of a heart monitor; normally it would be alerting the medical staff that the person the monitor was attached to was in need of assistance, but the monitor had been designed for humans in mind and not its current user, so as things were stabilized the doctors understood the “danger zone” was still within normal baselines for the patient. Accompanying the beeps was the steady pump of oxygen being fed to the patient via a mask; once again only human equipment was on hand so a lot of jury rigging had to be done to fit the mask. Lastly, the steady flow of an IV drip kept time with the other two machines. This last piece of equipment was thankfully universal enough that it wouldn’t be too much of a problem.

And somewhere in the pile of bandages was his wife. Somewhere in the mummified layers of gauze that kept the breathing mask on was his Pia; just enough of her mane poked out to confirm it. She looked so tiny and frail in the bandages against the size of the human-standard bed; the only thing clearly he could see of her from this angle was her left forehoof, laying on the bed, stilled and unmoving. It was unnatural for it to be that way, Richard thought; that forehoof, like its twin, were as animated and excited as any human hands could be, lively and full of joie d’ vivre.

But now they lay, silent as a forest at the edge of dawn. And he would sit here, tending a lonely vigil. His parents had already gone to his house with his son in an attempt to take care of the boy. Several of their friends from the A-Frame had been by, save for Gladys, who’d called to offer a teary apology for switching with Pia; Richard knew it wasn’t the gryphoness’ fault and insisted there was nothing to forgive. But that had all been hours ago, and now all he could do was to sit here in a hospital completely unprepared for an equinoid patient – for any non-human patient, one of the doctors sadly admitted – and hope help would be soon in coming.

He didn’t have to wait long. Excited conversation started filtering down the hall, as well as the steady rumble of something being pushed down the hall. Finally, as they approached, she saw one African-American woman in her late-20s or so arguing with the person assigned as Pia’s current doctor. The woman said to him, “And it never occurred to you guys to have anything on hand? Proper bandages, masks, life support systems?”

“Look, we didn’t expe—”

“According to the last census, there are twenty-seven known NHSes living in the metro Atlanta area,” the woman said, slapping a hand against a clipboard. “Didn’t anyone think something was going to happen sooner or later?” She then looked past him and to the two beefy orderlies with her and said, “Dave, Max, get that stuff in there and get going. We’re running against the clock and we’re already critically behind schedule.” They immediately went to task without acknowledging her; they’d worked with her long enough to know that was merely wasted time.

“You can’t do that,” the male doctor sputtered. “She’s m—”

“She was your patient, Dr. Munroe,” the woman said. “The moment I stepped in here, she became mine. Now I’m sure you’ve got a lot of human patients to deal with, so please, let me do my work.” She rudely did a brushing motion with her fingers to dismiss him; he in turn muttered something under his breath but she ignored it. As he walked away, she brushed the hair out of her eyes before turning to Richard and offering a hand, saying, “Mr. Byrd, I apologize that you had to see that. I’m less than pleased that a major hospital wasn’t prepared for any of this. But I’ll do everything I can to get your wife out of here better than she arrived, sir.”

Richard hadn’t expected the sudden change in demeanor. “I’m sorry, you are?” he asked as he shook her hand.

“Erica McAllister, MD, EqD. Just arrived from Johns Hopkins in Baltimore a few minutes ago.”

“Wait – a few minutes ago?”

She nodded. “We went to the Equestriani Embassy in DC, then from there used the portal to the consulate down in Miami. From there, a group of Guild mages were able to bounce-teleport us here.” She faked a look of queasiness as she added, “In all the times I’ve traveled via teleport, it never gets any less stomach-churning, let me tell you.”

There was a confused look in his eyes. “I…I’d thought Equestria would send a doctor.”

She gave him an understanding smile. “And right now you’re wondering how a lady in her late twenties and normally just out of internship is doing here, right? Well, let me tell you: I’m the best there is when it comes to taking care of ponies. I was trained by Dr. William Hilton, the founder of equiniatric medicine, and I’ve worked under him until his retirement earlier in the year. I assure you, sir, as a doctor, my non-human patients are very important to me, especially my pony ones.”

Richard sensed there was a story there. “How so?”

She laughed gently. “Well, I’m only one of a handful of people who grew up with one before First Contact. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Alien Girl – or the Lost Foal, considering you’re married to a pony. She’s my best friend, like a sister. And though she’s always been reluctant to admit it, she’s a pony with a pretty unique perspective on life. It was actually worrying about her that sent me into the medical field – to always protect my friend, so she’ll always know she’s not alone.”

“I see,” Richard said, feeling better now. Whoever she was, this doctor was willing to be upfront with her motivations, which was better than he’d seen so far.

“Let’s see,” she said, sitting down next to him, going over the chart. “Have you been appraised on your wife’s condition?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “No I haven’t.”

“They should have told you right at the beginning,” Erica replied. “Your wife is lucky to be alive, though there are some complications. Multiple fractures to bones in her body; her left radial and right pastern bones will need to be outright cloned and replaced. Plenty of contusions, not many lacerations but some internal hemorrhaging…but the biggest issues are potential nerve damage and the ACS. That last one, I’m afraid, is the big one.”

“ACS?” Richard was unfamiliar with the term.

“Acute Corneal Separation. In layman’s terms, your wife’s horn’s been broken. I haven’t seen it yet and the report’s not clear, but in any case…it’s bad. In many cases, ACS causes temporary or permanent paralysis of the limbs; your wife could be in a wheelchair for the remainder of her days. In severe cases, it can even cause death, though thankfully that wasn’t the case here. But what it will mean regardless is that your wife will never be able to use her magic again.”

Richard looked at Erica in shock: Pia’s magic was as much a part of her as her tail and hooves. “I don’t understand.”

“Unicorn horns aren’t like antlers, which grow back; or regular horns, which don’t. Unicorn horns are more properly protrusions of the skull, and that means a lot of nerve clusters are in there. For example, the magos nerve cluster is in the center of the horn, the part of the horn believed to pull the magic from its reservoirs in the body and direct them as needed through the ley cells.”

“Ley cells?”

“Plasma cells in pony blood responsible for magic storage, generation and transmission. Most laypeople call them ‘midichlorians’ after some old sci-fi term, but I’ve always found that disrespectful to my patients,” she replied. “Now, as for her horn, she can get a prosthetic – my understanding is that they look quite accurate – but it won’t work like a real one any more than an old metal plate in some elderly patients’ heads is a proper replacement for bone. Fact is, her magic is gone and you’ll have to help her through this difficult time.”

“I see,” he said. “When will she be conscious? When can I see her?”

“We’ll be taking her into surgery tonight to replace the bones requiring it and to doublecheck for anything Dr. Munroe’s team may have missed. She should be up and about by tomorrow evening and you can see her then. But I caution you to be careful, Mr. Byrd. She’s been through a lot and has a lot more of a way to go.”

It was actually over a day later, Saturday afternoon, when Pia came to. And the first thing she felt was emptiness. There were very few leylines on this earth, so unlike the symphony of lines that she could normally feel on her homeworld, the ones here stood out in stark contrast; solo singers on a hushed stage giving a grand performance. And now, she couldn’t “hear” those, either.

What she did feel was numbness. Pain. Dizziness. The last thing she remembered was a black out as the airbag—

Her eyes opened with a start, followed by the needle-sharp pain as sensoria from the light above filled her eyes for the first time in days. Through a billion miles of gauze she could hear a voice saying, “It’s okay, honey, you’re awake now.” Slowly but surely her eyes started to settle and she looked at the face of Richard, looming over her, tears in his eyes and a smile on his face. He reached down to kiss her gently and she felt the wetness of his tears on her face.

Standing aside from them, Gladys wiped a tear from her eye. She was still down from the feather flu, but she’d risk it for her friend. Turning to the doctor, she asked, “How long is she going to be here, Doc?”

“Probably for another week more,” Erica told the gryphoness. “She still needs time to recuperate in a medically safe locale. But I’ll do everything I can to make sure she’s okay.”

Hearing the doctor’s statement, Richard didn’t care about that at the moment. Pia was alive – that was the only thing that mattered. Tomorrow they’d have to deal with all other troubles and worries, but for now, she was alive and her would do any and everything to make sure she stayed safe. She’d be here another week, but after that, she could come home and the real healing would begin.

“Son, your mother will be coming back from the hospital tomorrow.” Richard sat down with his son at the table and looked at him firmly. “She needs a lot of help and I expect you to do so, understood?” Jack sat there silently, not saying a thing. Richard took that as a sign that his son wasn’t in the mood to argue and left it at that, instead changing the subject. “So, how’s the tacos?”

Jack scrunched up his face; was it really okay to tell his dad the truth? “Well….”

Richard rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I think they suck, too. I’ve never really been a good cook, you know that.”

Jack nodded. In fact, since the day the weirdo unicorn got thrown into the hospital and they were back to his father’s cooking, the menu…had gone slightly downhill. In truth, well…the weirdo did know how to cook, and her food was good, so maybe…having her back wouldn’t be all that bad….

Pia looked in the mirror and tried not to cry. She looked at the remains of her once beautiful horn, now a jagged, ugly-looking wreck.

Richard noticed and said, “Here, love, let me help you with that.” He gingerly lifted the prosthetic to her head and with a flash of cerulean magic – the color of the unicorn who created it, not the orange hue her aura was – the artificial horn immediately and perfectly imitated her original one, completely with the soft, velvety fur that had covered it. But she knew it was a lie. Just like so much of her life was now.

Reaching over to caress her cheek, Richard smiled. “Are you ready?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m not sure I’ll ever be. But I’ll try.”

He reached over and kissed her. “That’s my gal. C’mon. Let’s get going.” He got out of the new car, a minivan he’d purchased to replace hers and he did, on the other side, the side gate opened. A motorized system pulled her wheelchair back from the passenger seat, then pulled it even with the gate before the platform turned stretched out, allowing the lift mechanism to slide to the ground. Richard had been told that newest technology in ADA-compliant vehicles allowed for a modular use; in a few months with a small fee he could reverse the configuration so she could do her own driving, and once she was back to normal, they could eventually turn this back into a normal minivan.

As for Pia, each agonizing moment waiting for the servos to do their duty only served to remind her just how imprisoned she was now. So much was now gone because of her wounds: Dr. McAllister had found extensive damage in the nerves and muscles in Pia’s forelegs; while she could carry some things and with strength training increase the load bearing capacity, she could no longer support her own body weight. While her hindlegs were still injured and healing, those stood a better chance of complete recovery. But what it had meant was that at best, she’d be bound to upright walking for the rest of her life. Dr. McAllister had often mentioned her best friend, DJ Martinez, the Lost Foal, and how she’d adjusted to a human lifestyle with no problem. But at the end of the day, Pia had gone one step farther: the Lost Foal was still, when push came to shove, an earth pony with all the strength and agrimancy of one. Pia, now cut off from her magic and forced to walk upright for the remainder of her days, was closer to human than Martinez would ever be.

Unaware of her thoughts, Richard checked the mail and found a letter from San Diego. Opening it, he smiled. “Well, looks like we’re in luck, love: Ms. Martinez got Dr. McAllister’s note and said she would be happy to record a few videos for you on hoofspace dexterity and strength training. She also said she’s got a book tour at the beginning of next year and would be happy to swing by, if we want.”

“Sure,” Pia droned, dejected, looking at her forelegs, which she could barely lift at the moment. Right now it was taking all her strength to just lift them this far. She looked at Richard as he approached her and she didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t even lift her forelegs – “arms”, that’s what they are now; they’ll never be forelegs ever again – to cry into them.

Richard went to hold her. “We’ll get through this, Pia.” Slipping behind her, he pushed her wheel into the home. Once there, she was surrounded by both Nelson and Joyce, who embraced her and ensured her she wasn’t alone. She didn’t want to hear any of that right now; if anything, she wanted to be left alone. It would be easier to deal with the sorrow and emptiness she felt at the moment. She felt hollow, as if something essential had been scooped out of her and the hole sewed back up; no one would understand the loss of the connection, but she always would, forever and eternally.

She turned to look in a direction and, to her surprise, found Jack looking at her from the safety of his bedroom door before he slid behind it and closed it. Well, that was already a battle she’d lost and she now had her own health to deal with, first. She would have to just settle down to a miserable life.

Joyce noticed the look on her face and said, “Y’know, when I was a little girl, Pia, I fell off a horse and broke both legs. Took a long time to heal, but I was strong enough to do it. You’ll do just fine, I’m sure.”

“Yeah,” she replied. She just wanted to hide, and maybe the world wouldn’t notice her. Maybe she could just die in peace.

It was a week after she’d returned from the hospital. She was on indefinite medical leave from the A-Frame, with Fred giving her no other orders than to get healthy. Richard assured her that everything would be okay, and even if she decided she needed to resign from the company, they were well off enough that they could afford it. But even mentioning that to Pia put a new dent in her heart as it only served to remind her how useless she’d become – she’d become nothing more than a decoration on wheels in her own home, no different than a plant that needed to be watered and aired out occasionally. And each day served up a new way to slap her in the face with this new reality.

Even now, she watched the cheerful pony onscreen as she effortlessly twirled a pen in her hoofspace. The dexterity – there was no other way to describe it; it certainly wasn’t normal unguality but instead well beyond it – shown by Ms. Martinez in the video was nothing less than incredible. She then slowed down the process, her voice coming over the laptop’s speakers:

“…and it’s simple: put the pen in between your first extensory and your third one, then pick up the pen within them, then start rotating them amongst the various extensories you can create from your hoofspace. I know of some ponies who do up to eight; I prefer using just five, because, well…I’m sure you understand.” Ms. Martinez shrugged on the video, then continued. “What you can extend is up to you, but I don’t recommend more than eight, because the more extensories you create, the more you’ll physically exhaust your hoofspace musculature in the same way a human ends up with sore hands.”

Pausing the video, Pia then reached out to the pen, and gripped. The extensories, the radial portions of the hoofspace assigned to certain hoofspace muscles picked up…

…and promptly dropped. The pen fell, bounced off the table and clattered onto the floor, where it would sit, well out of her reach. She sighed, but she also knew this wasn’t going to be easy. She was about to reach for something else that she should start with, something a little easier. Maybe the pencil; it’s got flat sides unlike the pen, so it should be a little easier to grip….

Clik. She turned her head slightly and found the pen sitting on the table. She also noticed Jack walking away from the table, headed back to his room. Had he just…? She wanted to call out to him, but realized she had to have imagined the whole thing. And she wasn’t really in the best of shape, mentally; the wounds were still too fresh and the pain still too real. Turning off the video and reaching over to close the laptop – broad motions that she could do with basic moves of her hooves – she then wheeled herself back to the bedroom to get some sleep. Tomorrow she’d try again. But for now, there was just the confusion and pain in her mind.

When Richard came home that night, he’d had a rough day. Fortunately, it had been one of those days where it was a school holiday for Jack, though the news never stopped; Pia was obviously home, so they didn’t have to arrange for babysitting, but even still, with Pia at a distinct disadvantage, Jack was going to be unimaginably problematic, held only in check by the fact that Richard’s temper was shorter than usual due to the added stress.

So it was a complete surprise to him when he came home to find his son, hunched over the stove, stirring something in a pot. That was unusual in itself; Jack had professed absolutely zero interest in cooking whatsoever even before Pia had come into their lives and Richard, as the adult, had either done all the (admittedly substandard) cooking or they went out or ordered delivery. But here was Jack, now suddenly at work in the kitchen. Then as the scent hit Richard….

Tomato soup? But Jack hates tomatoes, with the exception of tomato sauce and ketchup. Come to think of it, I’m really not much of a fan of it, either. In fact, the only one who really eats it is…. Richard froze at the complete schizophrenia of that thought: why on Earth would Jack be making soup for Pia?

“Uh, Jack, what are you doing?”

“Um….” The look on this kid’s face was as clear as day. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“No.” And with that, he walked away. Richard went over and found the soup, ready to go and everything. Prepping it, he went over to the bedroom just in time to find Pia struggling with getting herself onto the bed. After assisting her, he then fed her the soup while talking about his day. “Everyone misses you, Pia. Especially Gladys – she’s constantly complaining she actually has to work now instead of just wandering around the offices with her coffee cup like a social butterfly.”

Pia laughed slightly at that. “Yeah, that sounds like her. Maybe we need to hire a young gryphon stud to keep her busy?”

“Almost did – gryphon working out of Milwaukee, works for the Milwaukee Express-Herald. Sports reporter, and we certainly could use one. Unfortunately, his current bosses upped their counter-offer, so he opted to stay there. Such is life, I guess,” he answered. “But speaking of life, how about you?” he asked, spooning a dab of tomato soup her way.

“Not going to be easy,” she admitted. “I’m trying, but…well, Martinez makes it look so easy. I really never had to use hoofspace as much because I had my TK. But now….” She smiled, swirling the soup in her mouth. “Ah, being hand-fed by my husband: a gal could get to like this,” she teased. “But thanks for the soup, hon – how’d you know to make it? You’ve only been home a couple of minutes, right?”

“Let’s call it serendipity,” Richard replied. It was too soon to tell if the truth had actually been the truth, or just some weird coincidence that had unfolded in front of him.

It was now Christmas Day and just a few days after Hearths Warming Day, she noted with a soft smile, as the tree in their home was decorated with ornaments from both holidays. She was walking around gingerly, now that her new doctor, a colleague of Dr. McAllister’s who had just been hired on by Emory as part of their brand-new Non-Human Sapients Medical Care division, had advised Pia to take small trips out of her comfort zone now and then. Dr. Eris DeLancie was nearly as impish as her trainer, and as a result she and Pia got along well. A former vet much like the founder of equiniatric medicine had been, Eris gave Pia a number of suggested exercises that she could use to strengthen her legs quickly enough to get out of the wheelchair, but that once that was done, physical therapy would be much different. The “pseudocorn”, as Pia had labeled herself, agreed wholeheartedly. It also helped that Eris and her husband had found a house down the street from them.

As she wobbled unsteadily into the living room, Richard and his family gasped and soon surrounded Pia, embracing her and congratulating her on her success. It wasn’t much; five minutes later her legs gave out and she had to return to the wheelchair, but it was a starting point. The first true goalpost had been reached and things were going to be okay after all. But just in the corner of her eyes, just for a second, she thought she saw Jack smiling at her. Maybe it was just her imagination, or maybe it had been a facial tic on his part. But as much as the love she was being given by her husband and in-laws counted, that smile, real or imagined, warmed her heart even more.

“…Nine…hngh…Ten,” Pia gasped as she fell to the ground, spent and sweaty. She was now out of the wheelchair permanently; that was the good news. The bad news now was that strength training was commencing and that meant doing a lot of exercises she’d never done before. With ponies, it was easy: sprints, canters and trots for all, with additional wingwork if you were a pegasus. But with her condition, she was on a human workout regimen, and she'd discovered quickly how (mind-bogglingly) complex the regimen was: walking on a machine called an elliptical, then something called “pushups” to help with her upper body strength, and a few various other exercises. Pia wasn’t exactly the athletic type of mare, and she had to admit, this was killing her.

She tried to bring herself back into pushup position, but her forele—arms—gave way and she collided with the ground again. Deciding that enough was enough she sat back up, toweling herself off and deciding she was going to need a long shower before figuring out what to do with her day. After all, four months after the accident, she had plenty of time on her hands, since she resigned from the A-Frame the week prior. That had hurt a lot; in the years she’d been there the staff was like a second family, something always important for orphans such as her. But with her still having problems with fine motor skills and grasping, she stood no chance to ever hold a camera again, especially not with the extremely sophisticated human-style models she’d grown accustomed to; pony technology wasn’t even remotely close to the same resolution. So she did the only thing she could, in order to focus on her healing.

It didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, and now, looking at the February sky outside, it dawned on her how much she’d lost. If she’d still been on staff, likely she’d be out right now covering the new senator and her attempts to make up for Lydon’s errors. Or she’d be taking pictures of the exclusive interview DJ P0N-3 was giving the A-Frame as she recorded her new album here in Atlanta. Or any of a number of assignments. But instead, as officially nothing more than a housewife, her only duties were to continue her healing and keep the house clean…

…and on that point, she’d had the strangest help. Jack, maybe because he was growing up or because he’d started to listen to his father again, started to help around the house. But one thing was for sure: she and Jack were not on speaking terms. Dinner was mostly silent. Whenever she’d asked Jack to do something, he’d do it, but he wouldn’t acknowledge her outright. Did he still hate her? Did he blame her for what happened and the trauma they’d all been through? She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she still cared about Jack and that his silence in many ways hurt even more than his prior outbursts.

Walking into the bedroom, she undid her docktail – she wondered where humans had ever picked up the term “ponytail” for the same manestyle – threw her clothes into the hamper and took a quick shower. Once that was out, she dried herself off, threw a new set of clothes on and went to the kitchen to see what she could make for dinner. She was doing well enough that she’d taken over the cooking again, and just in time, too: while she loved her husband very much, cooking wasn’t one of Richard’s better skills. After flitting through a cookbook, she found a nice four-cheese quiche that she could whip up relatively quickly. As she set things to get ready, she suddenly felt light in the head. Maybe I need to sit do—

She never finished the thought as she hit the floor, already unconscious and convulsing.

Jack got off the bus, glad to be home. Since the unicorn couldn’t take him to school anymore, his father suggested he’d ride the bus. And since it picked up and dropped off a couple of blocks away from home, he didn’t have a problem with that. In fact, it was fun: he got to spend more time with his friends at school and meet new kids his age…as well as staying away from his former friends. Jamie, well, he turned out to be a huge liar about everything; and Tommy, if you didn’t agree with him, he’d try to boss you around for everything.

It was also during those times that he found out that maybe stepmothers weren’t as bad as expected. Lyle said that while his old mom never cared, his new one always spent time with him; Karen said that her old mom was in jail but that her new mom was an Air Force fighter pilot – and everyone knew that was a cool job! And, he had to admit, now that the unicorn was cooking again, food was getting better, and Dad was happier, and as for Jack himself, he really didn’t mind helping around the house. It was almost like old times. Better, even.

One day, Jack even almost admitted to his father that it wasn’t bad having the unicorn around, after all.

But as he began to admit that to himself, a new thought came into his head: how mean he’d been to her before all this. He knew how much he’d been at fault for her accident. How much he wanted her to go away…and how much he’d wanted her to die – and she almost did. She probably hated him now, any of those words of love and warmth now as far gone as her ability to use magic, another thing no longer around the house. He’d caused her to lose so much, so how could anyone like that still care? They hadn’t really spoken in months, mainly because he was afraid of what he knew she’d say: how much she now hated him. And truthfully? He knew he probably deserved it.

So as he entered the house and found her unconscious on the floor, shaking, his first reaction was one of shock. The second, however, was borne of everything that his dad taught him: he raced over to the phone and punched 9-1-1 on the keypad, hoping to get emergency services immediately.

“This is 911 Emergency Services. Please state the nature of the emergency.”

“I…uh, the….” He didn’t know what to say. “Please, I need some help here.”

“Young man, is there an emergency?”

“Yes! She….” Jack suddenly became tongue-tied. He had such an easy time telling her how much he hated her, why was it so hard to save her life? If she was gone, everything would be back the way it w…no, it won’t ever be that way. Dad wouldn’t want to lose her.

I don’t want to lose her.

And then Jack uttered the words he never thought he would ever say: “I need help. My…my mother…sh-she’s been injured.”

“Pia?”

Pia opened her eyes slowly; the familiar sting of sensoria blinded her for a second but just a second, leaving the afterimage of the LED bulb burned into her retinas before quickly disappearing. She sat up, in bed again. Looming over her was her doctor, a smiling, tanned woman with hazel eyes and a well-styled coif of platinum hair. “Pia, how are you feeling?”

“Like hell.” Her eyes then focused a little more and she suddenly realized who it was. “Eris?”

Eris flashed a wild, uncouth smile. “Glad to see you’re amongst the living. But I’ll have to admit…it was a close one.” When the look on Pia’s face was a blank puzzle, the doctor continued. “Blood clot – must’ve formed from the car crash and no one noticed. Anyway, it placed itself in the remains of your horn – you been having headaches lately?”

“Yeah, but I thought it was just phantom pain from losing my horn,” Pia replied, her mouth tasting like cotton.

“Well, it was actually pressing itself against the majority of your nerve cells in the horn, which gave you a seizure. If we didn’t get you here in time, well….” The doctor shook her head. “There’ve been several cases of magic flares with a broken horn. The results would have been ugly. As it was, we were able to find it with a quantum scan and laser scalpel it from outside, so you should be good to go home tomorrow, right as rain.”

“How did I…?” the mare asked. She’d just remembered being dizzy and then all of a sudden, she was here, so…how?

Eris merely moved out of the way, revealing a worried and teary Jack standing there. The doctor smiled and said, “I’ll let you two talk a bit. If you need me, I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.” With that, she walked away, only pausing to pat the boy on the shoulder. And then she was gone, leaving the two to look at each other.

The pair stared at each other for what seemed like the better part of eternity, before Pia dared say something, “Jack, I….” She didn’t get any farther than that before the young boy rushed the bed and glomped the older mare in a hug.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed. “I’m sorry I said I wanted you to die,” he moaned, holding on to her tightly. “Please don’t die, Mom, please don’t die!”

“It’s okay, Jack,” she said, stroking his hair before the word registered. “Wha?”

“I’m sorry! Just…don’t go, okay? Don’t leave us!”

With her hoof, she raised his face, a smile on hers and tears of joy in her eyes. “I won’t, Jack, okay? We’re a family, and I’ll always be here for you.” She kissed him on the cheek and then the two embraced once more, mother and child.

“Pia!” Richard and Gladys raced into the room, expecting the worst. As they arrived, they found Pia asleep on the bed, head curled over that of Jack, who was hunched over the bed and also relaxed.

“Well, Richard,” the gryphoness said to her friend’s husband, “Looks like things are back to normal.”

“No,” he said, a grin on his face. “They’re better than that.”

Pia’s hooves jittered as she held the camera. I can do this, she snarled mentally. I can do this! She focused everything into holding the camera and aiming, while jutting out an extensory to hit the shutter button. Part of her hoof warped as it indented, the muscles rippling as they reached out—

—and nearly dropped the camera—

—only to be caught by Jack. “Need help?” he asked.

She smiled, then looked at her subject. “You mind sitting there a few more minutes, hon?”

Richard, sitting on the sofa nodded. “For you two? All the time in the world.”

She looked at Jack. “If you don’t mind, then….”

“No, not at all.” Several seconds went by then as Jack, holding her hooves together and trying to stay out of the way of the shot, let Pia stretch out with her extensory and with a click, take the picture. A second later, the image was on the back screen of her camera. Her right hoof was sore from stretching out farther than she’d ever done before, and the picture looked like something an amateur would have taken, but for now, it was a beginning.

Jack hugged her. “You did it!”

She returned the embrace, holding her son tight. “No, Jack. We did it.”

“Mom, can I go to the park?”

Pia looked at Gladys and Eris, who were over for lunch to hear about Pia’s new job. She smiled at her friends, muttering in jest, “Kids are sooo impatient these days, aren’t they?”

The young voice cried out again. “Mom, can I?”

Eris grinned. “You’re not going to get any peace at this rate, you know.”

Gladys shrugged. “Just another reminder why I’m single.”

“Mom!”

Pia sighed. Turning slightly, she said, “You really need to learn patience, you know that?”

“I’ll learn patience later!”

“Fine, ask your brother,” Pia replied.

The voice screamed out, “Jack! Mom said to take me to the park!”

A couple of seconds later, 14-year-old Jack poked his head in to look at the trio of ladies. “You really didn’t say that, did you, Mom?”

“You know your sister. Just...if you’re taking her, she can’t have any ice cream, since dinner’s going to be in a few hours.”

“Got it.” Turning his head, he shouted back, “Okay, Melissa, go get ready. We’re going and you’re not going to give me any grief, got it?” There was a groan of a little girl agreeing to her older brother’s demands, and then all was silent.

“So now that that’s done, tell us about the job!” It had been five years of practicing and practically relearning to shoot, but for Pia, it had been paradise. Without the handicap of her magic to fall back on, she’d forced herself to shoot photos in the same way humans did – naturally – and in the process had become even better at her craft. Now, five years after having left the A-Frame, she was now a very much in-demand studio and freelance photographer.

“Well, Princess Celestia will be visiting Atlanta for the first time next week, and I’ve been asked to be the exclusive photographer for her jaunt here. Apparently she was impressed by some of the landscape photos I did last year and specifically asked for my services. This is going to be the chance of a lifetime!”

“I’ll say,” Gladys replied. “You were always good, Pia, but now – I’m utterly jealous of your photography now.”

“And just to think,” Eris added, “just a few years ago you were far from this – kid who hated you, never thought you’d have a second one, were afraid you weren’t even going to walk again much less have human-level dexterity in your hooves. You’ve done well for yourself, Pia, despite losing your magic.”

Jack poked his head in. “Okay, taking her now, Mom. We’ll be back in a couple of hours.” Pia merely looked at him and nickered slightly. His response was to roll his eyes, then with the embarrassed reaction every teen ever had, went and kissed his mother on the cheek. As he pulled away, he laughed. “And you say I need to shave….”

As he walked off, Pia lifted her cup of coffee and smiled. “Yes, I miss my magic and lost a lot that day. But if it wasn’t for that loss, I’d not have gained so much more. I’ll take that trade anytime.”

Naon

Zadi absolutely hated this. She hated everything about this place. It was part of the reason why she took the chance to attend a college on Human-Earth when she got a chance. Because of all this crap.

Quaggaton. Ah, beautiful Quaggaton, the Jewel of the Southeastern Continent. Reputedly, Quaggaton was the cradle of civilization and the place from which the first alicorns sprung into existence before they moved across the Ethopic Ocean to the Northwestern Continent. The first university was said to have been built in Quaggaton. The Carta Manula, one of the most important documents in all of Alter-Earth, had been signed just north of the city. The ci—

Oh, who was she kidding? Quaggaton was a shithole that she was lucky had somehow managed to master indoor plumbing. If after nearly twenty years human technology was still unavailable in large swaths of Equestria, it was magnitudes worse for Quaggaton, capital of Zebrababwe, the largest of the five nations on the Southeastern continent. Someone had once uncharitably compared the continent with Africa, but there was a key difference: people in Africa knew what an Aeu’ayra-damned phone was. And as she looked at the streets of an adobe-and-stucco “city”, she was deathly afraid she was going to get some infectious disease by staring at this shit much longer.

And the sad part is? I’m technically from this shithole. Zadi ni’Zecora, granddaughter of the Ambassador to Equestria. She’d been born and raised in Canterlot, and though technically a Zebrababwean citizen because of her bloodline, was also Equestrani due to her birth. Then, when her mother had become the Zebrababwean Deputy Ambassador to the United States, she jumped at the chance to study abroad. She never went back; the human world was so enticing to her that the moment she arrived, returning was not an option she entertained. That, combined with being practically the only zebra not attached to the government on Human-Earth, ensured a lot of doors were opened for her careerwise. She applied for, and got, her US citizenship and a cushy job working for Amnesty International covering some of the potential issues that arose in human/non-human relations. And there was plenty of that to deal with.

But now, for the first time in her life, she found herself in the land of which she was supposedly a citizen by birth, a mere accident because of her relation to the Equestriani ambassador. Zebrababwean by blood, Equestriani by upbringing and also blood, and American by choice. So guess which one she wanted to ditch? And the truth was, she was very much about to, until the letter from her grandmother.

What I wouldn’t do to be in my apartment in Arlington right now. Maybe if she went back, there’d be time to make up with Jason. Maybe he’d come back and say leaving was just a mistake. Maybe he’d wa…. Zadi laughed bitterly at that last one. She was a wreck when it came to relationships. None of them had ever lasted save for Carlos, and she chose to end that one only to find he would have been the one who stayed, especially since he ended up marrying her best friend, Bree. But Jason wasn’t coming back, just like Nick before him, or Alex before him, or Kyle before that, or….

She didn’t need to be here. She didn’t want to be here, in a land she technically belonged to but didn’t want a part of, in a land that needed to have a King that would at least plan to join the 20th Century sometime before the 22nd arrived on Human-Earth, in a land whose biggest exports were dust storms and knick-knacks that ended up in overpriced import stores like Pier One. In fact, the only reason she was in this shitbag of a nation was because of…

“Zadi, dear, what a surprise! My granddaughter, before my eyes! I’ve missed you so, my dear, dear heart, and for too long we’ve been apart.” An aged zebra mare walking on all fours approached her. Despite her age, she held herself well and dressed in the finery of formal Zebrababwean attire, Zecora ni’Zadra went over and hugged her granddaughter. “Wengi baraka na wewe, mtoto wa punda, mtoto wangu,” Zecora said in the ancient Zebrababwean Swahili language, a tongue Zadi noted had been used until someone in this shithole of a country decided that looking like backwards idiots wouldn’t do well on the modern stage.

Zadi sighed; it was going to be a long, long, long week. “Hello, Bibi,” she said, returning the hug.

“My dearest granddaughter why did you decide our language to eschew?” Zecora asked as she released the hug. “I understand your language choice, yet Swahili will help your voice. To know many tongues helps create a mind most nimble, quick and great.”

“Look, Bibi, nobody…I mean, nopony speaks like that. Not the rhyming patois, not Swahili, nothing. Hell, humans don’t even use their version of Swahili anymore; most of those countries switched over to English a long time ago. And it’s not like I don’t speak foreign languages. I just took a State Department crash course in Russian a few weeks ago. Tongue tripping over the whole thing, but if my job’s going to have me monitor the whole Polara-Minos border affair, I do need to speak at least one of those languages.”

“The polar bears are quite the devious type, the threat they show is not mere hype,” Zecora advised. “And just as well the minotaurs would happily send them straight to Mars. I fear the two sides will come to blows, and what happens next no soul truly knows.”

“Yeah, yeah, and there’s been some cases of Polaran PAK-FAs firing on Minosan J-20s. The Russians are staying out of it as they’re allies with both nations, but Equestria has asked NATO to look into a peacekeeping force. Considering that both sides are so trigger-happy they’d probably fire on bluehat troops, yeah, my job just got a lot harder. And then…this,” she muttered.

“Bluehat? What is that? And what this next concern of yours that has you vexed and so much sore?”

“Bluehats are UN peacekeeping forces. Some are top of the line combat troops, while others…well, there’s a reason several countries are no longer allowed to provide troops to UN peacekeeping groups.” She sighed. “As for the other thing, I may as well get it off my withers…look Bibi, I hate this place. I’m supposed to come from here, and yet…this is my first time here. And this,” she said, waving her forearms, “is a pigsty. My trash can back home in my apartment in Arlington is cleaner than half the streets here.”

Zecora looked as if she’d been slapped. “Granddaughter, this is your home. It is where your ancestors roamed. You, young one, are a part of this land, as much in your blood as in its sand,” she said, the older zebra’s feelings hurt. “I understand this is your first time in your native nation, and you are here for a celebration.”

“What celebration? The Festival of How to Use Soap? Bleachfest 2046? No, I get it: The Great Detergent Gala!” Zadi replied, her voice carrying an undercurrent of snarkiness. “Look, Bibi, I love you dearly, but if you and Mama wanted me to love this place as much as you do – and I’ve no idea why – maybe it would have been a good idea to bring me before I learned concepts like hygiene?”

Zecora’s face took a sad cast. “Zadi, I had always hoped you’ll find a loving zebra stallion to suit your mind. Someone to have and hold you in love, and always cherish you as a gift from above.”

“Like that’s gonna happen,” the younger Zebra muttered. “Can’t meet the stallion of my dreams when I’m dating human men.”

Zecora stopped and looked at her grandchild. “Human…men?” The thought was so striking it caused a rare skip in her rhyme.

“Yes, men. Okay? I live in the human world – what was I supposed to date? The non-sapient zebras in Africa? I’m the only non-governmental zebra living on human-Earth! I suppose I could date a pony stallion – oh, wait…there’s that whacked-out birth ratio. Yup, looks like I’m going to be hooking up with more human guys then.”

“Zadi, I would prefer if you treated your grandmother with a little more respect.” Another zebra approached; unlike Zecora and Zadi, her colors were deep purple stripes on a field of gray. “She is one of our nation’s rhyming shamans, and it’s one of the most prestigious positions in our land.”

Oh, and here’s the other criminal in this tragedy, Zadi thought. “Hello, Mother,” Zadi replied, looking at her mother, Zaleva ni’Zequadi. “Took time off from your duties at the embassy to watch me contract some terminal disease?”

Zaleva went over and hugged her mother, dropping to all fours as she intoned, “Mama, furaha vile kuona wewe!”

“And a joy to you, my dearest child. It’s been too long, an arduous while,” Zecora replied in English.

Zaleva looked at her daughter. “You’re not on human-Earth any longer, Zadi. You should act like a proper mare in society. You are, after all, a member of House Malindi.”

“Yes, prim and proper – just like you, who married a pony. How is Dad doing anyway, since you divorced him? Oh, and my sister, too – still mad that Dad insisted she have a pony name?”

“This isn’t about your father nor Safimotoni—”

“Her name is Fresh Baked, mother, not Safimotoni. And you act ashamed because she turned out to look like a pony. It’s just as feasible that I could have looked like one as well. Are you so specist that you spurn your own husband and daughter? Or did you forget that we all have a pony ancestor way back when? Why do you think our House is the only zebra one with cutie marks?”

“I am not specist, you know that. And I never divorced him; we just chose to live apart. And what do you think Safimotoni means in Swahili? I love your sister, and I love you – but what is wrong with me wishing my oldest daughter would follow in my hoofsteps? Someday, Aeu’ayra forbid, that your grandmother will move on to the Great Savannah, and I will be the head of the House. And you will be my heir. And you should act like such!”

“Did it ever occur to you that I like living on human-Earth? That I prefer men to stallions because they don’t act like dumb, macho jerks? That your granddaughter will probably have a name like Nora or Sarah or anything other than something desperately lacking in consonants?” Zadi did a facehoof. “You know, for someone so supposedly cosmopolitan, your mind is practically provincial, Mother!”

“I would prefer it if you used the Swahili term to address me, Zadi.”

“Sure, Mama. Oh, is there any other Equestriani loan words that you’d like me to use?”

“Please, you two, you shouldn’t fight,” Zecora interjected. “It pains my heart to see that sight.”

“Fine, Mama, but I promise to straighten out my wayward daughter,” Zaleva insisted.

“Bibi, can you get your hooves on a genderstone for me? I guess if Mother wants me barefoot and pregnant, I should go trolling for guys as soon as I can,” Zadi retorted.

“Naon,” was all Zecora said.

Zaleva looked at her, then turned away. “Of course, Mama, you’re right. My apologies.”

“Naon? What is Naon?” Zadi asked.

“The reason that I called you here. The Naon time is almost near.”

Zadi looked at her grandmother in confusion, then brought out her phone and started to search. A second later she gave up, reminded that she was as far away from technology as could be. Finally, she turned back to the other two and asked, “What’s Naon?”

“I’ll tell you, dear heart, for a cost: for this week you as a lawyer must be lost. A mare of Malindi you must be, and not the humanized zebra I see.”

“So…you want me to walk on all fours. And…style my mane in the traditional cut?” Both Zecora and Zaleva nodded. “And wear the traditional robes?” Two more nods. “Great. Fuck my life.”

An hour later, in the old ancestral home – which turned out not to be as bad as it seemed – Zadi was on all-fours (or as Carlos once called it, “Four Wheel Drive” – Must’ve gotten that from that friend of his he grew up with, she reasoned) and feeling very uncomfortable. And aside from a bunch of garish golden bangles denoting her as a scion of House Malindi, she was completely naked, feeling even more uncomfortable than previous. Wow, and to think that Kyle always wanted me like this. Small wonder that when I said no, he bailed. At least he was one boyfriend she was glad to be rid of. At least her tail hung down naturally down over her private parts as she walked on all fours – if that had been exposed, she’d probably be two shades of red for the rest of the week.

On the bright side, she found out what the Naon was. Sorta. In an entry in a dictionary – an old paper one, no less – it explained the Naon as a ceremony between grandmothers and granddaughters, and the purpose of which was to honor their goddess, Aeu’ayra. The word, strangely enough, wasn’t of Swahili origin, and the dictionary didn’t give any further explanation; without Wikipedia or access to the internet, there was little chance of finding out what else was about the ceremony, and as her grandmother was one of the shaman priestesses for it, well, she was being cryptic about the whole damn thing. About the only thing extra she’d discovered was that she was supposed to go through it instead of both she and Freshie because Zadi was the eventual heir to Malindi and thus the torchbearer.

So, Zadi did the only thing possible: she locked herself in the room, refusing to come out. The only time she did was to get something to drink – as a minor miracle, her grandmother at least had magical kitchen appliances that worked like modern conveniences – but she left after she noted one of the housekeepers, some stallion with too few braincells and too much bravado, putting the moves on some zebra mare as if he was the last stallion on Alter-Earth. Probably if she got close enough to eavesdrop, she would probably hear his whole spiel of “Grgnr like Tarqa! Grgnr mate with Tarqua!” which would probably, in this craphole of a country, pass for the equivalent of Tristan and Isolde.

There was a knock on the door. “Zadi, may I come inside? This room is certainly no place to hide.”

“Sure, Bibi,” Zadi replied. “I’m imprisoned for the week anyway.”

“You’re no prisoner, dearest heart of mine. What makes you think that I’d be unkind?”

“Bibi, it’s not you,” she sighed. “It’s Mother. She doesn’t want what’s best for me. What she wants is me to marry one of those troglodytes out there beating their barrels with their forehooves and expecting me to just go weak in the knees for that. My life is different, surely you understand that.”

“I understand more than you know – though at times I wish it wasn’t so.” Zecora then explained about a friend of hers and how she’d lost her daughter so long ago. The daughter turned out to be the Lost Foal, Carlos’ friend, and nearly twenty years after mother and daughter had bid each other goodbye in the worst way possible, there was no hope of reconciliation. Zecora had been there to help Rarity now and then, though Rarity’s histrionics, bad attitude and outright intolerance at times had not made it easy.

Zadi, in turn explained how she was friends with one of the Alien Girl’s best friends, and how the two had met once. She found DJ Martinez to be very human in her outlook, not at all like a pony mare and very much unlike a typical Equestriani. Obviously Zadi’s story conflicted with Zecora’s at many points, and in the end both mares agreed the whole situation was tragic and sad.

“Perhaps if they’d listened and not yelled, mother and daughter would have jelled,” Zecora answered.

“Perhaps, Bibi, but the truth is, we have the same problem here: you raised Mother partially in Equestriani culture, partially in this culture. You spent all that time apart from Babu so you could accomplish that, and I respect that. This place, no; respecting what you and Babu did, yes.”

“It wasn’t very easy for me, being apart from my Chegeni. I loved him much, your grandfather, and when I think of him my heart’s a-stir.”

Zadi nodded. “I miss him, too, Bibi,” she admitted. “But while you and Babu figured out a way to normalize raising Mother in this culture, she didn’t do that. She and Dad raised me as Equestriani. And now I’m supposed to navigate life as though I’ve lived my whole life here? How am I supposed to comprehend this place? It’s not fair to me.”

Zecora stood there, saying nothing, merely letting her granddaughter continue.

“And I don’t care for how she treats Dad – he taught me and Freshie how to chase our dreams and not be tied down by pointless tradition. He was happy when I got accepted to college on human-Earth. And Mother decides to practically call it Splitsville with him, and why? Because he let Freshie chase her dreams to become a chef. She graduated from the CIA, for cryin’ out loud, and Mother’s blowing a fuse?”

Zecora looked at Zadi with confusion. “The CIA did you say? The spies are teaching cooking today?”

“No, Bibi – the Culinary Institute of America. It’s a famous chef’s university that just happens to have the same initials. But I’m proud of my little sister, and Mother seems to think that unless it’s for the greater glory of House Malindi nothing else matters!”

“Are you done, dear, with your speech?” Zecora asked. “Perhaps it’s to Aeu’ayra you should beseech.” Zecora went over to Zadi and hugged her granddaughter, saying, “Dear one, you should come with me. I’ve something I feel that you should see.”

“I would, but….” Zadi blushed. “I am not going out there with nothing but these bangles.”

Zecora gave Zadi an understanding smile, before adding, “If being natural vexes you so, dressed as a human you may go.”

A few minutes later, they were on the far side of the manor’s grounds. The place was magnificently kept, so well maintained she almost felt she was in Equestria rather than this desert hellhole. A small pond sat by a small series of stones and an apple tree. In the center of the ground was a weathered and worn, but clearly statuesque object. She knew what it was, and by extension, the rest of it. The weathered statue was the grave of Argent Lance, their great pony ancestor who, for reasons unknown, traveled from Equestria to take a zebra bride and settle away from his fellow ponies. The stones around his grave were those of the matriarchs of their family, with the most recent one being her great-grandmother, Zecora’s mother Zequadi ni’Kalena.

“This was my mother,” Zecora spoke, her words not rhyming, much to Zadi’s surprise, “and I hated her. She was the reason I left Zebrababwe to head to Equestria, did you know?”

“You’re…not rhyming. You’re always rhyming,” Zadi said.

“In this place are our foremothers. As they hold seniority to me, it would be they who rhyme,” Zecora explained. “It is the shaman’s way to let the senior rhyme and the junior speak prosaic. I know you are unaware of this, as well as many things in our family’s traditions and zebra culture. That is both my fault and that of your mother.”

“It’s not your fault, Bibi. You’ve always been there for me.”

“No. If I had done my duty as a grandmother, you would not be in the position you are today, dearest heart.”

Zadi, not knowing how to respond to that, kept quiet as her grandmother continued. “But to continue, it was my grandmother,” Zecora noted, pointing to a stone next to Zequadi’s, “who encouraged me to go seek out the ways of my ancestors and follow my dreams, just as you did, dear Zadi.”

“I didn’t know,” Zadi replied. “Mother never said anything about that.”

“She didn’t because my mother never told her,” Zecora replied. “Mother wanted me to give up the ways of the shaman – she said it was a waste of time and I needed to learn pony ways, since that was the future for us. But it was my grandmother, my own precious Bibi, who understood what I wanted: to understand why our ancestor of ancestors would leave his home for a new and strange life.

“For all this time, when I had my daughter, I always wondered why I was closer to my grandmother than my mother. And now I see you and I are closer than you and she, and the cycle plays out once more. Not all families are like this, but somehow it has become a sad tradition in our family, and I hope someday that it will be something that you can change, Zadi. But until that day comes, we run into the problem we have now.”

Zadi folded her forelegs like arms. “Which is?”

Zecora turned to her granddaughter. “Zaleva feels it is necessary to keep our line alive to continue our future, because that is what she feels is right. And yet you head to the human world to learn human ways, because that is what you feel is right. And do you know what, child? You are both right – and yet both so wrong.”

“How so?” Zadi was seeing an entirely different side of her grandmother, now. She’d always seen her as this rigid, unyielding matriarch. But in this light, she saw her grandmother as a rebellious, stubborn mare, fighting against fate to get what she felt she was due. Her grandmother wasn’t a bastion for the old ways; indeed, it was looking as though some of those old ways were because Zecora insisted on them.

“That is not for me to explain to you, dearest one. Instead, seek Aeu’ayra’s counsel at the Naon. Ask and see what she can give you. Our goddess is wise, and she will counsel you so.” Zecora looked at her mother and grandmother’s grave, and for a second, Zadi could swear her grandmother shed a tear for the lost past.

“So, uh, did you ever find out why Argent Lance decided he wanted a zebra mare? Lemme guess: ‘once you go zebra, you never go back’?”

Zecora laughed, a throaty, joyful sound. “Celestia herself told me thus and so,” the elder zebra said, returning to her rhyme, “She said there are things I shouldn’t know. It sounded private, as if she knew – but such answers are not for me or you.”

“Great. So we’ll never know why he came to our lands.”

“‘Our lands’, you say? Such words are strange – I thought that phrase you’d never arrange.”

“Okay, okay,” Zadi laughed in turn. “Figure of speech, okay?”

In response, Zecora smiled widely. “It doesn’t matter why he arrived – only that he loved and thrived. True love he found and happiness too; that love made a line right down to you.”

“Do…we have anything on him, Bibi? I think I’d like to do some reading on him. Maybe it’ll help me understand the rebels in our family…at least since a book hasn’t been written on the most recent one,” she said bending down to hug her grandmother.

“I’ll see what I can get in hoof; enough works were written to bust the roof. At the library downtown most of them are, but we’ve a few here, so you’ll not need to go far.”

“Thanks, Bibi,” Zadi said, reaching over to hug her grandmother again.

“You’re welcome, dear. Now while you’re here, let’s spend time with your grandfather, since he’s near.”

“Absolutely,” the younger mare agreed as both walked over to the newest grave in the family cemetery.

It was two days later when there was a knock on her door. She was buried in a book on Argent Lance – the third one she’d read in the past couple of days – when she absently said, “C’mon in.”

A male voice chuckled. “As always, my little filly, buried in a book. You make your old stallion proud, you know?”

At that voice, Zadi threw down her book and dived at the sound of the voice. “Dad! What are you doing here?”

“I’m a member of this family, aren’t I? In case you forgot, your mother and I are married.” Twilight Sky held his daughter close, hugging the young mare he hadn’t seen in years. “And how goes my lawfighting little filly?”

“Dad!” she gasped, only half-embarrassed that he still referred to her as a filly. “Seriously!”

Twilight pulled away from his daughter to give her a smile. “Your mother got word to me. She’s not happy with you, not that that’s anything new. But you have to remember that your mother’s only thinking of you when she gets to be a harridelle.”

“No kidding. Surprised you didn’t divorce her for what she did to you and Freshie.”

“And what would that be?” Twilight asked, arching a brow. When Zadi looked at him in confusion, he laughed. “Yeah, I think you’ve let your fight with your mother go a little too much to your head, kiddo. You have to remember that if it wasn’t for her connections, you wouldn’t have gotten that college scholarship. And she’s been very supportive of Freshie, believe it or not. Your mother’s just a traditionalist, you know that.”

“But she said you and she live apart!”

“We do – while I’m working on my latest project. I need the peace and quiet as a photographer, and since I took over my old boss’ business, well, taking nature shots of the countryside around Photo Finish’s old foalhood home has been very lucrative and revealing – no one knew she was from a small country town, considering her high-fashion persona. As for your mother, I’ll bet she didn’t tell you that she comes to see me every weekend, did she?” When Zadi turned her head down, he grinned. “You know, for a lawyer, you jump to conclusions rather quickly.”

“She sets it up that way!”

“She also does it to ensure you’re paying attention. I seem to recall a little filly who wouldn’t listen to her parents when she was younger.”

Zadi sighed; she hated it when her father was right. “So, again, why are you here?”

“For you, little filly. You’ll be going through the Naon in a few days, and if it’s anything like how your mother went through it when we were just dating, it’s going to be interesting. I can’t tell you what will happen – I don’t know myself – but from what I’m told, it changes you forever. And if you’re of House Malindi, or one of those even distantly related to those of this House, you will see Aeu’ayra in a way few ever have. Every mare eventually meets the zebra goddess, but as a pony stallion, I’ll have to say such a meeting is beyond me. But you are a zebra mare, Zadi, and so you have this opportunity that few do.”

“But Dad, I’m also a pony. I’m just as much your daughter as Mother’s.”

“And I’m not denying that, kiddo. But you’re the future heir of the House, and it falls on you. If Freshie had been older instead of you, her soft brown earth pony self would be wandering in there alongside your grandmother, since she’s as much a zebra as you are. But you’re the older one, Zadi, and so you’re the one who gets the chance. Your sister will eventually, but not like you will, not in this way.”

“I’d rather not be. Truthfully, I hate this place, Dad. If Aeu’ayra cares as much about the zebras as the alicorns do about Equestria, then why is this place a shithole?”

“Is it? Or are you just imagining things?”

“Dad, look at this place – it’s nothing but stucco and adobe, and desert!”

“Well, what about, say, Dodge Junction or Appaloosa? Decades after their founding, they’re still mostly log cabin towns in the badlands. Heck, the town your grandmother used to live in when she was younger – Ponyville – is a small city now and the older parts of the town are still wooden houses and the like.” He went over to the window and looked outside. “You know what I see when I look at this place? I see a place of people unconcerned about how they live and more concerned about how life is. They live, just like you and me – just in a different way. Would you call a Minosan templehome a craphole because minotaurs prefer to live in drafty marble constructs? Or what about those staid concrete boxes polar bears call home in Polara?

“Sweetheart, I know what you do for a living, and it’s an admirable job. But I think in all this time amongst humans, you’ve forgotten that you’re not one of them. I’ve met a few humans in my time and while they’re for the most part a great species, they do have some preconceptions, and one of those is how backwards our world is. Sure, we don’t have those whiz-bang technological marvels that they do, but we’re not some caveponies just learning how to make fire, either. And you should know that.

“Look, when this is all over – as well as your business that brought you back to Alter-Earth to begin with – I want you to come home for a couple of weeks and spend time with us, okay? Recharge those batteries, get back to being you – and I mean you, Zadi, not the mare anypony or anyhuman expects you to be.”

“Dad, I—”

“No ‘buts’, kiddo. Just promise me. Besides, you promised to let Freshie bake you a cake when you got back, right? Here’s your chance.”

Zadi nodded. “Sure. I promise.”

“Then you can tell me about your latest boyfriend and when I should be expecting grandfoals. By the way, your mother went out and got a genderstone for you.”

“DAD!” Zadi gasped, blushing furiously.

Finally, a week had passed and Zadi, on all fours, walked into the Naon with her grandmother. To her relief, she was wearing a kanga, a traditional wrapping that covered most of her body and made it a little easier to deal with that. Around her were hundreds of other zebras, almost all grandmothers and granddaughters. Zecora explained that for those whose grandmothers had already passed, a trusted elder of the family was allowed to serve instead; for those elderly without foals or grandfoals, they chaperoned orphans, grateful for the chance to participate in the Naon.

As for the Naon itself…the words could not describe. In the center of the town was a huge pit; when the airplane had landed, Zadi had seen only the edge of the pit and thought it to be a huge, disgusting garbage dump. No, what it turned out to be was a massive pathway leading to a citadel at the bottom of the pit. The citadel itself was made of the purest marble available, and at points inlaid with intricate designs of goldleaf and turquoise. There were four massive entrances to the inside of the Naon, all four normally sealed by great gates of solid gold but now all open to the multitudes coming in.

This was amazing. Breathtaking. Like nothing she’d ever seen before and like nothing she’d ever expected in this town. She’d seen pictures of the temple at the center of Mecca, and the Vatican in the center of Rome. Both were incredible locations surrounded by comparative squalor and it made her think about her father’s words, as well as an old saying: never look a gift horse in the mouth. She understood the saying: the pony giving the gift might be saying something you might misinterpret or not understand, but the general saying made sense. And right now, she realized she’d been staring at Quaggaton’s mouth and completely misunderstanding the truth of what was here.

The inside was incredible. The walls glowed with a warm, inviting light, and in the center of it all, a giant sphere of energy, as if the sun had been brought down into the central dais. The room echoed with the soft singing of hundreds of zebra mares and fillies, and to Zadi’s surprise, a few of mixed ancestry that looked like ponies, probably distant relatives of hers. Moving in swirling patterns, the lines from the four doors moved slowly and solemnly into the energy ball, not coming out.

And in the center of it all was the chanting. Like a choir singing towards infinity the multitude of voices sang:

“O baada ya kama sisi wapanda
O mwendo nyota
Mwite jina lake, jina lake, jina lake….

Kwanza sisi kushikilia mkono wako
kama sisi kuweka kimya kama alfajiri

Maneno wanaambiwa macho yako
sisi kukaa kimya kama alfajiri

Aeu’ayra, Aeu’ayra
Aeu’ayra, Aeu’ayra….”

As she struggled with the complex Swahili chanting, Zadi looked at her grandmother. “Are you sure we’ll be okay going in?”

Never taking her eyes off the sphere, Zecora stopped singing long enough to answer, “We will be fine, Zadi dear. I’d not let you be harmed, never fear.” And with that, both stepped into the sphere.

Zadi felt a sensation not unlike being teleported. Was she teleported? She felt as if she were floating in a sea of light. In fact, had she not read a book just a few weeks back with the same poetic description, she would have laughed the whole thing off as some kind of magically induced illusion. But currently, there was no ground, no sky, no sense of orientation whatsoever. She could be floating right side up, or upside down for all she knew.

Well, whenever you feel comfortable enough, you’re more than welcome to take up the task at hand, Zadi ni’Zecora. The voice in her mind was august and serene, calm and inviting.

“Are you Sacred Aeu’ayra?” Zadi spoke to the emptiness around her.

I am called that, yes, though you seem to be less than impressed with me. Perhaps it is your pony blood and your preference for the pony goddesses?

“But aren’t we ponies as well? My ancestor was able to have foals with a zebra. You can’t do that sort of thing unless genetics allows you to.”

Science? Isn’t that anathemic from what your beliefs and traditions allow, young mare?

“I wouldn’t know,” Zadi answered. “I am sorry, Divinity, but I have no Zebrabawean beliefs or traditions. I was raised as a pony in Equestria. I know nothing about this land, and until a few days ago, I thought it to be backwards and primitive.”

And what do you think now?

“Now? I find that I was taking out a lot of my views of my homeland on my mother, who expects me to be the perfect zebra mare when I was never raised as such, or that my own life wasn’t taken into account. Yes, there are things here that bother me, but I’m sure a lot of things that I’ve done in the past few days have bothered the locals just as much. It’s a culture clash, the result of living in a society much different from this.”

And you are an heir to your family? And you insist on this thought?

“Insist on what thought? That I was wrong? Yes. That my mother could have spent more time teaching me about my past and less time berating me about not knowing that? Yes. Maybe if she had, I could have spent more time with a grandfather I never really knew, or with a grandmother who tried to play peacemaker. Or defending my father and sister from attacks that were never really there.”

Out of nowhere, hoofsteps came from behind her, sharp raps as if a quadruped was walking on a marble floor. Zadi turned to see a giant zebra walking towards her, her bangles and bracelets brighter than any star in the sky and her mane and tail billowing like smoke. Her eyes were a radiant cyan and there was a smile on her face.

“Do you truly hate your mother that much?” Aeu’ayra, goddess of the zebras, asked Zadi.

“I don’t know what to think. I respect my mother…well, perhaps respect isn’t the proper word. I acknowledge her role in my life, Sacred One. But I’m conflicted as to how I feel about her. I was told I should seek your counsel, Wise Aeu’ayra.”

“I cannot give that to you, Zadi ni’Zecora. What I offer you instead, is revelation.” Aeu’ayra smiled as she calmly walked around the younger mare. “I have a friend who is estranged from her daughter. They are, in many ways, cut from the same cloth, yet because they were raised in vastly different circumstances, they hate each other rather than accepting each other for who they are. As a result, the older mare has missed out on the younger’s life, and the younger mostly refuses to have anything to do with her pony family’s life.” As Aeu’ayra walked around behind Zadi, she added, “And if you ask me, I feel it’s a painful tragedy for any family to experience.”

Wait…that story sounds familiar, Zadi thought before asking, “We’re not discussing the Lost Foal, are we?”

“Indeed we are,” Aeu’ayra’s voice replied, but now sounded much different. And as she walked into view again, she was no longer Aeu’ayra, but instead a midnight-blue alicorn with stars in her mane and a soft, friendly smile.

“Your highness? You’re Aeu’ayra?” Zadi asked Princess Luna.

“I told you, I cannot counsel you, but instead will give you revelation,” Luna replied. “As to who I am, well… Aeu’ayra is somewhat complex. When the five tribes dispersed, Celestia, being very young at the time pretended to be a zebra goddess in order to watch over the fifth tribe. The tribe of mules has never cared much for politics or theocracy, and you know quite well the history of the main three pony tribes, so I won’t mention that.”

“Fifth tribe? Are you saying zebras are nothing more than another tribe of ponies?”

Luna smiled. “You said it yourself: genetics allowed Argent Lance to start a family with his zebra bride. That could only mean that zebras are what I said they were. Of course, cultural differences would never really let zebras think that, but it’s true: this is the place where my mother originated from so long ago. I suppose you could say the Naon is her foal cradle.”

Zadi stared at the middle goddess-princess as if she were mad.

“However, that’s neither here nor there. You asked if I was Aeu’ayra, and the fact is, no…because she never existed. Celestia held the title, if you will, for centuries, through the good…and the bad,” Luna said, cryptically, though it was clear what she referred to. “When I returned, I took over the mantle to give my sister some peace of mind. I suppose when she’s old enough for the position, Cadance can assume it.”

“So nothing is real?” Zadi asked. “Everything my grandmother believes in is for nothing? Isn’t she a friend of yours?”

“Zecora is,” Luna agreed. “And none of it is nothing. As I mentioned, the zebras had no desire to live with the four other pony tribes and so they created their own path. Zebras are alchemists – a magic far different from those of the three tribes, and certainly different from the mules, who have none. And though Canterlot is the center of our universe, remember that during the interregnum and Discordant eras it was Quaggaton that was the shining pinnacle of civilization. The zebras did that and did that without pony aid. Your people have much to be proud of.”

“And yet, my House was started by a pony – I was destined to be part pony long before my mother met my father.”

Luna smiled. “I take it you wish to know why Argent Lance left Equestria?”

“Yes, your highness,” Zadi said.

Luna nodded. “I wish I could answer that for you. My sister knew him and said he was a stallion of virtue and care and a fine captain of the guard. I know nothing else save that one day he left his post and traveled eastward to Quaggaton. Celestia told me she was saddened by his departure, but that it was for the good of the realm. I suspect there is more to the story, but my sister will tell it when she is ready. As it is, I have revealed something to you that could shake the foundations of zebra culture, though one could say that it’s already obvious. What do you intend to do with the information?”

Zadi thought about it for a second before saying, “Nothing, your highness.”

A puzzled look came over Luna’s face. “Nothing?”

“You have revealed something to me, Sacred Aeu’ayra,” Zadi said with a curtsey, “and it has given me something to think about. The whole week here in Quaggaton has given me a new perspective on my life and my goddess. I would be remiss if I revealed something that would fundamentally hurt all of zebrakind.”

The night alicorn nodded regally. “Then I shall let you go for the moment. Best of luck on your decision.”

Zadi opened her eyes, finding herself on the beach. It was pristine and beautiful and reminded her of the time she and Alex took a vacation to Bermuda that one summer. So this is the real Zebrababwe, she thought to herself, a smile tugging at her face. What I saw earlier was just a façade based on my own prejudices.

“It’s good to see you smile, my child,” Zecora said as she stood over her prone granddaughter. “It means you are happy and no longer riled.”

She smiled, sitting up in a human manner. “I suppose not.”

“Did Aeu’ayra reveal something to you that was intrinsically and elementally true?”

Zadi reached over and hugged her grandmother. “Maybe,” she said, with a smile.

Watching from a distance, Zaleva leaned into her husband. “It seems our dear Zadi is growing, love.”

Twilight nodded, then turned to kiss his wife. “I guess that means we need to start thinking about a colt this time, huh?”

The zebra mare looked at her husband coquettishly. “What brought that on?”

“Loving you, of course,” he said with a loving grin.

It was a week later when Zadi landed in I’duploskiye, the capital of Polara. As senior officers of the Polaran military approached, Zadi could see the anger and rage in the looks of the polar bears’ eyes. Well, time to get this over with, she thought.

The lead bear saluted. “Dobroye utro - I am General Morozkogot, Polaran Air Forces. And you are?”

Zadi grinned, looking at the bear with a roguish gleam. “The lady who’s here to shut down your little war, General. Now take me to your leaders, pronto, got it?”

“You play a dangerous game, zebra,” he warned. “My government will not take a response lightly from a mere international observer.”

“Perhaps not,” she snarled in kind, “but I play dangerous games because I am dangerous, fuzzbucket.” Thrusting a forehoof right at his chest and pointing repeatedly, she said, “Take me to your Premier now.”

The bear grumbled and walked off; as he did she grinned to herself; thankfully both her mother and her grandmother had explained the “proper” way of dealing with polar bears. They despised weakness, so any negotiations with them had to be from a position of strength at all times, even if she couldn’t credibly back up her threat.

Well, that’s just their problem, she said with a grin. And, well, Bibi did leave me a few tricks up my sleeve…. Now that she’d been through the Naon, Zecora had begun Zadi’s training in the alchemical arts – and the first thing she’d learned was the spell to make distraction grenades, since they’d be perfect for this job of hers.

Well…being Zebrababwean had to have some advantages, right?

Love, Hope and Acceptance

“Greg,” the girl asked, “are you sure you want to do this?”

Greg MacChraig bent on one knee, holding a ring out to the girl he’d been seeing for four years now. It wasn’t an answer he’d been expecting. “Uh, usually when a guy proposes to a girl, it’s either a yes or a no answer.”

“Would you prefer a ‘no’?” the redhead said, a smile coming onto her lips.

He sighed. “Faust….”

The look in her light-blue eyes was one of sorrow. “I would say yes. I want to say yes, Greg. But when the day is done, I wonder if you’ll still want to put that ring on my finger.”

“Of course! I wouldn’t be here on a winter day in Cleveland if I didn’t want to!” he said. “We’ve been together since our sophomore year in college, and now after I got my masters in Fine Art and finished my internship at MacGarrity’s, I want to make our life permanent.”

“Life is never permanent,” she said softly. “There are few things that are. Trust me, I know this.”

He looked at her oddly. “Is this some of that hippy commune stuff you grew up with? Yeah, I know your parents died and you were raised by the rest of those hippies in Copenhagen—”

“Christiania,” she said. “It’s technically a separate country though under the Danish Crown, and….”

He laughed. “And there you go again, hon. Little hippie girl with an American father of French descent and a German mother – you know, you never told me why they named you ‘fist’ in German.”

“Look, Greg, that’s not important right now—” she began.

“But it is, Faust. It is. Look, I want to know everything about you – what your parents were like, what your life was like in Hippieville, why you decided to come to the US – and especially why you decided to come to a nowhere place like Cleveland. Was your dad from here originally?”

“Look, I….” Tears welled in her eyes and she looked suddenly – and there was no other way for Greg to describe it – ageless. “I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to be alone anymore,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself for comfort.

“What would make you think you’d ever lose me?” Greg put the ring away; somehow he’d picked the worst possible time to propose, even if he didn’t know it. “Hon, I….”

She reached over and caressed his face, looking into his green eyes. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I love you and I would marry you in a heartbeat, but…I don’t know if you’ll still love me if I show you the truth.”

“The truth?”

She looked at him, and there was emptiness in her eyes. “I’m…I’m not who you think I am.”

He looked at her oddly. “Okay, is this one of these things where you’re really some leftover KGB spy kid from the Soviet days? I mean, yeah, they keep popping up from time to time, but this is 2037, hon, and what your parents did for a living forty years ago wa—”

She placed a delicate, perfect finger on his lips. “Let’s go back to your apartment,” she said. “For everything you’ve ever been to me, Greg, I owe you the truth.”

A few minutes later, they were at his place. It occurred to him that during their four years together, they’d always been at his place – never hers. She supposedly lived on the far side of town, but he’d never visited her home before. The moment he closed the doors, she started removing her clothing.

“Uh, hon, not that I mind seeing you naked, but….” He paused when he saw a tattoo he didn’t know she had before; matching ones, in fact, and how he’d somehow manage to miss them before in all this time was beyond him. The twin tattoos were of a mirrored ink quill and bottle, and an incredible job, too: the inker must have been world-class in his skill when he put them on her. “When did you get those done?”

“Not what you think,” she said, turning to face him. “They’re not tattoos. They’re cutie marks.”

“Cutie mar…huh?” He was completely baffled now. “Wait…aren’t cutie marks those tattoo-like things that ponies have on their butts?”

“No matter what happens,” she said, approaching him and kissing him gently, “I love you, Greg, and I want you to know that.”

And then with a flash, she changed.

There was a flare of light like the sun exploded in the room, and when it faded, Greg suddenly faced the largest horse he’d seen in his life, one that barely fit in the room. It took him a second to realize it wasn’t a horse, it was a unicorn – those ones from myth, not the similar ponies of the same name. And then he noticed the wings, alongside it. Wait…horn and wings?

But the unicorn – pegasus? Winged unicorn? Horned pegasus? – had deep red hair, just like his true love. And on the flanks of that purest white coat were the same tattoos that he’d seen on her just a second ago. And the unicorn’s blue eyes, looking at him with love and worry.

“This is who I really am, love,” the unicorn spoke.

Greg did the only logical thing: he fainted. He would have hit the ground, had it not been for an aura of pure white enveloping him and carting him over to the bedroom.

Well, that went well, she mused as she placed him on the bed and changed back. She’d made this decision, she noted, and now there was no turning back. Picking up her clothing off the ground and setting them on a chair in the bedroom, she sat down next to him, waiting for him to wake up.

Greg came to groggily twenty minutes later. “Oh, hell,” he muttered to himself, wiping his face in an attempt to wake himself up, “I just had the weirdest dream.”

“It wasn’t a dream,” his girlfriend said. He turned to look at her, and….

…she was glowing. She sat on the edge of his bed, dressed in a gown of what seemed to be the purest white, lined with interwoven threads of gold, silver and copper. On her head she had a tiara and it seemed to complete a halo effect on her head. “Greg, I’m sorry I have to break it to you like this,” she said, “but if you really love me, you’ll understand.”

“Oh my God….” he trailed off. “You’re an angel? Oh, crap – I’ve been having sex with a literal angel. I am so going to hell. Ninth Circle, full Dante all the way. Fuck – I’m not even Catholic and I know about that shit. Man, Pastor Johnstone told me in Sunday School that I was damned if I had sex before marriage, but…crap, I didn’t….”

She laughed slightly. “I’m not an angel – or a demon or succubus or anything like that,” she promised. “What I am is an alicorn…a pony. A special kind of pony.”

He looked at her as if she was crazy. “You’re a pony? But…how…why…when….” He buried his head in his hands. “I don’t get it. I don’t.”

“Do you still…love me?” she asked, and there was a tone of worry in her voice. He didn’t understand much of what was going on, but his girlfriend, sad and troubled? That he knew how to deal with.

“Just as much as the day we met,” he said. “And you still owe me for that coffee you spilled on my pants,” he added, an old joke between them as they met forward to kiss. There was something far more powerful and tingling he could feel in her lips as they met. Kissing her was not like any girl he’d ever dated before, but now he knew it was more than just being Ms. Right.

“Are you ready to hear my tale?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “This is going to be a hell of a story, right?”

“Well,” she said, hopping next to him on the bed, “you can honestly say you have a girlfriend – or marefriend, like I used to say so long ago – like no other.”

“Well, for starters, what’s your real name?” he asked.

“It’s Faust, just Faust. My last name, A’Licorne, is really just what I am; I just chose it for a play on words with a coincidental French surname. I was born…well, let’s just say that I can’t explain how I was born and I don’t have parents, not as people understand them – you could say reality itself is my mother and father. What I am is the Avatar of Creation, though some back on Alter-Earth considered me a goddess.”

“Are you?”

She shook her head. “I’m an avatar, an embodiment of a power. Someone or something created me, and that means there’s something superior to me – my power has to come from somewhere. As for my age, well, you know how the saying is that it’s impolite to ask a woman her age? Mainly in my case it’s because you have to count in geologic eras to get close.”

“Heh, and I thought you were turning 27 next month.”

“We can still celebrate my birthday, if you’re up to it.”

“Not enough candles on the planet, I’m guessing.” For that remark, he earned a sock on the arm and a pout from her beautiful face. “What’d I say?”

“Just because I’m ancient doesn’t mean I’m old, sheesh!” But she flashed him a smile to take the sting out of it. “As to why I’m here, it’s because I am exiled from my world and I can never return. I am a queen without her crown and I am a mother without her daughters.”

“Wait…. Queen? Mother – you have girls?”

“Fillies…well, they’re both mares now and the joy of my life, though I haven’t seen them for thousands of years.” She snapped her fingers and in a flash of light, his iPad appeared in her hand. She went to the Cleveland Plain Dealer and brought up their headline page; on the front page of the website was EQUESTRIA ROYALTY TO VISIT CLEVELAND TOMORROW with the second title being Princesses Celestia and Luna to Dedicate New Wing of Universities Hospital for Non-Human Medical Services. In the main picture was a white alicorn similar to what he’d seen a second ago, and a smaller dark-blue one.

“And they’re the same age as you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, because I gave birth the moment I was created, dummy. Of course not. Celestia’s only four thousand or so years old, and Luna, if I recall correctly, is a shade over 3500.”

He head suddenly became very, very dizzy at that thought. “Wow, and I thought because you’re supposed to be a year older than me that I was into older women.” He then looked at her and asked, “And a queen, you mentioned?”

“I was a queen, past tense. My realm, the Dominion of Equus, no longer exists, and hasn’t existed for at least three thousand years. When I left, Celestia was barely the equivalent of a teenager and raising her sister, since I could not do it. My realm split into five different nations, and it’s only been as recently as twenty-seven years ago that the final portion of my old domain, the part now known as the Crystal Empire, was folded back into what is modern-day Equestria. But by then, most ponies had forgotten me and it’s only been in recent times that recollections of the past have been unearthed by pony historians.”

“What happened?” he asked.

“Prophecy,” she replied. “I know…I’ve said I’m not one for prophecy in the past, and to be honest, I still don’t buy it as an excuse. But I call it that, because…well, I suppose in a manner of speaking I was warned about it. The Rules. Even I, for all my power, am bound by them, and when they came a knockin’ I got tossed out in my butt.”

Greg turned his head slightly. “Well, I’ve always thought it was a cute butt.”

“You would,” she said, teasing. “But getting tossed out cost me the most important thing in my life: my foals. I miss my daughters every day of my life and I fear I’ll never see them again.” Her voice sounded empty, devoid of life at that point and Greg could see that she clearly ached from their absence. He could understand that; last year one of his coworker’s kids was kidnapped by her ex-husband; while the child was safely returned four days later, the look on that woman’s eyes was the same anguish he saw in Faust’s.

“But in the meantime,” she said, forcing herself to continue, “I have lived here for thousands of years, watching over mankind and staying mostly in the shadows out of respect for powers far greater than I. Are you familiar with that song ‘Sympathy for the Devil’ by the Rolling Stones?”

He nodded. “Oh, hell yeah – it’s a classic. How could anyone not be?”

Faust smiled. “What if I told you that the song’s about me and not the Devil, per se?” He looked at her oddly and she laughed. “Jagger was a cad back then, and we’d gotten drunk and stoned in his flat in London that day and I got stupid and told him about my life. He was completely floored and wrote the whole thing down. Meanwhile, Keith was higher than I could ever fly and probably didn’t remember a thing.”

“Then why isn’t the song 'Sympathy for Faust'?”

“Well, after one particular night of tantric se—” She blushed furiously; Greg didn’t need to know about that part of her life. “Anyway, a few nights later we ran into Marianne Faithful and she gave him a copy of Baudelaire’s book The Master and Margarita. He promptly took cues from the book and the rest is history. As for my history with him, we split a couple of years later when I caught him flirting with Bianca, and then I changed identities and moved to Argentina for a couple of years.” She smiled fondly as she added, “I ran into him a decade ago, but he didn’t recognize me. All for the best, I guess.”

“Uh, you don’t have to tell me, but who else were….”

She recited from memory: “Hecate. Joan of Arc. Betsy Ross. Amelia Earhart. Mary MacGregor. Mostly I’ve led boring, pedestrian lives, but sometimes I got thrust into the limelight. I’d rather not, to be honest. I’ve had to adjust to being just human in appearance most of the time and that’s tough in and of itself at times, not to mention the identity I’m using at the time. But every time I do, I’m reminded that I have to live in lies, and not of my choice. It was something I’d never have stood for when I was a queen, and then I recall the duties, responsibility and honor I had…and of those beautiful little fillies who were my world….” Faust started to break down into sobs, and Greg immediately pulled her into an embrace. Whoever she was, whatever she was, she was still someone hurting and someone he loved.

The two sat there for the longest time, just holding each other. Finally, she said, “You know what? We skipped lunch in all this. What do you want to do about dinner?”

“Um, what about Chinese?” he said. She had a soft spot for the stuff, and he couldn’t count the number of nights when she was feeling down that he’d taken her to their favorite restaurant, the Jade Palace. “We can go to Jade’s, if you want.”

“Chinese sounds wonderful. I’ll cook.”

“Sure that’d be grea….” His words trailed off as he realized what she just said. “I…when did you learn to cook? You can’t cook anything!”

She blushed. “Well…yeah, that’s true. But I can just conjure up food.” She grinned as she added, “Next time Kuzu’s in town, ask her about the restaurant in China that we owned in the 13th century. She’d never let me cook, lest I irritate some imperial official passing through.”

His eyes went wide. “Wait…Kuzu’s an immortal pony, too? How many of you are there?”

Faust shook her head. “No, Kuzunoha’s a kyūbi, the fox equivalent to the alicorn. But she’s been here slightly longer than me and it doesn’t change the fact that she’s just a normal person otherwise. As for how many other immortals, I don’t know. Some are much better at hiding than others, both the good…and the bad.”

“The bad?”

“I….” She paused. “I’d rather not talk about that right now.” A thought suddenly came to mind and she said, “Do you have to be at work for the next couple of days?”

“No, I can do my work from remote,” he commented. “Why do y—”

“—ou ask?” he inquired as the flash finished. He found himself laying on a couch now, in a tastefully decorated home far different – and opulent – than his apartment.

“Bienvenue à Nouméa!” Faust said, sitting next to him in a light shirt and capri pants.

“Noumea?”

“Capital of New Caledonia, a French overseas department – basically it’s to France what Honolulu is to the US.”

He got off the couch, looking around. The couch looked expensive. Everything looked expensive – the kind of expensive he couldn’t afford even on a year of his salary. “I thought you lived on the other side of town.”

“Not really – I have an apartment on the other side of town, just in case you ever came over. But it’s not home.” She gestured out with her arms, a smile on her face. “Welcome to my real home.”

“Home” turned out to be a sizable manse in the most expensive part of the city. A view of the oceans and pristine beaches could be seen from the living room balcony, and the main part of the town was just to the right. He walked out there in a sweater and jeans, feeling very much out of place all of a sudden. But it was beautiful.

She walked out there shortly after, leaning on the rail. “Kuzu and Emmé – yes, she’s immortal, too – keep telling me that having just one real home is dangerous, but…there’s much to be said about just coming and relaxing whenever. Plus, they borrow the place whenever they want to go on vacation, so they don’t have much room to complain,” she said with a soft smile.

He started sweating; the climate was clearly tropical, and if he remembered anything about world geography, New Caledonia was in the southern hemisphere, which meant it was summer here. “I…uh….”

“There’s some clothes for you in the closet in the bedroom. Down the hall, first door on the right. Afterwards, then we can see about getting some food.” He hesitated and she kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t worry, I’ll still be here.”

As he walked down the hall, the smile fell from her face. Don’t be stupid, she told herself. He’ll leave the first chance you get. They all do. Who can deal with an immortal horse for a girlfriend, after all? She sighed, fighting to keep the tears away. This time would go just as badly as the others, and why shouldn’t it? For all her power, for all her ageless life on this Earth, she was probably damned for some hubris-filled stunt she’d committed on the other and to this day she had still to find out why. The only things she’d ever discovered in the thousands of years she’d lived here on Human-Earth was that loneliness for an eternal sucked hard, and that true love – that very intangible, powerful emotion every being wished for – was far too rare for humans…and almost impossible for her.

If asked, she’d readily admit that she’d had lovers a plenty over the millennia; and each relationship she handled differently, from the chaste to the…not so chaste. But although her life was filled with lovers, there was none that she truly loved, because it always ended the same: whether a Spanish conquistador, a WWI doughboy or a hippie at Altamont, once they found out who she was, what she was, they ran away and either they went to lengths to forget her – in some cases, through death – or went mad from the revelation. The Rules at work, or just her own cursed luck?

She thought things had changed a quarter-century ago when the Lost Foal arrived on this world. Faust had known the magic storm that had hit that tiny little town back in 2012 was special, but she never imagined that it would bring one of her kind here. Out of respect for the courage of the foal’s adopted parents, Faust only watched from afar, breaking her own heart as she watched the first of her kind that she’d seen in millennia work her way through a strange world. And when Celestia’s ponies finally found the way to break through the dimensional veil and establish relations with the nations of this world, Faust dared to hope that her curse had been lifted.

But the last ten years had only served to drive the knife in further. She’d found that the Nightmare she’d fought so long ago survived and had consumed little Luna, forcing Celestia to exile her sister for a thousand years until she’d been freed by Celestia’s protégé. She’d discovered that her dearest friend, Discord, had somehow become the mortal enemy of her daughters and now lay imprisoned in stone with his soul chained in the Dreamlands. But it had been the numerous times of attempting to contact them directly that had hurt the most: each time she tried, the curse hit her hard, sending her spinning and placing her in a random location. The first time, she’d been lucky and found herself transported across the planet to Beijing, but not learning her lesson, she tried again a second time…and found herself sent into the heart of Mt. Pinatubo in the Philippines. That had been agony managing to escape and she spent days recovering, most of it emotional pain rather than physical as she realized that her daughters were still lost to her.

Faust went over to an antique writing desk, opening a drawer and pulling out a small jeweled case. Opening it, she looked at the only real treasure she owned, the one priceless thing amongst the antiques, relics and objects of incalculable value. In the case, sitting on a bed of silk, were two locks of hair from two manes, one as pink as the first rays of dawn, the other the baby blue of the skies just as dusk heralded. They were all that was left to her and the only thing that mattered to her.

Until now.

“How do I look?” he asked. T-shirt, jeans, flip-flops – he looked good in them; not quite muscular, but someone who cared enough about his appearance to keep in shape.

“As beautiful as always,” she replied, wiping obvious tears from her eyes.

“Faust, have you…?” She nodded silently, placing the case back in the desk and sealed it with a spell. She then changed back into her true form, looking at him with fearful eyes.

“Greg, this is me. I know what you see on a regular basis, and I’ve gotten so used to it that sometimes being in my real form feels weird and unusual, but at the end of the day…this is me.” She lay down so she could look at him, eye to eye as she continued. “If you want to leave, if you don’t ever want to see me again, I’ll understand.” He didn’t say anything, and she continued. “I…I don’t think you understand how much this frightens me just to say this. I’ve lived for countless years, as a queen, and done things that you can’t even dream of. But I’ve lost so mu—” She was suddenly interrupted as he leaned forward and kissed her. While in her true form. The two remained that way for several minutes.

“Sorry,” he said, pulling away from her. “Whenever you get nervous, you start just downing yourself, you know that?” he said. He reached over to her and caressed her face; in turn, on instinct she nuzzled his hand, sighing in contentment. She immediately changed back into her human form, and the two kissed more passionately. All thoughts of food were forgotten as the two decided to head to the bedroom.

“And wow….Lauren Faust. I mean, she’s on the Top Ten list of creators any artist worth their weight in ink wants to meet!” Greg said, stunned as the pair enjoyed a French-style lunch in downtown Noumea. “And you met her?”

Faust shrugged. “I didn’t know who she was; I wasn’t a fan of animation until I met you. And you have to remember this was back in 2010 – you weren’t even born then. We just happened to run into each other while having coffee in the same Starbucks in Manhattan at the time. I was living with an Irish identity at the time, and she just happened to notice that we looked exactly alike. We chatted, she told me about this project that a toy company wanted her to work on but she’d already committed to some superhero project instead. We said our goodbyes after that and that was the last I saw of her. I certainly didn’t know she was one of the most famous animators in the country.”

“I....” Greg paused. “Well, next thing I know I’m going to be blaming you for not getting me an autograph from Charles Schultz.”

She leaned back in her chair, pointing at her hair. “Uh, little red-haired girl?” When he looked at her as if she’d just broken his brain, she smiled. “No, not really – stop looking at me like that. I am a fan of Peanuts. The stories always make me laugh.”

He shook his head. “You’ve seen so many things, and yet it’s just a comic strip that makes you smile.”

She reached over and caressed his face. “Sometimes it’s just the simple things that ground me before I become some sort of mad goddess or whatever. Listening to my favorite music. Watching old romance films from the 1940s. Falling asleep in your arms.”

“So beautiful and so powerful and yet you love me,” he said, taking her hands in his and kissing them.

“All because of that,” she said, love in her eyes.

“So then, shou—” but she placed a finger on his lips again.

“Not the right time,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean I’m ever going away.”

Greg woke up in the middle of the night. She’d placed a spell on him which switched his circadian cycle so that it would match hers for the few days they were here. He’d sent some emails at work telling them that he was feeling under the weather and was going to work from home for the next few; his supervisor was infamous for skipping out whenever he got the chance, so no one was going to begrudge Greg a couple of faked sick days. Besides, even if they didn’t let him, what were they going to do? He was here, in paradise, with his girl, who was paradise in the flesh.

Letting her sleep, he got up to go get something to drink from the fridge. He knew what she was now, and…strangely enough, he didn’t care. Yeah, he knew that there were some folks getting in romantic entanglements with ponies, but he didn’t consider himself one. Faust…she was more than human, more than pony, more than…. He grinned. I really don’t know what she is, other than mine, and that’s more than enough for me.

He continued to think that until he felt something strong grab him in rough hands and throw him against the wall. He crashed against the china cabinet, shattering a set of dinnerware Faust had told him she’d received as a gift from Napoleon in the 19th century. The wind was knocked out of him and he barely had time to recover before a huge man dressed in a pure gray suit pulled him off the ground, staring at him with lifeless gray eyes. He looked like the average overly tall man, save for the iron gray hair and the utterly gray motif he was sporting.

“This is your only chance: tell me where it is and I’ll let you die painlessly,” the man whispered in a raspy, angry voice. “If not, you will wish you had.”

“What are y—” Greg began before the man slammed him against the wall. He felt something break, and his first instinct was to take a swing at the man’s face. The punch connected, and while Greg wasn’t some super street fighter or anything of the sort, the man should have felt it. But instead, Greg felt the bones in his hand crunch as it connected with the man’s head, which didn’t even flinch. Greg screamed in agony as he pulled his mangled hand back.

“Good. Feisty. Now I’m going to kill you and leave your entrails hanging on the walls as a reminder to all who defy me,” he said, pulling his hand back. Greg saw the cock of the fist as angry purple magic began to surround it. He didn’t have time to ponder as to why another man standing there had magic; he only knew that blow was going to kill him.

“YOU DARE?” An explosion of angry red power lashed out and ripped the man away from Greg, literally pulling him through the wall, sending masonry flying. “YOU DARE HARM WHAT IS MINE?” Greg stood up and looked through the hole that had just been an intact wall a few seconds ago. And what he saw made his jaw drop.

Standing there, burning with red fire and eyes blazing like twin stars, Faust stood in her true form, her magic wrapped around the man’s throat – choking him. Her tones low and dangerous, she snarled, “You are a fool, Fear Liath More. I would think that the legendary Gray Man of Ireland would have more sense than to break into my dominion.”

Trying to break free of her spell, the Gray Man rasped, “You are an abomination on this Earth, Queen of Beasts. Because in the end you are nothing more than a gifted horse. And when I seize my rightful power, I will break you to the harness and you will be my steed.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she said, pulling the mystic noose on him closer.

“What, you think I would rut with you like your current toy?” The Gray Man barked out a humorless, guttural laugh. “I prefer my bedmates human – truly human, not some stupid animal pretending to be so. Is that why you do what you do, Queen of Horses? Are you like the Bakeneko, so desperate to become human that you would whore yourself out to any man who feels the need to stick his wick where he desires?” He grinned. “Now give me the object or else I will teach you a brutal lesson, Queen of Pets.”

“You do not deserve to live, Gray Man,” she snarled. “You abuse people, think them your playthings. You care not for life, sapient or other. You do not deserve to live in this or any other world. And I will not let my home – either my adopted one or my true one – suffer your presence any longer.”

“What, planning to exile me to that fantasy land you call your homeworld? I will burn it to cinders.”

“No. Your life is now forfeit.” And with a twist of magic, she impaled him with her horn. The Gray Man screamed an inhuman screech of pain before his body burned with ruby fire and turned into sickly-smelling ashes.

Greg looked at his beloved with fright, and a true thought entered his mind: this is who she really is.

Faust scooped him up in a softer rosy glow and in a second he could feel his wounds disappear, could feel her as she nuzzled him, whispering, “I’m so sorry, Greg. I’m so sorry you had to see that. I love you. And I’m sorry.”

Faust looked into his eyes and saw the naked fear in them. Her heart wrenched: she’d dared to let her heart open to someone and once again, it was dashed.

In the end, they always see me as I am, she mused sadly. And that hurts nearly as much as losing my daughters.

With a touch of her magic, she sent him back to his apartment in Cleveland. She didn’t bother to go explain; she knew in that moment that he was lost to her forever. She fell to the ground and by the time she hit it, her human body heaved with tears of loss and sorrow. Once again the powerful queen lay impotent and spent, once again her wounds self-inflicted.

It had been a month since he’d last seen her, and Greg felt empty. Since that day, he’d tried to get some semblance of life back, but he couldn’t, not anymore. He was a man who now knew monsters roamed the Earth, and had done so long before the Alien Girl had arrived on this world. Faust said she’d lived here for thousands of years – how many monsters had come at the same time as her? How many before? And…what about the ones that had always been here to begin with?

He couldn’t answer that. In that way lay madness, and he’d already faced that. But now he was safe from the monsters, he knew that. And he knew he’d be a poorer man for that safety.

Fumbling with the magnetic keylock – she loved using those instead of traditional keys; he never knew why until now – he finally got the two magnets to connect and opened the door to his house. He threw the coat on the rack, shuffling over to the kitchen to get a beer. Maybe someday he’d drink his brains out to forget about everything. Except he never would, never again.

“Greg.” He heard his name called out in that familiar voice, that sweet, soft voice, and he turned his head like a sailor drawn by the siren’s song. There she was, sitting on the couch, looking as beautiful as ever – but now, the chasm of reality between them was so great that even the four feet to the couch may as well be the other side of the Grand Canyon.

“Faust,” he said, standing there. A thought came to him, and he asked, “It is still Faust, right? Or did…?”

She shook her head. “Not yet. I couldn’t become someone else without coming back to say goodbye.” She stood up and she was naked; not unclothed, but barren, vulnerable, empty. “I never wanted to lose you. Love is rare for me – and every time I took that chance, it ended in tears and anguish, because in the end you all see me for what I really am. Not an alicorn, but a monster. Remember the old saying about being careful that you don’t become a monster while fighting them? I became one long ago. Maybe that’s why I lost everything and will still lose everything. Because I don’t deserve you. Because Celestia and Luna deserved a better mother than they had. Because Equus deserved a better queen than it had.” Her blue eyes began to moisten again and she said, “But all I can be is me. And I am eternally damned for it.”

“Faust….”

“I love you, Greg. I love you in a way I haven’t loved anyone in hundreds of years. Yes, hundreds. For all my life, believe it or not, I never married. Always wanted the perfect stallion…or the perfect man…to walk down the aisle with. And yet in the end, I push you away, because none of you are the ones lacking. It’s always me. Always.”

“Faust….”

“Is it so wrong that I want someone of my own?” she cried. “I bleed and cry and all the other things living creatures do, why am I denied happiness? I am supposedly a living goddess…but who do I get to turn to when I need salvation from whatever The Rules are doing to me? When do I get to see my foals again? When do I get to have a love of my own? When do I—”

He shut her up, kissing her. She returned the kiss, hungrily, not stopping, her tears of pain becoming tears of joy as she knew a True Thing: he’d accepted her. In his heart of hearts, she was finally accepted and in the back of her mind, she felt something shift. She didn’t know what it was, or what it would portend, but something in the universe had just changed…and she didn’t care.

Still kissing her, he dragged her over to the desk where he kept his art equipment. Opening a drawer, he took the engagement ring out and slipped it on her finger. She offered no argument nor attempted to stop him. Finally breaking away for breath, he said, “Vegas. We can hold a formal one later.”

They were standing in front of the Bellagio before he could even finish his next sentence.

COMBS: Could Our Mother Bemoan Sybaritism?

September 19, 2046
San Caballo

“Please! Stop! I’m your mother!” Ditzy lay there, bloodied and bruised, one eye too swollen to see through correctly – the irony wasn’t lost there. A good number of her feathers were torn out; they were going to take a while to grow back. But none of that compared to the injured, betrayed look that was in the maternal pegasus’ eyes.

“YOU’RE NOT MY MOTHER!” Gray hooves, the same color as Ditzy’s, rained down on her violently, each one speckled with blood. Eyes in the hue of dawn looked fit to kill, madness in their murderous visage. “MY MOTHER WOULD HAVE LOVED ME! BUT YOU GOT IN THE WAY AND NOW YOU NEED TO DIE!”

“Please,” Ditzy gasped, looking up at her would-be murderer, her foal. “Please, forgive me. I never meant to hurt you. Please!”

“DIE, YOU TAIL-LIFTING HARRIDELLE!” Another vicious hoof slammed down, crunching something. And in the back of the murderous mare’s mind, a voice began shouting: “What are you doing?”

She couldn’t stop. There was too much righteous fury to dispense.

“Stop it, sis!”

It was almost…pleasurable…in its way. For a brief second, the murderess wondered if that was how her mo…no, this harridelle before her felt when she was letting herself be pleasured by so many of her lovers.

“Are you crazy? You’re going to—”

A light, bright as Celestia’s sun, suddenly filled the air. This was a sign from the goddess herself, surely. Ditziduella Hooves needed to die for her sins, and die at the hands of one of those she was most wronged. It was the natural way of thi—

BOOM

The smell of singed feathers and fur filled Orange’s nostrils as she suddenly woke up from her reverie. The kitchen was filled with the black of carbon scoring and smoke of something having ignited. She looked at herself: her feathers and fur were slightly scorched from the flour explosion.

“Ahem.” Orange turned around and looked, in utter mortification, at the pony standing behind her, with the equally singed mane, wings and now-damaged glasses, was Orange’s younger sister, Hazy Jane. The younger pony’s cracked glasses were shielding her eyes, but she knew that look well. “So…when I was expecting you to welcome me to your place, sis, I wasn’t expecting this. Glad Danny and the band don’t get here until tomorrow.”

“I, uh….” Orange wanted to find an intact bag of flour so she could hide under it. “Um…hi, sis?” It was that point that Hazy’s fractured glasses couldn’t hold together and split, each broken lens falling to each side of her muzzle. “Um…I’ll replace those. Promise.”

Hazy just stood there, staring at her older sister with those eyes of hers that were usually taken care of by the glasses she wore. Eyes that were filled with worry, but eyes that reminded Orange so much of the mother she should have had, the mother that had been Hazy’s right to claim…their aunt, Derpy Hooves. An aunt now gone nearly thirty-five years ago, as well as Derpy’s daughters, Sparkler and Dinky. A whole family that should have been hers.

“Is something wrong, Orange? I mean, if being here’s a problem, Danny and I can just check into the hotel with the rest of the band. It’s no big deal.”

“I….” Orange sighed. “Look, it’s just…frustration. I had a…bad business day. I’m actually glad to see you. Is Fluttsy coming?”

Hazy shook her head. “No, she wanted to plan for the wedding, and so that meant she couldn’t come, though she made me promise that I’d keep Eric safe from groupies.” The pink-topped pegasus grinned. “I think ever since Fluttsy saw that groupie mob in Auckland two years ago, she’s been overly worried about groupies, but Eric’s not that kind of guy.” She finally walked forward and hugged her sister. “So, want to tell me what’s wrong while we clean up the place?”

An hour of cleaning, showers, and coffee later, both sisters were in the upstairs residential part of Orange’s home. “So,” Hazy said, wearing her spare pair of glasses, “Want to explain what got you so riled up?”

“Well….” A pause. “I just got some shipments of orange jelly from our suppliers in Griphonica and it’s really substandard. You know that I test-bake new recipes in the kitchen downstairs before we make it in the kitchens at the store, right? Well, this has got to be the worst orange jelly I’ve ever worked with! If I give this to my customers, I may as well point them in the direction of Pony Joe’s or Sugarcube Corner, and you know how much I’ve put into my company!”

Hazy looked at her sister for a few seconds, then said calmly, “Okay, do you really want to tell me what’s bothering you?”

Orange leaned back, surprised. “W-what do you mean?”

“I mean that the big sister who I’ve always known to be able to come up with just about anything is complaining about something stopping her?” Hazy held an éclair in her hoof, taking a bite. “I remember when you first made these: you got a shipment of hazelnuts from Spain by accident, and nopony here in Equestria had ever had them before. You mixed them in with chocolate and now your éclairs are the talk of the town! That’s the kind of thing you do, not giving up.” The younger mare shook her head. “Look, if you don’t want to talk about it, I can understand, but if there’s a problem, Orange, I want to help.”

The two sat in silence for a few minutes again before Orange spoke. “I got a letter from her. She wants to come next week to visit.”

Hazy grinned. “That’s great, sis! I’ll finally give you an—”

“No.” The hissed response was so severe, Hazy wondered if Orange was turning into a snake. “I want nothing to do with her! And if you had any sense, you wouldn’t either!”

Hazy looked at Orange and the anger in her eyes. “Sis….”

“That’s just the thing – doesn’t it bother you? We’re not sisters, not really. She’s not your mother. Aunt Derpy was your real mother, and Sparkler and Dinky were your real sisters! And up until ten years ago, you had to suffer like the rest of us with that tail-lifter for a mother!”

Hazy sighed. “Orange, we’ve been through this. Mom is Mom; trust me, I’ve had years to think about it. Yes, I know that Aunt Derpy was the one who foaled me and that she probably struggled with not telling me the truth, but…Mom has tried to be there for us since Aunt Derpy died. You saw how she was at the funeral – how she still is! There’s not a single day since that goes by since Mom found out about Aunt Derpy’s death that she hasn’t felt anything less than guilty about everything!”

“She hasn’t felt guilty enough, if you ask me,” she said. “And frankly, Dad should have left her flank and married Aunt Derpy.”

“But that didn’t happen. And Mom and Dad’s marriage has finally gelled since that day. Hell, when Fire reached his dream and joined the Wonderbolts, he thanked Mom for being there every moment of his life. He got that love in ways we didn’t – and that should be the clue of how much Mom’s changed!” She leaned forward. “And think about how much Splashie and Dewie have benefited from that as well – are you going to keep punishing Mom because she made some mistrots when she was younger?”

“YES!” Orange shouted. “I hate her. She never loved us! It was all about spreading her thighs for some stallion or getting down and dirty with some mare! How can you even defend somepony like that?”

Hazy was quiet and sad as she said, “Because she’s our mother. And because she misses you more than you know.”

“Hah! Yeah, right.”

Hazy pulled out her phone. “Fine, don’t want to believe me? Then call Danny – he should be practicing for tonight’s concert but he can probably break away long enough to tell you about when we took her and Dad to LA for their anniversary last year…and when she saw the orange groves in Anaheim, how she couldn’t stop crying because you haven’t spoken to her in ten years!” She held the phone out to Orange and said, “Or maybe you can call Splashie and ask her why the other day Mom was holding a picture of you, just sitting by the window and silent as a grave. Or maybe….”

“Fine, fine, fine, I get the point. You don’t have to keep belaboring it.”

“Or maybe you can talk to my friend Rarity and let her tell you all about how much separation between mother and da—”

Orange turned back on her younger sister and there was anger in her eyes. “Your friend is just as much part of the problem as the tail-lifter is.”

“What?”

“Yes – both the Knight of Generosity and that humanized brat of hers, the Lost Foal.” Orange banged on the table. “You know, if Silver hadn’t chickened out and had married Aunt Derpy, you might have had a normal life? Did you ever think of that?”

“For one, Aunt Derpy broke off the engagement – it wasn’t Silver’s fault. And two, that is incredibly callous of you to say that! I’m sure neither Rarity nor her daughter ever asked for any of it to happen. And I know Rarity hurts, though she hates to admit it, and I’m sure if I ever met Sandalwood I’d guess she probably feels the same way.”

“Doesn’t matter: Aunt Derpy is dead and it’s their fault!”

“And yet somehow you don’t blame Silver for that, I note. Plus, Aunt Derpy volunteered to foalsit Sandalwood – there was no way to know what was going to happen!” Hazy sighed. “Look…if there’s anypony that should be angered about it, it’s me. But I’m not. I miss our aunt and our cousins, but it was an accident, nopony’s fault – and to blame anypony for it is unfair, Orange, and that’s not you. What’s gotten into you?”

Orange was silent before she admitted, “Riverstream and I are falling apart. He says I’m angry a lot, that I’m not the mare he knew. And then I found some other mare’s manehairs in our bed. He says his sister came over to stay while I was on a business trip to Whinnypeg and crashed on our bed instead of the guest room, but I don’t recall his sister having a blue mane.” Orange began crying and Hazy went over to hug her sister. “And all I can keep thinking of is all this hate and anger that’s building up in me lately.” She leaned against her sister’s neck and the two mares held each other for who knows how long, the older one just crying silently.

After a few minutes, Hazy kissed her sister on the cheek. “Look, you’ve had a lot of stress lately, it sounds like. It sounds like you need a vacation.”

Orange shook her head. “Can’t afford to; it was hard enough finding time in my schedule to squeeze in taking off the two days you and Danny are here.”

“Why so?”

“Talking to my financial advisors; the Shake-Shake-Sugarbake Corporation is trying to force me to sell but I have no interest in doing so.” The older gray mare waved her forelegs around as if to encompass the place as she said, “I’ve spent decades getting my business the way I want it and I have no intent to sell to some soulless megacorp from Empire City. I mean, I’ve just been tearing my mane out trying t—”

“Ssssh,” Hazy said, still holding her sister. “I want you to go upstairs and get some sleep – you need a break, Orange, and if River couldn’t see that, then it’s my job to. I’ll make us dinner tonight – how does cream of rice and mushroom soup and a baguette sound?”

Orange smiled softly; whenever she was down it was a tried-and-true batch of comfort food that Derpy had always made for her. “That’d be great, sis.”

“Then go,” Hazy said, playfully swatting her sister with her tail. “I’ll get started and you need some sleep.”

“And that’s the thing that doesn’t make sense,” Hazy said on the phone to Danny when he called her during his break. He wasn’t due in the dressing room for another hour, and so he spent that time on the phone with her. “She and River have been the perfect couple since they met. He would rather wrestle a manticore than cheat on her. It doesn’t sound like anything he would do.”

“No arguments there,” her husband said. “He’s a pretty good bloke and never struck me as a skirt chaser. Think she might have misunderstood something?”

“Possibly. I think I’m going to call him and try to find out.”

“Love, if you need me for anything before I get there, just let me know, okay? Maybe she’s spitting the dummy over nothing, but better to know now than later.”

“I hope so, hon, I hope so.” There was a knock at the door, and Hazy said, “There’s someone at the door, so I gotta go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow when you get into town, okay? Love you. Bye.” She hung up her phone and went to the door, finding a very sultry looking blue-maned unicorn sitting there. “Yes, can I help you?”

“Uh, I hope I’ve got the right address,” the mare said, nervously. “Is River in?”

Blue hair? Oh, River, please no…. “He’s not here at the moment, can I help you?”

The mare relaxed. “Thank Celestia. I swear, if my husband knew I was here with another stallion….”

“Your husband?”

She nodded. “He’s a very jealous type, but I love him more than anything. Anyway, the boss left something at the office and I thought I’d drop it off. Admittedly probably a little forward of me, but I thought he might need it here more than at home.” The mare handed Hazy a wrapped package. “And, if I may say, your husband is a wonderful mare, Miss Orange. I…say, I thought he said you had an orange mane?”

Hazy laughed. “Oh, I’m not River’s wife – that’d be my sister. I’m staying with them for a couple of days, and my husband should be here tomorrow.”

“I see. Well, in that case I’ll leave that with you and hope that things work out for them. Ta-ta!” And with that, the mare disappeared.

Holding it in her teeth, Hazy went upright to carry the package over to the table before setting it down. “Well, in that case I’ll leave that with you and hope that things work out for them,” Hazy thought. What was that all about? Hazy didn’t think much more about it; deciding to start on dinner for her sister.

Orange, I really hope that this is just an overreaction. I can’t see River being like this, I just can’t.

“Dinner was great, sis,” Orange said, nuzzling her sister. “I can’t thank you enough.”

She grinned. “I seem to recall a big sister who used to do the same for me whenever I caught the feather flu,” she said with a smile. “Oh, and I talked to Danny while you were asleep; Eric’s coming over as well. He said he can deal with sleeping on the couch, but he’d rather be around family than the hotel.”

“Sure,” Orange said. “But ugh, I hate wearing clothing.”

Hazy grinned. “And that’s why I always wear baggy stuff. I mean, yeah, Peter teases me about not looking like a proper Sheila – whatever that means – but it’s not as constricting as human clothing seems to be. And besides, the guys are used to pony norms now if you don’t feel like wearing anything at all.”

“No, I think I probably should,” Orange answered. “In any case, I’m going to go downstairs and burn off that extra energy making a bunch of chocolate chip cookies for your hubby – I know he likes them. You get some sleep, okay?”

Hazy nodded. “Will do.”

“Oh, and Hazy?”

“Yes?”

Orange leaned over and nuzzled her sister. “Thanks for looking out for me.”

“Always.” And with that, the younger gray mare walked upstairs towards the bedrooms. As soon as she did, with a plastic smile on her face, Orange walked over to the ovens. The thing should be done by now. Opening the oven, she grabbed a mouth mitt and pulled out the tray. On it, was a crisped and baked book, burned almost beyond recognition.

I knew it, you gelding, Orange thought, her eyes burning with hatred. You’re trying to steal my husband, aren’t you, mother? You Celestia-damned harridelle! Orange had opened up the package and found the kind of book that she would never have around the house: a recent copy of the Karmare Sutra, a sex book. And on the book was a sticky note in all-too-familiar writing:

I want you in every way like this!
–D

Mother doesn’t have blue hair, but her so-called ‘best friend’ Blue Ocean does, Hazy mused. And I know that Dad once said that mother and Blue Ocean knew each other very well. But why would…? No, it didn’t matter, Orange decided. All she knew was that her mother was playing her father false once again and this time not even her family was immune to her ‘charms.’

Letting the book sit on the tray, burning, she placed it under an intake fan so the stench could carry away – no need for that kind of smell twice in one day, she thought. With that, she decided to make an extra-large batch of cookies for Danny, Eric, Peter, Nigel and Duncan – three of the members of the band were happily married to their wives and Eric was soon to marry into the family.

At least some members of this family know what loyalty is, Orange mused darkly.

That night, Orange dreamed.

She stood on a corroded, blasted plain overlooking a dead valley. The sky was deep black and the clouds a burning red. The moon loomed unnaturally large and the world was lifeless except for her lone self.

Yes, my handiwork. This is the culmination of Eternal Night, a voice said behind her. But I no longer desire that. Now, I desire more. Revenge. Orange turned around and saw the most horrific thing in her life: Nightmare Moon, standing before her.

Orange didn’t try to run – where could she run to? This was a barren wasteland, a bleak world devoid of anything save for her and the demonic alicorn. Even if by some miracle she were to get away, there was no place to call for hope or succor.

I see you are wiser than most who come across me in their dreams, the Nightmare said. Most have tried to escape me, you know. They never do. They never wake up, either. Ever. The mistress of nightmares began to walk around the smaller pony, a wry smile on her face. And yet you do not run. Is that because you are foolish? Or brave? Some would call you the former. I, however, choose to believe the latter.

“I-I’m not afraid of you,” Orange finally spoke.

Indeed, you have nothing to be afraid of, Nightmare replied. At least, not now. Normally, I would counsel you to be very afraid – terrified, even. But not today. And do you know why? Because I have something to offer you.

“You do?”

How about all of my power? All of it to use against those have wronged you. All that have spurned you. All that would hurt you. The Nightmare pointed a hoof in a direction and Orange knew she shouldn’t look, that it would tear her heart, and yet she did, and suffered for it: in the near distance, going at it as if the population of Equestria depended on it, was River…and her mother, Ditzy. They rocked and sighed, moaned and sweated together, the two rhythmically moving as one in a way that strongly suggested that this was by no means the first time they’d done this. Or the second. Or the third. Or….

“No!” Orange screamed, trying to run towards them, but finding herself rooted in spot. But Ditzy heard them. She gave a sultry, knowing smile to her daughter and then breathed to River, “Harder and more, my love.” He did as instructed, and as the two came to la petite mort together, Orange screamed in pain and betrayal, falling to the ground, “No, no, no….”

A pity. And you thought his heart was pure. Makes you wonder who your youngest brother’s real father is, doesn’t it? Nightmare cooed. And speaking of which, I believe your father was once desired to marry your beloved aunt. But that can never happen now, because of this, I presume.

If the horror that Orange had seen before had jarred her, the next was worse. The gryphons breaking into Derpy’s home. Sparkler and Dinky putting up valiant struggles against the bandits as Derpy escaped with the foal, only to be captured. And then…. Orange’s eyes went wide and she screamed as she saw her cousins’ tails being pulled up forcefully, the looks of horror on their faces as the gryphons started to….

Everything mercifully blurred and she suddenly found herself watching as a bloodied and battered pegasus tried to take to the air once more, a crying bundle in her forelegs. One of the gryphons produced a crossbow, firing it with all-too-precise accuracy; the quarrel hit Derpy straight in the back of the head. The pegasus fell to the ground, stilled as the rain and wind came and the gryphon picked up the package in her arms, leaving the gray mare to die.

“MAKE IT STOP!” Orange roared, tears streaming from her eyes. She closed them, hoping this nightmare would end…

…and just like that she found herself standing on that shattered ridge once more, looking at the Nightmare. I offer you the chance to change history, to make things better and punish those who have wronged you. I offer it all to you. And all I ask for is a mere trifle, the tiniest of things.

“And what would that be?”

Something where your interests and mine dovetail, the Nightmare answered. She looked far less frightening now, more like a larger version of Princess Luna than a demon. Years ago, I was falsely accused by the Knights Elemental of absconding with Princess Luna. My side of the story was never presented, and I have been made into a monster unfairly. I desire a chance to avenge myself for that wrong, to show the world what Celestia’s lies are and what Luna’s cowardice stated. I want what should be my just due. But to do so, I need an ally in the world to assist me. A partner, if you will.

“And why would I have anything against the Bearers?”

Because, my dear Orange, if Silversteel had not married Rarity, he would have married your aunt. And an Uncle Silversteel would never have let his family down. Instead? It was his foal – his and Rarity’s, a foal that would never have been born otherwise – that was the catalyst of your aunt’s murder and your cousins’ rape and murder. Think on that for a moment: your aunt was supposedly a close friend to Rarity and Twilight and yet when she was in trouble, where were they? They only came when Rarity’s foal was in danger, too late to save your aunt. And do you know why? Because I believe Silversteel planned to leave his false mare of a wife and return to the mare who loved him most.

Yes, see it in your heart and know that it is true: Rarity and Twilight allowed her to die. But, the Nightmare said, placing a soft, understanding wing around the smaller pegasus, with my power, you could stop that. Save your aunt and even change time and space so that she is with either of the stallions that she loved. After all, having an uncle such as Silversteel would ensure your suffering wouldn’t happen. Or, perhaps, even having your beloved aunt as your stepmother would ensure an entirely new life for you, would it not?

The Nightmare looked at the gray mare and there was concern and understanding in her eyes – eyes that seemed so inequine a second ago yet now radiated care. You do not have to make this decision yet; it is a large one, I understand. Take time to think about it and I will discuss this with you later.

And with that, Nightmare Moon passed her sable wing gently across Orange’s face….

“Morning, sleepy!” Hazy said to her sister as she came down the steps into her kitchen. “Feel any better?”

“A little,” Orange yawned as she reached for the coffeepot. “Danny and Eric getting here soon?”

“The train arrives at the station in the afternoon. Oh, and Fluttsy couldn’t bear to be away from Eric forever, so it looks like it’s going to be a crowded home tonight. She’s on another train but arriving thirty minutes after the guys.” As Orange plopped down on the table, Hazy pushed over a basket of muffins. “Just like Aunt Derpy used to make. I admit, I’m nowhere near as good as you, but….”

“Oh, please – with you, it’s genetic, Hazy.”

“Uh, Mom and Aunt Derpy were twins, so…same genes,” Hazy reminded her sister.

Orange was about to respond when there was the fumbling of keys in the lock, followed by the door opening and a persian-green pegasus stallion with a midnight-green mane came in, holding a suitcase under one wing. “Orange….” he said softly. Riverstream then gave his sister-in-law a quick “Hi, Hazy,” before turning back to focus on his wife.

The look on the older mare’s face was one of near-heartbreak. “Why?”

“Why what?” Riverstream said, a confused look on his face.

Orange’s heartbreak was suddenly replaced with anger. “You left me! And what about the blue hair?”

He sighed. “Orange…I had a two-day conference to attend in Port Ferrier and you know how long it takes to fly there. And as for the blue hair…I told you it was Swifty! Why can’t you believe me? You know I would never play you wrong, Orange!”

Hazy decided at this point to intervene. “River, who’s Swifty?”

“My kid sister, Riverswift. She’s got an eton-blue coat, but always complained about her fuschia-colored mane and tail. She went to a local stylist to have it dyed dark blue and I have to admit it looks much better on her.” River turned back to his wife. “Look, if you want proof, here.” River opened his bag, reached in and pulled out a picture; the image had River and a younger pegasus mare next to him with deep blue hair and a family resemblance. “I asked Swifty to mail it to me at the hotel because I figured you weren’t going to believe me otherwise.”

Orange looked at the photograph, the look on her face one of embarrassment, but that didn’t last long as she then accused, “But you said we were splitting!”

“No, I said I had to split if I was going to fly to the conference in time.” He went over to his wife, and with his wing, lifted her face so she would look into his. “I know this whole thing with the hostile takeover has fried you, Orange, but you’re starting to lose it, hon. Think about it: after nearly thirty years of marriage, why would I give up on you?”

She looked at him, her face unreadable. She then looked at her sister, who was busy focusing on her phone (or pretending to do so out of politeness). She then went for her last straw: marching over to the trash can, she pulled out the burnt book, saying, “Then explain this!”

River took the book, looking at it weirdly. “Uh, this is the Karmare Sutra.”

“Yes.”

“Why in Celestia’s name would I even need that, hon? I mean….” He trailed off, seeing the crisped note on the cover. “Oh, that explains it. Who gave you this book?”

“Actually, she gave it to me,” Hazy said. “I answered the door. Unicorn mare.”

The look on his face was one of sudden irritation. “That crazy…. Did she mention she was married?” When Hazy nodded, River sighed, then continued. “Heart’s Desire is my secretary. She’s been trying to offer ‘special incentives’ to me as of late, but I’m not interested. And she uses that ‘I have a husband’ excuse any time she runs into another mare who might be a problem for her. I’m thinking about firing her, to be honest, but I haven’t found a suitable replacement yet.” Pointing at the book, he said, “This is probably another one of her not-so-subtle hints.” He looked back at Orange and said, “And there you go. I’m not going anywhere, Orange. I’d be crazy to, and it never entered my mind. But you’ve got to start relaxing, okay?”

She looked at him and her eyes started to water as she realized how much she’d hurt him. She then leaned into him, crying and pleading for forgiveness. “It’s okay, hon,” he said, “it’s okay. I know that your foalhood brought in some extra concerns, but our life is different. Oh, and speaking of which….” He reached into his bag and pulled out a chocolate bar and said, “Here – try this.”

Orange unwrapped it, gave a piece to her husband and then one to Hazy before taking a nibble. “This is good!” She read the label. “MildBon Chocolates. I’ve heard of them.”

“Well, get this: I was talking to one of the other pegasi, Bon Voyage, at the conference and she said her cousin, Bon-Bon, owns MildBon and is always looking for strategic partnerships. I know that you can never find that perfect chocolate mix you’re looking for in your recipes, so BV suggested putting you in touch with Bon-Bon about using their chocolate.”

Orange grinned. “And with the sales, I could send Sugarbake packing!” She hugged her husband tight. “River, you’re a genius!”

“I know,” he grinned.

“Well, that’s my cue,” Hazy said, looking at her phone. “I’m going to go upstairs and get dressed. Always hard to pick out something to wear for the hubby’s sake.”

As the younger mare went upstairs, River looked at his wife. “Sweetheart, I know we’ve had some rough patches lately, but I want things to be better. We’ll beat these guys and things can get back to normal, okay?”

She leaned into him, feeling his strength. “Okay.”

“But there’s just one more thing that I need you to do. Can you do that for me?”

She nuzzled him, feeling his love. “Okay.” He then rapped a single hoof on the ground, the sound echoing on the sparkling clean tiles in the room, and the door to the house opened once more, and as it did, Orange’s smile fell.

“Hello, Orange.” Both Ditzy Doo and Autumn stood there, looking at their daughter.

“Hello, Dad,” Orange said, craning her neck slightly in a way to acknowledge her father while ignoring the mare in front of him. “You can come in. She can go to Tartarus,” Orange said in a sickly-sweet voice that hid the venom.

“Orange,” Autumn began, but was hushed by his wife.

“Orange…why can’t you forgive me? Your brothers and sisters have. And I know I hurt you, hurt everypony so many times. But I never stopped loving you, any of you.” The older gray mare walked towards the younger, hurt in her eyes. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, Orange. But your father forgave me, and Fluttsy, and Hazy.”

Orange turned to look at her husband with anger. “So is this what you were doing at the conference? Or should I say ‘who you were doing’?”

“Orange,” River began.

“Orange, if you want to blame someone, blame me,” Autumn said. “I want our family to be the way we should be, and you are the last link. Since I was at the weather conference as well, I met with River and we discussed how to do this. It’s not his fault, it’s mine.”

“Dad, I could never blame you,” Orange said. “You were always there for us, even when you didn’t need to be. You weren’t the one sleeping with anything that moved.”

Ditzy turned her head down in shame. “I just…I just want you back in my life, Orange.”

“Yeah, well too bucking bad. You know the way out, the sooner the better. Dad, you’re welcome to stay, though with all the family being here, that might make things difficult.”

“No it won’t,” a voice said from the stairs as Hazy descended them; she was bipedal now, wearing a t-shirt, jeans and ponyshoes and had her bag slung around her shoulder. “Just checked into the hotel, both us and Eric and Fluttsy. Mom and Dad should be here with you; I’ll explain everything to the others when I see them at the hotel.” She then went up to her parents and hugged them. “Hi guys. You staying for dinner and the concert?”

“Of course,” Autumn said, embracing his only biological child.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Ditzy added, as she nuzzled the daughter of her heart.

Hazy then went over and hugged River quickly, then last went up to Orange. “Give Mom a chance, Orange. She came here to make things right, and it would make Dad happy if you did,” the younger whispered to the older.

“I don’t want to,” Orange hissed.

“I know you will,” Hazy insisted. “It’s what Aunt Derpy would want.” Orange felt chastened by that and wordlessly nodded to her sister as the dawn-maned pegasus waved her goodbyes and then left, taking to the air and leaving a baker in a particularly sticky situation.

Orange settled into an uncomfortable sleep. Dinner and the concert did not go very well. Dinner was mostly Fluttsy and Hazy trying to convince her to make up with Ditzy, while Ditzy sat there, pleading her own case with Orange. The stallionfolk – both pony and otherwise – were chatting about non-descript things at the bar with the occasional time for Danny and Eric to sign autographs.

The concert went okay, but Orange’s mind was a stew of anger and bile. Her mother wanted everypony to forgive, just like that! Orange couldn’t fathom how her siblings could do so, with the exception of Firewire; he had been the only one who was young enough to have been raised by both parents. But as for the others, Fluttsy said, they had grown tired of the fighting between mother and daughter and wanted Orange to forgive Ditzy, because it was foalish that Orange couldn’t.

The resulting fight – the first one Orange had ever had with her older sister – did not end well. Fluttsy would have a black eye for a couple of days from Orange’s buck and the two sisters would be at odds for a while. Hazy felt guilty and spent most of the time backstage, attending to Fluttsy’s injuries; after the pair went backstage, Orange didn’t see either of her sisters again for the rest of the night. Once the concert was over, Autumn and Ditzy decided to check into the hotel as well, feeling that Orange had sent a clear message – a message that Orange had definitely intended for Ditzy but not for her father. As for River, he was so livid over Orange’s behavior that he ended up being the one sleeping in the guest bed that night, not wanting to speak to his wife after her tirade.

And that left Orange lying in the bed, wondering how everything went wrong, and how things could be fixed.

You know how they can be fixed, Nightmare said as she looked into the eyes of the heartbroken pegasus. The offer is still open.

“How much can I change?” Orange said, seriously contemplating the demonic alicorn’s offer. Once, it had been unthinkable. But she’d found out today that there were worse things, and if those worse things resided in reality, then how much of the story regarding Nightmare Moon was a lie?

Whatever your heart desires, Nightmare replied. All I need is for you to answer this: do you accept me as your liege lady?

Orange thought about it for a second, knowing that her answer would be irrevocable. “My answer is….”

COMBS: Can Obsolete Marriages Be Salvaged?

October 9, 2046
Washington DC

Just a quiet Tuesday post-holiday morning spent on paperwork in her office, Lyra thought, hoping a slow week. And she needed it, too: Paul was out in California arguing a case in front of the 9th Circuit out in San Francisco. She’d planned to spend the weekend with the kids at King’s Dominion down in Richmond, but then Paul’s parents showed up and said that since they were headed that way, they’d be happy to take the kids. And at the time, it was a good idea, because it gave Lyra a free weekend; something she hadn’t had in quite some time. And right now, she needed the break, because….

On second thought, as her mind went to Saturday evening’s debacle, maybe I should hope for yet another warlord popping up in Somalia to keep my mind off of things.

No such luck. The phone built into her desk chimed and as Lyra hit the speakerphone function, her secretary’s voice spoke on the other line. “Lyra, got someone here to see you. Personal matter.”

Lyra felt her throat clench. She should have expected this. “Sure, Scent, send ‘em on in,” she finally said, wondering if she was about to make a big mistake.

A few seconds later, a unicorn mare walked in. Walking bipedally, as was the norm when on human-Earth, she had a turquoise coat and baby-blue eyes framed by fiery orange mane. At the moment she was wearing a jean jacket, a French navy long-sleeved t-shirt, and a pair of slacks topped off by typical casual pony shoes.

“Lyra,” Waterfire said, standing in the ambassador’s office, “We need to talk.”

The celeste mare looked at her younger friend nervously. After last night…. As a trained diplomat, Lyra was used to getting out of trouble and issues using negotiation and other time-honored tricks of the trade. But Wai’s not some minor functionary from another country I can’t stand. She’s a friend. “I didn’t….” the older pony said. “I didn’t expect it to happen. I didn’t want it to happen.”

“I know,” the younger mare replied, her voice a soft whisper. “I saw. You thought I was asleep, but I saw. And….” Waterfire looked past the other unicorn, adding, “I don’t blame you, not one bit.”

Lyra led the younger pony to a sofa by the coffee table. “Care for some coffee? Just got another batch from the Colombian ambassador. He’s trying for a favorable trade agreement, so he thinks bribing me with coffee is a good thing. Personally,” she said with a forced grin, “I’m all for it.”

“Please,” Waterfire said, taking a seat. The unicorn mage was fidgeting nervously, Lyra noted. Something was wrong, and that atop what was already wrong to begin with. Putting together two cups, Lyra floated one over to Waterfire and placed the cream and sugar tray on the table. She then took the other in her forehooves, pouring in a small amount of cream and a huge amount of sugar. Sitting down and taking a drink to steady her nerves, she then became forthright; it was the only way to get to the bottom of this.

“Waterfire, are you two…?”

The mage understood the implication immediately. “Oh, dear Celestia, no – I would never! My heart only belongs to her, Lyra, ever since the day I met her in the chocolate shop back in Manehattan. And for five years – five wonderful years – it has been just us. I love Bonnie more than I can ever say. And I know, without a doubt, that she loves me. In fact, last night she and I…well, I….” Waterfire blushed.

“One of the best things about living in an ambassadorial home is that it’s professionally sound-proofed, just in case. I assure you I had no idea what you two were doing.”

But that brought scant relief to Waterfire as she added, “But she still loves you, Lyra. And I know you still feel the same way about her, too.”

The elder unicorn shook her forehoof to dismiss that thought. “Doesn’t matter how I feel, Wai. I’m a happily-married mare, and a monogamous one. I don’t ‘run in the field’ like some ponies do; never have, even when I was with Bonnie. And there’s something else, too: I have children, and they mean the world to me. So doing anything to upset the boat that is my marriage is out of the question.” Lyra then turned the tables on the younger mare, asking, “So…why did—”

“Please don’t say that,” Waterfire interjected. “I know what you’re going to say; believe me, you have every right to say it. But you know she’s not like that.”

“Really? Then how am I supposed to react? Because she’s one of my closest friends and….” The look on Lyra’s face was one of hurt, resignation and anger as her mind slipped back to the previous weekend.

Lyra practically hugged the two as they arrived. “It’s great to see you two!”

“I’m always glad to be seen by you,” Bon-Bon said, kissing her old flame gently on the cheek. “But since we were in town, we were stopping in anyway.”

“Yeah, it’s good to see you,” Waterfire said, the younger turquoise unicorn hugging Lyra. “Besides, we’re celebrating! I just got promoted – now I’m a Command Mage! I assume command of the Manehattan Regional Guild facility in February.”

“Wow, congrats, Wai,” Lyra said. “So young and already a command mage – must’ve been hard going up against people at least a decade older.”

She blushed slightly. “Well, fortunately there were a couple of ponies my age, so I don’t feel too bad about it. I do feel sorry for Star Swirl over in Ponyville, though – for such an important town, it’s a pretty dead-end post for a mage to be assigned to. But Sweet Sunset? Ugh – there’s a sore loser if I ever met one.”

Bon-Bon patted her partner on the flank. “Watch it, Waifu, that’s my hometown,” the earth pony said with a soft grin. Turning back to Lyra, she asked, “So where are Paul and the kids? I was hoping to get tackled by three kids happy to see their Aunt Bonnie and demanding lots of chocolate – which I did bring, by the way.”

Lyra shrugged. “Paul is arguing a case before the 9th Circuit Court out in California. His assistant was supposed to handle it, but she caught the chickenpox – some weird human disease, if I recall correctly – and now he has to handle the case; he’s already been in San Francisco for the past week and for this coming week, too. Really sucks, because I was hoping to take the kids down to King’s Dominion for the weekend. But as coincidence would have it, Paul’s parents were headed down to Richmond this weekend and took the kids with them so I could get a few days of peace and quiet. But what are you guys doing in town?”

“Well, it’s a working vacation,” Bon-Bon replied. “I’m checking with a few of my business partners and making sure they’re on the up and up. I know I can trust my partners in Equestria, but being out of country, the ones here aren’t as scrupulous.”

Due to her skills as a trained diplomat, out of the corner of her eye she noticed the unicorn mage rolling her eyes at Bon-Bon’s last statement; there was something in that statement but it was their business – she just hoped they weren’t fighting. “Well, I’m sure things are on the up-and-up. Economy’s good right now, and people tend to be more honest during booms.”

“I doubt it,” the earth pony grumbled, but that frown went away as she said, “Well, since we’re in town for a couple of days, why don’t we go out for the first one? Fillies’ night on the town and all that?” Both unicorns agreed and the three settled down to chat, just breezily talking the day away while waiting for the bars to open that night.

As the trio stumbled back into Lyra’s place, she regretted agreeing to tonight’s whole plan. Celestia, am I getting old – I just can’t keep up with them! Maybe it’s because I have kids and they don’t. Sure enough, it started out with drinks at the King’s Court Tavern just off King Street, then across over to dancing at the Colonial Bar, then over to the Blue and Gray Bar, then finally at the Taverna. And while ponies had a generally higher tolerance for alcohol than humans, the three had spent enough on drinks that they were well and truly drunk by the time they stumbled into Lyra’s place at two in the morning.

Both Lyra and Bon-Bon plopped on the couch, while Waterfire dropped into the loveseat. After a few seconds, the celeste unicorn swore she heard snoring as Waterfire instantly fell asleep. Well, as soon as the room stops spinning, I’ll crawl to my bedroom; they know how to get to the guest room, so no worries there, Lyra thought as her consciousness not too surprisingly wandered off into Morpheus’ domain.

An hour later, Lyra felt tender touches on her face her neck and a tongue darting between her lips. Mmm, Paul’s feeling kinda randy tonight, she thought. Well, we haven’t done anything since my per—

Wait.

Something at the back of her mind set off alarms. Paul’s lips don’t have fuzz. Even when he’s got stubble it doesn’t feel like….

She opened an eye and found her shirt half-open, and there, unbuttoning it with her teeth, was Bon-Bon.

“Bonnie,” Lyra asked in a slurred voice, “What are you doing?” Part of her liked it. Part of her wanted it. But the alarm bells in the back of her mind reminded her that this was how it all started in the first place and the stakes were so much higher now. Besides, she loved her husband; her marriage to Paul wasn’t crumbling like her last one did when they first met.

“Ly-Ly,” Bonnie breathed, “I want you.” The look in Bon-Bon’s eyes was one of lust and desire, the kind that Lyra had so often wanted…

…but not now. “But I’m married,” Lyra protested. “And your wife is asleep over there!”

“Don’t care. You and me, just like old times,” Bon-Bon said, reaching over and undoing Lyra’s pants. “You want it just as much as I do.”

“No!” Lyra said, the alcohol-induced haze suddenly replaced by icy reality. Bon-Bon wasn’t her spouse, not anymore. And Lyra had made the mistake of cheating once – she’d never do it again.

Bon-Bon laid a series of kisses on Lyra’s chest. “I remember, just like old times, just like you used to like it. I want you, Ly-Ly. I want you more than I can ever say.”

“NO!” Two blasts from Lyra’s horn lit up the room. The first slammed Bon-Bon hard, sending her crashing into the coffee table and shattering it. The second teleported Lyra into her bedroom, where she had enough presence of mind to seal the bedroom door with a locking spell before shivering in fright and what had just happened.

She spent the rest of the weekend in her room, teleporting food in, too afraid to step out into the rest of her own house, and as Tuesday came, she quickly dressed, then teleported herself directly on her motorcycle and rocketed away, even before Terry could arrive with the limo. She needed to get away, and fast.

Lyra sighed. “I feel….” She looked at her coffee, and then it suddenly boiled as it was superheated, sympathetic magic from Lyra’s sudden anger as she moved into the second stage of grief. “I was violated, Wai! My ex-wife violated me! One of my closest friends violated me!”

“I know,” Waterfire said sadly. “She doesn’t even know I’m here. I placed a deep sleep spell on her because I needed to talk to you about this.”

“If it wasn’t for the fact that you’re my friend and she’s my….” Lyra got up, walking around with nervous energy. “If she was anyone else – anypony else – I’d have her ass in the Leesburg jail right now! Do you understand?” Lyra started crying right then and there, falling on the ground, shaking. Waterfire got up to help her, but was rebuffed and all she could do was stand there as Lyra shuddered.

After a few minutes, the celeste unicorn looked at her and asked, “Why?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you – and bear in mind I’m her spouse now, not you.” Waterfire helped Lyra back to her feet and back to her couch. “She wants a foal.”

“Well, we always thought about adopting,” Lyra mentioned, “but obviously we didn’t get around to it. I’m assuming you two have discussed it?”

But the turquoise mare shook her head as she said, “Lyra – she wants your foal.” Then after a few seconds she added, “She honestly suggested that I carry a foal that’s both yours and hers, and then after we could have one of our own.”

The older mare was suddenly dumbstruck. “Uh…she did pay attention when they explained the birds and the bees, right? I mean, yeah, human geneticists have figured out how to make two females conceive offspring, but there are ethical issues involved and…look, it’s so disgusting I don’t even want to think about it right now.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation! I mean, what, did she think we’d just stare into a mirror together and out would pop a foal like the old wives’ tale?”

“I don’t know where she got the idea, but she’s hell-bent on it. And while we’re at it, there’s something else I think you should know….”

Asleep from an extended spell Waterfire placed on her, in the home she once shared with Lyra, Bon-Bon dreamed.

Bon-Bon stood in the middle of the house’s living room, but it wasn’t like anything she remembered. The furniture was burnt and charred, the curtains dusty and almost entirely nothing but spiderwebs. The room didn’t smell like chocolate and vanilla as when she lived here or the sandalwood and cinnamon that had been yesterday’s scents, but burnt rubber and a pungent charred smell that Bon-Bon was sure she didn’t want to know the origin of.

How does it feel to be home? a voice said behind her and down the stairs from the bedroom came Nightmare Moon, the demonic alicorn, the tormentor of dreams. You really must give me the name of your interior decorator sometime. This is a lovely place.

The tan earth pony found herself standing before the demon, and her first instinct was to run. Her second was quickly tempered by realization: where could she run that would get her away from such a monster? Not even Princess Luna herself could find shelter from Nightmare Moon; what could a mere earth pony do?

You were wise not to run, Nightmare advised. Those who attempt to do so in their dreams find they don’t ever wake up from them. A smile formed on the face of the mistress of nightmares as she sat down before Bon-Bon. And I am sure you are wondering as to my earlier statement about you being in your home.

“But this isn’t my home,” Bon-Bon replied. “It stopped being so when I left.”

When you left or when you were forced out? Nightmare asked. The candymaker looked at her oddly and Nightmare chuckled softly. The response made her seem more pony, more approachable. When humanity conspired to force you away from the mare you loved? When they staked a claim on her and made her theirs?

“I don’t understand,” Bon-Bon asked. “How did they make her theirs? She’s always been a pony interested in humanity.”

And that’s the difference, Nightmare explained. She’s no longer a pony. Nightmare Moon pointed up the stairs towards the room she’d just come from, and Bon-Bon heard some murmurs from upstairs, two of the voices familiar. Taking step by step, she moved forward, into the bedroom. And in there, was a sight Bonnie never expected to see.

There, in her human form and an in an intimate moment with Paul, was Lyra – the green-and-white hair made it obvious. But there was someone else there in their loveplay, a second female. Bonnie was shocked at their behavior until she got a better look at the girl with dusky skin and the fire-orange hair.

“No….” Bon-Bon gasped. There, making love with Lyra and Paul, was her beloved Waterfire, now human and enjoying the pleasures of human sex.

As one, Lyra and Waterfire turned to Bon-Bon and said, “Come join us, Bonnie. Be human – there’s no need for a silly dead-end pony body.” Waterfire leaned forward and kissed Lyra passionately, holding the other girl close. “I never want to be an animal again,” Waterfire breathed as she went with Paul next.

“No!” Bonnie screamed and suddenly found herself standing in a field overlooking a factory of some kind. Standing next to her, Nightmare Moon, a concerned look on her face, pointed at the building with disgust.

There. Hassenfeld Laboratories, here in Omaha, Nebraska. People thought of it as just a pharmaceutical company that made aspirin and bandages. But the truth was more sinister. Tell me, Bon-Bon, have you heard of Sweetie Drops? Nightmare asked her.

“It’s a kids’ vitamin made for foals. My cousin Bon Voyage has her daughter take them,” the candymaker answered. “Why?”

Did you know that Sweetie Drops is actually a poison? Nightmare replied. For most ponies, it’s designed to kill the next generation by making those taking it sterile. But for those with certain genetic markers in their DNA, instead it…changes them. Twists them. Warps them.

“How so?”

See that woman walking out of the building? A beautiful human woman in her twenties walked out of the building, wearing a lab coat and business attire, a smug smile on her face as though she were completely satisfied with something she saw in the building. A few more seconds went by before Bon-Bon realized the woman had long hair colored in beige, magenta and burgundy shades.

She used to be Princess Cadance, the demonic alicorn said. Now she owns part of this company, both her and her fellow ex-alicorns – Princess Luna and Princess Celestia. They spend more time partying now than tending to the needs of the ponies they abandoned. The scene shifted to a nightclub; the background chatter Bon-Bon recognized as French. In the center of human bodies grinding, two scantily-clad women danced, one fair and one dusky, both with similar features. But their unique hair signified them as who they were…or rather, used to be. They were once great and admirable leaders, earning respect from even one such as I. Now they’re just bored socialites spending their time in human entertainments and with human men.

And where in all this are the Bearers? the Nightmare inquired, her tone despondent. The scene shifted to Castle Canterlot, now aflame and in ruins, just like the rest of the town. Five bodies lay on the ground, their lives ended: Fluttershy, Applejack, Rainbow, Pinkie and Twilight. And, silhouetted in the distance, Bon-Bon gasped as she saw two more forms, the one on the left, a human, decapitating the one on the right, a pony. The hairstyle of the human was very long, trailing down past her waist, but it was the manestyle of the pony that made Bon-Bon’s heart stop.

Rarity had been killed before her eyes. Rarity, one of her oldest friends, and while the latter had found sisterhood and true companionship with the other Bearers, it didn’t stop the close friendship between Rarity and Bon-Bon.

The human spoke into a phone, “It’s done.” The voice was hauntingly familiar. And as a tan-skinned woman with long brown hair, purple eyes and blood splattered on her walked past Bon-Bon, she knew: DJ, now just as human, had murdered her own mother.

Bon-Bon wheeled on the Nightmare, horror in her eyes. “Why are you showing me this? Isn’t this just a nightmare?”

No, the demonic alicorn said sadly. It’s the future, what will come in a few short years. The look in Nightmare Moon’s eyes was sad as she murmured, I know what other ponies say about me: the monster, the demon, the beguiler. But I am pony as well and I weep for the genocide of our species that is to come.

“But we can ask the gryphons and the others for help!” Bon-Bon cried. “Once the humans show their true colors, then we ca—” Her words were drowned out by a blinding flash, a deafening roar and fire as a burning red mushroom cloud rose to the sky.

Russian ICBM, Nightmare explained. That was Quaggaton. At the same time, American, French, British and Chinese nuclear missiles are striking every capital of all the other Alter-Earth nations. By the time the other species realize what is happening, troops from the other human nations will storm in and commit atrocities on a scale no civilized being has ever seen. Our world will fall and those that survive will be enslaved to humanity – or will be forced to join it. The Nightmare leaned forward and said, They will then have access to our magic and through that will counter and slaughter countless more realities.

“We have to stop them!” Bon-Bon had never liked humans, but this…this was beyond sanity, beyond reason.

There is a way, Nightmare began.

“Tell me!”

I cannot act on my own, you realize. I need a partner, an agent if you will, somepony who will help me to rage against the dying of the light. And that pony is you, Bon-Bon. You called to me, whether you realize it or not. You somehow knew what was coming and turned to the only one who could help. And I can – but I need your help as well. Nopony can do this alone, but together, ponies are formidable. Nightmare placed a gentle wing on Bon-Bon’s withers, a gesture that would be frightening otherwise…but was now comforting. Will you help me save our ponies?

“I…” Bon-Bon began.

I understand. It’s a weighty request. Think about it; we still have time. But not much. Until then, brave Bon-Bon. With that, the Nightmare waved her wing gently across Bon-Bon’s face…

…and Bon-Bon woke up. As she stirred to, she realized she was still in Lyra’s guest bedroom.

“Good, you’re awake.” The earth pony turned her head to see Waifu sitting there in a chair, a concerned look on her face. “Get dressed, Bonnie. We have to be somewhere in an hour.”

“Where are we going?” Bon-Bon asked as she got out of bed. “Where’s Lyra?”

“Bon-Bon, I want you to know something: no matter what, I will always love you and I will always be here for you. Do you understand that?” The older mare nodded, and Wai rose from her seat. “I’ll wait outside. We’ve got unpleasant business to attend to.”

“We can be there by tonight,” Harper said over the phone. “Now will you please tell me what’s wrong, little sister?”

“I…I can’t. Not now,” Lyra said, her voice shaking. “And with the kids coming home tonight and Paul still out for another week…I’m afraid, Harper.”

“Serenade and I are on the next flight. Hell, we’ll drive if we have to. But we’re coming, Lyra. Stay safe, and don’t forget I love you. Bye.” Once Harper hung up the phone, Lyra placed hers in her pocket. She knew her brother and his wife would be here soon enough, but until then, it was going to be rough going for her.

Seated in her favorite bar, the Döner Bistro, Lyra sat sadly as she drained her Köstrizer. Some poppy German band played on the speakers, while on the TV there was a game between Borussia Dortmund and SC Freiburg; normally she’d have been enraptured, but not today. The very fact that she was here was not lost on her.

And this is where it all started…and where I thought it all ended, she thought, trying to hold back tears. And now it’s really going to end here.

The bartender dropped another black lager on the table. “Hey, Lyra, you okay?”

She shook her head. “No, Lisa, I’m not. Is the private room available? Need some privacy for something coming up in a couple of minutes.”

“Well, we normally charge for that, but since you’re our best customer….” The girl fished in her pocket for the keys and handed them over. “Just don’t lose that. Kurt lost our other set last week and that’s the only one until we change the lock.”

Lyra’s horn flashed leaf green, and a second later a replica key appeared on the table. “You don’t need to now,” she said with a sad smile.

“Thanks!” Lisa said, grabbing the newly-made spare key and leaving Lyra alone. But before she did, she said, “You know, Lyra, just because I’m the bartender doesn’t mean you can’t talk to me about your problems. You’ve been coming to this place for twenty years now, and Kurt and I do consider you and Paul friends.”

Lyra flashed the older human a smile. “I’ll keep that in mind, Lisa. Thanks.” And, picking up her beer in her TK, Lyra walked down the second set of stairs towards the private room. She’d held a couple of events here; also attended quite a few that the German ambassadors had held here as well. It was by far smaller than the private room used at one of the other three Döner Bistros that Kurt and Lisa had opened up over the years, but to her this was part of its charm.

Reaching over to turn on the lights in the small room, Lyra had just enough time to turn on the TV and set it to the Dortmund-Freiburg game when both Bon-Bon and Waterfire came in, carrying beers of their own. “Wai, close the door, please.” The younger unicorn did so and both ponies walked towards the table Lyra sat at until they approached one just before that. “Sit there,” Lyra commanded. “I don’t particularly trust you right now, Bonnie.”

Bonnie looked shocked at that. “Lyra! I—”

“—sexually assaulted me. I looked it up, did you know? City and state statutes. The moment I said no, it became attempted rape,” Lyra said, her eyes watering. “But you know what hurts me more? The truth that you hate my husband and children. Those little dears love you – they love their Aunt Bonnie and for me to find out….” The tears started flowing. “How could you, Bon-Bon? How could you?”

She called me ‘Bon-Bon’, the earth pony realized. She hasn’t called me that in years. “Because you’re mine, Lyra. Humanity did something to you, trying to turn you into one of theirs. Your children should be foals,” Bon-Bon insisted, “and they should be ours, but now they’re tainted with—”

“Tainted?” both unicorns said at once.

Bon-Bon nodded. “I know the truth now: about Sweetie Drops, about humanity’s plans for Alter-Earth, for everything. Lyra, it’s not too late! Come home with me – with us!” she said, putting a foreleg around Waterfire. “The three of us will be happy and you won’t have to worry about the lies anymore, not from your so-called friends or so-called husband or tainted ch—”

A new feeling for Bonnie started to build in Lyra and it wasn’t one she ever wanted: disgust. Looking at Waterfire, it was clear that all of this was new to her as well. “Stop right there, Bon-Bon. Don’t you ever refer to my children as ‘tainted’, understood? You’re drawing a line right now and if you cross it, I swear to Celestia I’ll—”

“Bonnie, hon, I’m not sure you should continue this,” Waterfire warned. She shot Lyra a quick look of apology, seeing the writing on the wall.

“Don’t do this to yourself, Lyra! Stop being a tail-lifter for humanity! You’re being used, can’t you understand? These are monsters and murderers and they’re turning ponies into the same thing! Your children shoul—”

Lyra, now infuriated, threw her glass angrily at Bon-Bon; only a quick telekinetic catch by Waterfire prevented it from hitting. “Bon-Bon, I don’t know what your problem is, but this isn’t you. I really thought you loved my children, but to find out this…? Did you know that Orchid was hoping to see you again sometime soon? Did you know that Colby wanted to learn how to make chocolates just like you tried to teach him last year? And Ovie….” Lyra slammed her hands on the table; while she wasn’t an earth pony, her hooves left clear indentations. “They love you, and now to find out that you think of them as dirt, I….”

But Bon-Bon wasn’t getting the hint. “Lyra, you’re not thinking clearly! Just resign your job and come home. We can move back to the old house in Ponyville, okay?”

“Isn’t that the house you sold five years ago?” Waterfire interjected. “It cost a small fortune to get it back up to snuff.”

“Bon-Bon,” Lyra snarled, “get the hell out of my life. I don’t want to see you ever again, not until you’re the Bon-Bon I knew and used to love. Because of what you mean…meant…to me, I won’t press charges, but I want you gone.” Turning to Waterfire, she kept her emotions under control as she said, “I’m sorry, Wai, but it has to be this way.”

“I know, and I’m sorry too.”

Bon-Bon, however, was shocked. “Go away? But Ly—” The words were cut off as Waterfire teleported both ponies out of there. Based on the discussion Lyra and Waterfire had earlier, the younger unicorn had arranged for a hotel in nearby Ashburn in case the worst happened. She’d put Bon-Bon to sleep again, and then teleport back to Lyra’s house to get their luggage. And then….

…if things continued, she’d never see Bon-Bon again. Lyra still remembered how they met, the time when a teenaged Lyra performed as part of her conservatory’s concert for the Summer Sun Celebration in Ponyville. It had been a blast then: her on her harp, Octavia on her cello and Vinyl on her classical guitar, the instrument she learned long before she became fascinated with turntables. After the concert, the teenaged trio had chatted with many a fellow teenager until two of them, a unicorn and an earth pony, both females, approached to chat. The unicorn, named Rarity, was a transplant from Maneapolis and spent most of the time discussing issues with Octavia and a very bored Vinyl. But it was Rarity’s friend, the starry-eyed earth pony, who had spoken to Lyra, not because she found her playing beautiful (she did), but because she found the other mare beautiful.

It had been first love at first sight. And just a few years later, Lyra defied her father’s wishes and moved to Ponyville to marry Bon-Bon. And all those years, and all that time, they always loved each other, even after the divorce and their respective new lives. And now it was all gone.

She put her head down and cried for what she lost – and this time it was likely gone for good.

“C’mon, Lyra, let’s go.” She looked up and found Harper’s wife, Serenade, looking at her. Serenade was a pegasus that had been vacationing in Nashville when she met Harper, and she never left; they’d married shortly before Lyra gave birth to Ovie. “Harper’s at your place with the kids and your in-laws. We were all worried about you, but then Lisa called your house and said you passed out here. What happened?”

“What’re you doing here?” Lyra asked.

“You’ve been here for hours. We just landed in Dulles an hour ago, rented a car and floored it here as fast as we could,” Serenade answered.

“Has anyone called Paul?” Lyra asked as Serenade helped her to her feet. “I…I need him right now.”

“He’s on the next flight back. Court was willing to adjourn while he came home to take care of this emergency. What happened?” Serenade asked.

“Something that I never wanted to happen. And maybe something that should have,” Lyra said, feeling the sting of tears come to her face again.

“Bonnie, what in Tartarus were you thinking?” Waterfire asked. “I thought you loved Lyra’s kids!”

“I can’t,” Bon-Bon said. “Not now that I know what they should have been and what they’ve become. Can’t you see that?” She looked at Waterfire with sadness. “Those should have been my foals – mine and Lyra’s – for the three of us to raise! Paul stole them from us. From me!” The look in the earth pony’s eyes was wild. “They were supposed to be foals with lives and cutie marks and happiness – and humans stole them from us!”

Waterfire’s horn flared and Bon-Bon collapsed on the bed, asleep. “I’m sorry, love, but I can’t bear to see you like this,” Waterfire said, her heart breaking as she knew what had to happen next. Knowing that calling Lyra for help was no longer an option, she reached in her pocket for her phone, dialing a number. “Yes, is this Dr. Redheart’s office?...Yes, I’d like to speak to her….My name is Waterfire. My wife, Bon-Bon, was once treated by Dr. Redheart for a condition, and I’m concerned she may be relapsing….Yes, I’ll wait. Thank you.”

In her dreams, Bon-Bon screamed. She now saw herself, a thing of flesh and hands, breasts and feet, fingers and toes. She’d become the very thing she loathed, hated and feared most.

This is what you will look like if you’re lucky, Nightmare said, suddenly appearing. That is, if Lyra and Waterfire can save you. But since you know the truth, even they may not be able to save you from the fate that your foalhood friend suffered.

Bon-Bon gasped, her eyes growing wild as she remembered what was to happen to Rarity. “I have to save them!” she shouted. “I have to save them all and stop...this!” she said, pointing at her human form.

Then will you partner with me? the Nightmare asked. Will you accept me as your liegelady, take my power and use it to save ponykind?

Bon-Bon looked at what she’d become, and then remembered the man who had stolen the twin loves of her life from her, as well as the fiend that had murdered her dearest friend. “My answer is….”

COMBS: Cranky Ostracized Mage Blames Society

October 5, 2046
Ponyville

“SPINES!” a voice roared. “GET YOUR SCALY FLANK OVER HERE!”

A couple of fillies looked at the baby draconess. “Looks like your Mom’s mad again, Spines,” one said.

“Yeah, what did you do this tim…oh, report cards,” the other one realized.

Spines sighed. “She’s not my mom. She’s my older sister. Kinda. Well, technically, legal guardian. I think. I—”

“SPINES!”

“I’m coming!” she shouted back. Turning back to her friends, she said, “I’m probably going to be grounded until the next century, so…. Thanks for coming though.”

Both fillies hugged Spines. “We’re Cutie Mark Crusaders, right? Ms. Apple Bloom even gave us her old clubhouse! And we always stick together.” Spines hugged back and then the two fillies departed as Spines went over to face the music.

As soon as the girls left, Spines went downstairs to the mage lab portion of the building to face her doom. “I guess that tomorrow’s sleepover with Sugar Sprinkle and Buttercup is out of the question?” she asked.

A report card was held in front of her, stuck in place by the hundreds of miniature stars and microgalaxies that made up its owner’s unique aura. “Explain.”

“But Star—!”

“But nothing, Spines.” Star Swirl looked at the dragon she’d raised since she hatched her ten years ago. “You realize I have to have a meeting with your teacher and your principal, right? I mean, Mr. Shiny Apple is an easy-going teacher, and Ms. Cheerilee is getting involved as a teacher and the school principal. What did you do?”

“But I didn’t mean to!”

“Didn’t mean to…what?”

Spines shuffled her feet. “I…kinda sneezed on a paper that Mr. Apple took from me, and it kinda caught fire and it kinda burnt his mane.”

“Why did he take the pap…no, let me guess,” Star said. “You were writing love letters to Spike in school again, weren’t you?” A guilty look crossed the draconess’ features and Star sighed. “Consider yourself grounded for the next week, young lady.”

“But why do I have to go to school anyway?” Spines asked. “Spike never went to school!”

“And the Archmagus already explained why,” Star said, exasperated. “The Archmagus’ mother homeschooled him until he and Twilight moved here and she took care of the rest of his education. She was already qualified as a fully-accredited professor when she moved here, remember?”

“Oh, so you’re saying that I have to go to school because you’re not good enough to be a teacher, is that it?”

“Okay, I’ve had enough of your mouth, young lady. Go to your room and don’t come out until dinner, understood?”

“I hate you! I wish you never hatched me!” Spines said, running up the stairs.

“Well, that goes for both of us!” Star shot back as she went into the kitchen to grab an ice-cold cider. She usually didn’t drink and the cider was for any mage that came visiting, but after the kind of day she was having, it was appropriate.

Star Swirl the 35th. What a bucking joke, she mentally groaned. Or “Beardy” – even she calls me that. Everyone expects so much of me but no one will give me room to be me. No, all they want is “Star Swirl”, not me. She plopped down on the couch and took a swig of her cider. And now one of the few ponies I thought I could call a friend just backstabbed me. Her horn lit up and she summoned the message she received earlier that day, the results of the promotion board for the position of Commanding Mage of the Manehattan Regional Facility. It was a prestigious and important position, the kind that any mage would be proud to have.

And it went to Waterfire. Celestiadammit, Waifu, you don’t have the backbone for that kind of thing. Not that she had anything against Waterfire; the two went through the Academy together and were friends, but Waterfire’s spouse…was a little funny – in that “Mommy she scares me” kind of sense. In a previous promotion board that both Star and Waterfire had served on for promoting junior mages to a higher rank, Waterfire had argued that one particular mage was unsuitable because his fiancée was, to use Waterfire’s odd phrasing, “cuckoo for cocoa puffs.” And now when your integrity is on the line, Waifu? You ignore it?

Plus, I wanted that job, too! It would get me out of this stupid little town, to someplace bigger and maybe a place where Spines wouldn’t be reminded of Spike all the time. That was in itself another problem: when the Archmagus hoof-picked Star for the position in Ponyville, the younger unicorn had done backflips of joy: it was a very prestigious position, the storied home of the Bearers and the office was in the former library – the Archmagus’ old home! But as reality set in, Star Swirl realized that with the Bearers having beaten most of the problems in Equestria, her duties as mage were piddling and minor and, save for the rare monster rampage coming out of the Everfree, nonexistent. One year she had so little to do that she spent most of that time formulating public policy with Mayor Mare’s successor, Mayor Wind Whistler. By now, Star was senior enough and old enough that she should have been assigned an apprentice of her own to guide. But she knew why that didn’t happen, either: motherhood, in a sense.

Star Swirl was indeed the third pony in history to hatch a dragon egg – but that had happened when she was twenty years old, much older than the Archmagus had been. Twilight Sparkle, though she didn’t seem to realize it, had an advantage because she’d been so young: Princess Celestia had worked to have Twilight’s parents formally adopt the dragon into their family, and his early education had been taken care of by a handpicked staff; it was only when Twilight had reached legal adulthood and was considered old enough to care for her younger brother’s needs that she took over his education.

But Star was already an adult when it happened, so…she was legally considered Spines’ mother; the adoption paperwork even said so. But Star found that a little unsettling, so she settled on having Spines think of her as an older sister instead. But as accomplished a mage as she was, she wasn’t the scholar her ancestor had been, much less that of the Archmagus. So Spines was educated in a normal pony school and that was the second reason she’d been assigned to the Ponyville station: as Spike had spent his formative years here, Ponyville was known for being a diverse city even before it was a diverse city. Even now, her next-door neighbors were a pair of humans who worked for the Everfree Forest chapter of the Worlds Wide Fund for Nature. But that didn’t matter to how Star was raising Spines.

What she was meant to be was the next archmagus, the next legend in the storied history of the Star Swirl name. What she was instead was a single mother with an idol-obsessed pseudo-daughter in a dead end job in a town mostly known for the librarian that had done more in her life than any Star Swirl ever did.

And no chance of ever getting laid, either. That last part was especially true. No, not that it had much to do with her dating prospects: many a single mage and many a single pony in town had tried to court her; quite a few of them found it intriguing that she was already a mother and instead of repulsing them, it interested them that she was a capable parent. But with the exceptional attempt at a relationship that never seemed to go anywhere past having sex, they all ended the same way: with the same accusation: Star, I’m not feeling it from you – you don’t love me. Hell, her recent relationship with Bella Luna almost made it to what could have been seen as a normal relationship, but then she was gone, having found a stallion, and Star was once again alone.

They’re right; I never did love any of them. Because I love the one I could never have. Sweetie Belle, her mentor. But Sweetie Belle had been more than a mentor to her; she had been a big sister with advice and friendship and caring. And she’d introduced Star to Pip, Sweetie’s longtime boyfriend. And the first time they’d playfully kissed in front of Star – just an acknowledgement of their relationship – Star found herself wanting that. At first she thought she’d fallen for Pip, but as time went on, she knew who her heart had been given over to. But all the attempts to forget, the self-brainwashing spells, the passioned nights of having sex with a magical Sweetie Belle construct she’d created…none of it was a replacement for the real, live, dream of a mare that Star wanted so much.

And now they’re finally engaged and Sweetie wants me to be one of her bridesmares. The older unicorn could easily have stabbed Star with a poisoned knife and it would hurt less.

I’m supposed to be “Star Swirl the Magnificent” – that’s the appellation I was supposed to get when I proved myself. What do they call me? “Beardy”, if I’m lucky. Or “Star Swirl the Washed-up”, behind my back. One of my cousins even said I was “Star Swirl the Placeholder until a Real Star Swirl Shows Up”. Maybe that’s really why the Archmagus assigned me here: not because she wished to honor my heritage or give me a chance to be a good mother…but to be out of the way so I don’t become an embarrassment to my family.

There was a knock on the door and Star opened it. To her surprise….

“Well, hello, cousin.” A black stallion walked through the door, the look on his face one of barely-concealed contempt. “I thought I’d stop by on my way to my current assignment.”

“Well, hello, Black Star,” Star said, seeing him. She and Blackie were the same age and didn’t get along for one simple reason: if he’d had the characteristic horn flare a few seconds before she did during the family naming ceremony, he’d have been Star Swirl the XXXV and she Novastar, the name that was eventually given to her younger sister. As it was, Blackie felt he was the true heir of the name and carried himself accordingly, complete with a beard that was hardly in current fashion but was always seen on pictures of their great ancestor. “What are you doing here?”

“Are you deaf? I said I was on the way to my current assignment. I don’t need to tell you anything further.”

“I outrank you, learner,” she said, using the formal address for a junior mage.

“Yes, learned one,” he answered, using the formal address as well, laced with contempt. “If you must know, there have been reports of a strange object of considerable power in the Everfree Forest. The Archmagus felt it was important to find out if it is true and, if so, to bind it so that it isn’t misused.”

“Wonder why she didn’t tell me?” Star wondered.

“Because she clearly chose the right member of the Star Swirl family to do it, not Star Swirl the Foalsitter.”

“Whatever,” she answered. “So, what do you need me for?”

“I’m checking in with the senior mage in the area, as per regulations. Now that I’ve accomplished that, I’m going back to my hotel and find some young and impressionable filly to spend the night with. Then tomorrow I’ll head into the Forest and be out of your mane. As per the rules, you may call on me if there’s an emergency, learned one, but otherwise than that, have fun with your dead-end life.” And with that, he stepped out.

She watched him leave before saying, “Celestiadamn plothole.” But it didn’t matter what he thought: the fact of the matter was that she was the mage in charge of the region and when duty and responsibilities were called for…they gave the job to him instead of her, whose job it was.

Yup, “Star Swirl the Useless”, that’s me.

She went over to the kitchen to start dinner: an eggplant parmesan recipe that Sweetie had brought from human-Earth one time. I’ll add some rubies to Spines’ for flavor. She’s just a growing draconess, after all. At least she could do that much right, Star mused.

That night, Star Swirl dreamed.

She stood in the remains of Castle Everfree, the once-proud home of the alicorns prior to the Moonfall Civil War. She’d been there once on an academy field trip and never forgot its haunted, sad remains. Princess Luna had even been present during that field trip and she told them, with regret in her voice, of how Celestia had built the castle for them to live in while they reunited their mother’s former realm, and how she, while under possession by Nightmare Moon, had destroyed the place. She often came, as she did that day, to remind herself why she was the lesser of the sisters – because in the end, Celestia had defeated her and, even more critically, trained a mortal mare a thousand years later to finally defeat Nightmare Moon.

Except that’s not how the story went, a voice said behind her. To her horror, it was Nightmare Moon, the demonic alicorn. Star Swirl did not attempt to run away, but instead charged a spell, her shaped aura encircling her horn. So, not afraid, I see. Good. Not only brave, but wise – if you had attempted to run, it would go ill for you. Others have attempted to do so and they never awaken again.

“What do you want?” Star Swirl asked.

It has nothing to do with what I want, but instead what you desire, Star Swirl, the Nightmare stated. Because you are a competent mage in every way except respect, something you lack. And do you know why? Because though you bear the name Star Swirl, you do not have the expansive abilities he had, and so no one takes you seriously. Think back to your grandfather, the last to be named Star Swirl. What was he?

“He saved the town of Stalliongrad from a rampaging horde of manticores at the cost of his life. Even as their stingers filled him with the poison that turned him into stone he teleported dozens of manticores miles away, back to the Everfree. With his dying breath he hurled himself at the manticore alpha and turned that stone spell on the alpha as well, and now they’re both locked for eternity in stone, looking no more than two statues in the center of downtown Stalliongrad, in a place where he is honored.” She looked at the Nightmare. “I never knew him.”

Because he was powerful and thus respected. But you, you only want friendship and love. And that is weakness, the Nightmare said. Just as it was with Luna so long ago.

“I know the story: that she was jealous and she signed a demon’s bargain with you,” Star Swirl accused.

Is that so? The Nightmare laughed, a throaty sound rich with humor. Then the stories lie. And do you know why? Because Luna will not ever bear for the truth to come out: that she wished for just one moment to be anything less than inferior to Celestia. That her sister, so considered the pinnacle of everything that ponies ever wished for, thought nothing of Luna as anything other than an annoying foal she was saddled with. Observe.

The scene behind the Nightmare shifted, to one ages ago; Castle Everfree was no longer the ruined hulk it was, but the bright and shining citadel of Princess Celestia. Instead, nobleponies in clothing from a bygone age wandered the castle grounds, taking care of what was once the jewel of the Everfree Plains. And among those ponies was a small teenage mare, just barely out of fillydom, her coat a dark but not midnight-blue and her mane a cornflower-blue hue. “Sister!” the young Princess Luna called. “Where art thou?”

“I am here, little one,” a voice said as Celestia landed beside her sister. The princess of the sun’s mane and tail had begun to change from their original pink hue to the prismatic one Star Swirl was familiar with. “What vexes thee, sister?”

“It is my wish that I control the moon today, dearest sister,” Luna said. “I think that mine skill is ready for such a great undertaking.”

Celestia shook her head gently. “Nay, little one. Thine power is not quite ready for such a task. Thou must continue thine studies under thine teacher so that thou may one day take up thy task.”

“But I feel I am ready now, Tia!” Luna cried.

“My decision stands, Lu-lu,” Celestia said. “As thy princess and elder sister, what I command is law, is it not?”

“Yes, your majesty,” Luna said, chastened.

“Good. Now off to studies with thee; I understand Master Star Swirl plans a lecture on astral orbits and such knowledge he imparts to thee will be necessary for thine future station.” And with that, Celestia walked off, leaving the frustrated younger alicorn to her anger.

“Luna wasn’t originally in charge of the moon?” Star Swirl asked.

How else could Celestia handle both sun and moon in Luna’s absence were she not already skilled with such a task? Nightmare replied. In any case, Luna dealt with hundreds of years of such spurning before I interceded. And I will admit: I erred.

“You erred?”

The Nightmare smiled. Did you know that people once knew me as a trickster, a funmaker? But then I made the error of handing my power to an angry young teen. And with it, she tore the world apart using my name and guise and was forced into exile by Celestia, who I might add, was nearly killed by her beloved sister. And sadly, I went along for the trip unwillingly, unable to plead my case. The smile disappeared as she said, Luna has learned from her mistakes, but to admit them would be to admit her failure, something Celestia would not tolerate. And that is why I have been, so to speak, “demonized”.

“Something sounds very wrong about this,” Star Swirl mused.

How clever of you to have figured it out! Nightmare said in a congratulatory tone. It is clear that you understand that power must be used judiciously. My congratulations.

“No, I mean, why didn’t yo—”

—detach myself from Luna, you ask? A fair question. The truth was, the Nightmare said, blushing, I was lonely, and the first pony that offered me her hoof in friendship I grew fond for and – I must admit – fell in love with. Surely you’ve fallen for somepony you can never have before? Star Swirl did not answer, and Nightmare continued. Then you understand my pain. Thank you, I appreciate it, which is why I offer you the same chance I offered Luna – though I won’t be fooled again, I will not.

“You offer me the demon’s bargain?”

Please, do not call it that – it offends me, as if I am some sort of evil monster. Call it an agreement between partners, if you will. Nightmare Moon’s eyes reflected a kind understanding in them that Star Swirl had somehow missed. My offer is that I lend you my power – temporarily, just long enough to make a display that would earn you your due respect, and in kind you will convince Princess Luna to tell the truth about me and our relationship to her sister. While I have nothing against Luna, I no longer love her and will not stand for my good name to be besmirched by her.

“I’m not sure that’s wise,” Star Swirl replied. “There’s not much I would do with that power—”

“—except to win my heart,” another pony said behind her; Star Swirl turned to see Sweetie standing there, her tail arched seductively and desire in her eyes. “You know I’ve always wanted you, Star, but I just can’t leave Pip unless I’m sure you want me.” Sweetie laid kisses down Star’s neck and curled her tail around one of the younger unicorn’s hindlegs. “Perhaps…a suitable display of ability would make Pip see that I’m not destined to be his special somepony?” Sweetie kissed Star full on the mouth and it was electric, nothing Star had ever felt before…

…and just like that, it was gone. Star wheeled to snarl at the Nightmare for messing with her mind, but the Nightmare lay there on the ground before her, a sad look in her eyes. That wasn’t my doing, Star. Sometimes dreams reach across the Dreamlands and affect other dreamers. What you saw was the truth in Sweetie’s heart. She is only with Pip while she waits for you to prove yourself as a worthy mate. And I can help you with that – I know the pain when your love is spurned.

Star was about to say something further when Nightmare placed a gentle wing on her mouth. Think about it – you needn’t say anything now. But if I were you and I had the chance to win my heart’s desire? I would. Love is the strongest magic there is, and once you have that, that is true power. With that, the Nightmare brushed her wing across Star’s face…

…and Star awoke to Spines’ shouting. “Star, wake up! We just got a priority message!” The draconess bounced up and down on the bed, trying to get her attention.

“I’m up, I’m up!” Star shouted. “And aren’t you supposed to be in school today?”

“No, it’s a Saturday,” Spines replied. “And here – courtesy of the Vomit Express.”

“Spines, that’s a disgusting thing to say!” the unicorn scolded. Though technically true, she added silently as she took the message into her TK and read:

Mage Star Swirl,

We have received a distress flare from Mage Black Star in the vicinity of the Everfree Forest. You are tasked with finding and rescuing Mage Black Star soonest and report back to us your findings.

Sincerely,
- Raspberry Blast
Vicemagus

Star Swirl jumped out of bed, only catching the time on the clock. Six in the morning? Don’t tell me he…. She shook her head as she rushed downstairs; if he sent a distress flare, then he must’ve headed straight into the Forest after he left instead of waiting for the morning! Some of the nastiest creatures wandered through the forest at night, enough so that nopony dared to brave even the forest edge after sunset.

She raced out the door, heading for the main trail into the forest. Black Star might be a total jerk, but he was family and a mage – and didn’t deserve whatever fate a monster had in store for him. Well, not entirely.

It was almost night time when she found him. She’d gone well into the Everfree Forest, deeper than anypony ever had before, when she sensed his power. She also noticed something else: cobwebs.

Blackie, you fool, she thought. Walked right into an attercop’s nest, didn’t you? The giant spiders were dangerous, so much so that manticores, hydras and even the fearsome ursa major stayed clear of them. She remembered as a child about the time that a clutch of baby attercops had hatched and wandered into the town of Forest Edge, and it had taken several mages to stop them; two mages had died, including her uncle Wandering Star – Black Star’s father.

The baby attercops are the size of an adult stallion, Star noted from her studies, and the adults are monsters. What kind of insanity made Twilight think a single mage of support rank would be be able to handle this? If I’d been the Archmagus, someone of Sweetie’s rank would be the very least I would have sent! But she didn’t have time to think about that right now; Black Star’s life hung by a thread – of spider silk, no less – and if the attercop got its claws on whatever he’d been sent in to get, who knows how much more exponentially dangerous the situation would become. Summoning as many pre-made balls of fire as she could, she was about to go in when a thought suddenly came to her. Within seconds, she sent a note off to the local Army garrison on the other side of Ponyville, with instructions to the base commander to fire missiles into the area should he not hear back from her by the morning. An attack by a magically-boosted adult attercop would be catastrophic.

With that, she wandered into the nest, casting an additional spell to prevent her from sticking to the sticky gossamer of the thick, ropy spiderwebs that made up the nest. She moved in slowly and carefully, the fire orbs moving around her body like electrons in an atomic orbit. As she passed through she noticed countless bones of unlucky victims, from manticores to cockatrices to an unlucky pony to a…wait, is that a changeling exoskeleton? Either way, something was feeding in here and it unnerved her.

Still, she moved on, deeper into the nest, well beyond the entrance and thus any chance of easy escape. As she went deeper, the bones and carcasses increased in number, until she found several newly-created traps, the webbing still glistening with wetness as it had yet to dry and fully solidify. Her horn flared with her galactic aura and several galaxies formed fire arrows, rocketing towards the moving shapes, burning away the webbing, and revealing those imprisoned. Most of them were creatures: a cockatrice, a baby hydra and an owlbear cub; the creatures seemed to be grateful for her act and instinctively raced away towards the exit. But it was the last one, a black unicorn, barely breathing, that concerned her.

“Blackie,” she whispered, “It’s Star. I’m here to get you out.”

He looked at her, his eyes glazed. She immediately checked for bites or puncture wounds or the like; had he been injected with venom, and if so, how in Tartarus was he still alive? “Run, Star. Leave me be. She’s going to get you if she sees you here!” he gasped.

“No. You’re a stubborn son of a donkey but you’re still family. We’re getting out of here together,” she said, as her power lit up so she could teleport the both of them…

…only to have it fail. “What happened?”

“Anti-teleport spell,” he whispered. “Don’t you think I tried that myself? She cast an anti-teleport spell! Get out of here!”

“Wait, hold on – she cast a spell? Attercops can’t do that unle—” There was a sudden ear-splitting shriek that erupted behind her; Star turned around and stared at the most terrifying thing she’d ever seen in her life.

The attercop stared at her and said in a screechy voice, “You dare enter my domain and steal my food?”

“This is a pony I’ve come to rescue and I shall thwart you!” Star shouted. “I am Star Swirl, Pony Mage, and I do not fear you, creature!” Her orbs of fire circled faster as she moved in front of Black Star to protect him. “Surrender and I w—”

The attercop laughed, a booming screech that sounded like metal tearing. “You are Star Swirl? You?” The attercop raised a single leg and then slammed it down on the earth, jolting the ground and causing Star to almost lose her balance. “You claim to be Star Swirl? I knew Star Swirl, he of the beard and the amazing power. You are but a candlelight compared to the sun of his power. You are but a novice in comparison. I fear Star Swirl – I do not fear you.” Venom dripped down the length of its fangs, falling to the ground, scorching the earth where it hit. “I am Queen Arctosa, queen mother of all attercops. And you will be nothing more than an appetizer.”

Star tried to keep her terror in check. This was the demon spider my ancestor fought to defeat before her forces destroyed Unicornia! She still lives?

“Star, get out of here!” Black Star begged. “Let me die! Run away!”

Star did the only thing she could do: she focused and, as one, her orbs blasted forward, hitting Arctosa’s face. The spider queen roared, more from surprise than pain, giving time for Star to charge the next round of spells. Unfortunately for Star, Arctosa reacted faster and spat two massive gobs of webbing at the unicorn. Star burned the first one away easily but was hit by the second one, slammed back into Black Star and stuck next to him.

“And this is why I do not fear you, whelp,” Arctosa said as she moved forward, skittering closer with each step. “You are no Star Swirl, and you never were.” The creature raised its fangs, ready to bite her, and said, “And you never will be anything else – ever again.”

Star looked on in terror. She’d failed. I’m no Star Swirl, she thought. I’m not even worthy to be a mage.

“GET AWAY FROM HER!”

The room exploded in amethyst power and Arctosa found herself thrown back violently by a massive column of purpure energy. Star heard the command and opened her eyes, looking at the figure standing there, eyes burning with power and determination in her heart.

Sweetie Belle.

“You will stand down now, Arctosa,” the senior mage commanded, “or you will learn what it is to cross the Mage Guild!” The spider queen jumped back to its feet and spat a massive glob at the mage. Sweetie never moved as it impacted – and was torn to shreds as it hit her shield. She then summoned a second blast, pinning the creature to the wall painfully.

“Arctosa, would-be queen of the attercops…or should I call you by your true name, Mesothelae? Last of the great attercops, nothing more than a duchess in comparative power and certainly no match for a mage – and most certainly not the legendary queen destroyed by Star Swirl the Bearded so long ago.” Sweetie strolled over and looked at the spider as it thrashed on the wall, now very much afraid of the being it faced. “This is your only warning: keep to this range of the Everfree and this range only. Should we find any other ponies in your clutches ever again, you will see the true power of ponies – and I am nothing compared to my betters.” She walked over to the fallen ponies, burning away their bonds with a quick flame spell. Then as they were free, Sweetie nullified the anti-teleport spell and the trio safely blinked away.

The moment the trio materialized in the mage office, Star was practically tackled by a sobbing Spines, worried sick about Star. She instinctively nuzzled the baby dragon, saying in maternal tones, “I’m okay, Spines, I’m okay.”

Sweetie Belle placed a glowing blue horn on Black Star, removing the venom from his body before saying, “He’s all yours, Potato Chip.” Star turned to see the head of the Guild Investigations Division, slapping a disabling spell on Black Star, and reading him his rights.

“Sweetie – how did you…?” Star began.

The older unicorn smiled. “I am always watching out for my former apprentice and dearest friend. You nearly died in there and it would have been one more crime to your cousin’s charges.”

“One more crime?”

“I…lied,” he said, looking at her with shame. “I wasn’t given orders to secure any object; I went in there, hearing rumors of an amulet that would give me the powers of an alicorn so that I could become the rightful Star Swirl. But I was wrong – you proved me wrong. You didn’t run when you could have, and probably should have abandoned me. You’re a better Star Swirl than I’ll ever be.”

“Get him out of here, PC,” Sweetie said.

“You’re the boss,” Potato Chip replied, teleporting away with his prisoner, leaving Sweetie, Star and Spines in the treehome.

“I’m sorry, Sweetie. I wasn’t strong enough,” Star moaned, but suddenly found herself nuzzled by her heart’s desire.

“You’re good enough: you have the true heart of a mage, and someday you’ll be as incredible as your ancestor or Twilight,” Sweetie promised. “I know you will.”

Star turned and buried herself in Sweetie’s mane, mumbling something that Sweetie could have sworn was I want you, Sweetie.

“Sorry, Star, did you say something?” the older unicorn asked, not sure if she heard her friend right.

“I said I want to be like you, Sweetie,” Star said, covering her tracks. “You’re brave and strong and—”

“—and flighty and vapid,” Sweetie laughed. “Ask Scoots or Bloomie for the dirt sometime. But you’ve already achieved a status that even I have yet to accomplish.”

“What’s that?”

Sweetie floated Spines over to Star Swirl, the two embracing. “You already know, Star. You already know,” she said, embracing both younger females.

But even as she held Spines in her forelegs, Star wasn’t satisfied. At this rate, she would always have Sweetie’s friendship…but never her love.

That night, asleep with Sweetie staying over and both sharing the bed, Star Swirl dreamed.

Well, always a bridesmare, I presume? Nightmare asked Star. So close and yet so far. You could just taste her.

“Is the offer still open?” Star asked, knowing she had to make a choice.

Well, then, the Nightmare mused, are you willing to use my powers to gain your truest love? Are you willing to perform your part of the bargain as well? Are you willing to foreswear me as your liegelady in order to gain access to my talents?

For Star, there was no hesitation. “My answer is….”

COMBS: Cause of Minty's Blues - Sandalwood

December 21, 2046
Fillydelphia

The city was decked out in winter finery, snow falling down from the sky. Due to this year’s weather plan, this would be the only snowfall of this winter season, as the previous year had too much and the ground had absorbed too much water, making things muddy. The majority of the year would be mostly cold and snowless until the official Winter Wrap-up, but for now there was a field of fine white falling from the snowmakers above onto the ground just in time for Hearths Warming Eve and Day.

On the corner of Celestia’s Way and Trotsbury Avenue was a candy shop, the Toffee Tot. The candy store had been there for generations and was currently owned by one Toffee Crunch and his wife, Minty. The two had made the candy shop the talk of the town to the point that other known and established companies such as Mildbon’s and international giants like Godiva had difficulty attracting clientele. Even now, business was booming.

Down in the basement where they stored all the supplies, Toffee ran around like crazy, wishing he was a unicorn with magic to be able to carry multiple boxes at once. Or maybe a pegasus, who could also carry multiple boxes at once since their magic made things weightless. Or…wait, I am an earth pony. He sat down, trying to relax. I always get like this during the holiday season. Maybe it’s time to look for an apprentice?

In any case, I think I’ve earned a break, he thought to himself. Minty was minding the store right now and she was better at handling customers than he was. Plus, with her filly-esque youth and good looks that she got from her mother, Minty was a charmer that always got stallions walking into the store to buy more than what they originally planned. It was good for business and she liked being flirty, so Toffee was okay with it.

As for the other resident in the house, Gumdrop was up in the home part of the building, working on her costume for her Hearths Warming Eve school play – she was playing the part of one of the windigos. He was proud of his little filly and her determination at such a young age to become an actress; though she was still too young to earn her cutie mark, it would not surprise him if when the time came, hers would be related to acting.

With that, he reached over for a book he’d bought recently. It was a second book in a series that had so far enraptured him, and even though it was by a human author and the protagonists were all human, he found himself completely engrossed. That was one thing about reading books – that it if was good enough, it took your imagination to places you never expected it to transverse. A love of books seemed to be pretty much standard for most, if not all, sapient species, and judging by the fact that Hollywood was making a Daring Do movie next year, the culture went in both directions.

But for the moment, he’d almost completely finished the book, and Perfect Binding, the proprietor of the local bookstore, said they had the third and fourth books in the series expected in this week. The fifth book in the series was due on the shelves sometime next year, and Toffee hoped that he could get it on release day – that would be completely aweso—

“Toffee, hon?” The voice that wafted in from the other side was sweet and light, a dulcet tone that seemed more to sing than to speak. That was normal for those in her family, he noted, and one of the things he so very much loved about her. Minty, his wife, the love of his life, the mother of his filly.

“Over here, sweetheart,” he called out, waving his foreleg in the air. “Just taking a breather from moving the boxes around.”

“Well, you be careful,” she said, walking over and kissing him. “I wouldn’t want the stallion of my dreams to injure himself.” The smile on her face was loving, and as Toffee watched his wife move, there was something about the mint-hued earth pony that enraptured him, just as much as the first day they’d met. From her peppermint-colored mane to her luscious eyes, there wasn’t a single thing he didn’t love about this mare that he’d chosen to spend every momen—

“WHAT…THE BUCK…IS THIS?”

Okay, maybe there was one thing he could live without: namely, her temper. It surfaced rarely – thankfully – but when it did, it was volcanic. He wasn’t really sure where she got it from; neither of her parents were like that, and her brother Elusive was even less so. Even still, there was no denying that when she got pissed, his wife could be an utter harridelle.

“It’s a book,” he deadpanned. Through the years of their marriage, he’d found out that backing down when she was angry wasn’t usually a good idea. Not that she was abusive – he’d never stand for that – but she usually took any attempts at placation as utter proof that she was right. It had actually been during an argument that she’d had with her cousin Rainbow Blitz that he’d discovered that going hoof-to-hoof with her made her back down that much faster. Then, after she calmed down, she’d think about it, realize she was in the wrong and apologize. That had worked well for their life, but now there were different issues to be had – like the beautiful little filly upstairs and her role in their lives.

Maybe it is time we discuss anger counseling, he thought briefly, then pushed that to the back of his mind. Better to discuss that with her when she was calm. Not now, not like this.

“I know that, you donkey,” she seethed, picking up the offending tome. “Why did you have to buy this one?” she accused, brandishing the paperback as if it were an unholy seal in need of exorcism.

“PB recommended it after I finished The Lord of the Rings, okay? I don’t recall you complaining about that one!”

“That’s different! That one wasn’t written by some…tail-lifter!”

Toffee rolled his eyes. “Uh, Minty, the author is human, and in case you forgot…humans don’t have tails.”

“DJ Martinez isn’t human, as much as that harridelle wants to be,” Minty snarled in sober, venomous tones, her eyes narrowing into raging pinpricks. At the sound of that, the hairs on the back of Toffee’s mane rose: this wasn’t like Minty’s usual outbursts. She was infuriated this time, far more than he’d ever known her to be. “This…this…thing…. AAARRRGH!” With more anger than effort, Minty tore the sizable book into pieces, throwing them on the ground and stomping on them as though she was out to murder the pages. “DIE, DO YOU HEAR ME?” she screamed at the paper beneath her hooves. “JUST DIE AND STAY OUT OF MY LIFE!”

Suddenly Toffee was very worried. This wasn’t like Minty, not like he’d ever seen her. She was out of control, lost in a hatred he’d never known her to be in before. “Minty,” he spoke, “I….” His words suddenly died as she gave him a suddenly-murderous gaze. It wasn’t like the supposed Stare Minty’s aunt Fluttershy possessed, but it was enough for him to suddenly pause in his tracks.

“DON’T YOU EVER BUY ANYTHING WITH HER NAME ON IT, DO YOU HEAR ME?” the mare roared. “I WON’T LET HER RUIN YOU, TOO!” Suddenly and just as weirdly, she collapsed into his mane, her voice broken and her eyes suddenly tearing. “I won’t let her take you from me, too,” she sobbed, her emotions suddenly on whiplash. “If I lose you and Gumdrop…I….” She began bawling in earnest, leaving Toffee to console his wife and wonder what the heck had just happened.

The unicorn looked at Toffee, his face a professional smile. “I’m sure it’s just overwork, Mr. Crunch. Earth ponies are the hardiest of us all, but even you need breaks once in a while.” The doctor looked at the closed door of the bedroom where Minty was asleep. “I gave her a sedative to let her sleep better, and I’ll have the nurse come by in the morning with a prescription. While I understand this is one of the busiest seasons of the year for your business, you may have to shut down early for your wife’s sake.”

Toffee nodded. “Thanks again, Doc.”

The unicorn nodded. “Well, if there’s nothing else, I’ll be seeing you. Unfortunately, this time of year’s busy for me, too.” Toffee let the unicorn out of his home, then debated if he should go down to Rosewood’s to pick up Gumdrop, who was staying with the florist while the doctor was here.

Well, maybe later. I’ll have to think of some way to explain what happened, the earth pony stallion mused. I know Gumdrop will be—

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Since the store was already closed, it was likely a personal visitor; maybe Rosewood decided to bring Gumdrop back early and offer some advice; at least, Toffee knew he could use some at the moment. He then opened the door, finding someone unexpected standing there.

“Hello, Toffee. Mind if’n Ah come in?” Standing there at the door was another member of Minty’s sizable family, in this case, one of her younger aunts – Apple Bloom.

“Oh, hello, Apple Bloom. What brings you here?”

The pony smiled. “Site surveyin’,” she drawled in that accent that seemed to be indicative of the Apple family bloodline. “The Ministry of D’fense’s lookin’ at expandin’ th’ naval base here t’ accommodate an aircraft carrier, an’ since it’s a facility issue, Ministry of Public Works haz t’ git involved. Since Ah’m th’ senior engineer, was just best if’n Ah took a peek mahself. ‘Sides, figured Ah’d arrive early fer Gumdrop’s play.” The yellow mare smiled wistfully; Toffee remembered that she’d miscarried badly once and it had cost her the ability to have foals, so those in the family were important to her.

“Well, I’m sure Gumdrop will be glad to see you here. She’s at a friend’s house right now,” Toffee explained.

Apple Bloom nodded, her gray Stetson bobbing in time with her head. “An’ Minty? Guessin’ she’s in th’ kitchen, workin’ on candymakin’?”

“Uh, well….” Toffee began, and he didn’t have to get far before the older earth pony gave him a sad, knowing gaze.

“Did Ah come at a bad time?” Apple Bloom asked sincerely. “If it’s a problem, Ah c’n just catch the next train back t’ Canterlot.”

Toffee shook his head. “No, please don’t. Minty would be crushed if she knew you left,” the stallion said sincerely. “Besides, I…I could use some advice myself, if you don’t mind.” Before she could respond, Toffee went into a long conversation about everything that had happened earlier in the day. The older pony sat and listened, and as she did, a sad and guilty look came onto her face.

Toffee noticed that as he finished his explanation. “From the look on your face, I guess you know something about this.”
Apple Bloom nodded. “Minty isn’t fibbin’ – DJ is her sister, ‘cept that neither Rarity nor Minty want anythin’ to do with her. It’s a long, sad tale in our family, Toffee, an’ Ah’m not surprised y’ didn’t know.”

“What happened? I…I mean, I knew there was something that happened a couple of decades ago involving the Elements, but…to be honest, I never really paid much attention to the news when I was younger,” Toffee stated, surprised to suddenly find out that his wife had an older sister, one both she and her mother refused to admit existed. For that matter, both Elusive and Silversteel hadn’t mentioned her either, and both stallions were very much on good terms with Toffee. Had whatever occurred between Minty and her sister been so bad that the older sibling moved to human-Earth and assumed a human life there?

“Is there anythin’ t’ drink?” the earth pony asked. “Somethin’ stiff, preferably. We’re both gunna need it.”

Placed into sleep by the sedative, Minty dreamed.

Standing in a strange environment where the sky was not quite black and the earth not quite gray, she was surrounded by strange creatures that rubbed and bumped against her. It took her a few moments to notice that these muted, pallid creatures were ponies…and that they were faceless, not unlike the old Slendermane or Marejina ghost stories of her youth. Strangely enough, this didn’t scare her, but instead made her curious as to why all these creatures were milling around in this location.

These ‘unponies’ – yeah, that’s what she’d call them for now; it’d be easier to think of them that way – seemed to be minding their own business, merely jostling along as they moved around, headed to wherever they were going from wherever they came from. In fact, it was almost as if they didn’t notice she was here at all, here and her differences.

How could they not? Aside from her own particular talents – she’d been on quite a few talkshows and cooking segments – she was also known as the daughter of Rarity. She’d broken many a heart, courted by every eligible stallion once she was of age, and even now and she’d occasionally get a few propositions, even though she was happily married to Toffee, had Gumdrop, and were hoping for another foal. Truthfully, it was nice having the attention, knowing that she still had her beautiful looks and the sleek form that caught many a pony’s attention.

…until now, that is. As the unponies continued past her, paying no heed to her at all, anger welled up in her again. Why weren’t they paying any attention to her? She was different from them! She might not be better – her mother had always drilled that into her – but she was different, special! How could they not see that?

Because they don’t have eyes for you, a voice said behind her. Minty turned around to find herself staring at the Nightmare, the demonic alicorn that had done something unspeakable to her aunt Luna so long ago, something so bad that it was pretty much a taboo topic in the family. But one thing she knew: the Nightmare was bad news, and if she had any common sense, she would head out the door immediately. And yet….

The Nightmare smiled, white teeth ending in white fangs. Smart of you to not run, she said. Many a pony wouldn’t be as brave and they foolishly head away from me. They never awake again. But that is not your problem, I take it?

“Is there something you want from me, Nightmare?” Minty said in haughty tones, hoping her aunt was paying enough attention in case she got into trouble.

The black alicorn laughed. Such pointless bravery. Stupid, but commendable. It seems that the younger of Rarity’s daughters is the smart one.

“You mean the only,” Minty corrected.

Oh, please – I am not a foal who stands here to be lectured to. I know your family’s history, Minty. I know you are the second foal of your parents, and the whole reason for your birth was to still the pain in your mother’s heart.

“That’s a lie!” Minty snarled. “Mother and Father had me because it was time, they said – they would have had me even if that harridelle hadn’t run off to the human world!”

Such anger, little one, the Nightmare replied. Such viciousness is not the sign of somepony comfortable in the truth. Perhaps you know all is a lie after all and you gird that agony with the steel of hatred? In any case, steel is fragile and easily bent by words of veracity. The black alicorn waved a wing, and the unponies were gone.

Instead, she was treated to a scene of young ponies flocking in front of a store. Voices could be heard saying things like “Wow, what a talent!”, “Such incredible work!” and other laudatory terms. It wasn’t until a few humans walked by that Minty suddenly realized that this wasn’t a place in Equestria, or even Alter-Earth, but a place she’d never been before…human-Earth.

“She’s so inspiring!” a young pony lisped even as a second one said, “Here she comes!” Minty turned and saw several girls (that was the term for young human females, right?) and fillies walking down the street, rushing towards an exit where a bunch of adults were coming out of the store. The first were big, burly humans dressed in business suits. The second group, to her surprise, were her aunts Twilight and Sweetie Belle. While Minty and her aunts weren’t on the best of terms since their betrayal of the family, she did care about them, though not as much as she used to.

“Well, come on out and meet your adoring fans!” Sweetie said as she turned towards the opening, motioning with a foreleg for somepony – or someone – to come out. Meanwhile, the girls and fillies continued to swirl around them, and there was something unsettling about the whole thing, something that struck Minty as very, very wrong. She turned to leave, but instead the Nightmare looked at her, shaking her head.

A roar of cheers erupted behind her and Minty turned to see something that would ever give her nightmares. There, walking foreleg and foreleg, happy as a pair of clams, was her mother…and the harridelle.

“Sandalwood….” The epithet came out of Minty’s mouth, bilious and raging. Minty could feel her blood roiling within her, and she longed to reach out and murder the human-wannabe.

Didn’t you know? Oh, wait…your mother didn’t tell you, did she? Nightmare asked, a curiously concerned look in her eyes.

“I..I can’t…I don’t believe this!” Minty said, her stomach roiling as…her mother and the harridelle…they were laughing? Smiling? None of this made sense. Twilight and Sweetie joined the other and soon enough the four mares were hugging, happy as could be.

I guess you didn’t know, did you? Your mother and Sandalwood…they made up a few years ago. Apparently Sandalwood was able to give them something that you never could – a grandson, the demonic alicorn said. Now, yes, I’m sure that you and your husband love your foal and I’m sure your parents do as well, but…from what I understand, grandparents want colts. It’s just how things are.

“That’s a lie!” Minty shouted, wheeling to look at the Nightmare. “I know my mother! She hates the human world, and wouldn’t be here! You’re faking it!”

Is that why her personal secretary is a human woman, then? Nightmare countered. I don’t think you know your mother as well as you think you do. If you did, you would have seen this coming.

Minty watched as Rarity and Sandalwood looked at each other, and a part of her both burned and yearned for that.

“DJ, I’m glad we’ve had this time together,” Rarity said, smiling. “New York City is a beautiful town – though it’s missing a certain…flair…that Manehattan has. But still, a wonderful place.”

Sandalwood nodded. “You should see Paris or Milan sometime. Also beautiful fashion capitals of our world. And I think your fashions would do great here.”

Sweetie looked at her sister and her niece, seeing the pair get along. “Well, maybe we can get the chance to see that. I know Elusive has told me he’s interested in going to Milan.”

Minty looked, shocked. “But Elusive would never say that! I know my little brother and he’s a pony true and true!”

Is that so? the Nightmare replied, a soft look crossing her face. Perhaps you should watch more.

“Don’t forget about us!” Minty froze as she heard that voice. She turned around, her eyes wide in shock, and there was Elusive, coming out of the doorway, holding a little filly by the hand. And as she saw who the filly was, she screamed.

“No…. Nononononono!” Minty dived towards Gumdrop, but passed through her as if she wasn’t there. Instead, the filly, upright and wearing a human-style dress, raced over towards Sandalwood, hugging her. “Aunt DJ! I love you!”

Sandalwood felt a maternal pride as she bent down to embrace the young foal. “Awww, Gumdrop, that’s so sweet of you! Well, things are going to be fun, okay?”

“Really?” the filly said, her eyes radiating with hope.

“I promise,” Sandalwood said in earnest tones.

A distance away, Elusive stood next to his mother and aunts. “Mother, are you sure this is a good idea?”

It was Twilight who spoke. “You’re about to be a father, Elusive, while DJ’s got two other kids who are old enough. I don’t think she and Mike would have a problem raising Gumdrop.”

Minty’s eyes widened in shock at those words. “What…what the buck is going on?”

I don’t know if you’ll want to hear this, Nightmare said. Minty looked at the demonic alicorn, and suddenly, she looked more like Luna than a monster. There was a concern in her eyes that shone, one that Minty tried to comprehend. I know what pain and sorrow is, Minty. I’d spare you this truth, this time to come.

“These lies?”

No, these aren’t lies. This is the future. You see…I’m an alicorn. I can show you many things. Like this. The scene shifted and something looked far more tropical. Sitting on a beach, dressed in human clothing and… Minty shivered uncontrollably, her emotions caroming from distraught to enraged to terrified and back.

“Why…why…but that’s….that’s my husband!” Minty gasped, looking at the earth stallion as he was kissing a human woman. Toffee seemed happy, smiling in a way she’d never seen him.

That was your husband, the Nightmare replied. After the incident, he left for some place on human-Earth called Thailand. Gave up all rights to your daughter, said he never wanted to see her again after what happened.

“What happened?”

You did. Rain began to fall, and the world became gray. In the distance, there were three figures. One of them was infuriated; the second was holding the third…who looked unnaturally still. As they approached, it became clear the three were all ponies – and that the first had done incalculable harm to the third. And as they came closer…

“WHY?” A horrific scream peeled through the air and at first Minty thought she’d said it. A second later she realized she didn’t. And then she saw what happened.

And then joined the screams of horror.

Sandalwood cradled her dead cousin in her arms, sobbing into the mangled mess that had been Cinnamon Star. Looming above both mares was Minty, an inequine look in her eyes.

“Why?” Sandalwood roiled. “Why did you kill her?”

An unearthly grin came onto the face of the deranged celeste-hued pony; the Minty standing next to the Nightmare shuddered in horror at what supposed to be her. “I had to,” the insane Minty said, her face a look of glee. “I had to protect her from you, Sandalwood. She was becoming human just like you. I had to protect her because I loved her.”

“YOU KILLED HER!” Sandalwood roared, cradling the dead pegasus.

“I saved her – from you.”

Minty turned and vomited. Cinnamon was...the pegasus was like a little sister to her. And Minty would never lift a hoof to st—

It happened when Sandalwood returned to Equestria, the Nightmare said. Cinnamon and she got close and Cinnamon started to convince the rest of your cousins that the earth pony was living the right way. You didn’t agree…so you killed her. A bit extreme, and very sad, if you ask me.

“But I would never—!” Minty gasped.

But you will. And your husband will spurn you in jail. And Gumdrop will grow up amongst humanity.

The scene shifted once more, and Gumdrop, now an adult, sat on a bench somewhere. At her side was a human male her age. The two kissed and it made Minty’s stomach squirm, all thoughts of how beautiful Gumdrop had become now suddenly lost.

“So, Gumdrop’s your real name?” the man asked her.

The mare laughed softly. “Yeah, but I like the one Mom gave me. ‘Sarah’ just fits me better, you know?”

“But I thought your mom grew up here on our Earth?”

“Well, yeah,” the pony now calling herself Sarah responded. “Honestly, my parents? They’re not really my parents – they’re my aunt and uncle, but they adopted me after my real mother went to prison for murdering her cousin. Mom…well, then she was just Aunt DJ…promised me she’d always be there for me, and she and Uncle Mike were, even when they adopted me. As for my real mother, well…I don’t consider her that anymore. And I don’t know what happened to my birth father. Maybe she murdered him, too.”

Minty watched as the nightmare – with a small n – unfolded before her eyes. Sandalwood had gotten her hooves on her foal and turned Gumdrop against her. She’d turned their mother, their brother, their whole family against her. And she’d been accused of murdering one of the ponies she’d cared about most!

There is a way to change all of this, you know, the Nightmare responded. There is a way to stop all of this and prevent it from ever happening. I could lend you my power, give you the ability to change what is to come.

“And why would you do that?”

Because you are not the only one who’s ever been wronged. Do you know the truth about me and your aunts Celestia and Luna? Or only what they’ve told you? The black alicorn shifted slightly, looking as if wounded. Haven’t you ever known when someone was unfairly wronged, and is powerless to save themselves? I see that in you now, and I want to help.

“But you’re the Nightmare!”

Not always. Once I was…no, better than I not tell.

“Tell me what?”

Strangely, a tear fell from the eyes of the ebon alicorn. Celestia and Luna? They’re my daughters. My sister, Faust, stole them from me when they were foals, turned them against me. My sister demonized me, turned me into a liar and the epitome of evil. Why? Because I was born not as “pretty” as she. Is that fair, or right?

Minty looked at the creature before her and saw…truth? Was it true? Were the eldest of her aunts really the offspring of the creature before her?

I don’t expect you to believe me, the Nightmare said. Instead, let me prove it to you. Let me prove that I can help you, save you from what is about to befall you. Help you to defend yourself from your sister’s lies… just as I needed someone to protect me. You needn’t answer now. But please – think about it, I beseech you. If nothing else, do it for your foal.

The Nightmare passed a wing before Minty’s face…

Minty woke up to voices downstairs. One of them she knew was Toffee; the other, was Gumdrop. But the two other voices weren’t clear at first, and then…. Recognition suddenly hit and the mint-hued mare thundered down the stairs to see the voices’ owners. She immediately launched herself at the younger one.

“Um, hi, Minty,” Cinnamon said, blushing slightly as her older cousin embraced her. “I heard you were under the weather. Is everything okay? I mean, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“I’m just glad to see you’re okay,” Minty said, embracing the younger mare tightly.

“She won’t be if’n ya keep it up,” the second speaker said. “Now how ‘bout Ah get a hug?”

“Of course, Aunt Bloomie.” There was a second embrace and as if on instinct, Gumdrop went over and hugged her mother as well. Minty looked down at her daughter and said, “You’re going to be beautiful when you grow up, sunshine. But don’t call yourself Sarah, okay?”

“Why would I do that, Mommy?” Gumdrop asked. The two other mares and Toffee looked at each other in confusion.

“Look, Toffee,” Minty said, finally approaching her husband. “I’m—”

“I understand,” he said, giving her a soft kiss. “Apple Bloom told me everything. I wish you would have said something, though. I would have stayed clear, then. I’ll just have to go to the bookstore tomorrow and have PB order me The Belgariad. Been wanting to read David Eddings’ stuff anyway.”

“So what brings you in town?” Minty said, turning back to her relatives.

“Ah was showin’ up so Ah could see Gumdrop’s Hearths Warmin’ Eve play,” Apple Bloom responded.

“Mom asked me to come here early and make sure all the family’s reservations are set. Even Aunt Celestia and Aunt Luna will be here as well, though they can’t stay overnight.”

“Really?” Minty suddenly felt touched and shamed at the same time. Those dreams...Nightmare’s lies. They had to be lies, right?

Cinnamon nodded. “Oh!” She dug into the pocket of her pants and pulled out a small box. It was at this time that it dawned on Minty that Cinnamon was standing upright and wearing human-style clothing. “Gumdrop, I have something for you.”

The filly trotted over, curiosity in her eyes. “What is it?”

“It’s a musicube, a toy from human-Earth.” She set it down on the floor, then pressed the top. The thing began to strobe and a weird voice began to start singing, the pitch and tone fast and syncopated.

“Wow!” Gumdrop said, looking at the glowing box on the ground.

“It’s yours, okay?” Cinnamon said, and that earned a squee and a hug from the little filly. As Gumdrop enjoyed her new toy, Cinnamon turned to Minty and shrugged a slight apology. “A friend of mine at the tech center made them; he’s going to patent them and sell them to some toy company. Anyway, I got Gumdrop the AI Rap version. It’ll listen and learn from her and then rap out a series of words based on what she says to it and then the music will set based on that as well.”

“Is it dangerous?” Minty asked, saying to herself, Of course it has to be dangerous. It’s a human invention.

“I wouldn’t give her anything that was, I promise,” Cinnamon assured her cousin.

As Minty watched Gumdrop play with her new toy, for a brief moment she saw a flash of the future, of an adult Gumdrop, as humanized as Cinnamon was becoming, holding that same cube and laughing about how stupid her biological mother had been. Then as quick as it had started, things were back to normal.

“I guess I’ll go make dinner now,” Minty replied, departing before any offers of help or whatnot could be made.

Dinner turned out to be a subdued affair. Most of it was spent with a very excited filly eagerly trying to teach the musicube language, hearing it play back a beat and a rap, and then her joining along with it. By the time she was ready for bed, she was already harmonizing with the cube, singing along with it and creating a small arsenal of AI Rap songs.

“She’s learning quickly,” Cinnamon said with a smile on her face. “You should be proud, cousin.”

“Where did you get that thing?” Minty replied. “It’s weird.”

“It’s just a senior project my dormmate’s boyfriend is working on. He’s a robotics engineer and he’s really into music, so he thought there was an interesting way to—”

“When did you start wearing clothing? And walking human-style?”

“Minty, I go to school in California. There are nudity laws, even there. And you know it’s just good etiquette to walk like a human when there.”

“They don’t go natural when they’re here, or go on all fours.”

“Humans don’t have the same sort of build as we do, so it doesn’t make sense.” She looked at Minty curiously. “What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?”

“Hey, you’re my younger cousin, okay? I’m supposed to look out for you.”

Cinnamon sighed. “Minty…I’m almost a legal adult now by Equestriani standards. I am an adult by American ones. And as much as I appreciate and love you for looking out for me, I don’t need my hoof held anymore.”

Minty shook her head. “You don’t understand, Cinnamon. I’m just trying to pre—”

“Ah think yer a mite too worried about that, Minty. Y’know that things are different now.” Seated on a chair closest to the wall, Apple Bloom looked at the younger ponies and sighed before taking a drink of her cider. “Ah think maybe y’ should consider buryin’ th’ hatchet.”

“No. I can’t believe you’re even saying that, Aunt Bloomie!” The mint mare looked hurt. She’d always considered Apple Bloom to be one of those most in her corner, and now to hear this?

“‘T’s not about that, Minty. We’re all older now. Things have changed, an’ Ah’m sure yer sister ain’t th’ pony she was before. In fact, Ah know she ain’t. An’ if Sandalwood kin grow up, Ah know y’ can too.”

“And so what, I’m just supposed to accept it? I’m just supposed to let Cinnamon get turned into a tail-lifting harrid—”

“Is that what you really think of me?” The words suddenly cut like stone, and Minty suddenly realized she overstepped a boundary that she’d not seen before.

“Cinnamon, of course not. It’s just that….”

“I know – you think that I need to be protected, that I can’t look out for myself. But how am I supposed to grow up to be the mare that you, Mom and the rest want me to be if I don’t take those chances, Minty? I know you’ve always looked out for me and I can’t say enough how much I appreciate that. But I have to be my own mare now, for right or wrong. I’m sorry, Minty, but I don’t need you to protect me anymore.” Cinnamon got up and went and kissed both her aunt and then Minty on the cheek. “I’m going to get some sleep. I’ve got some homework for class that I need to do first thing in the morning before I help Gumdrop with her costume and then check the hotels. Goodnight.” Cinnamon immediately went to Gumdrop’s room, where she’d be sleeping the night.

“It’s hard watchin’ ‘em grow up, innit?” Apple Bloom asked as Minty watched her cousin’s retreating form. “It was just as hard watchin’ y’all do the same, believe me. But C’nnamon’s right, Ah reckon. Y’ should let her do what she needs t’, or else she’s not gonna be the mare she needs ta be.”

“But I….”

“Ah know.” Apple Bloom got up and patted her niece on the shoulder. “You’re just doin’ what y’ promised Luna. An’ Ah’m proud o’ ya fer that. But C’nnamon’s a grown mare now, an’ it’s her choice, fer good or bad.”

Back in her dreams, Minty looked for the Nightmare. She was in the crowd of the unponies again, but…this time it was different. This time they came nowhere near her, as if afraid of her, for some reason. Every time she came closer to one, they scurried away again, jittering in fright. Why were they running from her?

Because they sense your future now, the Nightmare’s voice rang out. Because they know the truth – you will kill your cousin because you want to protect her from humanity. But it isn’t really about humanity, is it?

“No. I see what it’s done to Sandalwood, what it’s turned her into. I don’t want that to happen to Cinnamon. She’s a good filly and to become the sort of tail-lifting freak that…. I don’t want that for her. Never.”

And you would kill her for that? The Nightmare’s question was clear.

“Of course not! Why do you think I’m coming here to you? I don’t know what’s going to go wrong, but I don’t want to hurt Cinnamon! I would never want that! I couldn’t face Aunt Fluttershy and Uncle Mac if I even thought that!” Minty looked agitated. “But I have to protect Cinnamon. Because that’s what I was told to do.”

Told to do?

“Yes. Just before Blitz was born, Aunt Luna made me promise I would look out for all my younger cousins. Because I was the oldest, they needed me to look out and protect them. And I won’t let them turn into the freak Sandalwood has become. I refuse to!”

Then you accept the use of my power? To accept me as your liegelady and to use my talents as you will?

Minty closed her eyes, then opened them again. For her family, there was no hesitation. “My answer is….”

Author's Note

Sorry, this took a lot longer to come out than I'd intended due to edits on the novel (that's going well, thanks!). You should see the newest rewrite of the next AAG chapter soon - and I mean it!

Thanks for sticking around.

COMBS: Champagne's Old Memories Become Stifling

December 29, 2046
Haymarket

The mare walked through the snow towards the small town. She’d do this alone, she said, and insisted on doing so by leaving her guards behind. Stopping in the city of Oatmaha, she then convinced her escorts via a sizable amount of bits and told them to enjoy their New Year’s Eve holiday on her. Based on the hotel’s bar – and in particular the copious amounts of cider and other alcohol they had there – the guards did so with little issue; any concerns of impropriety were squelched when she insisted she wouldn’t tell her husband and it’d be kept in confidentiality. With that in mind, the guards went to celebrate the holidays, leaving her to her own devices. Knowing the guards that she’d hoofpicked for this mission, they’d drink themselves into a stupor and be that way for at least a couple of days.

And now here she was, in the town of Haymarket, forty miles south of Oatmaha, almost in the exact center of the country. As she walked through the winter air, a few ponies turned their head and wondered if she really was who she appeared to be; a few thought to ask, but thought better of it. After all, Haymarket was a tiny town in the middle of nowhere and there would be no reason for somepony of her pedigree and import to come here.

Even still, she was present: Princess Champagne Dreams, wife of Prince Blueblood, spouse of the pony fourth in line to the Solar Throne. And she was dressed in winter finery, and unmistakably the alabaster unicorn with the wheat-hued hair. Walking past and nodding to a few more ponies that gave her double-takes as she moved on, she passed the majority of the town behind as she walked towards a somewhat-dilapidated log cabin just south of the town. None stopped her as she continued on, though that night a few of the townsponies would talk about their brush with royalty, or at least a mare who looked the part.

In any case, Champagne came to a stop just as the cabin became visible, but not so much that she could see the ponies who lived in it – the rustic, antiquated individuals that she was so inexorably tied to.

Time to do this, she told herself. She hated this part; she swore several times each year that she’d never come back – and yet she always did. She just as much swore that she’d reconcile her past and present, but…that would never happen, could never occur. Far easier to pretend to continue the lie that was her life than to even try. Yet every year she did, and every year she failed at this bucephalean task.

And yet here I go again, she thought. I wonder if this year will be any different? With a flicker of red, Champagne’s horn powered with magic, and her body began to glow…

…and a second later, the white unicorn was replaced by a very different mare, one of orange coat and red-and-yellow mane and tail, with teal eyes instead of beige and a solar flare cutie mark instead of a champagne flute. Champagne Dreams was now gone – correction; she was now her true self, the pony she’d been born as: Sunset Shimmer.

Still wearing her regal finery, Sunset headed towards her family home, ready for another year of estrangement and disappointment.

She didn’t get far: as she approached the cabin, there was the sound of chopping. A few more feet revealed a stallion, deep yellow in color with a red-and-orange mane and a solar corona for a cutie mark. It was her younger brother, Shining Sunrise, and as expected he was chopping wood for the fireplace.

She hadn’t taken so much as taken a further step when the stallion stopped chopping and without looking at her, said in a rough voice, “Get out of here. You don’t belong here anymore.”

“Sunrise,” she spoke, her voice soft.

He turned on her and the look in his eyes would kill if it could. “Didn’t you hear me? Go away! Or haven’t you done enough damage, being the dark horse of the family? Nobody wants you here!”

“Sunrise…I didn’t mean t—”

“Didn’t mean to what, you liar? You ruined my life!” he snarled. “Everything I worked for was ruined because of you! But of course, you don’t care!”

That was enough for her. “I do care!” she cried back. “Why do you think I’m here?” Using her magic, she produced a huge bag of bits. “Here – I even brought mo—”

“Take your dirty money, and leave!” Sunrise yelled. “We don’t want it!”

“It’s not dirty – it came from my financial assets,” Sunset answered tersely, though with a tinge of sadness.

“You probably mean your latest con scheme, you tail-lifting harridelle!”

“Sunrise!” an aged voice called out, “that’s no way to talk to your sister.” Standing at the door was an aged mare, sagging coat of light yellow and a mane that had once been bright white but now had faded into gray. Sunshine Day, their mother and the matriarch of the household, probably one of the most forgiving ponies Sunset had ever known. “Sunset, honey, c’mon in. It’s good to see you again!”

“Thanks, Mom,” Sunset gushed. The mare walked past her brother, who muttered under his breath, “Nice cloak and saddle. Wonder where you stole them from.”

“I’m not going to justify that with an answer,” she told her brother. “Why can’t you just let bygones be bygones?”

“So says the mare who got me kicked out of the Guard,” he hissed. “Mom might have forgiven you, but I haven’t…and Dad never will.” She flinched at his words; after all these years, the wounds had yet to heal and she knew that. It was part of a past she constantly thought she’d gotten over, but always seemed to be just one step short of freedom.

Or maybe just when I’m Champagne I’m free of all this, she thought to herself.

As she entered the ramshackle home, it wrenched her heart to see how much things had changed. Their family had always lived a modest lifestyle, but it looked as though things had taken a turn for the worse: furniture was now broken from age, rugs were worn and the happy house of her bygone years was as far lost to her as her youth.

“Mom, what…?” Sunset began.

Sunshine shook her head. “After your father’s accident, we couldn’t keep up. Since his…return…from the Guard, Sunrise has tried to keep the family business going, but I’m just an old mare now and can’t work like I used to. That, and with competition from human companies, we just can’t keep up anymore. Business is all about washed up now, and foreign firms like Georgia-Pacific and CMKC Group are buying up all the forest land we can’t afford.

“Mom, here.” Sunset immediately willed the bag of bits back into existence, giving it to her mother. “There’s more where that came from – just let me know what you need.”

“Oh, honey, I can’t accept this,” the older mare said, even as she looked at the bag as if it were a Celestiasend. “You know that we—”

“It’s legal,” Sunset said. “Why can’t any of you understand that?”

“Sweetie, it’s just….” Sunshine then stopped speaking as if something was meant to be unspoken. Sunshine then took the satchel in her telekinesis, merely saying, “Thank you, Sunset. Go see your father now. He’s missed you very much.”

Sunset nodded, “Will do.” She then went down the hall, towards her parents’ bedroom. As she did, she walked past her old bedroom, a place she slept in once a year whenever she came to visit her family. A part of her mind wondered how her husband and foals would react, but just as quickly, she knew the answer to that: Blueblood would be disgusted, but would say nothing as part of the agreement that went with their marriage. Her son, Silver Platter, would be completely stunned that his shining, sterling example of a mother came from such common stock; if anything, it would give him justification to continue his misogynistic and classist actions. Perhaps the only one who might have accepted was her daughter, Gilded Lily. Lily was closer in nature to Blueblood’s cousin Cadance than anypony would care to admit; unfortunately, as a princess the younger mare wasn’t going to be allowed to have her own life, and Champagne would have to arrange an advantageous marriage sooner or later.

At least she’ll have that much for her, Sunset thought of her daughter. At least her life is true. Sunset knocked on the door and then went in, whispering “Dad, I’m home.”

The pony lying on the bed was stock still and barely breathing, hooked up to a number of magical devices. He looked thin and frail, the result of a decades-long coma that dozens of doctors had attempted to coax him out of, with no success whatsoever. Several of those same medical professionals had told Sunset and her family that if he ever managed to wake up, he would never be the same: likely heavily brain-damaged from both the lengthy coma and the initial injuries to begin with. The deep-green stallion had a soft-brown mane which covered up what Sunset knew was there: a unicorn’s horn that had been broken almost completely off, the tragic result of a timber accident that happened while both Sunset and Sunrise had been away in Canterlot seeking their futures.

Heartwood was her father, the stallion that had encouraged her to move beyond the life of a lumberjack’s daughter – to follow her dreams and grow her proficiency with magic. He’d also convinced Sunrise to follow his dreams as well, that the life of a guardspony was far better than that of living amongst lumberyards and tree farms. And so when they were old enough, they went, and by the time everything had fallen apart, so had their father, a victim of a tree that had broken the wrong way after his axe had cut through it. The fact that he’d survived was a miracle…if the state he’d been in for decades now could be called survival.

Walking up to him, she patted his mane, then kissed him on the forehead. “I’m back, Dad,” she whispered, feeling the sting of tears in her eyes. “Back for my yearly visit. I’m…doing well, and I wish you could see what I’m doing now. I’m hoping that someday I’ll be able to bring you back, so that you and Mom can retire in peace. And I don’t care what I have to do and who I have to trample to do it. I’ll pay any price to save you, Dad – any price.”

Sunset would have said more if it wasn’t for the sudden shouting in the kitchen. Leaving her father’s room, she went into the kitchen to find her mother and brother arguing with a minotaur. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“This minotaur’s here to foreclose on the business and our home!” Sunshine wailed.

“Oh buck no he’s not!” Sunrise said. “Get out of our house!”

The minotaur stood there, a sober look on his face as he held out a business card. “Total Supremacy, attorney for my client, Bank of America. About seventy years ago, your father took out a long-term business loan for your company and placed that and the house as collateral.”

“But isn’t that a human company?” Sunset asked. “It shouldn’t hold any part of the loan – human companies have only been operating in Equestria for fifteen years!” Sunset knew that quite well; as Champagne, part of Blueblood’s extensive assets included stock in foreign companies such as the American bank.

“Yes, ma’am,” the minotaur answered. “But Bank of Oatmaha was bought by First Bank of Canterlot, which was in turn bought by Hoofbankcorp, which was in turn purchased by National Assets of Manehattan, which was in turn purchased by Flim-Flam Bros. Financial. About four years ago, Bank of America bought the real estate dealings of Flim-Flam Bros. which included the business loans and mortgages, which this property falls under. Now, under the terms of agreement, the moment the loan defaulted, the principals were given ninety days from which to catch up, or else the bank would have to take possession. At the moment, we have approached the ninety-day mark, under which my client expects for the loan to be paid in full, or you will have to vacate the premises immediately.”

“But we never received any notification about the loan being in default!” Sunrise shouted.

“We’ve sent several notices, both by express mail and by overnight courier,” Total Supremacy said, producing receipts. Sunrise looked at the documents and then suddenly went stock-still. While Sunset didn’t know what was going on, she knew that somehow something had just gone terribly wrong, and that the blame wasn’t necessarily that of the business or the minotaur.

“Mr. Supremacy,” she asked, “how much is owed on the loan?”

“Approximately Ƀ15.7 million, not counting legal fees, taxes and the like,” he answered. “If you’d like, I can get you an exact figure.” Both Sunrise and Sunshine gasped in shock, unable to comprehend how such a huge amount of money had been racked up.

“Yes, please do,” she said, looking briefly at her family. “I’ll ensure the total is paid tomorrow.” Behind her, she heard another round of gasps as she just completely agreed to take care of the amount.

“And you can do this?” the lawyer asked.

“Without fail,” Sunset answered.

“Then I will be by tomorrow with the appropriate documents,” he replied. “Please have everything ready to go, because…well, truthfully, I don’t care to remove anypony from their homes, but business is business.” And with that, he then departed, leaving Sunset in the same house as two completely flabbergasted ponies.

“Sixteen million bits?” Sunshine said, absolutely astonished. “Sunset, where are you going to g—”

“NO!” Sunrise shouted. “I REFUSE! TAKE YOUR DIRTY MONEY AND GET OUT OF HERE AND DON’T COME BACK!”

“Son, your sister is trying to help, though I must confess even I’m curious as to where you’ll get that much money from.”

“I keep telling you,” Sunset replied. “It’s money I earned from…my, um, job. I’m….”

“Oh, this lie’s going to be a whopper, I can tell,” Sunrise accused.

She sighed. “Look: I’m…the private secretary for her highness Princess Champagne Dreams,” she lied. “She pays me very well to do my job, so I’ve saved up quite some bits over the years.”

“That’s wonderful!” Sunshine chirped. “I always knew you’d make something of yourself someday, Sunset.”

“Thanks, Mom,” the younger mare said, wondering how she was going to explain this one. Sure, about Ƀ16M was a drop in the bucket in the family assets, but even Blueblood was going to be curious as to where that money went. “Tell you what: you go get dressed up. We’re going out to eat tonight, on me, okay?”

The look on Sunshine’s face was touching. “Oh, I’m so proud of you, Sunset. Your father is too, I’m sure. Now, let me go find my best dress.” With that, the aged mare went off to her bedroom, looking for something to wear for that evening.

“You know, you may have fooled Mom, but I’m not buying it,” Sunrise seethed. “‘Private secretary for the princess.’ Heh, why don’t you just tell a bigger lie – like you’re the princess in secret or something?”

Because then I wouldn’t be lying, you idiot, she thought, though she held her tongue. Instead, she said, “My private life is none of your business, Sunrise. Just let me help Mom, and then I’ll be out of your mane again for another year. Besides, you should be a little bit appreciative, since it’s basically your job that I’m saving.”

“Yeah, I’ll look up gratitude for that right after I get over the fact that you got me kicked out of the guard for your stupidity,” he spat. “And since that takes precedence, in the meanwhile you’ll just have to live with that!”

Dinner that night had been nothing but pure fabrication. Sunset spun lies out of whole cloth, leaving her mother absolutely stupefied – and her brother more suspicious by the minute. During a quick run to the “fillies’ room”, Sunset had called her actual secretary and informed her that it was a royal edict that should anypony inquire as to if a mare named Sunset Shimmer worked for her that she’d done so for a number of years and in a bunch of special duties that nopony was at liberty to discuss. Once that was done, she went back to dinner, only to have her brother decide suddenly that he had to attend to something of a “stallionly nature”.

Sunset had little doubt as to what he was doing and who he was calling.

A few minutes later, sure enough, he returned, a confused but still suspicious look on his face. Satisfied that the lie had worked, Sunset Shimmer spent the rest of the time continuing her fictions while making mental notes that she might have to back them up someday – and hoped that she never would.

And as they returned to the family home, spent but happy, it was the first time in years that Sunset had seen her mother smile; something that was well overdue. But as she went to her bed, she heard her brother’s voice behind her as he headed to his room: “I don’t know how you did it, but you managed to pull a fast one, faker. Just do what you have to do to make Mom happy and save Dad’s business, then you can leave and never come back.”

“You know,” she replied as she stifled a yawn, “I’m not used to being addressed in that tone. And you’re lucky I’m not the princess, because she would have you garotted or worse for that.” He suddenly blanched, expecting a wicked smile to come from her. But instead, she turned away, walking into her old bedroom and stifling a moment of panic. Because she knew, as Champagne, she likely would have – and had already done much, much worse.

That night, sleeping fitfully on a gingham bed, Sunset Shimmer dreamed.

Sunset found herself standing in the center of the Royal Parade Grounds in Canterlot. She was in her guise as Champagne, and yet somehow she knew that something about her life as Sunset had been exposed, though she wasn’t sure why. As she stood there, she looked into the distance. The parade grounds looked anything but healthy. The sky was a sooty black while the sun, normally bright and yellow, was a choked, anemic ball of white hanging in the background, giving off ashen rays of light that gave everything a gray, dank pallor. Eventually the faded light settled on a slab of quartz-like crystal, blacker than the night and radiating waves of acid-green and ghostly-purple. The crystal almost felt alive, a sinuous, bestial thing. And as the geode seemed to grow slowly but surely, taking over the whole of the parade ground, Sunset finally realized what she was staring at.

How many ponies did you kill with that spell? a voice asked. How many senior mages did it take to bring under control and how many did it take for them to convene the administrative board that kicked you out of the Guild Academy? Sunset turned around and found herself staring at a huge, black alicorn, the look of which was fearsome and daunting. Part of her instinctively told herself to run, but at the last moment she thought better of it.

Smart mare – if you’d run, you would have vexed me dearly…and not many ponies ever wake up from that again. But we are not here to discuss that. Instead, we’re here to discuss a critical part of your life, Sunset Shimmer…or should I say, your highness, Champagne Dreams? Nightmare Moon smiled, but it was a sad, lonely smile. I’m sure you didn’t mean to do it.

“No, I didn’t,” Champagne said sadly. “When Dad had his accident, and the doctors told us that there was no hope, I begged an audience with Archmagus Glittering Prize and begged him to have either Princess Celestia or Cadance intervene. But he told me that as academy students, we were all ‘Celestia’s prize pupils’ and for her to play favorites wouldn’t be fair.”

But you didn’t know about Twilight Sparkle, did you? the Nightmare asked.

“No, and to be honest, it wouldn’t have mattered if I did,” Sunset spoke. When I found out they couldn’t – or wouldn’t – intervene, I went to the library to cry. I could have went anywhere, but few students bothered going to the library, as their masters were hoofs-on teachers. My mentor, Fruit Splash, however, was very much into book learning. ‘Nothing can’t be learned at the hoof that wasn’t memorized in the book first,’ she always told me. So I was very used to being in the library, even when it was the last place on the planet I wanted to be.

“But while looking for a place where I could be desolate, that’s when I got lost, and that’s when I found one of the forbidden wings of the library.”

And that’s when you found my son’s studies, the alicorn said.

Champagne laughed. “Oh, please – Sombra was your son? Nightmare, I’m used to lies. I’m living a lie! So believe me when I say that I can tell when somepony’s lying, and that has to be the worst one I’ve heard!”

Is it? the dark alicorn asked in turn. Or are you so used to your own lies that you’ve forgotten what truth sounds like? In any case, let me remind you of the truth of your actions, Sunset Shimmer. After finding my son’s books, you began studying them more and more, studying how he was able to take a mystical artifact of power and bend it to his will; how he took his followers – mere earth ponies fleeing the fractured remains of Queen Faust’s once-great nation – and gave them everlasting life as the so-called “crystal ponies”. But you didn’t figure out how he was able to make crystal ponies permanent, did you? He took that secret to his grave when he was murdered by Celestia and Luna.

Champagne looked at the Nightmare with confusion. “How would you know that?”

How would I know that Celestia, using the arts of war to bring all of ponydom back under the restored realm that was once her mother’s, forced the ponies of Pegasopolis, Unicornia and Earth to bow to her or face the hell that was Discord? Or that shortly afterwards she annexed Saddle Arabia, giving them only the slightest veneer of independence? Or that my son, watching it all, couldn’t bear to see his followers be crushed under ivory and navy hooves and waged a war to protect their own freedom? The look in the Nightmare’s face was one of near-heartbreak, and it made her look more approachable, more natural.

“But Sombra was said to torture his subjects! That he abused them in vile, unnatural ways, and when he lost, on his death he banished them to a netherrealm for over a thousand years!”

Or maybe those are the lies you were told, the Nightmare answered. Sombra was a scientist and a master of magic, full of life and wanting to protect his subjects. That is why he created the spell that gave those earth ponies magic almost on par with unicorns such as himself. And knowing that Celestia would abuse that power, he reluctantly sealed away the Crystal Empire – that wasn’t his name for it, by the way, it was an epithet used by Celestia – until the day they could be protected once more.

But my part in it you mostly know: filled with grief, I did what I could to avenge my son, turning Luna against her own sister. We were both banished for that time until Luna was freed by Twilight Sparkle and I was banished again. The dark alicorn, looking more like a slightly larger version of Luna now, shook her head sadly. I don’t blame Twilight for what she did; she did what she was brainwashed into thinking was correct. Just as I don’t blame you for using my son’s books to try to save your father, even though the consequences didn’t quite work out as you intended.

Champagne turned her head away at that, but considering where they were in her nightmare, it was hard to avoid. She’d tested the crystallization spell on a mouse nearly dead from old age, hoping that if it worked, she’d be able to transform her father and save him. And it worked, for a few minutes; the transformed crystal mouse seemed as though its youth had been restored. But then it turned black as night, and then with painful, shrill screams obsidian spars erupted from its body, making it look more like a crystal porcupine. Then it exploded, and as blood flew everywhere, where it spattered more spars of crystal formed. Within seconds, her room at the academy was completely covered in obsidian and as she ran from the room, she barely made it out as her roommate came in.

The screams behind her told her enough of what had just occurred – and that her roommate was going to no longer be amongst the living, soon. By the time she’d found the mage on-duty, four rooms had been enveloped, and seven colts and fillies, young students with promising futures, had been subsumed by the black obsidian.

Hours later, the damage had been done. Fifty-three students killed. Seventeen mages had also fallen to the mess, as did thirty guards attempting to evacuate the remaining students. It had taken Princess Celestia to quite literally vaporize that wing of the academy with her power to stop the bloodshed. Horrified and angry at the use of black magic by somepony at the academy, the Princess demanded action be taken to punish the wrongdoer.

It didn’t take long for Sunset to be outed. Nopony suspected a student at first, but her guilty attitude and inability to suddenly concentrate on her studies finally let the teachers put two and two together. It was funny, she mused; nowadays, with the introduction of human psychology and in particular the concept of “survivor’s guilt”, she could have potentially gotten away with it. But this was long before that time, and in any case, they were correct about the wrongdoer.

The administrative board was quickly convened. Since she was too young to be convicted of a crime, the Archmagus executed the sternest ruling he could: expulsion from the guild with prejudice – she could never appeal or return. But what she hadn’t expected was what had happened to her brother, Sunshine: due to her actions, the guard did not feel he could be trusted either, and he was forced out of the guard bootcamp as well, leaving both rejected.

When Sunshine found out what had happened, she’d been horrified. Sunrise, disgusted at his sister, immediately went home to Haymarket to work at their father’s business, literally the only thing he had left for him; it was a slap in the face for somepony whose cutie mark hinted at the potential of being part of Celestia’s main guard. Sunset, feeling that she had nopony left to turn to and no place to go, effectively vanished.

It was years later when a young noblemare named Champagne Dreams appeared, the horrors of the past long forgotten. While nopony knew what Champagne’s lineage was, none investigated, assuming that anypony of such sterling and noble demeanor was undeniably one of the nobles living on the west coast of Equestria. And when she’d nursed the heart of the somewhat irascible young prince Blueblood after a rumored disaster of an attempt to woo the future Knight Elemental named Rarity, it wasn’t long before Blueblood and Champagne were announced to be engaged, and eventually married.

Over the years, marriage had dulled the prince’s sharp edges, it seemed, and in public the royal couple was a shining example of what royalty was meant to be. Eventually, Champagne gave birth to a son, Silver Platter, that some said had picked up his father’s old ways; and a daughter, Gilded Lily, who was said to be even more of a shining star than her parents. But even still, Blueblood and Champagne continued their tireless public attempts to improve the life of all of ponydom and to ensure a better way of life for the subjects of Equestria.

But behind closed doors, nopony, save for possibly Blueblood, knew what hells she’d endured working her way to form her identity as Champagne; not a single pony could even fathom the number of ponies she’d swindled, slept with, conned, or worse, all just to get that leg up in society, just to earn a few bits to send home to her family. Her entire life was one of hardship and criminality, and yet somehow she’d survived it all, eking out an existence that would have made the hardest-hearted of ponies break down in tears of anguish and sympathy.

In fact, it had been one of those cruel-minded individuals, a minor viscountess with which Sunset had an ‘intimate agreement’ – short for sex for pay on demand – named Virgin Dawn that had been the inspiration for Champagne’s looks, and when Virgin and her husband mysteriously died in a chariot crash, leaving everything to a distant cousin named Champagne Dreams, nopony suspected.

But through all that, she’d never forgotten where she’d come from, and the father to who she owed everything. And now as she stood, metaphorically, before the very Solar Throne she wished to ensconce her husband in, the call to save her father was just as great; the hope to tell the truth to them – well, an edited version, at any rate – and give her family the life they deserved was all-important.

You know, I could help you with that, Nightmare commented. A little tit for tat, and not only would you get everything you desire, I get something out of the deal as well.

“How so?”

If I lent you my power, it would be enough to bring forth the true crystal spell. That was your problem – you were never powerful enough to do so. But with somepony of, say, Sombra’s or Twilight Sparkle’s skill, it would suffice. For a pony of my power? Mere foal’s play. Your father would be safe. Furthermore, the alicorn said, putting a wing gently on Champagne’s back, you could rid the world of Celestia and Luna and place your family on the throne. Then you could give your family titles of nobility and to Tartarus with anypony who would dare say otherwise.

The alicorn chuckled. I see that from the look in your eyes, I have your attention. But I want you to think on it. Such a decision should never be made lightly. I will let you ponder my offer, she decided, waving a black wing over Champagne’s eyes. We will be in touch….

Sunset awoke with a start. Conjuring into existence her cellphone, she noticed that it was four in the morning. While she couldn’t get a signal – human technology had yet to make an extended appearance in this part of Equestria – she was still using it for other methods, like a clock. And right now that clock was telling her she had no time to lose.

Willing to existence a pen and paper, she immediately wrote up a document, then sent it straight to her secretary. Datestamp would be on the ball and get it rolling, she was sure. She’d probably also hear about it from Blueblood, but she’d deal with that; her idea would ensure that the family’s business would be saved.

An hour later, just as she heard Sunrise get up for the morning, she saw the flash of light blue fire, as the letter willed itself into existence. Letting the scroll fall to the bed, she quickly looked at it and a terse smile came onto her face.

Dear,

I don’t know what you’re doing, but I’ll back your play for now. I expect a full account as to why we’ve spent millions on what seems to be nothing less than a complete waste of bits.

Your adoring husband,
-B

That’s more than enough for me, she decided, as she willed more paper and her checkbook out. She had quite a few more things to fill out and the clock was ticking.

A tense breakfast followed. While Sunshine “had every faith” in her daughter, she was also looking around the house, nostalgia glasses firmly on, wondering where they would go after they lost the house. While she never voiced any of it, Sunset knew her mother well enough to realize that. As for Sunrise, he was off talking to his employees – what few of them were left – about getting to work. From the sounds that floated over the air to where she was, she wasn’t sure, but one of his best lumberjacks had just taken a better-paying supervisory position with Canadian Forest Products, which had just bought a sizable amount of acreage in the Whitetail Woods, outside of Shetland Valley. Finally, he sent his ponies out to work.

As he walked back to the house, his steps were heavy and Sunset knew her brother’s heart was on the verge of defeat. Speaking to nopony in particular, he said, “Well, I let the guys know that we’re on our last legs here.” Looking at Sunset with a hard stare, he said, “You had damn well better come through, because if you don’t, you won’t be ruining just my life this time, you’ll be destroying a whole lot more.”

“I’ve got it under control,” she answered as an SUV pulled up to the house. As it came to a stop, several humans stepped out of the vehicle, as well as Total Surpremacy. The look on several of the humans indicated that they already felt they owned the place and were making “big plans” with the land they were going to have in their grasp. It didn’t surprise her; nearly every human she’d ever met was just like ponies – kind-hearted and wonderful on the surface, but filled with lies and deception on the inside. If they had their way, they’d probably build an office park and some factories and pay ponies a few extra bits while the next generation of PCs and iPads were “proudly made in Equestria”. She knew their kind, as ruthless as sharks – just like her. Part of her considered bedding at least one of them to find out their plans and use them for her needs, but she no longer needed to do that sort of thing.

She now had underlings to do that for her. “Is something the matter, my mistress?” a voice behind her said, just soft enough that neither Sunshine nor Sunrise could hear. Sunset had been notified of her special assistant’s arrival just before she stepped out of her bedroom that morning. The assistant was one of the few ponies who had Sunset’s confidence on her dual identity, and the older unicorn felt a kindred spirit with her assistant, as she’d undergone much the same kind of life as Sunset had. So Sunset took her under her hoof and confidence, and let the pony grow.

That doesn’t mean I don’t have means of dealing with her should she decide to go rogue, Sunset mused to herself. Speaking just barely above a whisper, she said, “Those four humans – give them the ‘special treatment’. Make it look like an accident, of course. Leave the minotaur alone; I get the feeling he’s not too happy with his job.”

“Yes, mistress,” the mare said. “And your brother?”

Sunset thought about it for a second. “We’ll discuss that later.” She could feel her assistant disappear as Supremacy came up. “Ah, Mr. Supremacy, so good to see you this morning.”

The look in his eyes was apologetic. “I’m sorry. A team from my client insisted on following me this morning, as they’re sure you won’t be able to make the payment.”

“Well,” the orange unicorn said with a smile on her face. “Would an even twenty million bits be enough to convince you to change your mind?”

“Twenty million?” Sunshine gasped. Sunrise merely looked at his sister as though she’d just gone insane. Supremacy smiled softly; somehow this had just made his life easier, even though he’d never hinted at that. But the humans that were looking at the property turned and looked at her with anger.

“Listen here, young lady,” one of the men said as he came up, “I don’t know where you think you can pull this stuff off, but let’s get something straight: as soon as that check bounces, we’re going to own this land and kick your Goddamn asses off our property. So just stop stalling with theatrics, pack up and leave, got that?”

Giving the man a wide, malicious grin, she said, “Sir, I am the private secretary for Her Highness Princess Champagne Dreams. Her highness was kind enough to loan me the money so that I could save my family’s business, and unless you feel that money that comes straight from the Crown is invalid, then you can certainly try. Furthermore, her highness asked me to follow up on the situation with her, as she feels that human-owned banks do not exactly have a sense of corporate responsibility, and since she and her husband – fourth in line to the Equestriani throne, I might add – own approximately three percent of your bank’s stocks, that gives her quite a bit of leverage.” The man suddenly turned ashen-faced as she said that.

“You’re lying,” he said, though not with as much confidence.

In response, she turned to Supremacy and said, “Sir, at the Oatmaha Hooflight Inn there’s a contingent of Equestriani Royal Guards, preparing for her highness’ New Year’s speech in two days. They can verify the check and they likely have a patent rosa to confirm it.”

Supremacy’s grin was wide as he said, “I don’t think that will be necessary, Ms. Shimmer.” Turning to the humans, he said, “Show’s over, folks. Let’s get you back to Oatmaha so you can head back to New York soonest.”

Displeased with their plans being thwarted, the humans got back into the SUV. “This place isn’t worth the bother, anyway,” one of the humans snarled, while several others agreed. Sunset wanted to head over there and slap the speaker – or, to be honest, have the four of them executed on the spot, but that’s what Champagne would have done…and she wasn’t Champagne at the moment.

Meanwhile, just before he left, Supremacy said in a hushed tone to Sunset, “This was my last job working for my law firm – I’m turning in my two weeks. Between you and me, I’m tired of working with humans who treat AE species like we’re less than zero. So…if your father’s company’s ever looking for an attorney,” he said, giving her a new business card, one with a different phone number on it, “give me a call.”

Sunset winked. “Will do, Mr. Supremacy. Have a wonderful day.” She couldn’t say more as she was suddenly surrounded in hugs by her mother and, surprisingly, her brother.

“You did it!” Sunshine chirped, tears of joy and relief streaming down her face. “You saved us, Sunset!”

“Wow, I am impressed,” Sunrise said, his voice actually carrying positive tones towards her for the first time in years. “I didn’t think you could pull it off.” The trio spent minutes there, excited and giddy about having saved everything.

Finally, as they calmed down, she said, “Mom, this calls for a celebration tonight. Would it be too much to ask for your special Daffodil Tetrazinni for dinner?”

“I’ll get started right away!” Sunshine said as she headed towards the kitchen, a lightness in her steps that hadn’t seemed to be there in years, as if the aged mare was almost dancing.

“Well, time to go tell my workers the good news,” Sunrise said, a grin on his face.

“Sunrise, you might hate me,” Sunset said, “but it doesn’t mean that I haven’t regretted what happened to you, little brother.”

The look on his face was impassive and unreadable, as if something was warring within his head. For the first time in a while, Sunset considered that the repercussions of what happened to him might have given him a subtle but long-running case of CMFIS. After all, his cutie mark wasn’t meant to have him here as a lumberjack.

Finally, something seemed to pass and he said, “Maybe. You go tell Dad the news; I’ve got to get to my workers.” And with that, he left Sunset alone with her thoughts, wondering if as much as she suffered climbing back to a normal standard of life, her brother had paid a different but just as huge price for something he’d never done.

“Your highness?” a voice whispered behind her and she had to keep herself from yelping. Sunset turned to face the mare in question, a black unicorn guardsmare with a bright red mane. Unlike her normal retinue of guards or the ceremonial ones at her manse, this one was outfitted in no clothing that revealed her as a guard, mainly because in truth she wasn’t one.

The look on Sunset’s face grew hard as she said, “That first human….”

“Done, milady. He’ll be meeting a cute and easily pliable mare at the bar tonight. A little convincing will get her up to his room, and…well, I’ve heard that older humans have heart attacks during sex,” she said nonchalantly.

Sunset smiled with no humor. “I’ll have to keep that in mind. And the others?”

“It might take a few weeks, and I might have to travel to Human-Earth, but I shall do as bid.”

“Good. The sooner they’re dealt with for this indignity, the better.”

“Yes, your highness. And, what about your brother?” the mare asked.

A sudden idea came to Sunset. “Well, he’s getting up there in years, and I’m sure you don’t want to be doing this job forever, Red….”

Red looked at her employer oddly, putting two and two together – or rather, one and one – in a heartbeat. “So you’re going to pay me to be your brother’s concubine?”

“Think of it as a financial incentive to get a charming, older coltfriend who will treat you right. Despite his anger, Sunrise is a wonderful stallion. And believe it or not, I don’t want you to go down the same path that I did.”

“What path is that, your highness?”

“The path where I have to brutally murder you to keep my secret once you inevitably step out of line,” she said smoothly. “So, at least as my future sister-in-law, you’ll get paid to keep my brother happy and I might include you in some other plans, which undoubtedly will be very lucrative.”

“I…see,” the mare said, as if she’d just been lured into a trap. Finally, after some consideration, she answered with, “I can’t promise that I’ll be happy about this, but at least I’ll pretend.”

Tapping the younger mare on the withers, she said, “Look on the bright side: I gain more power, and as family, I’ll be sharing it. Because if there’s one thing that I’m totally ruthless at,” Sunset said with a note of pride in her voice, “it’s taking care of my family.”

It was two days later when Champagne Dreams returned to her manor. The first thing she found was her husband, standing there as he waited for her limousine, a scowl on his face. As she got out, he said, “Well, this has been an interesting New Year’s holiday. I find myself out twenty million bits, one of the executives of the bank we own stock in was found dead of a heart attack after sleeping with a mare in Oatmaha, where you just happened to be giving the annual speech this year. And, saddest of all, one of the mares I…ahem…keep myself busy with seems to have left the premises for good, and I know she was last seen with you. Care to explain any of this?”

Champagne approached her husband, her eyes already full of desire. “I have cornered everything I need to, my husband,” she said, “and Red Flash has new responsibilities now.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. She has a new stallion to entertain her,” she said, whispering huskily in his ear, “and if you meet me in our chambers in twenty minutes, I’ll tell you all about it after you show me the same…courtesy.” She curled her tail seductively around his leg just like he liked it, and as the end of her tail brushed against something she suddenly realized she had his attention.

“So the twenty million is…?”

“An investment,” she said, grabbing his suit collar in her teeth and pulling him towards the house. She knew several ponies were looking at them right now, but she didn’t care. Let them think that the princess was busy wanting to spend time with the husband she so very much missed while on her royal duties.

It would almost be close to the truth.

That night, exhausted and in a room smelling of a heady chocolate scent, Champagne Dreams slept.

I see you’ve returned, Nightmare Moon said, an even look on her face. Are you re—

“You can skip the formalities, Nightmare,” Champagne responded. “My answer is….”

Author's Note

And now the COMBS storyarc is done. Which one is NIghtmare Moon? I'll let you decide; feel free and comment below.

Interrupted Cadance, Part One

Sitting in the back seat of the car, a beautiful but dour redhead snarled, “I don’t want to do this.”

Driving the vehicle, a dark-haired beauty grinned. “You’re going to have to. I won’t let you sit in your house any longer, drinking yourself to death.”

“In case you forgot, I’m not that lucky. Believe me, I’ve tried!” the redhead snapped back.

In the passenger seat, a young man who looked barely out of college sighed. “Could we argue about this later? If we don’t get to the hotel soon, we’re going to lose our reservation!”

The raven-haired woman laughed. “No we won’t – trust me on this one.”

It was a typical evening in Las Vegas. The desert city was filled with its bedazzling cascades of lights, holograms and various other distractions. On the streets, the local residents drove by, used to all the glitter and glamor; visitors driving through the streets slowed down to take in the sheer amount of luminescence that filled the surroundings. In a rented Mercedes Benz, the three humans pulled up in front of the Aqua Maré, the newest and most expensive hotel and casino in the area. They’d just as soon arrived as a well-dressed man walked up, several hand-selected bellhops behind him. Opening the doors, he called to the trio, “Welcome to the Aqua Maré, Ms. Sparks, Mr. Sparks, Ms. Di Amore. I am Chester Sharp, Assistant Manager.”

“See?” the brunette said to her companions as the bellhops opened the trunk and took their bags, and a valet moved to take the car, “Toldja we have everything in position.”

Moving close over to Ms. Sparks, the man whispered, “Your grace, the manager sends her apologies for not being able to meet you this week, but she had some personal issues to attend to. I hope I may be of assistance in her stead.”

“Thank you,” Twilight Sparkle responded.

Spike, still getting accustomed to the general weakness of human eyes – the inability to see certain parts of the color spectrum like he could in his normal form was a little bit on the bothersome side – looked at his sister and said, “Wow, this place is…well, it’s interesting….”

Twilight gave him a smile. “I’m glad you like it. After all, you own half.”

His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “I own what?”

She gave him another smile. “Well, to be correct, technically House Shetland owns half and House Palomino owns the other half. You did ask me to put your hoard somewhere safe because you really weren’t sure of how to protect it, right? So I invested it and bought some real estate here on human-Earth. Part of it was this casino that ran out of money before they even got started building. So I bought it, half with your funds and half with mine and finished it.”

“But Twilight….” he moaned, before sighing and shrugging. She was right, after all; he did ask her to do so. It just seemed so…well, undragonlike to have a portion of his hoard like this, not that he actually knew how “real” dragons dealt with their own keepsakes. “Nevermind,” he muttered. “But I’d like to see the books later.”

“No problem; I sent an email to the manager about that myself. The place is doing excellently, as you can see, but it never hurts to make sure that an investment is being managed to the utmost of its uses.”

As the trio followed the assistant manager through the hotel, the fruits of the whole venture could be seen: shades of aqua, cerulean, teal and blue could be seen throughout the hotel. Various furniture done up as coral reefs with delicate shades of coral pink and gray; the lamps on the tables, crafted in the shapes of sea sponges, also added to the ambiance. Above, chandeliers shaped like oversized jellyfish added a playful touch to the vaulted ceiling, upon which dozens of colorful fish – robotic substitutes, actually, since the area was sealed and they couldn’t actually be fed – moved to and fro in a simulated sea.

In the distance, Twilight could hear music from the nearby bar, though she wondered about the lines of the song – “Shoo be doo, shoop shoo be doo”? Where have I heard that before? – but brushed it out of her mind. She had more important things to deal with at the moment. Right now she had to deal with the other member of her family coming close to meltdown.

Standing there in a human form, eyeing the bar, Cadance looked as though she intended to drink the whole damn thing, but a quick shake of Twilight’s head stopped that line of thought immediately. Instead, the alicorn in human guise took the key from the manager and said to no one in particular, “I’m going up to my suite. Maybe I can indulge in something there.”

Catching that line of thought, Twilight turned to the assistant manager as Cadance sauntered off. “Did you, um…?” Twilight asked delicately.

“As per your request, your grace. Though, I must remind you that her highness does outrank you and I am bound by—”

“—the house rules set forth by the owners of the establishment, which is me and my brother here,” she reminded him. “And I said no alcohol is to be delivered to that room in any way, shape or form. And of the other request?”

Sharp nodded. “Yes. It was taken care of yesterday. I was assured that the room has been double- and triple-warded.”

“Thank you. And lastly…?”

“Ah, that. You’re registered as Tanya Sparks, Spencer Sparks, and Cathryn Di Amore, respectively. While we do have some paparazzi currently staying at the hotel, they’re likely here covering Justin Bieber’s 38th Birthday Celebration over at the Bellagio. I can assure you, the utmost discretion is being taken, your grace.” Shortly after, a bellhop approached trio, carrying Spike’s and Twilight’s bags as well as keycards to their respective penthouses. Taking the cards and handing them to the ensorcelled non-humans, Sharp added, “Your suites are ready, your graces. Please enjoy your stay.”

“I hope so,” Twilight said sadly. “I sure hope so.”

Her name was Mi Amore Cadenza, Princess Royal of Equestria, Secondary Heir to Her Majesty the Princess Regnal Caelum de Aurae of Equestria, Avatar of Love, Maiden of the Spring Sky, Keeper of the Bow of Love, former Transitional Governor for the Crystal Empire, recently-appointed Foreign Minister of Equestria and a dozen other titles that really didn’t matter much. She was the daughter of Prince Apollo, Governor-General of Saddle Arabia and his wife, Princess Quiet Solitude. She was a member of a very exclusive subspecies of ponies – alicorn; in fact, she was the first one in history that was born to somepony other than another alicorn. She was loved by many and had a very privileged and substantial life.

And yet none of that mattered to her. In fact, the only thing was the sweet emptiness of nothing.

Cadance wanted to die. The sooner, the better, if only to be with him. Shining Armor. The only stallion she’d ever loved, the eternal light of her life and the source of so much pride and joy. She’d made him her prince – literally – and their love was to be everlasting.

But life had slapped her in the face for the past five years as she watched him die from Chrysalis’ poisoning, a result of the assault on the changeling stronghold that hopefully removed from existence for once and for all…

…and then fate had finally plunged the dagger in, six months ago. Last week had been exactly six months to the day since he’d passed away in brutal pain in the hospital, and since that day, Equestria’s princess of love, the very avatar of romance, had simply given up on it. How could she even stand to see anypony happy and gleeful when her own heart had been torn out? How could she function as the existing embodiment of such joy and bliss when her own avenue towards that emotion had been severed as horrifically as a manticore biting off one of her legs?

So she hid herself away and took to the bottle – and tap, and barrel, and keg, and cask…. She wanted to die…but ageless ponies could not. No damage was long-lasting, and both Celestia and Luna had given her space to deal with her grief, both elder alicorns understanding that their fate was not the same as that of the average pony. But when Shining’s younger siblings could take no more of her plight, both Twilight and Spike virtually declared war against her sorrow. They’d lost so much, with their parents both passing the year before Shining’s death, and neither unicorn nor dragon would let Cadance fall towards that same dark abyss if they could help it.

She could almost love both of them for that, except…she didn’t want to love anymore.

Her name was Mi Amore Cadenza, and she wanted to die.

After checking into their respective rooms, both Twilight and Spike met back in the former’s room for a quick planning session. But to call it a mere room was an understatement; technically it was an apartment in its own right, specifically reserved for her use or whomever she authorized. Spike had one of the other two of the four; and of the last two, Cadance was using one, and the last one was also occupied, as Twilight was informed, by the general manager, who had yet to find a place for her own needs.

“Twilight….” Spike began. He’d given some thought to the situation, but was still willing to follow her lead on the whole crisis.

“Spike, I know what you’re going to say.” For the moment, they were still in their human disguises, the agreement that they would remain in so until they returned to Equestria. It would be a good way to practice an extended spell, Twilight had told her younger brother, and besides, she wanted to make sure that the genetic amniomorphic had no long-term issues, as it was, in truth, just a modification of the traditional amniomorphic spell. “We can’t lose her, Spike. We’re the only family she really has, and….”

The dragon in human form rolled his eyes. “Uh, if I recall correctly, she’s got parents and two younger siblings, all in Saddle Arabia. Plus, what about the rest of the Royal Family?”

“She’s never been close to her parents and she barely knows her siblings; she’s been raised by Celestia almost since birth and to her dismay, Cadance’s parents feel that she should be ‘with her own kind’ – I’m not sure what that means. As for the others,” Twilight added, “it was their suggestion that we bring her here. The girls would have come, but Rarity’s hosting this year’s FiMPro; AJ’s on foreign travel right now assisting the zebras with their irrigation program; Fluttershy had the feather flu, so she couldn’t come; Pinkie’s still just getting used to being a new mother; and Rainbow’s having to learn the ropes as…as….” Twilight stopped a helpless look in her eyes.

In an instant, Spike was on his feet, embracing his sister. “I know, Twi. I miss him too. I miss him, Mom and Dad…I feel empty, since they’re all gone now.”

“Which is why we have to protect Cadance,” she said in a choked voice. “Cadance took care of us when we were younger, and now it’s our turn to return the favor.”

“Which is why I’m wondering why we came here,” he said, letting her go. “Honestly, this place, from what I’m told, is weird even for humans. Couldn’t we have gone to Hoofalulu or something?”

“No – for starters, that’s where their honeymoon was. Second, getting her completely away from our world was paramount; too many reminders of the past for her.” Twilight sighed. “Yes, I admit I should have thought a little better about our vacation plans, but this was the easiest one to arrange in such a short amount of time and—”

A lamp in the room, glowing with a soft white light, suddenly blared red. The two siblings looked at each other for just a split second before Twilight teleported both of them to Cadance’s room just in time to see her room empty, and the door to the balcony wide open; while a human would have just went outside to sulk – or worse – Cadance obviously didn’t truly fit that biological standard.

It was times like this when she was younger that Twilight would have exploded into panic mode, making the situation so much worse as a result. But she was now a mare in her late forties and had a better grasp on things. “Spike?”

Her younger brother looked at her. He was grateful that the years had mellowed her out, but even still, this was Cadance, one of the ponies closest to Twilight, and besides, she was family – if there was a time to panic, now was it. “Yes?”

“What do you think?” she asked, not turning to look at him, but he could hear the pain in her voice – even with the limited hearing of his human form at the time it was unmistakable.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But I think this is one we’re going to want some help on. She knows we’re in town anyway.”

“Right,” Twilight said, headed for the door. “I just hope I remembered to tell her we’re in disguise.”

From the moment she landed on the intersection of Flamingo and South Vegas Blvd., Cadance didn’t know what to do. She had enough sense to fly invisibly to the pedestrian overpass and wait until she could slip on unnoticed; the last thing she wanted to do was cause anyone any problems. But as she looked at the street and the cars racing down the pathway, she knew it would be so easy for a human to just jump and let either nature or traffic take care of the problem.

Problem was, she wasn’t human and even with the genetic amniomorphic, the systemic shock from any injury would jolt her back into her normal form, where the healing would be nearly-instantaneous. At worst, she’d end up with a few bruises that would take a few days to heal.

Maybe there’s a bad part of town where I could get shot, or killed or…. The thought was immediately dismissed. The way her human form looked, the violence that would be inflicted on her would likely be of the kind…. She felt herself falling to her knees at that thought. She would only ever let Shining touch her like that, and now his loving hooves were gone. She was alone in the world – this one and her native one – and the stallion she loved was in a place she couldn’t go. And yet she would live on, alone and destroyed.

The tears began flowing. They wouldn’t stop. She couldn’t stop them. Each of them was a scream from deep within her soul, crying out for Shining but knowing that he could never answer. The stallion she knew would have done any- and everything to prevent his love from being in this situation, but….

“Excuse me, dearie, but this isn’t the best place to be. The police come through here all the time and you don’t want to deal with their harassment.” Cadance looked up and saw this old – old – woman standing there, a walking cane in her shaking hand, iron-gray hair that still had traces of the sable black it must’ve been once and dark skin crackled with the wrinkles of advanced age. She appeared as though that cane, made from what looked to be a gnarled yet strong tree branch, was what held the city in place, somehow pinned down by that reedy accessory lest it fly away into madness. And while she was short and squat, there was a presence about her, as strong and sure as her aunt Celestia, one that drew Cadance’s attention and kept it there.

Reaching into her pocket, the old woman said, “So, did he bring you here to divorce you? Or did he bring you here because he said he was divorcing his wife and running away with you only to change his mind? Or was it something else? I pride myself on being able to keep up with you young folk, but even an old lady like me has her limits.” The woman produced a cloth kerchief, looking somewhat worn with age, but clearly a token kept in great condition, out of pride or some critical bit of the past.

Cadance looked at the woman, completely confused. “I….” The line of inquiry was so unexpected, that the Avatar of Love couldn’t wrap it around her own mind: was the woman asking her if she needed help on love?

“Well, it’s obvious something’s rustled your jimmies, as my grandson’s so fond of saying, and I’ve run into enough types here on the Strip that are three sheets to the wind, whether on booze or drugs – you’re clearly not the type. So something is bothering you and I said to myself, ‘Self, that girl’s heart’s been broken or else you ain’t no Vegas showgirl.’” The woman smiled broadly as she added, “And I wasn’t. Well, not a showgirl. Was a bunnygirl when the Playboy Club was round these parts – well, the first one, not the new one – but didn’t have the dancing skills to be a showgirl.”

The woman looked at the redhead and said, “And I know enough girls still from the old days to know the type. You’ve got the look, but not the feel, of a showgirl or those bargirls, or booth babes, or whatever they call them nowadays – we used to call them poledancers and strippers back then. So you’re an out-of-towner, clearly, and something happened. So, c’mon, let’s go.” The woman extended a dark, wrinkly hand. Seeing Cadance’s reticence at first, she said with a wink, “Now, c’mon, I ain’t gonna bite – but the cops just might.”

The alicorn in human guise reached up to grab the hand, and it was warm, filled with life. Cadance wasn’t sure how to explain it, but it was just one of those moments, she sensed, where the thing to do was go with her.

“Well, c’mon,” the woman said, using her cane to point in the direction she was heading, “Headed to Caesar’s. They got this great buffet – serves lobster every Tuesday – and my nephew’s the maître d’, so he always sneaks me in. We can talk there. Got a name?”

“Cadance,” she blurted out before she suddenly realized that she had no idea what her cover identity was supposed to be. Twilight was going to give her that information, but she’d bolted before that had occurred.

“Cadence, huh? Like the musical bit?”

“Actually, it’s short for Mi Amore Cadenza,” the pony-as-human admitted.

The woman paused in thought for a second. “Well…now I can see why you go by Cadence. Let’s get going, girl, Lobster Thermador waits for no one!”

“And what’s your name?” Cadance said, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“Oh, it’s Tillie. Short for Matilda, which isn’t a name in style anymore, but hey, what comes around goes around, so it might just be again someday.”

“You did what?” Trixie Lulamoon, recently named by Entertainment Weekly as “The Hardest Working Showmare in the Business” looked at her close friend with utter shock. “You. Just. Got. Here!”

“We know, Trixie,” Spike said, exasperated. The moment they realized she was gone, both of them raced from the Aqua Maré to the Venetian, where Trixie had her current show. When Twilight’s former-rival-turned-friend decided to go back into show business three years ago, she opted to take a shot at audiences on Human-Earth instead of Equestria. While Twilight had offered her the headlining gig at the Aqua Maré, Trixie declined, insisting she had to prove to herself that she could be The Great and Powerful Trixie on her own four feet. Those years had proven fruitful and Trixie was now an entertainment force to be reckoned with in the City that Never Sleeps.

“Trixie, I already feel horrible about the situation,” Twilight said, slumped over the table, her drink hardly touched. “I’m trying to save Cadance and I screw that up first thing!”

“Mistakes happen. Celestia knows I’ve made more than enough,” the blue mare said as she knocked back her own drink – herbal tea, since she was going to be on-stage again in an hour. “Look, I’ll be working for the remainder of the night, but I’m off tomorrow, so I can help you look for her then. Besides, I can put out some feelers in the Warehouse after hours.”

“The Warehouse?” Twilight asked.

“In-town Magician’s Club, just for stage illusionists. Was going to take you guys as a surprise, but I’m guessing that we’re in for a bigger adventure than originally planned.” At seeing the sudden look of dismay on Twilight’s face, Trixie said, “Twilight, her highness is a big filly and can take care of herself – as I recall, you said she used to take care of you.”

“But I—”

“But nothing. My show starts in an hour, so I want you and Spike to sit and enjoy and unwind. All that stress isn’t healthy for you and while you might be worried about her, I’m worried about both of you, got that?”

“But—”

“If I don’t see you sitting front stage in my reserved seats, I’m going to pull both of you on-stage and be a part of my act. And since neither of you know some of the tricks I’ve developed lately, it’ll be embarrassing for you,” the blue mare said with a wry grin.

“Fine, fine,” Twilight said, unconvinced. She could only hope that Cadance wasn’t somewhere insidious at the moment.

“…and so I got here, way back in 1973, having wanted to move from my family’s home down in Tupelo, for the bright lights of Los Angeles,” Tillie told her dining companion. “I’d fancied myself to be a movie star, or maybe a rock star. Unfortunately, I ran out of money by the time I reached here and had to take a job just to make ends meet.” A fork flickered towards the Lobster Thermador, spearing its target and then lifting it towards its goal, Tillie’s mouth. “As you can guess, Vegas wasn’t as family friendly back then as it is now and there were very few places that were safe for a naïve, countrified twenty-four year old gal. Fortunately, I was having lunch at the Sands trying to figure out where to go next when a man came up to me, said I was a pretty young thing and offered me a job. At first, I was afraid – I’d heard stories about the Mob and what they did to young girls like me. But then he showed me his card and showed me around the Club and I was interested. And then he offered me $20,000 a year, which back then was fortune!” she said, clapping her hands in glee.

Cadance, eating a salad, listened with rapt attention as the woman went on and on about her years of meeting celebrities and the wealthy. Names, almost all completely unfamiliar to the alicorn princess, were spoken of with such delight and endeavor that it was clear that Tillie, despite not making it to the human entertainment capital had succeeded beyond her wildest dreams at what she’d intended to do. It was a fascinating accomplishment by any being on any world, and despite her sorrow the Avatar of Love found the briefest of smiles on her face.

The smile did not go unnoticed. “Why, I do believe that’s the first time I’ve seen you smile, Cadance,” Tillie said, her own grin as warm and sunny as a Vegas autumn. “Feeling better now?”

“Yes, thank you,” she admitted, taking a bite of a deviled egg she’d had on her plate.

“That’s good to hear. You’re too young to be so sad-faced like that. Why, you have your whole life ahead of you,” Tillie said, her tone sage and authoritative. “One of the happiest moments in my life was when I met my Emmett. He gave me a full life, the kind of life that every woman aspires to, full of love and laughter. That’s exactly what you need, girl – you need someone to make you smile and laugh and prove to you that every day just gets better.”

Cadance’s fork rattled on the plate as she suddenly let it go. Looking down and fighting tears, she spoke in a ghostly voice, “I had that, not too long ago.” She buried her hands in her face as the sting of sorrow came to her eyes once more, as she moaned Shining Armor’s name, feeling his loss once more.

Tillie nodded sagely. “So that’s the problem. You lost your knight in shining armor.” The old woman reached over with a leathery hand, patting the younger woman on the back. “How long ago?” she asked, her voice warm and comforting.

“Six months ago,” Cadance said, unable to stop crying. “He was sick for years, and the disease…poison…whatever…it…it….” Cadance felt she was barely going to hold it together at all. Part of her wanted to change back to her normal form and launch into the sky, far away, not caring about where she was headed. Part of her wanted to take the continued slide into oblivion, with little concern where the end of the roller coaster would lead her. She was a ship adrift without rudder or sails, lost to the buffeting winds of pain and battered by the waves of despair.

“Dearie, I quite understand. It wasn’t so long ago I lost my Emmett. He’s gone now, and all I have are memories, children and grandchildren. But do you know what I have most that I cherish – that you still have from your beau?”

Cadance looked up, her tear-stained eyes suddenly curious as to what the woman had to say. It has to be some maudlin, stupid thing that I haven’t already heard from my aunts, or Twilight, or my parents, or—

“I still have his love, forever in my heart,” Tillie said, placing her hands over her chest as a beatific smile came to her face. She then guided a hand to her mind and added, “And as long as he’s still here, in my mind, then he’ll always be here, and I’ll always have his love.” Tillie reached over with a cloth napkin to wipe Cadance’s tears away, saying, “And your boy – he would never leave you if he could. I have a good sense for things like that – the look in your eyes, the way you speak about him, why, it was almost as if he were a prince, sweeping you off your feet and making you a princess out of a fairytale. And a strong man like that? Definitely a keeper and you kept him as long as the Good Lord would let you – and there’s no shame in that.”

At that point the dam broke in Cadance’s heart, and she let go of her emotions, crying uncontrollably for the loss of the stallion she loved. Despite everypony’s cares, concerns and considerations, she was still the Princess Royal and she still had duties to maintain – there would be no time for mourning. But now, so far away from Canterlot and her station, far from the pressing paparazzi asking her how she felt about being a widow and would there be another stallion in her life again, away from well-intentioned but overbearing kith and kin and finally able to let go…she did.

Suddenly, as she let loose every tear she’d held pent up within her for the last half-year, she felt warm strength envelop her as a pair of aged arms encircled her. “Let it go,” Tillie cooed, letting the “younger woman” soak her shirt with tears. “It doesn’t do to hold it all inside until you hate the world and all its brightness. It doesn’t help to scream within yourself until you hate Creation and all its joys, even as you turn yourself into a husk with nothing to live for. Your knight in shining armor would never want that for you – no sane person ever would.”

Tillie continued to hold the redhead in her arms as the young woman just cried softly, letting everything go. After a few minutes, the girl named Cadance finally surrendered to oblivion, collapsing into a restless, exhaustive sleep. Tillie gently let the girl lean back into the booth’s plush upholstery as she flagged down her nephew. As he approached, she asked, “Rodger, think you can get me a taxi? Don’t think I’ll be taking the shuttle home tonight.”

Rodger gave his aunt an all-too-familiar look, then briefly looked at her dining companion. “Collecting another one, Aunt Tillie?” he asked, a resigned look coming to his features.

“An old biddy like me’s gotta have some hobbies, Rodger,” she laughed while favoring him with a wink. “Some play the slots. I play guardian angel.”

“Someday that’s going to get you in trouble, though,” he admitted to her. “You just might pick the wrong person to help, Aunt Tillie, and…well, I worry about you. You’re not getting any younger.”

“Oh, hush now,” she said, waving a dismissive hand. “I got a good feeling about this one. She’s purehearted, and she lost her husband just recently, she said. “I think he must’ve been the only man she ever loved, because she’s got a hole in her heart that doesn’t look like it’ll heal anytime soon. And sometimes, they never do.”

“Fine, fine, fine,” he said, waving his hands. “But you should have Mackie or someone stay over tonight.” As she was just about to protest, he leaned forward and said, “Just humor me, okay, Aunt Tillie?”

She merely grinned, as if it was what she wanted in the first place. The moment he realized that, he shook his head and just walked off. Once again, his aunt had everything under her complete control – you didn’t survive in Vegas unless you could play the game, and after all these years, Rodger was still discovering that if there was a master at the game, it was his aunt.

“Twilight, her highness will be fine, I’m sure of it,” Trixie said, looking at her friend as they had drinks at the Warehouse. They’d arrived an hour ago, and the stage magicians that were coming off their performances were all too happy to give a hand to Trixie as she asked. But Vegas was a large town, and none of them reported seeing anyone like that at any of their performances. From The Incredible Alan to Zelda the Magnificent, stage performers had told the unicorn what they had seen in their audiences…and the only results were nothing.

“Trixie, you don’t understand,” Twilight said. “She could be hurt! Or dying in a ditch somewhere, or….”

“That is a possibility,” Trixie admitted, “but I doubt it. From the few times I’ve spoken to her, your sister-in-law seemed to be a very levelheaded mare, and I don’t think she’d do anything that would jeopardize her own life. You’re right to have some concerns, but I think they’re not at a crisis level yet.”

“You know Twilight,” Spike said, shrugging. “Once she gets her mind set on something, there’s not a single pon—OW!” He suddenly rubbed his head as Twilight removed the fist she’d used to bonk him on the head. “Twilight, that’s not fair! I’m worried about her too, you know!” For his response, he was given a blistering glare by his older sister.

“This is going to be a long night,” Trixie muttered to no one in particular, “and I need to get to bed soon if I’m going to get some sleep – I do have a charity performance tomorrow morning at the Sands Foundation.” Waving an arm in the air, Trixie signaled for the bartender to bring the check.

“Trixie…look, I’m sorry,” Twilight replied. “It’s just that—”

“You’re worried about her. That’s you to a tee, Twilight – even before we were friends, that’s just your nature,” the azure unicorn replied. “Besides, after I do my performance, I can meet you tomorrow at your hotel room and we can continue looking. They’re going to be doing some maintenance on my stage tomorrow, so I have no performances until Thursday. But we’ll find her, I promise you.”

Twilight was about to say something, when someone approached the table. He looked more like a heavy metal guitarist than someone who would be here in the Warehouse. With his long, dirty brown hair, beard and goatee and leather vest and pants, he seemed the type to more pick up a guitar and start shredding out Black Sabbath. “Heya, Trix,” he said in a friendly, but gravelly voice. “Long time no see.”

“Oh, Drake!” the unicorn gushed, the smile on her face genuine. “Guys, this is Drake Garfield, better known by his stage name of Draco the Dangerous. He’s an escape artist, and his show’s over at the Hard Rock – he handles the really dangerous stuff, and he’s one of the best, honestly.”

“You mean the best,” he said with a laugh. “I haven’t killed myself yet, though I’m sure my ex-wife would prefer I did. And you two are?”

“Drake, this is…Tanya and Spencer Sparks, a couple of old friends of mine,” she said in turn, remembering her friend’s disguises. “They’re looking for their sister-in-law, who got lost.” Trixie passed a picture of Cadance’s human form over to the man. “Look familiar?”

“Yeah, Stan was telling me about that,” he said, then added to Trixie’s friends, “Stan’s the bartender here, in case you guys didn’t know.” Looking back at the unicorn, he said, “Well, I was having dinner with Ashley over at Caesar’s earlier tonight—”

“I thought you hated Caesar’s.”

“I do,” he said with a grimace, “but when your girlfriend works there as a showgirl, you have to learn to put up with it. Anyway, I think I might have seen her having dinner there with someone.”

“You sure?” Twilight gasped.

“Not really,” Drake said, somewhat sheepishly. “I was…um…kinda preoccupied with my girl, and looking at another woman isn’t the best way to get onto her good side. But if you want to ask someone there, talk to Linda McGee. She’s a waitress on-duty and she’s Ashley’s roommate. Linda should be able to tell you for sure if it was her. Why, is something up?”

Trixie nodded. “Cathryn…well, her husband passed away months ago, and while Tanya and Spencer brought her here to get her mind off things, it might have made it worse somehow.”

“Yeah, Vegas’ll do that to ya,” he said. “I gotta go, but best of luck to you guys and if I hear anything, I’ll give you a call, Trix.”

As he departed, Stan came up with the check and instantly Trixie produced her card to pay for the tab. “Get some sleep, Twilight, and we’ll pick this up in the morning,” the showmare insisted. “You’re not going to do her highness any favors if you’re bent out of shape for nothing.”

“But—”

“You’ve forced my hand,” Trixie said, sadly. “If you don’t get some sleep, I swear I will not take you to Blueberry Hill, got that?”

“Blueberry Hill?” Spike asked.

Trixie grinned. “You’ll see, Spike. Just make sure she gets some sleep. Now let’s get going. It’s going to be a long day – let’s not make it longer.”

Interrupted Cadance, Part Two

The first thing Cadance noticed when she came to was that she was still in her human form. The second thing she noticed was that she was laying on a couch, definitely not the one in her hotel room. She wasn’t sure where she was, to be honest – but the Aqua Maré it was not. She’d been gone for hours, without telling Twilight or Spike where she was, and that meant that Twilight was probably going to blow a fuse or two.

I know she’s worried about me, though, the mare thought to herself. At least I know she and Spike are there for me. My ‘real’ family couldn’t be bothered to do much more than come to the funeral, and despite all their knowledge, my aunts really don’t deal well when it comes to death in the family.

She sat up, hoping to get a better grasp on her situation, and as she did, she noticed she was in someone’s home. There were shelves and furniture, pictures and platters, and signs of someone’s well-lived life. The furniture was well-tended and weathered, showing the signs of times enjoyed and moments created. Part of her winced at the view; she’d wanted something like this with Shining Armor, along with all the other things that any couple wanted: foals, anniversaries, just the two of them moving on into eternity. But that never happened, and Cadance was left to suffer the slings and arrows of sorrow.

“Oooh, yeyayay! We gots a hottie here!” Cadance turned to see a young man standing there, not much older than his teenage years, if her shaky knowledge of human biology was anything to go by. Wiry and rail thin, he was dressed in a tank-top and baggy pants that were worn down past his waist, which from what she knew of human fashion, wasn’t exactly normal. He had a hairstyle somewhat reminiscent of Pinkie’s, and what looked to be facial fur, though not much of it.

Cadance looked at the teen with an odd glance. “Um…good…er, morning?”

“Yusyusyus!” the boy said, theatrically waving his hands. “Now, lookie what Santa brought me and it ain’t even Christmas yet. I gots me my very own hottie!” Leaning uncomfortably close to her, he said, “So, baby, what did I do right to get you in my life?”

Now Cadance was completely confused. “Huh?”

Before the boy could add anything further, a voice erupted from around the corner, its tone clear, firm and most of all, loud: “MACARTHUR THOMAS FARRELL, YOU LEAVE THAT POOR GIRL ALONE, YOU HEAR ME?”

Suddenly the young man’s bravado deflated and he looked more akin to a typical adolescent. “But Grandma—”

Striding from around the corner, wielding a cooking pan, was Tillie, dressed in a simple dress with a grand smile on her face. “Mackie, I won’t have you bothering my guests in my house, got that?” He nodded silently and she gave him a smile to indicate all was forgiven. “Go wash up, now, breakfast is going to be ready in just a little bit.”

Cadance looked at Tillie, completely confused.

Tillie shook her head, chuckling. “Sorry about that – grandchildren can be such a joy, but at the same time, when they reach their teenage years, well…I’m sure you know.”

Now it was Cadance’s turn to smile. “That I do….” Her mind drifted off to the day when she’d first met Shining Armor. He’d been just a high school student at the time, with plans to attend the Royal Guard Boot Camp and a precocious little sister whose destiny had yet to be realized. Cadance had shown a rare rebellious streak after arguing with Celestia and defied her aunt’s curfew, sneaking out of the castle and disguising herself as a normal unicorn named “Tinka-tinka-too” – where she’d gotten the name, to this day she wasn’t sure – but after accidentally bumping into Twilight, she’d turned to apologize to the small filly, instead setting her eyes on the most beautiful pair of blue orbs she’d seen in her life. At that point the budding young Avatar of Love fell head over heels, and spent the day with the two siblings.

She’d been discovered after the Guards had finally tracked her down, and while Celestia had been both worried about and furious with Cadance, the younger alicorn accepted her grounding with grace. The following week, she started to set on her new goal in life: getting herself a very specific coltfriend, a goal that was, Cadance later found out, well helped along by Celestia. Was it because even that early the sun alicorn saw the raw talent within the young filly at Shiny’s side, or was it because she was genuinely happy for Cadance’s choice? To this day, the Avatar of Love didn’t know, and she knew she’d never get a straight answer out of her aunt.

Sometimes it was just better to let the memories remain just that.

“Well, if you go wash up,” Tillie said, unaware of the other female’s trip down nostalgia way, “I’m making my special hazelnut pancakes recipe. I guarantee Mackie’ll eat about half of them before you even sit down – growing boys are like that.”

Cadance rose from the couch, feeling somewhat refreshed, but also at the same time, a bit embarrassed. “Tillie, I….”

“You were in no shape to go back and face your loved ones, Cadance,” the older woman replied. “Sometimes it takes just talking to strangers – or rather, friends you haven’t met yet – to sort your issues out and find your way back to where you belong.”

“You sound as though you know a lot about that.”

“You don’t live a long life like I did without a little sadness and pain,” Tillie said with a soft smile, “but in the end, it all makes it worthwhile.” Pointing with the pan, she gestured down the hall. “Second door on the right’s the restroom. Once you’re done, through the doors over here—” she added, now pointing in the opposite direction, “—is the kitchen. We’ll be waiting for you there.”

Cody MacArthur Fett-Today at 7:16 PM

The Sterling conception now works, and that final scene with the two of them together is "aww" inducing.

“Mmmph!” a contented Spike said in-between bites of food. “This is really good, Trixie!”

“I love coming here,” the pony said, a slight smile on her face. At the moment, she was using an amniomorphic as well, that of a buxom blonde who looked more at home in Southern California than in Vegas – the disguise, Trixie said, was more for her friends’ sake than for her own, as “people in this part of town rarely get starstruck by the performers who eat here.”

Twilight looked at her friend and sighed almost theatrically between bites of a Belgian crepe dish Trixie had recommended. Truth was, she wasn’t really hungry, but instead worried sick about Cadance. In the past, the unicorn would have simply just gone into a blind panic; now, she was long-used to formulating plans and ideas on what to do about the situation. Unfortunately, nothing she could think of would solve the current situation at hand, and so she ironically found herself pining for the days where she could just go into a mindless spasm of chaos and paranoia. In some ways, it was comforting.

“No it’s not,” Trixie said aloud, taking another bite of her omelet without looking up from it. As a curious look crossed Twilight’s currently-human features, Trixie then looked up as she took a sip of her coffee and said, “I know how you think, Twilight. You’re a long ways away from the ‘Twilight Spazzle’ incident you told me about, but that doesn’t mean that you’re still not capable of slipping now and then. After all,” she said with a wink, “we’re only human.”

Spike chuckled at that. “Speak for yourself, Trixie. I’m not sure I’d ever make a good human – still trying to get used to the limited vision.”

Twilight ignored the conversation and instead looked at her friend. “So, what’s your plan?”

“Well, I figured we could start looking in the shopping areas. Sure, ponies don’t exactly wear what humans do, and they probably don’t have anything for the equine physique, but I’m sure there’s a lot of other things that Cadance would want for her home, right?”

“You mean the home she tried to burn down last month?” Spike asked. When Trixie looked at him oddly, he sighed and added, “She saw something in the house that reminded her of Shining and she just lost it. Thankfully Apple Bloom dropped by for an unexpected visit or it could have been much, much worse.”

“It’s part of the reason I moved her into my house two weeks ago,” Twilight responded. “In addition to the fact that her own needs to be fixed, she doesn’t need to be alone right now.”

“No,” Trixie answered, “what she doesn’t need right now is to be treated like a precious porcelain pony. She’ll turn up when she’s ready, Twilight. Like I said, I’m more worried about you. At least pretend like you came here to see an old friend.”

Twilight nodded at the chastisement. “I’m sorry, Trixie. I guess I haven’t been a very good friend since I’ve been here. It’s just….”

The stage magician nodded. “I know. And truthfully, if the situation was reversed, I’d be just as panicked myself.” The smile on Trixie’s face, however, was genuine as she added, “But you also have to think about how she feels: she probably thinks she’s a burden on you, or that she’s hurt your family terribly by letting her husband die, or any of a million thin—”

“But I would never think that!” Twilight verbally exploded at her friend, causing a commotion. As all eyes in the diner settled on her, she suddenly realized she was standing up, leaning forward and looking at Trixie with anger in her eyes. Chastened by her situation, the normally-lavender unicorn sighed. “Sorry,” she murmured.

“I’ve dealt with worse from you, Twilight; I can certainly deal with merely being yelled at,” the normally-powder-blue unicorn flashed her friend a wan smile. “But that’s not the point. The point is two-fold,” she said, holding up two fingers. “First, while I very much know how you and Spike feel about her, and she knows that as well, she’s not thinking in a very reasoned mindset right now, and so her mind could be anywhere. Secondly, you are wound up tighter than a drum kit, and that won’t do Cadance a bit of good. I keep saying this; I feel like I’m on constant repeat and you’re just not listening.”

Spike looked up from his plate. “Yeah, you know Twilight….” he replied.

“Not funny, Spike,” his sister huffed.

Trixie just shook her head and would have thought about ordering a mimosa if it wasn’t for the fact that this location didn’t serve alcohol, she was the one driving and they still had to go see Drake’s contact about the rumor from the previous night. Thankfully, Twilight was a friend now, and not a rival.

Though I might have to rescind that status temporarily if she doesn’t calm down, Trixie thought to herself.

“…and this is our wedding day,” Tillie said, showing an aged photo album to Cadance. “Emmett was the perfect man that day, and I had to admit – me in my wedding gown? – I must’ve broken a few hearts that didn’t chase me when they should’ve. I can just imagine the jealous stares my dear Emmett got after the honeymoon,” she said with a wide, nostalgic smile. “What about yourself?”

“It was….” Cadance paused at what to say: how could you explain to a human about the changeling invasion, her fiancé being compromised by that monster and all of Canterlot under the sway of parasitic creatures hellbent on domination and emotional vampirism? “It…didn’t go well at first….” was all she could say.

Tillie looked at the (seemingly-)younger woman and in those eyes there seemed to be nothing but pure sympathy. After a few seconds, she gave an understanding smile and said, “Let me guess: wedding crasher?” When the astonished look came onto Cadance’s face, as she wondered how the human woman had figured it out, Tillie nodded sagely and said, “My nephew Rodger…his fiancée’s ex-boyfriend showed up to ruin their big day. Almost would have, too, if it weren’t for the fact that Maria comes from a family of big, beefy bouncers. Had that poor boy running for his life in under a minute, I swear!”

“Something like that happened,” Cadance was finally able to admit. “Fortunately, we were able to deal with it.” She said nothing more, and Tillie didn’t pry any further. Instead, the two continued on, going over Tillie’s memories, occasionally drawing from Cadance’s own memories and letting the two women stroll down Nostalgia Road, sharing bygone times of their husbands and pasts.

“So, Mackie, that girl’s okay with Aunt Tillie?” Rodger asked his young cousin over the phone.

“Man, this sucks! Hottie in the hou—”

“Mackie….”

The teen huffed. “Fine. Grandma’s bonding with the girl just like she always does. As usual, she’s doing her thing and you don’t have to worry.”

“Of course we have to worry! She doesn’t have much longer and…well, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” The boisterous teen was suddenly deathly quiet. “Just…let’s not talk about that right now, ‘kay?”

“Deal. I don’t have to work evening shift tonight, so you, me and Aunt Tillie can go see a movie tonight. I’m sure that girl’ll be back with her family by that point and things’ll be back to normal.”

Mackie laughed. “With Grandma? When have things ever been normal?”

“Look, unless you’re the cops, I ain’t sayin’ shit!” the voice on the other side of the door said.

Trixie stood there for a second and wondered if she could get away with producing a Las Vegas PD badge; she knew quite a few of them and performed at their charity benefit last year, so she was on good terms with them. But I think I’d like to stay that way, she realized, as she just let the woman slam the door in her face.

“Okay, looks like we’re done here,” she told Twilight.

“Trixie! You didn’t even try!”

The stage magician sighed. “What did you want me to do, Twilight? Break down the door and threaten the woman until she gives us what she wants? It doesn’t work like that here! Come to think of it…it doesn’t work like that in Equestria, either! What has gotten into you?” Twilight’s response was to scowl and walk down the steps to the car. Watching her storm off, Trixie muttered aloud, “Well that went well.”

“Sorry, Trixie,” Spike told her. “Twilight’s just really worried. Rainbow and Rarity told me she was the same way when I ran away from home one time to ‘find out about my dragon-ness.’ She was snappish towards her friends and then when I got home I didn’t hear the end of it and then she told Mom, Dad, Shiny and Cadance and I got those lectures, and then she told Celestia and….” He shrugged. “Needless to say that she’d be doing the same thing for you if you were missing – she’d do it for anypony.”

“I’m not sure that going one step short of tearing the town down brick by brick is the best solution,” Trixie replied, “and at this point, I have to wonder if Twilight’s seriously considering even that option.”

“Probably.”

“Well, let’s get back down to my car before she decides that she needs to drive to Primm just in case Cadance went there. If we don’t stop your sister, she might just expand the search range to Palm Springs.”

Making sure that nopon…er, no one was looking, Twilight cast another quick spell. Green fire briefly flickered around her hands, and a spell circle briefly appeared beneath her before fading away. Thankfully she’d taken the time to learn the dragon magic systems, as it was far easier using dragon magic while using the amniomorphic than her natural pony spells. She expanded the spell’s search radius to ten miles out, and she’d find Cadance this time.

Part of her knew that Cadance would find some way to let her, or the authorities, or somepony know if she was in trouble. But Twilight had lost too much lately, and even still, her family roiled from all the blows – one of the biggest examples of that lived just 275 miles southwest of where she was now. Cadance was falling apart from the death of her beloved husband, and as much as Twilight grieved for her older brother, she still needed to be there for Cadance.

Her fingers lit up again with green fire as the spell reported back: nothing. She thought about increasing the spell’s range, but even for her there was a limit to what she could do with magic, and as a car came into the parking lot, the chance for using spells undetected had just disappeared. She closed her eyes, frustrated about the lack of help on anything.

“Twilight….” Trixie began.

“I can’t give up,” one unicorn in disguise told the other as the second approached. “You don’t understand….”

“Twilight, I do. More than you can imagine.” Trixie reached into her shirt, pulling out a necklace; it was a simple silver chain upon which rested a small, iridescent chime made from mother-of-pearl. “I wear this, from time to time, to remind me of Pastel Chime. I would have done anything to save her, Twilight – she meant so much to me.” To get her point across, Trixie intentionally slipped into her old habit: “Trixie would have not become the mare you met if Pastel Chime was still alive.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Twilight told her friend.

“Nor is what happened to your brother yours.”

“I know that.”

Trixie shook her head. “No, no you don’t. Twilight, you forget: I know you. I know you obsess about things, and you forget that as a stage performer, I have to know how to read my audience – I’ve even had to learn human body language cues, and believe me, that’s not easy. So I know when I have to be careful with an audience member. And right now? Everything in your body language – even the human ones you’re using now – is telling me that you’re blaming yourself for everything that’s happened in the last year.”

Twilight just stood there, agape, looking at her one-time annoyance and now longtime friend. The veil had been pierced.

Lunch was Cobb salads, courtesy of Tillie’s grandson, who suddenly had changed from his boisterous teen actions earlier and seemed now like a well-behaved young man, Cadance noticed. She also noticed that Tillie looked somewhat tired, though she still made an attempt to look lively. “Tell me about your husband, Cadance,” she asked. “I’ve told my stories; now it’s time to tell yours.”

Only Cadance’s long years of duty as a royal prevented her from panicking at that moment. How could she describe her beloved stallion? If Tillie were a native of Alter-Earth – or at the very least, aware that Cadance wasn’t really human – it would be so much easier. She wouldn’t have to find a way to dodge the truth, to hide th…

You’re acting as though you’re ashamed of him, her conscience chided herself, and with an inward sigh, she stopped. She loved her husband, gone or not, to ever treat him like that. He was the only stallion to ever see her as herself, not as the then-Crown Princess. He’d loved her because she was Cadance, not because she was Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, with the paragraph’s worth of titles behind her name. He’d loved her because she’d taken such care of Twilight and Spike when she’d foalsat the both of them. He’d loved her because she was everything to him, and he was everything to her. He deserved better than that.

“My husband,” she began, “was a soldier who fell in love with me despite my upper class birthright. No one had ever looked at me or spoke to me the way he did.” She grinned and said, “It probably also helped that my aunt, who raised me, knew his parents and I occasionally watched his younger siblings when they weren’t around. So it was natural that he and I fell in love. Even when he went off to the military academy and I started getting involved with my aunt’s, um, business, we never lost touch with one another, and we always held true in each other’s heart. And then, on one, er ‘memorable’ day, we got married.”

“Memorable?”

“Remember that you said there was a wedding crasher? Well, there was: a…slightly unhinged…‘admirer’ of his. She actually locked me in a closet and then dressed up as me to try to marry him and hope he wouldn’t notice.”

“Good thing he did, right?”

“Well…she also drugged him so he wouldn’t notice.” Cadance figured the little white lie was close enough to the truth that it would keep to the general flow of her story. “Fortunately, his little sister was very observant and was able to figure it out, rescued me and at the end of the day, we solved the problem and I had a very happy marriage.”

“Until he left you?”

“No.” Cadance’s voice was very quiet. “Until the day she murdered him.”

Tillie looked at the other girl and knew there was a story to be told; Cadance, in turn, knew she had to say something but wasn’t sure what there was to voice. “I won’t push you,” the older woman said, “but there’s a story in there that has to get out. Something inside you that is eating you alive and you don’t want to admit to anyone. You feel it’s wrong, and yet you keep it in until it destroys you. I know secrets like that…I have secrets like that. Don’t let them tear you apart, young lady.”

“What did they do to you?” Cadance asked.

Tillie was very quiet as she set down the book and looked Cadance straight in the eye. “There was a time when Emmett was on the verge of being fired by his boss…it was the 70’s, and back then people didn’t care much about one another, no matter how much folks nowadays portray it on TV and the movies. Because it would have hurt us, and his boss knew it, he propositioned me: become his mistress, or Emmett would lose his job. Even then, in Vegas, not much call for a black man being a lawyer back then…that’s just the way things were.

“To save him, I….” Tillie was very quiet. “Emmett, my dearest love…he was a good man. He loved our two children with all his heart and soul, even though I think he knew he wasn’t really their father. I never told Aaron or Sally – what could I say? That their mother saved her husband’s job by sleeping with his boss whenever he wanted? That I lived up to the Vegas stereotype of being a whore? That I did what I did out of love, even though it probably wasn’t the right thing to do?”

A tear slid down her aged, leathery cheek. “Emmett…to his dying day, he never knew. And when his boss had a heart attack back in ’76, the company partners offered him the position, maybe to make up for what they knew was happening. And they’re all gone now and the kids Emmett and I raised are happy with their own lives. Aaron lives in Austin and works for a computer programmer, one of those video game studios Mackie’s always going on about. Sally works for the State Department and lives overseas in Germany with her family, though Mackie’s staying with me until he heads off to college next month. They’re both good kids…and they’ll never know how their mother was a little bit naughty in order to make things right. That’s a story that I will carry to my grave, and only one other soul alive knows it: you.”

“I see,” Cadance said, turning to look out the window at the clear sky and the desert in the distance. She gazed out the window for a long time, wondering if she could confide in the woman – Tillie obviously thought the reverse was true. Cadance’s, however, was the much larger secret. But it wasn’t the only one, she knew, and that one didn’t apply anyway.

“My husband…while we were married, she poisoned him and seduced him. He didn’t know and it would be unfair of me to hold it against him. And yet, even as he was dying, I…spurned him when he needed me most. Because all I could think of was him with her. And it wasn’t his fault. It was never his fault. And if I’d just cared enough, I could have saved him.”

“But you never stopped loving him, right?”

“No. Never. I could never stop that, even if I wanted to – which I didn’t. Even now, six months after he’s been gone…he’s still there for me.” She held her hands close to her heart, feeling her own heartbeat. As a human, it felt different than her normal form, but it was still there. And a memory came to mind:

“Cady,” Shining Armor said, as he watched her looking over the balcony at the Crystal Empire. The land, now that it had been rediscovered, was to be integrated back into Equestria, and Cadance was to serve as the governor-general and representative from the Crown. The ponies present were all too willing to become a part of society once again now they knew what they missed, and a side-effect of that was that their princess and prince consort had become even more popular than their princess regent hundreds of miles south in Canterlot.

She turned and looked at him, standing there in his guard armor. Even though as prince consort his duties were more political now that military, he still insisted on spending time with the guard, reassuring them that he was one of them. But today would be different. “Do you have to?”

“I’m the best one for the job, love,” he told her, walking over to the balcony. “I have to protect all of this that we’re building. I have to protect my family, and I have to protect the mare I love.” He leaned forward, giving her a gentle kiss. “I’ll find Chrysalis and put an end to her for once and for all – she won’t have a second chance.”

The look on Cadance’s face was one of near-heartbreak. “Please, be careful – I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.”

He grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ll have Silversteel with me and some hoof-selected troops. Besides, if anything happens to Silver, Rarity would probably never let me hear the end of it.” As the romance alicorn chuckled from his slight joke, he continued. “And I don’t have to worry about anything ever happening to me, because I have your love, Cadance, and with that love I am invincible.”

As Cadance’s mind came back to the present day, she blamed herself for that lie. “I should have held him close to me. I should never have let him go and face her. I should have done something.”

“But that wasn’t the real problem, was it?” Tillie asked, leaning back in the chair. “Let it go, Cadance. You’re right on the verge of letting go.”

Cadance nodded.

And then she changed.

In all her years, Tillie had seen a lot. She’d been through a lot and experienced so much. She’d even had a few brushes with greatness, like the time she got to shake President Carter’s hand the day she was invited to a special banquet the government held for the Equal Rights Amendment, or the day she’d met King Faisal ibn Saud of Saudi Arabia when he was just a prince spending money like no tomorrow in the casino she’d happened to be in. She’d lived a life few had expected.

But she hadn’t expected to see a live alicorn, one of the alien royalty of that other world discovered about a decade ago, sitting here in her living room. Seeing the forlorn creature standing there with pure heartbreak on her face was wrong somehow, and Tillie looked Cadance in the eyes as she said, “Girl, I knew there was something different about you, and there was a reason you were beating around the bush. I figured you being European royalty or something.”

“Well, I am royalty,” Cadance admitted, “though I don’t care to dwell on it. And my name is as I told you earlier: it’s my real name.”

“Well, as I live and breathe,” the human woman said, going to lock the door to her room as she figured Cadance would appreciate the privacy, “I never figured to meet such a figure of beauty…with a broken heart that wounded all.”

“Wounded all?” Cadance said, her brow arching. In response, Tillie sat back down on the couch and patted it, bidding the alicorn to come. Cadance returned to her human form and sat down, still curious.

“Now tell me the truth, Cadance – and you don’t have to hide any of it.”

Cadance nodded. “I loved Shining Armor – that was his name – more than any mare could ever love a stallion,” she began, “and considering I’m the Avatar of Love, that’s saying a lot. But…I feel as though I betrayed him by spurning him in those last months when he needed me most. And I let him die when I could have saved him. And I don’t feel I can ever forgive myself for that.” She buried her face in her hands, letting the tears come.

But she hadn’t expected to be drawn into an embrace by the older woman. “You can let the tears come, young lady. It’s okay to cry.”

“Young,” Cadance laughed bitterly. “I might not look it, but I’m sixty-three.”

“And I’m a spry eighty-six years old, so you’re just a spring chicken with so much to live for,” Tillie said with a wink. “And I’ve seen a lot in my years, enough so that I can say that no matter how bad things get, there’s always a silver lining on the next cloud. How did your husband die – really die?”

“He was poisoned by Chrysalis, a demonic creature who tried to take my place and seduce him…she did, I think. But in the process, she poisoned him and it slowly and surely killed him.”

“Could you have done anything for it?”

Cadance shook her head. “Our finest doctors and mages tried, but to no avail. My aunts, Celestia and Luna – avatars more powerful than I and virtually goddesses – tried and failed.” The look on Cadance’s face was bleak as she said, “And in the end, all I could do was just let him die.”

The smile on Tillie’s face was beatific as she folded her hands, looked straight at Cadance and said, “Then you did the right thing.”

Twilight woke up on a couch in an unfamiliar place. She also found, to her surprise, that she was back in her normal unicorn form. As she sat up, a cup, held fast in soft light-blue magic, floated before her as a soft voice said, “Here. This should help.”

Twilight took the tea and drank. “Thanks, Trixie. Where are we?”

“My place,” Trixie replied, as she sat down on the other side of the couch. No longer using the amniomorphic, she was dressed in the same shirt and jeans as before, just magically retailored for her native form. “Nice little two-bedroom cottage in Henderson, didn’t cost me much,” the stage magician continued. “Former member of the Blue Man Group sold it to me when he decided to leave the group and move to New York. I fell in love with it and…there ya go.” Trixie felt something rub against her; she looked down and felt an orange and gray cat rubbing against her, purring contentedly. “Ah, there you are!” Reaching down, she picked her pet up. “And this is the lone thing I’m responsible for around here: my pet cat, Tabby Kadabra. He’s a sweet little fuzzball.”

“What are we doing here?”

“Well,” Trixie said softly, “I sent your brother out to get us some lunch, since I didn’t feel like cooking. It was a good enough excuse to get him away so you can tell me all about why you blame yourself for what’s happened.”

“Oh, that,” Twilight said. “Um…could you forget about that?”

The look on Trixie’s face was one of hurt. “Twilight, when I was at my worst…I lashed out at you, hated you and tried to run you out of the town you’d settled in. Granted, I don’t expect you’ll be booting me out of Vegas anytime soon, but…I want to help. Let me help you like you helped me so long ago.”

Twilight was silent for the longest time. “Have you ever felt that you’ve failed your family?” When she got a deadpan stare from the conflower-hued unicorn, she added, “Worse than normal? For years, I’ve tried to be the backbone of my family, both natural and extended. And yet one instance after another, it’s blown up in my face: DJ’s disappearance and her arrival here on human-Earth. Bloomie’s and Fluttershy’s still births. My parents’ deaths, and then my brother’s. Making Rarity lose DJ a second time. Watching Lyra and Bon-Bon fall apart. And I felt like at some point or another, I could have done something to stop that, to heal the wound and stem the tide.”

“I see. And when did you decide that you were responsible for everything on Earth?” When the look on Twilight’s face was one of utter bafflement, Trixie knew she’d hit her mark. “Twi, you might be the Element of Harmony and the most powerful unicorn on our world, but you are still just pony at the end of the day. You are her majesty’s protégé and a member of her family – but you’re not an alicorn, and unless somepony has some secret plan that I’m not aware of, you never will be.”

Trixie reached out and took her friend’s hoof in her own. “Don’t do this to yourself. I know what it’s like to walk down that dark path, to think that you have to bring everything to your halter and that the weight of the world and everypony on it sits on your withers. You’re meant to be the bright and shining hope for our world, not the mare cursed with a Phaethonean task.”

“Trixie…you don’t understand. I made a promise to Celestia that I would do my best to look out for our family. I cannot shirk that duty.”

“Twilight…you made a vow to your Princess that you would not. And you’ve kept that vow. But let your family look after you, as well.” The look of confusion went on the lavender unicorn’s face and Trixie met her friend’s gaze. “The truth is…this vacation wasn’t just for your sister-in-law, Twilight. The fact is that your sisters intentionally bowed out because they wanted you to have a vacation.” Trixie got up from the sofa, went over to the coffee table by the front door, then returned with a letter. “Here.”

Twilight took the letter in her telekinetic grasp. “It’s from Fluttershy.” Opening the letter, Twilight read, and the look on her face went from confused, to one of hurt. “Why didn’t…. Why didn’t she…why didn’t they...?”

“Because they love you, Twilight,” Trixie answered. “Because Fluttershy asked me to watch over you while Spike was supposed to watch Cadance. You can blame your brother for being lax in that – and I don’t think you should, for the record – but don’t blame your family for being worried about you. You have sisters that would do anything for you, Twilight, and this is what they did.”

Twilight read the letter from Fluttershy once more:

FROM THE DESK OF
DUCHESS ANDALUSIA
MINISTER OF HEALTH AND FAMILY SERVICES
KNIGHT ELEMENTAL, KINDNESS

Dear Trixie,
I know I am not as close to you as Rarity, Sweetie Belle or Apple Bloom, but it’s with my sisters in mind that I’m asking for your help. Twilight has been through a number of personal crises lately, and with the anniversary of Shining Armor’s death, I’m afraid both she and Cadance won’t take it that well. We have tried to do everything we can, but there’s a limit to what a pony can do and…well, even as the Element of Kindness, I can’t remove her pain.

Spike knows that Twilight’s arranged to take Cadance on a vacation near where you live on Human-Earth. I don’t know if there’s any way you can help, but you are one of the closest ponies to her outside of our family, and maybe a friend can do what family cannot. Please do what you can.

If there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.

Sincerely,
- Fluttershy

Twilight read the letter once more, then let it go as she looked at Trixie again, the look of confusion giving way to an expression of horrific sorrow and with that, Twilight finally broke down and cried. Within seconds, Trixie took her grieving friend in her arms, holding her tight and letting the unicorn release her pain.

Outside, a young man reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone and dialed a long-distance number. The moment the other side connected, he said, “She’s taking care of it.”

Thank our stars, a familiar voice said. “We were all worried, Spike. Are you sure there’s nothing we can do to help?”

“I don’t think so,” the dragon-in-human-form answered. “This is something that both Twilight and Cadance need to work out for themselves – separately. Trixie’s taking care of Twilight and that means that I still have to find Cadance and hope I can be of help. I mean, yeah, I’m not Twi, but I am still family.”

“I’m proud of you, Spike. You’re a stallion of your word.”

He laughed. “C’mon, Celestia. You’re going to make me blush – that doesn’t really look good on the human form, I’m told. Let the others know that as soon as everything’s okay, I’ll give another call. In the meanwhile, I’ve got other things to take care of.”

“I’ll leave it in your capable hooves, Spike. Bye.” As Celestia hung up, Spike put the phone back in his pocket and walked to the rental car. Best thing to do now was to go back to the hotel and wait for Cadance. She’d probably be back in due time and needed a shoulder to cry on. Best if it were someone who cared.

“I did the right thing?” Cadance asked the old woman. “How could you even suggest that?”

The smile never left Tillie’s face as she said, “You spared him from a world of pain, and that is one of the greatest duties a wife could ever have for her husband – or vice versa, if things had been different.”

“You don’t understand!” Cadance gasped. “I could have given him immortality! I wanted to spend forever with him, and I could have!” When the look in Tillie’s eyes made it clear she didn’t understand, the romance alicorn clarified: “There is a special spell that only alicorns can do and only once in their lives: if we find someone who is our heart’s desire, we can live with that soul forever. Our souls intertwine, and they receive our immortality just as we have it. They get no other powers and they don’t become alicorns, but….” Cadance blushed. “Well, that’s what Aunt Celestia says, and even she’s not sure of the spell herself. Apparently her mother knew for sure, but....” The alicorn shrugged.

“But you also said that the disease he was affected with you couldn’t find any way to stop.”

“That’s right, but I still fa—”

“What life is there living forever in pain? Even if he spent forever with you, what good would it have been to have him in eternal and everlasting agony?” Tillie asked. “I’m not going to get into religious beliefs or that he’ll always look down at you from Heaven or whatever it is your people believe, but you spared him a life of pain.”

The old woman patted Cadance on the cheek tenderly. “It’s always hard making the decision to let go. You want just one more moment with them, to relive the happiest moments and see their smile just once more. But if you keep them through the pain just for your own happiness…it’s not joy, it’s not bliss. It’s using the one you love the most just for your own selfish ends. But you didn’t do that. Of course, right now you don’t see it that way, and it’s sometimes hard to even admit it to yourself. But, in the end, I’m sure you would have rather let him pass on instead of living forever in the grip of torture. It’s what makes us stronger as true loves, because we have to endure that.”

Cadance sat there, quiet as a mouse, as if digesting the words. She then said the thing that was foremost on her mind. “You’re…taking all this rather easily, Tillie.”

The old woman nodded sagely. “I’m an old woman, Cadance, and when you get to be my age, the surprises and shocks just don’t rock you like they used to because there’s less and less to wonder and magic in life – if you’ll excuse the expression.” But the woman looked at the alicorn and added, “In any case, you’re bypassing my point, young lady.”

“No, I was getting to that,” Cadance answered. “But I still don’t understand why—”

“Because sometimes you have to let the past go and live in the present, Cadance. You are a woman – mare? – whose life has been on hold since your husband died, because you didn’t know how to let go. But those around you are still alive and still in need of you in their lives, I’m sure – especially since you’re a princess from another land. Me? Well, I’m just an old biddy who gives her grandnephews more grief than they probably deserve. But in the end, even I matter, and Emmett, bless his soul, wouldn’t want me to give up on them just because I miss him so. I suspect your gent wouldn’t want the same either.”

“I…see.”

“No, no you don’t, but you will,” Tillie assured her. “And the first step to that is making up with the family you have here – you did mention that you had your brother- and sister-in-law here, right?” When Cadance nodded yes, then Tillie said, “You have to make things…think…thi….” Without warning, Tillie’s eyes rolled into the back of her head and she hit the ground, shuddering.

Interrupted Cadance, Finale

“You sure about that, Dillon?” Trixie asked as she held the phone in her hoof. “Okay, thanks – I owe ya one.” Hanging up the phone, the stage unicorn turned to her friend and said, “Suit up. Just got confirmation as to where her highness is.”

“You found Cadance?” Twilight leapt from the couch where she’d been lying down. While it had been good, admittedly, to just relax and waste away the worries and whiles with an old friend, with Trixie’s pronouncement, the fears and concerns rushed back in. A part of Twilight’s guilt kicked in at that point: for a moment, she’d been so relaxed, she’d completely forgotten about Cadance’s situation and focused on her own relaxation.

“Yeah,” Trixie answered, who had rushed over to her kitchen table to grab her car keys. “One of my stagehands, Stacey, has a boyfriend, Dillon, who I met at the company picnic back in May. Dillon’s a trauma care nurse over at St. Rose’s, a hospital a few miles down the road, and they said they just brought in someone from Boulder City Hospital for ICU. Anyway, he sounded a little confused, but it sounded like the match Cadance is using for her amniomorphic.”

Twilight was already on her feet, recasting the amniomorphic. A second later, she changed her mind and cast a different spell, retailoring the human clothing she wore for her natural pony body. She wobbled a bit as she readjusted to walking on her hind legs, something that she never completely got the hang of in her normal form.

“Are you sure about this?” Trixie asked, obviously referring to Twilight’s decision to stay in her natural form. “I thought that secrecy was of the utmost.”

“If Cadance got hurt, I might need all my power to heal her, and I can’t afford to waste any on the amniomorphic,” Twilight insisted.

“There’s also the chance that Dillon could be wrong. He’s a smart guy, but he sounded confused and…well, let’s be honest, a trauma care nurse is already bombarded by a bunch of things.”

“Give me coordinates and I’ll teleport us,” Twilight said, as her posture became one of aggression, an emotion not typically found in the pony body language.

“Oh no you’re not – you’ll spook enough people as is, Twi. You call Spike and tell him to meet us there. Have him look for my car; we’ll park by the Emergency Room. And please calm down – I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for all of this.”

“Lady, you’re cray-cray, you know that?” Mackie told Cadance as she went over to the Administration desk and paid for all of Tillie’s medical bills.

The redhead shrugged. “I can pay for it. Look, I was in Milwaukee a couple of years ago and I know that not everyone has the same level of healthcare that I do and so I’m offering to assist.”

“Uh, for one, Grandma’s healthcare is taken care of already by her retirement plan from her old job. And two, who just casually pays for expensive medical treatment on a black American Express card?”

“Um…me, I guess,” she responded, not sure how to answer that. True, when they were issued the cards they tied directly into their personal accounts and the credit card company was more than willing, given the circumstances, to issue the cards in the false identities, but was there something odd about the card that she pulled out? She picked it back up, looking at it. “Well, it’s not expired, so…what’s the problem again?”

Mackie threw his hands up in frustration. “Women, I swear. Never gonna understand these bitche—”

“Okay, Mackie, that’s enough.” Standing at the door was Rodger, who looked like he’d just bolted from the parking lot. “You’ll have to excuse him, miss – he’s understandably worried about his grandmother, my aunt. And we do appreciate the offer, but Aunt Tillie’s care is well taken care of, so it’s not necessary.”

“I see….” Cadance said, still not completely sure if she shouldn’t. But the man she looked at the moment gave a soft nod, so Cadance retrieved the card, much to the relief of the hospital cashier, who had never seen that level of credit in her life and was having near-apoplectic fits at having such a treasure in her hands. “So, if I may ask, what’s wrong with Tillie?”

“Let’s let these fine folks do their job and I’ll tell you on the way to her room. I understand they have her stabilized now.” Rodger gestured to the door, and both Mackie and Cadance followed. As the trio moved on, Rodger spoke. “For some time now, Aunt Tillie’s had somewhat of a bad ticker. She had a really bad stroke a few years ago, and she’s gotten better since, but….” He looked down at the floor, sighing. “Sometimes, when you get old, you wear your mind out before your body – but with Aunt Tillie, it happened the other way around. She’s like one of those rock stars from the sixties that lived on far longer than any soul ever had a right to, but we thank God that she did. But someday – and it wouldn’t surprise me if it’s someday soon – she’ll be gone from our lives.”

“I see.” Cadance’s mouth was a tight line as the guilt sank in. She was dealing with a woman who was at the end of her life, and all Cadance did was to step into that life and give her more pain and grief. That was the last thing in the world the romance alicorn wanted – would ever want to do – but she went and did it regardless.

“Now don’t hold yourself responsible, miss,” Rodger said, looking at the distraught young woman standing there. “Aunt Tillie’s tough, and she’ll probably make it through this. Wouldn’t be the first time she’s done something like that. And even if she doesn’t…none of that is your fault. Aunt Tillie would rather pass on knowing she helped a gal like you with your problem than to not do a single thing about it and walk on by. It’s just the kind of woman she is.”

“May I see her?” Cadance asked. She didn’t know if she had the right, but there was something about the woman that she’d felt a kinship with in the past few hours that made the alicorn need to see this through – whatever it was. If she didn’t, a part of her knew that this was going to be a far bigger regret than anything she’d ever dealt with before or since.

The group was silent on the elevator ride up to her room. What could they say? The trio didn’t know about each other and they’d never asked anything about her. In fact, the only thing they had in common was Tillie. So Cadance started there. “Mackie, right?” she asked the younger man.

“Yes’m,” he said, not at all the boisterous youth he’d been when she’d first met him earlier today.

“So you said you were going to college in the fall?”

“Well….” The kid sighed. “The fact is that I was going to go to USC to study medicine, but my scholarship dried up, and now I’m screwed.”

“Dried up?” Cadance wasn’t familiar with the term, but the tone didn’t sound good.

“It’s nothing…don’t worry about it, miss,” he answered.

“Cadance. Just call me Cadance,” she replied.

“Will do,” Rodger said. “As for me and Maria, we promised my mom that we’d watch out for Aunt Tillie, since we’re the only ones who live nearby. It’s just that…well, it hasn’t been easy, but we’re glad that Aunt Tillie’s held on this long. My oldest kid is graduating from high school this year and Maria and I are hoping Aunt Tillie will be around to see it.”

“I’ll make sure she is,” Cadance promised. When the two men looked at her strangely, she smiled softly and said, “Trust me, it might sound odd, but I have a few, uh, strings I can pull in. Trust me, she’ll be fine.”

Mackie looked at the beautiful redhead standing there, so sure of herself at a time when the situation would weaken anyone, and he just shook his head in confusion. “Just friggin’ cray-cray,” he muttered to himself.

The trio had just arrived at the door to Tillie’s room when a nurse standing nearby said, “She’d like to see you first, miss.” When Rodger and Mackie both gasped in surprise, the nurse shrugged and added, “It’s what the lady asked for, and we’ve stabilized her, so I don’t see the issue with it. Are you a member of the family, miss?”

Cadance shook her head. “Just met her yesterday, truth be told.”

“And yet she asked for you. Interesting.” She then turned back to Rodger and said, “In any case, Dr. Goodell should be here in any moment. He’d like to speak with you, as you are the decision maker for the family, I take it?” Rodger nodded a simple yes; he wasn’t sure what else he could say at the moment.

“Uh, should I go in then?” she asked the two men. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“Go ahead. I don’t and can’t imagine why she’d want to see you instead of us – no offense meant,” Rodger added, as to not slight the younger woman. “Maybe it’s just something that she feels she needs to ask another woman instead of us. Besides, I have to talk to the doctor, and while Mackie might act like some young turk, I can promise you that he’s very broken up about this. So you’d be doing me a favor, at least until I can get a hold of my wife.”

“In that case, I’d be honored to,” Cadance said sincerely as she went to the door. She didn’t know why Tillie wanted to see her while she was in this frail state, but Cadance had a few tricks she could still pull up her sleeves. After all, it was only a couple of years ago that she had been on that goodwill trip around the country. She’d ended up doing it with just a small entourage, as she wanted to return back to her native world and her husband as soon as she could, but the trip had turned out to be a boon for those she’d been able to assist and a balm to her weary heart.

Part of her wanted to go back to that time, back when Shining Armor was still alive and she could take him in her arms and never let him go. But even then he was starting to feel the molecular-level destruction of Chrysalis’ poison that would eventually claim his life. Had he gone on that trip, she would have had him by her side…but it would have cost her the overall time extra time she’d had with him. The life of a royal was stressful as it was, and having a schedule like hers while ill would tax the best pony’s health.

Opening the door, she started to prepare a spell. She couldn’t keep Tillie alive forever – but maybe keeping her around for a few more years wouldn’t be so bad, right?

The moment they arrived at the hospital, Dillon was outside, having a smoke and waiting for Trixie. “Yeah, I know: I really need to ditch this habit,” he said, dumping the stub in the ashcan. “Stacey says the habit’s gonna kill me someday.”

“I’m not here to lecture you, Dillon,” Trixie said. At the moment, she stood between the human and the other unicorn, as Twilight practically vibrated with nervous energy. “I figure that’s what you have a girlfriend for. Anyways, thanks for the help. What can you tell us?”

“Don’t thank me, thank Drake. He and I chatted over breakfast this morning and he told me everything. Anyhoo, old woman was brought in about an hour ago from Boulder City. Three people with her: one man, one kid – probably a teenager – and one woman. She’s a redhead fitting the description; the rest of them, including the old woman, are black. They’re up in ICU right now. I can get you up there, but it’s going to have to take a bit to make sure that it’s kosher – we’ve got some NIH folks inspecting the hospital and so the administration’s in lockdown mode, if you get my drift.”

Twilight ignored all of what the man had just said and instead fixed her violet eyes on him. “Is she okay? What can you tell me? Please, I need to know!”

“Twilight, please – Dillon’s doing the best he can regarding the situation.”

“Friend of yours?” he asked.

“Sometimes to the point of regret, yes, but a very good friend nonetheless,” Trixie drawled before turning around and giving Twilight a dark stare. “She’s just worried about her sister-in-law,” Trixie continued.

“Um, sorry if this sounds odd, but…we don’t have any aliens – ponies or otherwise – that are here at the hospital recently, unless that redhead....” His mind short-circuited for a second before he asked the impossible: “Did she marry a pony? And here I thought that would’ve made the news, even here in Vegas.”

“Long story, Dillon,” Trixie said, feeling a headache building again. “Long, long story.”

From the moment she stepped into the room, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza felt a primal fear course through her the moment the smell of a hospital room wafted into her nostrils. From the few times she’d been in medical clinics when she was younger, she was used to the smell of a doctor’s office being one of lilacs and vanilla, of flowers and cinnamon, a combination of aromas meant to put already-skittish ponies at ease. But the assault of a human medical center was much different to her: powerful, alien odors that felt more akin to some of the more noxious chemicals that mages used in their spells as opposed to anything hinting at tender care and healing, but like so many other things human, it was a study in contrasts.

Cadance’s instinct told her to change into her natural form and cast a spell to counteract the stench within the room, but, with some effort, the romance alicorn brushed the instinct aside and remained in her human disguise while her spell sat at the ready. She’d already poured too much power into it in order to simply dissipate it without cost; if she were to change to her native form, she’d have to rest, recharge and then bring the spell to play again. In many ways, she envied Twilight: for all the “vaunted and infinite” power of an alicorn, only her aunts were of real mystic force. The only truth in Cadance’s avatar status was her form and her immortality; to the pink alicorn’s pride, her sister-in-law had well outstripped her in power and prowess long ago.

But none of that was important right now. Instead, she focused on the still form in the bed, a woman of remarkable life…that was drawing to a close, and for that, Cadance couldn’t help but feel a deep sorrow. In the very little time that she’d known Tillie, the woman had made a grand impact on her life. The alicorn of love felt a maternal tug towards the aged human in a way she’d never felt towards her own mother, who had dumped her nigh-unceremoniously in Canterlot; Celestia, the aunt had raised her and was more a mother to her than Quiet Solitude had ever been; Cozy Hearth, Cadance’s governess, who had been there for her since the very beginning; or even Twilight Velvet, who had adored Cadance since the first day they met and considered the alicorn just as much a daughter as her own flesh and blood. The four, all different facets in her life, all varying degrees of maternal care for Cadance, and yet it was this almost stranger that stirred those feelings in her.

Cadance sat down in the chair next to Tillie and wordlessly took the woman’s hand in her own, not knowing what to say. The tears came before she could even think to ask why.

“Shouldn’t cry,” a voice barely above a whisper spoke. “Not good for a gal’s complexion, you know. Especially when you’ve got so much to live for, Cadance.” The redhead looked up and there, looking at her through weakened but somehow still vital eyes, was Tillie. Even though she was breathing through a mask and hooked up to a series of machines, she seemed alive and hale, as if everything here was just a minor inconvenience that would be done with in just a second.

Cadance let go of Tillie’s hand and lifted her own; in it sat a pulsing ball of rosy light. “I’ll be honest, Tillie,” Cadance began. “While I can’t make you immortal, I can extend things. I can remove some of the dama—”

“Don’t want it,” the woman said weakly, though a soft smile was on her face. “All it would be doing is prolonging the pain, and not just mine – I know Mackie’s out there trying not to cry, and I know Rodger’s out there right now not sure as to what he should do. I know that my children are worried and are probably on the next flights here, Cadance. That’s a whole lot of pain for just one person, and I can’t do it.”

“But they need you, Tillie. So many people need you. Heck, I just met you and I need you,” Cadance admitted.

Tillie chuckled. “Not every day when a person says that they’re needed by an alien princess from another dimension – at least not outside of those videogames that Mackie plays.”

“Then let me help, Tillie! Let me—”

The old woman struggled to sit up on her bed. “No, Cadance. I know what you’re thinking and it’s…well, I’d be a liar if I didn’t say I wasn’t supremely honored for the gesture you’re making. And I see in your eyes that it’s taking a lot out of you to maintain that…whatever it is you have planned. But I cannot accept it!”

“Please!” Cadance said, her voice barely above a whisper itself but still filled with resolve. “Please let me help you.”

“No, and seeing that look in your eyes – that’s the worst reason why. And I will not have my death be on your conscience, young lady,” Tillie said with finality. “I know why you want to save me, and it’s clear as the sky, Cadance, even if you can’t see it right now. You don’t want to save me because I mean something to you – and I know I do, that’s not what I mean. But,” she said, reaching out with her hand to point at Cadance’s heart – or where her heart was while she was in her human form, “you want to save me…because you feel guilty for not saving your husband.”

Cadance’s became aghast at the suggestion and was about to comment, when the nurse poked her head into the room. “Visiting time’s over in ten minutes, and I’m sure that she’d like to see the rest of her family, miss.”

“I understand,” Cadance said to the nurse. As the door shut, Cadance reached out with a second spell. The door knob glowed a bright blue, then the magic aura faded away to nothing, though the spell remained; while it was in force, no one on the other side would notice said entryway until the spell was cancelled. “That should give us any extra time we need.”

“Now I’ve seen magic is real,” Tillie voiced, her eyes full of wonder for a second, but hardening once more as she then added, “Even still, I cannot accept your gift, Cadance. My time is coming – just like it is for all of us eventually – and I won’t be a pain to my family anymore…and I don’t want to be your instrument of guilt.”

“I don’t understand,” Cadance replied, even though her eyes said differently.

With what appeared to be a feat of strength for her, Tillie took Cadance’s open palm, still holding the ball of magic, then gently closed it, dissipating the spell. “It is time for me to be with my Emmett. And I know that someday you and your love will be reunited. It might not be tomorrow, or the next year, but there will come a day when you will feel him in your presence one day, Cadance, and you need to be prepared for that.”

“I’ll never see him again,” Cadance sobbed. “I’m…I’m immortal. Alicorns live forever. He’s in the Great Pasture, in a place that even my aunt Celestia has no power in. I’ll never feel his touch, never feel his forelegs holding me again.”

“You will,” Tillie promised. “As God is my witness, Cadance, you will. Maybe it’ll be in the way the sun shines, reminding you of his smile. Or maybe it’ll be in a dream, when he’s there to tell you he loves you forever. But he’s there, Cadance. What I said before is still true: so long as he’s in your heart, he will live on. So long as he lives in you: he will be just as eternal as you.” A wry grin slid onto her face as she added, “That demon only took his body, Cadance. She didn’t take the most important thing – his love for you. So long as you have that, he’s won.”

The romance alicorn blinked once, twice, thrice as something lit in her eyes: realization. So long as I have my memories of Shiny, he’ll never leave me, she recited in her mind. Is it really as easy as that?

It is, Cady, a voice in her head said, unbidden. It always is. She knew the voice, knew it as well as her own. And right now, she didn’t know if she imagined it or if they were words from beyond the Great Pasture – and it didn’t matter. She felt, just for a moment, the warm touch of a stallion once again, caught the scent of the cologne he used. And in that brief instance, the alicorn so used to mystic forces and eldritch power seemed to understand what magic – a magic that was her dominion yet something she’d never experienced herself before – was.

You finally understand, the look in Tillie’s eyes, said, though she said not a word. Cadance, in turn, looked at her with tearstained, but grateful eyes, and nodded slightly, her own eyes still reflecting the wonder of the emotions she was feeling.

“I think it’s time for you to go,” Tillie said softly. “You’re stronger now, and you understand. Shoulder the burden for others.”

“It is my duty,” she said as she shifted to her true form, the alicorn now standing in the room. “It is ever my duty, but as my aunt would say, ‘Even the wise have much to learn’, and I cannot thank you enough for this lesson, Tillie.”

“Don’t think of it as a lesson, Cadance. Think of it…as something you already knew, but just needed a little refresher.” Tillie winked and said, “Now get going. You have a family to talk to, and I have a family of my own to take care of. Take care, girl.”

Cadance nodded as she resumed her human form once more. “Will do,” the redhead said with a wide smile and tears of joy in her eyes. Then, opening the door and cancelling the spell she’d placed on it, she left.

“Cadance?” The moment Twilight stepped onto the fourth floor, she saw the redhead standing there, and it looked like she’d been through a lot. Whether that lot was good or not, the unicorn had no way of knowing.

“Twily?” Cadance noticed that Twilight was out of her disguise, running around in her normal form, but before she could ask, she was glomped by the younger mare, held fast as the unicorn hugged her tight. “I’m okay, Twily,” Cadance said as she returned the embrace, ignoring the stares the pair was getting at the moment. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

“Don’t do that again!” The look on Twilight’s face was somewhere between angry and terrified. “Do you know how much Spike and I worried about you?”

“Enough so that next time, please make it a vacation, okay?” a voice behind Cadance said. The redhead turned and found Trixie standing there, smiling softly. “Hello, your highn—”

“Hello, Ms. Lulamoon,” Cadance cut in. She didn’t want her secret revealed; things were already weird as is. “Sorry for the bother and thanks for helping Twilight.”

“She’s my friend. Dear Celestia on Her throne, Twi’s a pain but she’s my friend,” was Trixie’s only answer as Cadance turned back to embrace her sister-in-law, the two females letting the anxiety of the moment slip away.

Rodger looked as the redhead seemed to hug one alien tightly, chatting with another. He recognized the second one – Trixie Lulamoon, a magician at the Venetian. He’d caught her show one night; it was outstanding. But that didn’t explain why she was here…or how she was tied to that redhead, for that matter.

Mackie just looked at him and shook his head. “Don’t wanna know, don’t needta know,” the teen replied. “C’mon – let’s go see Grandma.”

It was a few days later when Cadance found herself at the gravesite of her husband and his family. Setting down the flowers by the grave, the romance alicorn could feel the gaze of her aunt Luna, who had accompanied her, but had moved away to give the younger princess the time to do what she needed to. It was a blustery afternoon in Equestria and the winds were whipping at the cemetery, but rather than having the local weather teams disperse them, Cadance requested that they be left as is. Somehow, she felt it was fitting.

“Shiny,” she said to the tombstone as she released the telekinetic grasp from the bouquet, “it’s been hard without you. And it won’t get any easier throughout the decades. These last six months…they’ve nearly torn me apart, made me go insane trying to find out how I could join you in death. But I had a revelation last week, given to me by someone who passed away two days ago. Life is meant to be lived by those who remain behind, because it’s our job to remember who was here once.

“Chrysalis is still out there somewhere, probably gloating over your death. I can’t let that happen anymore. While I can’t beat her – and someday, we will, I promise you that – I will do what I can to deny her even the smallest amount of victory.” Raising a hoof to her heart, she said, “So long as you live here with me, she’ll never win. She’ll never take you from me, love.

“It’s funny: I’m supposed to be the expert on love, the very embodiment of it. But I didn’t learn an important piece of the puzzle until a friend showed me. And now I’m more complete for it, and now I realize I’ll always have you.” She reached forward, touching her horn on the marble tombstone, feeling the cool touch of the stone on her horn. “I will always be your wife, Shiny. I will always be your true love.”

The alicorn spent several more minutes at the grave before finally turning back and walking down to the area where Luna waited for her. “Thanks for waiting, Luna,” she said. “I appreciate it.”

“I’m glad I could be here for you,” the night alicorn said, nuzzling her niece. “I’m always here to help you – my ministrations aren’t limited to just dreams, you know.”

“I know, and this is something I needed a different perspective on that neither you nor Celestia could provide,” she explained. “Just as Twily needed Trixie to help her understand that everything that’s happened wasn’t her fault, I needed someone else to explain to me what I should have already known. And I’m forever grateful for that help, even though I still wish I could have convinced her to accept the healing magic.”

“Sometimes things must happen for something else to happen,” Luna replied. “If I hadn’t been possessed by Nightmare Moon, my sister and I might never have reconciled, or Twilight and the others might not have come into our lives or a million other things, but the truth is that things happen for a reason. Mourn your friend’s passing, but know that there’s probably some good that can come from it.”

Cadance nodded. “And I think I know how I can do that.”

Mackie sat in the house that he used to share with his grandmother, alone. In a few days, his mother, father and siblings would return back to Germany, secure in the fact that Mackie was going to college in LA because of his scholarship – a scholarship that was now gone. Rodger and Maria had promised to keep quiet about that, but sooner or later, he was going to have to tell the truth to his mama and find some way to keep on. Maybe he’d join the military, or the Peace Corps or something to bide the time until he could save up to go to community college. He was serious about getting his medical degree, no matter how long it took – he owed it to his Grandma.

As he got up and went to the kitchen, he saw Rodger going through the mail. “Most of it’s bills, and Maria and I can take care of that, Mackie,” his cousin told him. “Look, as long as you don’t party up the house, you can stay here. Aunt Tillie paid it off long ago, and your mom and your uncle technically own it now, so I don’t think they’ll complain about family still using it.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he told his cousin. Right now he didn’t care about any of that. What he’d wished for, if anything, was a way to make his dream come true, so that no one would ever suffer the pains that his grandmother did in her last days. Thankfully that weird-ass redhead was here to bring a smile to Grandma in the end, Mackie thought with a smile.

“Oh, hey, letter for you,” Rodger said, looking at the envelope. “Office of the Princess Royal of Equestria.” He looked at that again. “Da heck? You know what this is about?”

“Beats me,” the teen said, taking the letter. “Think it has to do with that redhead that was with the aliens?” he asked, wondering if that was the case.

“You’re the one who got the letter,” Rodger replied. “You tell me.”

Nodding, Mackie opened the letter, pulling out the official looking letterhead and reading:

OFFICE OF THE PRINCESS ROYAL
OFFICE OF THE FOREIGN MINISTER
FOREIGN MINISTRY, EQUESTRIA

Macarthur Farrell
3789 Brooksby Lane
Boulder City, Nevada 89006
United States of America
Human-Earth

Dear Mr. Farrell, it is our pleasure to announce that you have been accepted into our “Bright Minds” program, developed specifically to enhance bright young minds on both worlds. The scholarship will be provided by the Foreign Ministry of Equestria and will be good for all costs and fees for any four-year institution that you may attend on either Earth.
Please fill out the attached forms and mail them in the enclosed envelope to our nearest consulate (in your case, Los Angeles) so that way we may begin to process your application soonest and begin your well-earned tutelage.

Congratulations!

Sincerely,
- Lotsa Luck,
on behalf of HSH Mi Amore Cadenza

HALLOWEEN SPECIAL: Six Minutes, Five Seconds

“Hey Mom, whatcha watching?” DJ plopped onto the couch next to her mother.

“An old horror film – an influential one, too,” Anna answered her daughter, grabbing the remote and pausing the vid. “Thought you were helping Sammy with his homework.”

“Didn’t take that long; besides, it’s just kid’s stuff,” she replied. “Heard from Dad?”

The woman nodded. “He’s going to be in LA at least until the end of the week – you know how much he hates dealing with Hollywood types. But he said he’d swing by Little Tokyo and pick up the stuff you asked him to. Unfortunately, it means that he’s probably not going to make it in time for Halloween.”

“It is what it is, like you say.” DJ scooted over next to her mother, moving her tail out of the way to make sure she didn’t sit on it. “So, what’re we watching?”

“I’m not sure you want to watch this, furball. Movie’s fifty years old but still scares the hell out of some people. Normally I’d even skip it, but I need to watch for research.”

She gave him a lidded look. “Mom, I’m eleven – I’m not a little girl anymore.”

“Okay, you asked for it, then. Movie’s The Exorcist. Halloween’s its 50th Anniversary and I’ve been asked to speak at an evening symposium on Halloween regarding horror films and their impact on culture. I’m the one approaching it from a comic artist’s point of view, and considering the anniversary, I thought this might be the movie to focus on. I understand a lot of big names are going to be there, so being a speaker’s going to be good for my career.”

“Dad told me about this one – he says it’s kinda weird, but in a good way.” She picked up the tablet and quickly read the Wikipedia page. “Yeah, I’m in.”

The look on Anna’s face was one of resignation. “Okay. Here’s the deal, then: make sure Sammy gets to bed on time while I grab my notes, then you can watch it with me – but if you get spooked, you can’t complain, got it?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it, no sweat.”

I don’t think that was a good idea after all. DJ lay on the bed in her room, watching as the clouds partially obscured the moon, causing the satellite to cast eerie, unnatural shapes against the opposite wall from the window. The autumn winds, blowing harder than normal tonight, whistled through the trees, creating inexplicable noises that were enhanced that much more by her naturally better hearing.

“Now I lay me down to sleep….” Wait. I’ve already said my prayers for the third time now. She thought about getting up from the bed to go get something to drink, but decided not to. That would be stepping into the dark, and it was a distance from her bed to the fridge. Would you stop that? C’mon, you’re almost a teenager, DJ! she chided herself. You really shouldn’t freak because you saw a movie where…. She shuddered involuntarily. Okay, maybe you should freak. But Mom did warn you!

She sat up, taking a few breaths. It was just a movie, right? An old one, at that – most of the cast was old or gone and the author was pushing 100, according to Wikipedia. And if anything, it was fantasy, and as a Christian, she was saved in any case, and she really, really, really shouldn’t worry about it, right?

She looked up, just in time to see something flit past her window. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she wasn’t about to—

SMACK! Something hit her window again. SMACK!

She looked at the window…

…and a pair of luminous eyes from a mysterious shape stared at her.

She bolted from the room, terror-stricken.

Meanwhile, the small bat, dazed from crashing into the window, recovered enough to fly away.

“Ms. Martinez, if you’re going to fall asleep in class, you’re going to end up with detention. You shouldn’t stay up so late.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Wilkinson,” DJ yawned, trying to keep her eyes open. She’d gotten no sleep that night, even though she ended up sleeping in her parents’ bed. That was embarrassing enough, since she hadn’t done that since she was her brother’s age. As the class ended, DJ stumbled to her feet, picked up her books and got ready to go to her next one.

“Hey, DJ, you okay?” Erica asked as she caught up to her friend. “You don’t look so well.”

“Long story,” she yawned.

“What, is the class too hard for the freak?” a voice taunted. Sure enough, Valerie Anderson stood there with a group of her friends, doing what she did best – making DJ’s life hell. “Does the little pony need some horse kibbles to stay awake?”

“I am not a pony you fu….” DJ bit off the retort, but only barely. God, she hated being called a pony; just because she was an alien who looked like she was related to equines didn’t mean she was one!

“Ignore her, DJ.” Carlos also showed up, then turned to Valerie. “You done being an idiot yet?”

“I dunno – you find your way back to the border yet?”

“So classy,” Erica snarked. “C’mon, you two, we’re going to be late for Spanish class.” As the trio walked past, headed towards their classes, Erica asked, “So what happened?”

“I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Anna, hon, I love you – but what were you thinking?”

“She wanted to watch it,” Anna explained to her husband as she spoke to him on the phone. “And we let her play Grand Theft Auto VII, which I think is a billion times worse, so I fail to see what the problem is.”

“Hon, I know she’s our little girl, but I think sometimes we forget that she’s not really human. Just because she acts human, doesn’t mean she’s going to always process everything through a human lens. Sometimes she might act on instinct – and equines do spook easily.”

“Well excuse me for treating my baby girl like my baby girl,” Anna snarked. “Good thing I’m not making enchiladas for dinner tonight – I think the salsa verde might freak her just a bit.”

“No, really?” Anna could hear her husband’s sarcasm practically dripping through the phone. “I know this symposium is going to be good for your career, but think of the kids, okay?”

“Don’t worry – DJ will probably hang with Erica and Carlos on Halloween, and Emily Marbury across the street offered to take Sammy trick-or-treating with her kids while I’m at the symposium.”

“Have you spoken to Mac and Bev about it? I’m sure they’d be happy to find something else other than slasher films to keep them busy.”

“I’m having lunch with Mac today, so I can bring it up with him,” she explained. “I’ll bet worst comes to he’ll let them watch the ‘Night on Bald Mountain’ sequence from Fantasia and that’s the worst that’ll happen.”

“Yeah, sorry to have to cancel out on lunch plans, Anna,” Mac explained over the phone. “The Administration asked me to chair the peace talks between the Liberians and the Rebel Front, so I have to catch a plane in an hour. And that’s on top of Bev having to fly up to Manhattan this morning to talk to her boss about some problem in the company, so she’s going to be up there a couple of days.” She could hear his frustration. “Sorry to have to dump all this on you – wasn’t expecting any of it.”

“Me neither,” she replied.

“Maybe Martín and Maria can watch them? I know you have that meeting in the District, so I’m sure they’d be happy to help out.”

“Doesn’t hurt to ask, I guess. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“Sorry, Mrs. M.,” Carlos’ older sister Elena said over the phone. “Mom and Dad are flying to St. Louis tonight, because my uncle Emilio’s in the hospital and he’s got nobody but us. And I’d offer to babysit, but I have to work that night.” The older teen said something just off-the-line in Spanish; Anna wasn’t really sure who she was talking to, but it was probably her parents. “Yeah, Mom feels guilty about leaving you in the lurch like that, but I told her you didn’t think it was an issue.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll find something to keep them busy,” Anna lied, knowing this was going to be really problematic. “Let your parents know I said hi, hope all goes well and and I’ll take care of everything on this end.” She then said her farewells and hung up the phone, knowing this was going to be a mess. C’mon, they’re just kids – put them in a corner with an XBox Mobile and they’ll entertain themselves for hours, she thought to herself. They’re tweens – how much trouble can they be?

“How do I look?” DJ moved around in her costume. “Does it look kickin’ or what?”

Anna looked at the costume. “You sure you’re not going to get in trouble with that costume at school?” Admittedly, the mother noted her daughter did a great job on the costume, but still….

DJ sat down at the breakfast table, removing her sunglasses and making sure her hair and tail were braided, which they needed to be, as she was dressed as Lara Croft from Tomb Raider. “No, I asked if I could, and they said normally they wouldn’t allow it, but….”

“Let me guess: you can wear it because you’re not like the other girls, right?” Anna didn’t know whether to be offended because DJ was being singled out, or be offended because DJ was being allowed to get away with a costume that traditionally showed a lot of cleavage…because she had none.

“Um, yeah, that’s what Mr. Bradbury said. I can change, if you want – I still have that Princess Zelda costume from last year.” At least she’d picked up that there was something wrong with it, though she wasn’t completely sure why, Anna noticed.

“No, that’s okay, furball,” Anna said as she made her children breakfast. “Oh, DJ, there’s been a change in plans for tonight. You, Erica and Carlos have to come with me to the symposium. Sorry, but everyone else was busy.”

“That’s okay, Mom, I understand – it’s not like we were going to a Halloween party or anything like that,” the pre-teen alien responded. “Where’s it at?”

“Georgetown. I hear the Student Union’s going to run a haunted house there, if you guys want to go.”

“I’ll check with Erica and Carlos. We’ll get out of your hair that way.”

“So, what do you guys think?” DJ asked her friends at lunch.

“Yeah, why not?” Erica thought, toying with her wig; she’d decided to come as Rapunzel, but the extra-long wig was giving her fits. “It’s that or sitting in a boring lecture.”

“I dunno….” Carlos, dressed in a cardboard-and-papier-mâché stormtrooper costume he’d made, said. “The lecture sounds pretty cool to me. Saw The Exorcist on Netflix on Thursday and I thought it was cool, though the updated CG effects stand out a little too much against the old film.”

DJ grinned. “Listen to you, Mr. Movie Director.”

“Well, it’s what I want to do for a living,” Carlos said. “When I grow up, I’m going to be a famous movie director, just watch.”

“We’ll be first in line to watch!” Erica promised.

“Just as long as I get to write the novel!” DJ insisted, and the three friends laughed.

As the four stepped out of the Car Barn and onto the sidewalk adjoining M Street, Anna looked at the trio. “Okay, here’s the plan: Carlos is going to come with me and we’ll be at the lecture. You guys are going to stay here at the Student Union Halloween Party, okay? I made arrangements so that you’ll be okay, and if there’s any problem, you have my number.”

“Got it, Mom,” DJ promised.

“I’m figuring this is only going to take a couple of hours, so you and Erica have fun. We’ll head home by nine and that should be that.” Anna pointed in the direction of a sign that led towards the Haunted House. “You sure you’re going to be okay, furball?”

“I’ll make sure she’s okay, Aunt Anna,” Erica said confidently.

Anna smiled. “Okay, then. Let’s go, Carlos.”

Someone tapped Valerie Anderson on the shoulder. “Hey, isn’t that the school pet and her buddy?”

Valerie, wearing an expensive Disney princess costume, looked. “Yeah, that’s the…whatever she is. Man, I cannot go anywhere without her screwing up my life!”

“Val, we got your back.” Casey, one of Valerie’s buddies, dressed as Sakura from Street Fighter, grinned wickedly. “Got any ideas?”

A third member of the clique, a curly blonde named Jenny, had an idea. “Well…we’re here with my sister, who’s part of the Haunted House, right? Why don’t we ask her to give them the ‘special’ tour?”

“You wouldn’t!” Casey said, stunned.

Valerie, who’d been told as to what the special tour was for, grinned madly. “That oughta scare the pants off her. Yeah, can you get Kelly to take care of it?”

“No sweat – my big sis is always looking out for me,” Jenny assured her friends. “She’ll take care of it.”

Carlos looked as though he’d been handed the gift of a lifetime. “Thank you!” he said, bouncy as could be.

“Thank you, sir,” Anna said, also appreciative. Of all the people to be there, she hadn’t expected him, even though she’d heard he lived locally. Matt’s going to really appreciate this, she said, slipping the autographed copy of the 50th Anniversary printing of the original Exorcist novel in her purse. After chatting with the author himself for a few more minutes, she took Carlos aside to a corner seat where she could see from the stage and said, “You going to be okay here?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Plus, I’ll be by the door in case DJ and Erica show up.”

“Good idea. I’ve got to head on the stage now. I’ll be back soon.” Ensured that the boy would be okay, she headed up to the stage, where she recognized a few individuals.

“Hey, Anna, that you?” a voice said behind her; she turned around to find a slightly portly man standing there adjusting his glasses. “Oh, great – it is you. Glad I caught you.”

“Clark?” Clark Byron was a games designer and author; she’d met him once at her publisher’s head office, where he’d been pitching a miniseries to them. “Hey, long time no see. How’s Stacey?”

“She’s with the kids at the Smithsonian right now, since this is the first time they’ve all been to DC. How are you, Matt and yours?” The two chatted for a few minutes, then Clark asked, “Hey, really glad I bumped into you here. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you anyway.”

“You have?”

“Yup. You know about the big announcement they’re going to make at the end of the lecture, right?” When Anna shook her head, Clark continued. “Disney just got the rights to do a remake of The Exorcist – and because they wanted a comic tie-in through Marvel, they tapped me to do the writing on the comic. Well, I told them that I wanted to pick the artist, and I really liked what you did on that Sawbones horror anthology last year, so I wanted to see if you were interested in doing the art. Gets better, too: from what I’m told, they’re going to use the comic as the storyboards for the movie, so you’ll get paid the usual going artist rate and the storyboard rate, too.”

“No kidding?” Anna smiled now; for a rare change it was she getting courted by Hollywood and not her husband. “So they’re announcing it tonight, huh?”

“Oh hell yeah! They even have the actress picked out to play the role of Regan, and here’s the best part: they have her doing something special tonight at the Haunted House the Student Union’s doing. Since they filmed the original here at Georgetown, they’re going to do the same with the sequel, and the Mouse House thought it’d be a great way to drum up viral interest.” Clark grinned. “They’ve got her down in makeup accurate to Linda Blair’s version and she’s going to get to scare the pants off of everyone there!”

The smile suddenly fell from Anna’s face as she realized that DJ was going to be there – and she’d been really frightened the night they’d watched the movie. “Thanks for the info,” she suddenly said, fishing her phone out of her purse. “I gotta make a call real quick. I’ll see you on stage.”

“Don’t be long,” he told her. “We’re about to start.”

Anna immediately dialed DJ’s number, as a pit of guilt and worry sank into her stomach. She immediately recalled her husband’s words: “Just because she acts human, doesn’t mean she’s going to always process everything through a human lens. Sometimes she might act on instinct – and equines do spook easily.”

Meanwhile, the connection on the other end announced, “We’re sorry, the number you have dialed cannot be completed at this time. Please check the number and try again. Thank you for using Verizon Wireless.” Just as she wondered what was going wrong, she heard a voice behind her seethe, “And they still haven’t fixed that cell tower issue? That’s it – I’m switching to Sprint.”

Anna’s heart became ice as she realized her daughter was about to be scared witless – and it would be Anna’s fault. Worse, because DJ would be in a situation she’d never been in before, there was no way to know how she’d react.

“So that’s it, huh?” Kelly asked her little sister.

Jenny nodded; behind her the other girls did the same. “We just want to play a little practical joke on her – nothing too bad.”

Kelly nodded. “Okay. For you, little sis, I’ll do it. I’ll get one of my friends to bring her in, and I’ll have you three stand in an area where you can take pictures…you know, for posterity.”

“Thanks, Kelly,” Valerie said, her voice dripping sweetness. “I really appreciate it.”

“Hey, no problem,” the college girl replied. “I don’t like bullies and if this girl thinks she can get away with bullying you, my little sis and your friends because she’s an alien and her buddy’s a Senator’s little girl, well, somebody’s gotta take a stand.”

As Kelly went off to arrange the whole thing, Jenny said, “Look, we gotta make sure we stick to the plan; if my sister finds out I lied to her, my ass is toast, got that?”

“Hey, don’t worry, we’re gonna get pictures of that freakazoid and her buddy pissing on themselves and once we get the pictures uploaded onto the net, we’ll finally show them who’s in charge!”

“Excuse me, are you Daisy Martinez?” a student asked DJ. She was wearing an official badge, and DJ made sure to snap a picture just as she was told to do, just in case.

“Close enough,” DJ replied with a smile.

“Good. Follow me, please. Your mother has been trying to get a hold of you and we’re going to have you wait in the student office until she arrives.”

“Is there something wrong?” Erica asked.

“Uh, no – it’s just that the lecture ended early and she’ll be on her way. They called the student office because cell connections are down right now,” the student answered.

DJ shrugged. “Seems legit. Okay, lead the way, ma’am.”

The student took them through the entrance of the Haunted House, which was decorated really creepily and had that music from The Exorcist playing in the background. Seeing the hesitant look on the face of the two girls, the other girl smiled and said, “Don’t worry. The office is in a backstage portion, but this is the fastest way to get there instead of having to walk around the building.”

DJ and Erica relaxed, following the girl. Had either of them paid attention, they would’ve noticed the light from a cellphone in the student’s pocket which was sending a phone signal somewhere else.

“Okay, just got a text from Suzi,” Kelly said as she addressed Valerie and company. The older girl was currently dressed in her costume, and it looked horrifying enough, but she assured them the real scare looked even more frightening. “First I’m going to stand there and give them a regular scare, and then the real actress’ll come in and freak ‘em out. That’ll be the cue to take your pics, okay?”

“Got it,” Valerie commented.

“Good. I think they’re coming,” Kelly whispered. “I’m going to get into position.” She moved into a wooden box, painted black, that she was supposed to jump out of. Meanwhile, the three younger girls got behind a barricade, where they would pop up after the scaring.

“This is going to be great!” Valerie whispered to her friends, as she suddenly heard a soft footfall behind her. The other girls did the same and turned around…

…staring into the face of hell itself.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

The scream in the distance was muffled, but fairly close. DJ looked at Erica, who in turn looked at her. “What was that?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” Erica turned to ask the student guiding them…

…only to find she wasn’t there. “Uh, DJ?” The other girl didn’t move a muscle, something that concerned Erica. “DJ?” Erica suddenly noticed that DJ was breathing heavily, panicking. She noticed the fear in her friend’s violet eyes, something she’d never seen before.

Erica did the only thing she could: she hugged her friend, saying, “Hey, it’s okay. I’m here, okay?” The alien girl suddenly relaxed as comforting arms went around her, as she loosened up. “It’s okay to be afraid, DJ. I’m here.” DJ said nothing, so Erica took her hand, and said, “C’mon. I’m guessing that girl was part of the tour and this was a trick. Let’s get going and—”

THUMP TUMP

“LET ME OUT OF HERE!”

TH-THUMP

The muffled screams of a woman beating against something in the darkness started to unnerve even Erica. It got louder as they approached, and Erica slowed down, drawing closer to her best friend. “We…we’re okay, DJ,” she gulped, the lack of confidence radiating in her voice.

DJ, meanwhile had mentally checked out a few minutes prior. She’d been scared into a blank state, just operating on numbed autocontrol. Vague images and muddy tones besieged her mind as if trying to get out, a piece of something in her brain trying to break free. As it coalesced, the most primitive part of her mind saw a vague blur of purple and white, whispering something that she couldn’t identify, and yet somehow it was warm and comforting to her. A part of her wanted to reach out to the blur, which seemed to get clearer in her mind – was it a half-formed memory of some ki—

“DJ! HELP!”

The alien moved on instinct, her body’s control not entirely hers. As she started to slide back towards consciousness, she felt herself, turn, bend, and kick. By the time she felt the cold of the floor, she heard a voice scream, “OW! You nearly broke my bloody arm, you—”

Then her vision swam again, and darkness sank in.

“Wha….” DJ opened her eyes, finding herself lying on a couch in a dimly-lit room. “Where….”

A raspy, inhuman voice suddenly spoke out, “Good, you’re awake. I was quite worried there for a moment.” DJ turned in the direction of the voice and found herself face-to-face with the creature from the movie the other night: shirt stained in green, bruised battered and scarred face with unnatural pupils and stringy, horrific hair.

Naturally, she screamed.

But the response from the demon wasn’t what she expected: “Oh! The bloody costume.” To her surprise, the creature ripped at her own throat, tearing off a piece of skin…and leaving more skin beneath. “There, that should right things. Apologies, miss – I’d forgotten that I was still wearing the kit.”

DJ stared. British accent? “Huh?”

The demon smiled, the effect looking weird. “Please, give me just a second – I’ve wanted to meet you all this time, and if I’d known you were here, things would have been much different, I promise.” The demon went over to a nearby skin, washing her face, and tearing off what DJ now realized were pieces of makeup. When the person turned, though she still wore the vomit-and-blood-stained clothing, her face was a lot plainer – and human. “Hello,” she said in the same British accent, “my name is Kyrie Mullins. I’m an actress.”

“Um…hi,” DJ said, somewhat shyly. “I’m—”

“I know who you are, miss,” Kyrie said with a smile. “You’re Daisy Martinez, the alien girl. I’ve wanted to meet you for a long time, since I played you once on TV.”

“You did?”

Kyrie nodded. “BBC 2 did a documentary on you a few years ago and I played the role for some re-enactment scenes. It was a lot of makeup and prosthetics, a lot more than what I’m wearing now. But it got me an acting career, and now I’m to play the lead in a remake of that old Exorcist film they made here ages ago, I’m told.”

“So, it was just makeup.” DJ suddenly felt very embarrassed, but suddenly realized very quickly that something was amiss. “The girl I was with. Where is she?”

“Oh, your friend? Campus police sent her off with one of theirs to fetch your mum,” Kyrie explained. “I offered to watch over you while you were unconscious. By the way, has anyone ever told you that you’re really strong? You kicked me hard and it felt like I was hit by a rugby player, it did.”

“Oh God, I’m soooooo embarrassed now!” she muttered, realizing she’d made a fool of herself in front of someone possibly famous.

“No worries – the fact that you were frightened means I’m able to do the job. Besides, you should’ve seen these three girls I scared earlier – I think one of them did herself in, in public no less,” Kyrie said. “Besides, all of this is make-believe and you’ve done things far braver than this.”

“I have?”

“Yes, you do.” The Britoness nodded, favoring DJ with a smile. “You, young lady, are the only one of your kind and you go through day to day just living your life as if it were the most natural thing there was. There are plenty of people in this world who cannot manage even that. I had to read about you to understand your situation for my scenes, and I was very impressed. You’re a brave young girl, and there’s nothing wrong with being afraid of make-believe monsters, because you’ve faced and beaten plenty of real-world ones, even if you don’t know it yet.”

“She’s right you know, furball.” DJ smiled as she felt her mother’s arms wrap around her from behind. “You’re my special little girl and you’re going to grow up to be a special young woman someday, DJ.” Anna looked at the actress and said, “Thanks for watching her, miss.”

“‘Twas but a lark,” Kyrie said. But she looked at DJ and said, “I’ll be in town for a few more days, helping the director look at locations. If you’d like, I’d like to spend more time together. As I’ve said, it’s been a dream of mine to meet you.”

DJ blushed slightly at the attention. “Okay!” she said, feeling better.

Valerie was completely mortified. Not only had Jenny’s sister locked herself in one of those “jump boxes” and they had to get her out, Casey had…well, they didn’t know before that the girl had a weak bladder, but they did now.

Meanwhile, the one they wanted humiliated, the freak, had not only looked as though she’d turned and lashed out at the actress – she kicked like a freakin’ horse! – but everyone was now suddenly worried about her, made worse that Erica was with her and Erica being a senator’s brat, meant that just about everyone was jumping to make sure they were okay…and Valerie and her friends had been forgotten in the process.

Okay, Martinez, you win this round, Valerie thought, but I’m going to get you. Sooner or later, I’m going to get you and you’re going to wish you’d never crossed me!

“Well, furball, sounds like you had an adventure,” Matt said to his daughter. He’d arrived home as planned, and upon arrival, had been told by a very happy DJ about her interesting week.

“Yeah. And Kyrie says that when she starts filming in January that she’d like me to be there and stuff. Erica and Carlos, too,” she added. “That okay with you?”

“Sure, as long as you keep up with your studies, I’m sure that won’t be a problem.” He stretched out and gave his daughter a hug, to which she leaned in, then gave her father a kiss on the cheek. “So, can we watch a movie?”

“Yeah, now that you seemed to have turned into a little horror film connoisseur, what are you up for? Texas Chainsaw Massacre? Nightmare on Elm Street?”

“Um…can we watch an anime or something? I think I’ve had enough horror movies for the year,” she admitted.

“Sure,” he said, glad his little girl was back to herself once more.

Author's Note

Wrote this on a whim (via Dragon) while my arm's been recovering. I know it's not my best, but it's just something that I did on a whim in less than a couple of hours. If I'd thought about it, I'd have done much of a more intuitive thing with it, but I'd heard today's the 40th anniversary of the movie, and that's what got me started.

Oh, and bonus to whomever can figure out what the title references.

The Archmagus' Lament

In a tastefully designed office in the Foggy Bottom neighborhood of Washington DC, an executive assistant spoke over the intercom. “Mr. Secretary, Ambassador Sparkle is here to see you.”

“Who?”

“The horse…alien…unicorn looking thing,” the admin assistant said, looking at the delegation before her and silently mouthing an I’m sorry.

“Ah, I’ve been expecting her. Please send her in.”

The assistant stood up, went to the door and opened it. “The Secretary will see you now, Ambassador. And I apologize for any, ah, unintended insult.”

The addressee, a purple unicorn, looked at the assistant and smiled. “None taken. Thank you for all your help.” Looking at the three behind her, the unicorn and her entourage, a celeste unicorn, a white pegasus and a golden brown earth pony, walked in behind her, into the office of the Secretary of State.

The Secretary, a thin man of Indian descent, looked at the four as they walked in. I’ve dealt with the Russians when they’ve been less than helpful, the North Koreans when they’ve been idiotic, and the Iranians when they wanted to declare war on everything short of the sky. But I never thought in my long career, I’d ever have to deal with aliens. “Please, Ambassador Sparkle, come in.”

“Thank you, Secretary Patel,” she said, offering a hoof. “And please, just call me Twilight.”

“Ah, then just call me Val,” he said, taking her hoof and shaking. “You wouldn’t know how many people trip over my full name of Vallabhbhai – President Mendoza herself gets it wrong on occasion.”

In turn, Twilight introduced her staff. “This is Lyra Heartstrings. She’s the most knowledgeable pony we have on humans, and she will be taking over as Ambassador once relations are normalized.”

“It’s an honor to be working with you, sir.” Lyra offered her hoof, calmly and surely. Normally, she’d be bouncy about getting the chance to meet real live humans who didn’t inhabit the pages of horror books, but she was supposed to show the responsible side of ponies, so Twilight had lectured her more than enough – followed by an additional lecture from Bon-Bon.

“Myself as well,” he admitted.

“Apple Cobbler will be our ambassador to the United Nations. She’s also very informed, and if possible, we’d like her to work with your liaisons to get us up to speed on human geopolitical situations.”

“Ah’d muchly….” She paused for a second, covering her mouth to cough, and then started again. “I’d appreciate any assistance you could provide, if you’d please.”

Patel nodded. “Dr. Rousseau is our Ambassador there, and he will be in town later this week. I’d be more than happy to introduce you to him.”

“Lastly is Soarin’. He’s one of our senior military members, and would appreciate being introduced to any appropriate military personnel. If we are to join the human world, our military has to be vastly improved.”

“Part of your Air Force, Mr. Soarin’?”

“What’s an Air Force?”

“As a pegasus, sir, you’d be considered Air Force, part of the aviation branch of the services. In any case, I have a meeting with General Baker – he’s the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, the day-to-day head of our military – tomorrow regarding the situation in Somalia. You’re welcome to join us.” Patel instead gestured to the table, and the chairs – love seats, brought in from other offices for the convenience of the ponies – so they could begin.

“So, I take it you wish to discuss the situation with what you call ‘the Lost Foal.’ My deputies have been handling most of the negotiations with you, but as of today I feel it is necessary that I take over negotiations myself. I hope this doesn’t inconvenience you.”

“Not at all,” Twilight answered. “In fact, I appreciate the candor.”

“You’re welcome. So, let me see if my deputies reported this to me correctly: in exchange for an alliance and the announcement to the world that your nation – and the others – exist, you want the return of this individual? That’s all your nation wants?”

“As relations normalize, I’m sure there will be more, but for now, yes, all we want is the return of Sandalwood.” Twilight tried to keep her voice neutral, even as her mind began swimming. Fifteen long years she and Pinkie had searched, fifteen fruitless, hopeless years, watching Rarity hang to a razor-thin hope that her oldest daughter, Sandalwood, would be alive somehow. And now, on a version of Earth where apes had evolved into the dominant species instead of their horse ancestors, Sandalwood was somewhere out there. “We feel it’s important that she be returned to us at once.”

Patel sighed; he knew this was going to come up sooner or later, and he’d just had this talk with the Brazilian ambassador yesterday. “Twilight, are you familiar with the doctrine of jus soli and jus sanguinis?”

“Well, I know enough Old High Pre-Equestriani to know that means ‘right of land’ and ‘right of blood’, but otherwise I’m not familiar with what they mean.”

“Your culture has had Latin as well? Impressive.” Patel was awed, but only for a moment. “What it means is that nationality is determined by where you are born – jus soli – or who your ancestors were – jus sanguinis. In many cases, it informs your personal identity. Most English-speaking nations on this world have a jus soli imperative, and as a result, those residents of those nations – ourselves, Canada, Australia, Britain, Belize, New Zealand, and others – are very loyal and civic towards their homelands. Jus sanguinis nations, however, is determined by your blood. My ancestors come from India, which despite the fact that is an English-speaking nation, operates on jus sanguinis – I could be considered Indian because of my heritage, but my wife, whose ancestors are from the Netherlands, would never be considered Indian no matter how much she tried.”

“I see,” Twilight said. “Under those circumstances, I’d have to say the Principality of Equestria is a jus sanguinis nation. I would have to confirm this with her majesty as it has never come up before, but I am certain that is the case.”

“With that said, bear in mind that Daisy Jo Martinez was issued a birth certificate. As far as the United States is concerned, she is an American citizen. And the reason I tell you this is because she’s spent fifteen years of her life here as an American. She knows nothing of Equestria or its culture; from what I understand, no one really knew what she was until we met you three months ago. She may not want to go back.”

Twilight tried not to let her shock show on her face. If Val was right, Sandalwood, or Daisy Jo Martinez as she was called now, wouldn’t want to come back to home, to all of them…to Rarity. But that made no sense! She was a pony. She belonged with her own kind, not with…. A flicker of anger appeared on Twilight’s face, and just as quickly she forced it away. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a chastising glance from Lyra. Lyra’s right: these aren’t the same humans that we read about in mythology.

Twilight sat there, with Val looking at her. Had he seen her sudden flash of anger? If so, how would he react? It would be vastly ironic, given their reputation in Equestriani literature, if humans were actually very peaceful and friendly, afraid of ponies that acted as aggressors.

There was a knock at the door, and the admin assistant poked her head in again. “Ms. Caldwell and Mr. Baird are here, sir.”

“Perfect timing, please send them in.” The door opened and in walked two more humans, a young woman with red hair and fair skin and an older man with dark skin and a bushy moustache. “Thank you for coming, counselors.”

As they walked in, both got a look at their hooved counterparts and stared. Caldwell was faster. “Mr. Secretary, in light of last week, with all due respect – you can’t be serious.”

“Indeed I am – and these are diplomatic officials, so I suggest you treat them as such,” he said with a velvet-covered threat. Turning towards the ponies, he gestured in turn to each. “Folks, this is Ambassador Twilight Sparkle, head of the contact delegation. Next to her, in order are Ambassador Lyra Heartstrings, who will be the incoming ambassador to Washington; Ambassador Apple Cobbler, who’ll be at the UN; and uh, I didn’t get your rank.”

“Lieutenant,” he replied.

“Just a lieutenant but one of the senior ranking military members, fascinating,” Patel said under his breath before modulating. “And Lt. Soarin’, their military attaché. Please, counselors, introduce yourselves.”

The man sat, speaking first. “I’m Albert Baird, Commonwealth Attorney for Frederick County in Virginia. I’m responsible for the jurisdiction Winchester is located in.”

The woman was next. “I’m Keisha Caldwell. Chief of Staff for Senator Tyson McAllister.” Turning to Patel, she said, “The Senator, as you know, has a keen interest in this issue, Mr. Secretary.”

“Commonwealth Attorney…would that be anything like a Regional Solicitor?” Twilight asked.

“Most likely yes, Ambassador,” Baird said.

Lyra turned to Patel. “Val, what’s going on?”

Patel looked at them all. “There have been…some complications. Mr. Baird, if you would please.”

Baird nodded. “On March 31st, on or about 10:07pm, Ms. Martinez was attacked by two unknown individuals, who were in turn assisted by four others with the possibility that there were more. Several members of Ms. Martinez’ family and friends were injured: her father, her younger brother and two young men who were friends of hers. From several reports, these individuals attempted to kidnap, and possibly rape, Ms. Martinez in front of her family. Two officers, Sgt. Wahid Muhammed of the Winchester Police Department and Senior Trooper Emily Marbury of the Virginia State Police, ordered the attackers to stand down and release the victim. When that did not happen, both officers shot and killed one of the assailants; the shots were fired when it was believed that Ms. Martinez was in imminent danger. The rest were taken into custody.”

The ponies sat there, slack jawed. Sandalwood, attacked? Nearly raped? What kind of humans would do these things to her?

Baird opened a briefcase and pulled out a manila folder. “We booked the assailants on charges of battery, assault with the intent to commit rape, attempted statutory rape, and attempted kidnapping. These are serious crimes, and given the number of eyewitnesses, I think we have a case where the assailants will be severely punished. Of course, the individuals will be tried in a court of law.”

Twilight nodded. “I think Princess Celestia would be very insistent that these individuals be given a fair trial and if found guilty, appropriately punished. And if I may be frank, I wholeheartedly agree.”

“I’m glad you agree, Ambassador, because I think you need to see who assaulted her.” With that, he handed the folder to Twilight. Twilight opened the folder, pulled out the photos, and gasped. The armor, the coat coloration…these were several members of Luna’s personal night guardsponies.

“From the look on your face,” Patel said, “you recognize them.”

Soarin’ held up a picture. “I know this stallion – Sgt. Roughwind. And you’re saying he tried to rape Sandalwood?”

Baird nodded. “Based on the reports of both officers, her family and at least two independent eyewitnesses, both pegasus assailants ripped off Ms. Martinez’ clothing and the one closest to her attempted to sodomize her.”

“I’m not familiar with that term,” Twilight said.

“To be less delicate, Ambassador, penetration from the rear,” Baird replied.

“He tried to mount her,” Caldwell said bluntly.

Twilight’s eyes widened in shock. Mounting? That was…. While she wasn’t exactly experienced in the ways of love, she at least knew that ponies made love face to face, to share that passion. Mounting was…dominating, antiquated, a genetic remainder of their equine heritage. She looked at Lyra and AC, and the look she got back from her friends confirmed her fears.

“Is something wrong, Ambassador?” Caldwell asked.

“He tried to….” Twilight’s mind shut down. Sandalwood….

Lyra quickly stepped in. “Twilight finds that completely abhorrent, as you can see. So do the rest of us. What I’d like to know is where did these ponies come from?”

“You tell us, Ambassador Heartstrings,” Baird said. “Your lieutenant there obviously recognizes one of them, and the look on your faces showed that you probably recognized all of them.”

“Twilight, let me make this clear, because I am required to say this. By Lt. Soarin’’s admission, at least one of these is a member of the Equestriani military. That means this likely was an operation performed by Equestriani military members against an American citizen on US soil. The Government of the United States considers actions such as that an act of war.”

The four ponies all went silent at once. War?

“I make no joke of this when I say the United States is what we call a superpower, the most powerful nation on this planet. We have the military capability to completely destroy this planet if we needed to. That means we also have the ability to do the same to yours. And before you specify that we wouldn’t know how to find the alternate reality to your world, I can honestly say that when backed into a corner, the US military will find new and improved ways to make our enemies’ lives hell.” Patel’s voice was sober and firm. “As I speak, the United States and its allies are engaged in various military actions and patrols around the world. While in the sake of friendship and geopolitical alliances we work with our allies for both diplomatic and military solutions to the world’s problems, when it comes to war more often than not the need for allies is merely a formality; we could fight two major wars by ourselves at once and still have the capabilities to run roughshod on your world.”

Twilight found her voice. “Princess Celestia would never have allowed this! The Lost Foal is an important issue to my fellow ponies and there would be no way we would ever allow any harm to come to her, much less send some sort of secret force to…do what they’re accused of doing!”

“Ambassador, we are not threatening you,” Caldwell said. “We’re merely underlining how serious this is. It is the duty of Congress to declare war against a foe, and Senator McAllister is a very influential member of Congress. The reason the Senator is paying attention to this case is because it is personal to him. His daughter Erica is the best friend of Ms. Martinez, and the Senator himself thinks of her as family. I don’t think it’s a stretch to say he would protect her as much as he would his own.”

Tears started welling in Twilight’s eyes. “Sandalwood…she’s my niece,” Twilight admitted. “I’ve been looking for her for fifteen years now. I’ve been doing everything I can to get her back to her family, back to us.”

The humans looked at the unicorn with nothing less than surprise. Of all the things they’d talked about before the meeting, they hadn’t expected that.

“Twilight, let me take this,” AC said. “As you mentioned your military strength, I think I must say something as well. Twilight Sparkle, though she would never admit it, is the fourth strongest magic user in Equestria, possibly our world. She could core a mountain as if it were an apple just by thinking about it – and there are three magic users stronger than her. But I’m not saying this because we’d want a war with humans. I’m saying it because if there was any way to know that her niece would be in trouble, Twilight would just remove that issue. She’s spent the past fifteen years quite literally ripping apart the timespace continuum to find her niece. Do you think she’d ever actually let her come to harm if she could prevent it?”

“Quite frankly, no, I don’t think you would,” Patel said to the purple unicorn. “I’ve got an eye for people, and I’d like to think I’m a good judge of character. In the short time you’ve worked with my deputies, they’ve reported that you’ve been nothing less than completely open and honest with them, and I daresay I agree. I intend to inform President Mendoza that this attack was not sanctioned by your government, and so as a result they will be considered common criminals and will be dealt with accordingly. Would that be sufficient?”

Lyra spoke; Twilight was too reeling right now to handle things correctly. “I will recommend to our Princess that this be settled in one of your courts of law. Would that work for you, Mr. Baird?”

“Considering the circumstances, the County would be willing to release them back to Equestriani custody in the name of better relations with our new allies,” he responded. “Would that be amenable to the Senator?”

“Probably not, but if it prevents another headache, I think I can convince him,” Caldwell replied.

“No. Let them sit – and pay.” Twilight’s voice was broken. “Mr. Baird, they have broken the laws of your nation, and speaking on behalf of the Crown, we do not sanction lawbreakers. While we would ask that they be allowed legal counsel and the opportunity for visitors from our delegation and any relatives that would wish to visit, I will recommend to Princess Celestia that they be tried under your court system.” There was a strain on her face, as though she was fighting instinct to go down to the jail and see if she could core them as easily as it was said that she could do to mountains.

“Sounds like a plan to me. Now, my apologies, but I have to get ready for a meeting in ten minutes with Vice President Millington. Twilight, I’d like to meet again in a few days regarding some other issues; I still have to arrange the meetings for your other staffers. See Mildred on the way out and set something up with her. Thanks for coming, folks.”

As they all left, Twilight approached Caldwell. “I’d like to see her.”

Caldwell’s eyes looked sympathetic. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ambassador. And no, I’m not shooting you down, I’m being pragmatic. And to be honest…well, I talk with the Senator a lot about personal issues. DJ’s terrified right now, and from what he got from her parents, she hasn’t come out of her room in the past few days. Erica’s staying there night and day, and the only ones she’ll see otherwise are her family, her best friends and her boyfriend. I’ve known the Senator for years, but I’ve never seen him so angry.”

“Please! I need to know she’s okay!” The look in Twilight’s eyes was desperate.

Caldwell sighed. “I’d have to ask the Senator about it, and we’d have to get permission from her parents, but I’ll see what I can do. But this might not be immediate, it might take a week or two or perhaps longer – she needs to regain her bearings before any of this happens.”

“Thank you,” Twilight said.

“Don’t mention it. To be honest, I have a daughter, about ten years old, lives with her father in Seattle – we divorced years ago and I don’t get to see Jessica as much as I’d like. But if she was missing and I had magic, I think I’d be tearing apart dimensions to get her as well. If all goes well, I’ll leave word with the folks here at State as soon as it’s a go.”

Later that day, Twilight sat in one of the conference rooms in Canterlot Castle. She longed to return to her home, to just go to bed and get some sleep; in fact, she took a short nap in her office once they got back. Or maybe she’d just have dinner out at a restaurant tonight, or just spend time with her friends – spend time, that is, without the need to focus on paperwork and politics. When had she last relaxed? Read a book that didn’t have to do with her job? Gone on a date? She looked at her reflection in the highly-polished table and the face that looked back at her looked so old, so damn old. She turned 43 last month, with no dating prospects on the horizon and leading a very lonely life – she lived alone; even Spike had left for his own life and home in the northern Canterlot mountains. It felt like an eternity since she was just the happy 22-year-old mare who was Celestia’s protégé and the librarian in a small town. Now, that town was a small city; and she’d long left that position, now the Archmagus of Equestria, responsible for the operations of every government-employed mage in the principality.

“TWILIGHT!” A voice shouted, and she jerked her head up to find AC staring at her. “Sugarcube, y’ okay?” Now that she’d returned to Equestria, she’d dropped the fake accent and reverted back to the normal twang of the Apple clan.

“No, I’m not. All I can see in my mind is that beautiful little foal I held in my forelegs just after she was born, and trying to picture her now as a young mare, being….I can’t. I…just can’t.”

“Twilight, I understand how you feel,” Soarin’ said. “Rainbow and I have been trying to have a second foal for some time now, so I can’t even imagine what Rarity’s going through.”

“Soarin’,” she said, her voice growing strained, “Find them. Find out what happened. I want to know how this got past our intelligence. We’ve known for about three weeks now where Sandalwood lives, and I promised Deputy Secretary Hardigan we would do nothing without their agreement. Somepony just made me a liar – somepony tried to rape my niece. Find them before I do.”

“Roger that, Twilight. I’ve already got Blossomforth looking into who had access to that information. There’s only a few who could, and I’m sure between me, Rainbow, Scootaloo and Spitfire, the four of us will find out who authorized this.”

“Okay. Tell Rainbow what happened, but let her know I don’t want her to tell anypony else – especially Rarity. I want Rarity to hear it from me personally; she doesn’t need to hear it from gossip.”

“I think I’d better head back to Washington and contact the law firm we hired to represent us,” Lyra said. “Regardless of what happens, I think we need to find a way to make it up to those people who have her. Besides, I think I need to move around the human world more to get a better feel about things. Want to come with me, AC?”

“Yeah, I reckon that’s a good idea,” she admitted. “Let’s rustle up your mate an’ mah husband an’ we’ll go. We c’n have dinner in a restaurant there or somethin’.”

“Well, if that’s settled, I’ll see you all in the morning,” Twilight said tiredly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go brief the Princess on what’s going on.”

As she walked down the hallways towards the Solar Throne Room, she ran into a very exhausted-looking Princess Cadance. The pink alicorn stopped to lean against the nearest wall before she collapsed, and Twilight painfully rushed to her sister-in-law’s side, ignoring her own fatigue even as Cadance’s seemed to feed into her own.

“Sorry, Twilight,” the youngest princess said, yawning before nuzzling the younger mare; the alicorn hadn’t aged a day since she reached maturity, her youth seemed to have frozen in place nearly twenty years ago. “Raising and lowering the moon last night took a lot out of me. I swear I’ve been asleep the whole day.”

“You raised the moon?” If she was dealing with that, then where was Luna?

As if expecting the response, she replied, “Luna took over the day court responsibilities for the moment, and I’m acting in the night court in her stead. She gave me the supposed easier job – the moon’s just a huge rock floating out in space, whereas the sun is this huge ball of fire that has to be held together at all times. Personally, while I agree with her on raising the moon instead, I think she took day court because she got bored – night court is practically deserted.”

“So where’s Celestia?”

“Away on royal business, as far as I know; she informed Luna, but not me. I swear they treat me like I’m still a foal at times.”

Twilight watched as Cadance unsteadily rose to her feet. “Do you want me to go get Shiny for you?”

She waved it off. “No, I’ll be fine, Twilight. Worst comes to, I’ll just sleep in my office; there’s nothing scheduled tonight so it should be quiet. You get going and talk to Luna, then get some sleep yourself, okay?”

“I will,” she promised. Quickly giving her sister-in-law a quick hug, the unicorn headed on.

A few minutes later, the unicorn walked into the Solar Throne Room. Under normal circumstances, the beautiful, dazzling ivory color of the marble was blindingly brilliant before the deep reds and other colors gave the room a regal, splendid appearance, but at the moment, Twilight didn’t notice.

Luna took one look at her sister royal and that was all she needed to do what came next. “The court is done for the day. Night court will not be occurring tonight, so the rest of you will have to find a new place go to gossip. Guards, please escort everypony out and ensure no one comes in.” Letting the nobles and others filter out of the great room, Luna sat evenly and calmly on the throne. The moment the doors were shut, the midnight alicorn leapt from the dais, worry on her face. “AC already gave me a report since she said you weren’t in any shape to do so, and what she told me was very impressive. Twilight…I’m so sorry. Neither Celestia nor I would ever want to put this on your shoulders, but you shouldered it regardless. You were so very brave, and we couldn’t be more proud of you if we tried.”

“But I thought…I thought Celestia would be disappointed in me! I failed to get her back!” Her weariness at the brink, the tears came again. “I failed Rarity. I failed our family.”

“Twilight, what you did was nothing short of incredible.” The night princess nuzzled Twilight. “Your admission about Sandalwood may have defused a contentious situation, and I don’t think you understand how very dangerous that would have been for us if you hadn’t.”

“I know human weapons are powerful than our normal ones, but what about our magic?”

“Twilight, you know what an atom is,” Luna said calmly. “Eighty years ago, the United States created a weapon, a so-called ‘atomic bomb’, that caused untold amounts of destruction. It was nothing that we could ever create – we don’t have that kind of power on-hand.”

“But the sun….” Twilight began.

“Is something that neither Celestia nor I really know how we control,” Luna informed her. “Magic is not the same as science; we often treat it as the same, but it doesn’t mean it is the same; there is a difference, just as there is between alchemy and chemistry. The Earth the humans live on is completely magically dead – your reports have said so yourself. So to do something like this, it’s science on a scale that none of our ponies are familiar with.”

The look on Twilight’s face was one of utter shock. About ten years ago, in the far northern lands of Draconia, a group of dragon mages thought to see what would happen if the atom was split – but, from what the survivors reported, became something else entirely. Though the Dominion of Dragons had squelched most of the reports, what became publicly known was that the damage was intense, killing thousands of dragons and leaving a charred wasteland dozens of miles in every direction, littering the surroundings with radiation that killed anything that wandered into the now-quarantined zone. Even now, research into that direction of magic-using was completely forbidden and the exact experiments and records of the original researchers now buried in a vault in the deepest parts of Mt. Dragonsclaw.

Every nation on Earth at that point agreed to never consider doing that ever again – and yet on the human Earth, they’d done it…and gone horrifically much farther.

“From what we know, atomic weapons have only been used twice in their history, and it was to stop a war that had been raging for years prior. Fortunately, humans apparently use those weapons only as a last resort.”

“But why would they even create them? That’s…that’s completely inequine.”

“In a sense, Twilight, it’s no different than the Elements. They’re only meant to be used when there’s no other alternative. While they’re a much better option than nuclear weapons – or any of the weapons humans have – weapons are just that, and at the most basic level, there’s no difference between the guards’ swords, the Elements or an F-35.”

A sudden thought crossed Twilight’s mind. “Luna…how do you know about all this?”

There was a soft smile on the alicorn’s face. “I can’t tell you that right now. My sister trusts you to do what you’re doing – you’re the only pony she can really trust to make these decisions, and you’ve made very wise ones.”

“I don’t feel like it, sometimes.”

“Would you rather we sent Blueblood?” Luna laughed. “But seriously, there are many ways to approach a problem, and you’re doing a wonderful job – but as I said, there are many ways to do so, and some of those other ways are being explored as well.” The alicorn said nothing more, hoping the point would come across.

Unfortunately, a certain mare was too close to collapse to have really noticed, instead focusing on a different angle. “So then you know about the incident with your guards.”

“Former guards. Celestia reassigned Roughwind’s platoon after the whole Nightmare Moon incident. He was one of the ones I turned into a Shadowbolt – there were more than just the three you all saw – and she was concerned that being around me might cause them undue stress. That was years ago; however, it seems to have caused an entirely different problem instead.”

“I’ve informed the local government that they should treat them as they would human lawbreakers.”

“That’s fine by me. I don’t think Celestia would argue either.”

Twilight nodded, and for a second it wasn’t clear if she was agreeing with her friend, or falling asleep on her feet. Finally, she yawned, “Luna, unless you need me, I’m just going to go home. I’m wiped.”

“I’ll teleport you myself. Have a pleasant evening.” Luna’s horn flashed with indigo energy, and the unicorn suddenly disappeared. A second later, there was a second flash, and the alicorn appeared in her room. Without due, she walked to the nearest mirror and used her magic once more. A second later, a young human woman with long strawberry-blonde hair appeared in the mirror. She wore a blouse and jeans, and the blouse had a stylized sun pattern on it.

“Luna, I told you not to contact me!” the human said, trying to hold up an indignant look while trying not to laugh. “Otherwise I end up looking like a weirdo – I’m talking to a storefront window right now!”

“Oh, so sorry, Celestia – or whatever you’re calling yourself while you’re there.”

“Tia Einhorn,” Celestia replied. “Tia’s apparently a common enough name for female humans, and Einhorn means ‘unicorn’ in one of the languages here. In any case, I’m in Las Pegasas – or rather, the human equivalent, Los Angeles. I’m going to spend the next few weeks running around the US.”

“Why? What purpose would that serve?” When she left, Celestia had not said why, or anything of the sort. She simply said she was leaving, and would not return for three weeks. Luna trusted her sister, but still, she wanted to know why.

“Would it help if I said that I need to make sure Star Swirl’s old amniomorphic spell still works?”

“Try again.”

“Or maybe the ruling princess of a land whose come across a world she’s never seen before with a species her subjects have feared since the dawn of mythology needs to understand said world more to be able to defuse future issues? We wouldn’t have known about the nuclear weapons if I hadn’t come here.”

“That works. But when you get back, talk to Twilight. She could use some advice from someone more suited to it than I.”

“Please take care of her for me. She’s very capable, but I worry.”

“Yes, I’ll take care of your precious little daughter,” Luna grinned impishly.

“Right. Just for that, I’m not bringing you back a souvenir from Olvera Street.”

“‘Olvera’ what?” the night unicorn asked, but her sister had already ended the communication spell, and Luna gazed at her reflection once more. Celestia, I hope you know what you’re doing, she thought. Sparing no more concerns on it, she departed her room; she’d have to lower the sun and make sure Cadance was raising the moon correctly; she’d done an admirable job so far, but during moonset she brought the satellite 30,000 miles too close and Luna had to put it back in place before a few coastal cities become flooded. So much to do, so much to do….

Time for sleep. Twilight decided to skip dinner, skip reading a book, even skip Vinyl’s and Octavia’s suggestion that they go out dancing tonight. She just wanted the bed. Maybe this is why you’re single, Twilight, she chided herself, hearing it in Spike’s voice, no less. You work yourself to death, and you’re imposing the same solitude on yourself that Celestia does.

Maybe I do, she thought to herself. Celestia would have never wanted that for her protégé, but it seemed as how it worked out; of the three alicorns, only Cadance had taken the steps to find love; if the other two did, it was something well before Luna’s millennial exile. And now Twilight had followed in her mentor and maternal figure’s shoes. Her mother, Twilight Velvet, always worried about her namesake daughter’s future dating prospects, but it was an ugly truth: most of the younger Twilight’s habits and personality traits were influenced by the alicorn than either Twilight Velvet or her husband Night Light.

But there was one bit of compensation for her spinsterhood: she didn’t have to worry about a daughter ruined in the same way Rarity’s was. And a split-second later, Twilight mentally slapped herself for the nasty comment: she and the other girls were just as important to the lives of Rarity’s younger children Minty and Elusive as they would have been to Sandalwood, as they would be to any foals the others had. And with a little luck and a lot of protecting, Minty, Elusive and those future foals would never know the pain that Sandalwood probably felt now.

Rarity…. I can’t tell her. How can I tell her about this? It would be another stab wound in an already hurting heart. Fifteen years of wrong directions, dead ends, and false leads, the worst of all being that one ten years ago where they found the bones of a young filly on a world where the dominant species were these human-like things with subpar intelligence and still in the Stone Age. In that case, the bones turned out to be hundreds of years old, and the DNA didn’t match either Rarity or Silversteel – Twilight ran the test spells a dozen times, and both Luna and Celestia had done so as well, just for confirmation – but the damage had been done and Rarity had been utterly heartbroken by the end of that poor filly. They’d buried the remains underneath the apple tree and next to Tom, the boulder “appointed” as the guardian for the little filly, which Rarity had lovingly and heartwrenchingly named Toola-Roola after a nonsensical folk song she used to sing to her children.

After that episode, Rarity wasn’t quite the same again. She grew a lot more vitriolic every time Twilight and Pinkie discovered a new world, only for the trail to grow cold. The scientific and social benefits that came out of these discoveries became apparent – it seemed that out of the dozens of different dimensions the pair had found, only theirs was filled with intelligent life, but they’d also discovered that lightning bolts from magic storms were transporting their victims to various other realities – they’d recovered twelve sets of skeletons over the years, one of which was actually identified: Star Song, a pegasus guard from centuries ago; Celestia herself sadly recognized the remains of her former guardsmare. But to that, it mattered little to Rarity: her first child was nowhere to be found, not even as a tattered bundle of bones, as they had with Toola-Roola.

Worse still: their circle of friends was fraying over the years: they were still family, they’d always be, but a few years ago, after both Celestia and Luna decided they were too far removed from their people, they appointed the six to greater statuses, as full-fledged ministers of government. It unfortunately meant that they had to leave their previous occupations behind, and in Twilight’s case, due to Spike’s growth spurt, their old home in Ponyville – a hand-picked successor was now the town librarian. But now, they had become different mares than they’d been in their youths: Twilight, now the Archmagus; Fluttershy, now the Minister of Social Services and Health; Rarity, heading the Ministry of the Arts and Sciences; Applejack took the reins of the Ministry of Agriculture and Environment; only Rainbow Dash, already a senior military member and Pinkie, who continued to work on the search for Sandalwood were spared. Even the former Cutie Mark Crusaders weren’t spared: Scootaloo joined Rainbow in the military, Sweetie Belle assisted Twilight in the Mage Guild, and Apple Bloom worked for Wildfire over at the Ministry of Transportation and Commerce.

The following years were nothing but more pain: Twilight’s parents retired from their duties, and then shortly after, Night Light passed away. Rarity’s mother and father passed away six months later, and shortly after was Granny Smith, who almost seemed as if she’d never pass. Sadly, this came at the same time as Cadance, who had hoped against hope to defy her heritage had found that she had not; she’d become immortal and her fate was to join the alicorns in eventual solitude. But it wasn’t all bad: during this time, Rarity and Silversteel had their third child, a unicorn colt named they named Elusive after he was found to be the spitting image of his mother, so much so he was almost like a male version of her.

And now they had finally found Sandalwood – but there were new complications. She had a family. She was raised as a human; how that was even possible, no one knew. And most bizarrely of all, was that this world was populated by humans, and they were not the monsters the legends made them out to be, which meant that Sandalwood was safe. Well, today’s news had proven that to be a lie, and worse, it had been done at the hooves of ponies themselves – not humans.

No, I can’t tell Rarity, at least not from me. I’ll have to find someone who can break the news to her gently, maybe Fluttershy or Cadance. I’ll do it first thing in the morning. In the back of her mind, part of her warned that if she didn’t do it now, she’d forget about it, or she might just sit on the information inadvertently or worst of all, stew on it until it backfired on her. But, she reminded herself, she was doing this to spare Rarity and her family extra grief, and after that disastrous incident, how much worse could things get?

Chemistry, Part One

It was an easy evening in Aberdeen, Scotland. The sky was dark, the boys were out drinking on the town and the nightlife was just as it should be: boozy and rowdy. All except for one girl.

In a pub, Moira MacLeish bemoaned the pictures on the telly. Pony girls, once again. No, not that kinky shit where lads and lasses dressed up in latex and banjo’d the bab out of each other. No, it was the aliens from another dimension, the Equestrianis. Stealin’ a right good resource from hardworking women such as herself, leaving them with nothing but a ballsed-up life and battery operated boyfriends.

First it was that American pony girl raised like a human, gained herself a husband, a catchy one, too. Nothing wrong with that: she lived her all her life with people, so that was to be expected and one could say she really didn’t count. Then it was the unicorn gal that was an ambassador to the States – she caffed herself a nice lawyer. Again, nothing wrong with that; she was supposedly their expert on humans, so it’d stand that she’d lean in that direction. But it could be said it started with that goofy-eyed pegasus scientist and the Aussie rock star. Then another, this time between an earth pony (what the bleedin’ hell was an “earth pony” – shouldn’t that’ve been just regular pony?) girl and a Brazilian footy player. Then another unicorn girl and a Canadian hockey player. And again. And again. And bloody flippin’ again. Hell, there was even a rumor that one of the alicorn princesses themselves got a little action, shaggin’ up with a bloke.

And now this, the nightmare, the horror of any sanity lovin’ Britoness anywhere in the flippin’ world.

The news presenter announced the tale, barneying up for life any single woman who fancied men: “And now in entertainment news, Welsh actor Chet Llewellyn announced his engagement to his longtime girlfriend, Equestriani pop star Midnight Moondust.” The screen switched to a scene of the happy couple waving to the cameras in some city – probably New York, since it looked like typical Yank crap. Another shot, this time of a ruggedly handsome actor in his late twenties, with a stylishly dressed pegasus mare holding onto his arm as though it was a sacred object. The midnight blue pony looked up to her fiancé and the pair kissed, quite romantically, in front of the cameras. “Llewellyn, who met the pegasus pop star on the set of the fantasy film Arddun Lleuad, spoke briefly about their affiance.”

Llewellyn just looked down at his soon-to-be bride, and then turned to the cameras with a face that could melt a dozen hearts. “When Midnight and I met on the set of Arddun, the sparks we had on-set translated into real life, and now three years later, I’m glad to say we’re planning for a life together.”

The news presenter briefly appeared on-screen with more images of the couple mugging for the cameras. “Moondust, who is currently on tour in the States to promote her new album At the Gala, had this to say for our reporters.”

The pegasus mare looked dashing and Moira felt her skin crawl as several of the lads in the bar all made the typical comments:

“Oh, Oi’d roide me that beauty, Oi would!”
“Eh, yer a bleedin’ tosser, Nik. That filly needs a real man, not that Llewellyn fag. An’ I’m just the man.”
“Ah, outcher arse, Roger. That gal’s just too high-class for you. Now, for me, on th’ other hand….”

Moira ignored that, but couldn’t ignore what the pegasus was saying.

“Oh, I just love Chet with all my heart! He’s a darling of a dear, and every day he makes me feel like I’m a princess – like I’m Princess Cadance herself!”

The screen returned to the droll news presenter as he sealed the fate of every single woman in Britain with, “And the pair plan to marry right after the filming of the sequel to Arddun, Chwe Goleadau, sometime mid-next year. And now, on to sports.”

Moira grunted and drained her glass, until the surviving suds held to the bottom of the glass. “Miguel, ‘nother pint. And change that crap on the telly; don’t need to hear how the world’s tits over arse right now.”

“Sounds like someone’s just a little bit jealous,” Miguel said in that Spaniard’s voice of his. He’d come to study theology at King’s, but instead stayed for the heart of a pretty lady and now worked his time as a theology professor for the University and tended bar just for fun since his father-in-law insisted his daughter marry a man “with a useful talent.”

“Bugger that – Miguel. Horsey girls, they ain’t got these,” she said, shaking her torso and jiggling her breasts as a result. “Yet all I hear on the telly is pony girls, pony girls, pony girls.”

“You’ll find your man,” Miguel said. “Back when I was just a young, strapping lad in Cadiz, I slept with a number of the American sailor girls stationed over in Rota, who never seemed to think I was nothing more than 16,” he said with an impish grin. “But I never found a girl I could really call my own. Well, finally when my madre insisted I do something with my life, I thought I’d come here, if for no other reason than to see if redheads were really red all the way.”

“You scamp,” she said, laughing.

“Quite. But I made the mistake of being late one day for class, and ran into the most beautiful redhead I’d ever had the chance to meet. ¡Anda, but she was beautiful! I lost my heart that moment and I’ve been with my Colleen ever since.” He placed the mug in front of Moira, flashing a knowing grin. “This, I tell you. Someday, a man is going to look at you and say, ‘¿Mira esa mujer – how could I ever live without that piece of beauty?’”

“You’re a right scoundrel, you are, know that?”

“I was. No longer. Now I hear it is my brother, little Jose, who’s messing with the Norteamericanos. Problem is, with my luck, he’ll marry one of them and then I’ll have to hear all that Yankee crap,” he chuckled.

“Excuse me,” a new voice said. “Are you still open?”

“Of course, my friend,” Miguel said, as he wiped off the bar, before turning to face the voice. “Your accent. American or Canadia—” A pause. “Well, Equestriani it is, then.”

Moira turned to look at the person walking in through the door. But it wasn’t a person, per se. A pony stallion, a unicorn came in. He had a beige coat and a slightly curly yellow-and-brown mane that was nicely cut as any man’s hair; his tail matched the mane. He wore a pair of glasses on his muzzle one that just seemed to accent his face. He wore a rugby shirt and jeans, and a pair of boots. Like all ponies who came to human-Earth, he walked upright and guessing by the difficulty and slow movement of his gait, he’d just recently started, which means he hadn’t left his home dimension all that long ago.

“What’ll be your pleasure?”

“You guys have cider?”

“I’ve got Strongbow on tap and Scrumpy Jack’s in the bottle. I’m guessing you’ll want the tap, ‘cause of your hoof?”

The stallion shook his head. “Nope, I can hold a bottle; my hooves aren’t as inflexible and hard as a horse’s. But nothing beats tap.”

“A man with a wise decision. Let me get that for you. You new here?”

“Yeah,” the stallion said, plopping onto the stool. “Two days ago, still getting settled in. Studying human medicine here at the University.”

“Human medicine? Are you a doctor?”

He nodded. “Dr. Silver Sutures, at your service. I’m already a physician back home, but with the increasing numbers of humans coming to Equestria, sooner or later someone’s going to need a doctor, so the Crown decided to send a bunch of us newly-minted doctors for another round of medical school headaches and learn human medicine, so we can take all comers if need be.”

“Impressive. Here you go, one Strongbow – on the House, Doctor.”

“Just call me Silver,” the unicorn said, offering a hoof.

“Miguel Contreras Vargas,” he said, taking it and shaking, “but Miguel is just fine. I’m a transplant as well, so I’m sure you’ll enjoy it here.”

“Looks nice enough,” Silver commented. “Think I’ll like it here.” He lifted the mug to his lips and took a taste. “Nice. Bit on the weak side – our cider’s just a bit stronger – but very nice indeed.”

“Looks like the owner might need to import some,” Miguel laughed. “Well, I’ve got to get back to the other patrons. Enjoy your time here!”

Moira looked at the pony sitting next to her and thought metaphorically – and literally – fuck it. “Hey,” she said, provocatively to the unicorn, “See anything you like?”

“No, not really,” he said absently. Moira was about to make a nasty retort when she realized he hadn’t even looked at her at all. “The colors here are just so much drabber than at home. Maybe it’s the local weather, I guess, or maybe things are just, brighter in my world due to all the magic.”

“Magic?” Moira exclaimed. “That real?” In response, Silver’s horn flickered with a shade of white energy, and Moira’s beer mug lifted off the counter and floated towards her, until she took it in her hand. “Chuffin’ ‘ell! That’s just fuckin’ amazing!”

“No big deal,” Silver said. “Just everyday normal magic. If anything, everything you humans have accomplished without magic? Now that is nothing less than amazing. For example, you have these things called lasers, thin beams of light with incredible power that usually only somepony like Princesss Celestia could create. And you use them to cure cataracts, something that we ponies have never been able to figure out how to do. You’ve outright destroyed at least fifteen diseases, some of which kill my own kind: smallpox, rinderpest, ebola, Marburg, consumption, AIDS. And you’ve done it all without magic.”

“You sound as though you were looking forward to this assignment.”

“Oh, absolutely! The chance to be able to save lives with these incredible machines, when all we could do in the past is just make them comfortable before they die? To be able to pull someone from the brink of death’s grip with human medicines as the weapon against decay and despair? Who wouldn’t be?”

“Well, more’s the same to you, I guess,” she said.

“Oh, I just realized I’ve been incredibly rude, sorry – name’s Silver. And you?”

“Moira. Moira MacLeish. Just a local school teacher, making sure her little delinquents are getting their Hires before they got tossed out on their ears,” she commented. “Bunch o’ hooligans I’ve got for students. Ah, but we all can’t teach at Albyn’s.”

“No kidding. My oldest sister Cheerilee’s a teacher in a town southwest of Canterlot. She loves it there, but she tells me she sometimes wishes her students were as well behaved as the ones cross-town at the private school.”

“Sounds like the problem of every schoolmarm since the dawn of the blackboard,” Moira said in sympathy. “So, you’re a doctor, right? I’ve got an odd one for you. Now, I realize you’re not an agony aunt or the like, but still, it’s something you could give me the clue up.”

“Um, sure, I guess,” Silver stated just before he took another drink from his mug, emptying it. Miguel noted and went off to grab him another one. “Bear in mind, since I have no human medical training, I can’t advise you on anything in that regard, sorry.”

“Actually, ‘ts got more to do with your kind than ours.” She paused for a second, taking another draw from her mug before setting the empty mug on the counter; Miguel came back with another one of each for both of them. “What’s with all the ponygirls chorin’ our men?”

“‘Chorin’?’”

“Swiping. Truffin’. You know, stealing.”

“Oh.” There went a few uncomfortable second as Silver laughed; it was enough to get the attention of the whole bar. “You know,” he began, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone want a reason for that before – usually most just chalk it up due to love, and that’s always what it boils down to in the end. But, it’s not entirely due to Hooves and Hearts.”

“Okay, then what is it?” At once, the bar seemed to move in closer, as if a great secret was being told. It was enough that Miguel caught the hint and muted the telly so everyone could hear Silver.

“You know what a pheromone is, right?” When a few of them shook their heads in the negative, Silver explained. “It’s a set of chemicals that all animals produce for a number of reasons. Even sapient animals, such as humans or ponies, exude them.”

“Ey! I’m not an animal, y’ damn chutney ferret!”
“What’d y’ think ya were, Nik – a bleedin’ vegetable?”

Silver let the small conversation die down before he continued. “We’ve known for quite some time now that at the sapient level, pheromones for the most part stop working. Sure, there’s some minor interaction between ponies and our fellow sapients on Alter-Earth, and here on your Earth, the only major pheromone that really works is what you typically call body odor.”

“So, when someone’s chuffed, he’s givin’ out these fermones?”

“Pheromones,” Silver kindly corrected. “Well, at first, equinologists and anthropologists alike thought that it was due to the fact that there’s nearly two mares for every stallion on my world and an almost exact parity of men to women on this one – you actually have to go out to the hundreds for the precise comparison in which case there’s 101 women for every 100 men; about thirty or so years ago it was the exact opposite, but it doesn’t change much. Simply put, the women of our world thought they stood a better chance getting human mates than pony ones, and high-profile weddings like that of the Lost Foal or one of our ambassadors only bolstered things.

“But it wasn’t until a biologist in Toronto, dating a visiting mare unicorn scientist, noticed something strange that someone started to put two and two together. And so they did some studies with some known man-mare couples and found out,” he said with a smile, “I’m sorry, ladies, but mares have got a secret weapon when it comes to winning mens’ hearts.”

“They do?” a woman standing at the back of the crowd called out.

Silver nodded. “Yup. When aroused, women secrete acetic acid, a copulin which in lower-level primates is a sexual attractor. Unfortunately, in in higher primates, such as yourselves, the human mind – specifically the male human mind – has evolved to tune it out otherwise you would only have sex during certain times of the year, which we all know is no fun whatsoever.” He got a round of laughter for that comment.

“But when mares are aroused, they secrete a pheromone known as phenethylamine, or PEA for short. Like our human counterparts and acetic acid, stallions aren’t affected by PEA. However, it has a hugely devastating effect on men, especially since men have been exposed to this pheromone their entire life.”

“They have?”

“Absolutely: PEA is a major chemical in chocolate.” The bar fell unnaturally quiet as both the intelligent and not-so digested this sudden revelation. “Who doesn’t feel good about eating chocolate? Ponies do just as much as humans. But humans process it in different ways than we do, and enough PEA causes euphoria in humans. And it’s from a cute mare signaling to a guy she’d like to get to know him better? Well, he sure better not be a gelding.”

“So what about anything a woman does for a stallion?” Moira asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Gonna have to do it the old fashioned way: love,” he said. “Acetic acid actually has been found to turn off stallions. Actually makes us somewhat nauseous. I’m sure it can be overcome should a woman and a stallion really care for each other, but at the base level, if she really likes him, she’s got an obstacle to overcome.”

“Bollocks,” Moira grunted.

Over the next few months, Silver had become a regular at the bar. He and Miguel palled around and Silver, just for fun had even run the bar one night when Miguel wanted to take his wife out for dinner and a movie. Oftentimes, he usually sat in a corner of the bar, table piled high with books and a half-consumed mug of Strongbow or Guinness sitting there.

Eventually, Moira came to join him during those times. It gave her someone to talk to and not spend the time drinking and after two attempted dates had gone sour, she was pretty much writing off dating for the foreseeable future, said future being forever. Besides, Silver was a nice enough chap, and though she wasn’t attracted to him at all, he did make for a good friend.

So it was one day she asked him, “Silver, did you hear a single thing I said or you just being a cuntybaws today?”

He looked up blearily from his books. “Oh, hi, Moira. Didn’t even notice you, sorry.”

“Mate, you look cuffy. You okay?”

“Yeah, just been here all day reading the books.” He held up a copy of Grey’s Anatomy. “And I thought memorizing all the general practice healing spells for pony medicine was hell. Humans have so much more voluminous stuff out there. For crying out loud, just the books alone on equiniatric medicine – this Earth’s equivalent of GP healing spells – is so damn dense because it’s all done with science and machines and stuff. I mean, ensorcelled bandages can heal a pegasus’ broken wing bones in a matter of days, but human science can create outright replacement bones if they’re too splintered to heal.”

“Yer kiddin’.”

He put his head down in his forehooves, just rubbing them through his mane. “There was a pony from Trottingham, a filly named Humble Daisy, who had a degenerative bone disease that kept breaking bones every time she tried to learn how to fly. Apparently some American charity, the Kirkland Foundation, heard about her plight and sent her to Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles, where they took some of her bone marrow and created an entire set of replacement bones; they only needed to replace a few of the worst ones, but the rest were made just in case – a whole skeleton, just in case! Then after they replaced those bones in an operation, they used targeted gene therapy to completely heal her, just so it wouldn’t relapse.”

“Sounds good,” Moira, not understanding the whole thing, said.

“Sounds good? This was a bucking miracle! This was a filly who not only couldn’t fly at an age where she should have, but the disease was going to kill her eventually. And now, three years after the treatment? Not only will she live to be a grandmother, but she says she wants to be a fighter pilot when she grows up, maybe even try to make the Wonderbolts! On our world, nopony save for the princesses and maybe the archmagus has that kind of healing ability, and yet for humans? Just another day at the office.” He leaned back in his chair, clearly impressed. “I am surrounded by miracle workers every day, and yet to them, it’s just an everyday thing.”

“That why you’re killin’ yourself every day to learn this?”

He nodded mutely. “I owe it to my people to be the best damn doctor I can be, just as you owe it to your people to be the best teacher you can. Cheerilee has a student in her class whose mother has swamp fever. Here on Earth, it’s a wasting disease for equinoids. Back home? It’s a death sentence compounded with social stigma since it’s considered a sexually transmitted disease, like humans once had with AIDS. That colt’s mother could have caught it via a blood transfusion or something innocuous, and meanwhile the foal’s probably being told his mom’s a tail-lifter.”

“Tail lifter?”

“Promiscuous.”

“A slut?” Moira offered.

“Didn’t know humans had a term for it. Yeah, that’d be it. In any case, there’s a vaccine being developed by the USDA and it’s supposed to lessen the symptoms. But if we used it as part of a drug cocktail, combined with an exercise regimen and diet? That mare could potentially live a normal life, maybe see her son get married and nuzzle her grandfoals. That’s the reason I do this.”

“You’re flippin’ nuts, you wanker,” she said with a smile. “Don’t ever change.”

Two in the morning, someone banging on the door of his flat. Silver wished they’d just go the hell away, but the banging became more frantic. His cat hissed, then tried to crawl underneath his pillow.

“Yeah, okay, okay, I’m awake, Algernon,” he muttered. Throwing on some sweatpants and a t-shirt, since he slept sans clothing like most other ponies, he called out, “I’m coming, I’m coming!” He got to the door and opened it. “Look, there’d better be a damn good reason why yo—”

A blur dived into his forehooves. It was Moira. She was shaking, bruised and battered, shivering like a child. “Silver, help me….” she pled into his chest.

He started rubbing her hair; he’d never seen her like this before and she looked absolutely terrified. “I’m here,” the stallion said. “You’re safe. Whatever it is, you’re safe. C’mon, let’s sit you down on the couch and I’ll get you a cuppa. Coffee or tea?”

Instead, she yanked on one of his forelegs, refusing to let him go; she didn’t want to be alone, and the look in her eyes, now that he could see – something was really wrong. “Moira? What’s wrong?”

She started crying, burying her face in her hands. “Silver, you’re the only one I can turn to, someone who won’t think I….”

He sat down next to her. “Talk to me. What happened?”

She looked at him, and in that moment, he knew she’d just been through hell before she even uttered the words. “I’ve been raped.”

“And so, she can stay with you…uh, Mister, uh?” the constable asked him in the waiting room of the hospital.

“Silver Suture. Dr. Silver Suture, I work here at this hospital. Moira’s a friend of mine – I’ll watch her.”

“Sawbones, eh? That’ll come in handy for her,” the constable commented. “Look, I don’t know what it’s like in your world, but she’s been through hell right now. We’ve got her with another doctor right now, doin’ a rape kit. She needs someone she can trust and she came to you, because she considers you a close friend. Watch her, Doctor. Watch her or else she’ll go Dagenham. I’ve seen it happen.”

“I won’t let anything happen to her,” he said as Miguel and a few of the others rushed into the emergency waiting area.

“Miguel, how much do you know and what the heck did you bring the party for?” Silver asked, crossing his forelegs impatiently.

“You’d be surprised how much of a small town this big city is,” Miguel said. “Will she be alright?”

“Heh, Ol’ Silver’s got it. He’ll take good care of her like a woman should get, eh, y’ ol’ stally boy?”

“Nik, shut the buck up before I put your head through the wall,” Silver seethed. “She’s been violated and you’re making jokes like that?”

“Nik’s an arse,” Miguel said, staring at the barfly. “You should know that by now.”

Nik was about to apologize, when one of Silver’s colleagues and a female constable brought a very distraught Moira out. The first thing she did was to rush over to Silver and cry into his chest, while he held her close. “C’mon, let’s go home,” he said to her gently, while Miguel went to go get his car in order to drive them back to Silver’s flat.

Silver leaned back on his couch, just drained. Now that he had the whole story, he was practically bucking himself: he, indirectly and inadvertently had been responsible for Moira being raped. Two weeks ago, he’d introduced her to a fellow student in his medical class; a smart guy from down south in Cardiff named David Rhys. David was smart, all right: mind of a sociopath. He’d just told the police that he’d raped her not out of any of the typically disgusting reasons why any man would force himself on a woman, but as a clinical study so he could learn how to be ‘more empathizing’ with sexual abuse victims.

Moira was probably never going to forgive him for this. It was just a fortnight ago when he and David went to the pub for a drink and watch Aberdeen FC lose yet another game, and then Moira came by. David and Moira hit it off spectacularly, and he left them be to trade phone numbers and maybe set plans for a date. The first date went okay, as did the second, she told the cops. It was the third one when he took off the mask and revealed his true persona to her. And she’d suffered for it. And it was his fault.

She came out of his bedroom, where she’d been sleeping the past few days while he slept on the couch. Wordlessly she did what she’d been doing for the past few days: catatonically walk over from the bed to where he was, then curl up with him in a way that nearly made Algernon envious, just lying there silent unless she had to use the restroom or get food. The days were just pure routine for her: bed, lay down next to Silver, bathroom, lay next to Silver, food, lay next to Silver, bathroom, lay next to Silver, back to bed, wash, rinse, repeat. He knew she needed him, so he never said anything, just letting it continue. And so it could, for at least a few weeks: the school had given her a few weeks off to recover, and so did his – he’d even gotten a letter of commendation from Evening Sky, the Equestriani ambassador to the UK, for his help with Moira.

It was just another one of these endless days for the two when she finally said something. “Are you mad at me?”

“Mad at you? I thought you’d be mad at me – I’m the one who introduced you two.”

“Why would I be mad at you? Who else has been here for me?”

“It’s my flat, of course I’m going to be here,” he joked. “But Miguel and the rest are worried about you.”

“Eh, they’ll manage,” she said, waving them off. “I’m just…I don’t want you to think of me as a tail-lifter.”

“You don’t have a tail,” he said, gently caressing her hair, in a supportive fashion. “And even if you did, I would never think of you that way. We’re friends, right?”

“Yeah. Mates,” she said, snuggling to make herself comfortable in his lap.

“You do know ‘mate’ has two different meanings, right?”

Her voice was soft. “I know.”

“Uh….”

She laughed, and it was the best sound the stallion had heard in days. “You take crap too seriously, Silver! Don’t have a dicky fit, ‘kay?” Finally, finding a comfortable spot, she just closed her eyes and went to sleep, completely at peace.

Silver leaned back. He was glad to see that she was starting to finally recover. What happened to her shouldn’t have, and she didn’t hold it against him. He could breathe easier now…at least until his legs started to cramp from the weird way she was sleeping in his lap.

“You getting up or what?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, as he got off of the couch, to hear the sounds of her making breakfast – a proper English breakfast – he reminded himself. Things had certainly changed in the past half-year. David had confessed to the crime; quite excitedly, in fact, as he insisted it had helped him empathize with the sexually abused, and now that he was going to jail, with the psychologically scarred. Moira had cheered when the judge sentenced David to at least ten years in prison.

She’d also moved in with Silver. It was a strange arrangement; the first couple of nights after finally returning to her apartment scared the crap out of her, she’d said, and so she moved out and shacked right up with them. Everyone at first had suspected something was going on, but he reminded them as a medical student and a standing doctor already, he had little time for a relationship and that if she needed more time to recover, he was hardly going to refuse her. So, she moved into his bedroom and he’d remained on the very uncomfortable couch. Algernon, however, adjusted to his new bedmate and had since refused to sleep in the same location as his owner.

Moira did, however, help him out in a number of ways. Since he was too busy to eat breakfast on a regular basis, his dietary regimen was hell; breakfast pre-Moira was usually a coffee and scone, maybe on a rare occasion a veggie-and-cheese butty. Having her at the home, breakfast before was now less of an ordeal though he had to get used to eating meat. In fact, she was handling a lot of the domestic duties – small wonder their friends thought something was up, he had to admit.

“So what’s the plan for today,” she said, as he moved to the table and levitated cream and sugar into his coffee.

“Last day of regular classes. I’ll spend the rest of the week on outpatient support, and then at the end of the week, someone will pronounce me an MD and then I’ll have yet another series of letters after my name,” he said with a grin. “Then after that, I have to prepare for my move back to Canterlot an—”

There was a sudden crash of cheap stoneware against cheap stoneware. “You’re…you’re leaving me?” she said in a small voice. Silver looked up and the look in her eyes was frantic.

“I have to go back to Canterlot, Moira. That’s part of my job and where I belong.”

“But you’re…you’re the first….I don’t want to lose you….”

“You’re making it sound as though we’ll never be in touch. I’ll come visit you and you can come see me anytime in Canterlot. I can get you a portal pass for the consulate in Glasgow, since I’m technically a government employee.”

“I don’t want a government pass, Silver,” she said, leaning over the table. “I want you.” And with that, she leaned forward and kissed him, whispering, “I love you.”

Silver’s eyes went wide with shock as he was being kissed. How could he not have seen this? How did Miguel and the rest of them see this and he didn’t? Was he blind? Was he stupid? Letting her stay the two weeks after what happened to her was a necessity. But this…this…there was a human term for it: “Stockholm syndrome by proxy.” She was his close friend, but he’d never….

Fortunately, she misunderstood when he didn’t kiss her back and she said, “I know. I was afraid to tell you as well. I didn’t want you to think I was rebounding off you after what happened to me.” She looked at him, and the love in her eyes was as clear as day. “Funny, for a moment there you looked like you had the dreaded lurgy.”

“Heh, maybe I do,” he said, awkwardly, running a hoof through his mane in an attempt to look less petrified. He quickly inhaled the food and raced to the bathroom. “I’ve got a long day today, so I’m not sure when I’ll be back,” he lied.

“Okay. When you get back, then we’ll talk about the future?”

“I…uh…sure.” He barely had enough time to throw himself into the shower then throw some clothing on before he raced out the door. “See you later!” he shouted, running as fast as he could to prevent being kissed on the cheek and having to explain further panic.

As for Moira, it was time for her to get ready for school herself. This year’s class seemed actually willing to behave themselves, and now, finally, she had a boyfriend (stallionfriend?) she could rely on after so long.

That was, until the sudden screech of a car, and what sounded like an impact, followed shortly by a scream. That caught Moira’s attention and she went to the window to look out. She heard another scream.

A second went by before she realized it was her own.

Welcome Home, Part One

The rain beat down with purpose on the car’s windshield. Driven by their command, the wipers occasionally arced up to flick the rain off the expanse of glass, sending the water off onto a new journey. Yet even still, that didn’t help much as new drops came to replace the old, an endless zerg rush of one blip of precipitation after the other. Restless, disquieting.

Just like Lyra’s mood.

“You know, Lyra,” a voice said from the back of the car, “in all our years working together, I have never known you to be pensive.”

A more familiar voice in the passenger seat joked, “It’s because she’s missing the Euro. She was rooting for Ukraine this year, but in this part of the country? Nobody cares about soccer.”

She looked at the second voice with mock irritation. “You want to get out and walk, Paul?”

“Out here where you hear nothing but banjos?” he asked, looking over paperwork for this particular visit, “Uh, no thanks. If I recall correctly, I have a distant cousin that lives thirty miles southwest of where we’re going, little town by the name of West Plains. But I don’t know her really well, and we did promise Harper we’d come visit him afterwards, so…well,” Paul Phillips looked at his wife, shrugging. “I think I can live without ending up on a milk carton somewhere.”

The unicorn ignored her husband’s odd comment; they were all feeling a little cooped up after the two-hour drive south from Saint Louis. She looked at the person in the back seat, via the rear-view mirror, smiling. “Thanks again for coming, Lorne. I know you were planning for your retirement, so getting dragged out here for this last-minute shindig’s much appreciated.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Dr. Lorne Faust wiggled his gray bushy eyebrows, smiling. “To be honest? I’ll miss being the Assistant Secretary for the Bureau of Alter-Earth Affairs. I haven’t even retired yet and I find that retirement is going to be a bore.”

“I’ll miss having you there. I mean, Charles seems like a nice guy, but it’s going to take me getting used to seeing Mr. Muenchinger on the door instead of Dr. Faust. Besides, he’s always about football, football, football. That gets old after a while.”

“Says the mare who shouts ‘GOOOOOOOOAAAAAAALLLLLLLL!’ when she punts a wadded piece of paper into the trash can,” Paul grinned. “I’m just waiting for the point when you tell our son that rooting for any team other than DC United is tantamount to being disowned.”

She gave him a lidded look. “Yup, you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

The rain began to let up, and just in time, as the voice on Lyra’s phone told them they were approaching the destination. “Okay, here’s the point where we turn off Missouri Route 21, but…isn’t there supposed to be a sign marking the town?”

“I’m sure that’s it over there,” Paul said, pointing to the collection of buildings just right of the overpass. “Let’s just get off here and compare notes real quick.”

“Yeah, you’d think Apple would’ve updated their GPS maps to point out this. How old are these maps, anyway?”

“I’m not sure, but I know for small, out of the way towns, Google Maps only updates them once every five yea….” His voice suddenly trailed off. “Um, hon, I think we’re here.”

“You sure? I didn’t see a….” There was a pregnant pause on Lyra’s lips. “Okay, I did not expect that.”

From his seat in the back, now Lorne saw the sign. “I would have to agree. It seems things have changed quite a bit since those days.”

“Well,” Lyra said as steered down the offramp to head towards the city, “First thing, let’s get some food. I don’t know about you two, but I know I could use some lunch. Besides, a town this small, mayor can’t be full-time, so someone local might know where he is.” The other two agreed, and with that, the rented car pulled off Missouri Highway 21, connecting to Missouri Highway 106 as it rolled into town. As they did, they passed a large sign to the right of the off-ramp, a sizable carved wood billboard, lovingly done with care that read:

WELCOME TO BEAUTIFUL
PONYVILLE, MISSOURI
EST. CA. 1837
POPULATION APPROX. 2600

Shortly after entering the town, they pulled into a parking space adjacent to the Ellington Diner, a faded building with a streamline modern design that reflected a bygone era of America from the previous century. In fact, Lyra noticed as she looked down the main street, most of the buildings present were of the brick facades of the 1940s and 50s, and were it not for modern cars and LED and volumetric signage, she almost swore that she’d stepped into the past of her husband’s species.

“Something up, hon?” Paul asked.

“Just…something about the town. Seems so small and quaint,” she responded, brushing locks of her mane that the breeze blew into her eyes. “Doesn’t seem very much like a Ponyville…well, the one I knew at least. Of course, that one’s now a small city, so who am I to judge?”

“You see small towns like this all over this part of the country, and they never seem to change,” Paul replied. “My parents, sister and I used to take road trips when I was just a little kid, and we’d hit little towns like this – Ranson, West Virginia; Maybrook, Arkansas; Delgado, Utah; and the like. They survive because people just want things a certain way. Otherwise, they grow until they’re like your Ponyville. As for this one? Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Watch some Ken Burns documentaries on the subject, Lyra,” Lorne helpfully provided. “It should help explain a bit more about this sort of Americana. Oh, and for the record? I come from this sort of small town as well, so it’s not all that rustic and isolated.”

“You do?”

“Arthur, Nebraska,” he said with a note of pride. “County seat of Arthur County, Nebraska. When I was a kid? Population was a whole whopping 145 people. My brother still lives there, and from what he tells me, population has virtually exploded to a grand total of 500 folks.” He opened the door to the diner and waved them in.

As they entered, a man at the counter waved to them. “Howdy an’ welcome t’ the Ellingt’n Diner! Make yerselves at home, sit anywhere ya like.” The three of them chose a booth by the window, and sat, Paul still looking over some paperwork on his tablet while Lyra looked out the window at the town and Lorne checked his email.

A few seconds later, the waitress approached. “Howdy, y’all! Mah name’s Indy. Whut c’n Ah g….” Everyone looked at their waitress, even as she stared, her face somewhere between surprise and anger, back at the three of them.

“Okay, now I know why this place is called Ponyville,” Paul said to the waitress.

The three seated at the table looked at their waitress. She was a pegasus mare, a beautiful deep indigo color, with a lemon yellow mane done in a frizzy manestyle and a tail the same color. Her eyes were a soft cobalt hue, and no one could see her cutie mark, as it was currently covered by her clothing, a sweatshirt and jeans. But those eyes narrowed in anger at the three. “Ah got nuthin’ t’ say t’ you,” she snarled.

However, her companion at the counter caught it instantly. “Hey, Indy? Why dontcha mind th’ till an’ Ah’ll help these people.”

“Help ‘m out th’ damn door, if’n y’ know whut’s right,” the pony hissed as walked towards the counter.

As the man approached, he said sheepishly, “Sorry ‘bout that. Don’ know whut’s gotten inta her.”

“That might be my fault,” Lyra admitted glumly.

“Beg pardon?”

“Sir, my name is Lyra Heartstrings, and I’m the Equestriani ambassador to the US. Across from me is Dr. Lorne Faust, the Assistant Secretary for the Bureau of Alter-Earth Affairs at the US State Department. And lastly, my husband, Paul Phillips; Paul’s a legal partner for Lincoln, Lincoln & Phillips, a law firm in Washington DC.”

“Wow, VIPs. Anyway, Ah’m Jesse Stiles, owner o’ th’ Diner. Ah’m guessin’ yer here t’ talk t’ Indy.”

“Well, we were hoping to talk to the mayor of the town, first. Maybe he or she would be useful in talking to the ponies that live here—”

“Sentenced here,” Jesse countered, not unkindly. “Many o’ them see it as a prison without walls.”

“They had the option to live anywhere in the United States that they chose,” Lorne commented. “They all chose to come here to Ellington – or Ponyville, as it seems to be now called.”

Jesse nodded. “Yup, w’ changed th’ name ‘bout eight years ago, Ah reckon. Did it t’ show them they’re not alone.”

Lyra felt a pang of guilt at that. “Equestria has never abandoned them,” she said; even as the words rolled off the tongue, she knew it was a lie.

So did he. “Tell some’n else Ah’ll believe, lady, ‘cause that ain’t it. But anyway, yer food. Whut’ll ya have?” The three quickly gave their orders: Paul, the roast chicken platter; Lorne, a club sandwich; and Lyra, a hayball sandwich – it had been a while since she’d had Equestriani cuisine, which was pretty much the same as human food, only tailored for ponies.

The trio went back to what they were doing earlier for several minutes, but Paul caught his wife’s forlorn look, reflected in the glass of the window. “Hon, this wasn’t your fault. If anything I’m to blame. I’m the one who represented them in the legal case here on Earth.” He placed his hand on her hoof, giving it a soft squeeze. “You were just the intermediary in all this.”

“Yes, but as ambassador, it’s my job to protect my people, not just the interests of the Crown,” she said, “and I feel that I’ve let them down.”

“Damn rightcha did,” Indy said as she came back to the table with their orders. “An’ look, Ah didn’t mean t’ blame y’ specific’ly, Ambassad’r. Ah just…why us? Ah culd unnerstand th’ ones that did th’ deed, but…the whole cohort? Ah did nuthin’ wrong! Ah wus never there! An’ yet here Ah am, servin’ out a sentence Ah did nuthin’ wrong fer!”

Guilt tore into Lyra’s heart as though she’d been shot. “Indy…I don’t know what else to say. I’m sorry.”

A sudden look came on Lorne’s face. “Lyra, why do I get the feeling I’m not being told the whole story?”

She sighed. “Lorne, you obviously know about the whole situation regarding the Foalnapping Affair and the subsequent criminal trial, correct?”

“Yes. A hundred or so members of the then-Royal Guard were found guilty of attempted rape and kidnapping DJ Martinez, attacking her family and attempted trespass. Since your government disavowed the whole thing and gave us everything the Department of Justice and State of Virginia needed to convict the attackers, they spent five to ten years in jail. Once that happened, handling of the whole situation moved from State to DOJ.”

“Well, then you may not know about the rest. Under Crown law, the lawbreakers were also convicted in a court of law, and our jury issued the maximum punishment allowable: exile from Equestria, never to return again. When we found out about the convictions in the American court system, the Crown discussed with DOJ as to what needed to be done next; they in turn petitioned the states for settlements and only Missouri stepped up to the plate. Thus, in return for an annual payment – about $12 million – from the Crown to the US Government, part of which goes to Missouri, once the convicts served their sentence in court, they were allowed to resettle here.”

Lorne suddenly became livid. “And when were you going to tell me this, Lyra?”

“Lorne, you’re finding out today…which was a week after I found out! These ponies have been here for fifteen years and I didn’t know about it! This was all done behind my back and yours!” Lyra shot back. “Why the hell do you think I feel like crap? Because in the nearly two decades that I’ve been doing this job, I just found out, and by a pure stroke of luck!”

“Y’ whut?” Indy said, shocked.

Lyra looked at her. “Who are you?”

“Mah…mah na….” She paused as if to cough, and in a second the fragile waitress went away as she drew upon who she was. Eyes went steely, posture went military straight and accent went away. “Guardspony Indigo Horizon, 37th Combined Guard Cohort, ma’am.” She then seemed to deflate as she returned back to her prior self. “At least, that’s who an’ whut Ah usedta be. Now? Just a waitress an’ a wife.”

“Best wife Ah’ve e’er had,” Jesse called from the counter.

“Only wife y’ve e’er had, I reckon,” she teased back.

“Wait…you two are married?”

She nodded. “Bin t’gether nearly fifteen years now.”

“But…that would mean….” Paul had a bemused look on his face. “And here I thought Lyra and I were the first human/non-human marriage.”

“Y’are,” Indy assured him. “Jesse an’ Ah’re not really married, but we’re t’gether fer life. Commun law marriage, Ah think th’ term is.”

“Just didn’t feel like tying the knot?”

She shook her head. “He an’ Ah would love nuthin’ more than t’ do so. But, y’ see, there’s a mite bit o’ a problem.

“Ah don’t exist.”

The food had grown cold as Lyra told the story. As they were the only customers in the restaurant due to the rain, Jesse and Indy had joined them at the table to hear everything.

“It started about a month ago when the Ministry of Finance noticed a bunch of unaccounted payments going towards the Ministry of Defense. As his highness Prince Jackas…I mean, Prince Blueblood, was going through and cutting some of the fat out of the Crown’s budget, he noted that absolutely none of those unaccounted funds were unaccounted for in Defense’s budget either.”

“A black budget?” Lorne answered.

“What’s a black budget?” Paul asked.

“It’s a term for a budget for the heavily classified stuff the military does,” Lyra responded. “If you don’t want the public to know about what you’re doing, you pay for it out of the black budget. Some countries even go so far as to not even admit they have a black budget. But here’s the thing: in Equestria, black budgets are against the law. Anything that goes dark has to come out of the Special Operations budget, whether it’s Destrier training, Courser weapons or Seapony attack boats. But based on analysis, the money wasn’t going there, either. It was going into some kind of black budget.

“So Finance had the Mage Guild conduct an investigation. What we found out was rather…disturbing. The money was being sent to the Defense Ministry, and then to the Royal Equestriani Army. From there, the REA was funneling the money to the modern Equestriani Royal Guard, the ones in charge of protecting the Royal Family, the palace, etc. However, as they are the only remnant of the original Guard pre-modernization, they’ve also been tasked with handling legacy issues from those days…and that’s where the money is going.

“Indy…Corporal, if I may,” Lyra said, “It may interest you to know that the Crown now knows your unit has been smoozed.”

“Smoozed?” all three humans said.

“Smooze…it’s hard to explain, really,” Lyra said. “It’s a sort of alchemical residue that if left unchecked, grows out of control, kinda like that old Blob movie we were watching the other night, Paul. Because of that, mages make getting rid of any smooze their number one priority.”

“So what smoozin’ means t’ th’ Guard is t’ get rid o’ problem units,” Indy said, sadly.

“So…a ghost regiment,” Lorne commented. “Before I started working at State, I was briefly working for the Army at the Pentagon. The military had discovered a couple of ghost regiments that were assigned to protect the remains of bases that had been disestablished ages ago. The regiments were filled with undesirables that were of no use to the Army but too problematic to get rid of, so someone in the Army sent them to rot somewhere. In one case, a ghost regiment was assigned to the old Fort Jefferson in the Dry Tortugas National Park down in Florida, with no other purpose than to just guard the old standing masonry walls of a garrison that’s been decommissioned for over a century. We eventually got rid of the ghost regiment, but it left a bad taste in my mouth, so I jumped ship to State first chance I got.”

“So, the 37th Combined Cohort no longer exists officially, and it’s been ghost regimented to this town?” Paul asked.

“Worse than that, hon. The ponies of the 37th no longer officially exist either, and guilty or not, they’ve all been exiled here,” Lyra added.

“But…‘ts not fair! Ah wus with th’ 37th for just a week th’ incident happened an’ now we’re moved here an’ Ah c’n never go back? Ah want mah family t’ know about me an’ Jesse! Ah want t’ visit them agin!” Indy looked completely heartbroken. “D’ they ev’n know Ah’m still alive?”

“Do you know why you’re here?” Lyra asked. “It would help me to get the Mage Guild to start a criminal investigation.”

“Because we know too much.” Everyone turned their heads, and found a black pegasus standing at the door, leaning against the frame. He was wearing a plaid shirt and jeans, and had a beaten-up backwards baseball cap.

“Oh, heya, Jim,” Jesse said, waving to the black pony sitting in the door.

“Heya, Jesse – oh, before I forget: we’re getting the new Studebaker MUV-Rs in next week, since you wanted to replace Indy’s car.”

“Thanks.”

Lyra looked at the pony and recognized him, knowing him by a different name. “Sergeant Roughwind, I presume?”

“I was, once. Not anymore. Now I’m James Roughwind, owner of the local car dealership. Yeah, I went native, but what choice did I have? I’m a convicted felon here and home, and a mannulus non grata back there. There, I don’t exist – even my family there’s disowned me. Here? I can have a life, even if it isn’t the one I had. Did you know once somepony is exiled from Equestria, they no longer legally exist? My wife was suddenly divorced…scratch that, always single and had a home and all the bits in the bank that were suddenly now inexplicably hers, provided she never bothered with me again – hell of a way to end a relationship. Me? Nothing other than an end-of-incarceration check from the US Government after my sentence was done.

“I served my time in a human prison – first Red Onion State in Virginia, then Potosi Correctional here in Missouri. I know there’s nothing for me back in Equestria. I was assigned a mission and I got ‘creative’ and it got screwed up in the worst possible way. I’ve spent every day of my life haunted by the fact that Darkstreak got killed trying to pull that filly off the tree she was holding. I hate myself for not recognizing human clothing, since the others were wearing them. I’ve spent every day of my life since obsessing over all the mistakes I made and hoping that I can make up for it. I would like nothing more than to apologize to Sandalwood someday for whatever I did to her and her human family.”

“I can arrange that. DJ is a personal friend of mine and speaking off the record, I’d very much appreciate it if you did.”

“If you can arrange it, I’ll be there,” he said solemnly. “But as I was saying here, I had a chance to start life anew here in Ellington – now Ponyville – and I took it. Married one of the mares in the 37th, and we’re hoping to have a foal soon. My fellow convicts, we’ve all paid our dues and started life anew here. But the rest of the 37th? They’re innocent. Take Indy here. She came to the unit day my strike team arrived here on this Earth, so do you know what that means? It means as far as the operation went, she only knew two things: jack and shit. Fine, sentence our centuria, all one hundred of us ponies to exile. But the whole cohort, getting smoozed? And they did it because potentially somepony outside my centuria knew? That just ain’t right.”

“I see. Well, I needed to talk to your mayor anyw—”

Roughwind grinned. “You’re lookin’ at him. In fact, welcome to Temporary Town Hall. Since we’re renovating the actual building, I’ve been using the corner over there—” he pointed to a roped off portion of the diner, “—as my unofficial public office. And since Jesse’s on the town council, he doesn’t have the luxury of missing a meeting.” He moved to where they were sitting, grabbed a chair from a nearby table and said, “So if you’re here just to give us a sob story about why you can’t help us, I hope you enjoy your preferably very short visit. If not, please say your title is for than just your personality.”

“Then you’re in luck, Mr. Roughwind,” Lyra said. “That’s what we’re here for. You remember my husband, Paul, correct?”

Roughwind, after all the years, hadn’t forgotten. “You were in bed with our lawyer? Literally? Looks like we weren’t the only ones who got screwed.”

“Lyra recused herself at any step of the case, and most of it was over by the time she and I got involved,” Paul responded. “If you have any issue with that, then take it up with me.”

“Look, I enjoy two males fighting over me as much as the next mare, but one, I’m already married; and two, that’s not the point. The point is that I am here, on behalf of the Crown, to bring back those who desire to return.”

“And that ones that don’t are screwed?”

At that point, Lyra wished she could have somehow picked up her friend Fluttershy’s infamous Stare; it might let her get in a word edgewise with this mistrusting stallion. “The ones that don’t…we’ll work with the State Department to see about getting them fully immigrated, complete with green cards.”

“And the price is me telling you about who ordered the Foalnapping?” Roughwind snarled.

“Nope. The price is you telling Archmagus Twilight Sparkle about who ordered the Foalnapping.”

His black coat seemed to shift to pale gray as he blanched. “Are you nuts? The Bearer of Magic? Head of the Mage Guild? Duchess Shetland? The freakin’ younger sister of Prince Shining Armor, sister-in-law to Princess Cadance and personal protégé to Princess Celestia? And you want me to tell her?”

Lyra crossed her arms, giving Roughwind a full glare. “Yes.”

“You’re clearly in a destructive mood today. There was a reason the entire 37th got smoozed, you realize! It’s more than just the error me and my team made – this is something that could shake the Solar and Lunar Thrones at their core!”

“Would you rather talk to someone higher?”

Roughwind was about to say something when Indy spoke up. “Jim! This is a chance fer those that wanna go home t’ get home! An’ Ah wanna contribute, even if’n Ah’m stayin’ here! Y’ know th’ sheriff’s been tryin’ t’ get us!”

“Trying to get you? Are you in some sort of legal trouble?” Lyra asked.

“No, not like that,” Roughwind explained. “The State of Missouri has had endemic problems with poaching and the like over the years. The sheriff’s department and other police agencies in the general area know that all of our people are trained in police duty, so for years they’ve been relying on us for backup. They’ve even tried hiring outright, but with so many in legal limbo, like Indy here, we can’t be of help the way we want to or they’d like us to.” Roughwind looked at Indy. “I’m sorry but I….” He trailed off.

Her eyes, her heart, they showed nothing but pain. For years, she’d always stood up for when others in the 37th blamed him, Hairpin Turn, Rolling Thunder or any of the assault team for their troubles. And she tried so hard to fit in, to try to make a life for herself when she knew she wouldn’t be able to return home. But now here was a chance…and he was turning it down because of an outdated loyalty to a government that clearly no longer cared about what the fate of their vanished ponies were.

“Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll talk. But my condition is that you get these ponies help: a trip home for those who want it or legal status for those who want to stay here. That’s my condition. It’s too late to help me and the rest of us convicts, but not for the others.”

Paul nodded. “I know someone who can help us; he’s an immigration lawyer, interned for us at the firm. I think he might be able to give us a hand or at least point us in the right direction. Just let us know who’s who.”

Roughwind shook his head. “I can’t tell you who’s who; I’m just the mayor of the town, not the spokespony for the exiles here. There really isn’t one. I’m guessing those who have kids will want to stay; the majority will want to go back.”

“Okay, let me make some calls then, and I’ll see what I can do. I can’t promise anything for those who want to stay, but I will do everything I can to ensure that those who wish to go home can and will go home.”

“That’s all I can ask for,” Roughwind said, offering Lyra a hoof. Lyra in turn connected and shook.

“Well, that was certainly an interesting experience,” Lorne told Lyra as the three had dinner in St. Louis. Paul had tuned out most of the conversation, as he was currently working on trying to get in touch with the immigration lawyer he had in mind.

“And that’s why I needed you here, Lorne. I remember you telling me that you have no idea on what you want to do when you retire, only that you’ll be bored as hell and you don’t plan to stay in the Metro area.”

“No,” he shook his head. “My days in DC are done, Lyra. No interest in being dragged back for emergency sessions in Budapest because someone sneezed incorrectly and someone else took it as a pretext of declaring war. But I still don’t see how I—”

“These people!” Lyra waved. “These ponies need someone here who can and will speak for them. You’ve been Assistant Secretary for AE Affairs, so you know us – you know me! Just like I’m the supposed expert on your people, you’re the resident expert on us. These ponies, especially the ones that will be staying, will need someone strong, brave and trustworthy to be on their side.”

“Lyra, this is the 2040s. No one’s writing Jim Crow laws towards ponies.”

“You’re missing the point: no one needs to. If I recall some of the history of what you’ve told me, prior to the 2029 DREAM Act, no one was really writing laws against Hispanics legally in this country but it made them nervous. Hell, the President of the United States was Hispanic at the time and people still freaked out – if we ponies hadn’t shown up to be the resident distrusted flavor of the decade, it would have still been that way.”

“No one distrusts—”

“Let me see if I can recall some of the specist slurs made about ponies.” She paused before saying, “Kickstands. Tugs. Geldos. Roadshitters. Cathyfuckers – I don’t even know what that means.”

“Okay, I get the point: your people are still distrusted in some circles, but what can I do?”

“What you’ve been doing all along – be a voice for the Alter-Earth species. The only difference is, instead of doing it from Foggy Bottom, you’ll be doing it from the trenches. Living amongst them.”

Lorne was taken aback. “You want me to live in Ponyville?”

“Well, let me guess: you were thinking of going back to the hustle and bustle of metropolitan Arthur, weren’t you?”

“Well, let me talk to Cree and see what she says – my wife has been against moving to Arthur as well, and truth be told, I’d probably be just as bored there.”

“Let me put this out for you,” she said, waving her arms out expansively. “Mayor Faust.”

Now he looked at her as if she was joking. “Lyra I seriously doubt—”

“Trust me: once they find out you’re moving there and with your reputation amongst ponies? You’ll have to pick out a new chair for your mayoral office before you can even start thinking of campaign platforms.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

He nodded, smiling briefly. “Well, if you insist, I’ll consider it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to pay the bill so I can justify this being a business trip, and then I’m going up to my room to get some sleep. We might be the same age, Lyra, but you definitely age better than I do.”

“All a part of being a unicorn, I guess,” she said pleasantly. “See you in the morning.”

As he departed, Paul looked at his wife. “Okay, so when did you become a bullshit artist?”

She grinned. “How long have we been together now, counselor?”

“Touché. Anyways, I just spoke to the McAllister campaign. They’ll plan it out and send that immigration lawyer. His name’s Carlos Salazar, by the way.”

Lyra blinked for a second. “That name sounds awfully familiar.”

“It should: he’s one of DJ’s childhood friends and was in Equestria for the trial. He apparently went into law specifically so people like her or him – he got his citizenship through the DREAM Act – wouldn’t have to deal with that crap again. I’ll be meeting with him first thing Monday morning; bit out of my scope, but don’t I think Abe and Mary will mind.”

She leaned forward onto his shoulder, flashing him bedroom eyes. “You do know that you’re so sexy when you pull strings for me, right?”

He grinned knowingly. “I’m guessing we’re not getting much sleep tonight, are we?”

She kissed him, whispering, “Well, you know me, love – a mare’s work is never done.” She then backed off, went back into business mode and commented, “And now I have to call Twilight.”

“You’re such a tease, you know that?”

“And I thought that’s what you loved about me?” Quickly calling Twilight’s office number, she was somehow not surprised to hear her old friend burning the near-midnight oil. “Twi, there is a thing called home. You should use it more often.”

“You know me, Lyra,” the mare said in a bemused tone, “I’m not happy unless I’m in overkill mode.”

“I know. But I’ve got big news for you: you remember Roughwind from the Foalnapping case?”

“Lyra, we’re old friends, right? Let me spell something out to you, just because we’re old friends. If you ever bring that bucker’s name up again, it had better well be a good reason.”

“Easy, Twi. Well, he’s ready to talk. About who was behind him.”

“Really? No prancing?”

“Seriously. It’s tied into the 37th being smoozed out here to Missouri, and he’s willing to talk on the condition we repatriate those who want it or get full immigrant status for those who want to stay. Paul’s working the US angle, I’ll talk to our folks at the Ministry of Justice, but I’ll need you to get a team available to talk to him.”

“I can get a team together by tomorrow morning. Let me get a hold of some of our contacts in the FBI as well, since it’s technically their ballgame.”

“Give me about a week to work my magic and then we can do this.”

“You have no idea how much I appreciate this, Lyra.”

“Hey, DJ’s a friend of mine as well, so I’d like to see this solved. And I owe you anyway for the revised amniomorphic.”

“Anything else?”

“Nope, other than I’m going to drag my husband up to the hotel room for some wild s—”

Twilight laughed. “I don’t need those details, Lyra.”

“I know. Talk to you later. Bye!” She looked at him. “So, ninety minutes to digest food, maybe watch a crappy pay-per-view movie in the meanwhile and….” She leaned forward, kissing him. “I think you can figure the rest out.”

“I swear, Lyra, sometimes you play me like an instrument.”

In turn, she patted her flank, giggling. “It’s all in the cutie mark, sweetie. All in the cutie mark.”

CHRISTMAS SPECIAL: Guess Who's Coming for Christmas?

The snow fell on General Mitchell International, white and ephemeral. Over the speakers, a soft tune lilted through the station; someone with enough knowledge of classic rock would have recognized the artist as Mazzy Star. Due to the time of the year, there were scant people in the airport, mainly those who had to be there and those waiting to go somewhere else.

Sitting in the Starbucks adjacent to the windows of the main terminal, a man watched the snow fall on those outside as passengers came to and fro and transporters picked up and dropped off various people. Some of them looked as though they’d been flying for hours; he could certainly understand that, as from the time he left Doha he’d been travelling for over fifteen hours. But that was the norm when serving in uniform, and in fact, even sitting in the Starbucks he was dressed in his dress blues, because it made it easier to get around in airports while Stateside during this time of year.

Two years. He’d already been overseas for two years now at FIFTHFLT HQ, and he still had two years to go on this hitch. At least next year he could negotiate new orders; he already had some ideas in fact. He’d just have to discuss them with a certain other individual when he got the chance.

“Hey, Lieutenant?” Ensign Mike Hengst, US Navy, looked up and saw the barista dropping off an extra coffee for him. The barista had the just-growing haircut of someone recently having departed military life. “On the house. I know what it’s like being away from family this time of year.”

“Ensign, actually – and I’m headed to see my grandparents. But thanks for the brew.” He looked back at the barista. “Just get out?”

The man laughed. “That obvious? Yeah, just left the Army after being stationed in Korea for four years. Girlfriend didn’t want to wait much longer to get married and I didn’t want to lose her, so I got out. What about yourself?”

“Oh, I can honestly say I’ve got a gal like no other. Very unique,” he said with a smile. “I’m stationed overseas, but thankfully she’s willing to wait. And very much worth the wait.”

“You can say that again,” a sultry voice said as a redhead slipped her arms around him and cooed in his ear. “Wanna take me home tonight, Sailor?”

The barista laughed. “Well, I’ll let you two lovebirds be. Merry Christmas,” he said, walking back towards the counter.

As he walked off, the redhead slipped into the chair next to Mike, lounging lazily. Her slightly wavy red hair framed a pair of deep blue eyes, fair skin and a body that swimsuit models would kill for. Any guy would be crazy not to go after her, Mike thought, though in his opinion she was just crazy. “So, having fun embarrassing me, Shelby?”

Shelby Hengst laughed. “Little brother, you’re waaaaaaay too uptight, you know that?” she said, taking the extra cup of coffee and claiming it as her own. “So, how long have you been here? My flight got in an hour ago. And speaking of flights, where’s your better half?”

Mike was about to respond when his phone went off. He checked it just long enough to read the text: ARGUING WITH IDIOT @ COUNTER; RACIST TARD NEEDS TO FOND! XXXOOOXXX! DJ.

Pocketing the phone, he sighed and said, “Well, she’s at the rental counter picking up the car.”

“Well, while we’re alone, Michael, I need to talk to you.” That mention caused him to worry; no one in his family called him by his full name unless something bad was going to go down. “You’ve been in international transit, so there was no way to get a hold of you. I promised Mom and Dad I’d tell you; they already told Chaz and Hope. Grandma and Grandpa wanted the whole family to come, so….”

Mike blanched. He knew exactly what his sister was about to say. Looking at his cup of coffee, he muttered, “I wonder if I can have a few shots of whiskey added to this.”

“Yeah, you and me both, little brother.”

He looked wistfully at the nearby airport bar, which was unfortunately closed for renovations. “So who’s in charge of damage control?”

She smiled wanly. “Well, in addition to Mom and Dad, Uncle Ernie will be there, because he doesn’t want crap to start and give the old folks a heart attack. Plus, apparently our cousin Joe and his wife Mary will be there. Everyone else was warned in advance and is staying home to avoid Hurricane Debbie.”

“Great, just great. Remind me why we can’t have a normal Christmas gathering?”

“Well, you and Chaz are married to or marrying, quote ‘freaks’ unquote, this might be the last time we’ll ever get to spend with our paternal grandparents – and the condo in Miami is too small to suddenly change our collective minds and see our maternal grandparents. Plus, Grandma and Grandpa might not live to see you and DJ get married, Mike. Regardless of our aunt’s opinions – and I’m using the term loosely here – I think you should let them see the wonderful girl you’re going to marry someday.”

“Speaking of which, the wonderful girl looks like she just pulled up,” he said, coffee in hand and pointing at the outside, where a figure shrouded in black was getting out of the champagne-colored SUV. He knew that the black bridgecoat the figure wore was more for avoiding the falling snow than the chill; after all, she came with a natural coat that insulated her. He knew that gait, that half-angry shuffle and sharp jagging of her tail when she was irritated; he also knew how to calm down the tail’s owner. After all, he’d known the girl for a decade now and two years ago had asked for her hand in marriage – even if it’s technically a hoof, he mused with a tiny smile. Daisy Jo Martinez, the first of her kind, albeit accidentally, on their world and the reluctant forerunner of her entire species. She was ever discomfited by that; humans at first based their assumptions of ponies based on the one that had never been raised with her kind; and likewise ponies oftentimes treated her like she was one of theirs even though for all intents and purposes she was as human as he.

Shelby grabbed both hers and her brother’s bags, allowing him to go make a quick order of coffee for his fiancée. “Mike, I’ll meet you at the car, okay?” Not waiting for an answer, she walked out of the café area, made a quick wrap around a stanchion and out the door, into the bitter Milwaukee winter night.

A few minutes later, he came out, coffee in hand for both of them and found she was done loading the luggage into the car with Shelby having beaten a safe retreat into the warmth of the SUV. He also looked at the car and winced: a 2036 Porsche Cayenne Turbo S, something a bit pricey even for her own funds – as a writer, her monthly royalties were more than his paycheck.

He brought the coffee over to her. “Hey, I seem to have lost my fiancée around here. Know where she might be? Only girl in town with her looks, literally.”

She took the drink, then looked up at him with her soulful violet eyes. “I’ll have to check with my betrothed, assuming he gets his ass in the car before he freezes to death. But he can kiss me first.” Mike bent down and did so, the pairs’ lips meeting gently. “I’ve missed you,” she said, refraining from hugging him only because of the coffee cup in her hand.

“You sure you want to do this?” he asked, looking at her. He couldn’t tell her, not yet.

She smiled. “For you? Anything. Besides, I sure as hell didn’t come to Milwaukee for the beer.”

“But Milwaukee is beer town, hon.”

“Yes, because Coors is a priceless treasure of American culinary culture,” she said, sarcasm in full brunt. “Besides, you know I prefer wine coolers.”

Shelby knocked impatiently on the window and DJ climbed into the driver’s seat while Mike hopped into the passenger’s. “What’s the deal with the car? Isn’t it a bit out of your price range?”

“Well, to be honest, I was just about to leave, because the idiot clerk at the counter said ‘we don’t serve kickstands.’ When I explained to him that I didn’t care for his tone or attitude, several people thankfully made a fuss, too.” The humanized pony grinned wickedly. “And then when the manager came out, turns out he’s a fan of my work – and also made the political connection, too, since well I’m me and all. He offered me the Porsche for the same price as the Kia Sorento I was thinking about. Plus, I got to have the clerk pretty much in fear for his job before I let him off the hook – it is Christmastime, after all. So we get a nice set of wheels and get to relax in—” she started running a hoof on the seats, cooing in a faux-Spanish accent, “—reech Corinthian lethur,” before breaking out into a giggle fit.

Mike chuckled himself; it was great to be back with her, warped sense of humor and all. “You know where we’re going?”

From the back, Shelby gently smacked him in the back of the head. “Well, duh – I already bumped the address over to DJ, goofball. Dee, you’d better make sure you straighten him out when you guys get married – the boy needs a gentle touch.”

DJ laughed. “Already on my list, Shelby. And Mike, get some sleep, please. I know you’ve been up for the past fifteen hours, but we’ve got a whole week to be together.” She briefly placed her “hand” on his before moving it over to the automatic shifter.

“DJ, I don’t get to see you enough as is, hon,” he said, reaching over and caressing her cheek. “I’m in this for the long haul and so are you, but only getting to see you once or twice a year sucks. Really does.”

She sighed, looking briefly at the GPS display on the dashboard before turning the car out onto to the Airport Spur, aiming for Interstate 94 and their eventual destination. “Oh, and before I forget: here.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out something small. “Merry Christmas from Logan. Did personalized mixtapes for all his friends and put them on Micro DPB sticks.”

“That’s nice of him,” Mike said, yawning and fighting to stay awake as the car smoothly cruised down the road. He was already feeling the drowsiness kick in despite the coffee; he wanted to spend every moment with the woman he loved. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s enjoying the radio personality life in LA. Just bought a house in Montebello; I was over for the housewarming party. But his last girlfriend left him, so his love life sucks. I told him he could do better than a sales clerk who works at Knotts Berry Farm, but he swears he was totally in it with Pam, so I….” She trailed off, watching him finally slip into sleep. Reaching over to pull the gift out of his hands and place it on the dashboard, she whispered, “I’ve missed you sooooo much,” before caressing his face with her free hand.

“You know, DJ, I envy you,” Shelby said from the back. “You two have been together forever. I can’t even get a boyfriend to stick around for a year. You two will probably be for life and no offense, but yours isn’t the type of relationship anybody’d put money down on.”

DJ looked at her future sister-in-law via the rear view mirror. “I know what you mean. Your brother is a very special person: he took a chance on us because he saw the real me when others were still afraid of the so-called Alien Girl. Even now with ponies being a part of humanity’s reality ten years on, relationships like ours are very rare. I only know of one other.”

A goofy grin crossed Shelby’s face. “Well, put a smile on that face, because he’ll be with you forever. C’mon, smile, smile, smile!”

DJ laughed. “You know, you remind me a lot of one of my pony relatives – I think you’d like my aunt Pinkie if you ever met her.”

The two continued to chat softly as the car crossed onto the freeway, headed towards its northern destination: River Hills, a suburb of Milwaukee nestled just on the coast of Lake Michigan.

“Look, Ernie, I know she’s our older sister, but…c’mon. Do Mom and Dad have any idea of the powderkeg that’s about to happen?” Carl Hengst sighed, shaking his head. “Debbie’s going t—”

“Hey, man, I getcha. But Debbie’s our sister and Mom and Dad don’t have much longer to live. I talked to their doctor, and he says next heart attack is gonna kill Dad; and Mom, well, you know she’ll literally die of heartbreak. And they want the family here, so we’ll have to deal. Look, I’m just glad that my kids decided to spend Christmas with their spouses’ families instead of being here in this mess, because that would only add to the fire. And I talked to Joe privately and he says he and Mary will do everything they can to keep Debbie from picking on Hope. She’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

Lila gave her brother-in-law a feeble smile. “Um…believe it or not, it’s not Hope we’re worried about – not as much, that is. I don’t doubt for one minute that Debbie won’t try to start something with Hope, but…well, it’s Mike’s fiancée that’ll be coming too, and….”

“Wait…Mikey got engaged and you’re just now telling me about it?” Ernie backslapped his fingers across his brother’s chest in an odd congratulatory gesture. “So, Mikey got himself an Arabic girl from Bahrain – Bahraini, right? Yeah, I can actually see how that could be worse than Hope.”

“Um, actually, he’s been seeing DJ since high school,” Carl corrected, “and they got engaged a couple of years ago. But it—”

“Betcha you got some great pictures of them,” Ernie said, grinning. “Always knew that kid of yours would do good for himself.”

Lila looked at her husband with a message in her eyes: Picture’s the only way. Seeing his brief nod, she fished her phone out of her pocket, and bought up the gallery. “Mike sent us this picture of them after he proposed to her in Boston a couple of years ago. They’re perfect for each other, and we absolutely adore her.” Lila passed the camera over to Ernie.

Ernie took a look at the picture – and stared. After a few minutes, he looked up at his brother and sister-in-law. “This isn’t a joke, is it?”

“Nope. You can, uh, kinda see why we’re a bit more worried about DJ than we are about Hope.”

Ernie ran a hand over his head. “Fuck…yeah, I can see why. You’re seriously not kidding me about this?”

Carl looked at his older brother. “When they first met…I tried breaking them up myself, because of the same damn fears. She proved me wrong and has been there for us in ways even our own kids haven’t – when Lila and I caught that bad case of SARS just after Chaz and Hope’s wedding, DJ pretty much was the one who played Florence Nightingale because most human viruses don’t affect her. So believe me when I say that if she ever runs into trouble, well, as far as I’m concerned they gotta go through me, first.”

Ernie grinned. “Then we’ll make sure we got her back.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey, hon, we’re here.” Mike felt a tap on his shoulder. Sleepily opening his eyes, he found his angel looking right at him.
“Yeah, took longer than usual, though: accident on the Brown Deer road offramp; had us waiting in traffic for half an hour,” Shelby said from the back as she opened her door. “But it gave me an’ DJ plenty of time to talk.”

That statement chilled Mike’s blood; his sister definitely bordered on the impish, though he knew she loved him. Turning to DJ, he asked, “How much would it take to get you to forget anything she said?”

“I promise not to use any of it against you unless I intend to totally mortify you,” she said in a sober tone and her right arm raised. Then she smiled and said, “C’mon, let’s go meet your grandparents.”

The pair got out of the car, Shelby merrily skipping along and DJ falling into place right next to her fiancé. The snow continued to fall, and she whistled appreciatively. “Wow, kinda reminds me of my abuela y abeulo’s place in San Marino. Didn’t know your family was loaded, Mike.”

“We’re not, not really,” he responded as he looked at the place. “Just the house has been in the family since the Hengsts first immigrated to America. We just got lucky that they chose to build a large home in River Hills, which eventually turned out to be the wealthiest suburb of Milwaukee. Just like your family, I guess.”

“Uh, not – the Martinez family helped found Los Angeles, and own a crap ton of real estate on the west coast. Just that Dad wanted to do his own thing, so he went into the Navy instead of one of the typical family businesses like law, banking or real estate. The fact that Dad hit the big time on his own is totally a coincidence,” she answered. She looked at the house again. “Though I’m sure half the family would have a cardiac if they ever saw this.”

The house in question was a large mansion at the end of Juniper Drive. The manor, a huge building overlooking a pristine view of Donges Bay and Lake Michigan, had plenty of parking and the like and easily looked like old money. To the side was a boathouse that led directly to the waterside, while towards the far left there looked a….

“Don’t worry – Dad remembered asked Uncle Ernie to stable them elsewhere while you’re in town,” Shelby said. “Uncle Ernie raises ponies…I mean, dwarf horses – still getting used to that term, sorry – as a hobby. Mike told me you had an unpleasant incident with horses when you were younger.”

DJ nodded. “Remind me to tell you about it sometime; I think I can wring sympathy out of just about anyone with that.”

Just as they approached the door, it was thrown wide open and a huge bear of a man walked out. He had a bushy, Santa-like beard, sandy blonde hair and looked like he could bench-press an ox. “Shelby, looking as adorable as always, kitten. And Mikey! Out there, righting wrongs in the trenches and airfields?”

As one, Shelby and Mike looked at each other, then back at their uncle. “You do this on purpose, don’t you, Uncle Ernie?” they said as one.

He grinned. “Yeah, still got it,” a reference to an old joke the trio shared between then. He then looked at the newcomer, and the look on his face clearly said that he was getting used to the idea, though to his credit he didn’t mean it in his voice. “Hello, you must be DJ. I’m Ernie Hengst. I’m their uncle and the youngest of my parents’ kids. It’s…uh, nice to meet you,” he said, offering a hand.

She gave him a smile, taking his in hers and shaking. “Nice to meet you as well. Wonderful house you have here. Jacobethan architecture?”

He gave her a curious look. “Yeah, my great-granduncle redid the house in the 1930s. But you’re one of the few to notice something like that. Interesting.”

DJ grinned. “As a writer, I have to know a lot of stuff, whether I like it or not. Besides, my apartment complex is done in the Jacobethan style, so it’s something I’m a little familiar with. Personally, I kinda prefer art deco, but you take what you can get.”

Ernie elbowed Mike, whispering to his nephew, “Smart as a whip. And likes deco. You’d better marry her soon, Mikey or I might just steal her from ya.”

Mike rolled his eyes, waiting for the inevitable, and he didn’t have to wait long. “I’ve already broken this one in,” the humanized pony said, wrapping her right arm around his left one, “and I just don’t have the time to train another boyfriend. Sorry.”

Ernie laughed; he hadn’t expected that. “I’d say ‘how’d you hear me?’, but I’m guessing you hear better than humans?”

DJ wiggled her ears. “Well, not that my parents would ever admit, but yeah, hearing comes part of the standard package.”

“Well, you three, don’t just stand there in the door, c’mon in!” With that, Ernie ushered the three younger ones in. “Carl and Lila are in the kitchen, brewing something warm for the three of you. As for my parents, Chaz and Hope took them out to run some errands, but they’ll be back soon.”

Mike tried to broach the subject carefully. “Uncle Ernie, is uh, A—” He stopped as soon as Shelby kicked him gently. “I guess we need to talk about this, don’t we?”

“Okay, I’d like it if someone stops dancing around whatever’s going on and just tells me, okay?” When the three looked at her oddly, she said, “Mike, I know you – you have this look in your eyes when you’re hiding something from me because you want to protect me, and while I love you for that, I can deal with it. Shelby, you frowned very briefly the moment Mike said it, so I’m guessing you’re in on it. And Ernie, you had the same look in your eye as Mike, so I guess it’s a family thing with the menfolk.”

“DJ, it’s not like Mike meant to hide it from you,” Shelby began, “none of us did. But we wanted to wait until you and Hope were here so we can all talk about this as a family – of which you are a part of now, even if not officially yet.”

“Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like this?”

The answer came about thirty minutes later. DJ had enough time to say hello to her future in-laws, who were absolutely happy to see her. She also had enough time to make a quick call to her parents and her grandparents to let them know she made it with no problems. She had just slipped her phone back into its holster when Mike came up to her. “Hey, Chaz and Hope are here. Ready to do this?”

“I guess,” she said, suddenly wondering if coming here was a good idea after all.

He noticed her apprehension immediately and went up to her, rubbing her almost nonexistent shoulders. “Relax. Mom, Dad and Uncle Ernie wanted you and Hope to be aware. It’s not like we’re not going to look out for you – and like I’d ever let something happen to you anyway.”

She leaned back into him. “I’ll manage as long as I’m with you.”

Shelby then walked into the room where the pair was. “We’re all waiting for you in the dining room. Grandma and Grandpa went to bed early, so you’ll have to meet them tomorrow, DJ. You ready to do this?”

DJ smiled. “Hey, I’m just a normal girl living in a screwed-up world. I’ll manage.”

The trio eventually made it over to the table, where everyone was sitting: Carl and Lila, Shelby, Ernie and Carl and Lila’s oldest son Chaz and his wife, Hope. Hope was first generation Mexican-American and despite her parents’ impoverished status had worked her way to a scholarship at Stanford, where Chaz was studying at the time; they married and eventually moved to Seattle, where Chaz worked for Microsoft and Hope was a schoolteacher. The two were meeting each other for the first time and after a few minutes of chatting, the meeting got underway.

DJ took a sip of the wassail that Lila had made for everyone. “Mom and Dad say hi, by the way,” she told Mike’s parents. “Also, Carl, Dad says to let you know the Brewers suck.”

Carl chuckled. “He would say that. Not even baseball season yet and he’s already getting into an Angels vs. Brewers thing. But we’re not here to talk about that. What we are here to talk about is…well, I’ll be honest: this isn’t going to be easy.”

“Then you’d better let me handle this, Carl.” Ernie leaned forward, arms resting on the table. “Carl and I have an older sister, Debbie. She, uh, has certain preferences, and….”

Hope ran a tan-skinned hand through ink-black hair; she was already a veteran of this kind of conversation. “Su hermana es racista, ¿es eso lo que estás diciendo?” she muttered aloud.

“Creo que eso es lo que están tratando de evitar decir abiertamente,” DJ added.

Hope looked at the pony. “Wait…you speak Spanish?”

“Well, I am Hispanic.”

Everyone looked at DJ oddly while Mike laughed. “Uh, hon, ‘Hispanic’ is a human appellation.”

“Okay, so my Dad and little brother are Hispanic, so I can say ‘adopted Hispanic’, right? In any case, I obviously habla Español, or else my abeulos would never let me hear the end of it. But that’s not the point. What is the point is that Hope’s right, isn’t she?”

“We’re not proud of that, mind,” Carl said. “In fact, we rarely speak to my sister and she’s never around for holidays, and even her only son doesn’t buy into that. But considering my parents’ condition, they wanted to see her, even with…well, I hope you understand. Normally, this would be hard enough on Hope, considering she’s very clearly Latino, but DJ….”

“Yeah, I get it. But you know me: I’ve dealt with way worse. I can handle this.”

“I’m here with you every step of the way, hon,” Mike said, squeezing her hand.

“For both of you,” Chaz said to his wife.

“So when do they get here? And who has the fun of having to pick them up?” Shelby asked.

“Joe said he’ll drive here, so no one has to deal with the initial pain. And if it’s any consolation, Debbie knows about our parents’ condition, so she’s not going to do anything to agitate it much. Means you’ll have to deal with some of it in private, you two, but when anyone else is around she’ll hopefully keep her mouth shut.”

“Let’s hope there’s that,” Lila agreed.

The rest of the night had gone fairly smoothly. DJ and the rest had talked, and both she and Hope had gotten to know the family they had married into (or soon would, in DJ’s case.) The Hengsts had made their fortune in America by way of importing; a family of seagoing men obviously knew the ins and outs of shipping back in the earliest days. Of course, Ernie Hengst hadn’t taken the career path his brother did, but DJ was somewhat surprised to learn that Mike’s family was behind one of her favorite retailers.

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about that, but….” Mike had mentioned, while DJ grumbled about all the hundreds of dollars she’d spent that she could have avoided had he said something. And hours later, it seemed to Mike that he probably wasn’t going to live the faux pas down for the rest of his life; with her, he was already used to that. “Are you coming to bed or planning to sulk all night?” Mike asked. At the moment, DJ was seated by the window, watching the snowflakes fall at just past midnight. The guest room they were using was tastefully decorated – and one of several in the house.

She favored him a smile for that, banishing the earlier quarrel. “Actually, hon, I was just thinking – I still haven’t met your grandparents. I hope they’ll like me.”

“Why wouldn’t they? You’re bright, beautiful, friendly, caring – the ideal girl.”

“The ideal girl, as far as I know, doesn’t come with a tail,” she said, looking absently at her own. “Might be generations before anyone like me is ever considered ideal.”

“And this bothers you how?” he asked. “I get that you’re a bit nervous, especially with the extra info about my aunt. But regardless, nothing’s going to change. At the end of the day, I’m still going to marry you as soon as I transfer duty stations. My parents will still adore you. Shelby will still think the world of you, and while you just met Chaz and Hope today, I think you’re getting along great with them. Hell, you even impressed my Uncle Ernie and he tends to run on the skeptical side.”

“Mike…this is my first time really spending time with your family. If we’re going to be doing this on a regular basis, then I have to be the ideal girl.”

“Just be yourself, hon – no one was expecting me to be perfect when we spent last Christmas with your extended family in California. And even still, you’re ideal enough for me.”

“And you wonder why I love you so.” DJ didn’t say anything for a few minutes more until: “Just had a strange thought: I wonder if it snows in Equestria.”

“Equestria?” Mike sat up for that one. DJ almost never discussed the land of her birth except in context of her family back there and even then not often. “With the weather magically controlled? I don’t see why they would want to deal with all that cold. But what brought this up?”

“Just…what if the situation was reversed? What if I were living with…her…and you had to come to Ponyville to spend time with us? Would you be happy? Could you be happy? Since the trial, I’ve read up a bit more on Equestriani culture and everything I read makes me think I’d have an easier time fitting in with crowds in France, Germany or the UK than the place I’m originally from.”

“Hon, it’s been nearly ten years now and you’re an adult now – by both American and Equestriani standards. No one has any say over your life now except you. And you know Twilight and the others wouldn’t have allowed that. So why worry?”

She looked back out the window again. “Sweetie Belle came to visit last month. She says hi, by the way. She was taking a week off work, something about needing a break while working on a particular project. I think she and Pip are going through another phase in their relationship and I kinda get the feeling Twilight wishes they would just go and get married, but I guess that’s none of my beeswax.”

“Well, she is your aunt after all; it’s okay for you to care,” Mike pointed out.

“I know. Anyway, we spent most of the time she was visiting running around museums and such in LA – she really liked the Getty and the Cabrillo, but I think she really got a kick out of the Magic Castle. The regulars there were very impressed to see true magic in action instead of just stage magic. I think she enjoyed herself overall, but…I get the feeling something was amiss and she just didn’t want to say anything.”

She sat there for several more minutes, until he finally got out of bed and put his arms around her. “DJ, what’s bothering you?”

She leaned into him. “After all these years, I thought you’d be used to my moods.”

“I am. And this isn’t one of them, not normally. So, are you going to tell me what’s bugging you, or am I going to have to drag you to bed?” Before she could even answer, he tossed her onto the bed, kissing her passionately. Before long, she gave in, joining in before stopping and giving him a look somewhere between scolding and desire.

“I thought we agreed – not until we’re married. I’m trying to be a good little Catholic girl.”

“Yes, but…that doesn’t mean we can’t still do other things, right?”

She mock sighed. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

The next morning, DJ came downstairs with the intent of heading into town to get some shopping done. Mike had chosen to sleep in, and for that matter, so did most everyone in the house – with one notable exception. Seated at the table, nursing a cup of coffee and poring over a tablet, was Hope. She heard the rustle and looked up. “Oh, good morning – don’t mind me; just grading papers while I’ve got the chance. I really came to unwind and spend some time with Chaz’ family, and I can’t do that if I’m glued to work, so I’m trying to get it out of the way.”

“I see. Well, I was headed into town to do some shopping, and if you feel like escaping from the red ink, I’m up for company.”

Hope shoved the tablet back into a nearby purse, saying, “Thought you’d never ask.”

A few minutes later, the two were headed down the road towards town, the Hengst kids having bowed out to spend time with their parents. That worked well for DJ, as it would give her time to pick up a gift for her beau. After quickly looking up some information, the two decided on The Shops at Grand Avenue, a mall downtown.

As they drove along, the two chatted breezily, two people figuring out where they fit in the scheme of each other’s circles. DJ in particular, expressed surprise at Hope’s lack thereof. “I realize I’m not what everyone expects, but even still, you didn’t seem very surprised when you saw me.”

“Well, I knew about you and Mike from talking to Carl and Lila,” Hope pointed out, “plus, I have to admit, I have a daily reminder. There’s a pony couple that moved into our neighborhood a couple of years back, and I have their oldest girl – filly? – as my current student. Cloudberry Jam is having a hard time adjusting, but I’m guessing her parents are even more so since they lived their whole life in Equestria and didn’t have to deal with human customs. Cloudy’s just a kid, so she’ll be able to adjust better, but that makes it all the more impressive that you did so without any other ponies to help you with that.”

DJ waved it off as they arrived at the mall. “Meh. Mom and Dad didn’t know what I was, only that I needed parents. Thankfully for me, they figured that out and took care of me from that point. Part of the reason I’m as human as I am, I guess you could say.” They pulled into a parking space and filtered out of the car, entering the main point of the mall and started shopping. As per the norm, DJ got some stares, but nothing that she wasn’t already used to. And as the time wore on, the two women had to make at least one stop back by the car to drop off packages, turning out to be a very successful holiday haul.

But, as the norm for DJ, things certainly got out of pocket quickly.

The humanized pony had stopped to get a couple of drinks from Brew City Brews for her and Hope while the latter went off to get something for DJ for Christmas – something Hope insisted, especially after DJ blurted that she’d gotten something for Hope and Chaz. That left her amongst a pile of bags, waiting and watching the crowds go by. Occasionally she would wave at the children who walked by, many of them surprised to see an alien even though it was now common knowledge of the other world’s existence. She wondered how much more shocked they’d be if they knew she was the reason humanity in 2036 was no longer alone.

And that was right about the time the sting jolted up her spine. Another thing about not being truly human was adjusting to people occasionally stepping on her tail, a quick charge of pain that made her wince. Thankfully, most of the time people noticed and moved off with an apology or other indicators to let DJ know it had not been intentional. But the continuing discomfort she was feeling now meant one of two things: that either someone had stepped on her tail deliberately, or hadn’t noticed. Usually it was the latter.

She turned and tapped an older woman on the shoulder. “Excuse me, but you’re sitting on my tail.” The woman refused to move, however, and the pain was really getting to DJ, so she said a bit louder, “Excuse me, but you’re on my tail.”

The second time, however, got the attention of a man sitting across from her. He was balding and a bit on the paunchy side with thick glasses. He called out, “Uh, mother, the, er, person, uh, behind you is, um, trying to get your attention.”

The woman, a grayed-haired woman who looked rail thin and wore a fur coat, took one look at DJ and sniffed. “I think I need to have a chat with the management about letting pets run free around the place.”

Pet? Buoyed by dozens of memories – all of them bad – of her early, “pre-person” years, the humanized pony’s blood began to boil…only to calm down again as DJ reminded herself that it was the holiday season. Well, that and I promised not to make a public spectacle – though the throbbing pain is making it hard to deal with right now. “Look, lady, just get off my tail, okay?”

Looking at her, the milquetoast man said, “My, er, apologies, ah, miss. Miss, is it? Apologies if it’s, uh, not. I’m, er, not as, uh, familiar with aliens as, I, uh, should be.”

“You shouldn’t bother with the thing at all, son. No telling what otherworldly diseases she probably brought with her from where she came from.”

“Where I came from is LA, you idiot,” DJ seethed, the pain starting to get the better of her. “Now you can either get off my tail, or I can boot your ass into Low Earth Orbit!” DJ placed a hand on the woman’s chair, intent on moving her whether she liked it or not.

“Unhand me, you…thing!” the woman said, appearing totally mollified. “Who knows what kind of infection you have!”

“Mother, please! We shouldn’t make a scene like this,” Milquetoast said, clearly being ignored by all.

DJ was about to blow her lid when Hope arrived, intervening. “Saw the whole thing from afar. You okay?”

The pony relaxed, glad to have a friend onsite. “Yeah, now I am,” she lied, the pain now excruciating. “Thanks.”

Hope gently lifted the woman’s chair, letting DJ painfully pull her tail out from underneath. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, lady. She’s in pain and all you’re doing is insulting her?”

“Go back to your own country, illegal.” The statement was blurted out so clearly, practically all sound seemed to stop, except for Milquetoast, who buried his head in his hands and muttered, “Here we go again.”

“Illegal?” Now it was Hope’s turn to be infuriated. “Let’s get something straight: I was born here.”

“I suppose you expect congratulations are in order? Well, I suppose you must find English to be necessary for your job as a prostitute.”

Hope was about to go ballistic when DJ found herself in the unusual position of playing peacemaker. Now I know how Mike felt in high school whenever I argued with Valerie. Pulling Hope back, she said, “Just like you said, hermanita. Not worth the problem.”

“Oh, and looks like the thing can speak Spanish as well – how lovely. I guess like owner, like pet.” The look on the woman’s face was one of glee, and it was clear she was trying to get a reaction out of them.

“Look, let’s just get out of here before we have to explain things to the mall cops,” DJ replied. “Thanks for backing me up. Oh, and DIAF, lady.” Before she could react, the pair headed out, DJ’s tail flickering in the usual jagging motion when she was angry, but tempered by the spikes of pain she felt when it moved.

“I can’t exactly tell because I’m not there in person, but from what the pictures show, it could have been a whole lot worse,” Erica said over the phone while she was talking to Mike. “Just bind her tail up and make sure she doesn’t use it much. Might hamper her walking a bit, but it’ll heal faster.”

“Thanks, Erica. I’m sorry to bother you like this.”

“For you guys? I’m always available. But I hope I’ll get to see you guys again before the wedding.”

Mike smiled; good friends were always hard to come by. “It’s a promise. I’ll let you get back to work then. Thanks again. Bye.” Holstering his phone, he went over to where his fiancée was laying on the bed, her tail now looking the worse for wear and flecks of red in it as the actual tail structure’s bruises shone through in places, some bad enough that the skin had been torn and bloodied. “Erica says we need to wrap your tail up.”

DJ sighed, then quickly winced as another shock of pain filtered through. “You know I use my tail for balancing, hon. Not going to be easy to get around unless I use it.”

“Shelby went off to the store to get you a cane. I know it won’t make it easier, but it’ll have to do.” He sat down on the bed next to her, seeing the morose look in her eyes. “Look, I’m sorry you had to deal with that. I should’ve just went with you.”

“No, you wanted to sleep in and spend time with your parents. I understand.” She gingerly turned to look at him, and there were tears welling in her eyes. “The hard part isn’t the injury – though that’s not fun. It was the insult. I…nobody’s ever made me feel like I don’t belong, not in years. But there was just this…maliciousness...in her eyes. She treated me like I was some kind of thing. She even referred to me as a pet, wouldja believe?”

“Well, I always thought of you as my pet,” he said, petting her on the head to complete the bad humor.

“Wow, we’re not even married yet and you’re already cruising for a divorce,” she jibed.

“Seriously, though, I promise you won’t have to deal with anything like that again.” He ran his hand down her back; she arched slightly, an involuntary reaction. “I’ll always protect you, hon.”

“You really know how to make a girl feel special,” she sighed, content to be at his side.

There was a knock at the door, and Shelby and Lila came in. Shelby held up the cane, a garish holiday version painted like an oversize candy cane. “Yeah, I know, not at all stylish, but hey, what can ya do at the last moment, huh?”

Lila, for her part, seemed discontent. “DJ, do you think you need to go to a hospital? I’ve already called the local one and while there’s no Eq.D on staff, they can fly one in from Chicago if need be.”

“That won’t be necessary – Mike called Erica and she said all I need to do is just to wrap it for a few days.”

Lila then looked at Mike. “Speaking of calls, your cousin just called and they should be here in five minutes.” She then looked back at DJ, adding, “And I know Mike and Shelby have said this more than once, DJ, but while Debbie may be family, so are you.”

“Thanks,” she said, then jolting as Mike carefully took her tail and applied isopropyl to the injured parts. “Ouch, that smarts.” She looked back at him. “I know you’re trying to be gentle, but…a little more careful, please?”

“Trying as best as I can, hon.”

A voice called down from downstairs: “Hey, looks like they’re here.”

“I guess we should go see her, huh?” Mike asked, looking at his mother and sister.

“Naah, you take care of your girl, bro. We got this.” Shelby dragged her mother out of the room, leaving the couple alone.

A few minutes later, Mike finished up, taping up the edge of the gauze. “There. You should be good to go.”

She got off the bed, wobbling as she did so. “There are days when I wish ponies had kept the thinner and smaller tails of their horse ancestors instead of evolving thicker ones,” she said as she took the cane Mike handed her.

“That or just ditched the tail entirely?”

“That would’ve been preferable.” She leaned against him, forgetting all about the pain for a second. “Of course if I didn’t have one, I couldn’t wrap it around you like I do.”

“You like doing that, don’t you?”

“It has its uses,” she said with a smile, as the two lovers were drawn closer together…

…only to be jolted back into ugly reality by the scream of “YOU!”

DJ waddled down the stairs to find the scene a mess. Chaz was there, holding Hope and looking like an older version of Mike crossed with Shelby’s coloring. Carl and Lila stood firmly behind Chaz and Hope, while Ernie and Shelby were in the middle, looking as though they were trying to prevent a catastrophe.

Standing across from them was a rather plain looking woman in frumpy clothing that did nothing to make her look attractive. There was also a man next to her…the man from earlier. Which meant that…

“WHAT IS THAT…THING…DOING HERE?” Sure enough, it was the older woman from earlier, the look on her face one of pure and utter disgust.

“That person is my fiancée, Aunt Debbie.” Mike stepped in front of DJ, determined to protect his love. “And I would appreciate it if you treated her as such.”

“Ah, poor dear Michael. And I had such hopes for you,” she tut-tutted. “To think that it was bad enough that your brother Charles married that…immigrant. And now, I find that you’ve taken an interest in bestiality.” She turned to Carl, adding, “Well, at least my son was raised properly.”

“You just don’t get it, do you?” Lila said, stepping forward. “It might be the mid-‘30s, but you have to realize it’s the 2030s. We all grew out of that crap ages ago and it’s a shame you haven’t.”

“I’m sorry – I was discussing this with my brother, not you. If I wanted your opinion, I would have asked for it.” She looked at them all imperiously before saying archly, “Well, I shall go bid my parents hello, then rest in my room for a bit. If anyone has anything worthwhile to say – of actual import, that is – then I shall consider it.” With no further fanfare, she went upstairs.

The room went silent for a few before DJ spoke, unnaturally calm. “If anyone needs me, I’m going to be outside blowing off some steam…starting with juggling the VW in the driveway.”

“Hon, no bench-pressing Jettas,” Mike reminded her.

Everyone looked at them in surprise until Carl chuckled and said, “I don’t think I’ll ever fail to forget that day.”

“Hey, I’m just a weakling, it’s not like I can actually juggle the thing – just lift it clear.”

After another uncomfortable pause, Ernie was the one that voiced it: “You’re…not kidding, are you?”

DJ had the good sense to be embarrassed about her statement, while Mike put an arm around her and said, “Her particular subspecies can usually lift close to two tons on average, but since she grew up here without magic, she’s extremely weak in comparison.”

DJ nodded. “I can only lift just over one horsepower – about a third of a ton total.”

Ernie grinned. “Mikey, do yourself a favor and don’t arm wrestle her over who’s doing the dishes.”

It was then that the rest realized that not everyone in Debbie’s party had went upstairs. The man looked at everyone and said, “Sorry. Uh, mother is, er, a bit worse than, ah, usual, as you can see. She, well, really doesn’t mean, um, to hurt anyone, and, uh….”

“Joe, she just insulted everyone here, not the least of which were both my wife and DJ,” Chaz spoke out. “I appreciate that you and Mary are here to keep her reined in, but…look, I just don’t think this is a good time right now.”

“No, um, you’re right, ah, of course. It, uh, never really is.” He then looked to Hope and DJ and said, “I, eh, would, um, especially like to apologize, er, to you two. I don’t, um, I, uh, I don’t….”

“Water under the bridge,” DJ said, offering a hand. To her surprise, Joe took and shook, then offered the same to Hope. She did the same, and the room relaxed.

“Well, now that that headache’s done, I’m thinking we can go get a Christmas tree,” Mike announced.

“Um, I think Grandma and Grandpa have a couple of artificial ones,” Shelby pointed out.

“Yes, but having DJ tear one down with her bare hands from a local tree farm is a much better way for her to work out her aggression than weightlifting Chaz’ rental car,” he said with a smirk.

She leaned into him. “See? He knows me well.”

Several minutes and a drive later, nearly all had traveled to Cedarburg, save for Debbie and the grandparents, in order to get the tree. Settling at the Winter Wonderland tree farm, they spent a while arguing over the perfect tree; as per every Christmas tree discussion through time immortal, somehow it all broke down into a gender squabble: the men wanted the largest tree possible, while the women wanted the fullest one possible. It took nearly an hour of driving the farm staff up the wall before they found the perfect tree, on the far side of the lot.

And now all of them stood before the tree, gazing at its verdant majesty. It was beautiful, serene.

DJ decided it was going down in one blow.

As she handed her cane and coat to Mike while she took the axe from an incredulous, muscular man who was completely surprised that the small wisp of an alien was claiming she would take it down in one blow, Mike whispered in her ear, “Don’t overdo it, okay? Everyone here knows you’re strong; no need to show off.”

“I’m not.”

“Look, I’m just worried about your balance. Remember, you did just get your tail injured.”

She kissed him on the cheek. “Trust me,” was all she said.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he murmured as he stepped back.

The farm employee took one last look at her, then back at Mike. “Look, sir, I don’t know anything about alie…er, ponies, but you sure she’s gonna be okay?”

As if in response, DJ hefted the axe and looked at her target, a tree trunk roughly eight inches in diameter. Checking briefly to see that the axe was ready to go, she put much more than usual strength behind the swing. The sap-stained white ceramic wedge slammed its way through the wooden torso of the tree like a bullet impact, sending shards of bark and splinters flying. The blade came out the other end, the man reaching out to catch the tree, keeping the look of incredulity from his face as DJ set the axe down and theatrically bowed to everyone…just as her tail caught up with the physics of the swing, sending a sharp spike of pain that sent her tripping to the ground.

Mike looked back at the employee. “I’m not really sure how to answer that,” he said.

“Furball, we know you’re an adult and capable of taking care of yourself, but don’t overdo it. Remember when you were eleven and your father threw out his back getting a Christmas tree for us because he wanted to be impressive? Same thing.”

DJ was both touched and exasperated to hear her mother’s concerns over the phone. “Look, Mom…it wasn’t my fault, okay? And I am being careful.”

“I just want to make sure, sweetie. When Mike told us you got hurt, obviously we were worried.”

“Well, he has a flair for the melodramatic at times,” she grumbled, giving her betrothed an annoyed look; he just stuck his tongue out at her and went back to helping put ornaments on the tree. “But I promise that I’m okay. I have everyone here looking out for me. Don’t worry.”

“Well, I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing. Remember your father and I love you.”

“Thanks, Mom. Love you guys too. Bye.” She clicked the phone off and slumped back in the chair, then looked at Mike. “Thanks – now my parents are freaking out.”

He rolled his eyes. “And you say I’m melodramatic. But you have to promise me you’re not going to skylark again. You could have fallen on the axe and injured yourself. I don’t think anyone was expecting you to black out like that.”

“Look, neither was I, okay? There are just some things that even I don’t know about my physiology. Maybe I got a nerve bruise that I wasn’t expecting. Either way, I’ll be fine,” she promised.

A voice called down from upstairs: “Joseph, are those malfeasants gone yet?”

“Or not,” DJ amended, hissing through her teeth.

“Mother, ah, both of them are, uh, down here an—”

“Say no more,” Debbie said sharply. “I shall remain up here with my parents to ensure they aren’t…tainted by—”

“Oh, Christ, give it a rest already, lady!” Hope shouted upstairs, angry. Chaz merely gave his wife a look of apology, then put his arm around her in silent support.

“Joseph, I could have sworn I heard someone unimportant. Well, I shall remain up here to protect my parents regardless.” Nothing more to say – or perhaps not wanting to deal with anything further – she left the staircase.

“Sweetheart, do you really mind if I kill your aunt?” Hope asked her husband.

“Oh, you shouldn’t bother yourself with that,” DJ said sarcastically. “After all, I’m just the family pet and becau—” She would have said more, but the look on Mike’s face shut her up. “Sorry, hon.”

“No, you’ve every right to be mad, both of you,” Mike said. “Dad, Uncle Ernie, you guys have gotta do something about this. We can’t put up with this the whole week.”

“Mike’s right,” Ernie told his brother. “We’re trying to spend a holiday week with our parents that might be the last, not drive them to the grave even earlier.”

“I’ll talk to them,” Carl said, heading up the stairs.

“Well, before I get downgraded to muppet, I think I’m going to go take a walk. I think I could use some time to think out a scene for my next book.”

“You’re a writer?” Joe popped up, his attention now caught.

“Yeah, I have a couple of books under my belt.” She noticed that he was being a lot less of a wallflower now that some apparent common ground was reached. “I take it you’re a writer?”

“Um, just a western novel, nothing, er, serious.”

She smiled. “We’ll talk later, and if you’ve got your manuscript, I’ll be happy to read it. But for now, I’ve got a date with the lakeside and my fiancé.”

“Mah nà, mah nà, Do do de do do,” the humanized pony hummed to herself as the couple walked along the shore of Lake Michigan. The pair were trudging through the snow, and though the weather was a bitingly cold 21 degrees at the moment, neither minded as it gave the two time to be together.

“You’re in a better mood now,” he noted.

“Because I’m away from that whole mess. I’ll be honest, hon: if she keeps this up, I’m not sure that I’d want her at the wedding.”

“Well, if it matters any, she stayed away from Chaz and Hope’s wedding since they got married in San Francisco. They got married there because of the view; however, my aunt thinks of the town as something far different.”

DJ’s eyes lit up. “Of course – who doesn’t think of Ghirardelli?” When Mike playfully pushed her, she winked and said, “Yeah, I know what you mean. So I’m guessing she won’t bother coming to ours, then?”

“Oh, more than that: she’ll pester everyone in the family not to come. Unfortunately for her, nobody listens. Oh, and speaking of marriage, I talk to the detailer in April about my next duty station. They’ll probably send me to a seagoing unit, most likely a ship. Anywhere you’d like to go? Maybe Hawaii?”

“What about San Diego? Nice place, I know the area, and since I have family in the LA area, it shouldn’t be a problem in case things get hairy for us.”

“Well, I’m hoping to avoid a carrier, to be honest. Kinda prefer small boys: cruisers, destroyers and frigates. I’ll be home more often, then.”

“Yes, with your alien wife,” she said offhandedly.

He nodded slightly; maybe now she was going to tell him what was bothering her. “DJ….”

“I know you’ll always see me as who I am; I’m just wondering if those down at the base will.”

“You know what? That’s their problem, not yours.” He stopped by a tree, then looked at her again. “DJ…don’t let the kind of person my aunt is get to you.”

She seemed to deflate. “Sorry, it’s just…well, since the custody battle in Equestria, I’ve led a charmed life. Everyone back home in Winchester knew who I was; and they had years to adjust, so to them I’m no different than anyone else in town. And for the past six years, I’ve lived in Southern California, which probably should be classified as a separate planet, so I fit in there as well.”

“Um…last time I checked, San Dog is part of SoCal. And you say you know the place, right?”

“Well, kinda sorta. Me and Logan tried to go down to Tijuana back in October for some gig he was deejaying at – and yes, he joked about that all the way. Well, they wouldn’t let me across the border because apparently a driver’s license isn’t enough to prove I’m American and not Equestriani – and the Mexicans don’t have diplomatic relations with Equestria yet, apparently. So we ended up goofing off in San Diego, so I am familiar with it. But…I’m sorry, it’s just….”

“‘It’s just’ nothing, hon. It’s clearly bothering you and I want you to tell me.”

She was quiet for a long time before finally speaking up. “How do you do it? We’ve been together for ten years now and I love you for every moment of that, but…that’s also ten years you’ve had to put up with insults, threats and worse. I know you didn’t want to get married just after college, because…well, if I can’t get into Mexico, imagine the hell I’d be going through in Bahrain. And you wouldn’t let me deal with it, so you went alone. And you’ve had two years of it there. And you had four years of it at the Academy. And the times at home that I assume you didn’t tell me about, though I’m guessing that was few and far between.”

Mike led her over to a bench, dusting off the snow. He took her face in his gloved hands, his hazel eyes locked onto her violet ones. “DJ…I’ll be honest: it hasn’t been a cakewalk. You were there the very first time I had to deal with it. And you’ve seen several times when I have. But you haven’t seen them all. There’ve been times now and then where I’ve gotten it bad, I won’t lie. Times I won’t tell anyone about, because it’s something I have to face.

“But you have to understand something: I don’t care. I don’t give a damn about what they call me. You were right there when Muldaur called me a horsefucker, and earlier today when my aunt accused me of bestiality. And I think the biggest blow to my ego was when Julie Ladd, one of the other ensigns I work with at Fifth Fleet, pretty much announced our relationship in the worst possible manner because I intended to stay in the relationship I have with you instead of going in her direction: she went and ordered me a lifetime subscription to Farm Animals Monthly – and yes, that’s a real magazine and no you don’t want to know what’s in it.”

“You’ve never told me that before,” she said, her heart beating at a furious pace. She reached out to caress his face, her hoofspace feeling the coolness of his cheek in the winter air. “Why didn’t you? You’re not alone, love.”

“Because it’s not important to me, DJ. You are a person; the law said so even before I met you. So I’m dating and marrying a person, just like me. And even if it wasn’t? I still love you, and I’d fight for you. I don’t care if I’m the first person who ever loved a non-human, I don’t care if I’m the first person who’s marrying a non-human—”

“Uh, Lyra and Paul have been married for three years now, hon.”

“Thanks; you just ruined my whole epic speech.” He threw up his hands in mock-exasperation. “But seriously: he can do that, because I was the one taking the first blows. And you know what? I’m fine with that. Because of all those insults and jibes, he and Lyra are happy…and I couldn’t be happy with anyone else but you.”

She smiled, and it was the greatest thing in the world to him. He leaned forward to kiss her, their cool lips touching in the winter evening. The snow began to die down and the pair looked at the brilliantly beautiful night sky, a canopy of stars covering the dome of the sky.

The following morning, a half-awake Mike came walking down the stairs, headed into the kitchen. At the table were his parents and a huge pot of coffee, as well as plates filled with the detritus of eggs, sausage and biscuits and gravy. Behind the counter was his uncle, cooking up a small storm. “Hey, just brewed a fresh pot,” Ernie said to his nephew. “You hungry?”

“Thanks,” he said, sitting down at the table and pouring himself a cup while Ernie got busy at the stove. Looking at his parents, he asked, “Anyone seen DJ?"

In response, Lila pointed behind her. Outside, a very industrious DJ, Shelby and Hope were building something that looked like the remains of snowman horrifically fused with a snow fort. “You missed the snowball fight a few minutes ago,” Lila told her son. “Not sure who started it, but it ended when all three collapsed in the snow.”

He watched the three adult women just goofing off like school age girls, an innocence lost to them by at least a decade and a half. And, he had to admit, it was good to see her smile again. Not that she was constantly dour and depressing, but the attack had taken her innocence and easygoing attitude a decade ago, and though she’d gone a long way towards recovering there were still occasional signs of her pain.

Ernie chuckled, looking at his nephew as he set a plate down in front of him. “Yeah, that’s the look of a man in love if I ever saw one. Kinda reminds me of when I first met your aunt, Mike. Mom and Dad kept teasing me that I was the luckiest man in the world that I’d landed someone as beautiful as Danielle. And the life we had together was great. I hope that you and your girl can have longer than she and I did.”

“Never thought about marrying again, Ernie?” Lila asked.

He shook his head. “It was hard enough raising Roy and Riley as a single parent, and by the time I blinked my kids were adults marrying their own spouses, and life had passed me by. I’m sure I could meet someone, but all I think about is Dani and the years I had with her; I don’t think I’ll ever find anyone like that again. All I can hope is that Roy has that same kind of life with Anais, and Riley the same with Corey. And the same, of course, goes for Joe and Mary, Chaz and Hope, and now you and DJ – you two have it the hardest of all, because of your military career, Mike.”

“Thanks.” The fact that his uncle hadn’t mentioned the other, more obvious, significant difficulty in their relationship was another reminder of how just in a couple of days that his extended family had accepted DJ into their lives. But that also left one that would never do so. “So…where’s Aunt Debbie?”

“Took Mom and Dad out shopping and errands,” Carl said. “Speaking of which, I talked to Mom and Dad last night. They know about DJ and they’ll try to talk some sense into Debbie, though you know as well as I do the chances of that are minimal.”

“So nothing changes, then,” Mike sighed.

“And I’m sorry about that, Mike,” a voice called from the stairs. The four looked up to see Joe and his wife walking downstairs. The two were dressed far less conservatively than yesterday, and were much calmer. “Believe me, neither Mary nor I have anything against DJ. In fact, if you don’t mind, I’d like to hit her up later regarding my own book.”

“So you can talk,” Mike seethed. “Not in the mood to stutter anymore?”

“Mike,” Lila began, but Joe shook his head.

“No, Aunt Lila. I deserve that. It’s so much easier to deal with Mother when I’m, uh, talking like, er, this and, uh, that, because it takes me so long to get an answer out and she’s impatient enough, so she doesn’t bother with me. And she doesn’t bother with Mary at all, because, well, Mary just ignores her. But you have to understand: my father left us when I was a kid because he couldn’t take any of Mother’s crap. My sister ran away, and we don’t know where she is – and that’s compounded by Mother insisting she doesn’t exist.”

“Gee, that sounds familiar,” Mike interjected cryptically, but Joe didn’t bother to ask.

“But anyway, if I left her, sure, my life would be a hell of a lot better…but then who will redeem her? She’s got no friends, and no life. She sits at home, watching TV, living off her trust fund and not giving a damn about the world.”

“Man, I couldn’t live like that,” Ernie said. “And you let her?”

“Uncle Ernie, who better to watch over her? I have faith that someday Mother will realize what she’s done and someone has to be there for her when that happens, because it will be very ugly otherwise.” He turned back to Mike. “But I want to apologize to you, Mike. I know DJ may be an alien, but from what I can tell, she’s far more humane than my own mother is capable of.”

“Thanks, but I’m not the one you should be telling this to,” Mike said, pointing behind him. Joe turned around and found DJ standing in the door, leaning on her cane. Behind her, Hope and Shelby stood for support, both physical and moral.

“Well, that was fun,” she said, grinning like a lunatic as she walked right into the house and dived at her fiancé’s coffee. “Man, ya shoulda been there. Your sister can throw a snowball like it’s a fastball or something. Fortunately,” she said, holding up her cane, “Dad taught me how to play softball.”

Shelby shrugged. “What can I say? It’s a talent.”

“You heard us, didn’t you,” Mike stated, clearly not a question. After DJ was silent for a second, he said, “Yup, I knew.”

“Joe,” DJ began, not looking at the person she was addressing, “I appreciate what you’re trying to say and I appreciate that you have nothing against me. And I have nothing against you.” She then turned to face him, and Mike reached out for her, knowing she needed it. “But your mother….”

“DJ, I’m sorry,” Joe said.

She shook her head. “No. It’s…I know what you’re trying to say, but you have to understand something: I’m not a human. As much as I live like one and associate with them to the near exclusion of my own kind, I’m not human. But I am a person. Even before the legal decision years ago, I was a person because two people decided that I would be their daughter. My mother and father made me a person, and no one has the right to take that away from me.

“I can deal with my tail being stepped on,” she said, her right arm gesturing down to her mangled appendage. “I can deal with insults. But I refuse to be treated as anything less than a person. I am a human being – well, sorta – and I deserve to be treated as one. And for that matter, so does Hope. She’s even got me beat on the human part and she isn’t treated any better.”

“Thanks, DJ,” Hope said as she moved over to the table.

“Well, that’s my cue to go shopping for your gift, hon,” Mike said as she got up from the table.

She looked at him funny. “I thought you got me something from Bahrain?”

He grinned. “I did. I just…some idea came into my head, so…the guys are going shopping.”

Carl nodded. “Good idea, son. I have to get something for your mother as well so she doesn’t kill me. Plus, it’ll give us all a chance to spend some male bonding time together.”

“I’m guessing that means football game at the bar,” Lila said, theatrically rolling her eyes and sighing.

“Well, that gives me enough time to go over Joe’s manuscript, assuming you have it here.”

He blinked, surprised; that he wasn’t expecting. “You meant that?”

She nodded. “I said I would, and I’m a woman of my word. Besides, it’ll give me something to do while I start preps.”

“Prep for what?”

Her grin was wide. “Tamales! Family tradition and now I get to bother a whole new family with it.”

The smile on Hope’s face was equally infectious. “Fortunately, they’ve got some cornmeal we can use.”

With that, the ladies started to invade the kitchen while the men started getting ready for their trip out. The ladies decided on a joint effort of tamales and peppermint bark brownies, and quickly dividing the whole of the kitchen between the two parts, the manse was soon host to a variety of very interesting scents and aromas.

“So what do you think?” DJ looked up from her laptop and found, of all people, Joe’s wife Mary looking at her. It was the first time the humanized pony had heard the other woman speak, and in truth DJ was beginning to wonder if the other woman was actually mute.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve heard you utter a word since you got here,” DJ accused. “Not that I blame you: your mother-in-law, I’ve noticed, is a total headache.”

Mary nodded. “Truthfully? I hate my mother-in-law. Very wrong of me, truthfully, but...I support my husband in trying to, ah, rehabilitate his mother. Even though I don’t think Debbie’s worth it, personally.”

“Some people just aren’t worth the effort, believe me,” DJ responded, the memory of an angry unicorn raging against her loved ones burning itself in her mind. “Sometimes it’s just better to give up.” She paused, pushing the laptop to the side and looked at Mary. “But if we did that…if we never reached for forgiveness, we can’t truly call ourselves human.”

Mary smiled softly. “I don’t mean this as an insult, but…for someone who’s an alien to this world you’re probably one of the most human of people I know. And I know a lot who aren’t, believe me.”

“Well, I was raised here on Earth, the Alien Girl. All I know is just being human. I met the other members of my species not much later than first contact.”

“What I meant was that you sound like you’ve had someone to forgive and that you’ve done so. Not very many people would.”

And I still haven’t, DJ said to herself, bitterly, not her. And I’m not sure if I ever will. But there was someone she had to forgive and had done so. “Because of who I am, I’ve had a lot of people wrong me in life. And I could easily wallow in anger and pity. But I couldn’t be able to move on if I did. So I chose to forgive, because otherwise bullies and bigots would rule my life. And I love my family, friends and my fiancé too much to ever let that happen.”

“Well, I hope someday I can be as magnanimous as you are. So then, back to my question: what did you think? Joe’s been working on that book for the past three years, and…well, I’m no book critic, but I think he’s got a shot.”

DJ looked back at the screen of the manuscript entitled Clockwork Flats. He’d told her it was a Western with a slight fantasy bent to it, though what he’d created was more properly termed “steampunk.” “Well, to be honest, it flows well, but will need another round of editing. I can look at this right now and know that my editor would ask for another round, as well as some better dialog for the hero – Marshall Tucker might be squeaky clean, but he reads like a bad Lone Ranger ripoff otherwise.”

“Oh.” Mary was downcast – clearly Joe had worked on the novel quite a bit and based on her response, Mary was very supportive of her husband’s attempt to break into the world of writing.

“Hey, all in all from what I’m reading, it’s a good book otherwise. Not everyone’s going to hit it out of the ballpark the first time around. Hell, even my first novel took three versions before it passed my publisher, and so many people were surprised by that they accused me of nepotism since my parents are authors as well. But if Joe’s serious about this, I’ll ask my Dad to look at this and if he likes it, pass it on to his editor – if I pass it to Marcus it might look like nepotism, so let’s get one degree away from that.”

“Thanks. I’m sure he would apprecia—” The sound was interrupted by the sudden crash of metal against something followed by an earth-shattering scream. DJ was on her feet in an instant, racing from the dining room to the kitchen, with Mary close behind her. What the pair saw was nothing short of horrific. Hope was holding her arm, trying not to scream through clenched teeth and teary eyes, the steamer pot’s contents of boiling water and tamales on the floor. Hope’s entire right side was soaked and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what had happened.

“I’ll call 911!” Mary said, rushing to the nearest phone.

Meanwhile, DJ moved to the side of Hope; the Hispanic woman was starting to go into shock. “C’mon, sit. We’re gonna get you to the hospital. What happened?”

“I’ll tell you what happened.” Both women looked at the doorframe, to find Debbie standing there. “It’s that filthy intrusion of demerited culture being placed into this house! Why, who would even eat tho—”

DJ had had enough. She brought Hope over to the nearest chair, and then wheeled to look at Debbie with angry eyes. “You listen here, you Goddamn bigot. I have had enough of your shit, got that?” And to make her point, DJ punched down on the kitchen island, full-force. The two-inch thick granite top shattered under her blow, followed by the heavy oak construction of the rest of the item. The look in DJ’s eyes was murderous as she said, “That’s your final warning, you bitc—”

“DJ, stop!” She felt Shelby’s arms wrap around her; out of the corner of her eye she could see Lila moving to Hope’s aid. “It’s not worth it, Dee, it’s not,” Shelby said, hugging her future sister-in-law for both comfort and restraint.

“What happened?” Lila asked, noting DJ’s destruction and Hope completely down as the wail of sirens started to sound in the distance.

Eight in the evening. Aurora Medical Center. Emergency room. Several people in the waiting room, anticipating the status of a loved one. It was a good reminder of how much DJ hated hospitals, for all the times she’d spent in one as a test subject and trying to prove her worth to her adopted species – and the grand insult of that was that half the time it wasn’t even really at a hospital, but the special room Dr. Hilton had built for her at the vet clinic so long ago. She was ever grateful to him for that, even more so when he hung up his vet labcoat and went back to medical school to become the first doctor specializing in equine-based sapient lifeforms. But even despite all that, she’d developed a healthy dislike for hospitals.

But in the meanwhile, it was just waiting. While Shelby, Carl and Lila had went up to give both Chaz and Hope moral support, it left Joe, Mary, Mike and DJ sitting in the waiting room – waiting. Of Debbie there was no sign, her decision to have to remain at home with her ailing parents being a little too suspect for DJ’s tastes. Fortunately, Ernie had also stayed behind just in case, having expected Debbie to poison the well further.

Plus, there was the nagging feeling that DJ had on occasion that had she been a little more human, she might have made it to Hope’s side faster. If she had real hands and feet instead of technical fore- and hindhooves, maybe, just maybe….

“It wasn’t your fault, hon,” Mike told her. “Mary told us that you were the first one to rush to Hope’s side. Believe me, no one’s blaming you at all.”

“I know,” she lied, feeling miserable. “And…I’m sorry about the granite island. That must’ve cost a fortune.”

“Islands can be replaced. People can’t,” a voice said, and she looked up to see Carl and Lila standing there. “Doctor just told Chaz Hope would have been in seriously worse shape if you hadn’t moved as fast as you did. As it is, she’s going to have second degree burns over her arm and the side of her body – it’s going to take at least a month to heal.”

DJ looked aghast at that; her eyes started to tear again. “Oh, God – I didn’t move fast enough.” She buried her face in her hands.

“No, DJ, you did.” She looked up, and it was Chaz. The look on his face was one of barely controlled anger. “And I have you to thank for that. If you hadn’t been fast enough, Hope….” He turned away briefly, not even wanting to think about it, then instead bent down to her level on the chair, hugging her. “I owe you, and I can’t thank you enough.”

“You’re welcome, always,” she said, returning the embrace. As he finally released, she asked, “What happened?”

His eyes lit with a serious anger. “Aunt Debbie was taunting Hope about the tamales and how she was ‘ruining the culture’ of the house. She got Hope agitated enough that she accidently brushed against the boiler and burnt herself; then her arm reflexed and smacked the thing, causing it to tip over. One in a million accident.” He then turned to look at his father. “Dad, I’ve had enough of Aunt Debbie. Either she leaves or I will. For fuck’s sake, Hope’s going to miss Christmas with us – the whole Goddamn reason we came!”

“She is?” Mike asked, feeling his older brother’s anger and wanting to join along. Hope had offered to stay and watch the tamales cook because DJ had promised to read Joe’s manuscript; it could have easily been Hope wanting to grade more of her students’ work and DJ ending up now in the hospital – and with DJ’s temper, things might have been much worse.

“Yeah. Doctor told me and Shelby that they want to keep Hope for the rest of the week to make sure that it doesn’t set into third degree burns. The earliest they can release her is the 27th.”

Joe stood up. “Chaz, I’ll ta—”

Chaz turned on his cousin in a heartbeat. “Bullshit, Joe. Frankly, I don’t trust you to do anything right now. You let your mother walk all over you and your wife, and you think I’m going to let you deal with this?”

Carl reeled him back. “Ernie and I will talk to Mom and Dad.” He shook his head. “And I never thought it would ever get to this.”

Back at home, Debbie looked at the shattered remains of the island that had been in their family for a hundred years. Their great-great-granduncle had installed it for his wife, a woman who had loved cooking. And now it was shards and wreckage, all because of that…alien creature and its obviously inhuman strength.

“Don’t you dare,” Ernie said, looking up at her as he cleaned up the mess. “I know what you’re thinking, Debbie. And, older sister or not, you frankly sicken me.”

“I sicken you? What that freak did to the island could have happened to me if—”

“No, no it wouldn’t have. Despite my well-known cynicism in business, I have a pretty good feel for people; when you’re dealing with the kind of money that we do for our family, I have to. And Mike picked a winner. She’s more human than many of the people I work with, and people have snapping points. And this—” he said, gesturing to the remains of the antique, “—is a person at her snapping point. One that I know you pushed her to.”

Debbie crossed her arms. “Mark my words: I refuse to be related to trash like that. At least…what’s her name…is human. Degenerate, but human. That…thing…doesn’t deserve to be on our world. What, you don’t think I know all about her? Oh, I do, believe it or not. Caused a ruckus for years in the courts because some Republican lawyer wanting to push for Senate used it as a ‘person.’ Then just five years later, her fellow aliens invaded our planet to try to get her back – supposedly, anyway. And almost started a nuclear war doing so!”

Ernie looked at his sister with new eyes; he knew she was far gone, but had never known how deep the madness had run. “A nuclear war? Oh, please. And DJ’s whole life, from what Carl told me, was half decided upon by the courts. No person, human or not, deserves that kind of pain. It’s already hard enough on her that she had to do so! And let me tell you, if she had ever met my son and they wanted to marry, they would have had my blessing immediately. Just like I’m happy for Mike and DJ. And if you can’t accept our nephew’s happiness, then I think you seriously need to reassess your priorities and if you want to be a part of this family.”

A few hours later, the rest of them trudged into the house, exhausted. Chaz had decided to stay there at the hospital with Hope; Shelby offered to do so as well to give her older brother support. As they entered, Ernie sat on a chair in the foyer. “You know, you’ve got one hell of a punch, DJ. Remind me to never get on your bad side.”

“I’m sorry about the island. I’ll be happy to replace it.”

Ernie waved it off. “Things can be replaced; people can’t. The fact that you were there to help Hope is more than enough for me. Besides, I was kinda thinking about getting a new one anyway, to be honest. The granite’s old enough that it might have radon or something concentrated, I dunno. You just made it quicker to get rid of.”

Carl looked at his younger brother. “Where’s Debbie?”

“Already in bed. We had a fight, and you can guess what it’s about.” Turning back to DJ, he said, “I wasn’t aware that you were responsible for a near-nuclear war between us and Equestria.”

DJ was taken aback by that. “Equestria doesn’t have nuclear weapons; from when we went there, I’m frankly surprised it has indoor plumbing. It’s like the Disneyland version of Merrie Olde England. Where the hell did you get that from?”

“Debbie mentioned it.” He held up a tablet, shaking his head. “Neo group in Idaho. Claims you were sent here as the harbinger of the destruction of mankind. Really sick stuff.” Ernie looked at his brother. “We…we can’t tell Mom and Dad about this. It’ll kill them.”

“I’ll kill her at this rate, Ernie,” Carl seethed. “She’s a danger – she already hospitalized Hope! And who’s next? DJ? Then after that? We know she doesn’t like Lila, either. Where does it end?”

At this point Lila intervened. “Look, let’s get some sleep and think about it in the morning. Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve and we should all go visit Hope.” Nobody argued with that, so they all headed towards their rooms.

Mike, very much a light sleeper, woke up at three in the morning from the flickers of light. He opened his eyes, only to find….

“Twilight?”

Framed by the moonlight coming through the window, the lavender unicorn stood there in a sweater and jeans, looking at him. She was haloed by motes of burgundy light; from what Mike knew, that was a clear sign of a magic spell having been cast – the only way she could have gotten here. “Oh. Caught.” She gave him a slight smile. “I guess I’m not as quiet as I should have been.”

He turned; DJ was sleeping like the dead. “Should I wake her up?”

Twilight shook her head. “No, that’s okay. The gifts were supposed to be a surprise for both of you anyway.”

“No, I mean—”

“I know what you mean, Mike. What I’m doing is teleporting in to drop off the gifts everyone had for you and her for Hearths Warming Eve. The Equestriani Yuletide is roughly around the same time as the human one.” She shrugged, adding, “Well, not all humans, I know, but….”

“Well, this is a surprise, seeing you here. I really should wake her up, by the way. She would want to know you’re here, Twi.”

“It’s a secret, Mike; I’d appreciate it if you kept it as such,” Twilight said as she sat down in the chair by the window. “I don’t think I’ve ever said this before, but I’m happy my niece has found someone as special as you, and despite all that happened to you both, you two are still together.”

“I love her,” Mike told DJ’s aunt. “In the end, that’s all I can really say.”

“It’s more than the enough, believe me. Give her my regards when she wakes, if you would.”

“Don’t you want to tell her yourself?” Mike asked, wondering why Twilight was being so secretive.

“Can’t stay long, to be honest. I’m not even here, really,” she admitted. “Astral projection, combined with tactile fields. Trying out a new spell and I couldn’t think of a better way to do so.” To prove it, her body flickered and she walked through the table, standing in its center.

Magic, of course, Mike acknowledged; Twilight’s raison d’ etre. He also wanted to talk to her about what was going on and get a fresh outsider’s opinion, but he had no idea how long the spell would last. “Then give our regards to everyone back in Equestria and tell them we miss them,” he said finally, realizing he would have to figure out the issue himself.

“Don’t worry, I will. And though she doesn’t know it yet, I was going to swing by her apartment for New Year’s Eve since I have to attend a conference in Ventura the following week. So she’ll get to see me soon enough. But I have to go now. Remember that I love you both. Bye.” And with a violet flash, Twilight was gone.

A few seconds later, DJ finally stirred. “Mike, something up?”

“Oh, no, hon. Go back to bed. Just Twilight.”

DJ looked at the clock. “Um…dawn’s not for several more hours.”

“Well, it’s well past that in Doha, and I’m still on Bahraini time,” he said, a soft smile on his face. “Watch officers like me have weird shifts, so Sailors sleep light. You know that.”

She kissed him on the cheek. “I know. Let’s get back to sleep.” DJ rolled over and was soon asleep again; Mike took the time to get out of bed, throw on a robe and slippers and carry the gifts downstairs. Soon, the glistening, magically-wrapped gifts were embedded amongst the others, waiting their turn to be presented.

Hope’s eyes were full of pain, anger and sorrow. “I’m sorry, love, but I can’t…I won’t forgive her.” Hope lay on the bed, heavily bandaged and in agony. “But you,” she said, to DJ, “I can’t ever thank enough.”

DJ nodded, relieved that Hope was okay. “Hey, we’re family, right? I only wish I’d been faster.”

“No, you lifted an arm to help me while Debbie was egging it on. I could have been in so much worse shape if it wasn’t for you, DJ. I owe you. I mean that.”

“Well, we’ll be by every day until you’re out,” Shelby said. “I wish we could get you out sooner, but doctor’s orders are doctor’s orders.”

Chaz kissed his wife on the head. “Well, we should let you get some sleep.”

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere, hon,” she said, reaching up with her good arm to caress his face. “I’d like at least someone to spend time with me, and as my duly designated husband, that’s you.”

“Then let’s leave the lovebirds be, shall we?” Shelby said, motioning to the door. Mike and DJ nodded, and soon the three were gone.

The drive back to the Hengst manor was quiet and subdued. “So, where’s everyone else?”

“Mom, Dad and Uncle Ernie are talking to Grandma and Grandpa about Aunt Debbie. Joe and Mary decided to stay behind in case they get sick of her and kick her out. Personally, I hope they do,” Shelby said, the look on her face sober. “What she did to Hope…it’s unconscionable.”

“Honestly? I hope they don’t,” DJ responded. Both Hengsts looked at her with surprise, and she smiled. “You’ll see,” was all the humanized pony could say.

“What is DJ up to?” Lila asked Shelby.

“Honestly? I don’t know, Mom. DJ insisted no one go into the kitchen because she’s cooking something special for everyone. She only asked that I make sure that everyone stays out. So it’s me out here at one end and Mike on the inside sitting by the other door. Mike did, however, assure me that Dee can cook, so there’s that. Don’t worry; I’m sure DJ’s got everything under control or at least is pretending like it.”

As Lila walked away from the door, she went over to her husband. “Apparently DJ’s up to something.”

“I know. I’m halfway tempted to call Matt and find out what if this is normal.”

Lila smiled. “I already did. Anna says, and I quote, ‘You’ll see.’ Remind me why we’re friends with them again?” she teased.

Meanwhile, within the kitchen, the MP3 player blared some song by Little Boots; Mike recalled hearing on a station in downtown Doha a few weeks back. It was a song from before he was born, all the way back from the 2000s, if he recalled correctly. But of course DJ would have it in her collection, and she seemed to be in her element as she danced to and fro in the kitchen, messing with various things at once.

“You sure you don’t need help?” he asked as she merrily moved around the kitchen, effortlessly cracking two eggs into a bowl and then went diving for the flour.

“Hon, trust me. I’ve got it under control,” DJ’s voice said from underneath the kitchen counter, “though I’m finding it a bit hard to not be able to use my tail.”

“You heard Erica: it has to stay wrapped for a week. Speaking of which, remind me to change the bandages tonight and check it.”

“Thanks.” She found what she was looking for and made a beeline straight for the fridge to dig something else out. “I hope your grandparents will be able to join us for dinner tonight. I mean, I’ve been here three days already and I still have yet to run into them. They probably think I’m a recluse or something.”

“Not at all, hon. They’re just like your grandparents: not as young as they used to be. And before you say it, yes I know that both sets of your grandparents are still in their mid-eighties, but mine are in their early nineties and from what I’m told, life at that point takes a lot out of you just living.”

“I suppose. But I’m doing my best to come up with the best Christmas dinner I can for your family, hon.”

Mike gave her that smile she always loved. “Trust me, DJ: my family’s going to love it.”

“What is this filth?” Debbie said as she looked at the dining room table. “I refuse to eat this…horse feed!” She looked at the table, and was shocked at the display before her. A bunch of dishes she couldn’t identify combined with ones that were clearly real food, but probably given some disgusting and/or wretched spin by that…thing. Was that…stuffing? If so, why did it have…something that looked like meat? And the oblong things wrapped in corn husks – clearly those “tamaley” things from yesterday.

“It’s not horse food,” Carl said, trying to keep his temper as Lila laid a hand on his. “DJ apparently took it upon herself to cook dinner for everyone tonight. Not sure why she did, but I think you should try it.”

“Yeah, this looks like seriously good eats!” Shelby perked up. “Someone pass me a tamale! Oh, and…Mike what’s that?”

“Chorizo cornbread stuffing,” Mike clarified. “Dish from DJ’s family. I have no idea where she got chorizo, but I like it.”

Debbie stuck a spoon into a reddish-brown glop; it smelled like peanuts, tomatoes and…what the hell was that? “What is this tripe?”

“It’s not tripe, trust me on that,” Mike replied. “She’s probably saving the menudo for the morning. As to what that is, it’s domeda, a Gambian peanut butter and tomato stew with chicken and the like. Knowing her, she probably made it for me, since she knows I like it.” Mike picked up his mother’s plate and reached for the ladle. “Care to try some, Mom?”

“Coming through!” The doorway to the dining room burst open and out walked DJ, carrying a huge ham, walking around the table in a theatrical manner. She placed it in the center of the table, and as she did, people got to see what she was dressed in a chef’s outfit complete with toque and a red-and-green Christmas scarf around her neck.

“Where did you get that?” Mike asked.

DJ winked. “A girl’s gotta have her secrets, hon,” as she slipped into the chair right next to him, giving him a peck on the cheek. “Oh, and Shelby, Mike told me that you like cornbread stuffing, so I broke out Dad’s recipe. Admittedly, it’s a Thanksgiving thing, but better to make sure that you were happy.”

“Enough!” Debbie practically launched herself from the chair. “Bad enough that you have this thing trying to poison us, but now she says she’s got family poison recipes? And I’m frankly surprised a beast like you has paren—”

“Don’t. You. Dare. Talk. About. My. Parents!” DJ snarled, rising from her seat. “You can say any and everything you want about me, but the moment you start talking about my Mom and Dad, you have crossed a line I will happily kick your ass to send you back across, got that?” DJ was leaning forward, and from those who knew her well, knew she was keeping a tight lid on her temper even as it was about to explode. “You can’t even hold a candle to compare to my parents, you bitch! My Mom and Dad have always loved and accepted people and extended that love to the two kids they adopted. And they certainly wouldn’t insult anyone who they invited into their home, just as your family did to me. Now whether you like it or not, I’m going to marry Mike, I’m going to be a part of this family, and you’re just going to have to fucking deal with it, got that?”

Debbie was aghast, looking at her family members for succor. “And you’re going to just let her insult me like that?”

“No,” Mike said, rising to join his fiancée. “No, you insulted her first, so it’s justified. Scratch that – you insulted us. Anything said against her, as far as I’m concerned, is against me, too.” He put his arm around DJ, holding her close to him. “And I won’t tolerate another moment of this insult, regardless if you’re my aunt or not.”

“Nor will I,” Shelby said, joining them. “While I don’t know DJ as, um, intimately as Mikey here, she’s like a sister to me and the fact that you’re being such a damn bigot draws the line, Aunt Debbie. You’re the problem, here, not DJ.”

“We agree.” Carl and Lila stood up. “And if they were here, I know Chaz and Hope – who you owe an apology to – agree. She and DJ are members of this family now, and you’ll have to live with it, Debbie.”

“You’re losing ground fast, Debbie.” She turned to her left and found Ernie standing up as well. “I told you before, I’m happy for Mike and Chaz. Why can’t you be? Or at least just accept it.”

And then, the one voice she never expected. “Mother, DJ has been nothing but a charming young woman who makes my cousin happy.” To Debbie’s horror, her own son and daughter-in-law had turned on her, both standing up in support of the pony. “To me, it doesn’t matter who or what DJ is. She and Mike are perfect for each other and that’s nobody’s business but theirs.”

Debbie thrust a righteous finger at the beast standing before her. “You! You’ve turned my whole family against me!”

“No, Deblyn. You did that yourself.” Everyone took a look at the other door to the dining room. There, standing with a quiet dignity were Mike’s grandparents. “My apologies for not seeing you all earlier at once,” he said, with his wife on his arm, “but Ernest seems to feel the need to coddle us in our old age.” He grinned. “Son, I’ve been through enough shit in my life. A little heart attack isn’t gonna keep me down. Besides,” he added, “I wanted to see the girls my grandsons are marrying. I know young Charles is in the hospital with his wife at the moment, but you must be DJ. What’s it stand for?”

She looked at him and saw the same strength she saw in Mike, Carl and other members of Mike’s family. Now I know where he gets it from. “Daisy Jo, sir.”

“Daisy Jo. That’s a beautiful name, miss. And I can see, you are very different – but different isn’t bad,” he said with a smile. “Hell, if we were all the same, my father wouldn’t have slugged it out with the Krauts in World War II. And I didn’t earn my way up to the Yards just to let anyone say otherwise.”

DJ nodded before whispering out of the side of her mouth to Mike, “‘The Yards?’”

“Washington Navy Yards. Grandpa was the third Master Chief Petty Officer of the Navy.”

“Third MCPON, huh? Dad’s gonna love hearing that.”

Meanwhile, Charles Hengst wasn’t done just yet. “Deblyn, your mother and I thought we taught you right from wrong, and not to hold anything against anyone unless they deserved it. Young Charles’ wife shouldn’t be held accountable for being Mexican any less than Daisy Jo here should be held accountable for being alien. They were both born that way. But it’s clear that you do.”

“But Dad, I—”

“Deblyn, shut up.” Mike’s grandmother spoke up, and as DJ looked at her, she could see a lot of parallels between Eleanor Hengst and her own grandmothers. “Your father is talking and it’s extremely rude of you to interrupt.”

He nodded at his wife. “Thank you, Ellie. Now then, daughter, I understand you instigated both young women over the past few days and how Hope is injured because of it and Daisy Jo here has been taking the brunt. But that stops, now. I will not allow members of the family to fight with one another, and she will be marrying Michael. You will respect that, or you can leave.” He looked out the window and the snow was falling heavily; there was no way anyone was going to make it anywhere out of the area. Like it or not, Debbie was stuck.

“Yes, Father,” she said, not liking it.

“Now then,” Chuck Hengst said, ushering his wife to the empty spot at the table set for her, “I understand you’re to thank for this blessed feast tonight, young lady. While I will admit it’s not the usual thing we do for Christmas, I recall being on the Shangri-La in ’74, having to sortie fighters between our war in Vietnam and peacekeeping diplomats for the Chinese and Russkies going at it up in Kamchatka. We didn’t have time to stop back in Yoko for our usual supplies, so we were running a little thin. Well, we had one helluva Filipino cook onboard, Master Chief Rosales, and while it was by far and away the least Christmassy dinner I’ve ever seen, I can honestly say it was one of the best, because the MSes turned to like it was no tomorrow. I see that here as well, kiddo. Bravo Zulu to you.”

“Thanks,” DJ replied, blushing. “So, care to say the Grace, sir?”

“Gladly.” The group gave the usual intonation to bless the meal, and then all gave way to a joyful celebration of the evening. Everyone complimented DJ on the food while making jokes to Mike that if she cooked like this on a regular basis, he was going to stop fitting into his uniforms in short order after they wed. And in the center of it all, eating foods she didn’t care for and couldn’t identify while her world broke around her, was Debbie, having somehow slipped from a triumphant return home to see her parents into the worst kind of hell she could imagine.

Into the midnight hours they went, laughing and dancing it up. Debbie, knowing when she wasn’t wanted, went up to her room. The rest scarcely noticed, having fun and talking along, Mike’s grandparents even dancing to some music from their day. Proving himself to be as impish as his descendants, Chuck asked DJ to dance, and she agreed, the two slow dancing for several minutes, the older man complimenting the younger woman on her dancing skills, something he’d thought wasn’t known by young women in this day and age.

“May I cut in?” Mike said, tapping his grandfather on the shoulder.

“She’s your gal, Michael. Treat her well,” Chuck said warmly, handing DJ off to his grandson.

The two danced silently to the music for a few minutes, soaking up each other’s company. After a few, he said, “Well, if it means anything to you, I was talking to Grandma, and she just adores you. She said you’ve got a ‘lot of fire’ in you – whatever that means – and she can’t wait for the grandkids. I had to remind her we’ll probably adopt since our genes are a little different.”

“You never know. With my family – my pony family, that is – anything’s possible. Maybe Twilight will be able to mad scientist something.”

Mike laughed. “Probably. Maybe I should have asked her about that when I had the chance.”

“When was that?”

Mike was about to tell DJ when Shelby called out, “Hey, it’s midnight! Christmas time and time to open the gifts!” With that, the pair stopped the dancing and went over to the tree, where everyone was gathering around the large, heavily decorated tree. But instead of sitting down next to Mike, DJ picked up a present and walked away. “I’ll be right back,” she said, and with no further fanfare, walked upstairs.

“She didn’t,” Shelby said, stunned. “After all Aunt Debbie’s done?”

“And that’s just one of the reasons I love her: because she’s that forgiving,” Mike said, adding, “and it’s one of the things she hates admitting about herself the most. I don’t doubt Matt and Anna taught her how to be that way, because they certainly are. But I think in her case, it’s more that of nature than nurture.”

“How so?” Lila asked.

“Long story, but it has to do with Equestria, Mom. It’s probably best if DJ explains it to you someday.”

In the darkness of her room, Debbie lay on her bed. She would leave tomorrow, by herself if necessary. This wasn’t her family any longer. It had been commandeered by those two degenerates and even her previously steadfast if dull son and his useless wife had now turned against her. Tomorrow she would leave without fanfare and leave them out of her life. After all, she had plenty of others in her life. She had…

Who do I have? she suddenly realized. And then it dawned on her. Her husband had left her a long time ago. Her daughter, Miriam, long since run away and no one had heard from her in ages. And even Joseph was more independent now that he was married, even if Mary was a wallflower. It suddenly dawned on Debbie that for the first time, she was truly alone. Not solitary, as she preferred, but alone, in the middle of the ocean on a lifeboat and with no hope of reaching land, as her father often said.

There was a knock at the door. “What do you want?” she shouted. The door opened, and framed by the light was a devil’s silhouette. Pointed ears, stubby body, missing hands and with a tail. Her devil, the one that had destroyed her ties to her family. “Go away, thing. Or are you here to vex me further? Driving my family away wasn’t enough?”

Instead, the thing set a package down on the bed and said, “Merry Christmas, Debbie.” The thing turned to leave, as Debbie stared at the package.

“Why?” Debbie asked.

“Because my Mom and Dad once told me something: as a minority – as the ultimate minority on the planet for the first fifteen years of my life – I didn’t have the luxury of hating or holding anything against anyone, nor would they let me. And as I grew older, I found out why: hating anyone for the color of their skin or where they came from or whatever – it’s not a luxury, it’s a trap. And Mom and Dad loved me too much to ever let me be ensnared by hate for those reasons.

“Instead, they gave me the best method of countering any bigotry my fellow people gave me: by being the best woman I can be. That’s best woman, not alien or pony. It makes me stand as being better than I have to be, maybe, but it also shows me that they love me enough to engender the best in me that I can be. And at least in that, I refuse to ever let them down.”

“But I….” Debbie was shocked. She never would have expected this from anyone, much less someone not human.

“I know. But I did it anyway, because we’re family. You might not accept that, and I can deal with that. But I love Mike and just a few short years we’ll be married. And in that step, we’ll be family. So I do what I must, because I’ll always do it for him.” And with that she left the room, closing the door and leaving a completely floored Debbie in uncomfortable silence.

DJ left Debbie’s room to find Mike standing by the staircase, leaning against a wall and clearly waiting for her. “Everyone’s waiting for you to come downstairs so we can open the presents, hon. And by the way, I heard everything you said to my aunt.”

“You did?” DJ felt a little self-conscious all of a sudden.

“DJ, you may have way better hearing than I do, but even I can hear a whole conversation in an adjacent room when the door is left open.”

She tapped her hands nervously. “Oh, I can explain, Mike, really,” she started before he laid a gentle finger on her muzzle to stop her from speaking further. Instead, he wordlessly pointed up to the ceiling, where someone had apparently placed a sprig of mistletoe.

“Tradition,” he said, smiling. She could say nothing else as the two lovers kissed, holding each other in a Yuletide love.

The remaining couple of days went by smoothly. Hope got out on the 25th, Christmas Day, and found that everyone had held her presents on standby just for her; DJ was more than happy – this time with help of the other women – to make another huge feast for Hope returning. To their surprise, Hope had been somehow mysteriously cured of her burns – well, at least it was mysterious until she explained.

“Apparently an Equestriani bigwig is touring the US as part of a holiday goodwill tour, and during Christmas she stopped at the hospital for a tour of human medical standards and instead she decided up upend the status quo by using magic to heal as many injuries as possible. It gave the staff fits, since they had to discharge dozens of patients and that’s gotta hurt their bottom line. So I owe…um…let’s see if I got this name right…Princess Mi Amore Cadenza…I think that’s it. Anyway, I owe her for that.”

Mike and DJ looked at each other with knowing glances. “Cadance. Should’ve known.”

“Oh, so you know her, then, DJ? Didn’t know you knew the leaders of your kind.”

“Only by reputation,” the humanized pony said diplomatically, not really wanting to explain the relation between herself and her royal aunt.

Without warning, there was a puff of green magic, which soon materialized into a scroll, landing right on DJ’s lap. Everyone stared at the sudden magical appearance of the scroll, save Mike who said, “Looks like Twilight’s in town, DJ.”

“Well, that would explain all the presents to us from Equestria,” DJ said, then looked at Mike and asked, “And when exactly were you planning to tell me about any of this?” The look in her eyes said he was in the doghouse for that and he looked at everyone else in his family, the features of helplessness creeping up on his face.

“Ah, true love,” Chuck Hengst said to everyone, as they laughed.

At last, Saturday came, and DJ was loading her bags into her rental. Her flight was at five in the afternoon, headed back to Los Angeles and her normal life. As the last bag was done, she went up to everyone. “Well, I’ve gotta go, and I’m going to miss you all,” she said, wondering where Mike went; if there was going to be anyone to see her off, it should be him.

Lila was first to hug her. “Take care, DJ, and we’ll see you back in Winchester soon enough, okay?”

“Always,” DJ said, returning the hug. “Keep an eye on my parents for me, okay?”

Carl was next. “Don’t worry, I’ll set your old man straight on the Brewers vs. Angels.”

“Next time you’re in town we’ll make a trip to Chavez Ravine and make fun of the Dodgers together,” she promised.

Up next was both Chaz and Hope. “DJ, if you’re ever in Seattle, just give us a call,” Hope insisted. The two had clearly bonded in the past few days and were tight now.

“I have a book tour there in April. I’ll take you up on that.”

Shelby merely glomped the younger girl. “Gonna miss ya, Dee.”

“Next time I’m in Manhattan, we’ll paint the town, Shelby, just you and me – ladies night out and everything.”

Joe and Mary weren’t as forward, but were still warm enough. “Thank you, DJ. For everything.”

She smiled. “Well, don’t thank me just yet – let’s see what Dad says, first. But if you get a letter in a couple of weeks from a Donny Bass, then you’ll know you’re good to go – that’s Dad’s editor, which means he’ll have the manuscript.”

Ernie was up next. “Remind me to send you a gift certificate for any of our stores in LA. It should make up for all the money you spent there.”

DJ chuckled. “Do that and I’ll empty the Costa Mesa store, just watch.”

Last came Chuck and Ellie. “Daisy Jo, it’s not easy facing one’s own mortality. What my sons say are true, though I hope to God that we’ll be able to see you and Michael take that trip up the aisle. But I can say this much: Michael’s in good hands. Hooves?”

“I call them hands, even if I’m driving biologists up the wall,” DJ said with a smile.

“That’s good enough for me, dearie,” Ellie said, hugging DJ as well.

She looked at them all, the newest additions to her family even if not formally for another couple of years. “My family just keeps growing larger and larger,” she murmured to herself, “and it’s just God showing me how much of a lucky woman I am.” She looked at everyone standing there and sighed. “Now if my fiancé can just make an appearance….”

Mike was rushing to pack the rest of his seabag. He didn’t want to miss this chance to surprise DJ, with the second gift, which he told her he would only reveal on the day she departed: due to circumstances, one of his fellow officers at Fifth Fleet had to cancel her leave, and in doing so, offered to cover Mike’s week, allowing him the chance to take two weeks instead of one – and a week where he and DJ could just spend together. Shelby had very carefully made sure he was on the same flight back to LA as she was and would later catch a flight back from LAX to Norfolk, where he could catch a Space-A back to Doha. But he had to get down there before she left.

“Michael.” Mike looked up and there was his aunt, standing in the doorway. Strangely enough, she was wearing a scarf indoors. Was that the thing that DJ had given to her?

“I’m leaving. I have a flight to catch.”

“I understand that. Well, I won’t hold you up, dear nephew. I just wanted to see you a Happy New Year since I won’t be seeing you again for a while. Do give your…significant other…my regards as well.”

Mike smiled softly, trying to hide his surprise at the sudden statement. On the surface, truthfully, it wasn’t much. But from his aunt, it was a lot. Moreso…it was a hopeful sign of things to come. He walked past her out the door, saying, “We’ll be getting married back in Winchester in a couple of years. I hope to see you there.”

Debbie looked down at the scarf, saying, “Perhaps.”

“Where is he?” DJ fumed. “I’ve gotta get this car in before I get charged another day.”

Hands suddenly covered her eyes as a voice behind her said, “Well, let’s get going then. We’ve got a flight to catch.” He moved to embrace her as she squirmed around suddenly, looking at him with a gaze of wonder, love and surprise. “Merry Christmas: how does a week of just you and me at your place sound?”

“It sounds like I won’t be getting any writing done this coming week, will I?”

“Well, if you’d rathe—” He was silenced as she pulled him down, kissing him. “I guess not,” he said. He then went off and said his goodbyes to his family, promising he’d see them all again. It was bittersweet, saying goodbye to his grandparents, not knowing if it would be the last time he would see them, but they promised him they’d try to hold on for the wedding. Shelby gave him a small laundry list of things to pick up from several small LA stores, and Chaz and Hope invited them up to his place as well. Lastly, Joe and Mary thanked him for everything, though he wasn’t sure what he’d done for them.

At last, he climbed into the passenger’s seat of the car, settling in alongside his someday-soon-to-be wife. “Ready to go to your place?” he asked.

She looked at him with all the love in her heart. “I only hope that someday you can ask me if we’re ready to go home together,” she said, her voice having a slight catch of sorrow in it.

“Someday soon, DJ. And that day’s coming soon. I promise.”

“Yeah, now if we can just make the next two years go by quicker. I wonder if I can ask Twilight to convince Celestia to make time go faster here on this Earth?”

“I don’t think even she can do that, hon.” A pause, followed by: “But you’re not the only one who wishes that, believe me.”

With that, she gave him a smile and cued the ignition and soon the champagne-colored SUV was leaving the Hengst manor as the snow fell, a cascading winter wonderland for a pair of souls intertwined for life. Though within weeks they would be separated bodily by thousands of miles, they would never be far away from each other in their hearts.